Chapter 5: The Miracle Flame and the Return of the Merchant
The sun had barely risen over Ylmare when whispers began to ripple through the market streets again.
"He's back…"
"The foreign merchant — the one with the strange goods!"
"But didn't he vanish?"
No one saw him arrive. No one heard his footsteps. But when the temple bell chimed eight times, the stall beneath the great oak was no longer empty.
The table had returned — polished, neat, arranged with purpose.
A sleek tarp covered the goods. And behind it stood Farhan Rahman, a calm smile on his face, his coat fluttering in the cool breeze.
Beside him stood something new.
A banner — deep crimson with golden embroidery. On it read, in Old Arcanian:
> "By House Velmont's decree, this merchant is under noble protection. All commerce is to proceed unimpeded."
That banner alone was a shield greater than any sword. And yet, it wasn't the nobility that made the townsfolk gather in droves.
It was the display he unveiled.
With a flick of his wrist, Farhan pulled back the tarp, revealing five polished boxes — each containing a small silver cylinder with a bright red button.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice carrying over the crowd. "I give you… the Ever-Flame Wand."
Gasps rose instantly.
The demonstration began.
Farhan picked up one of the wands, raised it toward a bundle of dry sticks on a fire-safe plate, and pressed the red button.
A jet of blue flame burst forth.
The fire caught instantly — steady, controlled, hot.
Children clapped. Adults leaned forward, wide-eyed.
"No flint. No friction. No oil," he said. "No need for firestones or wizard spark. Just press the rune."
"Rune?" someone whispered.
"Yes," Farhan lied smoothly. "A rune of eternal flame, sealed within. Only I know the inscription."
He held up the wand again. "Light your hearth in a second. Ignite torches in the wind. Prepare food, defend yourself — even in rain or snow."
He handed it to the burly blacksmith watching nearby. "Try it."
The smith examined it skeptically, then clicked the button.
Fwoosh!
Blue flame.
The smith nearly dropped it. "By the Forge-God's beard…"
The crowd erupted.
Soon the coins poured in — silver, gold, even a few enchanted tokens.
But Farhan wasn't done.
"Next," he said, pulling out another item — sleek, metallic, palm-sized. "Behold… the Lantern of Stars."
He clicked the switch on the LED camping light.
A soft, steady glow filled the air.
Then he twisted the dial. The light changed — now a flickering warm tone, like candlelight. Another twist — it became daylight-white, perfect for reading scrolls or maps.
"No flame. No oil. Just everlasting glow," he said. "Safe. Bright. Portable. A mage's dream and a child's guardian."
The lantern sold out within an hour.
But the true star of the day?
The Thermal Cloak.
"Try this," Farhan offered to a lean hunter in leather armor. "Weighs less than a chicken's feather. But it traps heat like a dragon's breath."
Skeptical, the man tried it on — and within seconds, his eyes widened.
"It's… it's warm already. But how?"
"Woven from the threads of Northern Sky-Spiders," Farhan deadpanned, though it was just a mylar space blanket sewn into a tunic.
Within hours, nobles' servants arrived.
They bought entire bundles — especially the cloaks.
By evening, his stall was empty.
But Farhan wasn't just selling product.
He was making a statement.
He was back.
And he was stronger.
---
That night, in a candle-lit chamber of House Velmont's estate, Seraphina leaned against her balcony, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Have you ever seen a merchant cause such chaos, Mira?" she asked her lady-in-waiting.
The younger girl shook her head, wide-eyed. "He's like a wizard who sells miracles."
"Exactly," Seraphina whispered. "And that's what makes him dangerous — and valuable."
She turned her gaze toward the city lights.
"There's more to him than commerce. No artisan or smuggler could create those things. That wand… it burns without any mana. That's impossible."
She sipped from her goblet, wine untouched by warmth.
"We need to know who he really is."
---
Meanwhile, far away in a stone tower veiled by enchantment, two robed figures observed a crystal orb.
The image displayed the marketplace — and Farhan's demonstration.
"This is the fourth anomaly reported in Ylmare," one said. "And the third to resist Arcane tracing."
"His goods emit no ley energy," the other replied. "Yet they function beyond Tier 2 spellcraft. That wand? It has more controlled flame than a trained Fire Adept."
"Is he a mage from another continent?"
"Perhaps. Or something else entirely."
They stared into the orb.
"We'll send someone," the second said. "Quietly. Not to arrest. But to study."
---
Back in his room at the inn, Farhan lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
The day had been a win — no doubt about that. But every victory made his presence louder in this world.
And he could feel the walls slowly closing in.
He picked up his phone. Battery: 41%.
"I need solar panels and better charging cables soon…" he muttered.
He opened his Online Shopping app.
> Wish List:
> Portable solar kit
> High-lumen projectors
> Motion-sensor alarms
> Waterproof tents
> First aid kits (multi-pack)
He paused before tapping "Order."
This wasn't just about profit anymore.
It was preparation.
War was coming — maybe not with swords, but with secrets, questions, and power.
He was no longer just a merchant.
He was a disruption.
And people don't tolerate disruptions for long.