𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝙸𝚗𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 || ᴀꜱᴄᴇᴅɴᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋᴡᴏʀᴍ

三

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙴𝚛𝚒𝚜

I was named Eris before Franziska.

Normal childhood with my parent running a small liquor business, a loving older brother. We were plain cheap commoners.  Eventhough we're poor, our hearts were always bright. Me and my brother would go outside the gates to gather wood when I'm fine while mother sells the liquor my father made at the center market. Everything was going well and great. But things change.

Mother died.
Father became aggressive.

He had to raise two children, make and sell products, he felt overwhelmed. Of course me and my brother tried to help.

"What?! Do you I CAN'T RUN THIS HOUSE?!"

It was his pride that destroyed him.
Days passed and he gave up. He drowned himself in addiction. He'd make alcohol while drinking it, he'd cause commotion with customers to the point that no one would buy .
Next, we would definitely drown in debt. We were already poor, what more did he want?

Brother had to start his apprenticeship and I had to take over most of the work when he's away.
My tasks were simple; gather wood, clean the house, and sell liquor. But my weak constitution can't handle it. I had to get bed ridden for days.  My brother had to take care of me .
I became another one of his burden.

One day, he packed his clothes and left me a word;

"I'll be back, alright? I'll take you somewhere far from here . I'll come to pick you up, so hold the fort for me"

He left to become a boarding apprentice . Back then, I didn't know. Yet I held unto his words.
I did my best to take over all the chores. It was difficult, even when I'm sick, I have to do it. Or else father might unleash his monstrosity at me.

When he had gotten worse, I had to sell the liquor. Not that anyone would actually buy it.
I'd sit there, hope for someone to buy even a single jar to ease my father's financial worries.
Calling out my product didn't work, even when I'd yell it out loud, people would only take a glance and continue walking.

Days would pass, with only two to five jars sold everyday. My throat eventually started to hurt, and my fever would come and go any time of the day.
It was finally the time I though to hang my head low and give up.
With a stick to draw and the dry ground to temporarily imprint the vivid imagery of a group of children playing outside the gates that I once belonged to.

But then, a day came. A woman started talking loudly, dressed in neat clothes, catching everyone present's eyes and ears in an instant. As she started to tell a story, narrating and acting out, she earned the joy of people. She made me laugh with the way she talked with silly different voices, awkward brief silence between her characters, and with the conclusion of her story.

The story she told still stuck to my brain until now; a man went to buy and eat a bowl of noodles in a stall after overworking. After he finished a bowl, the owner asked for the 12 dalcs as payment. The customer counted each of his coins; "one, two, three, four,.five, six, seven, eight, nine,...- What time is it?" The man asked midway, which was then answered by the owner ; "it's ten" then the customer continued, "eleven, twelve. Here you go"
And left.

It would've been a plain boring story about deception with the story just ending with the man pettily keeping a dalc with him as he left. After the performance, I was astonished with how the entertainer carried the story, and I was sure other people thought the same when some of them started giving the woman money. I could see the shimmering copper from afar before the crowd became bigger.

When the wave of people dispersed, my legs took me to the woman. I though she would judge me from my state, yet she happily talked to me.

"Do you get to go to other cities?"
"Can I earn the same money as you??"
"How can I be like you?"

I asked her questions after questions, wanting to become a travelling entrtainer  in the future to escape our house.

Since then I started creating stories in my head, reenacting them, and then I arrived at a thought.

"If that person could catch people's full attention with her skill, would it work as and advertisment for a liquor?"

It sounds dumb but I went on with it. My goal was to hone my confidence and earn money at the same time.  So I started creating a fictional story about liquor, it went on every variations that I now couldn't remember which one was the original.

First day and I did catch the people's attention. They didn't buy liquor, but they did give me some coins. I was delighted with the money I earned myself.

Second day, after remaking the story, some started to buy. The same as the next few days, my income was up and climbing. But when my father would take over, not a single coin woild be bought back home.

When it's my turn to sell, I'd always wait for that travelling entertainer, but the day never came.

One time during lunch, I was drawing a better version of a normal liquor jug while munching on a piece of bread when a man came up to my stall.
A guy dressed finely in lunch when most people is inside their homes or workplaces, it was unusual, yet I put my brad aside and greeted the customer with a smile.

"Hello! What kind of liquor woild you like to buy, sir?"

The man frowned before pointing at a jug of each kind.

"How much?"
He asked.

"Hm. That would be two medium coppers in total."

"I'll take it."
With that he left with five jugs.

The man then became a frequent customer, as he asked me some questions everytime he drops by.
I didn't mind answering them, although I did dodge the highly personal questions.
One time he asked a question that I  didn't know would change my life for the better.

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

Note:
The story the travelling entertainer told was the Rakugo story titled "Tokisoba" or "Time Soba" in English,
by Shunpūtei Shōta.

Sorry for the late update, just yeeted out of the hospital. Not gonna be able to update next week, bc I'm drowning in schoolworks rn ~_~

ー冥。