Page 8 of Sanctuary and Spices (Tales of the Ardent Veil #1)

RONHAR

T he early cycle lit the café’s garden in waves of artificial light, each beam catching the delicate shimmer of the Jhyra as they stirred—out of sync with their natural cycle. I moved among the plants, my hands brushing over their leaves to ground myself in their steady energy. But my focus slipped, my thoughts lingering elsewhere. On her.

I felt her presence before I saw her. The plants shifted subtly, their stems bending toward the doorway in a way that I’d never seen before she arrived. It wasn’t just the plants, though. There was something about her—an energy, perhaps, or a quiet pull—that I couldn’t quite name.

The door slid open, and Jani stepped into view. She was wearing civilian clothes today, the casual outfit softer than the chef whites she’d worn before. It suited her—relaxed, approachable. The fabric moved with her in a way that caught my attention before I forced myself to look away.

“Morning,” she said, her tone light but curious. “Everything okay?”

I turned to face her, keeping a deliberate distance. “We need to talk.”

Her posture shifted slightly, her shoulders straightening. There was always strength in her stance, even when she didn’t realize it. “About?”

“Supply run.” I moved between the workstations, pretending to focus on logistics. “We’re low on key ingredients. There’s an important event coming up.”

“And this requires a dramatic pre-dawn conversation because...?” Her dry tone brought a flicker of a smile to my face, though I hid it quickly.

“Because—” I started, but Soryn’s heavy tread cut me off. His scales shimmered with amused bronze as he sized up the situation.

“.” Soryn claimed a prep station, his prosthetic arm whirring faintly as he arranged ingredients. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Making everything sound like a tactical briefing.” He gestured at Jani with his good arm, the motion casual but deliberate. “What he’s trying to say is we need to make a supply run. Usually his job, but given the circumstances...”

My jaw tightened. I met his knowing look without comment. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Perfect training opportunity,” Soryn continued. “Show her the ropes. Introduce her to our regular vendors.”

“I can handle it alone.” The words came out more clipped than I intended. Even as I said them, I knew they weren’t entirely true. And, more annoyingly, I didn’t want them to be.

“Obviously.” Soryn’s scales rippled with amusement, his gaze flicking between us. “But she needs to learn the market eventually. Might as well be now.”

“I don’t mind helping,” Jani offered, her voice even but steady. Her dark eyes held a quiet determination that tugged at something I couldn’t quite name. “If I’m going to work here, I need to learn the market anyway.”

I nodded reluctantly, though the tension in my chest didn’t ease. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Settled then.” Soryn tapped his tablet. “Flo-Lift leaves in twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”

He turned back to his work, leaving me alone with Jani and the faint hum of the garden’s energy.

“So...” She tilted her head, her expression softening in the morning light. “The Bazaar?”

“This way.” I led her toward the station’s transit hub, hyper-aware of her footsteps matching mine.

The early crowd moved with purpose: dock workers changing shifts, merchants unpacking wares, maintenance bots humming past. Snippets of conversation drifted by:

“...heard the trade routes are getting worse...” “...artifacts showing up...”

The Flo-Lift platform was its usual controlled chaos. Maintenance workers chatted in groups, merchants discussed their plans, and Krythari artisans spoke in their melodic language about crystal structures. The transport’s shimmering field glowed faintly as we stepped aboard, lifting us smoothly toward the upper rings.

Jani moved to the edge, her gaze fixed on the layers of the station sliding past. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Her wonder caught me off guard. I found myself watching her instead of the view. “The Veil’s unique. Built into an ancient structure. The founders worked with what they found instead of fighting it.”

“Is that why everything feels so...” She gestured vaguely, her fingers brushing the Flo-Lift’s railing. “Alive?”

“The station runs on Leyline energy. Everything’s connected.” I wasn’t looking at her. Definitely not noticing how the soft glow of the lift highlighted her features.

The Bazaar hummed with activity even at this early hour. Merchants called out in a mix of languages, arranging wares beneath the soft rainbow light cast by crystalline arches. A Pel’ax vendor carefully placed living goods on display, while a Krythari juggled glowing fruit for a growing crowd.

“Stay close,” I said, more aware of her proximity than I wanted to admit. “The market can be... overwhelming.”

She fell into step beside me, her attention shifting between stalls and people. At Mai’s spice stand, the Krythari merchant greeted us with all four arms in motion, sorting jars and preparing bags.

“!” Mai’s faceted eyes glimmered. “And the café’s new chef?”

“Word travels fast,” Jani replied, her confidence growing with each interaction. She studied the display of spices with interest. “This is incredible.”

“How are you finding the Veil?” Mai asked, handing over our usual order.

“Different. But good different.” Jani’s hands moved as she spoke, describing flavor combinations with an animation that drew Mai’s full attention.

I should’ve been checking the rest of our suppliers, but I found myself lingering. The way she engaged with Mai—her curiosity, her ease—was... distracting.

Mai laughed, her mandibles clicking. “Come back anytime. Always good to talk spices with someone who knows their craft.”

As we moved on, Jani’s presence shifted the energy of every stop. Vendors lit up at her questions, their enthusiasm matching hers. Even the living goods at the herb stalls seemed to turn toward her, their stems bending slightly as if in greeting.

“Interesting,” our Pel’ax herb supplier murmured as his plants reacted. “Very interesting.”

“Just the usual order,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Plus extra nutrients for the Jhyra,” Jani added. “They’ve been growing faster than expected.”

The Pel’ax’s antlers quivered. “Are they now? Fascinating.”

Before he could elaborate, a glint of metallic skin caught my eye. I turned sharply, instincts flaring.

Lyrian.

The Aurenai mercenary moved through the crowd with the liquid grace of his kind. His golden-bronze skin reflected the Bazaar’s light as our eyes met across the distance. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

I shifted closer to Jani, my hand brushing her arm as if by accident. “Stay close.”

She didn’t pull away, her gaze following mine to Lyrian. “Who is that?”

“An old acquaintance.” My tone was flat, but my tension must have been obvious.

Lyrian’s voice carried above the noise, smooth and edged with amusement. “What an interesting morning this has become.”