The town of Winstead bustled about as normal. I watched out my bedroom window the road below. Carriages pulled by horses crowded the streets. They were merchants coming to sell their goods for harvest week. A whole week dedicated to collecting and canning food for winter. It's a celebration of giving thanks to the gods for all the food they have granted us for the survival of winter.
I was never a religious person, and thanking the gods by harvest week has always made no sense to me. Not everyone in this town had money. Not everyone will have enough food for the winter and not everyone will survive it. I never cared for harvest week, and never will.
I could never say such things aloud. The gods temple priests would lock me in a room within the temple and leave me there until the gods tell them to let me out. It's better to just keep such thoughts to myself.
"Aria are you coming with me to the merchant stands? They have a lot set up already." My best friend Cicili asked. She casually entered my room and stood before me. She was all ready to go in a beautiful light pink dress made of the finest silk and satins in all of Sareenia. It brought out her dark blue eyes and blonde, curly hair. Cicili is the most beautifulest woman I have ever met.
"Of course." I say, even though I'd rather not venture out today, but for Cicili I would do anything.
"I'll wait for you while you get ready." Cicili said. I smiled at her as she walked out of my room.
I start to put on a beautiful dark purple cotton dress made by the best tailor in Winstead. I don't have money like Cicili does, and even though she offers to buy me many expensive things, I always refuse. I don't like taking her money. She got her riches from her parents dying in a horrible fire when she was a baby. My parents died in that same fire, but they were poor and had no riches to pass down to me.
Cicili and I were brought together because of that horrific night. We were both taken to the same orphanage and became best friends as soon as we could talk. We are both different in many ways, that, if we hadn't both lost our parents and understood each other in that way, we would have never became friends. Let alone look in each other's direction. Our friendship is something that grew over the years, and became a bond like none other. We both grew accustomed to our differences and over the years we became more and more alike. As soon as we both turned sixteen, we moved out of the orphanage and Cicili bought a house for the both of us to live in. A ginormous house that was way bigger than we needed, but it was enough to show how much wealth Cicili has to her name. The house was the only thing I ever truly accepted her buying for me.
I snap out of my thoughts as I heard a scream coming from outside. I run to my window and peer out just in time to see a carriage fall to its side and the horse pulling it fall over with it. The merchant driving the carriage managed to jump off before the fall, and was now tending the lame horse. It's leg was twisted in a weird angle and obviously broken. The horse would have to be put down.
I turn away from the window and go to my vanity. Death is something I don't wish to be near to or witness. It reminds me of my parents and what could have been, and it also reminds me that without them gone I wouldn't have Cicili with me.
I start to braid my hair into an easy but exquisite braid. I watch myself through my vanity mirror and stare at myself. Cicili has always envied me for my beauty. Since we were kids she claimed that my beauty was a one of a kind. I never believed it, but I also knew I was pretty to some extent. I had long curly red hair with the brightest green eyes. I have yet to meet someone with the same shade eyes as me. My face is sharp. High cheeks and sharp nose and chin sculpted into perfection and Plump pink lips that rarely needs tinting. Cicili May be right about my beauty, but I don't see myself as anything special like she claims me to be. Then again, that's just Cicili being Cicili.
I finish my hair and add a smudge of coal under my eyes to bring them out even more. Then I head to the front door.
"Took you long enough." Cicili says.
"You didn't have to wait." I say.
"Of course not, but then you would have never come with me." Cicili says, smiling because she knows all too well she's right. I smile back at her and open the door.
It hasn't rained in a few days so the roads are dry and dusty. It was better than the thick mud that made the bottom of our dresses dirty and stained.
"It's so nice not having to worry about mud staining and tearing our dresses. It's nice wearing actual nice shoes too instead of the muck boots." Cicili says, shutting the door behind her.
"It's very nice." I say. We make our way through town and into the town square where many merchants were already set up and selling their goods.
The square was very busy. Woman and girls in dresses of all materials roamed the merchants stands. Men and boys in tunics and trousers worked to help set everything up for harvest week by putting up small tents, decorations, and other stands for the events to come. I can't help but feel a little claustrophobic at the people crowding the streets and square. As we enter the crowd, we are shoulder to shoulder with the people around us. Cicili grabs my hand so she doesn't get separated from me, and drags me along with her through the crowd. We go from merchant stand to merchant stand.
Nothing catches my eye until I see a small shiny glint catch my eyes. For once, I'm pulling Cicili somewhere I want to go, and she gladly follows me. I can feel her excitement radiating off of her at my take of the lead. I'm thankful she doesn't say anything about it, or I would have stopped and never gone back.
I get to the merchants stand and look down to see a very beautiful sword. It's hilt is gold with a very intricate design of roses and vines circling around a gap where my hands would hold the sword. The shaft of the sword is made of what looks to be pure silver with gold on the edge of the blade. The sheath sat next to it. It is silver with a design of vines traveling around it.
"It's beautiful.." I say aloud to myself. I can't keep my eyes off if it. I feel as if this sword was created for me.
"Pretty, yes, but it's a sword, Aria." Cicili says.
"Yes it's a sword." I say, unable to keep my eyes off of it. "Excuse me, sir, how much for this sword."
I feel Cicili's gaze on the back of my head in shock. I can understand why. I don't like death, and to own a weapon of just that would be un ordinary for me. It also will make Cicili uncomfortable since she also has a fear of death and loathes anything that resembles it, but I can't help but want, no, need this sword in my hands and at my side.
"For you, two hundred shillings." The merchant says. I finally break my eyes from the sword and look the merchant in the eyes.
"One hundred." I say.
The merchant shakes his head and says, "This is no ordinary sword. It was crafted by hand by the wood elves. There is none other like this. I dropped the price of it down just for you, but not it's worth. It's worth more than you could imagine. So much so that it's priceless. No price could truly pay for how rare this masterpiece is."
"Then why drop the price of it down for me? Why not keep it?" I ask.
"These are hard times. I have held onto this sword for many many years, but Sareenia isn't what it used to be. So, I made the hard decision to sell it." The merchant said.
"What do you mean that Sareenia isn't what it used to be? It seems fine to me."
"It's fine indeed here in this bubble of yours. Winstead is safe... for now, but outside this village it's not safe. Word has spread that villages are being killed off. Whole. Villages. Men, woman, and children. No one spared."
"How do you know this is true?"
"Some young man is spreading news that villagers are being murdered in their sleep by the one he calls the Gold King. He is also spreading news that this Gold King spared his life but in return spread the news of his rising. The Gold King is coming, and with him comes death. Nobody knows if it's true or not, but travelers and merchants, as myself, are passing through villages and confirming the deaths more and more each day. I have not come across any, and I pray to the gods I don't, but a good friend of mine has. I trust his word with my life."
"That's horrible." I say. "But I can only do one hundred shillings."
"I'm sorry but I can't go any lower than two hundred." The merchant says.
Cicili taps my shoulder. I know what she's going to say before she even says it. I look at her and shake my head.
"Well, I guess I'll be going my way. Good luck, and stay safe." I say, walking away back into the crowd.
"You know I would have bought that for you." Cicili says.
"I know, but I don't want your money. I only need your friendship." I smile. Cicili laughs.
"You seemed like you really wanted it. I have never seen you want something like that before." Cicili says.
"I wanted it, but I don't need it. I just liked the design on it. I don't need anything like that anyways." I lied. For my first time ever, I lied to Cicili. I felt horrible about it, but I couldn't being myself to tell her about the weird feelings I felt for the sword. The way I felt a pull towards it, even now. I also couldn't let her know the truth because even though I said no, Cicili will go back for it. She would put her fears on death and weapons behind her just to know I'm happy. I don't want her ignoring her feelings just because I feel drawn to a sword.
For the rest of the afternoon we walked the square and through the crowd. We stopped at every single merchant, but I didn't see anything I wanted. If only I had one hundred more shillings, I would have bought the sword. Perhaps if the merchant still had it, later this week I could offer to work some odd jobs and buy it then. Tomorrow I will have to do just that. That pull is starting to feel stronger.