Story 1 – The Debt of the Invisible Aroma
The coastal city of Aurelia was a place of endless wonders, but for Pippin, the greatest wonder was always found in the street of the bakers. Every afternoon, while Zadok sat under the shade of a palm tree studying ancient scrolls, Pippin would find his favorite spot: leaning against the warm stone wall of Madame Zola’s Bakery. He would close his eyes, tilt his head back, and take deep, dramatic breaths.
“Ah, Zadok,” Pippin sighed happily. “I don’t even need to spend a copper. Just inhaling the scent of these cinnamon rolls is like a five-course feast for my nose.”
But the peace was shattered when a heavy, flour-dusted hand clamped down on Pippin’s shoulder. It was the Baker’s husband, a man with a chest like a barrel and a face that looked like it had been carved out of a very grumpy potato.
“Got you, you little thief!” the man bellowed, shaking Pippin so hard his teeth rattled. “I’ve watched you for three days now. You stand there for hours, stealing the aroma of my wife’s hard work without paying a single coin!”
A crowd quickly gathered. In Aurelia, people loved a good argument almost as much as they loved a good meal. “But I haven’t touched a single crumb!” Pippin protested, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground.
The Baker’s husband wasn’t listening. “Ten silver coins!” he demanded. “That is the rent for the ‘Aroma of the House.’ Pay up, or I’m dragging you to the City Guard.”
Zadok stood up slowly, dusting off his robes. He stepped into the center of the circle and bowed politely to the angry man. “Sir, I must apologize for my friend. You are absolutely right. A debt has been incurred. Pippin, hand me your coin purse.”
Pippin looked at Zadok in total betrayal. “Master? You’re taking his side? I’ve only got twenty silver coins to my name!”
“Every coin, Pippin,” Zadok said, his voice firm.
Reluctantly, Pippin handed over the leather pouch. The Baker’s husband reached out his greedy hand, his eyes gleaming with the thought of the silver. But Zadok didn’t hand it over. Instead, he gripped the bag tightly and began to shake it vigorously right next to the man’s ear.
Clink. Jingle. Chime.
Zadok walked in a slow circle around the merchant, ringing the bag of coins like a bell near his head, then his chest, then his back.
“What are you doing?” the man snapped, getting dizzy from turning around. “Give me the bag!”
Zadok stopped and tucked the pouch back into Pippin’s belt. “The debt is fully paid,” he announced to the crowd.
“Paid?!” the merchant roared. “My hand is empty!”
“My dear sir,” Zadok said, his eyes twinkling with sharp logic. “This is a matter of fair exchange. My friend here enjoyed the smell of your bread, which is merely the invisible shadow of the food. In return, I have given you the sound of his money, which is merely the invisible shadow of the silver. You haven’t lost a single loaf of bread, and he hasn’t lost a single coin. You have been paid in the exact same currency you were selling: thin air.”
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles. The Baker’s husband stood frozen, his mouth hanging open like a landed fish, while Pippin beamed with pride and straightened his collar.
As they walked away, Pippin whispered, “Master, that was brilliant. But honestly? My stomach doesn’t care much for shadows. Can we go find some actual bread now?”
Zadok laughed, patting his friend on the back. “A fair point, Pippin. Logic is a great appetizer, but it makes for a very poor dinner.”
Review The Chronicles of Zadok Story 1.