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—Misrue, Ondine territory, Alfheim.
“The sign outside said you also buy and pawn. In that case, how much will you pay for these?”
At the back of a dusty old store filled with false antiquities and grand claims, a girl with brilliant colored hair unwrapped a piece of fabric and unveiled a dagger sheathed in bronze.
The Ondine shopkeep, who had just been speaking to an elderly woman in a corner out of sight, peeked a glance at the dagger before quickly looking away with disinterest. He had a curled mustache and was of a larger build scarcely found here in the desert.
“Ten gerah,” he declared flatly.
“Okay,” the girl agreed readily.
The shopkeep, hearing this, perked his ears and he took a careful hand to unsheath the dagger.
“Wait. Look at the grains on the body, it’s all a mess, look at these swirls, a clear sign of poor craftsmanship. It will break with a use.”
Then, as if to prove his point, the Ondine man flipped the pommel towards the girl and pointed towards the notches engraved into it.
“This is a wax seal, something only found on ornaments. The most this dagger can do is to look pretty on the side of one’s belt. Four, no, five gerah. That is as much as I’m willing to pay for something like this”
“Is that so?” the girl said, her dull eyes, which were the shade of freshly spilled blood, flashed dangerously.
“Yes. I swear on my mother’s grave,” the shopkeep felt his hairs stand on end as he subconsciously sucked in a sharp breath of air.
“Even though you were just speaking with her in the back?”
“You are mistaken,” the shopkeeper responded flatly.
“…Then that is fine,” the girl paused and then merely said.
…
Later, in the plaza.
“You sold the dagger off? I know you said you would, but so quickly? We just left,” a gentle voice asked the girl, who had been sitting down in the middle of biting into a lunch of some sorts made from two pieces of rye bread and some cut of lamb.
“I said I would, so I did.”
“No, but that guy sure will be in for a surprise when he realizes just what he’s been sold.”
“Eh, I don’t really care,” the girl shrugged dismissively before returning to her food. However, after that single bite, she seemed to have lost all appetite and reeled away from the meal. Though she still properly chewed and swallowed that morsel.
“No good?” her companion bent down and asked.
“Still no good. It feels disgusting. And it’s even worse since the flavoring is so bland.”
“Give me. Let me finish it then. Don’t waste food.”
The girl handed the package over with an expression that seemed like she was about to gag.
“You’re the last person I want to hear that from when you always just pick out the meat and touch nothing else.”
And true to the girl’s words, her companion with the gentle voice gleefully did exactly just that before handing the rye bread back to its original owner.
“Mmmm,” her companion mused after finishing the lamb slices in a single mouthful, “bland, but not unpalatable. Tickles a bit going down though. Don’t look at me with those repulsive eyes. That’s your problem. Anyways, that’s not what I meant. We met that guy, Zerem, like just two days ago? I don’t know how I would feel if I gave something to you only for you to pawn it off not even three days later.”
“I’m sorry for not being so flawlessly charismatic as you are. You should have been there to turn him down for me instead of filling your plate on the buffet tables, thank you very much. Bah. Well, I did tell him I would pawn it off the first chance I got, and I did. So that’s that.”
“But don’t you feel at least a little bit sorry for the guy you sold it to though? Zerem seemed like the type to get the whips out when things don’t go his way, if you know what I mean.”
“Nothing will happen to the pawnbroker as long as he doesn’t try to do anything stupid with it. That’s my experience with people like Zerem at least.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for the people of this kingdom if their king is such a jerk?”
The sunset haired girl shrugged.
“Fine, I suppose. How much did you get for it then?” the gentle voice asked curiously this time.
“Five gerah: a half beka.”
The girl explained the entire process while showing off four tiny silver coins the size of the nail on her little finger. She had paid one gerah earlier in exchange for a loaf of rye bread and some cooked lamb wrapped in a large leaf.
“Wow~ You got completely ripped off— scammed and conned, heheh. Did he really tell you that the swirl patterns of damascus steel were a sign of poor craftsmanship? He must have been trying very hard to keep a straight face the entire time knowing how much he was about to profit off of you.”
“Ah well, we’re leaving this country soon anyways so I just figured I might as well. Besides, I have as much use for these coins as I have for Zerem’s dagger. Come, let’s go.”
As the girl stood up to leave, she turned towards the old beggar sitting portside all this time and dropped the four silver gerah coins into his lap, along with the rest of the rye loaf which she had only cut two slices from.
“Thank you, thank you so much, benefactor.”
The old beggar removed the coins and climbed from his seat onto all fours, revealing his leglessness from the knees down. Four gerah, that was the daily wage of a normal working man— more than what this old man would ever be able to make in a day for the remainder of his lifetime. These four gerah, along with the loaf of rye would be enough to keep starvation off for a week.
“Your legs, how did you lose it?” the gentle voice asked.
“For treason, benefactors,” the beggar answered honestly. “When I was young, I picked up a sword by the wayside only to discover it carried the seal of the royal family on its pommel. I knew that by returning it to the royal family, I would be able to earn a substantial reward. But being the naive boy that I was, I became enticed by greed and did the foolish thing to try to sell it off to the highest bidder, knowing that there would be those who could care less about the monetary reward and only coveted the chance to get on the royal family’s good side. Instead, I was caught, dealt a hundred lashes, and had my legs sawed off to be made an example of. A true shame. Before I could support my mother and father, I ended up having to be supported for the rest of my life. How cruel this fair world is… While the poor us work to the bone for any amount of change, those with power are willing to throw any amount of fortune aside just for a chance to please those higher up.”
…
…
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Fairy Song 