“You are not leaving until I finish tending to your hand.” Elincia said as she dragged me into her study. “I swear to the System that Scholars don’t even know how to punch someone properly.”

After the fight, my hand had gotten increasingly swollen to the point I couldn’t completely close my pinkie and ring fingers. As the adrenaline faded, I suddenly felt exhausted despite the actual fighting lasting only a few minutes. Elincia was right about two things, I didn’t know how to punch properly, and my hand needed first aid.

As I sat at her desk, Elincia examined my hand pressing my knuckles with the tip of her fingers.

“Nothing seems broken.” She quickly stood up and rummaged through the drawers until she found a clean roll of bandage and a small glass flask. “This will help immobilize the joints while the balm reduces the swelling.”

“Did you craft this?” I mindlessly asked, my thoughts still on the fight.

“Balms, ointments, and salves are basic alchemy recipes. You can’t even imagine how much the kids use, even with a strict no fighting rule they manage to get hurt.” Elincia replied with a tired smile.

I stood up as soon as my hand was patched up but when I tried to open the door, the doorknob didn’t turn. The key wasn’t in the keyhole, as it usually was.

“We need to talk, Rob.”

I expected to find Elincia’s distrustful eyes on me but, when I raised my head, I noticed she was looking at me with a concerned expression.

“Do I have a say in this?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No. Sit down.” She replied, pointing to the chair in front of her. “You are acting like a maniac, you know? Picking a fight against four armed guards, buying the orphanage weeks worth of food, sharing high quality ingredients with someone you barely know, and I can probably continue. Normal people don’t go around saving orphanages in trouble.”

Despite Elincia’s words, I didn’t register them as an accusation. She was truly concerned about me, which felt weird in its own way.

“I have seen men and women do rash things driven by guilt, hate, or pride. I do believe you have a motivation other than your vocation.” Elincia continued.

Guilty as charged. I knew myself well enough to realize my motivations weren’t completely selfless. Of course, my calling in this life was to be a teacher and help others, but there was more to it. I sighed. My hopes of keeping those reasons buried seemed to go up in smoke.

Elincia had trusted me with her kids, her family. She had opened the doors of her home to me. I owed her at least the truth, but at the same time, it was hard to find the words.

“Are you doing all of this to impress me or something?” Elincia shot point blank without warning.

That level of bluntness was Elincia’s norm, and yet, I was left speechless.

“What? No! Of course not! I am not doing this to impress you.” I replied, bewildered.

I braced myself, expecting a snarky System prompt to pop up but, to my relief, the System remained silent. No stack of Denial, no nothing. It was good to know I was not a total scumbag, although my motivations weren’t completely selfless either.

“You can talk to me if something is bothering you. You have my back, I have yours.” Elincia said with a firm tone. During all the conversation she had maintained a calm yet worried expression, including the part when she asked if I was trying to impress her.

“Would you let me go if I promise to tell you eventually?” I asked.

“Yes. But you also have to tell me why you need a craftsman.” Elincia replied.

“Deal.”

*****

Despite Elincia’s concerns, I went to the Farcrest market in search of Ginz the Craftsman. After the episode with the guards, the atmosphere in the orphanage wasn’t suitable to continue with the classes so I gave the older kids the afternoon off. With conditions, nonetheless. They had to remain in the orphanage with Elincia.

Life continued in Farcrest, unaware of the hardships the orphanage was experiencing. Or maybe they knew and it all fell on deaf ears and blind eyes. My resentment towards the Marquis, the guardsmen, and everyone who left the orphanage to sink, was turning into something else, something more poisonous.

During my years as a teacher I had time after time advised my students against anger and other ill feelings. However, I wasn’t in a mood to listen to my own wisdom. I was in the mood to kick the Great Hall door down and have a strong-worded conversation with the Marquis. I was not going to do it, nonetheless, because I wasn’t deranged enough to throw my life away.

I sighed.

“Every question has an answer.” I repeated my favorite aphorism.

With that in mind I just had to put my head to the problem and find the solution. I just hoped my solution was the right one.

Farcrest’s market bustled with activity. Peasants and merchants crowded the streets hopping from stand to stand, eager to buy and sell. The alluring scent of roasted meats and fresh herbs pierced my nose but I didn’t let it distract me from my goal.

I advanced among the crowd until I found the place Elincia had described me. An unnamed workshop with a hanging wooden sign of a hammer and a needle in the front. I entered silently.

The smell of the tanned hides filled my nose. That scent sent me back to a time I didn’t have memories of. When I was three or four years old, my father had taken me to my grandfather’s workshop outside the city. The images were diffuse but I remembered the smell of the hides and the sound of the leather being worked.

The room, half-store, half-workshop, was dimly lit by a sole skylight. Stacks of leathers hung from the wall, some of them dyed blue, green, and red. Behind the counter there was a large table with knives, leather needles, and thick thread. There were shaves of leather scattered around a pair of nice sturdy boots fit for a wealthy merchant.

A small man with narrow shoulders was hunched over the table, his nimble fingers working on a small piece of leather with the focus of an artist consumed by their art. His black straight hair fell like a curtain around his face hiding his features.

I slammed the counter with my open hand, causing the man to jump from his seat a foot into the air. I felt bad for what I was about to do but dire situations required exceptional actions. And Ginz wasn’t a saint either, he had grown up at the orphanage with Elincia, but he hadn’t visited ever since he left.

“Ginz, I presume?” I asked before the man could utter a word.

“Yes?” Ginz replied, raising his head. His brown, fearful eyes were hidden behind a thick pair of spectacles.

“Robert Clarke, Scholar from the City of Light. I have an idea I want to commission and I was told you are a capable Craftsman.” I introduced myself.

“I’m sorry… err… sir. Our order backlog is full for the time being.” Ginz stammered as his eyes glided through the workshop, always avoiding mine.

“What a shame. Our mutual friend spoke marvelously about your work, and she is quite particular in her tastes.” I nonchalantly drummed with my fingers on the counter. I felt like a con artist leading my prey to a trap.

“She?” Ginz’s inquisitive eyes finally stopped on mine.

“Elincia Rosebud. I understand you two grew up together in the same orphanage.” I smiled mischievously.

Ginz flinched as if someone had slapped him on the face.

“O-our order b-backlog is full. I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Ginz stood from his workplace and circled the counter towards me. I realized he was a lot shorter and thinner than me. I was tempted to Identify him to see if he had some traces of Gnome ancestry.

I didn’t move to the exit. Instead I examined him.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Nice shirt. Good boots. Is that a bronze bracelet?” I asked while grinning.

“Sir, you have to go now or I will call the guards.” Ginz managed to put some confidence in his words. As a response I let out a sudden flash of blue flames that sent him scurrying backwards on the ground.

“What you are going to do is to come back to your workbench and listen to my commision. Are we clear?” I replied with my best cold voice.

Ginz nodded and crawled like a vermin back to the workshop.

“The kids of the orphanage you grew up in are cold and starving while you are here well dressed and well fed, Ginz. I want to make it clear that I know you abandoned Miss Rosebud when she needed you the most.” I jumped over the counter and sat in front of the craftsman.

That day I didn’t choose violence. Violence had chosen me.

“But the Marquis…” Ginz mumbled.

“Ginz, Ginz, Ginz. You are not a man by virtue of the thing that hangs between your legs. You are a man because of how you act in the face of evil.” I interrupted him, citing my old man’s words. “But I’m not here to remind you of your shortcomings as a person. I’m here to give you an opportunity to redeem yourself.”

Despite my grandiose speech, I understood Ginz’s actions.

“I-I don’t have a lot of money. Materials are not cheap and the rent for the workshop is ludicrous.” Ginz stuttered.

[Awareness]: He is lying.

“Good. It will only take you an hour and the peace of mind you will get in return will offset the cost of the materials.” I grinned maliciously. “I need four leather cups. They are not going to contain liquid so they don’t have to be perfect, just sturdy. On the bottom you will burn a nice monogram with the letters ‘I’ and ‘K’.”

“That’s it?” Ginz asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s it. I already acquired the dice.”

Ginz sat on his workbench and started to measure the pieces of leather, his brow frowned in concentration. His movements were slow and deliberate, measuring twice and cutting once. Suddenly, a soothing tune made of the knife’s cut, the raspy sound of the punching tool, and the scratch of the thread against the leather took over the workshop.

I didn’t know to what extent Ginz’s class helped him to work faster but after an hour he had the set of cups ready. For the final touch, Ginz took a set of slim branding irons and marked the bottom of the cups with a simple monogram. Then he put them into a small box and slid them across the table towards me.

“You are saving the orphanage, Ginz.” I grabbed the box and, without wasting a second, walked towards the entrance. “I swear I’ll repay you as soon as I have the money.”

Ginz raised his hand, stopping me.

“I knew I screwed over Elincia when I left the orphanage but… would you put in a good word about me with her?” Ginz hopefully said as I crossed the doorway.

“Maybe.” I replied. “If you show up at the orphanage with a bag of fruit for the kids, she might have tea with you. I don’t think she is against reconnecting with old acquaintances.”

*****

I left Ginz’s workshop late in the afternoon with a wooden box under my arm. The sky was covered by deep gray clouds and a warm breeze ruffled the pennants and rocked the shops hanging signs. The streets had emptied while I was absorbed by Ginz’s handwork and even the bravest merchants had closed their stalls.

There was a certain beauty to the darkness, a certain charm to the wild wind and the promise of a storm. Instead of heading to the Great Hall, I decided to go back and share the somber majesty of the day with Elincia and the kids.

I tucked the box under my jacket and rushed towards the orphanage.

Shu was sitting on the entrance staircase. As I came closer to the manor, her face lit up and, when I moved the iron fence to enter, she was already halfway through the front yard.

“Ash said you were gone forever but I knew he was wrong so I was waiting here.” Shu proudly announced.

Her know-it-all tone made me giggle.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Miss Elincia hired me until the summer at least, so I can’t just leave.” I laughed as I lifted the girl and walked towards the manor.

“Is that for me?” Shu pointed at the box under my other arm.

“Not quite. This is going to help us to keep the guardsmen away from the orphanage.” I replied. Shu seemed to be happy with my answer because she didn’t inquire further. Maybe she wasn’t particularly curious or maybe she just trusted me that much.

We entered the reception room just to find Firana sitting on the couch. She had washed her face and wore an oversized white shirt that clearly didn’t belong to her. One with both sleeves intact. By the way she looked at me, I knew she wanted to talk to me.

“Go play with the rest of the kids for a moment, Shu.” I put the harpy girl on the floor.

She hugged my leg in a rush and stumbled her way out of the room. Then I sat on the other side of the couch and waited for Firana to say the first word.

“Mister Clarke?” Firana said with an uncharacteristic ashamed voice.

“Yes?”

“I am sorry. I am very sorry, Mister Clarke. The guardsmen came to the orphanage because of me. They followed me and I put everyone in danger because I ran away, even Miss Elincia and you.” Firana bitterly said. “I was disrespectful challenging you to a duel, I just felt…”

“Betrayed?” I helped her as she had trouble finding the right word.

Even bad teachers like Holst had a soft spot for talented students. If Firana's talent helped Holst to farm his class advancements faster than the other orphans, then Holst might have treated her better and encouraged her to improve.

I had to remind myself that public education wasn’t a thing here, and Holst might have just wanted the best pupils to tutor.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I will understand if it's decided I should leave the orphanage.” Firana said. Her eyes were fixed on her shoes and her head sunken between her shoulders.

For me, Firana was just a kid but for this world she was almost an adult.

“Firana. It’s not your fault the guardsmen came to the orphanage. If anything, we are happy you managed to escape. Miss Elincia and I already suspected the guardsmen were going to come for you before your birthday. We now know the Marquis, the guardsmen, and Holst colluded to conscript you and the others before they were allowed to.” I put my hand on her shoulder and gently spun her so she could be face to face with me. She had a shocked expression on her face. “We don’t want you to go anywhere. We are happy you came back.”

“But I insulted you. How could you forgive me after what I have done?” Firana refused to believe me. Holst’s phantom still haunted her judgment.

“I forgive you, Firana, as long as you learn from all this. And I meant it. I’d love you to become a student of mine.” I smiled reassuringly.

“You won’t regret it later?” Firana asked.

“Of course not. The orphanage… this is your family and Miss Elincia and the kids will always have your back just like you were defending the reception room when the guardsmen came.”

Firana blushed.

“You saw that?” She muttered.

“Saw what?” I replied.

We walked to the kitchen where Elincia was entertaining the younger orphans. No one seemed to remember the scene with the guardsmen, on the contrary, spirits were high. The sweet smell of baked apples hit me as soon as I crossed the doorway.

“Ha! I told you he came back.” Shu stood on her seat pointing a mocking finger at Ash.

“Whatever. It must have been Miss Elincia who drove away the bandits.” Ash replied from the nearest seat to the door. As soon as he finished the sentence, Firana gave him a quick slap on the back of the head.

“Firana, please refrain from hitting your companions.” I said with a tired voice.

My comment didn't seem to go down well with Ash.

“You don’t have to defend me, that didn’t even hurt.” The boy said with a haughty voice, however, he instinctively covered his head as Firana raised her hand again.

I sighed and glanced at Elincia, asking for help. However, she just smiled back and continued kneading the dough on the kitchen counter. Despite everything that had happened during the day, I felt everything was good with the world.

“Need help, Miss Rosebud?” I asked with an impish voice as I crossed the orphan-laden kitchen to her side. The orphans covered their mouths and giggled at hearing Elincia’s surname.

“Punish him, Miss Elincia, he said the word!” Ash yelled from across the room. His suggestion was received with cheers and complaints alike. The orphan’s attention was fully focused on us.

“Mister Clarke can call me whatever he wants.” Elincia said, putting a hand over my shoulder. The giggling increased even if some of the orphans were disappointed they were not going to see a public punishment.

“What about me?” Shu asked, still standing on her seat.

“You still have to call me Miss Elincia until you are an adult like Mister Clarke. Same for everyone else!” Elincia shut her down before other orphans jumped into the ‘Miss Rosebud’ wagon.

The attention of the group jumped from us to Firana. It seemed the girl was somewhat revered by the younger kids despite Ilya being the official kid-in-charge.

“So, Miss Rosebud.” I quietly spoke so Elincia was the only one listening. “Are you sure you don’t need help? It must be a lot of work to bake apple dumplings for an army of hungry orphans.”

“Don’t abuse your privileges, Robert Clarke.” Elincia grinned at me. “And no, I can manage with this much. But you can go watch over the older ones who are training in the backyard.”

I stuck my body out of the window just to find the older kids in full training attire doing longsword drills. They were not just playing around or swinging aimlessly but doing actual exercises I had taught them during the last couple days.

“They weren’t like that with Holst. That motivated.” Elincia said.

“Don’t blame me. If they grew up to be so mature it’s because you raised them well.” I replied. Everything the kids were showing was something they had before.

“You give me too much credit. Things have changed since your arrival.” Elincia smiled at me with an expression I had never seen on her face.

“What are you two talking about? Secrets are not allowed in the kitchen!” Shu yelled.

“Mister Clarke was telling me he is going to watch over Zaon, Ilya, and Wolf while we continue baking.” Elincia said with her best governess voice and pushed me forward. I took it as my cue to go.

As I crossed the doorway, I made a gesture for Firana to follow me.

The clouds had darkened even more. There was still an hour of sunlight but the world was shrouded in a premature twilight. The trees swayed and groaned, and their branches creaked in protest against the occasional strong gust of wind.

“Class!” I called them with a devilish smile. “I want to introduce you to the new student. Starting from today she will be training with us. Please greet Firana.”

My silly joke had the expected effect on the group. Ilya covered her face with both hands, Wolf kept his stern look but looked away, and Firana gave a long sigh. Zaon, however, considerate as always, chuckled briefly.

“Go and gear up, Firana. We will be waiting right here.” I say, hoping Firana soon would forget about Holst.