Chapter 8: The Art of Not Being Noticed

Kaelira Voss had no intention of becoming important.
It was a simple principle, one that had served her well for years—stay useful, stay observant, and most importantly, stay out of anything that attracted attention from people with authority, power, or the kind of curiosity that came with both.
Right now, the Tower had all three circling it.
Which meant Kael needed to be careful.

The market had changed again.
Not in noise—if anything, it was louder than before—but in focus. People weren’t just trading anymore; they were watching. Watching the Tower, watching the guards, watching each other. Every new batch of materials that arrived was examined twice, sometimes three times, and even then, most deals ended with hesitation instead of certainty.
Kael adjusted her stall accordingly.
Her “verified” goods were placed front and center, clearly marked and priced slightly higher than usual. The questionable items—the ones she had been tracking—were kept behind, out of immediate view. Not hidden, just… not advertised.
There was a difference.
If someone asked, she would answer.
If no one asked, she wouldn’t offer.
It kept things simple.

“You’re charging more.”
Kael didn’t look up. “I’m charging accurately.”
The customer frowned, holding up a strip of metal. “This used to be cheaper.”
“This used to be consistent,” she replied calmly. “Now it isn’t.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“It becomes your problem when it breaks at the wrong time,” Kael said. “Decide which version of the problem you prefer.”
He hesitated.
Then, reluctantly, handed over the coin.

That was happening more often now.
Not just with her.
Across the market.
People were adapting in their own ways—some by lowering prices to move uncertain goods faster, others by refusing to buy anything they couldn’t verify themselves. A few had stopped trading Tower materials altogether, shifting to whatever alternatives they could find outside.
None of it fixed the issue.
It just worked around it.

Kael kept her notebook closed.
Not because she wasn’t tracking anymore—but because she was.
Just differently.
She memorized patterns as they appeared, comparing them quietly instead of writing them down in plain sight. A notebook was useful, but it was also evidence, and right now, she didn’t want anything that looked like she was studying the Tower too closely.
That was the kind of thing that got noticed.
And noticed meant questioned.

“Still pretending this doesn’t concern you?”
Kael glanced up as Riven appeared, dusting off his hands like he’d just come from somewhere inconvenient.
“You’re still pretending I care about your opinions?” she replied.
He smirked faintly and leaned against the side of her stall, but this time he didn’t linger idly. He placed a small bundle on the table, then another, each one wrapped tightly and marked with quick symbols.
“Samples,” he said. “From different floors.”
Kael’s eyes flicked to them, then back to him. “You’re being productive. That’s unsettling.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said. “I’m only doing this because you’re the only one actually paying attention.”
“That sounds like a poor life choice.”
“Probably,” he admitted.

She unwrapped the first bundle carefully.
Herbs.
Correct cut. Slightly dulled color.
She didn’t say anything, just moved to the next.
Metal.
Same issue as before—structure that didn’t quite match its supposed origin.
Then the third.
Water vial.
She didn’t drink it this time. Just uncorked it slightly, inhaled, and closed it again.
“…Consistent inconsistency,” she murmured.
Riven exhaled through his nose. “You’re going to keep calling it that, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It still sounds ridiculous.”
“So does the situation.”
He couldn’t argue with that.

Kael rewrapped the items and pushed them slightly aside, not adding them to her visible stock.
“You went up to Twelve again?” she asked.
Riven shook his head. “No. They’ve restricted movement.”
That made her pause.
“…Restricted how?”
“Not officially,” he said. “But the teams are prioritizing routes. Slowing down independent climbs.”
Kael leaned back slightly, processing.
“So they’re controlling flow without announcing it.”
“Exactly.”
She tapped her fingers once against the table.
That meant two things.
First, the authorities were taking this seriously.
Second, they didn’t want people to panic.

“Any word?” she asked, her tone more neutral than curious.
Riven knew what she meant anyway.
He shook his head once.
“No Tarin,” he said.
Kael didn’t react.
Not visibly.
But she filed it away, placing it alongside everything else that didn’t add up.

A pair of officials moved through the market then—not climbers, not guards, but something in between. Their presence wasn’t loud, but it was deliberate, and people noticed.
They stopped at a few stalls, asked questions, examined goods briefly before moving on.
When they approached Kael, she didn’t tense.
Didn’t hide anything.
She just shifted slightly, making space.
“Trader,” one of them said. “You deal in Tower materials?”
“Among other things,” Kael replied.
“Have you noticed irregularities?”
She met his gaze evenly.
“Everyone has,” she said. “Quality varies. Prices adjust.”
Neutral.
Accurate.
Uninvolved.

The official studied her for a moment longer than necessary, then nodded slightly.
“If you notice anything significant, report it.”
Kael tilted her head. “Define significant.”
He didn’t answer that.
They moved on.

Riven watched them go, then glanced back at her.
“You held back.”
“I answered the question,” she said.
“You didn’t answer everything.”
Kael picked up a piece of metal, examining it with casual precision.
“I’m not part of their investigation,” she said. “And I’m not volunteering to be.”
“They could use what you’ve noticed.”
“They could also decide I’ve noticed too much.”
Riven didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Fair.”

The market settled again after the officials passed, but the tension didn’t leave.
It just shifted.
Quieter.
More contained.

Kael kept working.
Buying, selling, rejecting, observing.
The rhythm was familiar, even if the details weren’t.
And that familiarity was important.
It made everything else feel manageable.

She didn’t write anything down.
Didn’t organize her findings into clear conclusions.
Didn’t push further than necessary.
Because pushing meant attention.
And attention meant risk.

But she still saw it.
The way materials blurred between floors.
The way consistency broke in small, repeatable ways.
The way even experienced climbers hesitated before confirming what they carried.

And the way the Tower stood—
Silent.
Unchanged.
As if none of it mattered.

By evening, the market had thinned again.
Kael packed her things slowly, more thoughtful than usual but no less controlled.
Riven lingered nearby, not speaking, just present in that quiet way he had when he was thinking more than talking.

“You’re still staying out of it,” he said eventually.
Kael tied off a bundle, then set it aside before answering.
“Yes.”
“Even now?”
She glanced at him briefly.
“Especially now.”

He nodded once, like he expected that.
“Alright,” he said. “Then I’ll keep going in.”
Kael paused.
“…Be observant,” she said. “Not brave.”
Riven smirked faintly. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
“They shouldn’t be,” she replied.

They fell quiet again after that.
No dramatic realization.
No sudden decision.
Just an understanding—unspoken, but clear.

Kael would watch.
Riven would move.
And the Tower—
Would do whatever it was already doing.

As she lifted her crate and turned away from the stall, Kael allowed herself one brief glance toward it.
Just one.

It looked the same as always.

That was the problem.