It wasn’t until the day before I was supposed to meet with Monroe for the second training session, that I felt recovered enough to work away at the cliff wall again. This time, I brought my money, which after the devastating expense of my staff, had recovered up to 7 silver and 15 copper from the various delivery fees I had accumulated from the past few days. I fully believe that it was Victoria’s planned intent to give me more wealthy and generous clientèle to deliver her orders to in order to recover physically and rebuild my depleted funds.
Wanting to save some money, I made the 30-minute walk to the falls. However, this time, I brought with me a carriage summoning token. It was an interesting piece of charmed wood that I hadn’t seen or known of before today until Victoria mentioned it in passing. It was sort of like hailing a taxi, where you could break the token in half when you were ready to be picked up. The nearest carriage which was signed on to accept token users would report their intent to arrive for pick-up. Depending on how far the nearest free available ride was, I was expected to wait anywhere from 1 – 25 minutes based on the distance to be traveled. It was a neat little token that I kept far from my person as I chipped away at the surrounding rock wall. I didn’t want to accidentally break it ahead of time and mess up my ride.
Feeling much stronger and with only a minor soreness to my arms, I focused more intently on my work as I struck with the dark black pickax, creating minor explosions of stone shards with each measured strike. This time, I took a more careful approach, as I took far more breaks and gave my hands time to adequately cool down between sessions.
During my breaks, I would often stare off into the crashing falls a short distance away. Images of anime characters training under the pressure of the waterfalls to become stronger came to mind. “Haha!” I laughed to myself at the absurdity of doing such under Niagara Falls. It would take a far stronger individual than me to bear the weight of those crushing torrents of water
On one break, I had tried practicing some of the movements which Monroe had gone over with me in our first training session. Unfortunately, I quickly began feeling the recently cooled spots on my hands heating up again as if to threaten me with new blisters. Having to be more wary of such considering my expected meet-up with Monroe tomorrow, I took a more sedentary approach to my breaks.
After passively observing the falls multiple times up close, I had grown somewhat less enamored with my current vantage point. Instead, I had taken to observing the shattered remains of my endeavors in more detail. Shards ranging in size from a grain of sand to chunks as large as my hand lay strewn about. It was very satisfying to see when those larger pieces fell to my targeted strikes.
Admittedly I would glower at the wall any time that noticeable chunks grew outside of the targeted area. However, as the work progressed and the depression continued to grow beyond my forearm in depth, I was feeling less concerned regarding such irrelevant discrepancies.
As my eyes roamed over the pile of shattered stone, I felt something tug at my senses which stimulated a light stirring of energy within me. Curiosity rose within me as following that feeling to where it appeared to lead, I began sifting through the pile of stone shards. Similar to when I felt that calling and urging of the opal and pearl like black stone in the cave with the shadow creatures, I was now feeling something with a different flavor. It was difficult to describe even to myself. It was almost like the bitter earthy tone you might experience with placing a small rock in your mouth and tasting the powdering of stone dust across its surface.
My hand came to grasp what I felt was causing that taste and with it came something new. A faint sensation of earthy stability and steadfastness flowed into my hand. Gripping tighter to the rough and crystalline shaped stone, a kind of longing to hold fast to its reliability and presence brushed gently over me.
Maybe I was letting my mind run away with incorrectly perceived sensations. However, this felt too strongly like a new flavor of the same unique feeling which I had known and been familiar with for as long as I could remember. I felt a thrill at this possible new development.
Others may disdain this feeling and gift which I placed so much hope and reliance on. But they were them, and I was me. If you couldn’t trust that which had never let you down before, why seek out or fear the thoughts and opinions of those more fickle than the wind?
I took more time than I had originally planned for a break, examining the earthy colored stone just about a centimeter in size and in the shape of a quartz crystal, before reluctantly slipping it into my pocket and resuming my excavation.
Stolen story; please report.
Time went by and as I continued to chip away at the rock wall, I kept a careful eye out for any additional earthen crystals. Unfortunately, my luck was not good enough for another such find, and with the sun nearing the horizon I ended my work for the day. In addition to night being near, I felt like it was time to return as any further work threatened to form blisters, which I was striving to avoid. I wanted to be in peak condition to study and learn from Monroe tomorrow. I didn’t care what injuries I got in the process of learning to defend myself, but I didn’t plan to hobble myself before I even began.
Returning to the observation platform for the falls, I snapped the carriage token to await my ride. It took less than 10 minutes before I was able to catch a ride with another passenger. Making our way in companionable silence to our separate destinations, I fiddled with the stone in my pocket to pass the time.
Soon enough I had returned to the apothecary shop just as Victoria was closing things down. Upon entry to her store, I was met with a very excited and exuberant teacher. I had been about to ask about the stone I found, but she had barely allowed me to say hi, before informing me that dinner was sitting out for me on the table and that she was leaving to go help Monroe with his garden.
Apparently, Monroe had invited her over to work together, and all she had been waiting on was for me to return. “Lock the door behind me!” That was the last thing Victoria called out to me before dashing to a waiting carriage.
I did as she bid me and then for the first time in a while here ate dinner alone. It was both somewhat peaceful yet lonely. My mind ran through several possibilities of what this meeting between my two teachers might entail. My hope was that Victoria would be able to made good headway on capturing Monroe, but I would have to wait to find out. Putting away the leftover food as best as I could in her enchanted cold box and washing the remaining dishes, I made positive use of the remaining time before bed.
Despite Victoria not being here, I completed my dedicated three-hour study of the apothecary book, needing to use the light of the mage stones to see by. Night had long since fallen by the time I was done, and still Victoria had not returned. I hoped that was a good sign. Soon enough, I was prepped and ready for bed passing out under the covers, dreaming of earthen lands and towering stone pillars.
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The very next morning, I woke up to louder than normal sounds echoing up from the kitchen and penetrating my bedroom door. I suspected that my master might be repressing her joy or struggling with something and was taking it out on the hapless cooking utensils. Her pronounced actions in the kitchen were additionally punctuated with odd moments of silence, which then would resume to over-enthusiastic preparations.
Making my way down the stairs, in concern I spoke up after reaching the landing. “Master, what is on your mind? And is there anything I can do to be of help?”
Pausing in the midst of her current display of culinary frustration, her eyes fixated upon me with a measuring and judging gaze. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times as if unsure if or how she would speak on what was troubling her. The spatula in her hand trembled a bit as if an internal struggle was being waged inside its handler.
.
.
.
A long moment of silence passed before she finally lay the poor abused utensil down on the counter with a sigh. “Andrew . . . do you? . . *sigh* . . . in your world? . . .” She spoke up haltingly at first and then with mounting frustration she continued. “Is it just Monroe, or am I that hard to take advantage of?”
My eyes widened and my eyebrows shot up in surprise at this convoluted question. Knowing her in the way I did, I’m not sure she meant it to come out that way, but I believe I understood where she was coming from or what she meant to say.
Wetting my lips as I dared to tread danger ground, I finally replied. “Master, . . .” My voice was tinged mostly with concern and a little exasperation. “You don’t exactly set yourself up to be approachable by the average man.” Casting a quick once over look at her current choice of clothing, which as usual gave off a sense of tantalizing yet forbidden beauty, I considered my words carefully before voicing them. “While you certainly dress to be very attractive,” My mind recalled the fiasco of the tom cat and other less violent interactions between interested customers. “Your reception of certain advances by interested men, leaves you to be . . . quite the thorny rose.”
Victoria’s bunched up shoulders slumped with a frustrated sigh at hearing my words, her long woodsy brown hair shimmering in the diffuse light of the morning.
“I thought I had been making my interest in Monroe very clear with the way I spoke to him. I certainly don’t intentionally flirt with others. Doesn’t he know that I treat him differently and that he is the only one I’m interested in.” Her voice held a kind of weary complaint.
I shook my head bemusedly. It appears that just because you are in a different world and older than the average senior citizen in mine, doesn’t mean that the communication barrier between men and women becomes any easier. I had read a few books who’s names I don’t really recall in my personal attempt to understand the opposite sex. For me, it had vaguely come down to a couple things. One, a woman’s mind could sometimes be compared to a maze, that not even she always knew the way through. And two, men could be quite dense and ignorant of a plethora of small and large hints that a woman gives to show her interest in or request something of them.
Obviously, there was far more than that to understanding individuals and couples. However, such was far beyond my current scope of learning. I was certainly no psychologist or relationship counselor.
I felt that I needed more information regarding what happened last night before I could offer any kind of advice, and so I asked her. “What happened last night that made things turn out like this?”
Victoria’s face turned a little pink as if in recollection of what happened during her time with Monroe. After gathering her thoughts, she then responded. “Everything started off as I might expect from someone truly seeking my aid in their garden, with no ulterior motives.” Glancing away and turning redder before continuing to speak. “I helped him out with advice and went over some of the samples of moss and other winter resistant ground cover which I had brought with me.”