Artist: Annika Kuiper
In the morning, as the porter said to Sabathran, there was a sale in the palace. They were selling 10 Dragon’s Tears to those who could afford it.
People gathered on the east side of the palace, from poor people to the wealthiest nobles. Then, an old man with colourful clothes came out and stood on the stage.
“Lads and lasses! Gentlemen and ladies! This morning! Our glorious Emperor Purandar Conomor von Helian has bestowed us one of his countless virtues! That he allowed us, to sell 10 Dragon’s Tears that could cure Black Blood, in the cheapest way possible!”
People cheered at the fact that they can cure their families and friends who were infected by Black Blood.
“The price of each bottle is,” he then pulled out a small note from his pocket, and Sabathran who just came started to listen.
“500 golds!”
“What?!”
“500 golds?!”
“This is insane!”
The price he announced, made the calm crowd, turned into chaos. Some cried for they don’t have enough money to buy even a single bottle of it. Some others started to leave the place, either with ill intent or not. And the few rests of the nobles stayed and bought the Dragon’s Tear with their money.
Sabathran then came near the person who sell the Dragon’s Tear.
“Kind Sir, can you please let me know how to get the Dragon’s Tear myself?” asked Sabathran to him.
He faced Sabathran, and it felt as if he was disgusted by Sabathran’s appearance before him.
“Wait, are you? Okay, but heed my words young man,” he spoke.
“Yes, Kind Sir?”