Teleported into My Own Novel as the Author!

The morning air was crisp as Char and Tess stepped out of the safe house, leaving Ishmael, Callen, and Marin behind. The city of Oryn-Vel was just beginning to stir, the streets gradually filling with merchants setting up their stalls and travelers passing through. Char glanced back toward the door, a small part of him wondering if he should have stayed behind.

But he had already agreed to go with Tess.

And besides, he needed answers.

As they walked, Tess moved with an easy confidence, hands in the pockets of her long coat, her gait relaxed yet purposeful. She whistled a tune under her breath, her dark hair catching the light.

Char had a proper look at her, now that she was wearing decent clothing. Her eyes were pale blue, her skin was tanned from the days out in the warm days of the south. He remembered writing a story of her, set years ago, where she spent a month alone in a huge desert. It seemed the effects were still visible. Her curly hair was long and luscious, much better than he could ever describe with words. She was deadly, and beautiful at the same time.

"Where exactly are we going?" Char then asked, pulling his own coat tighter against the morning chill.

Tess smirked. "We're making a stop first. Figured you might want to look less like a lost puppy and more like someone who actually belongs in this city."

Char frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Tess cast a glance at his clothes—a wrinkled, ill-fitting shirt and pants that were a little too short at the ankles. "Nothing, if you enjoy looking like you just climbed out of a gutter."

Char rolled his eyes. "Wow. Thanks."

She laughed. "Relax, stray. You need gear anyway. No sense walking around looking like an easy target."

He wanted to argue, but she wasn't wrong. If he was going to be here for who knew how long, he needed something practical—something that wouldn't make him stand out as some clueless outsider.

The streets grew narrower as they moved deeper into the city, the buildings older, the alleys darker. Eventually, they stopped in front of a shop tucked between two larger buildings, its wooden sign marked only with a simple dagger symbol. Vellmar's Trinkets & Wares

Tess pushed open the door without hesitation, and Char followed.

Inside, the shop smelled of leather, metal, and oil. Various weapons and pieces of armor were displayed along the walls—knives, swords, crossbows, even a few firearms. There were shelves filled with small trinkets, vials of unknown liquids, and stones that pulsed faintly with color. A heavy wooden counter sat at the back, where an old man was polishing a dagger. He was probably Vellmar, though Char hadn't a clue as he was another new addition like Rook.

He looked up, her sharp green eyes flicking to Tess, then to Char.

"Well, well," he said, setting the dagger down. "Didn't expect to see you so soon."

"Figured I'd stop by," Tess said, leaning against the counter. "Brought a friend. He needs some gear."

Vellmar arched a brow, looking Char over. "A friend, huh?"

"Something like that," Tess said with a smirk.

Char cleared his throat. "Uh. Yeah. Just… something practical. Nothing too fancy."

The man studied him a moment longer before nodding toward the racks. "Look around. See what you like."

Char hesitated before moving toward the clothing section. There were coats of varying lengths, shirts of different materials, and pants reinforced at the knees. After some consideration, he picked out a dark, button-up jacket with a high collar—sturdy, but not overly heavy. He paired it with fitted black pants and knee-high boots made of flexible leather.

When he turned back to the counter, Tess was watching him with an amused expression.

"Not bad," she said. "Almost looks like you know what you're doing."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Char muttered.

Next came weapons. Char ran his fingers over the hilts of various blades, feeling the weight of a few before settling on two thin knives—light enough to be concealed, but sturdy enough for actual use.

Lastly, he turned to the shelves of trinkets. His eyes landed on a small stone that pulsed with a faint green glow.

"That's a healing stone," the shopkeeper said, noticing his interest. "Good for one use. After that, it turns to dust."

Char hesitated before picking it up. It was warm against his palm, the glow steady and reassuring. He had no idea how useful something like this would be, but in a world as unpredictable as this one, he figured it was better to be prepared.

He turned to Tess. "I think this is everything."

She nodded and placed a few coins on the counter.

Char blinked. "Wait, you're paying?"

Tess smirked. "Obviously."

"You don't have to—"

"Relax, stray. Consider it an investment. Can't have you getting stabbed in the street because you're too broke to dress properly."

Char exhaled, unsure whether to be grateful or annoyed. "Thanks, I guess."

Tess grinned. "Don't mention it. Now, let's get moving. We've got a Syndicate informant to visit."