Rising Prices

After shutting the front door, Mildune crept through the quiet house, doing his best to avoid the boards that creakd. By now, most of the candle had been snuffed out, leaving only a faint glow wavering in the study. There, he found his uncle, asleep in a padded chair, while a book hung limply from his hands. Mildune took the book and returned it to its shelf, before retrieving a blanket from the cupboard and draping it over his uncle.

"Rest well, Uncle…"

The old man let out a snort, and muttered something about distant lands, before settling deeper into his cushioned chair. Not wishing to wake him, Mildune quietly made his way out, and up the stairs to the second floor. Three doors lined the hallway there, and his room was past the first door on the left.

Inside, the room was sparsely decorated, with a single bed, a dresser, two shelves, and an old wardrobe. A few items stood on the shelves, such as a strange rock he once found, shaped like an egg, and a mysterious golden ring, which he found in a nearby creek.

Mildune crossed the room and propped open a shuttered window, before changing into his night wear and settling into his bed. The straw mattress rustled as he laid back, and stared up at the moonlit ceiling.

Closing his eyes, Mildune's mind drifted back to the strange occurrence in the forest. Had he really been seeing things, or was there really something strange going on. If he had the chance, he would like to go back and examine the woods a little better.

'Perhaps its as the bard said, and strange beasts really are lurking the lands once more… I wonder…'

Before he could finish the thought, Mildune drifted to sleep, lulled by the rustling wind outside.

…

The next morning sunlight slipped through the shuttered window, and lit the room with a warm glow. Chatter filled the street outside as people greeted one another as they prepared for the day.

With a yawn, Mildune sat up and stretched his back, which ached after a long day of work. Ever since he became a farm hand, it would be sore every morning, and nothing he did changed that.

Groaning, Mildune rolled out of bed, and made his way to his wardrobe. The cold oak floor helped wake him, and soon enough he was dressed and headed down the stairs. He found his uncle in the kitchen, preparing two bowls of porridge. The old man frowned when he walked in.

"Morning, uncle," Mildune said, sitting down at the table. A spot was set out for him, and soon he found a steaming bowl plopped in front of him.

"Goodmorning, Mildune. Did you sleep well?"

"I did…? Why do you ask? Did you not?"

His uncle nodded to the study. "I was fortunate enough to receive a blanket, but that was all. Imagine my surprise, when I woke up nice and toasty, but my bones beyond sore. You could have woken me, you know."

Mildune sheepishly looked away. "I did not think you wished to be woken."

His uncle grunted, and set a bowl of porridge down in front of him. "Its a wonder how you get anything done with that kind of logic. But enough of that. You should hurry and eat. I need you to pick up some items on your way home tonight. We're running low on meat, and bread. Can you handle it?"

"Of course. I at least know what you prefer when it comes to food."

Mildune took a bite of his food, but an overwhelming taste of salt made him spit it back out. "Gods above! What did you put in here?"

His uncle furrowed his brows. "Now, whatever do you mean? Is there something wrong with the porridge? I made it the same way I always do, only with a little extra sugar."

Berrodin motioned towards the kitchen counter, where two jars of white powder sat beside each other, looking deceitfully similar. Mildune narrowed his eyes.

"Are you certain you used sugar? Not, perhaps, the salt beside it."

His uncle chuckled, and pulled off his glasses, rubbing them on his shirt. "Oh, dear. It seems I might be going blind in my old age. Well, what are you to do? We can't waste the food, and I have to go, so it seems you'll have to eat the rest of it by yourself. Hope you learn to enjoy it! Goodbye!"

With that, the old man bounded out of the room, and towards the front door. As he was leaving, Mildune heard him break out into laughter, before the door clicked behind him. Mildune frowned, unsure if his uncle was truly having trouble seeing, or had done it on purpose to pay him back for the previous night.

After grudgingly finishing his breakfast, or what little of it he could manage before dumping the rest into the wastebin, Mildune grabbed his boots from the closet, and left the house. Once outside, he took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air, before heading off towards the front gate.

There, he met with Perin, and the two returned to the fields, where Mildune went about checking his crops for any insects, and removing any broken stalks. The early morning was filled with fog, which only lessened near midnoon, before finally clearing up by evening. Finishing early for the day, Mildune hurried back to the city, and to the market space, where he followed the scent of salted meat and steaming loaves to the baker's shop.

A small bell chimed above the door as he stepped inside, and looked around. Heated shelves covered the walls on either side, with glass panes to show freshly made buns and a variety of dried meats. A small counter stood alone in the back, behind which a corridor led into the kitchen.

Mildune made his way to the counter and frowned.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Please hold on! I'll be right out!"

A moment later, a young girl came stumbling out, her face hidden by a basket of rolls. With a grunt, she lifted the basket up and onto the counter, before moving her raven hair out of her face.

"Sorry about that. Now then, what can I-" The girl paused, and her hazel eyes went wide. Two dimples appeared on her cheeks as she broke into a smile. "Mildune! What are you doing here? I thought we weren't meeting until the festival? Where's Roalin? Did he come too?"

The girl peered past Mildune, but seemed disappointed when she didn't find Roalin standing there.

"Sorry, Mel. It's just me, I'm afraid. My uncle sent me out for some food."

Melrin's face fell for a brief second, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, well. What can I get for you? We're having a sale on rolls at the moment? Only three bronze for a basket!"

Melrin patted the basket beside her proudly. "Their freshly made too!"

Mildune shook his head. "No, although that does sound tempting. Sadly, my uncle only gave me enough for two wheat loaves, and a pound of beef."

Melrin huffed and pushed the rolls to the side. "That's too bad. You're missing out. I made those by myself."

"Your fathers not here?"

Melrin shook her head as she moved across the room, collecting loaves, and wheighing out a pound of beef. As she wrapped it, she said.

"He's out hunting. Supposedly, the deer herds are all vanishing, and most of the hunters are getting worried. They claim there's a creature in the woods, one of magical origin."

Mildune thought back to the shadows he had seen the day prior, and furrowed his brow. "Has anyone seen it? Do they know what it looks like?"

"I'm not sure. My father won't talk about it," Melrin said, bagging the meat and loaves, and setting it down on the counter. "That'll be seven bronze."

"Seven? But its always been five in the past," Mildune exclaimed.

"Sorry. My father raised the price due to the lack of meat. Now, its three bronze for every pound."

"I see…" Mildune pulled out his coin pouch and retrieved the money. Handing it to Melrin, he took the meat, and waved goodbye. "I'll see you at the festival. Roalin wishes to meet at the old library, when the bell strikes eight. Don't be late!"

"I won't!"

Returning home, Mildune found a note from his uncle claiming he wouldn't be back until later that night, as a project he was working on was taking longer than he expected. Sighing, Mildune made his way to the kitchen, and put away the food. After that, he ate dinner, which consisted of potatoes and dried jerky, with a bit of cream, before moving to the study.

Lighting a lantern, Mildune pulled a book at random off the shelf and sat down to read. His uncle had taught him how at a young age, claiming that with information alone, one could achieve greatness.