A cart's worth with Reffe

It is madness. The way this world treats Reffe.
  Work the cart of goods from one side of Whencis to the other during the day, clean the walkway around the side of the city at night, just on an endless loop around the city hour after hour, day after day.
  It is not like Reffe asked for this position, just that they knew a guy who manned a dreadnaught when they were young, and when they came of age to do something with their life – the guy asked if he just wanted a solve, no thought. And Reffe got skuntedinto the position, trading work for one cartful of whatever the spider-touched dreadnaught Captain traded. The problem was that the Captain worked cheap things fast, stuff everyone needed, but no one would trade you what you needed for. Often bulky too, so that each day Reffe could work his sweat away only to be left with barely enough to trade for a drink and some spices to go with the cooked meal Reffe had to scrounge up from his garden each night – if he got back in time.
  Sometimes there might be something interesting in that first cart, something the Captain has missed, but the Captain usually trusts in Reffe’s fear of missing out, and loads all the most worthless things at the start, knowing that the number of runs Reffe does is irregular and so anything after the first is bad news. Other captains work the route, but they have their own cartiers, and Reffe is not sure whether sliding over to a new captain might burn him with his Captain and ignite the entire dreadnaught ecosystem in disdain towards him and his work.
  It is madness that causes Reffe to catch a particularly weird find one day while working, a piece of sheered stone that had been caught up in one of the large bags of nuts Reffe had been asked to move, the sharp stone half poking out through the side of the hollowed gourds that had been made to house and move these consignments of nuts over to the market, and for a whim Reffe had pocketed it, sliding it down to the bottom of his own cart, ready to be taken to market at the end of the day. It was odd, and shiny, and though stone was largely frowned upon, its compact nature meant the worst that would happen is Reffe would return it to the mountain after the cleanup shift should those he trades with not sell it for him.
  He continued the day, the stone mostly forgotten behind the monotony of the day, nuts then dried fruit, then floating lanterns, Reffe’s cart full of knick-knacks and bobbins from the start of the day, it taking too much time to change what’s in his cart too much lest he fall behind and not even get a sniff of the expensive things Captain wanted to get into Whencis.
  By the time Debron dipped beneath the horizon, Reffe was caked in sweat, and the blistering last cart had a single lantern as its victory, and his hands were bringing up blistered after someone had knocked his cart from the waiting shade to be closer to where their dreadnaught would set down. Sometimes, this close to the trade routes, the air was practically humming with un Levis-like emotions, or at least that’s what he believes in those moments he’d catch sounds of the bards hard at work in the town centre, the wafts of song tantalising the ears.
  Still, Reffe hobbled towards the market, tempted to lose the trade of completing the cleanup sweep, knowing that there were always others eager to gain the things left aside for those who did the late night work. He finds his favourite evening market trader, sidling up to Irdu with careful casualness.
  “Do you have anything nice for me to work for?” Reffe says, hoping that what he has is enough. He fidgets from foot to foot, the callouses making hardy plap plaps on the plant floor after hours of walking the limestone paths of the way of goods.
  Irdu smiles and brings out a few seed vials and spice vials, tilting a head plastered with beads of colour and shapes, most amber or sap, some hollowed and stained seeds, and one a special thing that shines with the light, green tinted ‘glass’ from far outside Levis. “You’re going to need more than trash for some of the heavier spices I have. I got something beaut from east of Saburra, coats the tongue in heat and makes the eyes water so well. I know you like those kinds of spices. You just have to have something to trade.”
  The next half hour is a story in disappointment. The lantern had gained Reffe some seeds of some sort of purple savoury melon from Vertus way, the small weight of nuts and fruit gained Reffe fresh fruit that he’d have to either trade in the morning before Captain woke, or eat in the next few days, either way, a waste of cart space in the whole – and the knick-knacks got Reffe Irdu’s pass to the mulch heap, and while an extra serving of mulch for his veggies was helpful, it would mean yet more hard work just before work or after it and sacrificing another day’s dinner.
  And then he’d heard it the snap and tumble of the stone, long forgotten, the two halves rolling uneven across the greshire tarp that was collecting the knick knacks. Irdu got to the pieces first, holding them up towards Morticia, to see if they had any translucence, and frowning as his thumb rubbed a too smooth edge. Reffe sees that face and freezes – he keeps returning to Irdu because the troll treats him with fairness, even when Reffe oftentimes wants favouritism. He practically screams when he watches Irdu bring his hands together, knowing the strength behind those thick arms and hearing all the bracelets on his arms jingle as the force clatters hands together as what little that stone represented is smashed to pieces in one quick clap. Except Irdu winces.
  “Tough blighter that one, thought I might have been wrong for a moment but catch.” He tosses three small rings at Reffe, the foliad barely catching them as his hands and arms are showered in stone dust. “Now I know I have someone I can trade them to, academy born mages, but I need you to trade it to me honest. I’ll not skunt you over if I can help it, but trading to me is possibly not the best deal you can make. Now I can find you a better one, but you’ll want a trademaster and…” Reffe’s brain glazes over at all this trade-talk, looking down at the three shining grey bands in his hands.
  Luck and madness has brought Reffe here, and luck and madness will bring him out of this. “Could I trade this for the spice seeds and a portion of Septum?” Universal trade weight, Reffe could go anywhere in the city with septum and get exactly what he needs – what he wants.
  Irdu sputters, then nods, rummaging through pockets and pouches, opening drawers and unwinding tops on a collection of vases. “I could trade before night’s end for enough to get me septum that that is worth. We’d still need a trademaster to sign off.” He looks at Reffe with a kind of wary respect that Irdu is not used to, assessing him for something that the foliad cannot measure.
  Reffe grows nervous under the troll’s gaze, clutching the rings tighter, not for fear that Irdu will skunt him, but because the value the man is looking Reffe with is something he has not experienced before. “What would you trade the septum for anyways?” Irdu asks, stopping his rummaging as he just stares at Reffe.
  Reffe feels the shining grey rings bite into those heat burnt hands, the sting reminding him of his goals. “I’d trade for a larger cart. All I know is hard work, and the Captain stated that his word would be one cart of goods chosen from the hauls.”
  “You could get a whole line of carts Reffe with the septum these rings will earn you. You had a moment of brilliance there lad, go back to the depths of the magic within you and dream bigger.” This is madness, and Reffe has a lot to think about. But three rings are about to make their way towards a certain academy – the long way round.