The Obscure Merchant
By Wei Darkscribe(why Aizen_Sosuke_1844 at least i wanted to be Wei Darkscribe)
The market was loud.
Wei Chen had forgotten how loud. Merchants shouting prices, customers haggling, chickens squawking in wooden cages, the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of a butcher's cleaver hitting wood.
He walked close to his mother, hyperaware of every glance in his direction.
They came often. Quick looks, then away. Whispers behind hands. A woman pulling her child closer as they passed.
Lin Mei pretended not to notice. Her basket hung from one arm, her other hand rested lightly on Wei Chen's shoulder. Protective. Casual.
"We need rice," she said quietly. "And vegetables if Old Zhao has anything decent."
Wei Chen nodded. He didn't trust his voice yet.
The rice merchant's stall was near the market's center. Burlap sacks lined the front, each labeled with grain type and price.
Lin Mei inspected the offerings while the merchant — a heavyset man with a perpetual scowl—watched them.
"Two measures of long-grain," his mother said. "The usual."
The merchant scooped rice into a cloth bag, tied it off, and set it on the counter. "Eight copper."
"Last week it was seven."
"Supply's tight this week. Eight copper." The merchant's eyes flicked to Wei Chen, then away. His tone wasn't hostile. Just... firm. Final.
One extra copper. Not enough to cause a scene. Just enough to make a point.
Lin Mei's jaw tightened. But she counted out eight coins and took the bag.
They moved on.
At the vegetable stall, Old Zhao greeted them with his usual gap-toothed smile. At least until he saw Wei Chen.
The smile didn't disappear, exactly. It just... shifted. Became tighter. Less genuine.
"Lin Mei. Good to see you." Zhao gestured at his produce. "Fresh cabbage today. And radishes."
Lin Mei selected vegetables, placed them in her basket. Wei Chen stood quietly, hands clasped in front of him, trying to look harmless.
"Heard your boy got magic," Zhao said carefully. "That true?"
"It is."
"Darkness, they say."
"Yes."
Zhao nodded slowly, like he was digesting difficult information. "Well. That's... something." He gestured at the vegetables. "Fourteen copper for the lot."
"That's more than usual."
"These times, you know."
Wei Chen understood perfectly.
They were being taxed. Not officially. Just... informally.
But it was calculated. Smart, even. Not enough to justify confrontation. Not enough to prove malice. Just enough to make his family pay for his existence.
His mother paid without further argument. They collected their purchases and moved through the crowd.
Wei Chen's hands curled into fists. His shadow rippled slightly before he forced it still.
Control. Don't react.
The anger burned, but underneath it was something colder. Respect, almost.
They weren't being stupid. They were being careful. Punishing him just enough to feel powerful, but not enough to provoke retaliation when he grew stronger.
Wei Chen filed that away. A lesson in restraint. In calculated cruelty.
Someday, he'd use it himself.
"Ignore them," his mother whispered. "They're afraid. People do stupid things when they're afraid."
"Shouldn't they be punished for it?"
"By who? You?" Lin Mei's voice was gentle but firm. "Wei Chen, you're five. You can barely control your magic. If you lash out now, you'll prove them right — that you're dangerous."
Wei Chen swallowed his anger. She was right. He knew she was right.
But knowing didn't make it easier.
They were finishing their shopping when Wei Chen noticed the stall.
It wasn't large. Just a small wooden table covered with odd trinkets — carved stones, small glass bottles filled with colored liquids, scraps of parchment with symbols drawn on them.
And behind the table sat a man who didn't look away when Wei Chen met his eyes.
Merchant Liu was perhaps forty, with sharp features and observant eyes that seemed to calculate the value of everything they touched. His clothes were nicer than most vendors' — silk rather than cotton, well-maintained rather than patched.
He wasn't looking at Wei Chen with fear. Or disgust. Or even curiosity.
He was looking at Wei Chen the way Wei Chen's father looked at good clay. Appraisingly. Professionally.
Like he was assessing value.
"See something interesting, young master?" Liu called out.
Wei Chen hesitated. His mother was two stalls away, inspecting fabric. He glanced at her, then back at Liu.
"What are you selling?"
"Magical curiosities. Minor enchantments. Novelties for those with more money than sense." Liu gestured at his wares with a slight smile. "And occasionally, genuine articles for those who know what they're looking at."
Wei Chen approached the table. Up close, most of the items looked like junk. Cheap crystals. Bottles of colored water. Fake talismans.
But one object caught his eye. A small black stone, smooth and cold, sitting in a wooden bowl.
"May I?" Wei Chen gestured at the stone.
"By all means."
Wei Chen picked it up. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt something. A faint resonance, like his magic recognized something familiar.
"You feel it," Liu said. Not a question. A statement.
"What is it?"
"Shadow quartz. Very minor magical material. It resonates with Darkness affinity." Liu leaned forward slightly. "For most people, it's just a pretty rock. But for someone like you... it's a tuning fork. Helps with control. Focus."
Wei Chen held the stone, feeling that subtle vibration. "How much?"
"Five silver."
Five silver. That was... more than Wei Chen had ever held. More than his family spent on food in a week.
"I don't have that."
"I didn't expect you would." Liu reclined in his chair, studying Wei Chen with that same appraising look. "But I'm curious. You're the Darkness mage everyone's been talking about. The five-year-old with intermediate-level affinity."
Wei Chen said nothing.
"Do you know what makes you valuable?" Liu asked.
"My magic?"
"Your rare magic." Liu tapped the table. "Water mages are common here. Six in ten mages on the Western Lands have Water affinity — it's the dominant element." Liu tapped the table. "Earth, Air, Fire — less common, maybe one or two in ten. Light, rarer still. But Darkness?"
He smiled. "Darkness mages are one in hundred. Maybe less. And an intermediate-level Darkness mage in a small town? You're a statistical anomaly. A precious resource."
Wei Chen's chest tightened. "I'm not a resource."
"Everyone's a resource, boy. The question is whether you let others exploit yours, or whether you learn to exploit it yourself."
Lin Mei's voice called from nearby. "Wei Chen!"
Wei Chen set the stone down carefully. "I have to go."
"Of course." Liu waved a hand. "But think about what I said. Magic is valuable. Darkness magic especially so. People will pay for your services eventually — protection, intimidation, specialized work. The question is whether you'll understand your worth when that time comes."
He pushed the shadow quartz across the table. "Take it. Consider it an investment."
"I can't afford—"
"I know. That's why it's an investment. I give it to you now, for free. And when you're older, more skilled, more useful..." Liu's smile widened. "Perhaps you'll remember the merchant who saw your potential when everyone else saw only fear."
Wei Chen stared at the stone. At Liu. At the transaction being offered.
It wasn't charity. It was a calculated move. Liu was buying future leverage.
And Wei Chen understood that.
But he also understood that declining would be stupid. The stone was useful. Liu's patronage, even this manipulative version, was better than nothing.
"Thank you," Wei Chen said, pocketing the stone.
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't earned it." Liu leaned back. "But I think you will."
Wei Chen found his mother, and they left the market.
All the way home, Wei Chen felt the stone in his pocket. Smooth. Cold. Resonant.
And in his mind, he turned Liu's words over and over.
Magic is valuable. Darkness magic especially so.
People will pay for your services.
Understand your worth.
He'd never thought about magic that way. As something with economic value. As leverage. As a path to wealth.
Elder Shen taught control. Discipline. Responsibility.
But Liu... Liu was teaching something else. Something colder. More practical.
Magic is a resource. You're valuable. Act like it.
That evening, Wei Chen sat in his room, holding the shadow quartz.
He channeled magic into it, felt the resonance strengthen. His control improved — not dramatically, but noticeably. Shadows responded faster. More precisely.
The stone worked.
Which meant Liu knew what he was talking about.
Which meant maybe — just maybe — there was merit to his philosophy.
Wei Chen had spent a week learning to manage fear. To control magic. To exist in a world that looked at him with suspicion.
But Liu was offering something different. Not survival. Profit.
"Magic is valuable," Wei Chen whispered to the empty room.
He thought about Elder Shen's lessons. Control. Restraint. Responsibility.
Then he thought about Old Zhao charging double for vegetables. The rice merchant's cold eyes. The invisible tax his family paid for his existence.
Responsibility was important. Control was necessary.
But wealth?
Wealth meant freedom. Meant power beyond magic. Meant his parents wouldn't pay extra at market stalls. Meant choice.
Wei Chen closed his hand around the shadow quartz.
Two paths were forming. Elder Shen's path — the righteous mage, controlled and disciplined.
And Merchant Liu's path — the pragmatic operator, valuable and wealthy.
Wei Chen was five years old. He didn't have to choose yet.
But someday, he would.
And when that day came, he suspected he knew which path would call to him louder.
The one that paid.