A little over a half hour later, Gato arrived at the gates of the town of Alfheimwood, where the market was, with the oxen-led wagon right behind him. The town was located deep within the world’s northern hemisphere, on a great plain, with forests, foothills, and mountains in the distance to the west. “Okay, let’s see here… I wonder what else is on the list that my parents didn’t say was on it at first?”

At that point, he saw a town guard dozing at his assigned post at the eastern gate, which was the main entrance to town. Hey, wait a second… he thought. Why is this guard asleep at a time like this?

He approached the guard and said to him, “Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?”

There was no reply.

“Hello?” he asked the guard. “Are you awake?”

Before Gato could do more than shrug, the guard’s buddy walked over and said, “Ah, Gato, come on inside. I’ll deal with this slacker for you.”

“Okay, thanks,” Gato said, heading through the gates and into town. Behind him, he could’ve sworn that he heard a thwacking noise from the buddy of the lazy guard. Hmm… not my problem now…

He continued into town to do his shopping. The first stop was easy enough, because it was within the area where the grains had to be. He knew he needed to keep things from being too expensive for his parents, that was for sure, especially since their farm didn’t earn an awful lot of money. He needed to keep the list on him at all times, true, especially since he had nothing else he was supposed to do with the thing.

“Excuse me,” Gato said to the merchant at the stall he had stopped at first. “Do you have any of the grains on this list?”

As he handed the list over to the merchant, the man looked him over with a critical eye. “I might, yes,” the merchant said. “However, how old are you supposed to be, exactly?”

“I’m in my fifteenth year right now,” Gato said.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“I’m the youngest of eight children.”

The merchant looked between Gato and the list, before he sighed. “Kid, do you know how to read or write?”

“No, sorry,” Gato said, dropping his head to his chest.

“Don’t be sorry, kid,” the merchant said. “Look, I’ll cross-reference the items you’re looking for here, and then I’ll give you the amount of grains asked for at a fair price. Can you count coin?”

Gato nodded. “I might not be able to read letters, but I can understand prices, sir.”

“I’m glad you can. Now, let me see what I can do for you regarding this list,” the merchant said.

As the man turned around to handle looking at the grains on the list, Gato let himself get distracted by his thoughts. I wonder if something exciting is going to happen any time soon? I doubt it, but it’d be nice to dream, right?

“Hear ye, hear ye!” The town crier rang a bell to get everyone’s attention. “A grand tournament will begin here in Alfheimwood in two weeks’ time!”

Hold up… what’s happening now?

Gato turned his attention to the town square to find out what was going on. After all, this was the first opportunity to work on his ability to get off of his parent’s farm, which seemed to be going straight to Jeremiah sooner than later.

Hmm… this sure sounds exciting. I bet it’s going to be a lot better than being stuck in a boring apprenticeship that I don’t know what to do with here.

“We will use this tournament to allow the nation we call home to prosper, as proclaimed by His Majesty, King Victor Sylvania.” The town crier stopped ringing the bell, putting his arm down. “Those who wish to help the country prosper must sign up for the contest. All those who are incapable of signing up because they cannot write will have a voucher assigned to them.”

Okay, so far, interesting enough… but what’s the catch? Is there an entrance fee? Do I have to have a sponsor? Will they provide the equipment?

Gato’s mind was racing as he tried to figure this one out.

“Lady Marquess Valentina Von Cardios, the widow of the late Marquis Rafael Von Cardios, will host the tournament.” The town crier raised a finger into the air. “For this tournament, combat will begin between the contestants, to ensure that everyone is fighting fit for later.”

Combat? Wait, what does the crier mean about being “fighting fit for later”?

“This tournament fast track one’s ability to join the military, as ordered by His Majesty.” The town crier raised finger number two into the air. “Depending on how well you do, you could even be a captain in the army, able to handle a massive amount of military power.”

Oh, boy… I need to get myself on track to handle the responsibilities allotted to a captain in the army. I can’t believe they actually have that as a reward for the tournament in times like this… it’s amazing!

Gato thought it over and decided he should try to sign up for the tourney. He knew he would be in the army some day, but he wanted to join sooner than later. The tourney provided him that opportunity.

Now, where do they want me to sign up at? I hope it’s somewhere with some writing supplies, and people to write for those who can’t.

The town crier raised a third finger into the air. “You will find the organizers of this tournament at the local temple, helping those who need their aptitude tested. Please go there if you’re interested in participating.”

Thank you for the information, sir, Gato thought, filing the information away for later.

“Kid, you’re in luck,” the merchant said, getting Gato to look at the man. “I have the grains you’re looking for. Your list said a bushel of each kind of grain in the market, right? The total price comes down to 25 copper pieces.”

“Thank you,” Gato said with a nod. Pulling out his coin pouch, he extracted the copper pieces as requested of him. “Pleasure doing business with you, good sir.”

The merchant nodded, before he handed back the list that Gato handed to him. “Keep this safe, kid,” he said. “You don’t want it stolen out from under you when trying to get the shopping done.”

Gato nodded as he lifted the bushels of grain onto the wagon. “Here’s hoping that I can handle this job the right way,” he said as he finished lifting the bushels into the wagon.

He had barely managed to get back to the front of the wagon when he heard the clanging of a bell in the air again. What’s going on that would require my attention? He decided to put that out of sight and mind for the moment as he walked over to continue his shopping.

The town crier, however, seemed to be oblivious to what Gato was thinking of. “Hear ye, hear ye! This announcement comes from Royal Sylvania itself. The Crown Princess has gone missing!”

Gato paused and thought to himself, Wait… we have a princess? Why am I only now hearing about her?

“They have reported Crown Princess Abigail Sylvania went from her room to the stables, hoping to get a horse ride without supervision.” The town crier moved his fingers into a fist that he clenched at his side. “The princess is missing and we are unsure if she somebody kidnapped her or if she suffered an injury and cannot return. Please, help us look for her post-haste!”

Before Gato could think of asking questions to the town crier…

“What does the Princess look like?” a random man asked the town crier.

“She’s a beauty beyond compare,” the town crier said. “She is of medium height with a slender waist, her hair is the color of sunlight at high noon, and her eyes are the color of sapphires. Also, she has the warmest smile of any lady in the country.”

“What about her clothing choice?” a woman asked the town crier. “Tell us more about what she was wearing.”

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“She primarily wears high quality white clothes, though the clothing has some gold embroidery on it,” the town crier answered. “She also has a tiara made of pure silver, with gemstones encrusted within it.”

“What of the horse she may have taken?” someone asked. “Is it still in the stable back at the castle? Did it return without the princess?”

“No, the horse is gone.” The town crier shook his head. “It’s a black beauty, to be sure, with a bright white mark on its forehead.”

Wait… if someone stole the horse and kidnapped the princess, then wouldn’t it be impossible to hide them from the public?

“There is no other information on this matter.” The town crier raised the bell to continue ringing it. “Hear ye, hear ye…”

At that point, Gato decided that he’d better finish the task that his parents had assigned him. However, the more he thought on it, the more he wanted to take part in the tournament right away. Decisions, decisions…

Eh, why not? I’ll take a detour to go to the temple and register that way first and foremost.

With that, he lead the oxen and the wagon over to the temple, where he was hoping to register for the tournament… and he hoped without causing a massive disturbance in the process of him signing up. As it stood, though, he was grateful that he didn’t accidentally cause a riot of some other form of ruckus. In any case, he thought, Cima needs to get herself out of this part of the country and work on getting herself a husband the right way… or so I think, anyway. This tournament business is just going to be a problem for her if she’s not able to use it to follow her heart.

As he arrived at the temple, he sighed in relief as he saw the organizers were waiting for registrants outside the majestic building. Its white marble walls rose into a series of spires high in the skies. As Gato walked to the nearest tournament table, he had the wagon and oxen wait further away from the temple than the table he was headed to, all while keeping an eye on the wagon. Fortunately, everything was in order for him so far.

So far, so good, he thought. Now, to enroll in the tournament… “Excuse me, but I heard that there will be a tournament in the next two weeks?” he asked the organizer.

“Aye, that you have,” the organizer said. “The tournament is open to just about anyone, but there will be those who can’t take part in all the games, because of age or infirmity.”

Gato said to the organizer, “Well, I’m young and healthy. So… could you help me register, please?”

The organizer looked Gato in the eye for a brief second, before he said, “Sure thing, lad. What’s your name?” He picked up a parchment and a feather quill pen, dipping the pen in an ink well.

“Gato, son of Alexander.”

“How do you spell your given name?”

“G-A-T-O,” Gato replied.

“Alright, thanks,” the organizer said. He wrote the name as spelled, allowing Gato to see what it was like to write a name down on parchment. “Now, the next part of the parchment work will rely on you getting a weapon at some point, but sooner than later is for the best. Do you have a preferred weapon type? I assume you are signing up for the fighting portion of the tournament rather than for the strategic games.”

“Er… not yet, no,” Gato replied, shaking his head. “I’m still trying to get my hands on a weapon for the tournament’s fighting portion.”

“That’s alright, lad,” the organizer answered. “I’ll list you as someone who needs to get accustomed to the different weapon choices available.”

As the organizer made his marks on the parchment, Gato asked, “What weapons will they allow for the tournament? I can’t imagine it would include a pitchfork or anything…”

“Well, true,” the organizer said, nodding his head. “However, we allow a similar weapon called a trident. I suppose a pitchfork would be good practice for a trident.”

“What about a spear?”

“You can use a spear, but you’d need to have it confirmed you either bought it or you made it.”

“Wait, why is that the case?” Gato asked.

“Well, to be fair, this is if you brought a weapon from outside the tournament,” the organizer answered. “I’ll just mark you as needing a weapon of your choice for the tournament, besides what I said beforehand.”

“Thanks,” Gato said, offering a brief nod. “Is there anything else I need to do for the tournament before it begins?”

“No, not yet, lad,” the organizer told him. “Head over to the Sylpheed Plains outside town in two weeks’ time to be ready to enter the tournament.”

“Again, thank you,” Gato said, giving the man a big smile. At that, he walked back to the wagon and oxen so that he could get the groceries that he needed to go get, keeping his list at the ready. Now… I need to hurry this up before going home, don’t I? As he walked over to shop, he couldn’t help but notice that the town’s streets were in serious disrepair, with many potholes and bare places that were more mud than dirt. Many of the buildings had some state of ruin about them, and all needed some repair and a fresh coat of paint… except for the temple, the bank, and the home of the lord mayor. It made him think that on his previous trips to town, Gato had never noticed that Alfheimwood seemed rather poor.

Since when was the town in such a state of disrepair? It doesn’t make any sense to me…

As he headed back to go get the groceries he was sent out to get, he couldn’t help but notice that there was a depressing air around the majority of the citizens of town around him. He didn’t know how come he only now noticed it, but it was stranger than what he’d been accustomed to. It was maddening, the depressing air. He couldn’t stand it.

Eventually, he found his way to the vendors again. “Excuse me, which way to the produce vendor around here?” he asked the nearest shopper.

“Right in front of you,” the shopper said, pointing behind himself. “Hope you’re ready to get what you’re looking for.”

“I should be, thanks,” Gato said, giving a nod.

“Eh, that’s good,” the shopper said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get to the grain vendor. I hope he has the grains I need.”

As the shopper left, Gato walked over to the vendor he needed to go to, leading his oxen and wagon over to the stall. “Excuse me,” he said to the merchant, “but do you have any of the produce on this list?”

The merchant turned to face Gato, her face harsh from the weather. “I might, actually,” she said. “What all are you looking to buy more than one container of?”

Gato handed the list over to her. “I can read prices, but not the words associated, sadly,” he said.

The merchant took a quick look at the list and placed it back down. “Okay, two baskets of carrots, three baskets of potatoes and one of everything else? I can provide that for you.”

“Thank you,” Gato said, giving a nod in her direction. “How much would it cost to pay for it all?”

“It costs a single copper piece for each basket, and you seem to want eighteen baskets total,” she said. “Therefore, the price is eighteen copper pieces.”

“Consider it done,” Gato said, pulling out the needed copper pieces to give the woman.

“Wait until you get the baskets loaded up first, kid,” she said. “I doubt that you want to be cheated out of your coin that you have to spend.”

Gato felt his face flush up. “Oh… right…” he muttered out. “Thank you for reminding me about that.”

“No problem, kid,” the merchant said, a small smile gracing her face. “I think you need to be extra careful, though, in case someone attempts to con you out of your money.”

I can imagine that…

“I will see how to be more alert,” Gato said. “In the meantime, do you want me to help you with putting the baskets next to the grains in the wagon? I can do that, if you feel so inclined.”

“Thank you for the offer, young man,” the merchant said, “but I will be okay in the long haul. I appreciate the concern, though.”

Gato nodded, before he walked out of the merchant’s way. “When am I supposed to give you the money needed as payment for this service rendered?”

“Wait for me to get back to my station in the plaza,” she said. “I do not think that you would like to have the money stolen out from under your nose, would you?”

“No, madam,” Gato said, shaking his head furiously. “I will keep the money on me at all times until you need me to pay for this.”

“I am glad you decided to see it that way,” the merchant said, hoisting the carrots onto the wagon. “Normally, the produce I offer for everyone is of normal weight for its size. However, lately, the soil had given my produce more weight to them. I do not know why that is the case, but it is.”

Gato blinked as he heard that. “Wow… that sounds awkward,” he said. “I would hate to be my parents, then… they will need to lift all the produce into the house from the wagon, in that case.”

The merchant looked Gato in the eye as she heard that statement. “Yes, that would be a problem, young man,” she said, before she walked back to get the potatoes. “I do hope that your oxen have the strength to pull the wagon full of heavy produce and grains back to your homestead.”

“Trust me, I have high hopes for the oxen,” Gato said, even as the merchant lugged the potatoes onto the back of the wagon. “Are you sure you do not need any help?”

“I am sure, kid,” the merchant said, shaking her head. “Believe me, I had to lug the produce a long ways away from here, to make sure I could sell it for a reasonable price.”

Gato nodded. “Very well,” he said.

“Now, would you be a dear and check your coin purse for any attempt to lighten it by thieves?” the merchant asked him as she walked back to get the rest of the produce in trips. “I just do not think that there would not be any thieves around here, all things considered.”

Wait… that is a valid concern. I need to check and make absolutely sure about that.

As Gato checked his coin purse for any possible signs of tampering, he saw that the merchant was about to put the next batch of produce onto the wagon for him. It seemed to be incredible that she could lift all those groceries into the wagon like they weighed nothing. Of course, he needed to hold onto a basket for himself, to make sure he was not being led astray.

With that, he put his coin purse where it belonged, got into the wagon, and gripped a basket of potatoes, attempting to pull the basket up off the wagon’s floor. It didn’t even budge.

“Now you see what I mean, I take it?” the merchant asked. “I did not want to harm you with the produce being heavier than normal.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Gato said with a strained voice. “I wonder how heavy the individual pieces of produce are?”

The merchant pulled out a carrot from her supplies, walking over to the scales in the immediate area. “I can tell you that this carrot is one of the average carrots that I have to sell, in terms of weight.” She placed a weight on one side of the scale, then the carrot on the other. The carrot dipped the scale immensely. “The weight was set to be twenty pounds. The carrots weigh more on average than the weight approves.”

Gato’s eyes bugged out when he saw the end result. “You have got to be kidding me…” he croaked out.

“I wish, young man,” the merchant said. She shook her head. “I had better finish the task that I started.”

Gato nodded, before he stepped down to the ground. A few minutes later, his supplies were bought and paid for, and he left for home… his family’s farmstead.