The next morning Jasson left the humble chapel with a skip in his step, the sun-warmed morning dew ascending to the skies around him. They hadn’t tried to sacrifice him on an altar in some hidden cellar, despite the number of pentagrams. It's a wonderful thing to have people surpass your expectations. Of course, the Clergyman had been weird during breakfast. It wasn’t anything outrageous, but the Clergyman kept asking his thoughts on the state of everything.

How was the bed? How was the food? How was the paint peeling on the steeple within appropriate wear and tear for church support? Jasson had nodded as he scrolled, devouring the breakfast of breads and meat paste. Was he supposed to leave a review or something? ‘Five stars, clean bed and no blood sacrifices’?

As Jasson walked through town he dug at the stringy meat between his teeth from last night’s dinner. It was hard to tell the buildings lining the street apart, but the Clergyman said he couldn’t miss it.

“Let’s see,” Jasson said around his probing finger, “the pawn shop was…ah. Of course. I’m getting good at navigating without Maps.”

The pawn shop had a large display table outside, marking it easily on the street. This table was laid with a wealth of monster parts and weapons twinkling magically in the morning sun. It was obvious what this area dealt in, and Jasson saw a bright-looking kid sitting by the display.

“Hey,” Jasson said confidently, “I’m looking to sell. Who’s in charge of appraisals here?”

“Old man Fitch.” The kid eyed Jasson, “Ya don’t look like the fightin’ type, but if ya got any monster bits I tellin' ya right now we have enough. It’s not worth the gold for anything lower than a lesser dragon heart. An' we have three of those already, but there’s a buyer which-”

“That’s fine,” Jasson said, “Thanks kid.”

Jasson walked into a pawn shop for the first time in both lives. It had a beyond strange smell and there was dust on almost everything. The store overflowed with weapons in barrels and various crystals on every shelf. An old man in the back was idly rolling a glowing crystal the size of Jasson’s fist.

“Welcome to Cabul’s Pawn,” the old man said, “I’m Cabul. Come to sell another monster crystal? Or maybe pawn a sword for a bit more gambling money? I can tell you right now that we don’t have any buyers for lesser crystals. Even the Capital is full up. I bought so many before I heard that… A sword won’t get you much either. I only sell swords when they bring fresh troops these days, and most of those got their own from…”

Jasson started scrolling through his phone. Cabul kept teetering on and on about his concerns, and Jasson managed to watch a new TikTik from a man building his own jet. Suddenly the old man slammed a hand on the desk, making Jasson jump.

“Listen to me would ya!” Cabul said, “Or at least tell me to stop!”

“Sorry,” Jasson said, “Stop talking please.”

“Not like that!” Cabul slumped, “Oh what’s the point. You came in to sell right? Hurry up.”

“Yes,” Jasson said, “but not crystals or weapons. I have some items. From a long way away. Rare, never seen before.”

The old man perked up and said “Unique items? Not related to war? I doubt it, but let me see them.”

Jason took a breath, preparing himself. He'd spent all morning working on his pitch. After all, there was no reason to sell his shirt when he had money.

“Look here,” Jasson pulled out a one-dollar bill, “An ancient and intricate work of art. Yet the ink will never smudge or wash away.”

The old man looked suspiciously at the dollar. Then, with surprising agility, he took it from Jasson's hand and held it up. Cabul squinted, adjusting it to the light.

“It's awfully crumpled,” Cabul said, “did you have this in your pocket?”

“Where else was I supposed to carry it?” Jasson said.

“Your Locker,” Cabul said, “it wouldn't get crumpled in there.”

Feeling like he was back in high school Jasson said “No one told me about a locker. I don't have a locker. Was I supposed to get a locker? What would I put in the locker?”

“Eh?” Cabul said, “Oh, sorry. I figured that your family would have gotten one for you. Let me go ahead and look at this art with a lens.”

Then Jasson saw magic.

Cabul reached into the air and a portal appeared, expanding into the world as a magic circle forming around a sparkling void. Cabul reached through and pulled out a jeweler's lens, blowing the dust off of the glass. Jasson stood, mesmerized. An extra-dimensional storage ability? Like in the TikTiks?

So cool! Jasson thought. How do I get one of those? Could I fit in it?!

After a few seconds, Cabul put the lens down and rubbed his eyes.

“Is it good?” Jasson said.

Cabul snorted and said “You should know that I’m never going to tell you it’s good. It’s a bad negotiation tactic. But since there’s no other pawn shops in this town I’ll tell you outright. Without my lens, it looked rather simple. But the closer I looked…well look here.”

The old man pointed to Washington’s face. “They used hatching instead of blending for the shading, yet the hatching is immeasurably precise. Even the dark backdrop to the face has a near-perfect grid, and then the details… Baroque to say the least.”

“Ah,” Jasson grinned, “What do you think of the back? You haven’t looked at it with the lens yet.”

“The back? Why would-” Cabul flipped the bill over, “By the ten gods!”

The lens reappeared on Cabul’s eye and Jasson scrolled giddily, looking up from his phone occasionally as the old man oohed and aahed. It was definitely worth something.

“What intricacies!” Cabul proclaimed, “A one-of-a-kind piece of art! I will buy it.”

Yes! Jasson thought. I got Rizz!

“Actually,” Jasson pulled out another one-dollar bill, “I have two.”

The second disappeared from Jasson’s hand as the old man fervently compared them. Jasson leaned on a barrel filled with swords as he waited, taking some pictures of the stuff for sale. These would be cool to post on-

Nope. Jason thought. One way only. Gotta remember that.

“They’re a set!” Cabul said, “A couple of changes, but the rest is identical! Were these- no! Woodblock printing? But it’s impossible to get that fine with wood. Metal? That’s conceivable, but surely the ink…”

Cabul looked up, years dropping from his face with the sparkle in his eye. Then he saw Jasson’s grin and he groaned.

“All right youngin',” Cabul said, “You got me. I’ll give you twenty gold for each.”

“Thirty,” Jasson said, having no idea what twenty gold was worth.

“Fifty for both,” Cabul said, “And that’s the best I can do. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m giving you that much. I don’t have anyone to sell it to, and the closest possible one is two days away.”

“Deal,” Jasson said, “Pleasure doing business.”

“Excellent,” the old man bustled into the back and came out after a couple of minutes.

“This is fifty gold,” the old man said, plopping a fat bag on the counter, “Go ahead and count it.”

“I’m good,” Jasson said, “I-”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Cabul said, plopping a set of old-fashioned scales onto the counter. “But count it out. Make sure you have what we agreed on.”

Jasson may have had to get out his calculator but he got there in the end. Strangely satisfied, Jasson scooped the pile of coins back into the bag and tied it shut.

“You’re not very good at this, and could use more practice.” Cabul said as Jasson stood with one foot out the door, “Of course, I’m out of practice myself. I advise that, if you have more to sell, you auction it directly in Stalt. Or better yet the capital. While you’re in Stalt it would also be best if you purchased a Locker. My son has a shop in Stalt. Look him up. He might have some available. Here.”

The old man handed Jasson a simple business card and said “Thanks for brightening my week. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Jasson tucked the card into his pocket without thinking about it, “Have a good day.”

All right, Jasson thought as he dodged a scampering gaggle of kids on the street, how much do I actually have? Hmmm… There’s got to be an app for that.