Omen: 1, 7

Adam groaned, feeling the heat over his body, even within the Guild. ‘Damn it! I should have complained more! Can’t I be a Karen if it’s about racism?’ He lay his head on the table, groaning quietly.

Jaygak, who was ready to go and quest, stared at Adam with a wide smirk on her face. “What great weather we’re having today.”

Adam didn’t bring up his head to look up at her, allowing her to have her fun this day. The heat had gotten to his mind, and he wasn’t quite as witty as he should have been.

“Adam, will you come with me to walk around the market?” Vonda asked.

“Sure,” Adam replied.

The pair walked through the roads of Red Oak, with Adam’s eyes scanning across the townscape. There were so many people moving around, from the various workers, to the carriages which held the crest of a noble.

Adam scowled towards the carriage from behind his scarf, which he used to cover the lower half of his face this time too.

The merchants threw curious looks at the pair, but seeing Vonda’s amulet, which revealed she was a Priest of Mother Soza, they seemed far less suspicious of the two.

“What are you looking for today?” Adam asked.

“I do not know,” Vonda admitted. “There are times we should walk through a market and see what catches our eyes.”

“Window shopping,” Adam said, glancing around the market. There was nothing which caught his eyes, so he remained near Vonda, accompanying her as she walked through, checking out the stalls.

Vonda eventually found a stall full of books, each about the size of her hand, with two thin blocks of wood used as covers, bound by fibres pulled apart from rope.

‘I do need a book,’ Adam thought.

Vonda picked up a book, feeling the paper with her finger. “Do you have something that’s used for painting?”

“Got plenty of books for painting, miss,” the merchant replied, flashing a wide smile, revealing a silver tooth. He pulled out several books, each which were larger than the books on display, bound in leather.

Vonda touched the paper, which was at least twice as thick as the previous paper. “I’d like to buy five books, three wood, two leather.”

“Two gold for wood, ten gold for leather, miss.”

Adam almost whistled. When he was in the Iyr, books were no more than a silver, and that’s if he had to pay for once. “Do you have a book with more pages?”

“Aye, I do, young mister.” The merchant brought out a book which was bound in leather, but easily held at least three hundreds sheets within.

“How much?”

“Five gold.”

Adam bowed his head. “Can I pay with a gem?”

“Of course you can!” The merchant grinned wide, revealing his silver tooth.

“Then I’ll take two.” Adam placed down an obsidian gem to pay for the books. ‘Next time I’m bringing five books with me from the Iyr.’

Vonda smiled as Adam bought his set of books. They continued to travel through the market. Adam bought a stylus, and a long thin gem which could be used to make markings.

“Ten gold,” Adam whispered to himself. “Expensive!”

Vonda continued to smile as Adam fell deeper into despair with how much money he was spending, glad that it had taken his mind away from other matters.

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“Ah,” Adam said, staring at a mule, which was carrying a traveller’s things. “Vonda, I need to get a saddlebag for Zeus.”

Vonda bowed her head, and they went to get Zeus, Adam’s magical giant elk, which they took to a saddle maker.

“A packsaddle and some saddlebags?” the old man said, eyeing up the giant elk. “She’s a beauty.”

“He.”

The saddle maker tilted his head, looking down towards Zeus’ crotch. Adam did the same.

“Oh,” Adam said.

“It’s not a he or a she,” the old man said, surprised.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Adam said. “Zeus, what’s that all about?”

‘You did not declare your request when you summoned me.’

‘Are you blaming me?’

‘No.’

‘Can you be a boy?’

‘Yes.’

‘And a girl?’

‘Yes.’

Adam sighed. “Magic, am I right?”

“He, she, it a magical steed?”

“Yep.”

“Ah! You’re one of those? From an Order.”

“Our magics are similar, but I’m not really anything like that.”

“You used your magics on me?” The old man narrowed his eyes.

“In front of a Priest of Mother Soza? What am I, stupid?”

The old man looked to Vonda, her amulet, and then he nodded. “Aye, you would be rather stupid to be casting spells in front of a Priest of the good Mother. Unless that’s what you want me to think.”

“Just tell me how much it’ll cost, please,” Adam said.

“Ten gold and I’ll sort you out with a pack saddle and some saddlebags.”

“Will a gem do?”

“If it’s worth ten gold.”

Adam raised his brows for a moment, before handing the gem over.

“Aye, it’ll do, sonny boy.”

“How long?”

The man looked at the elk. “Let me see what I’ve got.”

Moments later, Zeus was fitted with the thick leathers which formed the saddlebags and his pack saddle.

“I should get a cart,” Adam said. “It’d be fun.”

Vonda continued to smile, watching as Adam fell into thought.

“No, no, it’s too much work.” Adam pat Zeus’ back. “What do you think, ol’ boy? You like your new pack and bags?”

‘Yes.’

Adam nodded his head, chuffed to bits. “You let me know if you want me to upgrade them when I’m swimming in gold, alright?”

‘Okay.’

Adam walked ahead of the giant elk, making sure people stayed away from it. Most people gave them a wide berth, afraid of the heavily armour pair and the giant elk which roamed their town.

Adam spotted a food stall nearby, dropping down a silver for some food, bringing it over to Vonda. “Skewered meat and vegetables, good Lady?” Adam asked.

Vonda accepted the skewers, while Adam fed one to Zeus, though the magical steed did not require any food to live. Sir Vonda used Zeus to hide away from everyone else, pulling down her scarf to eat.

The meat was chewy, and the char was the only flavour it offered. Adam cast his Tricks trick to flavour it, and offered the same to Vonda, who nodded, and he flavoured her skewer too.

“What is this flavour?” Vonda asked, swallowing the meat.

“Chicken tikka masala, a national dish,” Adam said.

“The Greylands?”

“Aye,” Adam said, smiling. “The Greylands. Well, others would say somewhere else, but technically… nevermind.”

Vonda tilted her head, but she ate the skewered meat quietly. “It is a lovely flavour.”

“Yeah. You’re lucky I didn’t make it taste like the other national dish.”

“What is that?”

“Fish and chips.”

Vonda understood what fish was, but she wasn’t sure what a chip was. “Do you like fish and chips.”

“Of course,” Adam replied. “I’m Bri-, uh, Greyish. Now, some people might tell you that they’re called fries, but that’s propaganda made by our worst enemies, well, not our worst enemies, but they were our worst enemies for about a thousand years. We still call them our worst enemies, though.”

“Who are they?”

Adam shook his head. “We don’t talk about them.”

Vonda raised her brows, wondering how much Adam must have hated them for him to not even mention their name. ‘Is that why you wish to create a small army?’

Adam bit into his skewer. “Some people might say that they’re called fries, but they’re chips, and chips should be fat and thick, about as thick as a finger, and about half as long. Then there’s crisps, and you shouldn’t call them chips, that’s some propaganda made by people who can’t spell colour correctly.”

Vonda watched as Adam grew more aggravated with each spoken word.

“Honestly, it’s utterly despicable. What next? Spelling Greylands with the wrong vowel? Could you imagine?” Adam asked, looking to Vonda, raising his brows.

“No,” Vonda replied, earnestly.

“Vonda?”

“Yes.”

“You were meant to stop me whenever I did anything stupid or cringe,” Adam said, suddenly feeling his cheeks flush. ‘She doesn’t even get the joke. I probably look unhinged to her.’

Vonda stared up at him. “Was what you were saying stupid or cringe?”

“Yes.”

Vonda pat his back. “Stop it, Adam.”

“Okay.”

“So are they actually called chips or fries?”

“No, no, I was right about that, it was just stupid and cringe to bring it up in front of you when you have no idea what I’m joking about.”

“What are you joking about?”

“Essentially, we made the language, and then other people use it wrong.”

“Language can be used incorrectly?”

“You wouldn’t call a dog a cat, would you?”

“No? Though does that matter?”

“Doesn’t it?”

“As long as you understand what I am talking about when I use the word cat, then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Then what if you use the wrong words for your prayers?”

“Mother Soza still responds.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “Then, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Vonda bowed her head.

It was only then Adam realised he was on a date with Sir Vonda. He coughed into elbow, looking away from her.

‘God damn it! Why am I so cringe? Kill me, Baktu! Just kill me now! That’s it! I’m never joking again!’