I wake up to the sun peeking through the window, casting warm light upon my face, and as I stand, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. The image is still bizarre to me, like an uncanny valley effect, or imposter syndrome, to see my likeness, save in a child’s body. My mess of medium length, wavy brown hair, rosy cheeks still smooth with baby fat, dimples as I smile. A button nose, upon which sits two oversized gray eyes, that for the moment are puffy and red.

I shake my head and turn away, wondering where Gin has gone. He did not return for the night, still attending to whatever business of his, I presume. Looking to the table, I catch sight of a sheet of paper there, and reading it, I find that it’s a note from my companion.

“Jaxon, you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll leave you this message instead. I noticed you don’t have any belongings. Here is some money. Feel free to go into town and buy whatever supplies you might need. I still have some matters to attend to, so I’ll meet you back at the inn later once I’m done. Your most awesomest companion, Gin Renolds.”

Finishing, I feel a snort escape my nose as a smirk crawls its way onto my face. I pick up the small pouch on the table, giving a quick estimate of the coin within. Then stuffing both it and the note into my pocket, I make my way out of the tavern. The sun is shining brightly, the sky clear as can be.

A strange excited energy takes over, and I’m off to explore the town.

****

Given that we had arrived late into the night, I had not been able to give Ridge Port a proper lookover. By day, however, it is exactly as you might expect a medieval reconstruction to be. Buildings in the style of the tavern, made of wood and stone, line the cobble streets on either side, separated into blocks by alleyways that run perpendicular to the main road. Looking at the sun, I appear to be in the eastern part of the city, and despite the earliness of the day, plenty of townsfolk are already out and about. Some, mostly women, but also children, appear to be taking care of housework, laundry and sweeping and the like. Others seem to be heading off, empty bags over their shoulders. I presume their destination is a shopping district of some sort; I follow behind the crowd, heading west. Far in the distance, a castle looms.

I find myself crossing a large wooden bridge, over a river that, as far as I can tell, appears to transect the entire city, south to north, the water rushing soothingly below. Beyond this and I begin to hear the sound of music- flutes, banjos, cymbals, rattles. Ahead, a large plaza emerges, already starting to fill with idle chatter, as well as the carts of makeshift stalls, merchants peddling in all sorts of unusual trinkets and wares. For the more staple supplies, permanent shops surround the plaza- tanner, blacksmith, cobber, mason, tailor. It is the last of these that is the first on my list of places to visit.

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I pass under the wooden sign upon which a pair of scissors is etched, through the wooden door and into the building. A little bell jingles, calling for the shopkeep. A mustached man with spectacles emerges, at first looking about the space, confused. Then he looks down, spotting me, and I notice a contemptuous expression cross his face. “What do you want, boy? I ain’t giving nothing for free, even if you beg.”

“I have money,” I reply respectfully, pulling out the bag Gin had given me. I shake it around a bit, projecting its weight, and pull out a singular gold coin, waving it about in the air. This seems to catch the tailor’s attention. I smile, feeling relieved that even in this entirely different world, I can still depend on good old human greed. “How much for an entire outfit?”

The tailor eyes me for a moment, clearly trying to calculate how much he can squeeze me for. He holds out a hand. “Eight gold pieces.”

I have no idea if that’s a lot of money. From what I’ve seen in Gin’s pouch, there’s copper, silver and gold. A one night stay at the inn had only cost ten copper. Does that mean eight gold is a lot?

“I’ll need something immediately,” I say. The tailor raises an eyebrow, to which I just point to my current attire. This seems to get the message across.

I see him tap his chin, then say, “I do have something on hand that I had made for a different customer. Should fit. But it ain’t gonna be cheap. Fifteen gold pieces.”

“Fifteen-?! Ahem. I mean, why fifteen? You were saying eight just earlier.”

“Ten for the outfit, five for my troubles.”

This guy… basically doubling his price. The “eight” figure he gave out earlier was probably also a markup. Is it because I look like a naive child? Now, I might not know how much a gold piece is worth, but I can certainly tell when I’m being ripped off. If he wants to play games… well, two can take part.

“Hmm,” I hum aloud as I reach my hand into the pouch, pulling out a gold coin. “One,” I say as I set it on the counter before going to fetch another. My motion is slow and deliberate, and I can see the tailor tracking it, his mouth all but salivating. “Two. Three,” I count as I stack the money one atop the other. “Seven. Eight.” I finish before standing back, giving the tailor a glance.

He furrows his brow, shaking his head. “I said, ‘Fifteen’. Don’t you know how to count, boy?”

“Five for the outfit, three for your troubles. Five plus three is eight. Would you like to check my counting, Sir?” I ask sharply.

“Outrageous! There’s no way I can accept those prices!”

“Hmm,” I hum again.

And here comes the most important part of bartering. You have to be willing to walk away.

I scoop up the gold coins, sweeping them back into the pouch. Then I offer a shrug, turning to leave. “I saw a few outfits being sold in the plaza,” I bluff, “Not the best quality, but only a few silvers. I think I’ll go buy those instead. Oh, and I’ll be sure to let all my friends and their parents know to avoid the outrageous prices of this shop. Have a good day, Sir.”

I’m just about to exit the store, my hand already on the doorknob, when I hear a yell come from behind. “W-wait, ten! Ten gold, and you tell everyone you know about what a great shop Mr. Taylor runs.”

I smile, then wipe it clear from my face before turning around. “Ten gold it is,” I shrug.