As she crossed their gate, she stared, bewitched by the large moat which doubled as an irrigation system for the fields. The water sloshed by calmly on either side of the wall, allowing easy access to fresh water for the civilians. They must have dug a canal around their city and lined it with tile. It probably took years to complete. She followed the flow of the water until it was out of sight, and it must have led back to the river they originally dug it from. This Capitol sure was incredible.
It was much better kept and organized than the Cance town. The roads were tiled rocks rather than dirt and weren't as crowded. There were guards every couple of feet keeping watch. The merchants were soft spoken and clean cut, and their food didn't reek of old age. The Lord even allowed animans to buy and sell here, so long as they had the ability to speak the human language, it seemed.
The girl reached into her skirt pouch and counted twenty gils. It was uncommon for a girl of her age to have so much money, especially an animan, so she made a point of not showing it off. As an official traveler, she held tight to the importance of money.
She needed to make these gils stretch. A loaf of bread would cost three gils and could last a few days, maybe even a week. A jug of water would be five or six gils depending on who she purchased it from. And she needed to buy a sprig of medicinal herb just in case she found herself in another tight spot with no priest boy to rescue her. But that would cost at least eight gils, a price she was not willing to pay quite yet.
She sighed, remembering how easily the priest boy healed her nose with his spell and wishing she could learn it herself. She wished she could fight as confidently as the girl with the sharpened dagger. She looked down at her gloved hands, swallowing hard before clenching them tightly. She wished she could be anyone else, because she had no idea what she was.
And if it's out of her understanding, then she just has to be a monster.
She shook the thought form head. Right now all she had to worry about was where she’s going to find her next meal.
Walking to the closest stall, the warm smell of baked yeast rose to her nostrils. Her stomach churned, begging her to dive into the pile of bread and devour it all. But proper etiquette prevented her from doing it, so she smiled kindly at the vendor instead. He was an animan with scaly iridescent skin, and his smile was toothless. His scales reminded her of greasy coins.
"Some bread, young lady?"
She nodded shyly. "How much for a single loaf?"
"Five gils."
"Five?!" she sputtered out in surprise, her stomach roaring in protest. She cringed, embarrassed for how explosive it was.
The kind smile slid off the baker's mouth, and he turned to her with pity instead. "How long since you've last eaten, young one?"
She turned away. That was a rude question to ask and, frankly, wasn't any of his business. But her rumbling tummy demanded she tell him. "A few days." she muttered unwillingly.
The vendor slithered his forked tongue. "Poor thing, you aren't even lying."
Did he hiss at her to make sure she was telling the truth? She might be dirty and frail, but did she look so dishonest?
He must have noticed the disgust on her face and wanted to rid of her quickly. "Three gils then, if you have it."
That was like rubbing salt on a wound. "Never mind, I'll buy from someone else." She growled, and her stomach growled in objection.
The man raised his scaly eyebrows in surprise, not thinking she had the confidence to walk away from him as she did.
She pushed the rude man out of mind, looking for the next baker. There couldn't be just one in this massive Capitol, especially if it's known for its bread baking. But she didn't make it a few feet from the scaly baker's stall before someone ran into her, knocking them both to the ground with a crashing thud.
Her temple rebounded against the tiled floor making her head spin, but it quickly pulled together at an unmistakable sound. Coins letting loose on the ground, tingling quietly like summer crickets, rolling away from her. She felt to her pouch. It was empty. These were her gils.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
