Yes, there are other worlds out there. You are not alone.753Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ52Djof4z3c
Peter and Antei had finally reached the market. Both were sweating profusely from the sun’s heat. Unlike on the hills, the air in the town was hotter and more humid.
“How much sugar should we buy?” Antei asked.
“I don’t know. Mum didn’t say,” Peter answered.
“Well, that’s just great.”
“Let’s just buy all the sugar we can with the money I was given. It’s not like sugar spoils like food.”
“And what are you going to buy the blue cloth for your sister?”
“I completely forgot about that.”
“Let’s go buy the cloth first. You do know how much Pristina wants right?”
“She was asking for a foot of blue cloth.”
“Well then, let’s go buy a foot of blue cloth and then sugar with the leftover money.”
The two friends turned left at the market junction, heading for the area where they sold wares other than food. The clothes shop they were walking towards was owned by Anjelia’s childhood friend. They would get discounts there.
They arrived at a wooden building that bore the name of the shop: ‘Ran’s Clothes’. They entered it, a bell ringing as they opened the door.
“Aunt Ran?” Peter called, taking off his shoes and stepping onto the carpet that covered the shop’s floor inside. Antei did the same.
There was a shuffle in the row of clothes to Peter’s right. From behind the clothes a lean woman wearing cotton pants and a loose shirt with frills at its wrist and collar appeared. She was almost as tall as Peter and bore a scar on her right cheek.
“She has a weird sense of fashion,” Antei commented. Peter prodded him slightly with his elbow.
“Oh, hello Peter,” Ran commented on seeing her friend’s son. “And Antei, isn’t it? What brings you here today?” She walked off to a shelf and started shuffling through the clothes sitting there. “How’s Anjelia? It’s been ages since I last visited her.”
“She’s doing well,” Peter answered. He walked to a wooden stool nearby and sat down, motioning for Antei to do the same. “I was wondering if you had any blue cloth for sale. Pristina is designing a dress and she says she needs some to finish it.”
“She seems to be delving deeply into tailoring,” Ran said.
“Well, she’s been pretty fascinated with art since childhood.”
“That and violence. I heard she kicked in a boy’s teeth who was catcalling her last month.”
“Mum slightly exaggerated. She only kicked him in the face and bruised him a little.”
“She also punched a girl and gave her a black eye,” Antei added.
Peter paused momentarily, thinking. “That is true.”
“What’d the girl do?” Ran asked. She was busy ruffling through a shelf of cloth.
“The girl was the boy’s elder sister who had come to his defence,” Antei said.
Ran whistled. “Pristina had grown to be quite a strong woman now. My daughter could learn from her.”
“Peter himself could learn from her, couldn’t you Peter?” Antei grinned at Peter.
“If you were lost in a forest, what do you think would be more useful? Being able to build a shelter and cook food for yourself or just plain fighting? Because all she knows is fighting.”
“Well, knowing her she’d probably go look for a bear, kill it, eat it’s food, and sleep in its cave,” Antei said.
“There are no bears in these nearby forests,” Peter said with a frown.
“I assumed it for your hypothetical scenario.”
“You can’t just assume things like that.”
“Oh, and you can just assume all Pristina knows is fighting?”
“Stop arguing you two,” Ran interrupted. “Let your sister do what she wants. She’s an adult now, she can take care of herself.” She deposited a bundle of blue cloth on Peter’s lap. “Here you go. That should be more than enough for whatever Pristina is making.”
Peter and Antei looked at the large bundle of cloth, tied up neatly with a yellow string. They looked at each other and then Peter turned to Ran.
“This will be too much aunt. Besides, we don’t have enough money for it.”
“Oh keep it. Consider it my gift to Pristina for her upcoming birthday.” She turned and walked to a wooden counter in the corner of the shop. Retrieving a booklet from a drawer, she logged in the amount of cloth she had just given Peter. “By the way, tell Anjelia that I got her the floral dress she wanted.”
Peter and Antei got up from the stool and walked to the door.
“I’ll tell her you said that,” Peter said. He and Antei then waved to Ran and exited the shop.
“Her fashion sense is weird but she sure is generous,” Antei said.
“Well, she is mum’s childhood friend.” Peter held the pouch of money Pristina had given him and shook it a little. The coins inside jingled. “Let’s buy whatever sugar half of this money will get us.”
They walked back to the market. It was bustling with people shopping for groceries. The village of Goldwall had a large population; had it not been for the establishment of Sherman to the west over the hills where all the rich and the elite had chosen to live, Goldwall would have been the central town in the region.
Merchants shouted their prices at the crowd of people bustling about, trying to get potential customers to buy from them. Men and women bargained loudly with the sellers – the price of cabbage was too high, you could get more potatoes for that money at the next stall, the apple had worms in it, the gourd was squishy, the fish was smelly, the other stall did removed the fat from the goat meat, no cream in milk.
Peter and Antei navigated their way through the crowd, gently pushing away people shouting passionately at the sellers.
“These are all vegetable and fruit stalls,” Antei said. “Where can we find sugar?”
“I don’t know. Last time I came here, they were selling sugar in these stalls,” Peter answered. “They seem to have switched places.”
Antei walked over to a stout man who was arguing with the seller over the price of radish. “Excuse me,” he said.
“What?” the man shouted. Antei winced as the loud voice pierced his ears.
“Could you direct me to the stall where they sell sugar?” he asked.
“Oh,” the man’s volume lowered. “I don’t know. They changed the stall locations last week.” The man turned to the seller he had been arguing with. “Do you know where they sell sugar and the likes?”
“The spice stalls moved nearer to the entrance gate,” the seller, a fair man with a thick moustache answered. “Now, do you wish to buy the radish or not?”
“Of course not! Your price is too expensive!”
Having heard the answer, Antei and Peter left the two men to argue over the radishes and walked away to where the spice stalls would be.
The entrance gate was a large wooden archway built two hundred years ago by the grandsons of Goldwall’s founder. It had been made of imported white wood from the Eastern kingdom. Despite being two hundred years old, the archway stood strong having weathered against twenty decades of rain and cold as was the climate in Goldwall most months of the year.
The marketplace covered a large area near the entrance. The two friends found the stalls they were looking for very close to the gate. Its owner was a brown skinned fat man, clean shaven and a head full of thick hair.
“Welcome. What are we looking to buy today? Salt? Pepper? Cumin powder? Garlic ginger paste?”
“We’re actually looking for some sugar.”
“Ah, sugar. We have brown sugar and the polished ones. Which one do you want?”
“The polished one. Give us five kilos of it.”
“Five kilos?” The man squeezed himself between two wooden tables, his bulging stomach sliding over the wood, and walked over to a sack containing sugar. He used a bowl to pour the sugar into a small paper bag. “Making some sweets?”
“It’s for blueberry pies.”
“Pies? Unless you’re baking ten of those, five kilos of sugar is too much.”
“We don’t know how much we’ll end up with. That’s why we’re buying so much of your sugar.”
“Ah well, can’t say no to good business.” He handed the paper bag to Peter. “That’ll be three hundred and seventy five.”
Peter handed over three gold, one silver, and five bronze coins to the man. He thanked Peter for the business and turned his attention to other customers who had walked to his stall.
Peter and Antei had walked onto the main road when they heard the sound of hooves. Turning around, they saw two grey steeds with a man and a woman on each galloping towards the entrance gate from outside the village. As the two riders approached nearer, Peter noticed that the man was middle-aged with grey hair and a stubble growing on his face while the woman was young, perhaps about his own age, and had green hair. They wore grey robes that matched the colour of their horses.
“Who are these people?” Antei asked.
“Beats me. Do you think they came from Sherman?”
“Probably. Although they look a bit like Easterners, don’t you think?”
Around them a crowd had gathered. They watched as the horses entered through the archway and slowed down to a trot. They came to a stop before a woman who was sitting on a bench by the side of the road. They must have asked her something for the woman on the bench nodded and pointed in the direction of the village centre. The man put two fingers to his forehead as a gesture of respect and then rode off towards the village centre with the green haired woman close behind him on her horse.
Peter felt a cool gush of wind as the two robed riders galloped past him. The crowd behind him soon lost interest in the receding figure and dispersed.
“What do you think they asked that woman?” Peter asked.
“She pointed towards the village centre so they must have asked her about the Elders,” Antei answered.
“They looked regal, didn’t they?”
“Anyone on a horse with robes like theirs would look regal.”
“I wonder what business they have with the Elders.”
“Maybe they’re from the Eastern Kingdom and wish to make some sort of a deal with Goldwall? Some trade deal?”
“If they were from the East, wouldn’t they have come to the village from the other side?”
“They could’ve gone to Sherman first from Turiya through the new route you told me about earlier this morning. Then, they came here.”
“Well, we won’t know for sure until the Elders tell us themselves.”
“That is very unlikely to happen. You know those old farts don’t tell anyone anything. On top of that they are going senile.”
“Senility aside, let’s head home. Mum must be waiting. She’ll kill us both if we take too much time.”
“Can I borrow some of your canvas when we reach your home?”
“Whatever for?”
“To make a drawing for your sister that she’s wanted since five years ago. If I forget to gift her a drawing on her birthday this year too, she won’t let me live in peace.”
“Okay, take as much as you want. Let’s just get home first.”
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