Chapter 8: The Town of Ardent Vale

The morning sun had fully risen by the time Sylvie and her family reached the outskirts of town. The road leading into Ardent Vale was well-trodden, lined with carts and travelers heading toward the market square. It was busier than Sylvie had expected, with farmers, merchants, and craftsmen filling the streets.

Her mother adjusted the woven basket in her arms and turned to them. "I need to handle some things at the general store. Sylas, take Sylvie and look around, but don't wander too far. Meet me back here by noon."

Sylas perked up at the rare bit of freedom, while Sylvie tried not to show her excitement.

"We'll be fine," Sylas assured their mother. "Right, Sylvie?"

Sylvie nodded.

Their mother sighed but smiled. "Just don't cause trouble."

And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.

Sylas stretched his arms. "Alright. I know exactly where I'm going."

"Where?" Sylvie asked.

"The bakery. Where else?"

Of course.

She didn't argue, though. That worked perfectly—if he was distracted by food, she'd have more time to explore.

The town was more than Sylvie had imagined. Buildings of timber and stone lined the streets, with colorful banners fluttering between them. Stalls overflowed with fresh produce, baked goods, and fabrics, their owners calling out to passersby. The air was filled with a mix of scents—warm bread, roasting meat, and something floral she couldn't place.

The market square was the busiest part, but Sylvie's attention was drawn to a particular section tucked toward the edge—the Crafter's Market.

Unlike the general marketplace, this area was dedicated to artisans and tradesmen. Blacksmiths displayed freshly forged tools, potters arranged delicate clay vessels, and woodworkers carved intricate designs into furniture. It was a place where things were made, not just sold.

Sylas was already heading toward the bakery when Sylvie tugged his sleeve.

"I want to look around here," she said.

Sylas gave her a long look. "You're not going to run off, are you?"

"No."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll be at the bakery. If you get lost, that's your fault."

She barely heard him as she drifted toward the rows of craftsmen.

It didn't take long before something truly caught her eye—a cart filled with broken tools, rusted gears, and discarded scraps of metal.

She stopped in her tracks.

It was salvage.

A bearded man sat behind the cart, his expression bored as he watched people pass by. Sylvie stepped closer, her fingers itching to sort through the pile.

"You actually interested in this junk?" the man asked.

Sylvie hesitated before answering. "It's not junk if it can be fixed."

That got his attention. He leaned forward slightly. "Not many think that way."

She picked up a rusted gear, turning it over in her hands. It was solid, just corroded—fixable.

"How much for this?" she asked.

The man waved a hand. "Take it. If you can make something of it, come back and show me."

Sylvie blinked. "Really?"

"Really. But if you do fix it up, I want to see it."

She nodded, tucking the gear into her pocket. She would.

As she turned away, she accidentally bumped into someone—hard.

She stumbled back, barely managing to stay on her feet. "Ah—sorry—"

A boy around twelve or thirteen steadied himself, eyeing her with sharp green eyes. His clothes were worn but sturdy, and a short dagger hung at his belt.

"You're new," he said, tilting his head.

"I don't come to town often," Sylvie admitted.

He studied her for a moment before grinning. "You look like someone who'd want to see something interesting."

Sylvie narrowed her eyes. "What kind of interesting?"

He leaned in slightly. "Ever heard of the Mystiron alley?"

Her heart skipped at the name. "No…?"

"It's where the real craftsmen work. Not the ones selling pots and pans—the ones making things nobody else can."

Sylvie's grip tightened around the rusted gear in her pocket. "Where is it?"

The boy smirked. "I'll show you. For a price."

She crossed her arms. "What price?"

He shrugged. "Just a favor. Someday."

That sounded very suspicious.

But the opportunity was too good to ignore.

"…Fine."

His smirk widened. "Then follow me."

And just like that, Sylvie was stepping into a part of Ardent Vale she hadn't even known existed.