Myka needs to search the store a bit more, something is here...

Jenny chuckled softly, her gaze lingering on Myka’s face as if memorizing every curve and line. “Well then,” she said, gesturing towards a plush velvet armchair tucked beneath the window where sunlight spilled in like liquid gold. “Why don’t you take a seat? I have some rather delightful crimson "wine" that might inspire your 'artifact y' search.”

Myka couldn't help but smile at the playful lilt in Jenny’s voice. "Crimson Wine?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds… potent."

“It is,” Jenny confirmed with another enigmatic smile as she poured a generous amount of ruby-red liquid into two delicate crystal glasses. “I made it myself, and quite delicious.”

Myka accepted one of the glasses, swirling the wine to watch its crimson depths catch and reflect the sunlight filtering through the dusty windowpanes. The scent that rose from it was intoxicating – rich with notes of berries and spice, laced with a hint of something darker, metalic, more primal.

“Thank you,” Myka said, taking a tentative sip. The taste exploded on her tongue: sweet at first, then warming into a complex symphony of flavors that lingered long after she swallowed. It wasn't like any wine she’d ever tasted before – it was as if the very essence of life itself had been distilled into this single glass.

“So,” Jenny said, settling onto an ornate chaise lounge draped in faded velvet and watching Myka with those captivating emerald eyes. “What are you looking for exactly?”

Myka took another sip of wine, savoring its warmth spreading through her chest like a comforting ember. She found herself relaxing into the plush armchair, letting the scent of lavender sachets and old paper wash over her in soothing waves.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted honestly. “Something unusual, something… corrupted.” She gestured vaguely towards the surrounding shelves. "An object that's somehow... twisted."

Jenny nodded slowly, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow as she traced patterns on the armrest of her chaise lounge with long, slender fingers tipped with chipped crimson nail polish. “Corrupted,” she echoed softly. “Yes, I think I understand.”

She rose gracefully and moved towards a shadowy corner behind a towering stack of dusty globes. Myka watched as Jenny disappeared into the gloom, then reappeared moments later carrying a small wooden chest bound in tarnished brass bat clasps.

The air around it seemed to shimmer with an almost imperceptible heat haze as she set it on the table between them. “This,” Jenny said, her voice hushed and reverent, “might be what you’re looking for.”

Myka leaned forward, drawn by a sudden surge of curiosity that had little to do with the wine warming her blood and everything to do with the enigmatic woman before her. She reached out and traced a fingertip over one of the brass bat clasps – cold metal beneath her touch yet radiating an inner heat like a sunstone held against bare skin.

“What is it?” she asked, feeling a strange pull towards the chest as if some unseen **** beckoned her closer.

Jenny’s smile was almost predatory in its intensity. “Open it,” she breathed, leaning forward so close that Myka could smell metallic again and the faint scent of lavender and something else – something wild and untamed like the heart of a storm. “And see for yourself.”

Myka hesitated only a moment before pressing down on the bat with her thumb. The chest creaked open as if sighing after centuries of slumber, revealing its contents in a burst of swirling darkness that seemed to suck the light from the room itself…

Then everything went black.