"Bread! Fresh bread, piping hot-"

    "Hey, miss, want an apple?"

    "Fine silks, fine silks for sale!"

    The cacophony of the outdoor market rings in my ears. Vendors of all sorts fill the narrow aisles, peddling their wares to all the people walking by. I'm not interested in bread or silks though; I'm looking for one stall in particular.

    "Fine jewels, fancy jewelry-"

    "Would you like a sweet, darling?" A vendor darts into my path, holding out a large piece of candy. I do like candy, but I'm on a mission, and anyway, I don't feel like getting scammed today.

    "No, thanks," I tell the man.

    "Are you sure? Sweet food for a sweet girl," he sing-songs, waving the candy in my face.

    I don't want to cause a scene by pushing him away from me, so I just walk faster, until he gives up and goes back to his stall. This is why I hate coming to the market: all the people trying to take advantage of me simply because I am a girl. For whatever reason, the vendors assume that a young woman unaccompanied is an easy target. I've seen countless girls get scammed or robbed in the market before, and it's disgusting.

    I leave the food and luxury items sector and venture into the maze of object stalls. Random junk is piled high on tables, and customers idle by each stand, haggling over prices. I continue through this area until I reach the section I was aiming for - the weapons sector.

    This is arguably the most dangerous part of the market, since every table has enough weapons to arm a small village. The people here are dangerous too; men bulky with muscle and concealed arms, sneaky vendors who will not hesitate to use their wares against you. But I walk with my head held high. I belong here just as much as any of those men. 

    It's rare to see a female hunter, since the majority of girls in Kyrilla are only trained in housekeeping and not in weaponry and fighting. But just because it's rare doesn't mean it's impossible. I make my way to a stand selling knives first. I test each one, feeling the weight in my hands and gauging how easily I could wield it.

    "Hey, girl! You gonna buy that?" the vendor sneers at me. Great, another skeptic.

    "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," I respond, pulling out my coin pouch. "How much is it?"

    "How much you got?" the vendor replies. I'm used to this sort of scamming. Never let the vendors know you have lots of coin.

    "Not much," I say. "How much are you asking for it?"

    "For you, lovely lady, fifteen silvers." He holds out his hand, and I shake my head.

    "No, that's much too high. I'll buy it for five silvers," I counter.

    He was clearly not expecting me to challenge him, and a satisfied smile spreads across his face. "Oh-ho, a bargainer. I haven't seen one of you in a long time." He's obviously referring to the fact that most girls don't know how to haggle with dealers selling weapons. Food, sure. But something so "manly" like knives, most women would just take the deal and leave.

    "Five silvers, counter or hand it over," I say firmly.

    "Ten," he tries.

    I consider my options. "Seven."

    He holds up his hands, grinning, "You, miss, got yourself a deal."

    As I walk away from the market, I mentally take stock of what I purchased. If I want to make it into the Hunt this year, I need to up my game. New weapons, new armor, and food. I had bargained brilliantly today, and managed to get a knife, a sword, a shield, and a new bow, set of arrows, and quiver for just twenty-two silvers. My armor, custom made, was a bit pricier, but I had clearly impressed all the arms vendors with my negotiation skills. I let my mind drift to my father, who had taught me how to shop like that.

    My parents, who were in the lowest class of citizens, had been hoping for a boy who could get into the Hunt and supply them with food and coin. Instead, they'd gotten a girl. And before my mother could have another child, she died. This shook my father quite a bit, since not only are girl hunters rare, he'd also just lost his wife, but he bounced back and decided that if his wife was gone, he would raise the child to be strong and resilient. And hopefully, girl or not, he could get a child into the Hunt.

    But then he died, when I was twelve. He'd already drilled into me all the tips and tricks of the trade; how to haggle, how to shoot, how to set snares, to skin and cook and eat. Which berries and plants were poison, which were food. But he'd left me on my own, with no living relatives to take me in. Orphans in Kyrilla are put into the System, sold to the upper classes for "the joys of having a child" (but everyone knows it's really for labor). I obviously didn't want to go into the System, so I ran away.

    And for the past five years, I've been fine on my own. I work as a seamstress at a shop in Village Stanton, and it pays well enough for me to get weapons and train for the Race. But I know that if I get into the Hunt, all my troubles will be over. With no family to get the food and money compensation, I will get to keep it.

    All I need to do is survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written July 12, 2023

Word count: 953