Ryan had been living in Luke's town, Stahl, for two weeks. It was far smaller than his perception of a town had been. There were less than twenty families that lived in the small settlement with a small tavern and town hall serving as the only shared facilities. Considering that their buildings consisted of little more than mud, lumber, and thatched straw, even the town hall, the largest building, was no bigger than a typical suburban home back on Earth. The townspeople had cleared and flattened the encompassing greenery, to make a simple dirt road network. They did this, not for their own benefit, but because bi-monthly a caravan of merchants would stop at Stahl on their way to the bigger city of Ristia. Most of the villagers sold the merchants their produce, which was the village's main source of income. Aside from the corn that Luke and his family grew, there were others who grew potatoes, wheat, and carrots.
Ryan wandered the dirt roads in search of a merchant he could trade with. Luckily, his arrival in the village had coincided with that of the merchants' arrival. For the last two weeks, Ryan had been staying at Luke's house, for free. Their house, which consisted of one living room and two bedrooms housed Luke, his two younger brothers, his mother, and now Ryan. As much as he disliked the farming and hauling fifty pounds of corn back to Stahl, he had continued helping Luke with the arduous task each day.
Today, that would change. Although Ryan had initially dismissed his lackluster starting gear, he figured that the unique items in his possessions would net him a fair profit. If Ryan wanted to move to a bigger town, making some easy money off a merchant was his best chance. Luke had never given him enough time to be bored. Between their farm work and other odd jobs that Luke undertook, Ryan hadn't been able to lament his lack of technology. After eating the simple meals Luke's mom prepared, normally stew with bread, he collapsed into a hibernation-like state. Every morning Luke woke him up at the crack of dawn. Early morning farm work was hell. Today was no different. Ryan, damp with his morning sweat, and dirty with the field's earth, as he wandered the town in search for the merchant who could set him free from his daily torture.
He found a group of merchants in the town square where each townsperson had set up a stall to showcase their produce. It was a typical farmers market with bundles of carrots, corn, and bunches of potatoes coating the atmosphere in the smell of dirt and earth. Each stall was ran by the head of the family, in most cases a man, who jovially tried directing the crowd of merchants towards his vegetables. In the past few days Ryan had seen Luke selling his families' corn. Ryan hadn't asked but had gathered that the father of the family was no longer around. Whether that was due to death or abandonment, Ryan couldn't say. So, Luke, the eldest son, undertook all the obligations of his family.
Ryan singled out a rather plump merchant who had purchased a steamed potato for himself. As the merchant took a rather large bite out of the steamy spud, Ryan spoke to him.
"Good afternoon," Ryan greeted the man's potato stuffed face with his brightest smile. "My name is Ryan Khol, and I'd like to make a deal with you."
The plump merchant looked quizzically at the sweat-stained brown tunic and pants Luke's family had lent him for fieldwork. Ryan knew that he hardly looked like a prospective business partner; like a five-year-old offering to help their father with work, there was no way the merchant took him seriously. Still, he did have the common courtesy to swallow before talking, which was something.
"I doubt that you've got anything worth telling me," said the merchant. "But I wouldn't be much of a merchant if I didn't at least hear you out."
Ryan's smile brightened as he told the man about the rare goods he possessed. Unveiling his Air pods, leather wallet, work-uniform, and black belt, he did his best to highlight the features of each, though he struggled to explain the Air pods. Without a phone, or a reliable method to charge them, he'd be lucky to receive anything for the mass-produced accessories.
"Interesting," said the merchant. "I'll make you deal, one gold piece for everything you just showed me."
Ryan was taken aback by the quickness of the merchant's offer. The fairness of the deal was also lost on him. On earth, everything had cost him around two hundred dollars, with most of the cost coming from the Air Pods. He did understand a bit about how the monetary system worked in this world. The continent used copper, silver, and gold coins as currency, with the value of each coin differing largely from the one below it. A silver coin was worth one hundred cooper coins, and a gold coin held the value of one hundred silver. To put it another way, if a cooper piece was a penny, then a gold coin was worth a hundred-dollar bill.
After haggling with the merchant. Ryan was able to bring the total profits to one gold, ten silver: a respectable profit. He'd seen the prices around town. Farmers sold their produce for one to three coppers per crop, though many offered bulk deals. Lodging prices were similarly cheap. Several families in the villages offered overnight housing for travelers. The most expensive charged ten coppers a night for dinner, bed, and breakfast.
The pair shook hands to seal the deal and Ryan relinquished his possessions to the merchant, who gulped down his last bite of potato. Afterwards, the man left, a greedy smile on his face. He was certain that he'd walked out of their deal the winner. Ryan had known the result before they started negotiating. He was a naïve kid. There was no possibility he could outwit a merchant, a master of business. Frankly, he was happy that he had squeezed a bit more money out of the deal than he'd hoped. Now that he had some available funds, he was no longer shackled to the village. A faraway city was within reach, away from the hellish lifestyle of the farmers.
Coins jingling in the leather pouch the merchant had given him, Ryan searched the town
square for a treat to help himself to. There were many foods he had been craving during his stay in the village, but they had never seemed further away. He didn't know if ice cream existed in this world. Refrigerators and freezer seemed out the question, which would make the creation of the creamy treat impossible, bur the presence of magic gave him hope.
He decided to visit Luke's corn stall. The golden crop had been arduous to harvest, though Ryan was willing to concede that they tasted good. As he approached, shouting drew in attention. he quickened his pace. There was a heavy, uncomfortable nature to the air. It was a feeling that he knew all too well. In front of Luke's simple wooden stall, stood an imposing man dressed in a red silken tunic and wide-brimmed black hat. At his side was a wooden cart, overflowing with innumerable ears of corn.
"I don't understand what's so difficult," said the well-dressed man. In his hand he clutched an ear of corn. "Do you remember me from yesterday?"
Luke stood behind his stall with a serious look on his face. His sun-kissed ears were tinged red in embarrassment. Having spent a great deal of time with him over the past weeks, Ryan thought it was strange to see the farm boy not smiling.
"Yes, sir," Luke replied curtly.
"Clearly, you don't remember the gratitude you should feel towards me!"
"I'm sorry, sir," Luke replied in a raspy voice. He bowed at the man berating him.
"That's good. Now, I believe you owe me a refund." He gestured towards the bulk of corn at his side. "I'll return the five hundred ears of corn you sold to me yesterday," The man licked his lips, as if savoring something very sweet.
"Thank you for your kindness, sir," said Luke.
"Although, that wouldn't do at all. If I hadn't cooked the corn for my supper last night, then I wouldn't have realized how vile your produce is."
"I'm sorry that the corn didn't meet your standards."
"My standards? I'm starting to think that you don't understand how gracious I'm being. As a merchant my job is to buy goods from one place and sell to another. I came to this village because I'd heard others praise the quality of it's produce. Though I must've misheard. Quality produce? Certainly not from this town."
The well-dressed merchant hurled his ear of corn at Luke's stand. Spiring through the air like an out-of-control football, it found its mark, bouncing off Luke's chest. His eyes opened in shock, but he said nothing. It didn't appear to have caused any damage but coupled with the man's insults had clearly awakened something within the young man.
"I paid five silvers for your corn. However, simply returning that money would be nothing but an insult to me. Give me six silvers. A reasonable request from a customer, right?"
"I don't have that much money."
"Is that so? Then you leave me no choice," said the man with false regret.
Extending a hand towards the cart, a small flame appeared in his palm. Ryan had scarcely seen magic since coming to Luke's town. Apparently, it wasn't something that they had time for. Anyone in this world could use magic, but it took far too much time to master. Young though he was, Luke spent every free moment honing his skills and was even able to levitate small objects. Though, that was the limit of someone who spent so much of their time farming for a living. He could only guess, but Ryan assumed that creating an element like fire was only possible for those who possessed a wealth of idle time.
"In that case, I'll accept five… though I won't be returning your crops."
"No, please!" tears rolled down Luke's face as he pleaded with the man. Having spent every morning with the boy, toiling to produce the best crops possible, Ryan understood a little of how Luke was feeling. Farming was a job harder than most. The wagon overflowing with corn was a testament of hard work and care. The well-dressed merchant was either oblivious to that fact or didn't care because he kept his arm outstretched. The tiny flame grew to the size of a baseball.
In response to the man's threat, Ryan came to hard decision. Abandoning his position as an onlooker, he stepped into the exchange. Firstly, he couldn't stand the man's attitude. He could only guess on the man's motive. Maybe threatening Luke provided a sadistic pleasure to the man. It was also possible that an overinflated ego made him think that arson was a fitting punishment for bad corn. The reason didn't matter to Ryan. He'd been on the receiving end of his type countless times. He was the kind of people that Ryan hated the most.
"If there's anyone who has a reason to burn that corn, it's me. I don't see the appeal. There's some food that I'd work to produce, but corn isn't one of them. That being said," Ryan cracked his knuckles. "I don't think you have the right to destroy that corn."
"I bought it, so I'm free to do whatever I want. Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" the merchant directed his flame towards Ryan.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ryan jingled his pouch of money. "Your pyrokinesis could definitely burn me to a crisp, but I bet you'd hate to burn up this money along with me."
Ryan had no intention of handing over his coins, but the merchant didn't need to know that. If he could get close enough to the merchant, then Ryan was sure to win a fistfight. He had always been of a heavier set than most boys his age, and since coming to the village he had bulked up due to the constant stream of farm work.
"For the record, how much is in there?" said the merchant.
"Ten gold coins," Ryan lied. He was willing to stand up to the pyromancer, but he did everything in his power to lower his odds of being burned alive.
"I guess I shouldn't incinerate you then," the merchant sighed, but his look was hardly one of defeat. He looked resigned, as he began undoing his expensive looking clothes. After neatly folding them, he placed them on the carrot cart. Stripped of everything but his leather undergarments, he took a deep breath, and began advancing on Ryan.
Keeping both hands outstretched, he sprinted towards Ryan. Having figured out the man's plan, Ryan panicked. He had assumed that the merchant's fire magic was too dangerous to be used at close range but based on how he was advancing that didn't seem to be true. He turned away to flee, but the merchant had closed the gap too quickly. Grasping the coin bag in his right hand, he held the other towards the petrified Ryan. Any movement and he'd be cooked. His attention only half focused on his prisoner; the merchant peered into the pouch. Seeing a sum less than a tenth of what he'd been told, the man couldn't hide his disappointment.
"And here I thought it was my lucky day. One gold and some silver hardly makes this worth the trouble."
"Please, don't," Luke said from the distance.
Ryan stayed silent, as he notched his head toward the boy's tear-stained face. He despised Luke, or at least he had. Like every extrovert that Ryan had known, he hated Luke because of all the impossible things he could do. The young farmer had met a stranger who had nothing and helped him. He smiled constantly and everyone seemed to adore him. The kid was twelve, and he had already accomplished so much more than Ryan ever had in life. Having lost his father at a young age, the boy had performed the job of a patriarch admirably. It turned out being bright and cheery were far more impressive qualities than Ryan gave credit. Luke's genuine smile weighed infinitely more than Ryan's phony smile.
Luke had mindlessly given to him. He had given him a home in this new world, and Ryan had thought of nothing but his own gain. There were scarce few people that Ryan trusted in the world. His mom was the only person that came to mind. She was truly kind. Ryan had often questioned why she stayed awake, waiting for her child to return home. It was a selfless act that didn't benefit her in the slightest. He supposed that there were always people like that. Anomalies who were able to place another's happiness and safety above their own. Ryan knew he wasn't one of those people. He understood the darkness in people's hearts. After all, he was a terrible person who was unable to act for others. Until this moment.
"Luke, I just wanted to say," Ryan voice choked as he felt the merchant open palm sit atop his head. He could feel the temperature rising, smell his hair burning. "I came from a place that was known for its corn. That's why I can say that this guy has no idea what he's talking about. Your corn is delicious!"
With that the Nebraskan was engulfed in a vortex of flame.