The Omega Bazaar

The Shattered Stone was at the bottom end of a winding, steep lane. Numerous small shops and homes were carved directly into the stone walls before them. Beyond those original structures, Sayane noticed the haphazardly crafted shanties and simple dwelling spaces that were mounted on top of one another like barely stable building blocks. More tapestries and glowing cables hung from the wiring all around them.

Light seemed faint and lacking full color. It was the same in The Shattered Stone, but Sayane had thought that was a byproduct of the mystique of the space. Only now did she begin to wonder if everything was muted like the sounds on the surface.

Walking was slow between Azag’s crutches, Attis’s tiny legs, and Sayane’s wound. Still, up they went.

Attis’s body was barely larger than each step, and Sayane couldn’t help but enjoy the cuteness of watching him flip himself up every individual rise with a slight squeak. Still, she felt bad for the effort.

“Attis, would you like me to carry you? I don’t mind,” offered Sayane.

“Oh, bless you, child. That would be lovely,” Attis grinned in relief.

“If only we had, Esca was it?” Sayane asked Azag, who huffed something like a laugh.

“Yes. Esca is her name.”

“She? Is she… alive?”

Azag chuckled once more.

“No. I just thought she deserved a name. She’s a wondrous machina and has helped me greatly in the years since I repaired her. It didn’t feel right to just think of her as a device.”

He was a mysterious, brooding sort of fellow. Everything he said seemed to reveal more layers that Sayane struggled to understand. Why did he help them if he seemed to despise the revolution? Why did he hide away in a tavern at the bottom of the underworld, yet open his doors to any who were in trouble? Why did so many others seem to respect him yet not trust him? Why did he care to honor and name something that many others would simply view as a tool or weapon?

“You’re very interesting, Azag. And, tell Esca thank you for saving us. I never got to, but we’d likely have all been dead without her,” said Sayane with an honest smile as she lifted Attis into her arms.

Azag’s head tilted down and to the side in a pause before simply nodding.

By now, they had reached the top of the stairs, and an even more fascinating sight met Sayane. Looking up, Sayane couldn’t contain the audible gasp of wonder that escaped her lips.

They were at the base of a massive, multi-story atrium. Hive-like structures lined the entirety of the space, from the ground level, up the walls, and even up to the ceiling, where hundreds of shops and structures hung suspended like lanterns. Streaks of light drifted through the open space as innumerable lanterns and floating orbs of light provided illumination. Skybridges of glowing rope connected the multiple levels with snaking paths.

Hundreds of wandering figures moved through the shops with an echoing noise of life’s energy. Voices called to one another. Flying beings moved up and down between storefronts without a care. Trees and old growth of bioluminescence lined the walls and roofs of the shop. Pulsing fissures throbbed colors of all variations as the shoppers walked on their stone surfaces.

In the distance, an enormous waterfall cascaded along the edges of the space and split into multiple smaller falls that fed pools of water. Those pools turned into streams, which sent flowing, cool air and water along the pathways. Dozens of beings were drinking from the stream without concern as Sayane walked by.

“What was it you said, Attis? When you heard about me singing near the instruments? Wonder?” Sayane asked.

“What wonder,” said Attis.

“What wonder!” echoed Sayane as she looked up at the stunning vista.

“Welcome to Omega Bazaar,” said Azag.

Scents of earthen spices mixed with furnace smoke and incense. Shops selling vegetables of unusual color and texture called out for customers. Enormous leaves of plants were laid out to dry as offerings for consumption. Meat was nowhere to be seen. Only vegetables, fruits, grains, and roots.

Azag led them forward as Sayane allowed herself to be lost in the sights, sounds, and scents. Even though everything was muted, it somehow felt pure and alive. There was a grimy desperation to the secrecy and darkness of the space, but it did not feel dangerous. Sayane did notice a handful of intrigued glances shot in her direction, so she pulled her hood close, but did not become afraid.

Beside them, an enormous, leathery creature leaned forward. Its eyes were at the ends of two separate trunks, and they moved separately from one another as it observed Azag and his followers. Then one eye settled on Sayane and Attis.

“By the sounds, is that you Attis?!” bellowed the creature.

“Can-Mo! Blessings to you my dear! It’s been ages! I didn’t know you had set up shop here!” said Attis as he jumped upright to bow to the enormous figure.

Azag paused and waited. The creature named Can-Mo returned the bow.

“Aye! Silence burned down the old towne, so I wound up here. Look at the state of my poor work on you! You’ve let it sit in dust too long haven’t you!” said Can-Mo as a tentacle appeared to inspect Attis’s cloak.

“Well, we’ve all been a little pre-occupied. I haven’t worn this since before the plague years! I give you my word I’ll tend to it with more dedication now, dear friend,” laughed Attis.

Then the bobbing eyes settled on Sayane, who felt herself tensing in intimidation as Can-Mo slid its enormous, mult-tentacled body from behind the shop to meet her. The eyes narrowed perceptively as they neared her face. Beside them, Azag’s hands lowered and tightened on his canes.

“Sooooo. It is true. The whispers I’ve heard have been quite fascinating. A she-hume that was once a songstress…” whispered Can-Mo.

“No idea what you are referring to, Can-Mo,” said Azag.

“This is merely a refugee I’ve brought on to help with work at The Shattered Stone,” he said as his glowing eyes narrowed.

Can-Mo smiled in understanding and laughed to itself.

“Of course, dear boy! Of course! Then I shall make an effort to come by the old Stone soon! I’m most intrigued to talk with your… helper…” it said with a sincere bow.

As it bowed, a tentacle slid around Sayane’s hand with gentle grace and gave her the softest squeeze. As Can-Mo turned away, Sayane could swear she saw tears in its eyes.

“Wait, Can-Mo,” said Sayane.

All of them turned to face Sayane.

“I came here to buy some clothes. I am in need of a new wardrobe, and it seems you know that sort of thing. Would you have anything that would work for a she-hume like me?” Sayane asked.

Can-Mo let out a wail of gratitude that shocked Sayane and caused several passersby to stop in confusion.

“Can-Mo! Control thyself!!” laughed Attis.

“The songstress! I mean helper! The helper wishes to grace my humble store!!! What wonder!!!” cried Can-Mo.

Azag exhaled and pushed his mask back in place.

“Take that as a yes, then?” he sighed.

Multiple tentacles burst forward to throw the curtains of the shop aside, revealing a packed workroom full of fabrics and decorations.

“It would be my honor to fit you, my lady!!” said Can-Mo as it led the three of them into its labyrinth of clothing.

The vibrance was not what Sayane was anticipating. In her mind, she was bracing for a few simple tunics and muted greys. What greeted her was ornate patterning, explosions of color that were strong even in the muted light, and hundreds of accent pieces that screamed for customization.

“This is… wow. I’m overwhelmed at the options!” Sayane exclaimed as Attis hopped from her arms and down onto a cushion.

“Can-Mo was once a fine tailor in the most prestigious district of the Upper Rings!”

“Still a fine tailor, just no longer in the Rings. But I’ve made due for myself down here in the slums. No disrespect, Azag,” said Can-Mo.

“None taken,” replied Azag, who was rubbing his chest for relief.

“Please, sit. You may use my chair. I’m even larger than you so it should be big enough for you,” said Can-Mo as a tentacle pointed absentmindedly to a large three-legged seat.

Azag accepted and sat down, all the while keeping his gaze on the world outside.

“Take your time, songstress. I will keep watch for any concerns,” he said.

“Thank you,” Sayane replied.

“Now, allow me to find you some options that could be adjusted for your size. Your build is not unlike the Varran or Quarrosans, though it seems as though your bust is larger,” said Can-Mo without a concern.

Behind them, Azag coughed and cleared his throat. Sayane blushed and tried not to laugh.

Tentacles surrounded her in waiting.

“May I remove your cloak and begin measuring?” asked Can-Mo?

“Certainly,” replied Sayane as she held her arms upwards.

Fabric slid over her shoulders and head, and she was left in her costume.

“Fascinating clothing,” said Can-Mo.

“It was a costume for my old job sing- helping…” said Sayane.

“Of course,” grinned Can-Mo as the tentacles moved around her to measure.

String was pulled across her chest, shoulders, waist, hip, knees, and thighs. At the same time, another tentacle was righting notes, while Can-Mo’s eyes were scanning fabric and decorations.

“Clothing is a sacred form of expression. Especially in times of darkness. To exist is to be in rebellion. To keep your color and image alive even when The Silence wishes for all to be muted, that is revolution in itself. Thus, let yourself be revolutionary. What color would most resonate with you?” asked Can-Mo.

It was something that stirred a feeling of excitement in Sayane. For so long, her outfits had been planned. Now, she was given choice and freedom to decide for herself. When thinking about what color she was most excited about, a single thought jumped out. It was the color of the purple glows in the stones that first greeted her when she arrived in this world.

“Bright purple,” she replied.

“Wondrous!” said Attis with a clap.

Can-Mo smiled and bowed.

“And this knee bracing. It is necessary?” Can-Mo asked.

“Yes. It helps me move. So I’d like that to be integrated into my outfit. And could it be something that doesn’t have tight stitching around my chest? That was called a corset in my world, and I never want to wear another one for all my days.”

“Your comfort shall be my mission, dear child,” said Can-Mo as it closed its notebook and bowed.

“Now, give me an hour, and I shall have you new options to feel at once yourself and at once new.”

It bowed and slid away into the back rooms of its shop. Sayane had absolute faith that whatever it returned with, she would be thrilled.