The mont Zane stepped beyond the Caelum estate gates, the air felt different—brighter, fresher, alive. He had to squint as sunlight poured across his face, warmth he hadn’t felt in years.
And then the people.
So many people.
Zane couldn’t help but stare. A woman balancing a basket of fruit on her head. A child tugging at his mother’s skirts. A guard yawning at his post. He stared and stared until, inevitably, they stared back.
One man with a scar across his cheek glared so hard Zane almost tripped over himself.
"Right," Zane muttered, forcing his eyes down. "Note to self: people don’t like being stared at. Shocking discovery."
Still, curiosity tugged at him like a leash. He had never seen the world in motion like this—so noisy, so ssy, so... real.
But all that wonder crumbled the second sothing else caught his attention.
Sniff. Sniff sniff.
Zane froze.
"...Is that... roasted chicken?"
The sll was heavenly, a golden trail of spice and sizzling fat that lured him down the street like a siren call. His stomach growled. His shadow pulsed behind him in agreent, like it could taste it too.
Before long, Zane found himself in front of a stall where a man was lazily turning a spit over glowing coals. The chicken’s skin crackled, juices dripping down into the fire with a hiss.
"Hello, young lad," the man grinned, all teeth. "Would you like a piece?"
"Yes," Zane said imdiately, leaning forward like a beggar. "How much is it?"
The man’s eyes flicked to Zane’s clothes—noble fabric, even if wrinkled from travel—and his grin widened.
"One gold coin."
Zane blinked.
"...One... gold coin?"
Was that cheap? Expensive? His parents only gave him two. Was he already broke before even reaching the academy? Suspicion stirred, but his stomach growled louder than his brain.
"Fine." Zane fished out a coin and handed it over.
Before the man could pocket it, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
Zane turned. A woman with auburn hair tied back in a ssy bun strode over, hands on her hips. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she had the look of soone who didn’t tolerate nonsense.
"Don’t mind her," the man—Dirk—said quickly. "She’s a bit crazy."
"I am not crazy, Dirk," the woman snapped. "Now why would you treat the poor boy like that? Give him back his gold coin."
Dirk’s face twitched. After a long mont of glaring at her, he slapped the coin back into Zane’s palm.
The woman pulled out two bronze coins, dropped them on the counter, and slid a piece of chicken toward Zane.
"There. A fair price. Two bronze."
Zane blinked at her, then at the coins. "...Two... bronze?"
She sighed. "You really don’t know anything, do you?"
"...What do you an?"
"You were about to be scamd," she said bluntly. "No, pardon —you were scamd. Just not for long."
Then she patiently explained:
100 bronze = 1 silver.
100 silver = 1 gold.
100 gold = 1 jade.
Zane’s jaw dropped as realization hit. "...So that ans he tried to sell chicken worth—worth—"
"A fraction of a fraction of a coin," she finished.
Zane looked at Dirk, betrayal in his eyes. "...You monster."
Dirk just shrugged.
The woman handed him the chicken. "Eat before it gets cold."
Zane bit into it, crispy skin and juicy at exploding in his mouth. His eyes lit up instantly.
"...Worth it," he mumbled around a mouthful.
The woman rolled her eyes but smiled faintly before walking off. Zane licked his fingers clean, his shadow mimicking the motion. For the first ti outside his mansion walls, Zane didn’t feel trapped.
He felt alive.
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