The Otori Prophecy

X - A Day At The Market

"You're not taking her!" I heard Mum almost yell. I could picture her almost tearing her hair out as soon as she heard Dad propose the idea. I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Dad with both his hands held up and Mum threatening him with a wooden spoon. "She needs to know how things work in the real world. I promise that I won't let her out of my sight," Gilbert said, trying to smooth things over. Emma lowered her spoon for just half a second before she pressed the rounded tip of it against his chest in a silent threat.

"Mum, I could put what Ludens and Abel have taught me to use. It could be a great learning experience. That and with Dad supervising me, I could go and get the stuff you said you needed. All Dad wants is for you to take a break," I rattled off a somewhat truthful excuse. My heart hammered in my chest as I hoped that Dad would play along, and that Mum would take the white lie. Mum looked at me and then back at Dad before rolling her eyes.

"If I so much as hear that she's in trouble, you've lost all your privileges. Wait here while I write up a list of what I need," Mum muttered, sauntering to the other side of the kitchen. She grabbed her little notebook, jotting down a list of items. Dad gave me a thankful look for saving whatever plan of his was being jeopardised.

Mum came back to stand before us, tearing a page out of her notebook. She handed me the list and dropped a pouch onto the kitchen island. The contents of the pouch clinking as it hit the tabletop. "Those are the things that are needed," she stated and then her soft gaze turned into a glare aimed at Dad, "Get them and return before sundown."

Her gaze turned to me, turning soft again. She cupped my cheek in her hand. "Be safe little bird," she murmured tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I nodded eagerly and attached the small pouch of coins to my belt just as Dad had shown me to do. I took the list and put it in one of the other pouches on the belt.

"Gil," she cooed softly as we had just turned to leave. He leaned towards her, a goofy grin settling on his face at the sound of his name. "Keep her safe or you'll be sleeping outside for the next two moon cycles," Mum hummed and patted his shoulder. This was her threat to him every time he had brought up going outside with me. So dar Dad's only taken me as far as the forest and back to get some food. Both for him to trade and for us to cook. Dad nodded, reassuring Mum that I'd be safe under his watch.

Dad and I took our leave and trudged through the muddy path and towards the bustling town. We lived on the edge of it all so it was quite a long walk but it was worth it for the peace it gave us. I gawked at the amount of people and things and all the buildings. There were so many people bustling around getting whatever they needed. There were market stalls full of all kinds of food, fabric and trinkets. In my awe, I managed to bump into someone. I looked up at the person I had bumped into. An old looking man, greying at the side of his hair, a sneer on his face, towered over me.

"Why you devil! Can't your kind stay in the forest," he sneered lurching towards me. Dad was quick to cut in front of me. "Sorry sir, she didn't mean to bump into you, it's quite busy you see," Dad spoke quickly, apologetically. The man still sneered at me. His lip curling and eyes smouldering with disgust.

"Is this, savage, your slave Mr. Schmidt?" asked the cranky man, spittle flecking around his mouth. His eyes were no longer on me but I could feel the stares coming from all around me as people began to take notice of what was happening. Gilbert swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching. "She, is not my slave, she is my daughter. I apologise for her bumping into you. Now if you'll excuse me and my daughter, Mr Finchley, we'll be carrying on with our errands," Dad stated, his words filled with malice. I hadn't seen Dad so angry before.

He went to move but Mr Finchley raised his cane to block our path. "I know about you Schmidt. Once a Royal Guard and now you've sunk so low as to call this savage your daughter. I am disappointed in the waste of your career protecting the High Kings. A very noble profession and you were head of the Kings Guard at one point. Certainly, such a waste for someone of your prestigious title," Mr Finchley scoffed, drawing on the booing of the crowd. Dad pulled me closer to him, the grip on my shoulder tighter than normal. Dad's head hung low, his eyes to the floor.