**Chapter 42: Wister Town**
In the scorching desert, the yellow sand danced wildly, as the blazing sun rose from one end of the sky and gradually sank to the other.
With twilight setting in, clusters of lamps flickered to life between the mud huts of the town, coalescing into a flowing fire against the dim backdrop, sketching out the bustling vibe of the small earthy town amidst the desert evening.
This little town was known as Wister Town, located east of Meiser Town, nestled in the weathered valleys of the Bahama Plateau Desert. Although it was quite remote, in terms of size and population, it was certainly no match for Meiser.
Probably because it was closer to the upstream of the Red River, the winding waters slithered past the wind-eroded remnants, connected to the town by a broad route. Along the way, sparse shrubs and tall purple trees dotted the landscape, while traveling merchants crossed the river, coming here to snag some of that desert-exclusive tree sap and serpentinite from the rocky layers at low costs, only to resell it at a hefty profit back at Nogowai Sea Port for sunscreen and asbestos manufacturing.
As night approached, the small mud town was still quite lively. The little market to the north was bustling with activity, filled mostly with travelers from afar. They were hoping to try their luck before darkness fell, scoping out the rare agate stones from the unsuspecting local desert folk at bargain prices.
This earthy town also had its share of shrubs and purple trees, looking well-groomed. The trees lining the north and south streets were lush and orderly, adding a touch of exotic flair to the town. Outsiders often marveled at the fact that in such a desolate place, there existed such colorful town scenery.
At this very moment, two seemingly young girls—wrapped in headscarves and veils, with slightly dirty robes, looking worn out from their travels—stood at the entrance of the market in the north, gazing up at the tall trees, deep in thought.
After a bit, the shorter girl pointed towards a bustling group of passersby and suddenly piped up, “Sister, the market is still going! Let’s go take a look? If we’re lucky, we might snag some food…”
“How?” her older companion replied, scratching her face, “Do you have any money?”
“Nope…”
“Neither do I.”
The young woman shrugged at the little girl, her tone dripping with exasperation, “I lost my coin pouch ages ago. My mom sewed it for me herself… and here, there’s no St. George, nor a currency exchange… even if there was, I wouldn’t be able to get any money out.”
“Are you afraid the church folks will find out?”
“Yep!”
As they chatted, they began heading towards the market.
“If I go to the currency exchange and withdraw money, the church people will definitely know I’m here…”
“It’s fine, sister! You can barely see any St. George currency exchanges in this desert; there’s only one way east by Nogowai Sea Port… So, there’s no way to get money; you don’t have to worry about that, hehe!”
“… What’s so funny about that?”
“Beats me.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Betty doesn’t know, eh…”
“We don’t have money… without money, we can’t buy food, and who knows, we might end up sleeping in the street tonight… Why don’t you go over there and try begging? Pretend to be pitiful and see if any kind-hearted soul gives you some cash, then you can go buy food.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll just… hide and watch you from afar.”
“Hey, why…”
“No reason. Just to keep you safe from bad people. But if you don’t want to, then forget it… I can go without eating.”
“But sister, you must be hungry too, right?”
“Um…”
The two girls pushed through the somewhat crowded crowd, arriving at the liveliest spot of the market, where numerous stalls were selling raw stones—leftovers from the daytime, but still drawing plenty of people squatting in front, sifting through the stone piles.
It’s said that some real gems only show up at this hour, which is why there were so many hopefuls trying their luck. This situation would likely continue until the sun sank and night fell, at which point people would drift back to nearby taverns to celebrate their daily catches with a few drinks.
Aside from the raw stone stalls, a few shabby food shacks lined the adjacent area, mostly selling roasted meats, little lizards, and weird insects. The preparations were crude, leaving everything looking questionable at best.
Yet young Betty was genuinely starving. Drawn by the aroma of roasting meat, she tugged at her older sibling and squeezed into one of the shacks, not even bothering to check what was being grilled, and asked, “Uncle, what do you have to eat?”
“Get lost, get lost!”
The burly uncle grilling meat barely glanced up. He saw two dirty little girls with covered faces and assumed they couldn’t afford to pay, so he impatiently waved them off, “Where did these two little scamps come from? Scram! Don’t bother me while I’m working…”
“Uncle, kind uncle, we—we’ve been hungry for a long time… do you have any leftovers that no one wants? We can exchange something for it!”
Betty pleaded softly, while rummaging through her sister’s bag. But after digging around, she found nothing of value.
The only potentially valuable item they had was the short sword hanging from the young woman’s waist, which was absolutely off the table for trading for food. Even if she did show it, no one here would recognize its worth.
Then the uncle barked again, “What do you have to trade? Get lost, you poor beggars! Consider yourselves lucky; I’m not one of those dirty Nedlin people, I don’t need your scrawny bodies.”
He kicked at Betty, but missed as the older girl quickly pulled her back. The girl’s veil fluttered slightly, and at that moment, a sharp, somewhat intimidating gaze shot from behind the veil towards the uncle.
“Uh…”
He froze for a second, instinctively taking a step back, realizing he had been intimidated by a little girl’s stare. A few passersby glanced over, making him feel a little embarrassed. He chuckled and shook his head, wanting to kick again but somehow refraining.
“I don’t have any food here. Go make trouble somewhere else! Scram, scram! What a hassle…”
He waved them off, ignoring the two girls further.
The young woman glared at the uncle again and pulled little Betty away from the stall. Once they squeezed through the crowd, they whispered to each other, then moved on to find food elsewhere.
But at the next stall, it was mostly the younger girl doing the talking. The older girl simply followed behind quietly, seemingly too shy to ask herself, yet her eyes kept darting longingly at the food, occasionally swallowing hard.
What could they possibly barter for a taste?
Even if the food didn’t look that appetizing…
But isn’t it always worth a sample first…?
Holding onto that thought, the young woman accompanied the girl, asking several stalls, but each time they faced disappointment, as nobody was willing to give them any food.
Life for these desert-dwellers was often hard. Many lived day-to-day, and their characters became rough and unyielding, always measuring profit and loss. Furthermore, with the area being remote and lawless, there were plenty of homeless kids around. The beggars they encountered weren’t treated kindly, often chased away with a few harsh words, and if they persisted, they might just find themselves on the receiving end of a beating—no one would care.
Thankfully, for some reason, today, no one bothered to rough up the two little girls swaggering about asking for food. Even if they were scolded a few times and shooed away, it was a bit of luck—some bystanders shook their heads lightly, feeling relieved that these two unfortunate little girls hadn’t faced something worse.
Yet, such luck probably wouldn’t last through the night…
No, they might not even survive until dark.
“Wait a moment, Betty.”
Suddenly, just as the two girls made their way to the other end of the market to ask around again, the older girl frowned and tugged at the back of the little girl’s collar.
“Don’t go yet. Someone’s watching us…”
