Unexpected Hero

Charles gasped as he looked down at the items laid out over the long heavy table that he only a moment ago made his way over to. Trinkets from all over the world gleamed in front of him covered in jewels and precious metals he had only read about. His long snout rose up slowly to look at the merchant that owned the magnificent items, his whiskers twitching as the two made eye contact. Charles furry gray body and hairless tail shuddered as the yellow eyes of the amphibian met his, the merchant’s slimy green skin glistening in the sun that made its way under the canopy above them.

“This silver bit?” the opossum questioned, “How much for it?”

“Hmph, a thousand Geldons if you have nothing to trade” the merchant answered, looking down at the piece Charles desired, a cast of silver in the shape of a bear’s head with emeralds set into its eyes.

Charles considered this for a moment, he had very little currency, a bag full of old vegetables and fruits he had found in a waste pile behind the building the merchant had set up shop in front of and a thick gray cloak he wore around himself. A thousand Geldons was out of the question, and he was sure the frog would not accept the morning trash as payment for a piece of jewelry.

“What will a hundred get me?” Charles asked.

“A Geldar” The merchant scoffed, “I may part with the belt for that as well, looks like you could use a few more items to cover yourself with”.

“Deal!” Charles exclaimed all too enthusiastically, grabbing at the thick black leather belt at the end of the table as he slapped down the last handful of coins to his name.

Charles turned, his cloak swooshing around him, and began making his way down the wide road that contained nearly a thousand vendors being run by hundreds of merchants. Clothing from distant lands hung as far as the eye could see, along with piles of artefacts and trinkets, weapons piled high with full suits of armor looking down upon them. Exotic drinks and foods filled the air with a sweet savory aroma, mixing with the bundles of incense and scented waxes that Charles loved so much.

He approached a vendor an odd assortment of items, mostly pots of clay that could be used to hold everything from water to a small fortune in Geldons. It was the glass bowls that caught Charles’ attention though, streaked with blues and purples, that fascinated anyone who gazed upon them. Pieces that he imagined could sit in the halls of the royal kings that ruled the lands around the bazaar.

“The purple bowl” Charles stated, meeting the eyes of the large humanoid merchant across the table from him, “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty” the man spoke in a surprisingly schooled tone, “My wife pours her heart into those while I make these silly clay pots”.

“Would your wife like for your pants to stay up?” Charles questioned, looking down at the man’s left index finger wrapped into the loop of his pants, as he held up the leather belt he had acquired.

“Take the belt Horus!” a woman’s voice sounded from behind him, “I’ll not go another day watching your trousers hanging down that low”

The large man chuckled as he grasped onto the belt and held it up to examine it, he nodded in approval as he did so, pushing the beautiful purple glass bowl over to the front so Charles may do the same. The opossum held the bowl up carefully and mimicked the mans motions pretending he knew what he was doing and what to look for.

“Deal” the man stated, reaching a hand out to meet Charles.

Charles fumbled around with the bowl for a moment before reaching up to meet the handshake with a grin. It was a powerful handshake as he had expected, causing him to wince for a moment before turning and finding his way back in the middle of the merchant’s road, clutching at the delicate piece of artwork he had just acquired.

“What an odd little man” Joseph the merchant said to himself in a low tone.

Massive paws thumped against the ground and rattled the frames of every stand in a hundred yards as a chimera shown its lion and goat heads out of an alley way that led down into the animal pens. It was as tall as the buildings that surrounded it and as long as a house and a half. Casting a massive shadow over the street in front of Charles as it strode out amongst the merchants. Massive wyvern wings spread out to reveal the beast’s lion body and serpent tail, a figure of power amongst the small shop keeps.

Charles gazed up at the monster of an animal for a moment before ducking his head low and continuing on his way, showered in long hairs that stuck to his cloak and face as he did so. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he took one last look at the Chimera, its magnificence something of another world, as was its price. The hairs were stiff and warm, something he could pack into his travel pillow he kept on the outskirts of town, so he decided to shove them in a large pocket instead of discarding them.

‘Hello little opossum, my name is Jameson “a large grey fox bellowed, licking his lips, “what can I do for you on such a bright, hot day?”

“This bowl” he responded, offering it up to the fox, “do you have something more practical I could trade it for?”

“Let me have a look” Jameson responded, taking up the bowl and holding it close to one of his yellow eyes.

The fox’s table was exquisite, some of the finest woodwork Charles had ever seen, and by the looks of the six fat pups behind him he had no trouble affording it. Jameson held the bowl close to his face, eyeing it up as a jeweler would look over a gold ring or exotic stone. He growled softly as he looked over every inch of the bowl, pulling an odd tool out at one point, one made of a large piece of glass attached to a short handle that required him to lean in even closer.

“This is worth two hundred Geldons, Ill do no more, Ill do no less, it will be a great bedside piece” Jameson finally announced after his long examination.

‘Two hundred?” Charles questioned, “Surely its worth three hundred”.

“Little opossum” Jameson chuckled, “its two hundred unless you would like to play a game”.

“A game?” Charles questioned enthusiastically.

“Yes, one of three, one is riches, one is poverty, and one is death” the fox spoke gazing deep into Charles’ black eyes.

Time stopped, the merchants went silent, and the traders froze in step and speech, suddenly it was just Charles and Jameson staring back at each other. The fox raised up a weathered leather bag from under the table between them and dumped out a handful of coins, some shiny and gold or silver while others were worn to greens and blacks, even a bright red coin rest amongst them. Jameson picked three coins out and set them evenly spaced out in front of Charles on the grainy wood of the table as he hunched low to gaze upon them like a predator.

‘What are the other coins for?” Charles questioned.

“Higher stakes, blessings to some but curses to others” Jameson answered, “most have not been used since the last great war”.

“The last great war, there was more than one?” Charles questioned.

‘Yes!” the fox said, laughing loudly before giving Charles a hard look, “One of riches, one of poverty, one of death, now choose one”.

Charles looked down at the three coins laid out before him, one of gold, one of silver, and one of rock. They were not alike, the gold coin being perfectly round like one of currency, nearly a work of art. The silver coin was an octagon, still well made with a beautiful polish on it that gleamed in the torches that were fixed to the front of the vendor. The rock was jagged at first sight, the shape of a thick coin with grooves and notches in it, groves and notches that Charles noticed were made by the hand of a man.

He looked down at the coins as the world around them stood still and silent, a shimmering barrier separating the merchant and his prey from reality. Jameson tracked the movement of his paws as they fidgeted around the end of the table. The heaps of jewels and trinkets left Charles’ vision as he focused on the task in front of him, gold, silver, and stone consuming his mind.

“You’re a man of culture, or I am dead” Charles finally stated, “Gold is death, there is no concept of riches for the man with gold, the man with a stone finds a stone more valuable”

“Interesting’ the fox said in a low tone.

“Silver is poverty, you buy silver when you cannot afford gold, and gold is what the poor dream of” Charles said, “the crafted stone though, that man requires gold nor silver”

“Well done little opossum” Jameson stated with a sneer, “So which will you take?”

“The stone” Charles answered, “they made the Faris wall from stone for a reason”.

“Stone it is” Jameson said with a chuckle, ‘you’re one of Violets minions”.

The stone coin was flipped by the foxes’ long claws to reveal five Geldars, five hundred Geldons was far more than the opossum had ever had to his name. He scooped them up with a smirk before turning on a heel and making his way away from the fox as fast as he could, the barrier breaking as he did so. The street erupted with sound and movement, Charles disappearing into the crowd with his earnings.

Charles’ pockets jingled as he made his way down the wide road, the chimera roaring far behind him, and violet on his mind. The Nymph had found him in the Agathok forest after the last war while he was scavenging in a large garden. She was so kind, beautiful in the way humans were but with blue skin and a set of light fairy wings on her back. There was a scar on her face, right above her left eye Charles remembered, as she told him what she needed him to do.

A trinket he thought, one that looked like a bear with those jewels set into it he was sure, but why would she want such a simple trinket. He was sure that was what she wanted as he pulled himself up into an unattended hay wagon. Charles nestled in, wrapping his coins in his cloak and using it as a blanket before he drifted off to sleep.