Chapter 2: the market

"You should take Alex out every now and then," my father said one morning, his tone casual but firm. "They say if children don't see the sun for too long, they'll catch a curse in their legs."

I stifled a laugh. He was talking about rickets, a condition caused by vitamin D deficiency. I wondered if this was common knowledge in this world or if my father was just repeating an old wives' tale.

My mother stiffened, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "It's just a myth," she said, her voice tight. "We shouldn't take those things seriously."

My father rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Come on, Metha. It's been eight months. No one remembers that Alex isn't my biological son. And the Zodek house has certainly forgotten all about you and him."

The mention of the Zodek house made my mother flinch. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table harder. "You don't know that," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You don't know what she's capable of."

My father sighed, running a hand through his short brown hair. "Metha, we can't keep him locked up forever. He's a child. He needs to see the world, to play with other kids. What kind of life is this for him?"

My mother's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away quickly. "A safe one," she said, her voice breaking. "I won't risk losing him, Gerro. Not after everything we've been through."

My father stood, his chair scraping against the floor. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I know you're scared," he said softly. "I am too. But we can't let fear control us. Alex deserves more than this."

My mother looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "And what if they find him? What if Lady Varosa hears about a red-haired boy with golden eyes? What then, Gerro? What then?"

My father's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned to me, his light brown eyes softening. "What do you think, Alex? Don't you want to go outside? To play with other kids?"

I hesitated, glancing between my parents. I wanted to go outside, to explore the village and see the world beyond our small house. But I also understood my mother's fear. The Zodek house was a beast waiting for us to make the wrong move, a constant threat and I guess we have to adapt.

"I... I want to go," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't want to make Mom sad."

My mother's face crumpled, and she pulled me into a tight hug. "Oh, Alex," she murmured, her voice choking with tears. "I just want to keep you safe."

After a long, heated argument, my father finally convinced my mother to let me go outside—but only around the village, and never to the city. It was a small victory,but come on anything outside the house is better.

The village of Hando was simple. About twenty to twenty-five country houses dotted the landscape, each with a small garden out front. Some gardens were fenced off, filled with crops ready for harvest, while others merged into one large open space where children played and men trained with swords, their muscular and sweaty bodies glistening in the sun.

My mother carried me as she chatted with the other women, their conversations were all about mundane topics like lunch plans and children's ages. I watched the kids playing tag and hide-and-seek, their laughter echoing through the air. The men practiced sword techniques, their movements fluid and precise, like a performance at a circus.

I learned that our village was named after its founder, Hando, whose descendants still served as village chiefs. It was a peaceful place, a one that you won't find similar to it in my previous life.

When I asked my mother to show me the village boundaries, she hesitated but eventually agreed. To the east was a dense forest, with towering trees tangled together. The sounds of birds and unseen animals filled the air, a symphony of nature that was both beautiful but scary. Hunters armed with bows and swords entered the forest, their coordination testimony for their experience.

To the west was a vast plain, used by villagers to travel to the city and other villages. And to the south, a massive mountain on the horizon, blocking the view of what lay beyond. My mother explained that it was the deadly mountains, an uninhabited mountain area they say if someone is lost there he will die from starvation but if he somehow could afford his food then the bandits will be generous enough to help him eat his rations. 

And finally the north, it was the road to a different kingdom called "Heaton kingdom", oh by the way the kingdom we are at is called "Sedian kingdom" you can say our village is on the border of the "Sedian Kingdom", and all of these kingdoms are parts of the "Palestone empire" named after the founder magician.

Over the next two years, I began to explore the village on my own, playing with the other children and getting to know the villagers. I grew taller, my red hair becoming smoother and my golden eyes sharper. I was cute by this world's standards.

But my curiosity was insatiable. The other kids often went to the market in the city, and I longed to join them. The problem was my mother. She was fiercely protective, and the last time I'd been out of her sight for too long, she'd nearly had a breakdown.

So, I devised a plan. I needed accomplices—kids who could help me sneak away without raising suspicion.

Mok, my four-year-old neighbor, was my best bet for a stand-in. He was simple-minded, eager for fun, and would do anything to listen to a good tale. But deceiving him so plainly felt cheap. No, I needed something better.

Jol, a kind and bright five-year-old girl, was my perfect guide. She went to the market daily with her mother and knew it inside and out. More importantly, she had a soft heart—compassionate enough to help me with good enough puppy eyes, even if it meant breaking the rules.

And lastly, Seper. The reluctant ten-year-old leader of our little group. Old enough to be taken seriously, he won't bother if everyone goes to hell , the only thing he cares about is to be at his father's shop in the city on time or he will be ready for a good beating. He escorted the kids to the market every day on his way to his father's shop, and his presence would make me look less suspicious.

The trick was getting past my mother.

I knew Mok loved adventure stories, particularly the kind involving hidden treasures and brave heroes. So, the night before my planned escape, I told him a story "one about an ancient hero who had to stay hidden while his doppelgänger took his place to deceive the demon king. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and just as I expected, he wished aloud that he could be part of such an adventure.

I leaned in, whispering, "What if I told you... we could make it real?"

The next morning, when I found Mok and the others waiting for Seper, I acted hesitant, conflicted. Jol, ever perceptive, immediately asked what was wrong.

I sighed dramatically. "I want to go to the market, but my mother would never allow it. She thinks it's dangerous. But I had the most amazing dream last night... about a hero who needed a stand-in so he could sneak away to a grand adventure. It felt like a sign."

Mok gasped. "Like the story you told me?"

I nodded solemnly. "Exactly. But I could never ask someone to do that for me... It would have to be someone really brave."

Mok puffed up his chest. "I'm brave!"

"But it's not just pretending," I warned. "If my mother finds out, she'll be upset. The hero's stand-in has to be smart, too. He has to stay in bed, hidden, just like the tale."

Mok hesitated for only a second before nodding. "I can do it!"

Jol bit her lip, her concern evident. "Are you sure about this, Alex?"

I turned to her, my golden eyes wide with innocent determination. "I just want to see it once. I'll be careful."

She sighed. "Alright... but you stay close to me the whole time."

Seper arrived shortly after, his usual grumpy self. "The little prince is coming today? Did your mother actually agree?"

I met his gaze without hesitation. "She said as long as I'm with my brother Seper, she'll be at ease."

Seper snorted but didn't argue. "Fine. Let's go. But don't slow me down."

The journey to the city was uneventful, but the market itself was a whirlwind of activity. Stalls and shops lined the streets, each section dedicated to a different category—food, military equipment, raw resources, clothes, and livestock. The air was filled with the sounds of haggling, laughter, and the occasional shout of a soldier breaking up a fight.

What i noticed everyone was giving me weird glances as if when they see me they wonder something, i asked Jol innocently "hey sister, why is everyone glances towards us like that?"

She mumbled with a sigh "i knew it was a bad idea"

And then she looked at me little anger in her eyes "it's because of your eyes they.. They don't belong here"

I wanted to argue and clear all the question marks in my head right now but,

Jol held my hand tightly, her grip firm and reassuring. "Whatever you do, don't let go," she warned. "The market can be dangerous."

I nodded, my eyes wide with wonder. But when we approached the slave section, Jol pulled me back, her face serious. "You can't go there," she said firmly. "It's not safe."

I wanted to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped me. Instead, I followed her lead, i was really shocked that there are even slaves here, I mean I know this world can be cruel but damn, even slaves are too much.

When we returned to the village, my heart sank. My mother and Mok were waiting at the entrance, my mother's face pale and tear-streaked. Mok looked guilty, his head hanging low.

And in that moment, I realized—sneaking out was easy. But facing her now...

That was the real challenge.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he mumbled. "I had to pee, and your mom saw me on the way to the bathroom."

My mother glared at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and relief. "Alex," she said, her voice trembling. "What were you thinking?"

I swallowed hard, my stomach churning with guilt. "I just... I wanted to see the market," I whispered.

My mother pulled me into a tight hug, her tears soaking my shirt. "You scared me," she murmured. "Don't ever do that again."

I nodded, my own eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Mom. I won't."

As I held her, a single thought burned in my mind—I had to build a home where my mother would never have to shed another tear, where fear and sorrow could never reach her again. My choice may have caused this moment of pain, but the true source of her suffering was that wretched count's family. They were the ones who stole her peace and our freedom, and one day, I would take them back.