Roland bit into an apple with a satisfying crunch. The bitter taste permeated his mouth and made his left eye twitch slightly. Good stuff.
Next to him stood Arthur, whose face was comically scrunched up, most definitely not enjoying the taste of his own snack. The bad news could have also played a part in causing his unflattering facial expression however.
“Go, go, Stephan. You can do it! Go, go, Stephan,” Thomas cheered enthusiastically by their side, his share of the apples long gone.
The target of his spiritual support hazardously held a plank in place with one hand, using his other to hammer the nails in. Or at least he attempted to. Body trembling all over, and face perpetually looking like he had just stepped in shit, Stephan tried his hardest to attach the last plank.
He felt bad about being left out of the work and wanted to do the last part himself, is what Roland told the other two upon their return. Some badly hidden schadenfreude from Arthur, and Thomas’s deep admiration, fully spelled Stephan’s doom.
In his defense, he was doing pretty decent work. The previous three planks were attached successfully on his own, though it did seem to require a lot of effort.
“We should end every project this way,” Arthur joked loud enough for Stephan to hear, earning himself a hateful look.
Roland was about to join in on the hazing when he noticed something strange from the corner of his eye. A group of three kids started waving their hands around frantically, pointing down the road.
A quick look showed Roland what had these kids so agitated. Today certainly keeps on giving. It’s only right I get some decent entertainment after our plans got shafted once again. Tapping the railing loudly, Roland got his friends attention.
“Arthur, help Stephan finish. Thomas, with me,” Curt commands given he went to welcome their newest guest.
The other three were momentarily confused, before they too saw the distant figure.
Arthur grimaced while Stephan muttered a curse under his breath, not happy to be seen in such a disgraceful position. Thomas on the other hand happily ran forward, shouting loudly for the whole world to hear, or at least everyone in their general vicinity.
“Claire!”
Off in the distance, making her way over was a radiant young girl, carrying what appeared to be two buckets.
Her chestnut-colored hair was bound in a low ponytail using a sleek looking blue hair tie. She wore a soft linen tunic without any ornaments, and equally simple pants that ended in dainty leather boots.
Despite being of a high quality, these kind clothes were not something a noblewomen would usually wear, being more on the practical side. Nonetheless one look at the girl’s face would instantly destroy any notions of her being of common blood.
Skin the color of honeyed milk, looking like a finely crafted sculpture without any impurities. Still slightly childish features were slowly showing a transition to what will no doubt be an earth-shattering beauty in the near future. Her often present smile possessed the power to make everyone who saw it start smiling foolishly, world peace just around the corner.
Most striking were her azure eyes. They shone with a light that evoked the image of a boundless sky, clear as far as one could see. Although not yet granting the power to soar through the air, one’s steps would definitely float gently across the earth upon gazing into this portal towards the heavens themselves.
The appearance of such a fairy would obviously result in a big commotion, and quite possibly the formation of a fast-growing flock of admirers. This being the slums however made the moment a lot less well received than if it happened anywhere else in Soren.
Some few children stayed, curiously watching, but all of the older residents carefully made their way out of the area, trying their best to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. Though many continued watching from hidden nooks and crannies.
Anybody would be curious about the little angel renowned throughout town, for the people living here however Claire’s aura might as well have been the scorching sun itself, them being tiny snowflakes drifting through the air fearfully.
Her strange companion was another, possibly even larger factor in creating the comical scene of a lone girl scaring away almost everyone.
Slightly behind her at shoulder height hovered a wooden sword. Looking unimpressive in every regard, except the obvious levitation, anyone in the unknown would wonder what exactly this thing was.
However, those that had lived in Soren for some time most definitely heard some stories about it before, and as a result would have developed a healthy dose of respect for it. After all, the City Lord wasn’t the highest authority in the entirety of Seasons for no reason. Being competent wasn’t enough to hold any official position, strength had always been the most important factor.
All these reasons to be awed or afraid of Claire did however have close to no effect on Roland’s group. Because while one was scared shitless of her father, and another had an inherent dislike for the girl, they always followed after their leader.
The latter having very little regard for anything in life except his duty and the best way to achieve it. Claire being her helpful, competent self was more than enough to get in his good books.
Finally, having the mind of a child, their last member obviously would try to make friends with a particularly fluffy wolf if he could. Much less a sweets and snacks giving fairy.
Said hypothetical friend of wolves left Roland in the dust, quickly arriving in front of the new arrival, where he happily spewed forth sentences which might built a coherent story if arranged in a particular order.
Claire herself seemed to enjoy the over-the-top reaction. Mostly due to the novelty of it, as there weren’t a lot of people in her life who dared to interact with her in such an unrestrained manner.
Roland joined the pair moments later, eyes twitching when he heard the heroic retelling of how they had ‘Saved the western forest by defeating a cruel chicken king’, and how the City Lord should probably give them some medals for their great deeds.
“Good day to you, Miss Claire,” Roland interrupted his friend’s ramblings with a polite greeting.
Long ingrained manners taking a hold of her, Claire returned the greeting, “And a good day to you Mister Roland. It is inspiring to hear that you have already achieved great deeds before lunchtime. One can only marvel at how many more vanquished tyrants the day holds in store.” A practiced curtsy completed the impeccable image, though the two buckets she carried felt woefully out of place.
A small shiver ran down Roland’s back, his fake politeness not being able to stand up to Claire’s superior acting. I wonder what they teach these noble children. To sound so polite while making fun of someone, really impressive skills.
Not having been able to distinguish it from a distance Roland now saw the buckets contents, and couldn’t help but once again be impressed at the speed at which information could travel in a town this big. The buckets were full of white paint.
I sincerely hope she did not hear about our whereabouts from the same gutter rats as Stephan. The image of a smiling Claire handing some coins to a shifty looking child seemed a bit too realistic to just wave off. Someone being too earnest can be pretty scary in its own way.
Despite knowing without a doubt what the paints purpose was, Roland did have some trouble imagining the though process that led to her bringing it here. Fingers crossed, he hoped the half-heartedness of today’s repairs wouldn’t come back to bite them once Claire sprinkled her sincerity all over the situation.
“How about you help out, Thomas. I’m sure it was hard carrying these all the way over,” Roland reminded Thomas of his supposed gentlemanly duties.
“Oh, sure thing, Boss,” Thomas replied, eagerly shuffling to Claire’s side. “I’m like the fourth best in carrying stuff, maybe even third if I trip Stephan.”
Got to admire that positivity.
“Why thank you very much, Thomas,” Claire said with a smile, ignoring Thomas worthless statement as she handed him one of the buckets.
Upon which the goofy grin on Thomas face disappeared almost as quickly as any food unlucky enough to find its way into his grubby hands. Not being able to handle the bucket’s weight, he almost fell over. In his panic the chubby boy used both hands to hold it, barely preventing the bucket and himself from crashing into the ground.
Claire had no reaction to Thomas’s apparent struggles and simply continued smiling, though if one were to look closely there appeared to be a mischievous glint in her beautiful eyes.
Roland suppressed an exasperated sigh and stepped on her other side, arm offered for the other bucket. And like Claire pretended not to see Thomas valiant efforts, he too treated the for some reason slowly closing in wooden sword as nonexistent.
Showing an expectant look, Claire gave Roland the second bucket. His arm screamed in pain, but less pride and more a leader’s responsibility prevented him from using both hands. Looking remarkably more stable than he felt Roland nodded towards their companions on the bridge.
“Let’s not keep the others waiting,” he said, appearing perfectly fine, before walking forward. The quick look of disappointment from Claire was politely ignored.
“It has been a while since I saw your fourth member. I wonder if he is still the same as always,” Claire mused, stepping next to Roland in one blindingly fast motion. Her tone made one wonder if Stephan staying the same would be a regrettable thing.
Behind the two of them Thomas slowly made his way forward, too focused on his task to mind being left alone.
Strained but steady, and soft, barely audible steps walked next to each other. A quick glance from Roland showed him Claire’s perfect straight posture, movements flowing like a silent stream. It stung to admit, but Claire, despite being half a year his junior, was without a doubt stronger than anyone in his group. By a wide margin.
While her pure physical strength couldn’t compare to Arthur’s, Roland knew that the kind of speed she was capable of would make it impossible for any of them to lay a finger on her before she pummeled them to oblivion. Coupled with the no doubt multiple Knight Techniques she had access to, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say even ten of him would lose in a fight against a single Claire.
Hard work can never measure up to wealth and influence. Absolute talent might stand a chance, though if I had that I wouldn’t need to basically bribe someone for a recommendation of a recommendation.
There were few things Roland lamented more than his birth. He did not regret the life he had lived and wasn’t ashamed of being a Crescent. But as more and more time passed, he realized that his duty seemed greatly hindered by his background. He could have achieved much more by now if he were of noble birth.
Not like whining about it is going to do anything.
Dispelling the useless thoughts, Roland decided to inform Claire about his decision before they reached the other two.
“I have given your application some more consideration,” Roland started the conversation, sounding more formal than probably necessary, while trying his best not to smile upon remembering the actual written application contained inside the first letter he had ever received. The staff went pretty wide-eyed when they saw the City Lord’s seal on the mail.
Claire’s relaxed face bloomed into another one of her radiant smiles as she remarked, “Seeing that you are mentioning this so soon after my arrival, it should be good news for myself.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
I could just have no tact, couldn’t I?
“Your astute observation is correct,” Roland confirmed Claire’s assumption, happy that she, judging by the slight redness of her cheeks, could pick up on his sarcasm. A skill Thomas either lacked or at least pretended to not have, which made verbally combating his antics a lot harder than it should be.
“We will accept you as a probationary member for two months,” Roland told her seriously, making their ragtag group of orphans sound a lot more professional than they had any right to. “You’ll get an official position afterwards, and your duties will be the same as those of normal members in the meantime.”
If any bystander were listening, they’d no doubt be impressed by Roland’s words, not realizing what kind of bullshit he was spouting. What all of this really meant was that Claire had a good excuse to leave their group should things not pan out.
It would make it have less of an impact if she lost interest after some time like Arthur believed she would. Quitting during a probationary period appeared perfectly fine after all, so people would have less to gossip about.
“Turning meaningless words into a convenient excuse,” Claire muttered quietly, giggling at the most definitely unnecessary precautions Roland took. “Letting your inner politician of the leash?”
I’m not the ones whose father is Seasons’ highest ranking official. Roland mentally retorted, currently not having the faculties to engage in friendly banter due to a diabolically heavy bucket draining too much of his energy.
He continued with matters of actual importance, which also happened to be the other part of this conversation besides his unappreciated excuse Roland had prepared beforehand, “Ultimately we are group of equals. So, while I do take command, I also respect and value all of our members’ opinions.” Some less than others.
“Arthur has expressed concerns about you joining us and I feel it would be for the best if you could try to build a good rapport with him during this time, to show him that you are serious about our activities. Everyone being on the same page is quite important in a small group like ours after all,” Roland condemned his large companion to a hopeless fight against a blade of eagerness, showing not the slightest hint of remorse. "Without any further ado, I welcome you into the Crescent Moon Helpers!”
By the end of Roland’s speech embarrassment started to inquire about his whereabouts, luckily Thomas was too occupied to tattle on him.
“You will not regret this, Leader. I will make the Crescent Moon Helpers proud,” Claire replied seriously, sticking to the more normal way one would call someone like Roland, not yet corrupted by Stephan’s surprisingly convincing ideas about how to make their group sound more important. “But what about that problem?”
Ugh, how can her eyes sparkle when uttering that cursed name. Wait. Once Claire becomes an official member people are going to be hard pressed to call us that. Maybe we can finally get a decent name!
The prospect of redeeming their first naming somehow made Roland way more excited than it should. He fantasized briefly about a new heroic name, before actually thinking about Claire’s question.
Back when she first wanted to join about three months ago Roland had an opinion somewhat similar to Arthur’s current one. Having only briefly interacted with Claire a handful of times in the past, most of his knowledge had been the countless tales and rumors of her.
They propagated everywhere around town since she had moved to Soren, her father’s appointment as city lord being the most shocking event in recent times. For good reason, considering the position had been empty since the war.
‘Well-meaning little noble girl who likes being center of attention’ were the words Roland would have used to describe Claire back then. And while his impression had changed greatly thanks to her effort over these months, to the point that he considered her will to do good one hundred percent genuine, the trouble of her less than pleasant entourage still remained.
The Problem in question being a pair of noble admirers, and their overly large group of followers, who never remained too far behind Claire. Now they all behaved well and acted somewhat politely, excluding the thinly veiled insults and looks of contempt. This however was only true for the previous situations where Claire helped out from time to time using her own ideas.
Now that she joined officially, Claire would be deeply involved in any projects. And her suitors and friends would obviously want to help out, which for minor projects would be a welcome help, bringing untold benefits.
Once a serious problem came along, and it was time came for Roland to give orders, trouble would come knocking. For none of these highborn would listen to his commands.
Them ignoring my orders would probably be the best-case scenario. Those guys are worse than animals when the going gets though.
They’d probably listen to Claire’s demands, but that brought its own set of problems and complications. Not something Roland wanted to deal with if lives were at stake. Which was always the case for him, even if it did not appear so from the outside.
Still don’t have a good solution. Ultimately, I’ll have to see their kind a lot more once I leave for the capital anyway. This can be considered practice.
“Don’t worry about that for now, we’ll see how the situation develops in the future,” once he mentioned the future himself Roland fell into contemplation, before deciding to be more honest with Claire. If she is to become a real member, I should treat her like one.
“To be honest, with Arthur leaving soon we’ll need more help. Which is to a greater part why I reconsidered my earlier stance,” Roland revealed. Best not mention how we were stalling her until the result came in.
Seeing Claire go wide-eyed at the frankness he displayed, Roland added a little cherry on top, “Though your valiant effort as of late has also helped.”
He half expected her to blush at the compliment, Claire’s face however remained strangely serious. Azure eyes looking deeply into his she asked with concern and a tinge of guilt in her voice, “I thought you were going to apply for early admission and leave together?”
Roland was completely blindsided by her question. She knows? Trying to regain his calm he considered the situation more thoroughly. That isn’t even the most important point. If she knew I planned to leave in a few months anyway why try so hard to join our group?
He did not want to seriously consider Arthur’s idea of her having ulterior motives, mostly due to there being nothing of value their group could actually offer, but Roland still felt that things were not quite adding up.
This is going nowhere. We don’t know her motives and also have to way to find them out. Best to just take the good as it comes and hope there won’t be a reckoning at the end. I have no way to resist anyway, so there is no need to look for bad intentions behind a helpful smile.
Roland awakened from his thoughts upon hearing serious huffing sounds closing in on their location at incredibly slow speeds. Abruptly turning towards the source of the sounds, Roland saw his struggling best friend not even five steps away from them. A look at Claire showed her sporting an apologetic expression, most likely regretting her question. Can’t have her involved in this.
“The recommendation did not pan out like we had hoped. Nothing to it. Applying the normal way is perfectly fine,” Roland told Claire, hoping the topic would end at that.
“Of course,” Claire agreed. “Age and strength have never been a prerequisite for great deeds. Whether child or elder, fighter or scholar, the most important thing you need is a noble spirit.”
Roland smiled, half at Claire’s idealistic opinion and half at how strongly he wished he could agree. Much less a requirement, it’s simply that from time to time someone with a noble spirit achieves a great deed. Enough strength and any of your actions becomes one in a way.
Nothing else to say, as Roland wasn’t about to argue the value of intent and results with a heroic little girl, they continued the short track towards their destination. Already stepping onto the bridge on their next step, Thomas had once again been left behind on his lonesome.
Arthur and Stephan had managed to quickly finish adjusting the last plank and now awkwardly waited next to the abomination they created.
Claire’s eyes widened slightly upon seeing the repairs in their full glory.
There certainly was no chance anyone would make it through there any time soon, unless they brought an axe and quite a lot of patience.
“Mister Arthur,” Claire greeted. “Hard at work as always I see.”
“Hello,” Arthur replied, using about as short of a greeting as physically possible. Though he examined the bucket Roland was carrying with interest.
Stephan on the other hand made his best impression of a merchant, very eager to sell his newest batch of trash, “Greetings Miss Fainbright, your presence once again brings great joy to our little group.”
Roland sincerely prayed his own attempts at being polite would never end up at such a retch inducing level.
Claire seemed quite happy for reasons entirely unrelated to Stephan’s boot-licking. She accepted the compliment with a grin, “I always strive to brighten the day whenever possible. But I must admit it is surprising to see you so hard at work, Mister Stephan."
Due to her leaving the ambivalent statement hanging in the air, Stephan’s smile strained ever so slightly. He tried to salvage the situations to the best of his abilities.
“Although I usually deal with organizational tasks, a bit of physical work from time to time certainly…,” feeling a chill run down his spine, Stephan stopped mid-sentence, taking a quick peak towards Roland.
The ice cold look he saw made him swallow involuntarily. Deciding a moment of shame would be better than whatever that face promised, he cleared his throat and started over.
“Truth be told, I may have cut some corners in my last assignment, making this work here disciplinary in nature,” Stephan corrected himself. A child caught stealing cookies could learn a lot from his remorse filled expression.
A snort from Arthur showed how much stock he put into his companion’s words. Claire herself had a disappointed look on her face upon hearing Stephan’s confession. For some reason she seemed slightly off, and her reply showed why.
“Well, that is not good Mister Stephan. But you could not help it, could you? Time constraints often lead to cut corners. And if one spends most of their time in seedy bars or gambling dens like yourself, there is truly never enough time. Am I right?” Claire observed, her understanding smile probably doing more damage than the barbed words. Both together were more than enough to leave Stephan standing dumbfounded, mouth flopped open like a fish.
Arthur laughed loudly at his companions totally lost expression, and even Roland couldn’t fully suppress himself. Though the satisfied look Claire displayed as she glanced at the laughing giant did give him a little fright.
Barely a minute passed after I told her and she is already trying to win him over. This is not quite what I had in mind when I said to build a rapport with Arthur.
Roland often marveled how two people as different as Claire and her father could be related, but moments like these left little room for doubt.
Stepping next to the railing, he put down his bucket, before clapping Stephan on the shoulder. “Seems to me you have had enough action for a day. Consider yourself dismissed.”
The freedom could hardly come at a better time, seeing that Stephan wanted to do little else than get as far away from here as humanly possible.
“Yes, later Boss,” Stephan bid his goodbye. “Arthur. Miss.” A quick nod to each and he went on his way after briefly dodging a stumbling Thomas. Seeing the struggling boy’s pain made his own more tolerable. Slightly.
Roland nodded his head in Thomas direction, prompting the still smiling Arthur to go and help out.
Left alone with the noble girl, Roland asked her, “So you would like to paint this little tragedy?”
Slightly frustrated, more so at the situation than anything else, Claire replied, “I know appearance is not really a priority here, and using time on it is most certainly a waste considering how more important matters could prop up at any moment. But as I said before, I wanted to join the Crescent Helpers and make Soren a better place for everyone. Trying the best in my own misguided way is sadly all I can do.”
Pausing briefly, her expression lightened as she continued, “Of course, now that I am an official member, there will not be any more need for me to come up with awkward ways to help out.”
Her frank words surprised Roland, on second thought however he realized Claire might have taken his previous honesty as an invitation to be more forthright herself. Looking at it from her point of view there truly is surprisingly little to help with today. Not like she could have run over here, hammer in hand, and ask to help out. So the paint was mostly a matter of finding an excuse and not weird priorities on her part.
Understanding about some of Claire’s previously strange behaviors bloomed in Roland’s mind. There had often been weeks without serious projects, instead full of small tasks like these where help is unnecessary. Hard to prove oneself if you never get a chance. Well doesn’t matter now. The die has been cast, let’s see how she’ll handle it.
“I’m sure in the future we will have many chances to make the world better,” Roland reassured Claire, upping the ante a few levels higher.
Claire paid no mind to Roland’s lofty goals and seemed content to finally be a part of their group. Of course, she still did not have Arthur’s approval, but the glow in her eyes left little hope for the stubborn boy’s resistance.
Arthur and Thomas joined them soon, the former shaking his head in amused exasperation. Most likely at the latter’s often seen stubborn streak showing itself once again.
Still holding the heavy bucket, Thomas was determined to see it to its destination no matter who or what may try to stop him. Arthur should count himself lucky Thomas had not thrown him out of the way with pure power of will when he offered his help.
The duo on the bridge saw the situation and deftly stepped aside, fond smiles on their faces as they watched Thomas emerge victorious against the formidable enemy.
“Well then,” Roland announced to the others, only two of which were standing on their feet. “It seems we have a bit more to do before our task is finished. I give Claire the floor.” He clapped his hands in half joking applause, Arthur joining in sarcastically while Thomas simply flopped his hands down on the bridge repeatedly.
Claire, not minding the unusual ovation, stepped next to the paint buckets confidently and with a flourish of her hand made four large paintbrushes appear.
“Let us honor the previous artisans who built this historic bridge, using some paint of our own,” She proudly gave what could be considered an appropriate battle cry, had Roland’s group not previously spit into the faces of everyone who had constructed the bridge with their patchwork abomination of a railing.
Thomas nearly chocked in surprise, eyes wide at the magic trick, whereas Roland and Arthur promptly understood that Claire used her spatial bracelet to store the brushes.
Though one question couldn’t help but blitz through Roland’s mind.
Why didn’t she put the paint in there?