The magical journey of a countryside boy

The rest of the stops went much faster than either of them expected. The workers at the warehouse moved with surprising efficiency; loading the heavy sacks of pig iron and coal seemed like second nature to them. Later, the carpenter already had the bundle of wood scraps tied and waiting to be sold. John didn’t waste the chance, paying the man and loading the sacks into the wagon quickly.

​“Looks like we finished early this time,” John said, smiling at William as he took up the reins. “You wanna roam the city a bit?”

​William stared at him with wide, shining eyes. John laughed, “You don’t need to answer that, kid. I can practically see it oozing from your eyes.”

​They steered the wagon back toward the inn street and returned to the stables. After John finished brushing down the mules, they stepped out and walked toward the bustling main avenue. As they reached the corner, the massive, chaotic view of the city unfolded before William once again. Just as William was about to step into the crowd, John caught his hand, his grip firm. “Don’t lose my hand, kid. I don’t want to face your aunt and uncle without you.”

​William tightened his grip and nodded. The shouting of hawkers pulled his attention away immediately. He wandered toward a woman haggling aggressively with an old merchant. By the time they reached an agreement, the woman walked away with a triumphant grin, while the merchant stood there looking defeated.

​When the merchant saw John and William approaching, his eyes lit up, but they quickly dulled as he noticed William’s vacant expression. Realizing they weren’t going to buy anything, the merchant huffed and turned back into the shadows. William didn’t even notice the dismissal, already lost in the wonders of the city, and John simply steered him forward, completely unfazed.

​His wonder was cut short when a shoulder slammed into him. He turned just as an old woman stumbled nearby, her burlap bag splitting open and spilling vegetables across the cobblestones.

​“I’m sorry!” William blurted out, dropping to his knees to gather the rolling produce. The woman watched him for a moment, then ruffled his hair. “What a polite young fella you are,” she said, her voice raspy but kind.

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​William smiled sheepishly, brushing dust off a turnip. As he handed the bag back, the woman pressed a small, sticky handful of fruit candies into his palm. “I was taking these home for my grandchildren, but a polite kid like you deserves a treat, too”.

​She continued down the street with a genuine smile. William looked down at the candies, then at the bustling street. His stomach gave a sharp, treacherous growl, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since dawn.

​John winced, looking guilty. He pressed three copper coins into the boy’s hand. “Go on, kid. Get yourself something to eat.”

​“I don’t want it,” William said. “We’ll eat back at the inn.”

​“Take it,” John insisted. “Don’t make me feel worse. Besides, you won’t survive the inn’s watery stew tonight.”

​Recalling the dismal fare, William relented, thanking John before darting toward a stall that smelled of sizzling fat. William’s mouth watered as he watched the vendor brush a thick, dark sauce over rotating skewers of meat.

​“What’ll it be, kid?” the man asked.

​“How much for a skewer?”

​“Three coppers.”

​William hesitated, then pointed to a steaming basket. “What about those?”

​“Pork and vegetable buns. One copper each,” the vendor grunted.

​“I’ll take two,” William said, handing over his coins. The man wrapped two hot buns, and William ran back to John, offering him the first one. John smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair before taking the bun. William took a greedy first bite. Steam hissed against his tongue;nearly burning him, but it was the best thing he had ever tasted. It was mostly vegetables, but the rich, savory flavor of the pork was enough to make his eyes close in delight.

​As they finished, a swell of frantic, high-pitched voices erupted from the corner of the market. “From the far lands, from the distant seas—we bring you tales of adventure! And for the little ones, we bring you… MAGIC!”

​The announcement was followed by a wave of laughter. William’s pulse spiked, but John’s hand clamped onto his shoulder, dragging him along. They shoved through the wall of bodies until they reached the front. Two performers stood at the center: a modestly dressed man pacing and shouting to attract the crowd, and another standing motionless, draped in a heavy silk robe that shimmered in the sunlight.

​After a few minutes, the silent man stepped forward and exhaled a wall of fire. The crowd erupted; children screamed with delight as he set cloth ablaze and conjured trinkets from thin air. The adults offered only faint, knowing smiles, clearly unimpressed.

​William, however, felt nothing. His heart remained cold and hollow. It was nothing like the crushing, static-filled awe he had felt near the Old Man. This was just smoke and mirrors.

​As the show ended, the announcer circled the crowd with a box. When it was William’s turn, he quietly fished a single copper from his pocket, dropped it into the box, and turned away.