Rueln Layheart

This master of mine was relentless. She was a cruel taskmaster, keeping me running and doing chores to set up camp and care for Peach. After two days of teaching me how to care for the horse, she left me alone with the brute. The beast nearly bit my fingers off when I tried to bribe her with a piece of my bread. Master blamed me, of course, telling me I hadn't flattened out my hand properly, but I know the truth. Peach did it on purpose. I saw it in her eyes.

As if that wasn't the worst of it, I spent the mornings jogging next to my master while she rode until my legs felt like jelly and I could barely breathe. She promised it would loosen me up and help build up my strength, but I see no evidence of this. By the time we camped for the night, I was so exhausted that I passed out more than once over dinner. Master Esra didn't seem to mind and helped me into my pallet soon after, only to wake me up before dawn and repeat. By the time we reached the city of Giath, I was ready to collapse, grateful for a break.

That wasn’t what Master Esra had in mind.

From the moment we walked through the gates into the city proper, we found an inn, gave Peach to the stable master, then took our packs up to our room. I didn’t think she needed me for the shopping part, but when I asked to stay in the room, Master shook her head. “Oh no,” she said, smirking at me when I groaned. “We need to keep those little feet moving. We made it fairly early, so I want to get you fitted for some new clothes and shoes.” Taking a moment to look at my hand-me-down shoes, she raised her eyebrow. “How they made it on this trip, I do not know, but we’re buying you a pair that will actually fit well and are not a size too small. All the healing drafts in the world can only take care of your blisters for so long.”

I frowned and looked down at my shoes, my left pinky toe sticking out of a hole. It still had at least six months’ wear before I thought I would need Eidke’s old pair, and they were still a little big. “But, Master Esra,” I started, hesitantly, feeling heat rise to my face for what I was about to admit. “I don’t have the money for new things…”

Master Esra paused, setting her pack down on the bed and turning to me. “Rueln, I am your master now. It’s my duty to buy what you need while you are in my care. Don’t worry about money, food, or anything else.” If I was honest with myself, this felt like charity, and I didn’t know how to respond to it. I looked up, only to find her watching me, and hurriedly looked back down at the floor again. “Rueln?” Master Esra asked, and I knew she was waiting for something.

“Yes, Master?” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“This is where you say thank you. It is polite when someone cares for your needs.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said, choking the words out, not because I didn’t mean them, but because I couldn’t think how it could be possible for me to pay back this debt. This woman was already doing much more than I thought possible, and now she was going to buy me all these new things. Papa always told me to pay back a debt, and I didn’t want to owe this woman anything.

As if reading my thoughts, Master Esra’s hand reached down and drew my chin up. I looked up at her gentle face. Stray, dusty blonde hairs flew every which way, having escaped her messy bun while dust from the road clung to her trousers. Her green eyes were gentle and patient as she smiled at me, understanding why I was so discomforted. “You’re welcome, Rueln, but remember, everything I give you, you will earn twice over by learning what I teach you. You are a smart boy. I don’t want to hear a word about you paying me back someday. My reward is passing on what I know.”

I didn’t understand her reasoning, but I nodded. How could she earn any coin from me by just teaching me what she knew? It made little sense.

Thankfully, my acknowledgment seemed to be enough to satisfy her. Master Esra pulled out her coin purse and motioned towards the door. The next thing I knew, I was being poked, prodded, and stretched in a tailor shop while Master Esra watched.

“You are a scrawny little thing, aren’t you?” The seamstress muttered to herself through the pins dangling from her lips. “You’ll have plenty of room to grow once your master feeds you up properly. I better make room for that. Still some height to get out of you, too. Hmm…” After giving her notes to a group of girls who worked under her she turned to Master Esra. “It’ll be two silver and four copper nobles for the lot. I have three pairs of trousers made already for a boy his size, but I’ll need a few days to turn out the other four and the tunics you want. Are you sure you want seven pairs?” Master Esra nodded confirmation and the elderly woman bustled about, picking up her things to put away. “Well then, I’ll throw a few pairs of stockings in for the good custom you bring and if you need anything else, Ma’am, let me know, would ya?”

“Thank you,” Master Esra said, bowing her head a little and reaching into her purse for the coin.

She had that?! Master had that much coin?! I stared at her as she pulled the money out, spying a gold coin among all the silver before she put them away and gave the woman her money. I had never seen so much coin in my life. I craned my neck for a better view, only for the seamstress to shoo me off the dais.

“Go on now. Off you go. I have other customers to tend to,” she ordered, motioning me away with her hands. She sure was in a rush.

As we walked out of the store with our packages, I looked both ways, trying to see through the crowd of other shoppers. “Where to next, Master Esra?” I asked, pulling my eyes upward as she slid the package with the three trousers under her arm.

“Well,” she said, a thoughtful note to her voice, “you’ve been measured for your clothes. Why don’t we take care of your shoes next, then I’ll allow you to explore a bit while I buy the rest of our supplies.”

I blinked. “You mean it, Master Esra?” I demanded, pushing myself up on my tiptoes, wanting to jump around in excitement. I’d never gotten to explore a city before, even when Papa and Aleah took us shopping through the portal.

Master Esra chuckled. “Yes, I mean every word. You know the deal, however, right?”

“I’m to be back by supper,” I said, remembering all the times she had told me before. There was no holding back my smile, though. The entire time it took to get my feet measured and fitted into a pair of new shoes, I could hardly stay still. It wasn’t an exaggeration that by the time the cobbler finished I had firmly cemented myself with him as a horrible customer. It was a good thing Master Esra paid him well for the trouble.

“This is for you,” Master Esra said, catching me by the door to the cobbler shop before I could run off. I frowned and held out my hand, only for her to drop three coppers into my palm. I gaped at it. “This is to pay for a noon meal,” she explained, glancing up at the sun bearing down on everyone overhead. “We’ll be staying for a few days, so spend it wisely.”

Promising I would and knowing I could find the inn again, I dashed off.

There must be a skill in weaving through a dense crowd of people, because I sure didn’t have it. People jostled and pushed each other around me. As I reached the busy parts of the market, I had to duck under a blow meant for someone who was walking a little too slowly. I guess people had places to be, and they didn’t appreciate a kid running underfoot. I assumed that was it, anyway, because Papa and Aleah always complained when I hovered around them for any reason. Adults complain about everything.

The first thing I did was follow my nose. There was a vendor selling grilled meat. I didn’t even care that it cost a whole copper. I bought two. They were both gone before I found the next stall full of spices from all across the empire. The seller didn’t even notice when I tasted a pinch of something while she was busy with a dumpy-looking woman with three kids holding onto her skirts.

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Still licking my fingers, I ducked under the table and followed the sound of applause, wondering what that was about. I had seen traveling musicians before; Papa would take us to the festival once a year to see the bards play, but I didn't hear any music this time, so I didn't think that was it. The sudden roar of awe from the crowd around the market fountain just urged me on.

“Excuse me,” I said, pushing between two men who both looked filthier than I did and smelled like rotten fish. I had to hold my nose to avoid gagging, giving them a disgusted look before something distracted me completely.

I gasped as the blue light dazzled my eyes. A man and a woman were dancing around, throwing magic into the air like it was the easiest thing in the world, blue and purple lights making shapes while an elderly man sat between them. He looked ancient, every inch of him covered in leathery wrinkles, but when he spoke his voice was strong, projecting over the noise of the crowd in such a way that it made me wonder if it was magic too.

"The people grieved for Princess Tieke for many nights, their voices rising into the sky, calling for the gods to return her to them," the man said, raising his hands to the heavens while the two people behind him shaped their dancing lights to mimic a village full of people doing the same. I recognized the story, having heard it before, just not in such a way. I couldn't have imagined being able to see it before. The magic picture show kept not only me, but many in the crowd transfixed. "The gods would not hear it,” the old man continued, “for they had taken their precious child home and soon the village fell into silence, for they vowed that if their Princess could not return to them, then they would praise the gods no more."

I stared open-mouthed as the lights turned red, flickering as the old man’s hand fell to the drum in his lap. He hit it, and it was as if thunder boomed though I could see no cloud in the sky. “The gods grew angry when the village stopped filling their ears with praise. ‘You should be grateful.’ They said, ‘We have blessed you for many years.’ But the people did not bow to them. They did not hear.”

As the man raised his hand, about to unleash the gods’ wrath, a hand shoved me from behind and I fell hard onto the cobblestone ground. Someone’s boot stomped on my hand as a man’s personal guard moved people aside. “Out of the way, you filthy foder. We don’t need you mucking up the streets while his lordship enjoys the entertainment,” barked a gruff guard, his hand on his sword as if to dare someone to contradict him.

I grit my teeth and pulled my hand free, scowling up at them all as I got to my feet while clutching my throbbing hand. The man didn't look like a lord to me, but I guess I wouldn't really know. There wasn't one back in my village. Whatever. I could come back later to see if the magicians and the storyteller were still here. Maybe I could get lucky enough to see the show from the beginning.

Not wanting to get shoved or stepped on again, I left, knowing I wouldn't enjoy the show anymore, anyway. Not with those bullies hanging around. Instead, I drifted around the market again, finding stalls of wares that interested me. The market stalls looked the same after another hour, and since my already sore body was protesting, I headed back towards the inn for a break.

Three blocks later and one wrong turn too many, I found myself in a completely different market with no idea how I got there. "Where am I?" I wondered aloud, unable to read the signs posted nearby. It was times like this that I really wished I could read.

I took a step into the street, turning in a circle to take in everything, my eyes rising to the second and third floors of the buildings that cast the entire area in shadow. Hundreds of people filled the area, bunching in to get a better look at displays protected by magical barrier crystals, while still more shuffled around behind booths and counters, coming in and out of shops. To my surprise, the more I watched people moving this way and that, I realized that probably only half of the people were actually there to shop.

"Thorton, get that box out of here. The cart is already waiting outside to be loaded up," yelled a woman as she ducked under a curtain into a building. "I've already told you twice, boy."

“Aye, Ama,” complained a teenager, coming out of the same door the woman had entered. I noted he had the same dark skin and black hair as the woman as he carried a crate of items out with him. “I heard you the first time!” Dozens of people sharing similar features were running the market. It was almost as if it were a city. I had never even heard of something like this before. Thorton turned in my direction, unable to see over the top of the crate, nearly running me over as I scrambled to the side. “Out of the way,” he snapped when he noticed me.

I watched him put the crate away, sliding it onto the back of the wagon, already half full of other valuables, before I went to peek at the displays. That was when I realized what kind of market I had found myself in. “Memory Relics,” I whispered, reaching my hand up to rest against the crystal-powered shield.

“Hey, Brat,” a man barked above me, swatting at my hand. “Don’t touch. If ya don’t have the coin to buy, off with ya.”

I flinched back but didn’t move far away, staring around as other people pointed at things or paid coins before they could even touch something. It was the oddest place. I didn’t even know it was possible to make money off of selling memory relics, not that I cared to buy anything. The one petty copper that I had left wouldn’t get me far here, anyway. I could hear vendors yelling prices from where I stood and two silvers were the cheapest. Most ranged from ten silver to even 3 gold. Who had that kind of money?

Merchants and nobles, apparently. The market was full of well-dressed people, their purses full to bursting at their hips. With as many treasures here, it surprised me I didn’t see anyone trying to filch some of it off them. I guessed there were too many people here with the vendors that acted like guards for many to get away with it. Every one of them had a sword at their belt and I bet they knew how to use them. I couldn’t be sure, though. Papa always told me thieves could be daring.

“Over here,” called a woman, her teenage daughter holding up a tray for all to see. “Were ya a queen in another life? How about a noble princess of kingdom's past? Come, feast your eyes on the treasures of the Fallen Era, before the empire and her highness Empress Vhal Aairith united our people.”

I inspected the stall, but couldn’t get close enough to see much. There were too many people claiming they wanted to view the treasures offered. All of them were people like me. Without a reincarnation, and despite their higher blood or wealthier status, I knew people judged them. It didn’t matter where you came from, without the mark of recall on our arms we were outsiders.

It gave me shivers just thinking about it. I was fine with who I was. I wouldn’t mind not getting called insulting names or being shoved around because I didn’t have the mark of recall on my arm, but the fear of backlash was still too strong in me to want to really see if I could find a recall of my own.

Thinking better of hanging around a relic market, I decided I needed to head back to the inn. There wasn't any point in looking around, and I didn't want to risk seeing something that called to me. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I saw something and it felt dangerous to have a recall among all these strangers.

As I ran past the stall where the woman and her son had been earlier when I noticed someone else. There was a boy a year or two older than me watching me from across the street. He looked at home among the sellers and vendors, probably part of the same extended family, but he seemed suspicious. I had done nothing to warrant anyone’s attention, and I sure didn’t steal anything. What was his problem? Our eyes met briefly, the blue of his iris so clear it glowed like crystal before I slammed into someone and hit the ground.

Relics crashed down on and around me, the precious items clanging in the street.

“Ow…” I complained, sitting up and rubbing my head where something had hit me. Opening one eye, I saw Thorton on the ground in front of me, wincing with the scattered remnants of the crate and his load beside him.

"Thorton!" his mother yelled. "How many times do I have to tell you to be careful with the relics?!"

"It was a kid, Ama!" Thorton called back, glaring at me for making him drop everything and hurriedly picked things up. "Nothing's broken."

"Well, hurry up then. Your Da is ready to go!"

"Aye! I'm hurrying. I'm hurrying!" He growled, picking up the last few things and jogging off without saying a word to me. He hurriedly shoved his load onto the wagon and jumped into the passenger seat next to a gruff-looking man and they urged the horses through the street, heading back towards me.

"Sorry…" I grumbled, picking myself up when I saw he had left something behind. The silver comb glittered in the light, richer than anything I’ve seen before. It would be missed, I was sure. I reached for it, about to call the pair, when I picked up the comb and stood only to stumble. A weight fell over my mind, dimming everything else around me until I felt as if I were falling. Not silver… I realized vaguely. The comb had been glowing.

My body hit the cobblestone for the third time that day, my vision fading as my body grew weak as a newborn. The last thing I saw was a shadow of a figure darting out in front of Thorton's wagon, before arms encircled me.

I knew nothing more.