The Ivory Killer (DISCONTINUED)

-Chapter One- Aron

There is an aggressive, but non-graphic scene included in this chapter.

Hungrily, my eyes scanned the stalls, scoping out my next meal. I absentmindedly fished through my pocket, only glancing down when my finger went right through a hole. "That was not there yesterday," I commented to myself, continuing to search.

Three bronze pieces. Three bronze pieces and a small fluff of lint. Goodness, this is quite the situation, isn't it?

I rolled one of the small, tarnished coins between my fingers, still searching for something that sold for a bronze piece. Spending all the coins at once would be foolish, so I budgeted myself at one. The sad thing was, I had found two of those lying on the ground. I hadn't even earned them. My worn boots shuffled over the gravel covered dirt road. I swiveled my head, causing my overgrown hair to flop into my line of sight. Exasperated, I combed my fingers through my strawberry blond curls and succeeded in brushing it away, for now. I hadn't had a chance to cut it back, so it had started to fall into my eyes.

As I walked further into the organized chaos of stalls and booths, the sounds of shopping and selling grew stronger. Booth-owners shouted over each other, fighting for attention from the customers. The people gossiped with each other while poking around in stalls and trying to find the best produce. The street bustled with energy. A pair of children ran past me, chasing a frightened looking cat. I couldn't help but chuckle when a younger woman, who I assumed was their mother, quickly followed, shouting their names.

Different types of products were being sold, ranging from clothes, to baked goods, to fresh foods. But, the real detail to pay attention to was the pricing, because, today, I was playing the game of "What Can I Actually Afford?". Again, I glanced hopelessly at the bronze coin in my hand. The best thing I could afford with this would be maybe a small packet of dirt, and at most, maybe two packets of dirt.

I ran my eyes across the stalls and tried my best to ignore the aggressive rumbling in the pit of my stomach. Anything would be good to eat right now. Rich smells of cooked meat and buttery dough floated in the air. If I could glare at it, I would, because it was just reminding me of what I couldn't have.

I wove my way through small clusters of people, who so carelessly stood in the middle of the road. I had decided to walk up to a stall or two to get a closer look. Maybe, just maybe, someone was selling a bruised piece of fruit or a rock-hard piece of bread for a bronze piece. None of the prices matched my budget, and I realized that I had hoped too much. Bronze pieces were of the lowest value in Otania's currency. Nobody could possibly make a profit off of products costing one bronze piece. So, while exploring the stalls, I made sure to quickly search the ground around them to see if I could find any more pieces. I really needed a job.

In the end, I only found one more bronze piece and allowed myself to expand my budget to two bronze pieces. Though it would still be hard to find something, I had a better chance now.

I reached a small bread stand, which was almost hiding behind a huge stall dedicated to fabric and tapestries. A large man behind the counter hummed under his breath while wrapping up loaves of bread in scrap-pieces of burlap. I stared longingly at the food, checking each and every price, hoping that there was something I could afford. The smell was intoxicating and I picked up a wrapped loaf from the table. It was still warm.

"Did you need something, kid? 'Cause if you ain't gonna buy it, don't touch it," I snapped my head up and saw the man, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I didn't realize how long I'd been standing there and I placed the loaf down.

"Sorry," I replied, "I'm just looking." I continued my search, even crouching down to see if there was anything under the table. Just barely peeking out was a wooden crate, filled to the brim with loaves of bread. There were round ones, and a few longer ones. At first, they didn't appear to be marked, but upon closer inspection, there was a small piece of parchment nailed to the box that read, "priced by size." Now this looked promising.