Cillian looked up at the sky as the first snowflakes of the day landed on his nose. He loved the winter. The cold was exhilarating while also being homely. The trees surrounding him were clothed in a pristine white that he never tired of. Plus, it was the best season for business. He looked down at his feet. A log lay upright on the stump of a tree long dead.
Last one.
The ax that dangled in Cillian's left hand met with his right hand to lift the tool high above his head. In a motion practiced into something more than muscle memory, Cillian brought the ax down in a decisive swing, resulting in the satisfying split of the log. He adjusted the two halves to be standing on the stump like the once whole log and wasted no time in repeating the chopping motion. In the end, he had split the log into four equal parts. Cillian tossed them onto the pile of wood in the wagon behind him.
The cold of the winter morning had made Cillian's hands numb. He rested the ax against the wagon and moved towards his small log cabin of a house. On the short walk, he breathed on his hands to warm them. Upon entering, Cillian quickly addressed the hearth in the center of the household. After a few minutes of fiddling with wood from a pile that lay next to the hearth, a steady and warm fire began to radiate heat. Cillian stayed for a moment to enjoy the heat before leaving to go upstairs. There was one thing left he needed before he could leave.
The room was the same as how Cillian left it at dawn. He sneaked across the room and stopped in front of his cot. The sheets of the cot were a jumbled mess that formed a bump over something underneath them. Cillian kneeled and reached under the bed, gently pulling out the small wooden box from underneath. He lifted it into his arms and began to carefully turn to the exit of the room.
"Brother," a groggy voice said. Cillian stopped moving and turned back towards the cot.
"Did I wake you Amalea?" Cillian watched the girl come from out of the covers. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.
"No. I've been awake. I just didn't want to get out of bed." She replied.
Cillian placed the box on the ground and sat on the bed at her feet. "Did you sleep fine?"
"Um, kind of." Amalea paused. "Not really," she admitted while avoiding eye contact with her brother. "I had a bad dream."
"What happened in your dream?" Cillian asked as he laid down on the cot. His body was too long for the bed and his head hung off one side. Amalea followed in suit and laid her head over Cillian's chest. Her white hair bundled up on him and had an almost silver hue in the morning light.
"Well, I was running in the forest. There were monsters chasing me. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them. I kept running until I got to a cliff," she paused trying to remember. "I can't remember what happened, but the last thing I remember was seeing a dragon."
"That sounds like a scary dream," said Cillian. He hadn't moved and was just staring up at the ceiling.
"It was pretty scary," Amalea said. "But I'm big now and I won't be scared." The tone of her voice had changed and was more bright. She suddenly got up off of her brother. "What's in that box?" Amalea asked, pointing at the wooden box on the floor.
Cillian lifted himself and looked at where Amalea was pointing. "Oh, that?" He sighed. "I guess it's about time I told you." He took the box and put it on the bed between them. He opened it and took the pink crystal from inside out and presented it to her.
Amalea took the crystal into her hand and inspected it. Her pupils dilated and she asked, "what is it?"
The crystal reflected the light in the room and cast different pink shapes on the walls. "It's an identification crystal," Cillian replied. He took the crystal from her hands. "Here, let me show you."
Cillian closed his eyes.
Me. Me. Me.
All of a sudden a bright pink light emerged from the crystal and took the form of a flat rectangular plane. The plane shimmered for a moment and words and numbers formed.
Name: Cillian Drake Norwood Level: 0 HP: 15/15 Age: 19 Body: 5 Spirit: 6 Mind: 4
"WHOA!" Amalea gasped. It was the first time she had seen anything like that. "That's so cool! How did you do that?" She was wild with excitement.
"Well, I just hold this crystal, focus on myself, and whisper in my mind, me, me, me." Cillian gripped the crystal tight again.
Finished. Finished. Finished.
The pink light vanished. "Here, you try," Cillian said as he offered the pink crystal back to Amalea.
"Okay," Amalea said as she took the crystal. She held it with both of her hands. The light green of her skin created an interesting contrast with the bright pink of the crystal. She closed her eyes and spoke in her mind.
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Me. Me. Me.
There was a moment of anticipation before she opened her eyes. To her surprise, nothing happened. There was no bright pink light or screen.
"Why didn't it work?" She asked, confused.
Cillian didn't have an answer for her. "I don't know. Why don't you try again?" She shut her eyes and focused. This time it would work, she thought. However, only disappointment would face her.
"Hmm, maybe you're just too sleepy," Cillian said, trying to comfort her. He took the crystal from her, put it back in the box, then got back off the cot. "Don't worry, when I get back we can figure it out."
"How long are you going to be gone for?" Amalea asked.
"I should be home tonight," Cillian started to move towards the exit. "If not, the latest will be tomorrow morning. There's lots of food in the pantry." He turned back to face her. "Don't go outside. Don't open the door for anyone. And don't do anything stupid."
"I knowww," Amalea groaned. She threw herself back into the bed in a dramatic effort.
"Just relax and read your stories. Oh, and there's a huge stack of wood left by the hearth, so make sure you're warm." Cillian ordered. "Alright, I'm heading out. Do you need anything else?"
"Nope! Goodbye, I love youuu," Amalea sang. She was holding a stuffed bear and was already distracted.
"Love you too. I'll see you soon." With that, Cillian left the cabin. He made his way to the wagon of wood. He threw the ax into the pile of cut logs and walked in front of the wagon. It had some rope attached to the wagon by a harness. The whole contraption was chipped and rundown, but it would hold for what Cillian needed. He took the rope, threw it over his shoulder, and began to pull. It would be a long walk.
***
Cillian stood at the entrance to the market. It was located in the center of the local village of West Tassal. His legs ached from the over four-hour walk, but it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Every week, he made the long journey to the little settlement. West Tassal was located right on the border of the forest where Cillian and his sister lived. He took a rough and rarely traveled path, by anyone but him, and it showed in his deteriorated leather boots. The aura and noise of people bustling about always was a bit of a shock, but that feeling was quickly replaced with a sense of security. He pulled the wagon into the market, looking for the stall of Milton Barrett.
He crossed passed stalls selling all kinds of fruits and vegetables. Many of them he recognized, but there was an equal amount that he didn't know of. Not like he could afford them anyway. Some of the women in the stands waved at him. They had been seeing him since he was younger than Amalea. Cillian waved back and focused his attention on finding the stall of Mr. Barrett.
After a few minutes of traversing the market, he found the distinct yellow banners of Milton Barrett the merchant. Not a moment later, he saw the man himself. He was much shorter than Cillian. His gray hair was sparse throughout his hair and he had a rather wild mustache. Milton was a heavier set man and he wore baggy yellow robes in an attempt to cover that fact.
"Ah, Cillian," the merchant said when he saw the boy. Milton stepped out of his stall, towards Cillian, and shook his hand. "A full wagon of fresh firewood. Right on time too."
"You can count on it," Cillian replied with a somewhat forced smile. Milton always paid the bare minimum for the wood that Cillian brought, so it was hard to be happy about selling to the merchant. He would much rather sell it himself, more money and he wouldn't have to deal with anyone. But, he didn't have the time to spend all day selling. It was much easier to just offload it in bulk, even if it was at a much-reduced gain. Plus, two people didn't need that much money to live on anyway.
Milton turned back to the stall and rummaged through the array of items and returned holding a small brown pouch. He thrust his hand out towards Cillian and said, "Here's what we agreed upon."
Cillian took the pouch and heard the jingle of the contents inside. He placed it flat in the palm of his hand. Something felt off about it. After a moment of contemplation, he realized the discrepancy. It was lighter than he expected. "Are you sure this is everything?"
"Yep, it should all be there," Milton said hurriedly. "Now, if you'll excuse me I must get to work unloading this cart."
"Just one second," Cillian said while he retrieved the wooden box from his belongings. He pulled out the crystal. Milton looked at him slightly concerned. "I'm just making sure," Cillian said.
He focused on the sack of coins in his hand and the pink crystal in the other.
Pouch. Pouch. Pouch. Cillian recited with his eyes closed. The crystal lit up and produced a rectangular pink light, in the form of a screen. This one was smaller than the one that appeared when he demonstrated the crystal to Amalea. It read simply,
Name: Burlap Pouch: Copper Coins: x80 Durability: 95/100 Total Weight: 203 grams
"That isn't right. We agreed upon 100," Cillian said. He sounded visibly annoyed.
"Oh, how can that be? I'm sorry I must have mixed your payment up with someone else," Milton laughed nervously. "Let me take care of that quickly," he said as he turned back towards his stall.
This wasn't the first time that this happened. Cillian was surprised at the fact that it even happened more than once. Milton came back with a wooden cup with some coins inside.
"Here, open your purse and I will put the missing 20 inside," the merchant instructed. Cillian obeyed and was satisfied as he heard the clink of coins filling the bag. "Okay, it will take maybe an hour or two for my men to empty out the cart. You know the drill," Milton said.
"Yup, I'll see you soon Mr. Barrett," and with that, Cillian left to try and find a way to kill the time.
***
After a few minutes of meandering through crowds of people in the market, Cillian had found himself in a circle of people surrounding a chicken fight. Two male chickens were attacking each other in a small enclosure in the center of the circle of people. There was shouting, cheering, groaning, and people trying to be heard over it all. Cillian didn't understand what was going on really, but the excitement had his attention. The feeling of a hand on his shoulder pulled his mind out of the chaos. Cillian turned to see who it was.
"Kostya?" Cillian asked bewildered. Cillian faced a man not much older than him. He was slightly taller, his skin was pale white, and he had long blonde hair that reached to his shoulders. The man was wearing a beige outfit that was covered in a variety of different pockets. From his belt hung more storage containers and an assortment of tools.
The man opened his mouth to speak, "Long time no see, old friend."
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Image [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/990816772108202044/1005989025313738762/Screenshot_from_2022-08-07_20-00-59.png?width=613&height=612]
Market Square in West Tassal