THE EMPIRE: CAPITAL CITY
MARKET AREA
The market was alive with noise, colour, and the chaotic energy that only a bustling mediaeval market could offer.
Merchants shouted over one another, hawking everything from fragrant spices to shiny trinkets. My mom, however, was laser-focused on her mission, haggling over the price of a pan.
"Thirty coppers, no more, no less. If you want the pan, you've got to pay that much, ma'am," the vendor said, clearly annoyed.
"Humph!" my mom huffed, crossing her arms. "Last week, the vendor in this very spot sold me the same pan for 20 coppers! If I'd known my pan would break so soon, I'd have bought it then! Now, I'm forced to pay 10 more coppers!"
"If you're so sure someone else has a better deal, why not go to them?" the vendor shot back, folding his arms like he was ready to declare war.
While my mom was deep in her battle of wits, I let my gaze wander.
The market was a spectacle all on its own. Everywhere I looked, there were stalls overflowing with goods, brightly coloured fabrics, glittering jewellery, and the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread.
Artisans were hard at work, hammering metal into weapons, carving intricate designs into wood, and weaving baskets with practised ease.
The people were just as interesting as the wares. Locals bustled from stall to stall, bartering for deals, while foreigners stood out in their exotic clothing, chatting with merchants and passing along bits of gossip.
The market wasn't just about buying and selling. It was the heart of the city's social life, a place where information flowed as freely as the goods.
"Okay, ma'am, my final offer: 25 coppers. Take it or leave it," the vendor finally conceded, clearly worn down.
"Deal." My mom handed over the coins with the satisfaction of someone who'd just conquered a small kingdom.
As we turned to leave, I couldn't help but reflect on how our lives had improved recently.
Dad's promotion from apprentice to full-fledged blacksmith had brought us better clothes, sturdier household items, and, most importantly, better food. It was a far cry from the patched-up pots and barely-there meals of our earlier days.
"Let's go home, Leo," my mom said cheerfully, clutching her prize like it was the Holy Grail.
"Yeah, Mom," I replied, falling into step beside her.
The walk home was as eventful as the market itself. The streets were filled with people wearing everything from simple wool tunics to finely embroidered cloaks.
You could tell a lot about someone's job just by their clothes. Merchants wore sharp, tailored outfits meant to impress buyers, while labourers stuck to sturdy, practical attire.
Then there were the imperial guards. They patrolled in pairs, their uniforms a clear symbol of their authority.
They carried swords and spears, moving with a confidence that screamed, don't mess with us.
Mom had once told me about the general of the imperial army, a man named Budo. According to her, he could summon thunder from the heavens and smite his enemies with a single blow.
Yeah, right. She liked to mess with me sometimes, thinking I was too little to catch on.
She also loved telling me bedtime stories about heroes fighting "danger beasts." I'm pretty sure those were just mediaeval versions of dragons or trolls, but hey, I wasn't about to call her out.
A loud voice cut through the noise of the streets.
"Clear the way for Nobleman Honest's carriage!"
I turned toward the commotion, just in time to see an imperial guard on horseback clearing a path for an elaborate carriage.
And when I say elaborate, I mean elaborate. It was the kind of thing you'd expect to see in a fairy tale, polished wood, gilded trim, and horses decked out in embroidered harnesses.
The word that came to mind was extravagant.
Soldiers on horseback flanked the carriage, their armour glinting in the sunlight. As it passed, I caught a glimpse of the man inside.
He was a middle-aged, heavyset noble, shovelling a chunk of meat into his mouth with all the grace of a starving bear.
For a brief moment, our eyes met. His were a deep, unsettling yellow.
I froze. My chest tightened, and a chill ran down my spine. My hand instinctively clenched tighter around Mom's.
"Why are you sweating, honey?" she asked, looking down at me in concern.
"I… I'm just hungry," I lied, trying to shake off the feeling.
But I couldn't stop thinking about those eyes. They weren't just unsettling, they were wrong.
Dark, sinister, almost inhuman. Ordinary people would probably write him off as just another arrogant noble, but my gut told me otherwise. Something about him felt… dangerous.
We kept walking, and I tried to push the encounter from my mind.
A cheerful voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Hello, beautiful miss and young friend! Would you like to see my pendants?"
We turned to see a street vendor with a wide smile and a table full of colourful pendants.
"Can I touch them?" Mom asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Of course! Take your time. Each pendant has its own story to tell, waiting for someone like you to discover it."
As Mom browsed, my eyes landed on one pendant in particular. It was green, simple yet elegant, with a small hidden compartment cleverly built into its design.
"How much for this one?" I asked, pointing at it.
"Ten coppers," the vendor replied.
"Three," I shot back without missing a beat.
The vendor chuckled. "Eight."
"Let's go, Mom. He's clearly not serious," I said, turning as if to walk away.
"Six coppers," the vendor called after me. "Final offer!"
"Deal." I handed over the coins, grinning as I pocketed the pendant.
"Tch, you're a sharp one, young man," the vendor muttered.
"You too, old man," I replied. "I learned from the best."
I glanced at Mom, who was watching the exchange with an amused smile. Her expression made it clear she was holding back a laugh.
"My son is all grown up now, making his first purchase with his own money!" she teased, pretending to wipe away tears.
"Let's go home, Mom!" I blurted, quickening my pace to escape the embarrassment.
As we made our way back, I clutched the pendant tightly, feeling oddly proud. Sure, it was just a small trinket, but it felt like a little piece of independence.
Snow started to fall as we turned the corner toward home. Despite the chill in the air, everything felt warm and safe.
For all the chaos of the market and the unsettling moment with the nobleman, I couldn't help but smile. Life might not be perfect, but it was mine, and that was enough.