12 Prejudice

Regas was a small town close to Selgonfield's borders with Robenrain. It had a slightly bigger population than Paldagor, and it definitely got way more visitors. Travelers from the Land of Warriors would cross the borders and go to the town market in search of grains, fruit and vegetables that they couldn't find on their own land. The Slorigans, the Amazons, and the Doyas produced very specific things. They mostly raised animals for meat, which they exchanged in the market for goods that they lacked.

Brightise and Clober entered the bustling market early in the morning. Brightise had checked their limited food supply before they'd set off. Although they still had some fruit and potatoes left, she knew that Regas would be their last and only chance to purchase anything they might need before they entered the Land of Warriors. There were no public markets in Robenrain. The warrior tribes did not trade with each other, and Brightise wasn't about to go beg the Slorigans for food.

She would rather spend the limited amount of money that she had earned from work.

"Why are the Slorigans so bad?" Clober asked when Brightise explained why they had to buy food while they still could.

Brightise furrowed her brow. "You didn't learn about the Battle of Mount Commer at school?" she asked in confusion.

She didn't remember at which point she had. Maybe she had been older than Clober.

Clober shook her head.

Brightise took a deep breath as she led their horse through the crowded market, careful not to bump into other people. "Many years ago, before you and I, or even our parents, had been born, the Fire Demons had attacked Selgonfield with their full forces. Hundreds of demons had set fire to the fields surrounding Mount Commer, destroying the crops and effectively trapping all the villagers who lived on the mountain. Selgonfield had sent messengers to every corner of Oasis, asking for help of any kind. The Amazons had sent their strongest women, and the Doyas their most skilled archers. Even the Elves had sent soldiers. Only the Slorigans had refused to aid us."

"Why?" Clober asked.

"They said Mount Commer was too close to Forest Kastlam and their home, and if the Fire Demons decided to change course and head to their camp instead, they wouldn't have enough time to go back and defend themselves."

"Was it true?"

"I guess so. But the Elves live right next to Granza, and they had still sent help and left their home defenseless against an attack in order to help us. So it was a bad excuse."

Clober nodded in understanding.

"That's why everyone in Selgonfield charges Slorigans more for whatever they buy." Brightise pointed to the prices on the market stalls. "Those prices do not apply to Slorigans," she explained.

"That's how we get payback?" Clober asked with a smile.

Brightise laughed at her deliberate choice of words. "Exactly, you little fox!"

The two of them kept walking through the market, looking around them in interest.

"Can we get some strawberries?" Clober asked.

Brightise bit her lip. "We need something that can sustain us for longer. Forest Kastlam will not be easy to cross. It might take us weeks."

"Weeks?"

Brightise shrugged. "There is no beaten track. We will probably have to follow old Slorigan horse tracks. Anyway, we could get some bread. You can choose what kind."

Clober hopped along next to her excitedly as they passed by a stall full of knives.

Paula had hidden a long, sharp kitchen knife in the food bundle she had prepared for them. It could be used both for peeling potatoes and slitting someone's throat, but Brightise would have felt safer with a real weapon.

The knives on that stall were not half-bad, but she would have rather had a Slorigan knife. Selgonfield prejudices aside, everyone knew that the Slorigan camp was the best place to get a lethal weapon. Slorigan forgers were the only reason Selgonfield still allowed Slorigans through. It was said that they used their Thunder Powers while making the blades, but no one could know for sure whether that was true. The Slorigans were tight-lipped bastards.

"Did you hear about what happened in Paldagor?" Brightise heard a middle-aged woman say behind her.

"What?" her friend asked curiously.

"Fire Demons," the woman said angrily. "My husband was out on the fields. He said he could see the smoke from all the way over here."

"Any casualties?" the other woman asked.

"No, but I heard there was a young girl missing. Pretty little thing, 20 years old..."

Brightise lowered her head and pulled Clober in the other direction.

She suddenly wanted to just buy that bread and leave.