Starla crossed her arms as she examined the daggers before her. “This one is of especially luxurious quality, My Lady,” the shopkeeper offered, pointing to a tiny dagger with a huge ruby in the hilt. She frowned.

“I’d rather something more… functional,” she said. She needed something she could actually fight with. She examined the daggers again. “How about that one,” she said pointing to a dagger with a simple silver hilt and floral engravings. The blade was no more than four inches long. It was thin though, more of a needle rather than a blade.

“This one is not good for combat,” the shopkeeper said. “It’s designed for stabbing.” Starla wanted something that would be good in an emergency, in case her magic was unavailable. Something that could parry and hold its own against even a short sword. Not that she could wield a dagger that well, actual weapons were Khastri’s thing.

“If you want something for combat,” the shopkeeper continued, “I would recommend that one.” He pulled the dagger he was referring to out of the glass case where the rest were and laid it on the counter before Starla.

It had a hilt that looked to be made of silver at first glance, but shined in a pearly mixture of blue, white, and lavender. The blade was shiny steel and double edged. Like the other dagger, it was about four inches in length, though much thicker in width. A good weapon. Starla nodded.

“How much for that one?” she asked.

“75 coin,” the shopkeeper said. Starla reached into her belt pouch and got a Hundred. The shopkeeper gave her a Twenty and a Five back. She sheathed the dagger and left the shop. Outside, the sun was high in the sky. ‘I can probably hit one or two more shops before heading home.’

She was in one of the most exclusive shopping districts in Valient, Aurum’s capital city. It was known as the Gold Block, and only the nobles and the richest merchants shopped here. She didn’t usually spend a lot of money, but she needed a good shopping day.

So far, she had bought a fancy shawl beaded with pearls and opals, a history book, a book about the Fay kingdom, and a relatively simple silk dress imported from the Elven kingdom. Elven politics might suck, but they had great fashion senses. “All right, where next?” she rubbed her hands together, and recalled hearing about a new jewelry shop all the noble ladies were fawning over. “Some new earrings might be nice,” she said, and started in the direction of the shop, stopping every now and then to tip a particularly good musician or street performer.

…

“LAND HO!” Came the call. Viren raised an eyebrow at Thorn. Thorn shrugged.

“WILL YOU STOP SHOUTING THAT EVERYTIME WE REACH A SETTLEMENT,” another voice shouted. Viren shook his head. ‘Merchants.’

After the attack they hurried out of the dangerous territory. Once they were safe, they slowed their pace a little, but not too much. A couple of days had passed, and now the caravan was in sight of Nuem, a craft city. Viren was hoping to buy a new sword.

As of now they were about a mile away. Nuem, much like Edgedale, was surrounded by grassland. However, unlike Edgedale, there was nothing except grassland as far as the eye could see. No farms, forests, nothing. Nuem was a major import-export city, so they exported crafted goods and imported necessities and raw materials.

That evening they set up camp right outside the city walls. In the morning some merchants would head into the city, but most would buy and sell right out of their trailers.

After Viren got his dinner, he found Nevron. Nevron looked up from whatever he was doing with those papers (probably taxes or some other merchanty thing,) and greeted Viren.

“Hi!” he said. “Are you excited for tomorrow?” Viren settled down next to him.

“If by that you mean looking intimidating and glaring at potential thieves, then no,” he said.

“Please,” Nevron responded, “you’re not going to be working all day. You’ll get evenings off, and I’ll show you around the city.”

“Really? Then maybe you can show me a good smithy. I need a new sword.” Viren gestured to the old, blunt sword sheathed at his waist to emphasize his statement.

“I know a couple good smithies,” Nevron said. “But I also know some really good weapon shops. There’s more variety when a shopkeeper buys from multiple smithies.”

“Yeah, but it’s cheaper to get it from the source,” Viren pointed out. Nevron sighed.

“You’re the only person I know who might possible be cheaper than a merchant.”

…

The next morning, Viren woke up with the sun as usual. The only difference was that, today, every merchant in the caravan was either waking up with the sun as well, or already awake. The smell of breakfast was already working its way through the camp.

As Viren walked toward breakfast, the camp was in such a hustle. Everywhere he looked people were rushing around, raising stalls, carrying merchandise, or murmuring about prices. It was ten times more chaotic than leaving Edgedale, and yet very organized.

There was no line for breakfast as usual. Everyone had either already eaten or chosen to skip breakfast. As the sun fully rose the camp was transformed into a mini market. When the city gates opened for the day, people rushed out of the city to begin shopping.

Valor strolled up to Viren. “Alright, here’s a really quick rundown of what we do on days like this. For the most part we patrol the ‘market’ for any trouble. If a merchant calls on you it’s because there’s a particularly rude customer, so usually it’s enough to just stand there and look scary. Got it?”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Viren nodded. “Yup,” he said. Valor clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he said in parting, and left. Viren stood observing for a second and started patrolling the ‘market’ as well.

…

Viren caught the young shoplifter by the neck of his shirt. The boy squeaked and dropped the chocolates he had stolen, and a servant ran up to return them to the stall they were stolen from.

“If you aren’t going to pay, you might as well leave the market,” Viren scolded. The kid nodded dejectedly. An older man came running up.

“Where have you been?!” he exclaimed. Then he noticed Viren. “Not again,” he sighed. He took the kid by the hand and shook his head. “Sorry, sir. It wont happen again.” The kid pouted.

…

Yelling could be heard from one of the tents. Viren ran over to investigate. Inside the tent, a man with huge muscles and a thin mustache was threatening the portly merchant (the one who got in the argument over the rascal dog).

“I assure you, my good sir, that these prices are certainly fair,” the merchant was saying. The man with the mustache stepped forward.

“THOSE PRICES ARE RIDICULOUS!” he bellowed. The portly merchant gulped. Viren stepped forward.

“Sir,” he said loudly. The merchant sighed in relief. “That is enough.” The man growled.

“This entire ‘merchant caravan’ is one big scam,” he said in a quieter voice. His fists clenched. Viren laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. The mustached man took the hint. He paused for a second, then stalked out of the tent, mumbling under his breath.

“Whew,” the merchant said in relief. Viren nodded and silently slipped out after the man. He would follow him out of the market to make sure he didn’t make any more trouble.

…

A young girl sat in the middle of the market wailing loudly. “Hey,” Viren said softly, “Are you ok?” She didn’t seem to take any notice of him and continued wailing. ‘I am so out of my league right now.’ He desperately tried to think of what to do.

“I’ll give you chocolate if you stop crying,” he finally said. The girl sniffled.

“No,” she said in a very small voice. “Chocolate is yucky and I hate it.” Someone passing by at this moment gasped loudly.

“Why are you crying?” Viren asked. The girl sniffled again and burst into tears.

“Mammmmmmmm,” she wailed.

“Don’t cry, please. I’ll help you find your mom,” Viren said quickly. The brave little girl hiccupped and rubbed her eyes. Viren took her hand and helped her to stand. “What does your mom look like?” he asked.

“She has very long hair and is very tall and is a princess.” Viren stared down at the little girl for a second. ‘I don’t think I can trust that description,’ he thought.

“Do you know your mom’s name?” The girl nodded.

“Mam’s name is Mam,” she said confidently. Viren thought for a moment. ‘Surely the mom will notice her kid is missing, right?’

“Ok,” he said. “We’re going to wait right here for your mom to come.”

A few minutes later a lady of average height and hair of average length burst through the crowds. “Marila!” she cried, almost in tears.

“MAMMMM!!!” the girl screamed happily and ran to hug her mother. The embraced and both burst into tears.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the lady blubbered through tears. “Oh, thank goodness, I was so worried.”

…

The afternoon sun was high in the sky and Viren was exhausted. The other guards looked tired as well, but as much so as Viren. They were gathered to share reports and warn the others about suspicious people to watch out for. They had just finished and were about to head back to work.

“Tired?” Darmer asked Viren with a grin. Viren raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing (he was too exhausted to waste unnecessary words). Darmer laughed and slapped Viren’s shoulder. Thorn shook his head at Darmer’s antics.

“Don’t worry,” Valor said with a small smile. “This part of the job will get easier the more often you do it.” Viren groaned at the thought of more days like today. Valor clapped his hands together.

“Alright! Back to work, guys,” he said.

Darmer gave a mock salute. “Sir yes sir.”

…

Finally, evening came, and the market was closed for the day. Viren flopped on his back by the fire and sighed quietly.

“Ready to go?” Nevron asked suddenly. Viren lifted his head.

“Where did you come from?” Nevron ignored the question and nudged Viren with his toe.

“Come on. If you really want to find a good sword we should start now.” Viren hauled himself up.

“Right,” he said. “Lets be off.”

They crossed the camp and entered the city. Though it was evening, the city was full of activity. At the city gates there were crates full of raw materials and multiple warehouses. Since they obviously didn’t want anything in this area, they wandered deeper into the city.

Beyond the front gates were lots of stores and small stalls. Merchants called out from the stalls, urging people to buy their wares. Viren was wide awake now. They wandered around the city with no particular direction, Nevron examining wares as they went along. It was almost funny. Whenever Nevron looked particularly impressed, Viren nodded his head and tried his best to look approving as well.

As the sun started to set, candlelighters swarmed through the city, lighting lanterns. Most of the lanterns were plain, but some of them were in different colors. That mixed with the sun that hadn’t quite set yet made the unique city a beautiful sight to behold. Eventually they came upon a small shop with a smithy directly next door. Hanging from both buildings was a sign that read:

Melody Blacksmith

“There are some other good shops around the city, but this one has always been my favorite,” Nevron said as he opened the shop door and walked in. Viren caught the door before it shut and followed his friend inside.

Inside the shop were rows and rows of knives, swords, shields, and lots of other fighting equipment. An older man sat at the counter. “Well,” he said when he saw the customers, “If it ain’t a couple of whippersnappers! Try not to cut your hand off with these blades!” he cackled and leaned back in his chair.

“Hasn’t changed at all,” Nevron said with a grin. Viren raised an eyebrow at him and moved to look at the swords. He was debating between a sword that was longer and a tad thinner or a sword that was slightly shorter and a bit broader. He pulled them off the shelves and tested their weight, giving them a bit of a practice swing.

“Careful, sonny,” the old man warned. “I don’t want no mess to clean up, and these bones aren’t too old to be chasing youngsters back to their mommas yet.” He popped a piece of hard candy into his mouth.

Eventually Viren decided on the sword that was slightly longer and thinner. He took it to the counter and the old man sat up straight. He hummed and hawed before declaring, “this one will be five hundred coin.” Viren’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?” he said. The man cackled again.

“I jest,” he said, and pulled a small ledger from underneath the counter. “Let’s see,” he mumbled, licking his finger and turning the page. “Swords… Ah, here we go.” He looked up. “It’s sixty coin.”

“Non-negotiable?” Viren asked. The man nodded. ‘Darn, there goes my plan of getting Nevron to barter for me.’ He supposed it was a reasonable price for a good sword and fished the money out of his pouch. He handed it over and the old man gave him the sword. Luckily it fit pretty well inside his leather sheath once he tightened the straps.

The man nodded to Viren’s old sword. “I can take that embarrassment of a sword off your hands for fifteen coin.” Viren nodded and handed the sword over, glad to be rid of it.

The old man flashed them a toothy grin as they left the shop. “Come again, I always love doing business with a couple of kiddies!”