Chapter 122: A Lost Soul

Unlike most shopkeepers, who waited hours after a sandstorm to reopen their stalls, there was one shopkeeper who took extra care to make sure his stall reopened as soon as possible after a sandstorm. One could never know when a traveler would pass through, and it would be unfair to make them wait to restock their items merely because no one was around to sell them anything.

That in mind, this shopkeeper also took care to make sure he had the most basic of items available for sale. Of course, a good portion of the time he avoided from selling most of his wares, as his fellow shopkeepers were jealous folk who would blame him for stealing customers if anything more than his typical trade was seen out in the open. However, right after sandstorms, he had everything from potions to basic accessories to more extravagant weapons available for sale. (He was considering selling some of those weapons to the weapons vendor across the street, however, since he had yet to find an interested customer, and it was a shame to let them sit and rot in his stall, when the weapons vendor might have better luck selling them.)

The shopkeeper sat at his stall for quite some time without any customers stopping by. It wasn't a surprise, though. He very rarely got customers right after a sandstorm. He liked to keep his stall open though, just in case.

By the time he got his first customer there were plenty other people milling about, waiting for the rest of the stalls to open, not needing anything from him. But no matter, because there was someone heading his way: a boy, probably no older than fifteen, with ridiculously spiky hair and clothes that definitely belonged to somewhere else.

"Ah, a traveler!" the shopkeeper said, once the boy was close enough to hear him.

The boy stared at him, his left eye squinting slightly due to the scar that marred his face. The look in the boy's eyes was tired, at best, and he carried himself like he was exhausted and it was a burden merely to keep moving.

"I suppose I am…" the boy muttered.

"A warrior?" the shopkeeper asked, his eyes fixed firmly on the boy's scar. The boy would have to be a warrior to have gotten a scar like that, no matter how little he looked like he was a warrior. Most warriors were well equipped and looked prepared to face, well, anything. This boy looked more like he had just been wrenched from his home and thrown into the great unknown.

But that scar…

He was either a warrior, or just one really unlucky kid.

"Sure."

The shopkeeper was starting to get the feeling that the latter was more likely. However…

"May I interest you in some rare weapons?" he asked.

The boy shook his head.

"No thank you. I'm good."

The shopkeeper frowned. He had yet to meet a warrior who passed up the chance to look at weapons, if only just to admire them.

"But, certainly, you must need something to defend yourself with!"

Again, the boy shook his head.

Strange. The boy didn't even appear to be carrying any weapons. Or if he was, he couldn't have anything more than a simple dagger, something that he could easily conceal within his clothing.

Unless…

Of course!

The boy was probably a mage of sorts. Not that he looked like a mage, but, mages were typically good at hiding themselves. In fact, the boy that stood in front of him was probably just a disguise; the real mage lay underneath, using his magic to alter his appearance. And if he was a mage that great, then of course he had no use for weapons! They would be like play things to him; not even a match for his powers!

Then again, this boy could also very easily not be a mage and instead just be short of munny.

But how was the shopkeeper supposed to know?

It was more fun to speculate, anyway.

"Hmm…" The shopkeeper rummaged around in one of his crates for a moment, before coming up with two rings. He placed the first – silver with intricate purple markings – on the counter in front of him. "I have this rare ring that protects the wearer from dark magic."

They boy eyed it curiously for a moment, and then picked it up to examine it closer. Just as soon as he picked it up he dropped it, almost as if it had shocked him, though the shopkeeper couldn't tell for sure. The shopkeeper quickly caught it before it rolled onto the ground.

The boy laughed then, sounding a bit bitter.

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

"It is only 2000 munny, if you wish to try it out."

The boy shook his head.

"No thank you," he said, firmly, voice suggesting that he was not amused.

Maybe he was a black mage!

Ah, that made perfect sense! If he was skilled in dark magic, then of course he would think a ring that protects against it ridiculous. Most mages were like that. If an item protected against their magic, then they tended to think it laughable.

The shopkeeper placed the other ring – gold with intricate blue markings – on the counter. "What about its counterpart, which protects against light attacks?"

The boy looked even less interested.

"What else have you got?"

The shopkeeper dropped the rings back in their crate and gestured over at the display of his typical trade: potions, elixirs, and anything else of the sort.

The boy's eyes widened slightly in excitement – or… maybe it was relief.

"How much are elixirs?" he asked.

"50 munny apiece."

The boy's eyes got even wider, though he quickly winced. That scar still hurt, from the looks of things.

"That's cheap!"

The shopkeeper merely shrugged. "I had an over shipment."

"I'll take ten."

The shopkeeper nodded and pulled ten out of a crate behind him. After a second of thinking, he pulled out an eleventh. He set them all down on the counter, and the boy handed over the required munny before starting to shove the elixirs into his pockets, counting them as he went. The shop keeper watched with a smile as the boy picked up the eleventh elixir. The boy frowned at it for a second, then set it back down on the counter. He reached into his pocket, either to recount or to pull out more munny.

The shopkeeper held up a hand before he could do either.

"Special offer," he said, though he had come up with the so-called 'special offer' five seconds ago. "Buy ten, get one free."

The boy didn't quite look like he believed him.

"I'd drink it now, if I were you," the shopkeeper added, eyes flickering over the scar which he realized was not quite yet a scar on the boy's face. It was bleeding in a few places.

Understanding crossed the boy's face, and he smiled. The shopkeeper couldn't help but think it was shame the boy didn't smile more often. He had a nice smile.

The boy uncorked the elixir and downed it.

There weren't any noticeable changes, except that when the boy wiped the blood off his face (which he proceeded to wipe on his pants) no blood flowed to replace it. That, and the tired look in the boy's eyes had lessened slightly.

"Can I interest you in any ethers?" the shopkeeper asked.

"How much are they?"

"40 apiece."

The boy raised his eyebrows (not as much as the normal person would, but there was that scar to consider). "That seems like a lot for a mere ether."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "I have to sell them for more than the hi-potions."

The boy made a face.

"I'll take two."

The shopkeeper grabbed two out of a crate behind him and handed them over to the boy in return for the munny.

"How much are hi-potions?" the boy asked after a moment.

"30 apiece."

The boy was silent for a moment, before pulling more munny out of his pocket. "Go ahead and give me five."

The shopkeeper laughed slightly, and grabbed five out of a crate next to him.

"Would you like anything else?" he asked as he handed the hi-potions over to the boy.

The boy shook his head. "I think I'm good," he said.

The shopkeeper was about to bid him farewell, as the boy looked too tired to care about buying anything else, but something caught his attention. It was an odd nagging feeling; a feeling that he hadn't felt in quite some time. The feeling was, however, very familiar, and he knew exactly what was causing it. He turned to his crate of accessories, prepared to rummage around for a bit. He was surprised to find what he was looking for on the top, where it had not been previously.

"Eager to go, are you?" he asked it, quietly, picking it up and running his hands over it. It was a nice little trinket, star shaped and made out some sort of orange glass – beautifully crafted – and there was some sort of spell cast on it. He wasn't sure what kind of spell, as he had never met a mage who could tell him, but he still knew better than to argue with it. If the trinket, or rather, the spell on the trinket, was saying that it needed to go with this boy, then he was going to make sure it did just that.

Still, it was a shame to see it go…

"What about this?" he asked, holding it up for the boy to see. "It's rumored to be extremely lucky!"

The boy reached out to grab it, the pulled his hand back, looking a bit confused. The shopkeeper only smiled. The trinket had had the same effect on him when he first found it. He had found it buried in the sand, and had he not felt it tugging on his mind, he doubted that he would've even noticed it.

"Really now?" the boy asked, eyebrows raised.

The shopkeeper laughed.

"No," he admitted. "But ever since I've had it, I've been getting an over shipment of goods."

The boy stared at it for a few moments, looking very uncertain. The shopkeeper just held it there and said no more, letting the trinket do its magic.

"How much is it?" the boy asked finally.

"For you, 500 munny."

"For me?" The boy seemed suddenly skeptical. "What do you mean by that?"

The shopkeeper shrugged, trying not to let on to his real reason any more than he had to. He could still get some munny out of this. "I just think you could use a little luck, that's all."

"Then why don't you just give it to me for free?"

If the boy was going to continue like this, the shopkeeper wasn't really going to have a choice.

"If I give this to you," he explained, calmly, though he was making up this explanation as he went along. "I will most likely stop getting over shipments of goods. I think 500 munny is a fair deal. I should make you pay 600, but I figured that I could do without 100 munny."

The boy slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the 500 munny. The shopkeeper took the munny and placed the trinket on the counter, gently. The boy picked it up, turned it over in his hands a time or two, and then placed it in his pocket.

"Luck, huh?" he asked after a moment.

The shopkeeper nodded.

"I could probably use some luck…" The boy then laughed slightly, bitterly. "I don't think I could possibly describe anything that's-" He stopped, rather suddenly. The shopkeeper glanced up at him, a bit confused. The boy had froze, a look between disbelief and sheer shock on his face. He glanced over his shoulder, hesitantly, and then his mouth formed the word: "no".

He turned back to the shopkeeper, looking a bit frantic now.

"Listen, I know this is probably a really random question, but can I hide in your stall?"

The shopkeeper laughed. He had heard more random questions than that.

"Sure thing," he said.

The boy replied with a quick "thanks" before slipping into the stall and hiding himself behind the counter.

The shopkeeper made himself busy; organizing crates, rearranging bottles, doing his best not to look like he was hiding something – though, for the life of him, he couldn't tell who the boy was hiding from. No particular person stuck out to him. Well, there was that one rather burly looking man who seemed a bit disgruntled…

But what could the boy have done to have bothered that man?

If he was even hiding from that man at all.

And, more importantly, how had he even known that they were here?

Had the boy heard something that the shopkeeper did not?

Was there some kind of connection between the boy and who he was hiding from?

Oh, the things that he could speculate…

The boy peeked out from behind the counter then, and, after scanning the area a time or two, came out of his hiding place. He turned to the shopkeeper; the frantic look had not left his eyes.

"Is there anywhere I can go?" he asked.

The shopkeeper wasn't entirely sure what the boy meant by that, but he answered anyway. "There," he said, pointing. "Back alleyway. You won't be seen going through there."

"Thank you again!" the boy said, running off.

The shopkeeper laughed and shook his head, then began to count the munny that he had made so far today, though it would be a little late to catch the boy if he was short any. He didn't get much farther than the first 50 when someone came up to his counter.

Two someones, in fact.

One was a girl who couldn't have been any older than the boy who he had just been talking to. She had bright red hair and was wearing clothes that were definitely not native to this world, nor really suited for travel. The other was an older girl (the more appropriate term probably being "young woman") with long black hair and clothes that were definitely better suited for travel. The look in her eyes suggested that she had done this many times before and was starting to get tired of it.

"Excuse me," the girl with red hair said. "Have you seen a boy about my age with really spiky hair?"

The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised. Fate could not be so bold as to send two people who knew each other his way. "Nasty scar across his face?" he asked, slowly.

"Yes," the older girl said, sounding a bit impatient.

Of course Fate was this bold.

No reason to argue with Fate, though.

"I've seen him, yes," the shopkeeper said, laughing slightly. "I sold him a bunch of stuff, we talked, he asked to hide in my stall-"

The red haired girl stared.

"He's not still here, is he?" Then, after a moment: "Are you, Sora?" she asked, much louder.

Sora.

Was that the boy's name?

"He's already gone," he told the girl, laughing as he did so. "Though… I don't know why he'd be running from such a pretty girl like you." The shopkeeper smiled, then, a sense of daring glinting in his eyes. "Unless, of course, that pretty face is just a disguise, hiding the ugly creature you are underneath."

She laughed. "Like I'm what, a witch or something?" She laughed again. "Please, I'm just his friend."

"How do I not know those are not lies meant to deceive me?" the shopkeeper asked, still smiling, glad that, for once, someone humored him with his speculations. He rubbed his head, and, pretending to be as dramatic as possible, fretted: "Oh, should I give the poor boy away? Or should I trust that-"

"Listen, I'd love to play these games," the older girl interrupted, not looking amused in the slightest. "But we really need to find him before he runs off again. You only get this lucky once, and there's no guarantee we'll end up on the same world as him any time soon. Would you kindly tell us where he went?"

The shopkeeper sighed, but dropped the act. "He's in that back alley," he said, nodding in that direction.

The girl with red hair grinned. "Thank you so much!" she said, starting off in that direction. The older girl smiled and followed after her.

"I'll stall him if he comes back this way!" the shopkeeper called after them.

He laughed to himself, then.

He couldn't help but wonder:

Who was that girl?

Or, more importantly, what was her relationship to that boy?

Why was she looking for him?

Who was he?

There were so many questions running through his head-

He doubted that Fate would be kind enough to answer any of them.