The Salesman’s Offer (Marzi’s Short Stories)

A long time ago, there was a small town hidden away in the mountains.  It was a peaceful town, where everyone knew everyone’s names and asking almost always led to assistance.  As all towns did, this town had its problems, but for hundreds of years those problems were overcome.

This town was also the childhood home of two brothers: Adem and Marko.  Adem was the older one, with a penchant for swordplay and a love of bugs.  Marko was younger, with a penchant for kindness and a love of his older brother.  Those things did not change, even as the two grew older.

Then, one day, the peaceful town was attacked by raiders in search of glory and gold.  The town’s defenses were not enough to fend them off, and Adem died protecting it.  Marko vowed never to forgive the raiders, and to get revenge for his brother’s death.

Marko trained for years to become a swordsman like his brother, but he was no good.  He tried archery, hand-to-hand, and magical studies, but he was no better at these.  Despite his failings, Marko never forgot his vow.

Some time later, as Marko was traveling, he learned that the raiders he had been searching for had an outpost nearby.  He knew he was not prepared for a fight, but Marko didn’t know when he would get another chance.  He set out for the outpost.

Along the way, Marko crossed paths with an old man, with a cart and mule.  Noticing a barrel of weapons on the back of the cart, Marko inquired.

“Sir, how much for that blade?  The one with the silver pommel?”

“This blade?  Ten gold coins,” the traveling salesman said.

“I have but five,” said Marko glumly.

“Why is it you want the sword?” the old man asked. “Perhaps your reason is good enough to warrant a discount.”

Marko relayed the details of his quest, of the bandits, of the death of his brother, and Marko’s honest skill with a blade.

“Is vengeance truly worth your life?” the old man asked. “Surely your brother would have wanted you to live.”

“I’ve heard it before, old man,” Marko said. “But I cannot quiet my mind.  This is truly worth my life.”

“Ah.” The old man nodded his head and reached for the sword in question. “Five gold pieces, then.”

Marko reached for the sword, but the salesman pulled it back.

“Unless…”

“Unless?” Marko asked.

“You say you want revenge on these raiders, but you do not have the skill to defeat them.”

“I will die trying,” Marko said boldly.

“Would you rather die succeeding?” the old man asked.

Admittedly, Marko was intrigued by proposal.  Without much hesitance, he nodded his head.  The salesman reached into his wagon and pulled out a vial of golden liquid.

“Should I drink this vial,” the salesman explained, “I will die.  My soul will become bottled in its place.  And if you drink my soul, then you will get your wish.”

“Drink your soul?” Marko asked, skeptically.

“Do this, and you will be invincible.  You will find strength you never had.  You will get vengeance for your brother, and your wish will come true.  And once it has, you will die.”

Marko was not a skilled man, but he was a smart one.  To drink the soul of someone, and have his wish granted… Marko asked:

“Who are you?  What is it you want?”

“My name is Lazarus,” the old man said. “And I want what you will no longer need.  What do you say?”

Marko took time to think about the salesman’s offer, but he knew all along what the answer would be.  He was already willing to throw his life away for revenge; this was a better deal.

“Yes, let’s do it.”

The old man drank the golden vial, and Marko watched as the salesman began to grey.  His breath was silver, like the breath of a cold night, but it swirled around and filled the little vial.  When the old man dropped to the ground, he was dead and the vial glowed silver.

Marko did not hesitate.  He drank the soul of the man and felt unbelievable strength.  With purpose, he walked up to the raiders’ outpost.  He was unharmed by a single blade or arrow or spell.  But the same could not be said for the raiders.

By sundown, only Marko was left standing, his body covered in blood.  Marko got his wish, but his final thoughts in that moment will forever be a mystery.

Marko’s body remained still overnight, but not forever.  The next day, it rose with the sun and returned to Lazarus.  He took the cart and the mule and continued on with his route.