[The Morning: A Noisy Wake-Up Call]
The sun hadn't even fully cleared the horizon when my window rattled. Thump. Thump.
"Dante! Wake up! We're burning daylight!"
I groaned, peeling my face off the pillow. I looked out to see Arthur standing in my garden, grinning like he'd just conquered a kingdom. Elena was behind him, looking sleepy but adjusting her bag excitedly.
"It's the crack of dawn, Arthur," I grumbled, opening the window.
"Exactly!" Arthur beamed, practically vibrating with energy. "The city market opens early. If we want the good snacks—I mean, the good deals—we have to move. Come on, Merchant King! Let's sell that button!"
I rubbed my eyes, fighting a smile. The Mithril Button under my pillow felt heavy. Today was the day we secured our future. And apparently, snacks.
[The Farewell: "Be Back for Dinner"]
I got dressed and headed to the kitchen. My mother was kneading dough. The smell of yeast and morning air filled the room. It was the smell of safety.
"Going to the city?" she asked without looking up, a knowing smile in her voice.
"Yeah," I said, grabbing an apple. "We... might be back a bit late. Don't wait up."
She wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron and turned to me. She fixed my collar, smoothing out a wrinkle. "Just be careful, Dante. And don't let Arthur talk you into doing anything stupid. You're the brain, remember?"
"I know, Mom," I said, rolling my eyes slightly—a gesture I would regret for the rest of my life. "I'll keep them safe."
"I know you will," she said. She kissed my forehead. "Be back for dinner. I'm making pot roast."
Outside, Gareth, Arthur's father, leaned out of the barn door holding a pitchfork. "Don't spend all your coin on rusted iron, boy!" Gareth shouted, laughing. "And listen to Dante!"
"We'll be rich when we get back!" Arthur shouted back.
Gareth just shook his head, smiling. He turned back to his work. That was the last image we had of them. Alive. Smiling. Working.
[The Merchant: Uncle Silas and the Lowball]
We arrived at "The Silver Scale." Silas, an old friend of Gareth's, looked up as we entered.
"Arthur? Dante? What are you rascals doing here?"
"Business," I said, placing the Mithril Button on the velvet counter.
Silas adjusted his spectacles. He gasped. Then, his eyes narrowed. The "Friend" mask slipped, revealing the "Merchant." "Well... It's shiny. But fencing this is hard. I can give you... 20 Gold. Just to help Gareth's kids out."
Arthur's eyes went wide. He grabbed my arm. "Dante! 20 Gold!" he whispered loudly, trembling with excitement. "That's... that's two years of harvest! We're rich!"
Elena gasped, her hands over her mouth. "We can fix the roof! We can buy so much flour!"
They were so innocent. I slammed my hand on the counter, silencing them.
"Don't insult me, Silas," I said, my voice cold and flat. "It's Mithril. It's worth 2,000 in the capital. I want 800. Now."
Silas flinched. He looked at me, really looked at me, and realized the "village kid" was gone. "2,000 is market price!" he argued, sweating. "I have overheads! Risk! 800 is robbery!"
"Then I'll walk," I said, reaching for the button.
"Wait!" Silas pleaded. "I... I don't have 800 liquid gold right now. I have 300 Gold in the safe."
I frowned. "Not enough."
"Take the 300 now," Silas urged. "I'll write a binding magical contract. I'll pay you 100 Gold every month for six months. That's 900 Gold total! More than you asked! Think of it as a pension!"
I hesitated. 300 Gold was enough to move our families today. The rest would ensure we never worked again. "Deal," I said. "Draft it."
[The Celebration: Gifts for Ghosts]
We walked out of the shop with a heavy bag of gold and a contract. Arthur was vibrating. "Three. Hundred. Gold. I can't even count that high!"
I looked at them. They were ecstatic. I felt a surge of affection. 'We did it. We won.'
"Hey," I said, stopping in the middle of the market street. "We're not going back yet."
Elena looked worried. "Why? We should hide the money!"
"We have 300 Gold," I smiled, channeling my inner rich merchant. "Let's spend a little. Let's spoil them."
We went on a spree.
For Arthur: We went to a blacksmith. I bought a sturdy, sharp Iron Shortsword. Arthur drew it from the scabbard, his eyes shining. "Real steel... I'm a knight, Dante! Look at this balance!" He slashed at the air. Whoosh. "I'm going to show Dad," Arthur said proudly. "He'll finally let me guard the fence properly."
For Elena: I bought a soft, yellow summer dress with lace trimming. "It's too expensive!" she protested. "It matches your eyes," I said. "Wear it for dinner."
For Mom: I bought a thick, warm wool shawl, dyed deep blue. She always complained about the cold in the mornings. "She'll never be cold again," I thought.
For Gareth: We bought a bag of the finest pipe tobacco in the city. "He's going to choke on his tea when he sees this," Arthur laughed.
We left the city, laden with packages, laughing, eating honey-glazed meat skewers. We were the happiest kids in the world.
[The Return: The Smoke]
"I'm going to race you!" Arthur shouted, the sword strapped to his waist clinking against his leg. "First one to show the gifts wins!"
"You're on!" Elena laughed, running after him, clutching her dress.
I walked behind them, carrying the shawl and the tobacco, smiling at their joy. We crested the final hill. The sun was setting.
"Hey..." Elena slowed down. "Is that... fog?"
I looked down into the valley. My smile vanished. The box of tobacco slipped from my hand and hit the dirt.
It wasn't fog. It was Black Smoke. Thick, oily pillars rising from the exact coordinates of our homes.
[The Glitch: Denial]
The world flickered. My System Glitched.
(Flash Vision)
I wasn't on the hill. I was in the square. I saw my mother wearing the blue shawl I just bought—but it was stained red. She wasn't humming; she was screaming. A sword descended. SLASH. I saw Gareth holding his pitchfork against a knight. A spear pierced his chest. THUD. SILENCE.
(Vision Ends)
I gasped, stumbling back. "No..."
"Dante?" Arthur asked, turning back. "What's wrong?"
"NO!" I screamed, shaking my head violently. "It's a lie! The dream is lying!"
I grabbed the bag of gold. "I have the money!" I yelled at the smoke, at the System, at Fate itself. "I bought the gifts! We are celebrating tonight! I fixed it!"
"RUN!" I screamed.
We sprinted down the hill. I was praying to every god I didn't believe in. 'Mom is waiting for the shawl. Gareth is waiting for the tobacco. Arthur has a sword to show them. This isn't how the story ends.'
[The Arrival: The Gifts in the Mud]
We burst into the village square. The prayer died in my throat.
The fire was real. The heat hit us like a physical wall. And there, in the mud, lay the bodies.
arthurs parents. Dead. My mother. Dead.
Arthur dropped the new sword. It clattered onto the stones next to his father's lifeless hand. I dropped the blue shawl. It landed in the mud, soaking up the blood of the woman it was meant to keep warm.
The 300 Gold in my pocket... The contract... The gifts... It was all trash. I had won the trade. But I had lost the war against Fate.
[WARNING: Tragedy Confirmed.] [WARNING: Protagonist Mental State Critical.]