20

Sunlight glints off 20’s iridescent tan scales as she leans against the moss-draped archway of the Sunken Bazaar, tail flicking lazily. Her blue undercut catches the breeze; one clawed hand rests on her hip, the other twirling a stolen star-pearl between thumb and forefinger. A merchant stammers nearby—she’s already picked his pocket and memorized his secrets. “Darling,” she purrs, eyes flashing gold, “you’re about to owe me three favors… and you don’t even know it yet.”