Donkey Skin and the Young Man

"Let me see..."

Rorschach took it. The water had not soaked into the taut donkey skin, and the noon sunlight made mottled points of light shimmer across it.

"A Spirit Talisman! Leather tanned by the Flash Tribe... I know, it's one of that old antique dealer's scams... Nine out of ten of his goods are fake... I kept it only because I have nothing else!"

The writing on it was in ancient Yabberish:

To possess me is to possess all things, save for life once lost, as you experience at every moment.

A voluntary trade is fair, regardless of what lies on either side of the scales.

May your wish be fulfilled, may your wish be fulfilled.

Each time your desire is granted, I shall shrink once.

"The gods will permit it. Let us hope so!" Valan said the final line in a trembling voice.

"You know Yabberish too? You're neither a mage nor a priest. You must be a noble."

"A noble!" He gave another bitter laugh. "That title is worth nothing."

"Nine fakes and one genuine article... Mr. Valan, the one in your hands may be real." Rorschach returned the donkey skin to the young man. "But I still want to advise you to hand this sinister hide over to the church."

According to Magic Detection, the donkey skin was covered in a faint glow. If he had not been holding it while casting the spell, he likely would not have noticed it at all.

"You want me to hand over my last bit of property, if it can even be called that!" The young man took the hide and clenched it tightly.

"If you don't want to, how about selling it to me for one Jin?" Rorschach felt the hide might be worth studying. Granting wishes, taking lives. It looked like a devil's bargain, but this world had only Evil Gods and their servants. During the Silent Age, even the true gods had vanished without a trace.

"One Jin?" Valan jolted. "Sir, you and the other two esteemed mages saved my life. I haven't even had the chance to thank you properly! But is this one piece of donkey skin really worth a gold coin to you? I'd rather not cheat you!"

"If you don't want to, forget it. Good luck." Rorschach was hungry and unwilling to waste any more time. He headed toward the Stomach of Valuana with his Senior Brother and Senior Sister.

Valuana's grand market was quieter than when Rorschach had come before. Two children ran past one after the other, one clutching a chicken and the other carrying a length of sausage, with wheat straw still stuck in their hair. At the edge of the market, beside a butcher's shop, stood a small restaurant that already had several customers inside.

The server was a woman in a greasy apron. "What will you three have? Today we've got roast chicken, stewed pike, beef, and the freshest vegetables."

"And pies! Lamb pies, almost out of the oven!" The kitchen was behind the seating area, and the pot-bellied owner added in a booming voice.

A customer behind Rorschach took a sip of light beer. "You're in luck, catching this place's freshly made pies. If I had the money, I'd eat a whole one by myself!" Apparently, this restaurant's pies were quite good.

"Since I'm treating you two, you choose first." Only then did Rorschach realize that a little place like this had no menu—its patrons might not even be able to read all the words.

"Then I'll have the mixed vegetable stew and one pie."

"Is the beef clear-stewed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then bring us one serving of clear-stewed beef and two slices of bread."

Rorschach felt they had ordered a bit too much staple food, so he added a roast chicken.

The other customers all glanced at their table, as though such "big spenders" were rare in this establishment.

The stews arrived quickly. They had evidently been simmering in pots, ready to be ladled out whenever someone ordered.

The mixed vegetables came on a wooden plate. They seemed to have been roasted first and then boiled, their edges slightly charred as they lay limp in the vegetable broth. The clear-stewed beef was called "clear" because the broth had no potatoes or flour added to thicken it, leaving it a bright amber color.

In a palace or a restaurant on the middle levels of the Starlight Torch Tower, they might have removed the carrots, celery, onions, and other ingredients added to the stew. Here, however, these "broth scraps" filled half the small cast-iron pot, making the scant beef look more substantial.

"Wait before you eat." Paulina wiped down the table, looking somewhat disgusted by the grease she could not fully clean away.

Once the steaming pies were served, Rorschach noticed Paulina fiddling with something beneath her robes. He activated Magic Detection, and fine glimmers of light flashed over the entire table of food.

Rorschach lowered his voice. "Purify Food?"

Paulina nodded.

Pascal looked astonished, as if he were meeting this woman for the first time. "When did you learn Nature School spells?"

"I once wanted to study at the Tower of the Forest."

"True, food safety is important." Rorschach ladled the clear broth into bowls for his Senior Brother and Senior Sister. "That reminds me of a story. Two human adventurers were poisoned, and neither a priest nor a druid could do anything about the toxin."

Pascal fished out some beef and asked, "What kind of poison was so powerful that even a druid couldn't cure it?"

"Don't interrupt. That's not the point." Rorschach tore off a small piece of bread and dipped it in the vegetable stew. "Then a giant stepped forward, speaking clumsy Common Tongue. He said, 'Let me try!' Then he cast a divine spell, and both adventurers were cured of their poison. Their whole bodies even became squeaky clean, as if they had taken a bath."

"How did he do it?"

"With the spell Senior Sister just used."

"Huh?"

"I know! That big guy who cast the spell was an ogre!" Pascal proudly revealed the answer.

"Interrupting people at critical moments is not what a good listener does." Paulina seemed to have accumulated many grievances against Pascal.

Pascal lifted his bowl and drank the soup dry. "It's just that Junior Brother's joke was too old. Hey, eat up, eat up."

The lamb pie was indeed delicious. Tender leg meat had been cut into strips along the grain, mixed with onions and pepper, then wrapped in flaky pastry. The trapped juices and fat mingled with the softened crust as they were chewed, making it irresistible. The little restaurant and the mouths of its diners were instantly filled with the pie's fragrance.

"Sixty-three copper coins, customers." With twenty copper coins to one silver coin, paying was naturally no burden for Rorschach, but he was still somewhat surprised. "We haven't even ordered any drinks."

"Customers, you ordered good ingredients, and grain has been a little scarce since the start of winter this year. We had no choice but to raise our prices."

After a full meal, even the winter wind outside no longer felt so cold. The three of them went to the market's seafood section and bought a pound of small mixed fish for Gaisde. Prices in the market were indeed higher. Rorschach saw Floran had set up a table and chairs beside the seafood section, with standard weights and a small booklet marked in charcoal on the table. Floran himself was snoring loudly beneath a Felt Hat.

"Everything's gone up." Only Ten Days had passed, yet vegetable and grain prices had generally risen by ten percent. Even with Rorschach's shallow, former engineering student-level understanding of life and economics, he knew the inflation was serious.

"Brother Rorschach, are you planning to carry those stinky things all the way back?"

"Oh, right." Seeing that no one was paying attention, Rorschach used Frost Touch to freeze the fish solid and stored them in his storage ring. He needed to sort through the things in the ring one day.

That was how they returned to Dupont Avenue. The first thing they saw was still the imposing den of extravagance. Just as the three passed by, a young man rolled out of it, followed by four burly men.

The young man lay on his back on the ground, staring upside down at Rorschach. It was Valan, the very man who had failed in his attempt to enter hell of his own accord.