The Lower Bazaar of Grin Hollow was a cacophony of sights, sounds, and smells. Vendors shouted over one another to peddle their wares—enchanted trinkets, exotic spices, and freshly baked bread that wafted through the air. Beneath the glowing green lanterns, the market felt alive, a patchwork of the mundane and the necromantic.

  Autumn strolled through the bustling crowd, her sharp eyes scanning the stalls for the butcher's stand. Beside her, Azrath kept his hood up, blending into the shadows like a specter. The townsfolk were used to seeing their resident necromancer by now, but Azrath still preferred to move unnoticed when possible.

  "You know," Autumn said, glancing at him with a smirk, "you could help me pick out the bacon instead of brooding like some tragic hero."

  Azrath huffed softly, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile. "I’m merely observing. You seem to have a talent for navigating chaos."

  Autumn chuckled, reaching for a package of thick-cut bacon at the butcher’s stall. "You call this chaos? You should see my workshop after an explosion. Now *that’s* chaos."

  The butcher, a jovial dwarf with a thick beard, handed over the bacon and accepted a few silver coins from Autumn. "This the same bacon you liked last time, miss. Good for frying...or spellcasting, I suppose," he said with a wink, glancing warily at Azrath.

  Autumn grinned. "Just frying tonight, don’t worry. Thanks, Ulrist."

  With their prize secured, the two made their way back to Azrath’s modest tower on the edge of the city. The air was cool, and the streets were quieter now, save for the occasional skeleton guard patrolling the perimeter.

  Autumn insisted on doing the cooking, claiming Azrath’s kitchen would go unused otherwise. She bustled around the small space, frying the bacon and preparing a simple meal of eggs and roasted potatoes while Azrath sat at the table, occasionally glancing her way.

  "You’re surprisingly domestic," he remarked, leaning back in his chair.

  Autumn snorted. "Don’t let it fool you. I’m just tired of eating rations and whatever Potabeau calls 'campfire cuisine.' Besides, I enjoy cooking. It’s... grounding."

  Azrath nodded, watching her work. There was a lightness to her movements, a confidence that came from years of crafting and experimenting. He found it oddly mesmerizing.

  When the meal was ready, they sat together at the table, the aroma of freshly cooked bacon filling the room. Autumn poured them each a cup of spiced cider and raised her glass.

  "To Grin Hollow," she said, her grin warm and genuine. "And to whatever madness we’re building here."

  Azrath allowed himself a rare smile, clinking his glass against hers. "To Grin Hollow. And to the people who make it worth protecting."

  They ate in silence for a while, the only sounds the clink of utensils and the occasional crackle of the fireplace. But there was an unspoken tension in the air, a quiet understanding that neither dared to voice.

  Finally, Autumn broke the silence. "You know, Az, you’re not as intimidating as you think you are."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

  She nodded, leaning back in her chair with a sly smile. "You’re thoughtful, patient, and you have a knack for seeing potential in others. Sure, you’re a bit dramatic with the whole necromancer aesthetic, but deep down, you’re just... human."

  Azrath looked down at his plate, uncharacteristically flustered. "And you’re surprisingly insightful for someone who once tried to animate a clockwork antler."

  Autumn laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Touché. But you didn’t answer my question from earlier."

  He looked up, his expression softening. "Which was?"

  She met his gaze, her tone quieter now. "Do you ever let yourself just... enjoy the moment? Or are you always thinking ten steps ahead?"

  Azrath hesitated, considering her words. "It’s difficult to let go of that mindset. But... perhaps tonight is an exception."

  Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of their responsibilities seemed to fade. In that quiet space, there was only the warmth of the fire, the lingering taste of cider, and the unspoken bond growing between them.

  "Good," Autumn said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because moments like this don’t come around often. Might as well enjoy them while we can."

  Azrath nodded, his voice equally quiet. "Agreed."

  They finished their meal in silence, but the air between them felt lighter, filled with a quiet understanding that needed no words. For one night, they allowed themselves to simply be.

  - - -

  The icy expanse of the south pole stretched endlessly before Mervin and his skeletal assistants, a glittering wasteland of snow and frost. The wind howled around them, carrying flurries of ice crystals that sparkled in the pale sunlight. Despite the cold, Mervin was in high spirits. After months of travel and countless obstacles, he had finally reached the southernmost point of the planet.

  Wrapped in layers of enchanted fur-lined robes, Mervin surveyed the landscape. His skeletal assistants stood nearby, their bones clinking faintly in the icy wind. Each one wore a crude scarf or hat, courtesy of Autumn’s humor, though the skeletons seemed oblivious to their accessories.

  "Alright, team," Mervin said, clapping his gloved hands together. "This is it. The southern pole. Time to report our making of history."

  One of the skeletons tilted its head, its hollow eye sockets filled with faint green necromantic light.

  Mervin knelt to open his pack, pulling out a bizarre contraption that looked like a mix between a telescope, a compass, and a gramophone. The device, dubbed the *Necr-adio* by Potabeau, was recently improved to detect necromantic leyline frequencies and transmit them back to Grin Hollow. Theoretically.

  "Okay, let’s see if this thing works," Mervin muttered, setting the Necr-adio on a flat patch of ice. He adjusted the dials and pointed the receiver toward the horizon. "Skeleton #3, hand me the crank."

  Skeleton #3 obediently shuffled forward and handed Mervin a small crank. He inserted it into the device and began turning. The Necr-adio whirred to life, emitting a low hum that quickly turned into an eerie, static-filled wail.

  Mervin winced, pulling back. "That doesn’t sound right."

  Skeleton #1 leaned in, its jaw opening and closing as if it were trying to say something.

  "What’s that?" Mervin asked, leaning closer.

  The skeleton raised a bony hand and pointed to the receiver, which was now vibrating wildly. Without warning, the Necr-adio emitted a loud *pop* and a burst of green light.

  "Ah!" Mervin stumbled backward, tripping over Skeleton #2, who caught him just before he hit the ground.

  When the light faded, the Necr-adio was still intact, but the receiver had tilted sideways, and a faint voice crackled through the static.

  "...testing... Grin Hollow... anyone receiving? This is Potabeau and—"

  The transmission cut out, replaced by garbled static.

  Mervin scrambled forward, adjusting the dials frantically. "Potabeau! Can you hear me? It’s Mervin!"

  The static shifted, and the faint sound of Potabeau’s voice returned, though it was heavily distorted.

  "...Mervin! I can’t believe it’s working! Did you actually make it to the south pole? Also, did you pack enough socks?"

  Mervin suppressed a laugh. "Yes, I’m at the south pole, and no, I didn’t pack socks—because I have enchanted boots!"

  Skeleton #3 suddenly raised both arms, as if cheering. Its unexpected enthusiasm startled Mervin, causing him to knock over the Necr-adio.

  "Careful!" he scolded, scrambling to right the device.

  The static grew louder, and Potabeau’s voice cut through again.

  "...is it just me, or did I hear a skeleton jostled around? Are they unionizing down there?"

  Mervin groaned. "No, they’re not unionizing! One of them just got overexcited."

  "Well, that’s a relief," Potabeau replied, his tone amused. "Anyway, congrats on making it. Azrath wants you to take detailed notes on the leyline activity, but if the skeletons start dancing, make sure to film it."

  Before Mervin could respond, the transmission cut out completely, leaving only static.

  He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course the connection would drop right when I need instructions."

  Skeleton #2 gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, its bony hand clacking against his robe.

  "Thanks," Mervin said, smiling despite himself. "Alright, let’s get this thing recalibrated. If I’m going to map the leylines, I’ll need you lot to help me stabilize it this time."

  The skeletons saluted in unison, their movements jerky but determined.

  As Mervin set to work, the icy winds howled around them, but his spirits remained high. It wasn’t every day that you got to combine necromancy, science, and a touch of absurdity on one of the most remote places on the planet.

  "Let’s make history," he muttered, tightening a bolt on the Necr-adio. "And maybe not break anything in the process."

  Behind him, Skeleton #3 tilted its head, as if to say, *No promises.*