Thirstfall - Memory of a Returnee

Night has already taken the southwest plaza, but nobody looks ready to stop.

The attempts have improved over the last few hours. There are still delays, repeated angles, and moments when two of them see the same opening, but the idea is starting to settle into the body. They no longer wait for my voice to know who should take the next answer.

I put Eventide away.

"Keep going if you want. I need to handle something else."

Veric looks at me before I can point at him. "I’ll be back soon."

He gets the message. When I return, I want to see the sword he promised.

His nod is short.

I turn to Zhang Xi. "Come with me."

The monk blinks once. "Me?"

"You."

She looks at the plaza, then at me. She doesn’t ask here. She only settles the gray hood over her head and follows.

The matter is too sensitive for an open part of the Academy. Even away from the main routes, the plaza is still ringed by corridors, windows, and people trained to pay attention to what isn’t their business. The factory offers privacy, and I still need to check what Richard managed to put together.

We take the streets of Azure Prime without hurrying. I walk with my hands in my pockets, quiet beside Zhang Xi for most of the way. She already understands the explanation comes when there are no other ears nearby.

The factory lights are still on when we arrive.

Richard meets us in the central yard, near the loading gate. He looks tired, but pleased. Behind him is the wagon.

From the outside, it does exactly what I asked for.

It’s fully enclosed, a tall body of dark wood mounted on four wide wheels. The curved roof gives it the look of a small traveling coach, long enough to carry crates without drawing attention through sheer proportion. No crest. The paint is new and carries no mark tied to the factory. The wood shows light signs of use, and the ironwork has been cleaned without losing its ordinary appearance.

The sides hold large panels fitted into the structure. Closed, they look like nothing more than part of the body.

"Reinforced suspension," Richard says. "The axle’s been checked too. The driver tested it on the industrial district streets before he took the job."

I walk around it. "And inside?"

Richard smiles. "Open it."

I release the catch on the two side doors and pull.

The difference is almost offensive.

The interior looks like a small luxury shop hidden inside a transport wagon. The wood has been polished to a deep tone, and narrow shelves cover the walls on three levels. Every slot has padded fittings to keep the vials from shifting on the road.

Clean labels mark batch, quantity, and price. Smaller drawers are separated by function: samples, payments, receipts, replacement stock. A folding counter stays fixed to the wall, ready to open when the wagon parks.

The large outer panels on the doors are part of the shop too. On the inside they carry brackets, runic lighting, and small shelves. Raised, they’d turn the coach’s flanks into open display windows, cover above and counters below. At the end of the day, everything folds back, the panels close, and the shop disappears.

At the back, behind a labeled partition, there’s room for the main stock.

I look at Richard. "Holy shit."

He gives me a satisfied smile.

"You did this in one day?"

"I found the wagon in a few hours. The rest was Zoe, Maela, and a few workers who had time free."

I don’t need to ask who made the labels. Zoe’s hand is in every straight line of it.

Zhang Xi steps into the wagon and studies one of the shelves. She runs her fingers near the fittings without touching the vials.

"It looks like a small, very expensive apothecary."

"That was the idea," Richard says. "People trust a product more when it doesn’t look like it came out of a crate on the floor."

He’s right.

The presentation doesn’t change what’s in the LDP, but it changes the price a buyer accepts and the confidence he feels while drinking it. As a former barkeep, Richard understands that better than I do.

Zhang Xi turns to me. "Why did you want me here?"

"I want you running the sales tomorrow."

She looks back at the shelves. "During the battle?"

"Especially during the battle."

I step away from the wagon and wait for her to follow. Richard closes one of the side doors to cut the view from the street.

"If I sell to the public myself, they’ll tie the LDP to whatever happens in the Oathring, and tie it straight to me," I explain. "They’ll watch when I use it, how much I use, and who brought the stock. Then they start following the wagon, the driver, and any worker who goes near the next shipments."

Zhang Xi nods slowly. "The attention will be concentrated on you."

"That’s part of the problem. It’s also part of the plan."

She doesn’t push for details ahead of time.

"You belong to a known guild," I go on. "Your origin is already public. If you’re running the sale, the first read is simple: the Silver Fang is presenting a medical product. That pulls some of the attention off me and off the factory."

"Not all of it."

"I don’t need all of it."

The monk grasps the rest without my having to spell it out.

She has the standing to answer questions about OXI recovery, to recognize adverse effects, and to stop anyone trying to use the product irresponsibly. She’d also know how to tell an interested buyer from someone digging for the source of production.

"I can bring someone from the Silver Fang to help me," she says.

"Someone discreet."

A small smile appears on her face. "I have the right person."

The certainty in that answer makes me curious, but I hold the question. If Zhang Xi trusts that person with something delicate, I can weigh it later.

I climb fully into the wagon and open the other door again.

It takes me a few minutes to explain where she’ll stand, when the panels open, and what should happen during the battle. I show her the part involving the first vials, the moment of the sale, and the reason Richard built more than a simple mobile stall.

I leave nothing on the guild forum.

When I finish, Zhang Xi stays quiet, rearranging the steps in her head. Richard looks at the interior of the coach, then at me.

The laugh comes out whole.

He braces a hand on the folding counter and shakes his head. "Dryden, you’re one of the most over-the-top people I’ve ever met."

"Is that a complaint?"

"It’s an observation. Even to sell potions, you have to turn the whole place into a show."

"Selling quietly would be a waste."

Richard laughs again, lower this time. "Everything will be ready."

Zhang Xi confirms with a nod.

We head back to the Academy soon after.

On the way, she doesn’t ask anything more about the plan. She only mentions that she understands why I didn’t speak in the plaza. By the time we reach the southwest entrance, the sound of training has already stopped.

The plaza lights are still on.

Veric is waiting.

At the center of the markers I set on the ground sits a low transport platform, reinforced with metal plates. On it rests a long, dark case, wide enough to hold something larger than an ordinary sword.

Three runic locks hold the lid.

A thick chain wraps the whole structure.

Veric doesn’t look excited. That catches my attention more than the case does.

"The vault men brought it a few minutes ago," he says. "None of them wanted to stay for the test."

I move closer.

The system reacts before I touch it.

[ANOMALY DETECTED]

[RANK: B]

[OWNERSHIP STATUS: UNCLAIMED]

A second message appears right below it.

[COMPATIBILITY PROCEDURE REQUIRED]

Veric sets his hand on the first lock but doesn’t open it. "I need to tell you something first."

"Another drawback?"

"No." He looks at the case. "The reason it’s still in the vault."

The chain around the structure shifts a few inches.

And what turns my blood cold for an instant is that nobody had touched it.

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