Chapter 62: Which is better, cherry or gold?

The trinket district was a dazzling labyrinth, its massive crystal chandeliers refracting prismatic light, dancing across countless faceted surfaces, forming a mesmerizing galaxy of sparkles.

Aphrosia, dragging Mistfeather and clutching a squirming, indignant Blazewing—who was itching to “reason” with someone—plunged into this glittering “sanctuary.”

“Hey, Aphrosia, why’re you scared of her? Let me go! I’ll talk some sense into her!” Blazewing flailed in Aphrosia’s arms, tiny fists swinging at the air, ruby eyes glaring toward the second floor. Her “talk” likely involved punches.

“Talk sense? With her?! And how do I explain the cartoon heads of me on those coins after ‘Flo’s’ house exploded? Or why you two are with me, a suspicious nobody, instead of Flo?”

Aphrosia muttered, weaving through towering display cases and bustling crowds. Her new daggers’ sheaths tapped her thighs rhythmically, their blue glow subtle in the radiant surroundings.

“But we’re human now—she won’t recognize us, right?” Blazewing asked, confused.

“You think you can fool a genius from a major family? Trust me, I know Ifrora—one glance, and she’ll know you’re my birds…” Aphrosia sighed, dejected.

Ifrora was way too interested in everything around her…

“Ugh… that scent… so close…” Mistfeather, being dragged, paled, her ice-blue eyes troubled. She felt it clearly—that cloying floral magic, sticky as gum, leisurely trailing them through the crowd’s din and dazzling lights!

“Tch! Is that pink chicken a tracking dog?!” Aphrosia wanted to roll her eyes, but Astraea’s etiquette training stopped her.

She tried channeling her “time and miracle” powers to disrupt it, but their faintness made it pointless. She could practically see Ifrora in some corner, smirking, watching their “performance.”

“This way!” Aphrosia darted into a narrow aisle lined with ornate feather masks, leading to a quieter area—maybe a bespoke section? Whatever, just dodge that pink gaze!

Then—

Whoosh!

A soft pink beam, like a child’s soap bubble, floated down from above, aiming for Aphrosia’s neatly braided ponytail with relentless stickiness, harmless but persistent.

“Eek!” Mistfeather yelped, instinctively waving her hand.

Pfft!

A display of fluffy magic feather dusters at the aisle’s entrance frosted over with delicate ice crystals!

The pink beam popped against the frost, bursting into lively, elf-like sparks that dispersed in cherry-colored smoke.

“Ugh! Too sweet! Gross!” Blazewing wrinkled her nose, covering her face.

Aphrosia’s lips twitched at the pink mist. Classic Ifrora nonsense! Who knew what it’d do—dye her hair pink for three days? Add a tacky BGM to her steps?

“Move!” Her scalp prickled (mostly from hating that cherry hue). She shoved Blazewing into Mistfeather’s arms, eyes saying, Hold this firecracker! Then, grabbing both, she bolted for the aisle’s end like her life depended on it. Ifrora meant no harm, but getting caught… what a hassle!

“Oh~? Nice moves, little canary! And that icy cutie~?” As for the fiery one? Seems weak…

Blazewing: So offensive! Time to teach her a lesson! (Waving tiny fists)

Ifrora’s honeyed voice, laced with mock petulance, cut through the crowd’s noise, ringing in Aphrosia’s ears.

“Why run so fast? I just want a proper ‘hello’~ Hide-and-seek’s fun, but too long, and I’ll get sad~”

That voice! Aphrosia stumbled, nearly face-planting. That damn pink chicken—still lethal!

At the aisle’s end was a wooden door adorned with elegant vine patterns, likely a staff lounge or VIP room. Aphrosia didn’t care—she grabbed the handle. Thank the gods, unlocked!

The door swung open, revealing a clean, cozy room with a faint tea scent, empty.

Aphrosia knew barging in wasn’t ideal, but she had no choice.

“Inside!” She tossed the lolis in like hot potatoes, slipped inside, and slammed the door, leaning against it with a long exhale.

The room’s soft light and comfort blocked out that maddening pink aura.

“Phew…” Aphrosia steadied her racing heart, wiping imaginary sweat. Safe… for now? She knew if Ifrora wanted in, this door was decorative at best.

“Aphrosia…” Mistfeather, holding a now-quiet but alert Blazewing, whispered, “She… doesn’t seem malicious? But… so clingy…” That superglue feeling lingered.

“I know—she’s trouble incarnate!” Aphrosia grumbled. She loosened her grip on the dagger hilt (too tense earlier) and scanned the room, plotting how to ditch this pink plague.

Fight? Can’t win (and reluctant to try? Pfft, no way, they’re archenemies!). Reason? Ifrora’s logic was its own beast. Her only hope… the Silver Moon Guild’s rules? Or beg staff for help? Useless—Ifrora was practically a tyrant in Phoenix territory…

Then, her daggers hummed softly, like a feather tickling her heart!

The hum infused their blue glow with life, pulsing gently. A cool, pure, rhythmic energy rippled out, like a pebble in a calm lake, soothing her frazzled nerves.

“Hm?” Aphrosia glanced at her weapons, surprised. This felt like Mistfeather’s “light” but warmer, friendlier… comforting?

She touched the blade again.

This time, a strange “resonance” flowed—not cold steel, but warm jade, soothing. A faint, friendly intent guided her… toward a corner fireplace, carved with a Silver Moon emblem?

Her heart skipped. Could it be…

“Mistfeather, Blazewing, check this out!” Curious and hopeful, she approached the fireplace. It was unlit, pristine. She pressed the emblem.

The moment her fingers touched it, the emblem rippled with soft silver-blue light! A faint click sounded, and the fireplace’s inner bricks slid aside, revealing a narrow, descending tunnel emitting the same cool aura as her daggers.

“Wow! Secret passage!” Blazewing’s eyes lit up, vigilance replaced by adventure lust.

“This…” Mistfeather’s eyes widened.

Then—

Knock, knock, knock.

A rhythmic tap came, paired with Ifrora’s saccharine voice:

“Dear little canary~ and cute snowflake and spark? Inside? Open the door~ I know you’re there. I just want a friendly chat, maybe… confirm a certain ‘secret’ I’m dying to know~ No ‘Sticky Glue’ or ‘Giggle Dust,’ promise, okay?” Her tone was innocent, expectant.

Aphrosia eyed the mysterious tunnel, then the door about to be overwhelmed by pink flames, and the lolis—one excited, one curious—staring at her.

Her lips curved into a sly, resigned smile.

“Guess we’re out of options?” She shrugged, stepping into the tunnel. “Let’s see where this jackpot leads. As for her… let her knock!”

She left a wobbly blue-red heart on the door’s inner side with magic (definitely Ifrora’s bad influence!).

Why blue? Her elf blood had a high affinity for wind, wood, and water magic…

Without hesitation, Aphrosia led Mistfeather and Blazewing into the tunnel’s darkness.

The fireplace sealed silently behind them, muffling Ifrora’s sweet calls.

Outside, Ifrora’s fingers brushed the door, her crimson eyes gleaming with deeper amusement.

“Oh my~ Into the rabbit hole? This just gets… more fun.”

Her fingertip flicked, leaving a pink, winged heart sticker on the door seam—a playful marker.

“Too bad I didn’t confirm if you’re my pointy-eared mister…”

“No matter~” She hummed a tuneless song, turning cheerfully. “Next time, double the surprise, my dear… little canary?”