The city had a different face at night.
Shadows lengthened, twisting into unfamiliar shapes. Market stalls shuttered, alleys whispered, and the great spires of Veylin rose like jagged teeth against the moonlit sky. Jalen walked among them with his hood drawn low, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and grim determination.
Mira's silence was killing him. He couldn't pretend anymore, couldn't swallow the sweetness of his own joy knowing it tasted of someone else's suffering. If the Exchange was real, if Mira had bartered herself for him, then he had to see it with his own eyes.
Even if it meant walking straight into the maw.
He followed the directions whispered in taverns, passed through alleys that reeked of rot and rain, until he found the building.
It was unmarked—plain stone, a single iron door. But as he drew near, he felt something stir inside him, as though the air itself thickened. His skin prickled, and his chest grew heavy.
This was it.
Jalen pressed his hand to the door. It opened without a sound.
Inside, the air was sharp and cold. The hall stretched long and narrow, lined with alcoves filled with shelves. Glass vials shimmered faintly, each holding liquid that pulsed with unnatural light. Gold for happiness. Crimson for anger. Indigo for sorrow.
Jalen's breath caught. This was no myth. The Exchange was real.
And then he saw her.
A woman with eyes like pale glass stepped from the shadows. She was tall, her features delicate, her smile unsettling.
"Ah," she said softly. "A new customer."
Jalen's throat tightened. He shook his head. "I'm not here to buy."
Her smile widened. "Then you're here to sell. Tell me—what will you offer?"
Panic jolted through him. He took a step back, but her presence pressed against him like a tide.
"I—I'm just looking," he stammered.
She tilted her head, studying him with unnerving patience. "You reek of borrowed joy," she murmured. "Someone has fed you what is not yours. And I can smell her on you—the sister who comes here, again and again, carving herself hollow for your sake."
Jalen froze. His chest constricted as though her words had taken hold and refused to let go.
Mira.
It was true.
The pale-eyed woman stepped closer, her voice curling around him like smoke. "She gives and gives, but she cannot save you. Not forever. The Exchange always demands balance. And when her well runs dry, you will drown again."
Jalen's pulse roared in his ears. He wanted to shout at her, to deny it, but the truth rang too loudly.
"What do you want from me?" he whispered.
Her lips curved. "I want nothing. The Exchange wants everything. But you… you could choose to pay, just once. Spare her another hollowing. Give me a memory, a dream, a taste of yourself. Then she need not suffer so much."
Her pale eyes gleamed. "Wouldn't that be noble?"
Jalen staggered back. His thoughts spun, tangled in fear and guilt. Could he? Should he?
A memory flashed—the sound of Mira's laugh when they were children, warm and full. A laugh she no longer carried.
She had given that away for him.
His stomach churned. The temptation burned.
But he shook his head violently. "No. I won't give you anything."
The woman's expression darkened, her smile fading into something colder. "Then go. But remember: every smile you wear was carved from her flesh. Every breath of joy you take is one she has lost."
Jalen stumbled into the night air, gasping as though he had been underwater.
The city stretched before him, but it no longer looked the same. The lights seemed harsher, the laughter in the streets brittle and false. Everywhere, he saw traces of his sister's suffering, etched into the glow of his own happiness.
For the first time since his darkness had lifted, Jalen wished he could give it all back.
Meanwhile, Mira sat at home, shivering though the night was mild. The memory of fire was gone, stolen from her veins. Candles burned on the table, but their light was cold and lifeless, their warmth an illusion she could no longer feel.
She rubbed her hands together, desperate for heat that never came.
And as she sat in the dark, she whispered to herself, "At least he's safe. At least he's safe."
But somewhere in the city, Jalen whispered a different vow:
"I'll save her, even if it means taking back every drop of happiness she gave me."