《Ruben the Wanderer》


 Chapter 1

    Today was a day like all of his rest: pen then sword, then lunch, then study. After lunch it wasn¡¯t always just ink and paper, but no matter what it was, it was always, when you broke it down a little, just study. Yes, today was the same lacklustre day that Ruben¡¯s father would say he¡¯s privileged to have, and his mother would just expect him to do. Except it wasn¡¯t.


    Today Ruben would find out if he was accepted into Wander Academy. The best school for studying paths, the ways of magic.


    He was sure he''d passed, but needed to see it to beleive it. The exam tested stuff he''d studied under different tutors when he was still ten. He was fifteen now.


    Ruben was a boy of outstanding nobility, and little taste for it. He rose early, always catching the moon¡¯s last breath, and the sun¡¯s first kiss. He practiced his pen and sword more than a boy should when his kingdom was at peace, and there be no women for him to court. And he studied. For hours and hours, every day, he studied.


    Truly, Ruben was unhappy with his life. He would look longingly towards the piano room between jabs and jives, each snuck glance always quickly tailed by a forward cut or palm strike from whoever was teaching him the blade that day. They never hurt him, obviously, it was just chiding. As if to say music didn¡¯t matter, this did. Ruben believed them to be fools. That¡¯s why he told no one, other than his fiddle master, that he¡¯d even applied to Wander.


    Ruben didn¡¯t want to play the piano, that was just the excuse he¡¯d use to be allowed to go to the music room. What he really loved, what he really wanted to play, was the fiddle his fiddle master had left behind. It was rugged and honest, everything nobility wasn¡¯t.


    It was funny, the most dangerous thing in Ruben¡¯s life was the very thing stopping anything from ever hurting him. He was royalty. Wealthy families, their substance was just silver, but they were magnets for land, resources, and influence, and there was the king¡¯s iron lining Ruben¡¯s family¡¯s pockets.


    He wanted none of it, Ruben loved the freedom that music gave him, with a few notes, he could explore a world of sound. What more could learning paths give him?


    This is why he never cared to study for upper society. He had more fun sneaking into the local villages in disguises, playing for scraps than going to courts to play for favours. But he''d been caught more times than he liked doing it, leading to beatings that drew blood from the only person that could do it smiling. the person sitting opposite of him. His mother, Hana, the Dutchess of Gruir.


    ¡°How was Banim?" She asked. "He is set to be the next big thing you know, his recent paper on conjectures for mathematical bijections between space and light has all the nobles talking.¡± She didn''t care about Ruben''s answer, she just wanted to showcase how grand a tutor Banim was. His mother was bitter tonguedtoday, most likely because she''d only just returned from the courts recently. Normally she was short tempered and hot angered. But the betrayals and sly slurs of courts usually soothed her.


    ¡°I hated him.¡± Ruben replied. His father, who was sat between them at the head of the table, raised his eyebrows. The nasal of her voice grated him. He was finding it harder and harder to even be civil around his mother. Ruben would obey her still- his skin couldn''t candle too many beatings-but that didn¡¯t mean he¡¯d be noble about it.Soon she wouldn''t matter anyway, he''d have his fiddle and a world to play for.


    If he got into Wander, he¡¯d gain the Sigel of freedom itself. All students of Wander gained the King¡¯s blessing, they were allowed to roam anywhere, only answering to thethe academy and king.


    Ruben imagined becoming a man of the world like Jesp, his fiddle master. Gaining wild stories, ail aided bouts, lustful nights. Ruben wanted to livefree of the burden''s of ruling.


    Jesp had even hinted that Wanderers loved art. In cities like Levenshawn they had buildings bigger than castles dedicated to paintings, compositions, sculptures, runes and potions. Money would be thrown at masterpiece after masterpiece.


    She wanted him to become the king¡¯s advisor or maybe a black star General, not a Wanderer. Everytime he told her those were lifeless jobs she ignored him, just booking him more lessons. If he got into Wander, he¡¯d extend the king''s Sigil to leverage freedom from his mother, not even the royal guards could do anything to someone with the King¡¯s blessing. Who would be her trinket to show off then?


    The utility of a wanderer was too tumultuous, sometimes they were gold, inventing airships, and carriages powered by paths, but other times they would kill entire villages, steal from dukes, burn churches down. Some were too powerful, feared by armies and gentiles alike, but all were arcane: they knew secret deadly things.Ruben didn''t like that. More wanderers should be helping villages he always thought. With even a fraction of what he heard they could do he could probably catch enough game to feed a village. What if wanderers where just like the courts he feared. Distracted by shiny things; too blinded to see those in need of help. In this, he wanted to be like his father.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Ruben¡¯s father, Honor, Duke of Emerald was a good man. Maybe the only one of his kind in the entire royal lines.He was a man of the people, spending most of his time, fixing as many problems as he could in his dutchey. He travelled it relentlessly. He believed a king must know his people to know their needs, and even more so for a duke like he.


    But in life everything is sacrifices, to inspire the boys of gentiles, you may end up forsaking your own. Dinners where Ruben¡¯s father could reach the table to eat with Ruben and his mother were rare.


    And Ruben feared for his father''s health, he''d hear of him staying with in infirmatories to see what was truly needed.


    When he was younger and his father wouldn¡¯t return for upto weeks at a time, Ruben might have cried or waited at the window for him. Now he made sure to cherish the time he got.


    ¡°Father, I wrote a song this week, can I play it to you after dinner?¡± Ruben¡¯s voice was fragile, he could never talk about his music straight.


    Ruben¡¯s Mother sneered, ¡°Have you been slacking off with that fiddle of yours again? I asked the butler and he said he hasn¡¯t heard the piano played in weeks.¡± She¡¯d bought the piano after his father introduced him to Jesp and his fiddles, she said it would be more ''appropriate''. No doubt piano was popular in the courts now.


    Ruben¡¯s mother looked accusingly at Ruben, ¡°If that fiddler of yours is distracting you I might have to do something about it.¡±


    Ruben gritted his teeth. The letter would arrive atsunset and he could finally be free of this wretched women. She wasn¡¯t even his blood mother, just an opportunistic noble who took advantage of a grieving widow. The past five years with her wereunbearable. He often missed his mother. His real mother was the moon and the stars, his current one was just the darkness of the night.


    ¡°I would love to son.¡± Honor looked to Ruben heartily, then slid his eyes to cast a disapproving look to his wife.


    ¡°What do you say to this, I¡¯ll only be at the castle for today and tomorrow, how about you play me the music you¡¯ve been working on today, we have a good ol¡¯ fence after and then go hunt some game tomorrow morning? I asked Gorman to bring Jesp too, I like to beat you both together in the field,¡± Ruben¡¯s father laughed, winking to him. Gorman was their butler. Ruben¡¯s father must have planned ahead for this day, Jesp was notorious for being near impossible to get a hold of.


    Ruben¡¯s eyes lit up. He rarely got to spend time with his father, but whenever they did, his father made sure it was special. Ruben¡¯s father was a good man. Stuck between serving a kingdom and serving his family, he tried hard to do both.


    Ruben knew his father¡¯s heart never burned for his Hana. Maybe once, when they met there was flickering, but she was no flame, their fires couldn¡¯t feed off of each other. She was poison, and after five years that was becoming all too obvious.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have Gorman bring some primeberry wine and nectum, shall we say fiddle room at sunset? One of the maids will call for you.¡±


    ***


    The post carrier would come to the castle first, usually around sunset before heading anywhere else. But when the carrier arrived there was more than just one mail. Both with the King¡¯s stamp and both addressed to Mr Clearsight. The king addressed no one below him with rank, so either mail could be for him or his father.


    Ruben rarely got mail so never had to deal with the issue of identifying which mail was his. He tried to weight both out and guess what kind of mail Wander would send. Would the sigil of freedom come with the mail or did you earn that later? Maybe tools of a wanderer would be in it, what kind of tools would they have? Ruben¡¯s head started to hurt from all the thinking and in frustration more than anything else ripped one open at random.


    Out fell a stain yellow paper. It was rough with texture and character. The kind you¡¯d expect from scrolls and grandfatherly books. Ruben¡¯s heart started to race, this must be the kind of paper aWanderers would use. His tense hands tried to straighten the paper to read it.


    To Honor Clearsight,


    This is a formal court mandate and temporal suspension of all land, gold, and property owned by Honor Clearsight for acts of treason, heresy and conspiration against one¡¯s King.


    You are advised to prepare a legal defence. The king¡¯s taxes or gold may not be used in payments until all cases are dismissed.


    You have one week to reach King¡¯s Cord, else all charges on you are defaulted to true, and your life on warrant.


    It took Ruben seven seconds to realised he¡¯d been stuck staring at the paper.


    Ruben¡¯s hands were gripping the letter so tight it was taut enough to tear. He was shaking. This couldn¡¯t be. His father was a beloved duke and more importantly, a good man.


    He shakily remember the was yet more mail. Now the same king¡¯s stamp struck fear into his heart.


    He tentatively opened it, as if it was his prior aggression that brought forth such tragedy. When the paper was free, it looked just as textured and wise, but came in a light green, like the paper wasn¡¯t any color at all, just a faint glow under sunlight. And the ink wasn¡¯t black like ink, more black like the absence of things.


    It was grand and mystical. Such theatrics would usually spark questions and wonder into Ruben¡¯s mind, much like art and music. But not now. He found the green sickening. The black heartless.


    The letter had 15 words.


    What fate, what delight.


    You have eight days to reach Wisdom Hart


    So, take flight.


    He¡¯d been accepted into Wander.

 Chapter 2

    Ruben rushed back to the castle. He passed the servants that¡¯d usually collect from the carrier, but had no time to explain himself to them. He¡¯d been waiting for the carrier at the gated outskirts so it took several minutes to reach the castle, and several more to make it to the music room.


    His father was sat by the piano and beamed a wide grin when Ruben entered.


    ¡°Father! Father!¡± Ruben heaved for breath, ¡°Something terrible happened you must run,¡±


    ¡°Surely running can wait? I¡¯ve waited months to hear you play, are you going to keep a Duke, your father, waiting?¡± Ruben¡¯s father chuckled.


    ¡°No father, it¡¯s important, the king¡­ the king¡¯s going to¡­ he wants you at King¡¯s Cord,¡± Ruben struggled for words. He was panicking. Why would the king do a court summon for his father? What treason could his father possibly be capable of?


    ¡°Calm down son. What¡¯s in your hand there?¡± Ruben¡¯s father looked caringly to him.


    As if just remembering, Ruben thrust the mail to his father. The paper¡¯s ink was much clearer than he.


    ¡°Ah, is that your Wander acceptance letter?¡± his father winked.


    Ruben was shocked, but his father was a duke after all.


    ¡°No, father read it quick, please!¡±


    Ruben¡¯s father casted Ruben a concerned look. Ruben rarely showed this much emotion.


    He slowly opened up the letter. The hiss of rough hands on a rough sheet, the crackle of un-crinkling.


    The king never done court summons to dukes, they were like family, all matters settled behind closed doors. At best this was a public humiliation, at worst¡­ Ruben didn¡¯t want to think of that.


    His father¡¯s hands started to quiver and his eyes went wide.


    Ruben had only ever seen his father worried once, and that was when his mother had died. He looked just like that now.


    He wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. But even though their relationship was nurturing, they rarely spent any time together. Ruben didn¡¯t know how to be intimate. He reached out awkwardly to give his father a hug.


    ¡°This¡­¡± His father faltered.


    Ruben stopped with his arms extended. Was he overstepping his boundaries? Yes, it was his father, but he was a duke after all.


    ¡°Is just one of Jesp pranks.¡± Ruben¡¯s father laughed. He looked Ruben up and down, ¡°And he and I seem to have got you fooled completely boy,¡±


    Ruben stuttered, he hadn¡¯t realised how tense his body was. He must have looked like a mess to his father. He wasn¡¯t convinced yet.


    ¡°But father it has the royal stamp.¡±


    ¡°Ah that¡¯s not too hard for someone like Jesp to forge. Aaah,¡±


    What did that mean, Ruben thought. Believed Jesp to be a wanderer, but he never managed to ask. He didn¡¯t want to risk any of the castle staff overhearing his interest in such ¡®crude¡¯ endeavours. Jesp talked about a full life lived, he¡¯d played his fiddle all over the kingdom. To think a man like that studied at Wander too¡­


    ¡°Was there more mail?¡± His father asked, eyeing his bulging pocket.


    Ruben had slowly been calming down, but was still shaken by the question. It was hard to accept it was just a prank, the stamp looked exactly how he remembered it from whenever he¡¯d seen the king¡¯s banners. What if the Wander letter was fake too? Would Jesp really do that? Ruben¡¯s heart started to race.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    He took the second letter out of his pocket and handed it to his father.


    Ruben¡¯s father¡¯s eyes lit up as soon as he saw the green of the page. He handled the paper much more delicate this time and scanned the paper quickly.


    ¡°Yes, my boy! You¡¯ll be a great man now. Follow your own path, I say.¡± Ruben¡¯s father chuckled loudly. This was not the reaction Ruben expected.


    Ruben¡¯s father saw the shock clear on Ruben¡¯s face. Embarrassed he coughed once and sorted his clothes that had become befuddled in his jest.


    ¡°You see boy, all dukes are obliged to steer their young in service of the kingdom, I had to make you study as my father did I. And with your mother around, she¡¯d have nothing less than you getting the best of educations.¡± The duke sighed once more. ¡°But life in castles isn¡¯t as golden as it looks, something I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve come to know.¡±


    Ruben couldn¡¯t remember the last time he done something because he wanted to. Sure, he would never starve, but would he ever live either?


    ¡°But with Wander? Only the king himself can order you, you¡¯ll be a free man, just like Jesp.¡±


    With the look in his father¡¯s eyes, this was the first time Ruben questioned how his father knew Jesp before he started learning music.


    But it didn¡¯t matter too much. His father was safe. Jesp was missing and he was going Wander, today was almost like the rest, but much better. And he had a feeling he¡¯d see many more interesting days as a Wanderer.


    Ruben avoided telling his mother until the last moment that he was leaving for wander. He didn¡¯t avoid her, he just didn¡¯t have the time to find her, and he was busy avoiding her.


    Packing took very long. His father joined him in his room as he was finishing off.


    ¡°Here.¡± Ruben¡¯s father said. He handed Ruben three rings. One gold, one emerald with a deep blue dot at the centre of its face, and one pure black.


    ¡°This is a sort of a new family tradition, my father did it to my when I became duke.¡±


    Ruben knew his grandfather was a great warrior that aided the king well. He gained the duchy as a reward when they were splitting the land after conquest. He¡¯d heard legendary stories about his grandfather, but mainly as tales his true mother would say to sooth him before she died.


    ¡°Each ring matters, each one much more than the previous. Never openly wear the first two,¡± He said.


    It sounded odd that the most important was the one that people could steal. Ruben put the black ring on his finger. It was oddly cold, like it¡¯s temperature was absolute and any ambient heat was irrelevant. He marvelled at it¡¯s purity, it looked truly black and he couldn¡¯t quite work out its material.


    His father had always shielded him from being spoilt, and Ruben grew up never asking for much.


    The king favoured dutchys with fewer wanderers. And in Ruben¡¯s father¡¯s dutchy there were virtually none. The king¡¯s favoured would be like walking with wads of cash through the courts, getting the best seats at dinners, having more say on any issues. Honor was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Yet, the spoilt behaviour of other rulers and youth sickened both Ruben and his father.


    Ruben hated even more the women of the court. They¡¯d approached him, expecting lavish dates and gifts. He avoided the courts at all cost, but it meant he lacked friends there too.


    Ruben thought to reject the gifts as he would gifts from other nobles when they tried to curry favour, but thought better of it. This was a father¡¯s honour in a way. His father wouldn¡¯t do this unless it was important. ¡°Father, what if I lose them?¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t.¡± He replied immediately. Whether it was a declaration or good faith Ruben did not know. It didn¡¯t matter then. He would not lose them.


    ¡°The gold is a gift of wealth; you may sell it. The emerald is gift of status. At the academy you may not share your identity with anyone. If anyone finds out your identity and you do not know theirs, you are both expelled.¡± His father said sternly. Then he mused wistfully, ¡°But sometimes royal blood is useful,¡±


    This was too much news at once for Ruben. If there was any time to ignore propriety it was now. He had many questions but he chose to start at the root of it. ¡°How do you know so much about the Wanderers father?¡± His father never ventured outside the dutchy. Why would he know so much about wanderers customs?


    His father gave a reproachful look. ¡°They travel my land freely,¡± he said, ¡° As a duke, it is my responsibility to know everything going on in my land.¡±


    Ruben didn¡¯t like that answer. It was the kind of minced words he knew him and his father hated equally. Something felt off but his father already didn¡¯t like the questioning. He tried once more, he liked to follow his gut on these things. ¡°Have you met many wanderers father¡­¡± he paused for a second, ¡°Is jesp a wanderer?¡±


    Ruben could have sworn he saw his father twitch. It took a moment for his father to respond.


    ¡°He¡¯s travelled all the land with that fiddle of his. I¡¯m sure he has stories he hasn¡¯t told you,¡± a forced chuckle came a moment late, an attempt to ease some tension. Why was this such a awkward topic?


    He should have been excited, Jesp, one of the greatest men he¡¯d ever met, might be a wanderer. And now he was becoming one too. But all Ruben could feel was a concerned knot tie up in his stomach. Something wasn¡¯t right.


    ¡°Anyway, you can ask him yourself tomorrow. I¡¯ll have him take you to Wander himself.¡±


    It took Ruben hours more to finish packing. Obviously, they couldn¡¯t catch game tomorrow, he¡¯d only have seven days left to reach Wander. As he tried to sleep that night, excitement and worry fought to keep him awake in equal measures.

 Chapter 3

    ¡°Chirp, chirp.¡±


    ¡°Chirp, chirp.¡±


    Ruben slowly stirred to waking, he would usually wake up naturally, but he couldn¡¯t ignore the birds singing outside his window. Then he remembered he had no window in his room. Ruben¡¯s eyes snapped open to see where the sound was coming from.


    ¡°Good morning chap.¡± A short man, rotund and balding, was crouching above him. This was Jesp. How he managed to get on the bed without him noticing Ruben couldn¡¯t help but question.


    ¡°Wonder and women await boy, you might just finally put all that fiddling to use.¡± Jesp winked a crude wink.


    Jesp smelled of berries, beers and bushes. He usually wore simple clothes, the kind for laymen, except he always had something extreme. Ruben remembered having to endure lessons with feathered hats shedding and fish scale necklaces blinding him. Today Jesp stood out not from what he wore, but what he didn¡¯t. He had a travel vest with no shirt underneath and some khaki shorts. His chest and large stomach was out in the open.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡± asked Ruben excitedly.


    ¡°Everywhere but here.¡±


    ¡°Any new stories for me?¡± Ruben smiled. That was how they often greeted each other where Ruben would almost always have none.


    ¡°Oh. Yes actually, I met a boy recently,¡± Jesp started, ¡°He told me he always wanted to ride the clouds, but he¡¯d always been told you can¡¯t. One day he took me out to the forest and climbed the biggest tree he could find¡­¡±


    Jesp paused for a short moment and Ruben jumped in to finish the guesses. ¡°he was a wanderer? Did he fly?¡±


    ¡°He crashed down, accelerating at the same rate as a feather and died.¡±


    ¡°That didn¡¯t happen to you!¡± Ruben protested. Only real stories were allowed. Or wonderous. Real or wonderous.


    ¡°But it could happen to you, your about to try and fly Ruby, but make sure you learn to actually fly first.¡±


    They tried to catch up, it¡¯d had been months that they were departed, then they prepared to leave.


    ¡°Where¡¯s father? Isn¡¯t he going to see me off?¡± Ruben asked.


    ¡°I informed him of some questionable folk in one of the villages terrorising, he needed to go sort things out in person.¡±


    Ruben was disappointed but used to it. In a way going to Wander would be no different to how things already were. He¡¯d still only see his father a few times a year.


    As the last few things were packed, Ruben remembered he still had yet to say bye to his mother. But with Wander he could afford to live life on his terms now he thought. An idea crossed his mind.


    ¡°One sec,¡± he said to Jesp, rushing back up the stairs into his room. He got a pen, and rushed further to the piano room. One of the maids were cleaning and he pleaded them out of the room.


    On the piano he begun to engrave, each letter deeper than the last.


    I¡¯ll be free like a song.


    Even the king will hear me.


    And your ears will ache.


    Love


    Ruben.


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    Ruben felt bad, but it also felt like a huge load had left his shoulders.


    Ruben and Jesp made haste to Levenshwarn. They travelled by carriage, often through the day and night. Ruben didn¡¯t know how much sleep Jesp got during the journey, but he was sure it wasn¡¯t much. During the days Jesp would watch over Ruben as he led the carriage, showing him how to lead the horses, prepare their food, use compasses and other survival skills. Ruben found it odd Jesp never used a map, whenever he asked about it Jesp would just say it¡¯d slow them down, he knew Ruben¡¯s father¡¯s duchy like the back of his hand. At night Ruben would rest at Jesps insistence, ¡°You need to be fresh on arrival he¡¯d say, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± This all meant Ruben didn¡¯t know much of where they were ever. He saw villages he¡¯d never seen, mountains, forests.


    After six days they arrived in a town Jesp named Havinan. It was almost as busy as a small city, with towered housing overflowing with people, shops on every corner and the haste of people trying to get things done.


    Jesp said they needed to get resources here so they had to weave the streets on foot. Ruben watched how the paths somehow got busier as they neared the town¡¯s centre.


    Ruben¡¯s shoulder collided with the gut of a man carrying stacks of materials and textures. Ruben stumbled backwards then fell on his backside as the other much bigger man fumbled all his materials, dropping them. The hordes of people rushing round meant they were soon trampled by passers-by, ruining them.


    The large man, immediately grew angry, he snapped his head to Ruben and charged at him yelling. ¡°Those cost me 3 whole silvers you rat. You better pay up or I¡¯ll have your ears off.¡±


    Jesp begun to stop the man, then with a smirk stepped out the way, like he was just a spectator in the whole ordeal.


    Ruben, grew anxious. He scrambled to his feet and put his hands out trying to calm the man. If this was training he could fall on instinct to control the situation, but in training they had swords. He had no idea what to do with his hands when he didn¡¯t have a sword.


    The man grabbed Ruben¡¯s shirt and Ruben¡¯s mind scrambled for an answer to the provocation. When none came, he watched the man¡¯s other hand clench to fist, it was firm and large like basalt. It jabbed towards him.


    Ruben¡¯s mind stirred to conscious. He leaned back, dodging the jab like you would a knife reaching for your throat and his left leg swept at the man¡¯s leading foot, ruining his base of stability, sweeping him fallen.


    ¡°Aaah, so all of those sword guys your father paid for weren¡¯t doing nothing.¡± Jesp said, already walking away from the scene.


    The big man sat on the floor nursing his ankle. Ruben wanted to help him, it was his fault that the man got angry anyway. He would have paid the guy if he could have and if the man had actually given him a chance to. It didn¡¯t matter either way, he had no coins on him. Ruben cursed he¡¯d never studied under a physiker or even those street shamans.


    Ruben quickly bowed , ¡°Sorry, if we meet again, I¡¯ll pay you for the material. I swear.¡± And then he rushed after Jesp. He could feel daggered eyes pressed on his back but kept running after Jesp.


    Ruben lost sight of Jesp several times while running through the crowded streets. He was tall for his age and Jesp was small for all ages so he¡¯d get to odd glimpse down to bobbing bald head speedily approaching who knows what. How could something so round move so fast? He¡¯d sometimes think to himself.


    Jesp only stopped moving when he reached a tall shady looking building a road off of where the town seemed busiest. He stood admiring it as Ruben caught up. It was wooden all the way up, with purple banners and signs listing what it sold plastered here and there. Herbs, elixirs, spices, enchantments it seemed to specialise in gypsy medicines.


    ¡°Jesp why didn¡¯t you help me?¡±


    ¡°You said you wanted an adventure,¡±


    ¡°¡­ no I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well you should have. You¡¯re a free man now Ruben, you need to do some wandering. Not in here though, don¡¯t steal anything,¡± Jesp gave a look as though he just remembered who he was talking to. ¡°Actually, just don¡¯t embarrass me.¡±


    They entered the store. It was a tight fit, with walls tiled with hundreds of pouches of, each labelled with a different powder or plant. On counters lied vials of purple and green and orange. It looked like the kind of place phisikers would go for supplies, except much less clean.


    The shopkeeper stood at the front counting money. ¡°How can I help you?¡± She asked.


    We¡¯re here to trade.


    Ruben suddenly realised what Jesp wanted to do. His father had told him, they¡¯d need to exchange the gold ring for coins, but he¡¯d never expected to do it somewhere so¡­ questionable.


    ¡°Ooh, what you wanna trade?¡± she purred.


    ¡°A ring, pure gold.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± her eyes glimmered, ¡°I¡¯ll need to inspect it¡­¡±


    ¡°Those hands of your can inspect me and nothing else.¡± Jesp done a lazy wink and Ruben almost vomited. ¡°Besides,¡± Jesp continued, ¡°Nothing down here is worth the lye on the stick of my boots.¡±


    The shopkeeper¡¯s eyebrows raised at Jesp¡¯s last few words, Ruben noticed. She said nothing as she walked towards a staircase that Ruben hadn¡¯t seen until now.


    ¡°Come then,¡± Said the shopkeeper.


    They started to approach.


    ¡°Not the child.¡±


    Ruben was offended, he¡¯d seen fifteen full years, but he didn¡¯t really care much for a money exchange.


    Just like that Ruben once again lost sight of Jesp. After what seemed forever he reappeared.


    ¡°How much did you get?¡± Ruben asked Jesp as they walked out of the store.


    ¡°More than you¡¯re ready to know,¡±


    Ruben feared it was a crude joke but was disturbed to find no accompanying wink.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you it all at the academy.¡±