The next few days passed slowly, measured not by hours but by watching.
Lira and Renkai returned to the town each morning, careful to remain at the edges—close enough to see, far enough not to disturb. They sat on low stone ledges, leaned against tree-walls, and pretended to rest while their eyes stayed sharp.
Patterns began to emerge.
The first thing Lira noticed was exchange.
Creatures approached stalls not with metal or gems, but with pressed green leaves—some fresh, some dried, others etched with faint glowing veins. The leaves were bundled, counted, and handled with care. Larger, darker leaves seemed more valuable; small pale ones were used for simple food or trinkets.
"Leaf money," Renkai murmured one morning.
"Yes," Lira whispered back. "But not just any leaves. Look—those are shaped intentionally. Cultivated."
They observed further.
Some beings earned leaves by:
Carrying baskets of produce
Polishing seed-crystals
Guiding travelers through forest paths
