The market of East Port was not like any other market. Yes, there was Market Road, something not unique to East Port, but the market was larger, more expansive, and full of colour. While other markets focused on a variety of ways to focus on themselves, very few did so with the aesthetic eye of East Port, the City of a Thousand Colours.

Adam, wore a scarf around his head, though it was not needed. The scarf was yellow, though the the East Portians would have certainly called it something else. He had left his puthral armour behind, though carried his axe at his side, causing some eyes to fall across him. If it wasn’t for Sir Vonda, he would have surely gotten into trouble already.

Vonda brushed her fingers along the fabric, feeling how smooth it was to the touch. Adam, who had brought so many pieces of cloth previously. However, he realised he would need so much more cloth, and he also needed assistance to recall the exact colours which he had brought previously.

“This feeling is right,” Vonda said, nodding her head finally. “How much for each cloth?”

“Each roll, nine gold,” the devilkin merchant replied. He wore loose fabric over his body, an orange which no doubt brought the fruit such envy. He wore a turban atop his head, and his eyes were lined with black, emphasising the deep red of his pupils, while his thick beard had been dyed so it appeared orange, though the black could be seen from the streaks following his moustache.

“How many rolls would you like to buy?” Vonda asked.

Adam thought for a long moment. “Vonda, do you recall how the colours were going to be distributed?”

Vonda closed her eyes, trying to recall the conversations she had with Jaygak about the colours after she had tricked him. “Red for the guards, the greyish blue for the workers, the brighter blue for higher ranking individuals, red for the trim, and black…”

“Right, black was for the elite squad, probably,” Adam replied, vaguely recalling his thoughts from back then. “Then let’s go with… five each? No, let’s make it five each for the red and blue, but let’s get ten for the blueish grey.”

“Greyish blue,” Vonda corrected.

“If you’re going to correct me, at least tell me the name of the colour,” Adam joked. “Alright, we’ll order the twenty rolls total.” Adam glanced around and noted the urchins around. “I need five walkers.”

The walkers swarmed around him, though Adam picked five of them at random, before passing along copper coins to those he didn’t pick. The walkers who he had picked each readied their wooden packs, accepting four rolls in each pack, before they made their way through the market to check out more wares.

Adam ordered food from some of the nearby stalls, spending the coppers for the walkers too, allowing them a break.

“Ooh! Aah!” Adam gasped, having not realised the food he had ordered was so full of fiery spice.

Vonda smiled, nibbling on her stick of meat, with flecks of red and green within them, denoting how hot they were going to be. Thankfully Adam didn’t order the meat with the purple flecks, which even cause devilkin trouble.

The devilkin merchants had brought so much with them to East Port, not just the wares they brought from foreign lands across the seas. Adam noted the different cuisines on offer within the market stalls, from simple potatoes and local fish, to exotic meats and fruits. He continued to silently eat away at his food, doing his best to push through the spice. Had it been spicier, surely he would have had to roll to see if he could handle it.

“Since we’re getting some cloth…”

The devilkin merchant had skin of the deepest red, and wore a turban which was the most yellow of yellows. He wore a scale cuirass which covered his body, and carried the hilt of a scimitar at his side, the blade lost to the winds.

“Yellow Turban,” Adam called, and the devilkin pretended to notice him at that moment, his eyes going wide, his pearly white teeth flashing into the most charming smile.

“Noor blesses me for it is mister Adam, with handsome face, who grace my stall!” Yellow Turban held out his hands to emphasise his point. “The most dear Sir Vonda, always good to see you.”

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“It’s good to see you as well, Yellow Turban,” Vonda replied, bowing her head.

“Son of cat! Wake up, you foolish boy, always sleeping!”

A boy, no older than eight, sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked up at his father with the most indignant look Adam had ever seen, before he spat out a response in their tongue.

“What are you doing still sleeping when Sir Vonda is here?”

The boy hopped onto his feet, splashing some water from a nearby basin onto his face, before he slicked back his hair, which fell to his shoulders. He straightened his clothing, which was a creamy yellow.

“Hoi hoi hoi,” the boy said, sauntering up to the priest. “Sir Vonda only need to pay me nine copper but she pays a silver. So beautiful, so generous.” He clasped his hands together, before pulling his collar up, waiting expectantly.

Vonda smiled, before Yellow Turban’s hand blurred towards his son’s ear, pulling him back, though he tugged gently.

“Son of cat! You will take silver from Sir Vonda? I buy you cat tonight and will not even roast.”

“Not even roast?” Kalid asked, his eyes wide with shock. “How can this be?”

“Bastara, go, bring a roll of Salifi gold, or I not cut fur before you bite!”

Kalid fixed his collar before darting behind the stall, which was larger than almost any other stall within sight, the highest concentrate of yellow within the entire city, no doubt. Who would dare to sell such grand yellows while Yellow Turban could spot the city?

“I see business is doing well,” Adam said, noting the large number of devilkin who wandered around this area. He spotted the guards trekking through the market, but none stepped through the nearby area.

“Some days hundred gold, some days thousand, Noor blesses me.” Yellow Turban’s head swayed to an unknown beat as he spoke. “You have come again for the tournament? The Duchess will sponsor, yes?”

“Not this year, I think,” Adam admitted. “On a different kind of business this year.”

“Magical weapons?”

“That, and some personal business. Speaking of personal business, I recently had another son, so I’d love to buy a roll for some clothes for him.”

“Another son? This son, so handsome, I will find best yellow roll, no problem,” Yellow Turban said, his eyes full of playfulness. “He look like father or mother?” He asked, glancing between Adam and Vonda.

Adam’s cheeks flushed as the heat spread through him. “Of course he looks like me, though he’s a little…” Adam thought for a long moment. “Red.”

“Red?” Yellow Turban asked. “He looks like his mother, Jaygak?”

Adam blinked, shaking his head furiously, before finally gathering the ability to speak. “Jaygak is not his mother! I would never! I’m already an idiot, my children’s mother can’t be as stupid as me!”

Yellow Turban’s lips formed a smirk. “He is red, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You know of the red?”

“It must be cute red or adorable red, since he’s my son,” Adam replied, simply.

Vonda squinted slightly so as to not roll them. “He is as red as fresh blood.”

“If he Iyrman, it can only be so,” Yellow Turban replied, slowly nodding his head. “There is yellow I know. Kalid! Son of cat! You are taking so long! Bring one yellow solar!”

Adam spotted a couple of devilkin, adorned in scale, wearing yellow sashes around their waist, and carrying scimitars at their side. “Is everything alright?”

“This Yellow Turban cannot complain,” the merchant replied, flashing a wide smile.

“Alright…” Adam decided against prying further since it was Yellow Turban business.

“Your brother is to fight in tournament?”

“Not this year.”

“Your brother, any children?”

“Not yet,” Adam replied with a small smile. “I believe he’s working on that.”

“I pray for him.”

“I will too.”

Kalid returned holding two rolls, one of a beautiful shimmering gold, and another of a yellow which was yellow, but not quite the yellow Adam expected. It was a moderate yellow, not as vibrant as the yellows around, or as pale as some of the yellows Yellow Turban kept mostly out of sight.

“It’s a nice yellow,” Adam said.

“Son of cat! I said yellow solar, not solar yellow!” Yellow Turban whipped a cloth just above his son’s head, though the boy dodged needlessly, taking the cloth with him. He returned but seconds later with the right roll as though it had been stashed aside, the cloth slightly more vibrant than the previous.

‘There are too many colours in this world,’ Adam thought.

“Take the rolls as gifts,” Yellow Turban said, offering the roll of Salifi gold from his arms to Vonda.

“How can we accept when we came empty handed?” Adam asked. “I would have brought some magical items, but the business is so busy.”

“No need to say,” Yellow Turban said. “When your business is open, there is no need to be strangers, yes?”

“Of course,” Adam replied. “After all, we’re no strangers, especially after how much gold you made from us.”

Yellow Turban smirked wide. “Let us see if this meeting brings such gold, yes?”

Adam chuckled. “Let’s hope. Well, thank you for the gift. Any chance I could ask for Kalid’s company?”

Yellow Turban let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “He cannot, this son of cat, for he is to be learning this day.”

“You see, mister Adam? I am only slave for my father.”

Yellow Turban almost slapped the boy’s head, grabbing it seemingly roughly, though the pair moved with practised violence, doing little to actually hurt the boy. Yellow Turban held Kalid’s head seemingly tightly. “It is your business to be slave for your father, son of cat!”

“Ah, what a shame,” Adam replied, glancing around at the devilkin nearby, including a guard dressed all in yellow, covering all but their eyes, staring directly at the stall from nearby. “Thank you for the kind gifts, Yellow Turban.”

“Many gratulations to you and your son, mister Adam,” Yellow Turban replied with a knowing look, a small smirk across his face, one that said they were more than able to take care of their business.