A Crime

Another day in the village of Altijara, another day of selling their goods. Another slow day.

Spices and knick-knacks hung from the ceiling in bundles, books pushed into cramped shelves and stacked in delicate—wobbling towers, shelves lined with various bobbles and bottles. Their store contained various things, from antique to simple ordinary objects—they had it all.

They leaned against the counter, fingers tapping on wood. Eagerly they perked up at the sound of wood hitting wood.

"Welcome-!" They greeted before their eyes land on the large lavender eyes of...a child.

Covered in rags and with dirtied hair and skin, the child holds a neutral expression.

Orphans and street rats were common in this village and they grimaced at their new customer.

Still...a street rat is better than nothing—even though they highly doubt the brat had money to get anything.

"What do you want, kid?"

"Herbs."

The dirty rat had a soft voice and a soft tone, yet it was devoid of any emotion. He points at the various herbs hanging from the wall.

"What for?"

"My sibling." He replied, "They...they are sick."

"How old are they?"

"...6"

"And you?"

"...9"

"Well kid, that's life. If you can't afford to buy anything here, then you can't help your sibling.  That's that."

The rat frowned.

"So you'll let them die?"

"It's a dog eat dog world out there kid. I have bills to pay. I ain't going to spare some of my goods for a street rat."

"I have 1 gold coin." He pulls it out.

It is shiny and treated as if it was precious.

"What do you want?"

They hate how the kid smirks triumphantly as he points at the herbs.

"How much?"

"How many do you need?"

"One bundle."

They huff.

"It's gonna take a lot more coins than that if you're getting a bundle of these herbs. The shuts rare kid, you think I'm taking a gold coin for a bundle of these fellas? Scram."

"But you're the only one who has it."

"Tough luck kid. Now beat it."

"...what if I offer you a service?"

The merchant laughs, slamming their fist on the table.

"Service? Service!? You're joking kid, what's brat like you gonna do?"

"I'm a healer."

"What? Got your class already? I can't see any of your damn tattoos or flowers on you."

"I don't need to." The kid huffs, crossing his arms, "why else do I need herbs?"

"Oh yeah, be a smartass, brat," the merchant hisses, standing up, "I'm not accepting your service or your measly coin. Unless you want to pay 20 coins for a bundle, you're got getting any."

"Not even a stalk?"

The merchant contemplated for a second.

"5 stalks for 1 gold coin."

They sighed, "Alright. Deal."

The merchant walks to the herbs dangling in the air and unravels the string. The rat only watches and waits as they puck off a few stalks of the herb. They are quick to tie the small stalks into a string and toss it at the small kid.

"Now scram."

The boy only grins before scampering off, not a single rebuke made.

The merchant didn't think of anything odd about it, right until they realized that some gold coins were missing from behind the counter.