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Swallowing hard, he took a step back. "Look. It's not my place to say anything. I'm nothing but an old fool. Obviously, you came in for a reason, and my inane assumptions distracted you from that. Let's —"
My nail beds itched and burned as my irritation boiled over. I leaned closer, and the man shrank further back.
"Finish what you were saying. NOW." I slammed my hands onto the wooden countertop. The glass vials teetered, and several fell to the ground.
The man lifted his hands as if to ward me off. "A body mage. Okay? I thought you were a body mage."
All the tension in my shoulders and back released, and a laugh exploded from deep in my belly. "A mage? That's all? And a body mage at that."
I might be cursed by some dark spell, but there was no way the witch, or anyone for that matter, could change a person's korra. You either were a mage, or you weren't. And after twenty years of testing by Imperial Seekers, I was certain which side I was on.
"You have it backward, Sir." I smiled. "I'm an investigator for the Empire. I hunt mages."
The man's eyes widened, and cheeks paled. "Y — yes. What a laughable m-m-mistake. Some Forsaken are sensitive to scent, you see. And with your — well." He motioned to my eyes, then my arms. "— attributes, I thought you might be one. Idiocy. Many apologies for the mistake, Investigator!"
I grinned wolfishly. "Well, good sir, no harm done."
He forced out an affirmative sound and a nod, but his cheeks were still pale and his eyes wide with fear.
Oh well. Let him believe what he wanted. Kings will be gods, and faithless will be fools.
"So, ah." He swallowed audibly. "How may I help you this fine evening?" Adjusting his collar, he bent to collect the broken vials.
"I'm looking for a potion that would let me reach the Forsaken Isle."
He stumbled and dropped the broken pieces he'd been collecting, then lifted his head to study me like some problem he couldn't quite solve. "You've heard the island is unreachable by non-mages?"
That was close enough to what I'd heard. I nodded for him to continue.
"So you need a potion to get there … because you are not a mage … but you are hunting one?"
I nodded again. Why did he still sound uncertain? Hadn't we already gone over this? Crossing my arms, I glared down at him.
He looked me over once more, then shrugged. "Who am I to argue with an investigator?"
Shaking his head, he stepped over the broken glass behind the counter and walked to a wall lined with hundreds of small bottles containing various liquids, powders, and objects.
As a man of logic and science, I'd hazard a guess that most of what he sold was rubbish — an easy way to make money off desperate fools. But I had to believe this was different.
It had to be.
He moved a few bottles aside, shook his head, then climbed a small ladder and tugged down a slim wooden box. Lifting the lid, he peeked inside and nodded, looking from it to me, eyes tight. "You know, I sell these potions, but I don't make this elixir myself. So I'm not liable if it doesn't work?"
I nodded.
"And you understand there will be side-effects?"
I nodded again.
"Okay. But I can't go around selling things like this to strangers who —"
"Just give me the potion." I growled.
He winced and pulled out a bottle, then replaced the box before climbing down. Reluctantly, he dropped the little bottle of yellow liquid into my outstretched hand, and I slipped it into my satchel.
"How much do I owe you?"
He looked between me, the candle, the broken vials, and the small potion. "Nothing. Just take it and go."
