Black Market

Olee Goffen reassured himself that he didn't have another choice.  It wasn't as though he wanted to go to a pirate.  He'd much rather have a licensed grammarian repair the flywheel, but his family didn't have the money.  He mused about that: without the flywheel, their boat was dead in the water and they could catch no fish which meant they could make no money to repair the flywheel.  He shook his head at the thought and ducked through the crowd, weaving his small form easily between the adults.


Despite himself, Olee smiled.  Of all the places for a pirate to set up shop, this one had chosen the central market.  As much as he looked up to anyone who knew the art of grammar, he couldn't really approve of glyph piracy, but he did admire the audacity of the location.  His mother had rattled off some old adage about plain sight, but Olee had let it wash through his head as usual.

His brother had told him to look for the crest of a green lenna with gold horns marking a stylus craftsman's shop.  Gold and green were the Goffen clan colors which made it easy for him to remember.  He considered this: gold traditionally stood for wealth, but green meant cunning.  He supposed that it couldn't have been by accident.

He adjusted his heavy satchel and continued to weave through the bustle.  He was small enough that it was difficult to see up through the bodies to where shop signs were located.  Eventually, and not without difficulty, he did manage to find the pirate's not far from the North Wall.  He was surprised that the surrounding stores were completely reputable.  A cafe on one side and paper product store on the other really?

Olee tried to enter as nonchalantly as possible for a ten year-old with an over-sized satchel dangling from his shoulder.

"Is Manni here?" he called.  He hoped so; he had been specifically told to ask for Manni.

A slim man with a short beard and wearing a plain, fitted tunic and pants with too many pockets stepped out of the back room.  Some sort of monocle was gripped in his right hand.  His eyes narrowed as he sized up what little of Olee there was to see then warmed.

"Ah.  Illicit business then.  No one reputable knows me as Manni.  Step back here, please."  He gestured expansively and with a slight bow in the direction of the room he had just stepped out of.  Olee hesitated only a moment before he walked back.  'Manni' followed close behind.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness, but he could only seem to see one wall, the one he had just passed through.  This place was positively cavernous and, as far as he could tell, empty save a cluttered work desk and what might have been a printing press, unlicensed, no doubt.  He also noted that the one wall he could see was decorated with glyphs he hadn't seen anywhere else.

"Let me see what it is you need," demanded Manni who seemed amused at Olee's disorientation.

Olee obediently emptied the stone wedges from his satchel onto the symbol-adorned floor; there were three in all and each bearing a damaged glyph.  Manni raised whatever he had been holding before up to his eye as he inspected each, murmuring to himself all the while.

"So we need an alerrit, and two serphae, don't we?" he asked of himself more than Olee.

Olee still piped up, "No, sir!  That's a becce there."

"So it is.  And you are a sharper boy than you look."

Olee looked down at the floor bashfully and traced a glyph there with his toe.  "No, sir.  If I were sharp I'd know what you've carved your walls up with."  He looked up at Manni expectantly, hoping for some sort of clue as to their nature.  Manni just laughed, however.

"That's because they're my own and no one else's.  Would you like to learn them?  I could use an apprentice."  He caught the look of panic in Olee's eyes.  "Don't worry!  You may speak to your family first, but know that when you come tomorrow for these you can either bring payment or agree to be apprenticed to me."

Stunned, Olee nodded as Manni smiled kindly and shooed him out of the shop.  As he stood in the bright sunlight, he felt as though a whole world had been opened to him.  To think that he might not fish for his whole life was almost too much; to think that he might learn grammar certainly was.  Piracy or not, this was his chance.  Olee scampered home at full tilt to tell his family the news.