In a Civilized Manner

Alderwynn’s morning market was alive with activity, the air thick with the mingling scents of raw meat, fresh produce, and the chatter of countless voices. The stalls crammed against one another in a maze of colours and textures, each vendor eagerly promoting their goods to the bustling crowd.

Edris strolled beside Roos, who leaned on a clutch. Attached to his back was a bamboo basket that was half his size, swaying with each step.

Roos had insisted on taking him to the market that morning, a decision Edris still wasn’t entirely convinced about. The sheer number of people—most of whom seemed to be non-human—was overwhelming, and besides being part of the minority race, his dark hair made him stand out like a sore thumb among the varied, colourful crowd.

“So… where’s the teaching?” Edris finally asked, glancing up at Roos as they wove through the crowds of shoppers.

“Right now,” the woman replied without missing a beat. She didn’t even look down at him, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.

Edris frowned, clearly not understanding. “We’re just shopping for food.”

“Exactly,” Roos said. “The most important skill you need to learn is how to survive, and food is crucial to one’s survival. All the other fancy technicalities come later.”

Edris’s frown deepened.

“What did you think you’d be learning? Magic? Teleportation? Please,” Roos scoffed, her tone dry. “You’re only a child. Learn to cook first.”

Edris opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it, reminding himself that reasoning with the woman would only get him nowhere. Instead, he just let out a sigh and continued to follow her through the market, mentally bracing himself for whatever bizarreness the woman had planned next.

As they moved deeper inwards, the crowd thickened, and Edris began to feel even more out of place. He noticed a group of kids off to the side, their eyes narrowing as they spotted him. He tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the task at hand—keeping the basket steady as it dragged down with every new ingredient Roos added.

It wasn’t long before he felt a presence behind him.

Edris turned slightly, just in time to see the group of kids circled around him. They inched closer, expressions a mix of curiosity and mischief. Before he could react, they had backed him up into a smaller corner in a secluded alleyway, away from the main hustle and bustle of the market.

With his back pressed against the wall, Edris just stood there. For a moment, all he did was stare at the boys hovering around him.

“What?” One of the kids spoke with a huff. His skin was bright orange, and his hair thick with leaves, framing his square-shaped face like curtains. “What are you looking at?”

“I should be asking you that,” Edris replied calmly.

“Alderwynn doesn’t welcome you! Go back to where you came from.” The boy scowled.

Edris blinked. “Do I know you?”

“You..!”

Before the first boy could respond, another kid, with pointy ears and a straw hat pressed over them, stepped forward and reached for the collar of his shirt.

The next second, the kid found his vision shifted sideways, followed by a buzz in his brain.

Only then did he realise that the pale boy with dark hair had slapped him across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed through the alleyway, sonorous and startling. For a second, everyone—including Edris—froze. The boy’s chubby cheeks swelled red almost immediately from the impact, and he stared at Edris with wide, incredulous eyes.

The latter withdrew his hand and curled his fingers in a sequential motion, taking in the burning sensation on his skin with a contemplative expression.

“Hi-hit him back!” The boy cried, eyes swelling with angry tears.

Then, as if on cue, one of the other kids snapped out of it and lunged at Edris. Without hesitation, the latter threw the basket onto the ground, its contents sprawling all over the space between them. He slid sideways, and without a second thought, he gripped onto the closest body to him—which happened to be the poor pointy-eared boy again—and dragged him onto the ground.

The motion was instinctive, without rehearsal. The boy was two heads taller and twice his size. Even then, Edris managed to get him onto the ground by yanking him off balance and, taking advantage of the falling momentum, sending him face-first onto the hard ground.

“Ow!” The boy grimaced with a scowl as he instinctively flailed his arms forward, only to be slapped across the face again, then once more.

This time, the other children found themselves frozen on the spot, unable to move an inch as they regarded Edris beating up the boy against the wall. Anyone passing by would think that it was the latter who started the fight against them.

Edris was trapped in a tunnel vision.

His heart throbbed against his brain. All he could see was the boy in front of him, and all he could hear was the muffled sound of his fist crashing against his face. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him faster, intoxicated, and he didn’t hold back.

He hit the kid repeatedly, each blow sending a surge of undeniable thrill through him.

It wasn’t long before the other children, seeing their friend getting beaten, scrambled away in fear, leaving the boy on the ground, screaming and gaping at him in horror.

However, Edris didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He raised his fist to deliver another punch, only to flinch as a voice echoed behind him.

“Edris?” Roos’s familiar voice called out, snapping him back to reality.

Edris froze, his fist still raised in the air. The boy took the opportunity to scramble to his feet and run off, tears streaming down his discoloured face. Edris lowered his hand slowly, feeling the adrenaline begin to fade and become replaced by the soreness of his knuckles.

He turned to glance over his shoulder, meeting Roos’s gaze. There was a slight discontent in his expression.

“As you can see, I’m surviving.”

Roos’s face was stern, her eyes studying him for a long moment. Then, without a word, she turned and began walking back toward the market.

“Come on,” she said simply. “We need to fill up the basket.”

Edris hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and followed her, falling into step beside her once more. They returned to the bustling market, where the noise and smells greeted them again.

At one of the meat stands, Roos stopped to negotiate with an old woman who ran the stall. Edris watched as the two women haggled over prices, their voices rising and falling in a rhythm almost as lively as the market itself.

“Fifty copper yones,” the old woman insisted, her eyes narrowing.

“Twenty,” Roos countered without missing a beat, her tone firm.

The old woman scoffed. “Do you think it’s a charity I’m running here? Forty-five!”

“Thirty!”

“Thirty-five!” the woman retorted, glaring at Roos.

The latter narrowed her eyes. “Thirty-two and a half!”

The old woman threw her hands up in exasperation. “Are you going to break a yone in half?!”

Suddenly, Roos turned to Edris, who had been quietly watching the exchange.

“Edris, you name a price!”

The boy blinked, clearly caught off guard. He glanced between Roos and the old woman, who both peered at him in anticipation. He thought for a moment, considering all that he’d witnessed and the weight of the decision they were leaving to him. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke.

“Sixty,” he said with a smile.

***

“Seriously, who bargains higher than the original price?”

Roos chuckled to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

After buying off the meat from the vendor at an all-time sixty copper yones high, the two were now heading back to the cabin.

Edris trailed behind the woman, letting her words flow in one ear and out the other. Both of his hands were tucked in his pockets, the subtly stinging still pulsing at his knuckles. It had been a long morning, and he was eager to retreat to his room and escape the hecticness of the day.

When they finally arrived home, he dropped the bamboo basket onto the table with a thud and was about to head off, only to be called to a halt.

“Hold on,” Roos said, waving him over. Edris withdrew his foot, which was half a step from the door, turning back with a hint of reluctance.

The woman was leaning against the table, arms folded as she looked at him appraisingly.

“Do you know what you did wrong today?” she asked, raising two fingers as if talking to a child (she was). “There are two things. Can you guess what they are?”

Edris’s voice was flat, devoid of any actual engagement. “I fought back against the kids, and I said the highest price to the meat shop owner.”

Roos shook her head slowly, her index finger matching the movement.

“First things first,” she began, her tone firm, “there’s nothing wrong with defending yourself. But there’s no point in beating that kid up to the degree you did.”

She glanced down at his hands, noting the bruises that marred his small knuckles.

“See? We call this sabotaging others at the expense of yourself. Not worth it.”

She grabbed his hand gently, examining the damage. Edris flinched instinctively as the sharp pain that shot through at her touch. Roos’s eyes softened ever-so-slightly, but she quickly released his hand and continued.

“And the second thing,” she said, her voice turning grave, “you were trying to steal at the meat shop earlier, weren’t you?”

Edris met her gaze, his pale eyes steady and unreadable. He didn’t answer, but the silence was sufficient. Earlier, while Roos had been deep in negotiation with the shop owner, she had noticed him try to slip a piece of bread topping from the edge of the stall into his pocket.

“Instincts, huh…” Roos muttered to herself with a sigh, low enough for it to be heard only by herself.

Under Edris’s uncompromising gaze, she slumped her shoulders and ran both hands through her hair forcefully, messing it up in the process. Edris only watched as the woman underwent a ten-second outburst, her exasperated voice echoing throughout the room.

The next second, Roos straightened her back as if nothing had happened.

She waved him off toward the kitchen with a flick of her wrist. “Shoo, shoo. Go make lunch; I’m starving! And just so you know, you’re not resting until it’s done.”

She tossed him a recipe, the paper fluttering through the air before Edris caught it. He scrutinised the content that was scribbled on the paper, frowning at the unkempt handwriting. With a yielding step, he took the paper and trudged off to the kitchen.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged back into the living room, his face smeared with charcoal and visible fatigue in his eyes.

“Dishes are ready,” Edris announced flatly, setting the food on the little round table. Roos eagerly joined him, sitting across from him with her chin resting on her clasped hands and a faint smile of approval.

Intentionally evading the woman’s anticipatory gaze, Edris grabbed hold of his spoon and reached for one of the stirred vegetable dishes. But before he could scoop the vegetable, Roos slapped his hand away with surprising speed, the action almost generating a double image.

“Not so fast,” she scolded. “That’s your punishment for what you did today.”

Edris stared at her in silence. He withdrew the spoon and rubbed his hand.

“Punishment? For what?” he muttered under his breath.

Roos’s expression softened as she scooted her chair forward. “It’s important to be a good person in this world,” she said, delivering a piece of mushroom into her mouth. “Stealing, no matter how small, isn’t the way to go.”

Edris scoffed half-heartedly. He leaned back in his chair.

“Being a good person isn’t economical. The world’s not going to break down just because I stole one piece of food.”

Roos stiffened, the mushroom halfway into her mouth dropping back into the bowl. Her eyes shifted from the piece of vegetable to the boy sitting across from her. She studied him, the steam rising off the dish between them, filling the room with the aroma of the meal he had prepared.

With the starkness of his words, spoken so matter-of-factly, it was easy to overlook that he was just a child.

After a second, she picked up her fork, spearing the mushroom again and, this time, successfully popping it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed.

“You’ve got a point,” she admitted, her tone casual. “The world does have a lot of bad people, and adding one more probably wouldn’t change much. But it’s a world like this that makes good people even more valuable.”

She grinned and took another bite, this time of the meat. “Think about it—if you decide to be a good person, you’ll become a rare species!”

Edris stared at her, a mix of disbelief and confusion flickering across his face. He wanted to argue, to tell her how naïve she sounded, but the words stuck in his throat, ultimately replaced by a resigned sigh.

Sometimes, he wondered who the real child was between the two of them.

***

The days began to blend into one another, each one marked by a routine that had become strangely comforting for Edris.

Every morning, Roos would take him to the village’s market, and they would wind their way through the bustling streets, shopping for ingredients, haggling with merchants, and exchanging pleasantries with the Alderwynn locals. The scent of fresh produce and the hum of village life had become as familiar to him as the sound of Roos’s constant chatter.

At first, Edris was sceptical of what he could possibly learn from these daily errands. But as time passed, he found himself grudgingly impressed by Roos’s knowledge.

The woman was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. She taught him how to observe the subtle micro-expressions of someone about to lie about the freshness of their fruits, how to catch jouligulls—a slippery and poisonous fish prized as an appetiser—without being bitten; she explained the reproductive organs of wobbuls in vivid detail, much to his chagrin, and somehow always knew the latest trends in cross-kingdom relationships, even in a village as small and isolated as Alderwynn.

Most importantly, she seemed to understand the hearts of the people around them.

Every day was a new lesson, whether Edris wanted it or not. Roos was relentless in her teachings, forcing him to try everything, from handling fish to discerning the quality of spices…

The only exception was cooking.

After the third round of food poisoning, she had banned him from the kitchen entirely. From then on, he was only allowed to identify ingredients in theory.

“Your skills are even worse than Chere’s,” Roos had remarked one day while Edris was organising the pantry.

Standing on a stool and stacking jars of spices, Edris raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“My bestie.” Roos glanced up with a toothy grin. “Maybe I’ll let you meet her someday.”

At her response, Edris turned away with a dismissive shake of the head.

Bestie—she said.

Who even uses such childish terms these days?

Roos was a constant enigma—unpredictable, frustrating, and yet somehow always one step ahead of him.

As time passed, Edris found himself interacting more with the village.

He noticed how layered even a small community like this could be, with its own intricate web of relationships, unspoken rules, and hidden tensions. At first, he had been wary of everyone, keeping his distance and watching from the sidelines as an outsider who didn’t belong.

But gradually, he grew more comfortable, even making an awkward truce (at least on his end) with the elf boy who had picked on him during his first week in the village. Of course, the other kids still ran in terror whenever they saw him, but Edris gladly took content in that.

Three months passed in this rhythm, the once-strange routine becoming second nature. Edris had grown used to the village, to the people, to Roos’s relentless demands.

Life was almost peaceful, in its own peculiar way.

That’s why, when he came home one afternoon with the daily basket of ingredients, he wasn’t expecting the woman to be standing there with a sparkle in her eyes that could only spell trouble.

“Edris!” she called out, bouncing on her toes with excitement. Her long, green hair was all tied up in a messy bun, and an enormous travelling backpack rested on her shoulders.

“Let’s go on an excursion!”

Edris froze, then blinked twice. “An excursion?”

Roos nodded eagerly, her smile wide. “Yes! It’s time for some real adventure!”

Edris stared at her, the basket of vegetables still in his hands, his mind racing to catch up. Just as he had started getting used to this lifestyle—just as he thought he might have found some semblance of normalcy—the woman was ready to throw it all out the window.

Of course she was.