I have a problem with the language. I don't know for example, if the metal that makes our cutlery and father's spears is iron, but it's the most common metal used in this world, so I am going to think of it as iron, even though it may not be. Same for dragons. I don't know if they are dragons as any on earth would understand it, but they are giant, winged beasts who are known for their greed and hunger, so I am calling them dragons. They are surprisingly enough, not monsters.

My fourth children's festival has come and gone and I have learnt a lot in the last year. The dungeons seem not only a source of all we need and want, but also a disposal facility. People do their business in chamber pots or outhouses, that are emptied into kegs which the hunters bring with them when they go to the dungeon.

Other people exist. Not different races of man, but different species all together. They are often villains in our fairy tales. The Sylvestri are a race of alleged half-monster men, powerful and large, fierce and unsympathizing. The dryads are a race born of trees, uncaring towards anyone else and out of touch with reality, living long lives by themselves, only interacting with human society to lure innocent young children away from their parents. The dragons are legendary powerful tyrants who often enslave entire kingdoms, only to be slain by heroes with particularly powerful gifts.

I take these with a grain of salt of course. If one got their understanding of wolves from "The Little Red Riding Hood" and "The Three Little Pigs", one might severely misjudge the intelligence, motive and abilities of a wolf.

All of this has relevance today as I have been sent on an errand. I think I am quite too young for that, but apparently I am very mature. If only they knew. My older brothers are in some sort of school one starts after their 7th festival, and my dad is off hunting. Usually they send Sten, but he has begun the school. Apparently if they wait for evening, when my father is home, it will be more expensive. My mother is in late pregnancy, expecting her fourth child and has trouble moving around, and a caravan of Sylvestri traders are coming today, so I am going to get salt from them. Apparently, salt doesn't appear in our dungeon, so it is imported through trade, and often the Sylvestri take up this role, though I do not know why, but Sylvestri either appear as evil, mighty warriors or sneaky, cheating merchants in our stories. I suspect they are quite biased, but I don't think I can blame a society such as this, where we are uniform in culture and strange people of a different species exist. Racism is probably quite common. Or is it specieism?

My mother hands me a string, on which is 5 coins. 4 of these coins are red and one is blue, which is quite weird. Is colorful metal a norm here? Both coins have a shield with the same pattern on one side of them, while the other is a picture. The red coin has what I believe is a bowl with a spoon, and the blue a sword and an axe.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Start by offering 3 of the red coins for filling this sack with salt, and pay as little as possible okay? At least offer something lower than his first counter-offer." I receive a small burlap sack half the length of my arm and twice its thickness.

I nod, but have an inevitable question: "How much is the blue coin worth?"

"One iron sword" is the reply I get.

"No, I mean how many red coins is the blue coin worth?"

My mother looks a little confounded and thoughtful. "Somewhere between 10 and 20 red coins. I don't know right now". I am very confused.

"What makes the coins worth what they are worth?" I ask mother.

She kneels down with great trouble and explains.

"The red coins can be exchanged for 1 meal in any castle, the blue for 1 sword or equivalent" my mother explains to me.

Wait what? Does the country have two currencies backed in different natural resources with each their own demand and supply variable? Must be a nightmare as they don't seem to think of it as cents and dollars, but rather as if I were to trade swords and food itself.

"Now be a dear and go fetch that salt" I am told. I receive a kiss on my forehead and dash out of the door towards the village entrance. I love running and my mother who continually mends and alters my shoes so I can keep doing it. Lately though, I feel as if I have been receiving a few odd stares lately. Oh well. There is only a single road that leads to the village, rest are merely small dirt pathways that branch out from the main road to all the houses. I am told one leads to the county capital, while the other leads to the dungeon. I will meet the traders where the road enters the village from the capital side.

I am slightly confused by the appearance of the Sylvestri traders, whom I observe from a little away before going to trade. First off, they are huge. If my dad, who seem fairly average for this world, would be 6 feet tall then these guys would easily be 8 feet tall. They only wear pants and are very muscular. Something strange, since the people I have seen appear to only vary in whether they are thin or fat, not by how muscly their are. Their hair is incredibly abundant and from their head it covers both their necks and a large portion of their backs, as if it was the mane of a lion. They have no beard or whiskers, but very broad noses and normal human eyes. Their ears are like a piece of paper is rolled alongside its diagonal, the chopped in two and placed on the side of their heads. Two have a brown mane and one has a red mane. I wonder if they come in all the crazy colors of the villagers.

One of them walks up to me slowly, kneels down and asks "Ya here fo sumting, poy?" It is a heavy accent, or maybe someone who has not learned our language well. "Ya dunt haf to be afrait" seems he mistook my quiet observation for fear. "This sack, with salt" I gesture with my hands. I could speak more completely, but I have developed a habit of trying to speak incomplete and cutesy to conceal my adult age "Oh, ya running a errant for mams, poy?" I nod, he takes the back and fills it quickly. "Tha'll be ten rets, poy" Oh, I should bargain right. I shake my head "too much, only 5 reds" to which he laughs. "Ya a merkand, poy? 8 reds and no lower". I nod, but I quickly realize something wrong. I only have 4 reds and 1 blue, so I hold the blue up "This, worth 15 reds". The merchant shakes his head "Nae, only 12 ll do ya" I nod, remove the blue coin from my string and got 4 reds and a bag of salt. When I later returned my mother thought they cheated me, but I was just glad it was over.