The Sky at the Azuris

I woke that morning to the faint clatter of cookware in the kitchen and the warm smell of tea drifting from the other room. My sister, Myrina, must have been making breakfast before heading out. I lay there for a moment, watching golden sunlight inch across the floorboards. My mind buzzed with excitement as I recalled what I planned to do that day: visit the marketplace for the first time since earning my first iron coin.

It might sound ridiculous to be this thrilled over a single coin, but to me, it was a tangible symbol of my progress. Just a short while ago, I'd joined the Adventurers' Guild as a G– rank errand boy, and now I had real, earned money. My grin was unstoppable as I got dressed and carefully slipped the coin into my pocket, like I might lose it if I wasn't cautious. Sure, it was only an iron coin, but I was proud of it all the same.

By the time I emerged into our cramped living area, Myrina was already fastening the straps on her light armor, checking each buckle with the practiced efficiency of a seasoned adventurer. A battered cloak lay across the chair beside her, the edges frayed from many quests. She noticed me and let out a mock sigh of exasperation, though her grin gave her away.

"You're up bright and early," she said, blowing a strand of dark hair away from her forehead. "Planning something big, munchkin?"

"Don't call me munchkin," I teased, halfheartedly. I tugged on my worn boots. "And yes, I have big plans, actually."

She lifted an eyebrow, a playful expression crossing her face. "Oh? Care to enlighten me?"

I pulled my iron coin from my pocket, letting it catch a bit of light. "I'm heading to the market. I want to see what I can buy with this—maybe a new satchel or something for quests." A flicker of eagerness warmed my voice.

"Look at you, all grown up." Her tone carried genuine pride beneath that familiar older-sister sarcasm. But then a slight shift in her posture made me realize she had her own journey ahead. "I'm going out, too. Got a quest at the Great Border Dungeon."

My heart kicked up a bit. "The Great Border Dungeon?" I repeated. Stories of that place were legendary—dangerous monsters, hidden traps, strong adventurers returning battered or not at all. Still, Myrina's face betrayed no fear.

"Don't worry," she said, noticing my concern. "I've tackled tough dungeons before. This one's rumored to have good loot, so it's worth the risk. Might take me a while, though."

She stooped to pick up her cloak. In those moments, her cheerful, carefree demeanor faded just enough for me to glimpse the steely determination beneath. I knew better than to question her capability—she was far beyond me in rank. If anyone could handle that place, Myrina could.

Still, I attempted a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, if you find anything neat in there… maybe bring me a souvenir?"

She paused with her cloak half around her shoulders, then snorted with disbelief. "From a dungeon crawling with beasts? Sure, why not. Maybe a monstrous plushie that gnashes its teeth at midnight."

I couldn't help but laugh. "That's a terrible idea, but also… I'd kind of love to see it."

She gave me a mock glare, then leaned against the doorframe, pursing her lips like she was struggling not to smile. "You're a piece of work," she said, rolling her eyes. "Always trying to hustle a present out of me."

"What can I say? I'm your favorite little brother. And hey, I learned from the best."

Myrina pretended to look offended. "The best, huh? Please, I'm the only sibling you've got. And speaking of 'the best,' I happen to have a pun for you, if you insist on me bringing back souvenirs."

I grimaced, bracing myself. Myrina's so-called 'dad jokes' were famously lame. "Oh no," I muttered. "Here we go."

She cleared her throat, straightening like she was about to deliver a grand speech. "What do you call a skeleton that refuses to fight in a dungeon?"

I winced in anticipation. "I… have no idea. What?"

"Bone idle," she said, bursting into a wide grin at her own joke.

A groan escaped my throat, but I still found myself snickering. I couldn't help it; her playful attitude was infectious. "That might be your worst pun yet."

"Great, right?" she asked, clearly proud of her ridiculous sense of humor. She grabbed her bag and ruffled my hair. "Anyway, I should get going before it gets too late. Don't do anything too reckless, yeah?"

"I won't," I said with a grin. "Enjoy your monster-ific adventure."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Don't try to steal my pun thunder. But sure, I'll be careful." Then, with one last affectionate pat on my shoulder, she swung the door open and headed out.

The moment she was gone, our little home felt quieter than usual. I glanced around the modest living space: a simple wooden table, a few chairs, a shelf loaded with Myrina's trophies and random trinkets from her past quests. Letting out a breath, I grabbed my own coin from my pocket again and gazed at it with fresh excitement. This coin was the result of the herbalist errand Mya and I had finished. One iron coin. It had to be worth something, right?

I left the house, stepping into the bright mid-morning sun. My boots clacked against the cobblestone as I navigated the streets of our city, which was already alive with activity. Hawkers shouted about their wares, children darted past with wooden swords, and the aroma of fresh bread teased my senses at every turn. I headed to the marketplace, my heart hammering with anticipation.

The market district was a sprawling area near the city's center, bustling with a dizzying array of stalls, carts, and temporary awnings. Colorful banners fluttered overhead, and the crowd was dense enough that I had to weave between people to avoid being jostled. Everywhere I turned, merchants pitched their goods: fruit, vegetables, fabrics, potions, weapons, trinkets—an endless variety of items. It was overwhelming, but I couldn't wipe the grin off my face.

I spotted a fruit vendor with a pile of plump apples on display. The merchant waved me over, noticing my interest. "Fresh apples, lad! Only five brass coins each. These are the sweetest in town."

I approached, though somewhat hesitantly. "Um… how many apples could I buy with one iron coin?"

He inspected the coin in my hand, then chuckled. "Kid, that coin is worth ten brass coins. So you'd need at least one more brass coin to buy two apples."

My excitement faltered. "Oh," I said, glancing at my lone iron coin. I hadn't realized the conversion rate was that steep. "I guess… I can't afford an apple, then."

He shook his head apologetically, offering me a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, friend. Come back if you have more."

I mumbled a quiet "thanks" and walked away, feeling a small pang of disappointment. Ten brass coins per iron coin, huh? Maybe I should have studied the currency system before coming here. Still, I shrugged it off. The cost of fruit didn't matter—I had bigger plans. I didn't come to buy apples, I came for something more substantial. Like a satchel.

With renewed determination, I spotted a leather goods stall a short distance away. My heart did a small leap when I saw a sturdy-looking satchel hanging from a display rack. It was plain but looked durable enough for me to carry quest items or maybe books from my lessons. Perfect for a newbie adventurer like me.

I approached the merchant, an older man with a neat beard and a polished manner. "Excuse me," I said, pointing at the satchel. "How much is that one?"

He eyed me up and down, perhaps noticing my small stature and G– rank emblem. "This satchel? Quality leather, well-stitched. Two and a half copper coins."

My eyebrows knitted in confusion. I'd never used copper coins before, only silver or iron. But I kept my voice as confident as I could manage. "So… is that, like… within reach if I only have iron coins?" I held out my single coin, showing him.

His expression gentled, and he leaned in a bit. "Kid, one copper coin is a thousand iron coins. Two and a half copper is two thousand five hundred iron coins. That's the price."

My stomach dropped. "Two thousand five hundred… iron coins?" I repeated, my voice going weak. "I have… just one."

He gave me a rueful shrug. "Then you're quite a ways off."

I stared at my coin like it had betrayed me. The merchant kindly tried to soften the blow. "It's not worthless, but it's… well, it's not enough for any full leather item. If you saved up more iron coins, you could eventually come back."

My cheeks burned. I felt like an absolute fool for not realizing how currency converted. "Right. Sorry to bother you." I backed away, trying not to look too crestfallen.

It started to dawn on me just how little I could actually buy with a single iron coin. Sure, it was better than nothing, but I'd imagined getting a decent bag for my quests. That idea now seemed laughable. Still, part of me stubbornly refused to give up. The market was massive—maybe I'd find a stall selling cheaper items.

I marched on, weaving through crowds of shoppers. At a table stacked with potions, I tried again. "How much for a small healing potion?"

A friendly female merchant behind the stall tapped a sign that read "Half Copper per Bottle." Doing the math, that was five hundred iron coins each. My single coin fell staggeringly short. With a tight-lipped smile, I thanked her and kept walking.

Further down, I passed by a stall selling "lucky charms." A middle-aged man with a wide grin pitched me an amulet that he claimed would " ward off minor curses." I was intrigued, until he mentioned the cost: two brass coins minimum, the equivalent of two iron coins. Even that was out of my reach. My single coin couldn't buy me an apple, a potion, or even a cheap trinket.

At this point, the novelty had worn off. I realized with grim clarity that the marketplace wasn't designed for folks who only had iron coins. Those with more money negotiated for actual gear, and I, with my coin, was relegated to browsing. The shop owners were usually polite, but I saw the pity in their eyes when I held up my worthless coin.

At one stall, I tried for a small patch of cloth, thinking maybe I could patch up an old bag I had at home. The merchant told me the scrap cost fifteen iron coins. Another stall sold leftover leather bits for three copper coins—three thousand iron coins, to be precise. Everywhere I looked, the prices soared. My shoulders gradually slumped, weighed down by frustration and disappointment.

Time slipped away. The sun arced higher, beating down on the city. My stomach growled at one point, but I had no brass coins to spare on street food. I was too stubborn to leave, though, because I had clung to a sliver of hope that maybe, somewhere, there'd be a stall with an item priced at exactly one iron coin.

Finally, I heard someone mention a shady part of the market where older or damaged goods were sold. In a burst of determination, I followed their directions to a row of mismatched tents at the edge of the market. The area was quieter, the pathways narrower. I passed a couple of questionable stands—one sold broken tools, another carried chipped dishes.

Near the end, I spotted a battered stall marked by a torn awning. An old man, presumably the proprietor, dozed off behind a crate. A sign read "Farlon's Discount Wares." The place looked half-abandoned, but I approached anyway.

"Excuse me," I said softly, not wanting to be rude. The old man blinked awake. "Do you… have any cheap satchels here?"

He rubbed his eyes, glancing around in mild confusion before spotting a ragged-looking leather bag. The strap was partially torn, and the metal buckles were rusted. "That's the cheapest I've got," he grumbled.

I stepped closer, inspecting it. It looked like it might barely hold together under moderate use, but it was still a satchel. "How much is it?"

He stared at me, then tapped his chin. "I'll give it to you for five hundred seventy-three iron coins."

My spirits sank. "Wait… five hundred and seventy-three iron coins?"

He shrugged. "It's still genuine leather. Good enough for errands. Unless you want something more broken."

I exhaled, a defeated sound. "I have… one iron coin."

At that, he snorted. "One coin won't buy anything here, boy."

Heat pooled in my face—anger, embarrassment, disappointment swirling together. Without another word, I turned and left the stall, ignoring the curious stares of a few passersby who'd overheard. My chest constricted with the realization that I'd wasted nearly the entire day combing the market for something I could afford, only to come up empty-handed.

I found a quiet corner near the edge of the marketplace, where a wooden post jutted from the ground, presumably a hitching post for horses. No one was using it, so I sat down, letting my shoulders droop. The crowd pressed on without me, each person carrying coin pouches that likely held more than a single iron piece.

I fished out my coin, turning it over in my palm. A sense of foolishness and frustration welled up. Had I really been so naive about the cost of goods? I thought about how easily Myrina paid for things with silver coins, how older adventurers tossed around gold as if it was nothing. Meanwhile, I couldn't afford a scrap of cloth.

Part of me wanted to wallow in self-pity, to blame the system for being unfair. But as I looked around, I saw other people haggling, paying with silver or copper, living their daily lives. It struck me that I was simply at the bottom rung of the ladder. If I wanted better, I'd have to climb.

Fine, I thought. I'll earn more. My single iron coin would be the start of something bigger. I wasn't about to quit just because the market was harsh.

Still hungry, I hoisted myself off the post and started the trek back through the main thoroughfare. My pouch felt almost laughable—empty except for that little coin. The sky had shifted to a more golden hue, indicating late afternoon. Stalls began to pack up. A few merchants I'd visited earlier gave me pitying smiles. I did my best to keep my chin high, though a sour taste remained in my mouth.

Eventually, I made it out of the market district and headed straight for the Adventurers' Guild. The building towered at the end of a broad street, wooden doors open to welcome or challenge, depending on your perspective. The sun glinted off the sign overhead, and the hum of conversation reached my ears before I even set foot inside.

Nerissa, the ever-smiling receptionist, was at her usual post. She caught sight of me the moment I stepped in, her eyes gleaming with recognition. As I approached, she tilted her head. "You look like you just ran a marathon," she observed. "Something on your mind?"

I leaned against the counter, exhaling a tired chuckle. "I spent all day at the market, trying to buy… basically anything with this." I held up the iron coin, my frustration evident. "Turns out one iron coin can't buy a thing."

She offered a rueful smile. "Yeah, that can be a shocker for newbies. The currency conversions can be cruel."

"Cruel," I echoed, recalling the prices I'd been quoted. "I guess I need to earn a lot more if I ever want real gear."

Nerissa nodded, shuffling through a stack of quest flyers. "That's the usual path. You take on quests, you build up your coin pouch. Being an adventurer can be lucrative, but it's never easy, even at the errand level."

I drummed my fingers on the wooden countertop, a wave of determination sparking inside me. "Right. I'm ready for another job. G– rank tasks, errands, anything that pays more than a single coin."

With a wry grin, Nerissa flipped through the flyers. "Let's see… We've got a request for some help around a warehouse, or there's a small gathering quest outside the city. Nothing too dangerous, but the pay's slightly better than you got from the herbalist."

"I'll take whichever," I said, feeling my confidence return. "As long as it's something I can handle on my own."

She handed me a thin slip of parchment. "You'll do fine. Just be sure to come back and report when you're done, so you can get your reward. Hard to earn new coins if you forget to collect them, right?"

I took the flyer, scanning its contents: a typical errand, requiring me to gather a certain type of plant from a field near the city. The pay was two iron coins. Not a fortune, but double what I currently had. "I'll start right away," I told her.

Nerissa gave me an encouraging nod. "Sounds good, Trey."

"Thanks," I said, stepping away from the counter. "You just wait. Next time, maybe I'll have enough for an apple. Or even two."

She chuckled. "Aim high, Trey."

My face warmed, but I smiled back. The day might not have gone as I'd hoped—no satchel, no fancy new gear—but I had learned a crucial lesson about how far I still had to go. Outside, the late afternoon light cast long shadows across the guild's courtyard. I breathed in the cool air, letting the tension seep from my shoulders.

Myrina would be gone for a while on her dungeon quest. Part of me wondered if she'd come back with some interesting find to show me. It was likely more valuable than anything I could afford right now. But that was okay. I'd get there one step at a time.

Tucking the quest flyer into my pocket beside the single iron coin, I set off for the quest and quickly go for home afterward. The day had tested my enthusiasm, but it hadn't broken it. Tomorrow, I'd rise with a fresh sense of purpose, ready to learn more. In time, those coins would stack up, and I'd be able to stride through that market without feeling small or embarrassed.

I replayed Myrina's earlier joke in my head. It was bad—really bad—and yet I found myself smiling. Life was full of moments like that: silly, warm, sometimes a bit disappointing, but always pushing me to keep going. With every step along the cobblestone road, I felt more certain that one day, I'd look back on this moment—my single iron coin, my naive optimism—and see it as the spark that ignited a bigger adventure.

For now, though, I was just Trey Austere, the shy, awkward kid who couldn't buy an apple or a scrap of cloth in the marketplace. But tomorrow promised another chance to grow. And that was enough to keep me moving forward.