The smell of fresh morning dew lingered in the air as I trudged along the familiar path to Greenhill. After yesterday's humiliating attempt at selling my wares, I couldn't shake off the frustration. I'd walked into that market like some wide-eyed fool, thinking I'd make a fortune selling a sack of herbs and a handful of trinkets. I felt the laughter of the merchants echoing in my head, mocking my every step. Today would be different, though. Or so I kept telling myself.
The village of Greenhill was bustling as usual, with vendors calling out prices, buyers haggling for the best deal, and the general clamor of a busy marketplace filling the air. Colorful stalls lined the road, each one with its unique scent—spices, fresh bread, flowers, leather, and something slightly unpleasant that wafted from the fishmonger's stall. My senses were assaulted, and for a moment, I felt the sharp sting of nerves in my gut. The anticipation made me clench my fists, a reflex I wasn't even aware of. This was my battleground today, but instead of blades and armor, I had to rely on wits, patience, and some serious luck.
Taking a deep breath, I approached the first stall I recognized from the previous day. It belonged to a short, burly man with a permanently furrowed brow and a smirk that revealed yellowed teeth. He recognized me instantly, his grin widening with a glint of amusement.
"Back for more, are ya?" he chuckled, eyeing the bag slung over my shoulder. "Ready to donate some more of that fine merchandise of yours?"
I ignored his jibe and unloaded my sack onto the table in front of him, making a point of straightening my back and setting my jaw. Today, I wasn't here to be humiliated.
"I'm here to make a fair trade," I said, keeping my voice steady. "These herbs are rare in this region, so let's make a deal that benefits both of us."
The merchant raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my tone, but he quickly regained his composure. He leaned in, examining the herbs with a calculating gaze, then shot me an offer that was, once again, insultingly low. I almost accepted out of reflex, but I held my ground, determined to get more. We went back and forth, and while I managed to nudge him up a little, I knew he was still fleecing me.
After a few minutes of back-and-forth that left me feeling like I'd been spun around in circles, I settled on a price that wasn't what I wanted but wasn't entirely terrible either. My frustration simmered, but I forced myself to stay calm. This was only the beginning.
I moved on to the next stall, mentally prepping myself for round two. This merchant, a tall, thin woman with sharp eyes and a knack for sniffing out desperation, seemed just as eager to lowball me as the first. She looked over my goods with a critical gaze, her lips curling slightly as she examined each item. My attempts at negotiation fell flat; I could see her amusement every time I tried to raise the price. I didn't want to admit it, but I was in way over my head.
Just as I was about to give in again, a voice called out from behind.
"You there! With the sack of herbs!"
Turning around, I saw an older man standing nearby, a glimmer of kindness in his eyes that I hadn't seen in the others. He wore simple clothes, but his stance radiated a quiet confidence. Without waiting for my response, he gestured for me to come over.
"New to the market, are you?" he asked, his voice carrying a trace of amusement but without the mocking tone I'd grown accustomed to.
I nodded, too exhausted to pretend otherwise. "I can't seem to get a fair price for anything."
The man chuckled, patting a small pouch at his side. "This place is a battlefield, lad, and you're walking in unarmed. Let me give you some advice." He glanced at the other merchants who were eyeing us with a mix of suspicion and mild annoyance. "In a market like this, patience is your best friend, and scarcity is your weapon. Don't be too eager to sell; let them think you're willing to walk away."
I absorbed his words, realizing that my desperation had probably been evident from the moment I stepped foot in Greenhill. "Thank you," I said, meaning it. "I'll give it another shot."
The old man nodded approvingly and waved me off. "Remember, don't show your hand too soon. And keep your prices high—they'll come around."
Emboldened, I approached another stall, my heart pounding as I repeated the old man's advice in my head like a mantra. This merchant was younger, probably new to the game himself, and he seemed eager to add some fresh herbs to his inventory. He made a decent offer, but I forced myself to keep a straight face, shook my head, and turned to leave.
"Wait, wait!" he called out, raising his offer slightly.
It wasn't a massive increase, but it was progress. I nodded, accepting the new price, and watched as he handed over a small pouch of coins. They weren't much, but they were more than I'd expected to walk away with. My heart thumped with a mix of relief and excitement. This was my first real victory, small as it might have been, but it felt like I'd taken a step in the right direction.
By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, I'd made a few more sales, each one a little better than the last. I didn't leave Greenhill with a heavy coin pouch, but I wasn't empty-handed, either. I felt a strange sense of accomplishment, as though I'd faced down an enemy and walked away with my pride intact.
On the journey back to Briarstead, I replayed the events of the day in my mind, analyzing every mistake, every win, and every moment of hesitation. Trading wasn't a physical fight, but it required just as much strategy and grit. In its own way, it was a battlefield, and one I'd have to learn to conquer if I wanted to survive in this world.
As Briarstead's familiar thatched roofs came into view, I couldn't help but feel a faint flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this life just yet, but I'd made progress. I knew that the path ahead was still uncertain, filled with more battles in both the market and, no doubt, on the field. But today had proven that I could adapt, that I could change and grow. It was a small victory, but for now, that was enough.