WARNING DARK, SEXUAL THEMES, AND VIOLENCE
*Do not read if sensitive*
A Teyvat where, Micros, a race of humans that are 4 inches tall. Due to their size they are considered a delicacy amongst people. Because of this micros had been hunted until only...
The boy wandered the crowded streets as all manner of people were conversing and walking up and down the cobblestone paths.
(Y/N) decided to first try the market. All kinds of foods were being sold. Fruits and vegetables alinged in a row like a flower grove. The merchants waiving their fans to cool down from hot weather.
He decided to see if he could get a job as a vendors assistant.
Catching his eye was a fruit stand selling apples. The boy approached the elderly women running the stand.
"Hello miss, I was wondering if you needed any help with running the stand. I'm kind of looking for a job right now." The boy smiled and stood straight trying to look professional.
"Well I do need someone to unload a wagon for me. You think your up to it I could pay you 10 Mora."
"Of course miss!" (Y/N) bowed.
The boy went to wagon full of crates, a bit intimidated at the task at hand, but he took a deep breath and lifted one crate. Which was painful as he never realized how truly scrawny he was.
Struggling he finally lifted the crate to the stand, raising his hands in triumph.
"There's still 23 more young man" the lady said.
The boy sighed then sadly walked back to get another crate.
After he was finished the lady dropped a coin purse in his palm.
"Thank you Miss!" The boy said.
"Here for extra payment, you've done me very well I would have had to that myself." The lady gave him a fresh apple.
The boy nodded then looked at the fruit fondly. He put it in his pocket for later.
The boy counted the 10 Mora in the coin purse.
"I still need more." (Y/N) looked around, the streets were still as lively.
A loud clang made the boy turn around. There was a black Smith smashing a heated sword on the anvil. The boy approached the black Smith curious.
The blacksmith glanced shortly at the boy then lifted the heated blade with his metal tongs into a bucket of water hissing at the contact. The black smith had a grey beard and a pony tail wearing a black apron and elbow length gloves.
The boy amused at the steam emitting from the wooden bucket.
"Your not to hard to impress are you boy?" The blacksmith said.
"That I am not." The boy replied.
"Say sir, may I be of assistance." The boy leaned to the anvil curious.
"This isn't a place for children." The blacksmith replied.
"Oh I see, can I atleast look around."
"fine but don't touch." The blacksmith said.
The blacksmith took out the metal and placed it back on the anvil. The boy looked around at the various weapons on the racks. From swords to spears many types were here. But what caught his attention was a prosthetic arm on a sword holder.
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