The Path to Ivory

Ch. 6 - Fate Would Have It

My stomach growled as the smell of sweets practically blinded my other senses, once I found a place to tie up Truffle, I hopped off on instinct, just about to run into town and attack their food rations. I was raised a little better, though, so I gave my horse a good pat on the nose and attached his reigns to the post where other horses were. They were pure white, which made him stand out quite a lot, and spotless, no impurities. I could claim they were factory made and I'm still not sure if I'd be wrong.

I kicked my boots against the lip of the sidewalk, removing some of the buildup onto the very clean road. I wasn't looking up, but if I were I would've seen the surprised and distasteful looks I got from this. Hell, I looked like a bull in a fine China shop immediately, amongst these people. They had browns and whites for their clothing, very fancy looks, but not me. I've been told I look like the desert flats at sunset, my attire is mostly dark brown with a few red accents. Not any bright reds, either, my boots were a deep wine-like color. I never felt out of place before, oddly enough, but now I certainly did.

I tilt my hat to one of the people staring, and don't get a nod back. That's fine, nothing out of the usual. I put both hands on my belt, a big red belt with a star placed for the buckle, on my right hip is a holster for my weapon. I make sure to brandish it all the time, keeps people quiet. I like it like that.

The steps coming from me are much louder than everyone's around me, I have a heavy boot and a jingling hip, so I can feel the attention shift entirely. No need to pay it any mind, I'm not here for them. I tilt my head to another of the people, and she turns on a dime. "Howdy, ma'am." I say, and she jumps. That gets a chuckle out of me, bass filled and rough on the chords.

It's weirdly quiet around here. There's the murmur of conversation, but it's like their feet don't make noise. There's no creaking of old doors and handmade bells to signify someone coming into a building. In fact, their buildings don't have doors at all. Talk about unperturbed, I guess they don't have fears of people breaking in and stealing here. How odd, even the saloons back home had doors. Sure they were broken off most nights, but it's the thought that counts.

I peek in through the windows of one of these confident buildings, chocolate sweets. I note that for later, and continue on to the next one, luckily not having to deal with avoiding people walking towards me since they did it for me. But my surprise wasn't in that, it was in finding that the next store was exactly the same. I cocked my eyebrow and inspected, and to my knowledge, even the placement of the candies was the same. Should I dare to learn why it was like that? The question is my biggest challenge right now, so I might as well. Knowledge is power, you know.

Stepping in, looking around for something to alert the shopkeep I was here, it wasn't necessary since he popped up behind the counter. "Good morning, patron, how can I- oh!" He interrupted himself, and a smirk formed under my bandana. "...How can I service you today?" He finished. Seemed I caught him a bit off guard.

"Mornin' there, no need'ta be so formal. I'm a nice guy." I said, hunching down to inspect the decadent looking sweets on display. I'd never quite seen something so fancy, and it was apparently just chocolates. They looked layered, decorated, stamped, packaged, and not like the ones in the heart shaped boxes. Whoever made them had surely perfected the talent. "How much fore'n... say five of 'em?" I asked.

"Five of which ones, sir?" He asked, his head lowering behind his side of the display as well.

"The chocolates? Least that's what I'm guessin' they are." I thought I was pretty obvious, what else do they sell?

"Well, yes, but which chocolates." He sounded slightly bothered. "There's foréts noire, millefeuilles, tarte tatin, succés, opéra-" I had to stop him, since clearly there was no end to this.

"These'n dark ones, on the left." I press my finger to the glass, and he gasps. Guess I wasn't supposed to touch that, so I pull away, and he looks pleased.

"Coffee and Rum! A solid choice. Is this your first time with us?" He asks, his gloved hand pulls five of them out individually and placed them in quite a grandiose little case for chocolates. He never answered my question.

"Uh, yes'ir." I liked the way those ones sounded. "How much would that set me back?" I ask again but a bit more clear, not having much in terms of money.

He lifts them onto the counter and gives me a slightly tilted look. "It'll be about sixty five bits, sir."

My eyes widen under the shadow of my hat and I let out a slow whistle. "And for a single piece?" I just about dropped right there. I had about... nine coins in my pockets and an instinct to survive, and that's kept me alive since I was a kid.

"Er- it would be thirteen for a single piece." His eyes looked me over like I said something dumb, and I didn't like that one bit.

"I got nine." My tone had flattened much now, and he frowned.

"Nine can get you... half a bar of plain chocolate."

"Sounds good'ta me." I said, hand burrowing into my pocket.

"N-no, that was me saying that you can't afford anything in here." He said, lifting the chocolates away from the counter to put them back on display. That didn't seem sanitary, but I guess I didn't touch them.