The forge was what one would call quiet, at least by the standard of its occupants. Not a word was spoken, only the occasional grunt or whistle. A silence of voice was this condition, the forge alive in each of its other natural instruments in the art of mineral working. The fizzle of oil tempering metal. The slam of a hammer beating down the form of red hot steel. The rhythmic grinding of a file against silver. And the soft, gentle whisper of belts rubbing against stone. All this melded together to form a chorus of work of two craftsmen. Callum, vanguard of the Revenants, and Findlay, silversmith. It had been several days since Kiyomi and company departed, leaving the pair with roughly a month to show the fruits of their collaborative efforts. Callum, though, seemed to find himself either more on his mind and heart than the task at hand. His work had slowed, amidst his working of brass, he found himself daydreaming.
“What's he so damn lost in thought about.”
Findlay looked up from his work, the silver inlay of the green quartz nearly complete after taking him a majority of the seven days.
I can stand to take a break. He could, too. We may as well get a meal in our bellies.
Findlay leaned back in his chair, stretching each of his fingers before wiping them against his apron. Standing, he walked over and tapped the younger of the two with his knuckle.
“Jewel to iron. You seem to be caught up in something. Let's eat over it.”
Callum looked down, raising a brow before quenching the steel he'd been working. It clattered as he dropped it to the surface of an anvil.
“Aye, I could use a meal.”
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The two found themselves at an inn not far along the road, a small, quaint place that a gentleman and his wife boarded out. The lower floor was renovated into a kitchen and bar, providing a place out of the heat, cold, or rain for its patrons, The Wisp’s Candlelight. Callum and Findlay found themselves attempting to converse over shepherd's pie. They sat silently, Callum forking at a portion of crust until it was coated in potatoes, before scooping it with some beef and taking a bite. The clatter of wooden utensils was all that passed between them until Callum placed the fork of food back down.
“Kiyomi and I had a talk, nearly two weeks ago.”
Findlay raised his brow, still chewing. Callum continued regardless, choosing to let no fact go unspoken before allowing the dwarf to answer.
“We talked about her mother, about the marriage.”
Callum looked up to Findlay, then back to his bowl.
“About my little girl.”
Callum sighed, rubbing a knuckle against his brow. He seemed awkward, more so than usual, given he and the dwarf disliked each other. Findlay listened, now looking up to Callum between each bite.
“The conversation had me thinking. About her, about Hatsumi, the fact that she doesn't have a father. About how she's stayed on her lonesome for so long.”
Findlay stopped his chewing, waiting for Callum to continue. Callum looked up to match the dwarf’s gaze and was met with the wave of his fork. A piece of crust flew from his mouth as he attempted to do so, forcing the dwarf to lay down his fork with a slam onto the table. He placed his fist in front of his mouth, forcing the bite down in a single gulp before drinking from his cup. Findlay spoke with the lowering of his cup.
“You intend to keep me in suspense? Or to ask the damn question, you absolute jack arse?”
Findlay raised his brow as he questioned. Callum, however, remained silent for a moment, pushing his bowl away.
“I think I should try again—with my wife—to see if she would have me again.”
Findlay crossed his arms.
“So that's what you were getting at.”
“Aye.”
“Then try for Myr's sake. The damned woman has stayed open for this long. You only just thought to reason why?”
Findlay poked a sausage-like finger towards Callum.
“So what's the plan? You gonna keep that to yourself? I'm already on your other little girl's dime–”
Findlay spoke, implying Kiyomi was Callum’s daughter just the same.
“Or do you intend to waste the time of a silversmith?”
Callum remained silent, dumbfounded, as his jaw hung.
“I– I didn't think you'd take to it. The idea of helping me that is.”
Findlay rolled his eyes.
“Callum, you can't tell me you're oblivious to the fact that I'd willingly sat down to supp with you and listen expressly for that reason.”
Findlay grumbled, leaning forward against the table.
“What's the plan? A gift? A solemn admission? Do you expect her to easily flock back to you? Or do you intend to properly guide things back to the way they once were?”
The two sat silently once more, staring into each other's eyes before Callum stood. The cogs were turning now, Findlay could see as much through the man's eyes.
“A gift, I want to open with a gift.”
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Another day passes, one of planning and
“Are you sure of this?”
Findlay asked, his legs shaking nervously. They were situated outside of the adventurers guild, occasional outsiders stopping to look up at the oddity of two grown men, standing on the roof beside one of the residential balconies.
“Sure as a dragon guarding its horde, the minute she sees the note with it, she’ll make for the tavern. She won't be able to resist– shit, she’s coming!”
Callum nudged Findlay to crouch slightly, the older, less acrobatic of the two wobbling with wide eyes. They both pressed their faces to the boards of Hatsumi's bedroom balcony. It was early evening, the time of her return from her daily routine. Callum was shaking as well, his anticipation eating away at his ability to think properly. He waited for her reaction, hopeful that the worst fear would not come to pass.
“Gods, I feel seventeen all over again.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
He shuddered.
“Doing stupid shite for love? Here I'd thought you'd get yourself killed over a drink, or ‘haps even another man’s wife...”
Callum looked back to Findlay.
“I was seventeen when I confessed to her, asked her to marry me on the spot in the middle of the woods. Thought I'd die if she said no, but I couldn't keep myself from that one benefit of acting.”
Callum looked back through the crack.
“And what was that?”
Findlay whispered.
“Finality.”
Callum responded, his speech cutting short with the click of a door handle.
“It's her.”
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“Another day under the Baron’s heel.”
Hatsumi opened the door to her room, an empty place devoid of life. She came home not to her team; as per usual, everyone was focused on preparations, keeping them away as of late. She came home not to a daughter she loved dearly, the girl growing and making her own path, now weeks away as she traveled to Krakow. Her life, once constantly moving and fluid, was now becoming set in place. Make breakfast, go to the keep, advise the Baron alongside two dozen military advisors, politicians, nobles, and adventurers; Discuss resource allocation, rations, and money for the guild, allocation of land to farmers, expansion into the surrounding forests, and building the second set of city walls. As of late, Hatsumi’s own mind was clouded with thoughts that the barony spawned from a misplaced sense of humanity.
“The tradition rears its head in the ugliest way possible now?!”
The beast woman slumped her shoulder, tossing her satchel into the chair at her door before dropping back onto her bed. Its plush, quilted surface was comforting for the time being. It would have to do until Kiyomi returned.
What possessed them to think this plan would work so flawlessly? What's to say people won't turn back? What if they find out?
Hatsumi stared at the roof, her tail brushing against the floorboards underneath her still-overhung feet.
A caravan of gold, resources, and gifts? Aye, that would be something. But to amass hundreds of wagons, whisking an entire city away with little rumor. A simple order would not keep them away. Under what pretext? Death? Imprisonment? We can't afford the rumors of those loose-lipped enough to discuss it openly.
Hatsumi’s brows furrowed, and she grimaced with each following thought.
I told myself that I would do what was necessary. It's only been four years since we started really worrying about this. Six if we count the initial warning signs of Kiyomi’s arrival…
Nine for the massacres…
Hatsumi sat up, planting her elbows on her knees.
I’m thirty-one now. Time flies.
Hatsumi wiped her palms against her face, trying to brush away her worry as if it were simple exhaustion.
No, don’t look at it like that. You still have a purpose. Your girl is still growing, and you need to make sure she stays growing. The war has to be routed, and I have to ensure she’s as far away from it as possible.
She stood, forcing herself to think as optimistically as she could. They had plenty of warning, years of preparation under their belts, and maybe years to come still. She could only put faith in those around her to do their best for the same end result that she sought.
I have to make dinner anyway. Callum seems to be the one actually returning home at this rate; with his work at the forge, he’s been more ragged than usual.
Her head shook as she forced a weak laugh.
“Here I am, still wanting to be that person too. He’d moved on long enough ago.”
She opened her wardrobe, taking off her top layer of robes so she’d be free from staining it. Removing the layer of clothing allowed her to breathe more openly, feeling like she’d shed the worries from outside their home with its hanging. Closing the wardrobe, another curiosity took place in the stead of the world outside. Hatsumi turned to her nightstand to see a small, ornate piece of brass and silver.
“Hmm?”
Hatsumi squinted, moving to inspect the object. It was a flower composed of numerous sheets of thin, polished metal. Silver and brass were beaten and bent in such a way that they looked like flower petals, pressed inward to simulate a flower just on the cusp of opening itself to the world. It was light, the weight of something inside shifting as she picked it up.
Kiyomi has been gone for a week, so she couldn't have. Maria? No, but where would she even get something like this?
Hatsumi thought of the culprit of who would plant such a thing, eliminating the options as she shifted the flower in her hands. She pondered until she noticed two tiny slivers of brass rolled in such a way that they would mimic a small lever.
“Searching further may tell me of the culprit.”
She mused, a smirk drawing itself across her face.
“Will you reveal yourself, oh hidden benefactor?”
Hatsumi chuckled once more, thinking nothing should come of the flower. She pried open the petals, revealing their contents.
“Or are you– just– frivolous?”
Hatsumi stood there in shock; the hairs on her scalp, ears, and tail all prickled at once as she saw the contents. A flower, within the flower, an azure-lace. It was small, budding in and out of itself, yet still very distinct in color and meaning. Two white stamens poked out the top of the flower, pulled free as a means of decoration, and alongside them stood a tightly rolled note. She was nervous to pull the note free, knowing what the flower itself meant. It held no less than the same connotation of an imperial rose.
“I pull this note, and I-”
Hatsumi hesitated, backing her index and thumb away.
“But if I don’t, a different regret will set, won’t it?”
The slow realization set in, the idea of the only person who could have so readily left such a thing to her. She pressed onward, grabbing the azure lace and paper in its clutches. She placed the flower of precious metal on the nightstand where she discovered it. Plucking the note free, she unrolled it slowly and methodically. Its words were revealed to her eyes, bearing their message with no intent of misinterpretation. They were clear and ripe with hope, waiting for their response long before she’d opened their container.
Hatsumi, a flower alone, could never hope to portray the vibrancy with which you fill my life. The azure-lace enclosed is an offer and a request in unison, awaiting your answer at The Wisp’s Candlelight. If you intend to let this flower blossom, to let this azure-lace grow as its metal exterior did before, then it begs you to take it with you. To show its light to The Wisp’s Candlelight.
Hatsumi reread the note at least a dozen times, assuring herself that she wasn't mistaken. Then, without warning and little second thought, she barged out of her room. Those who attempted to stop her with questions noticed something she’d placed in her hair alongside one of her ears. The blue bud of an azure lace, its petals opened as mana forced the flower to grow.
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Only nine minutes or so had passed since Callum and Findlay sat in wait, being sprung into action by Hatsumi’s very fast grab at the offer that Callum laid out.
“Hah- tha– thanks!”
Callum gasped, sweating from his nerves and the fact that he’d run nearly a mile while carrying a dwarf.
“Not a problem, hun, though. You sure she’ll show?”
The inn owner's wife winced at her own words, seemingly not wanting her own words to come to fruition. She took her words back the second after, sitting a glass of water on the table. Callum grabbed the glass, drinking deeply as he attempted to wet his throat. The run had left him ragged, gasping as he entered. Findlay had chosen to part ways at the entrance, choosing to observe from the confines of a shop across the road.
“She’ll— ha— she’ll be here. Not long, actually.”
Callum held up a finger, asking her to wait a moment before he coughed into his hand and continued.
“She’ll be here 'cause the damned minx was hot on my heels, if she didn’t intend to talk with me, she would’ve stayed at home, and made dinner there..”
Callum hung his head, the cadence of his heart and lungs finally matching to give him a modicum of relief.
“Are the meals ready?”
He asked, raising a brow.
“Steamin’ hot! Wouldn’t give you no less, considering you bought out the place.”
“Hey!”
A man’s voice spoke from the kitchen.
“Will they want wine? Are the rooms cleared? Last thing we need is a complaint for the noise.”
It was the innkeeper, smoking meat and aiding his wife in preparation for a day's worth of reserved meals. They were all for Callum and Hatsumi, a veritable feast for two. Especially considering their conversation could take quite a while. Callum shifted awkwardly in his chair.
By the gods we’re both in our thirties now, but talking to her under this pretext?
He shook his head.
It has me shaking like a boy again.
“Best straighten yourself, she could be here any minute. From the way people talk about her she’s none the slower than you, Master Callum.”
Callum nodded with a chuckle.
“That’s an A-ranker for you, mage or not, we all need to be able to run.”
The lady squinted, moving closer to the window.
“Ah, shite, the shows on! She’s jogging up right now—“
The inn lady lifted her skirt, freeing up the ability to run to her bar and grab the two meals that sat ready for presentation. She barely made it halfway back across the floor before the door was slammed open, nearly bouncing back into the assailant as she barged in.
“Ah- shit, sorry, sorry.”
Hatsumi, hair disheveled, tail fluffed up in anxiety, and eyes zeroed in like a cat staring down a mouse it deemed to belong to it.
“Hatsumi, I—“
Callum attempted to speak, the beast-woman striding across the floor to him. Her expression was straight-laced, as if she was determined on her response.
Ah— so it’s like that. I guess it was naive—
A tinge of doubt crossed his mind, not expecting her to cross the floor in such a show of single-mindedness.
“Listen, I’m-“
Hatsumi grabbed his collar, pulling him close, nearly from his chair even as the wooden legs scratched against the floor. They were mere inches from each other's faces now, even the smell of wine on both of their breaths was not mistaken.
“No, you listen! I’ve no mind for tossing words, Cal! Not anymore! No more of the stolen glances or the dancing over our memories! You want an answer? Here—“
Hatsumi pulled Callum in closer, the dumbfounded man not being able to process the events unfolding between them. There was the feeling of a tongue brushing against his teeth, of his own involuntary follow-through as he invited it further. The sound of the two kissing, interspersed with ragged gasps of them attempting to catch their breath, isolated the two from the outside world. Their surroundings were damned to the pair, even as the lady and innkeep cleared their throats awkwardly, withdrawing the plates back to the kitchen. They did this for minutes, Callum slowly standing to match Hatsumi in height as he pushed the chair backward, eventually tipping it over with a solitary impact of its back against the floor. They split apart, looking into one another’s eyes, not a word spoken as they breathed.
“To a bedroom?”
Callum asked, gasping as he took in each of his woman’s features, her ears flicking and drawing attention to a single blue flower bud.
“Yes.”
Hatsumi responded, her chest rising and falling with her breath. Callum looked back to the innkeeper and his wife who looked on dumbfounded.
“Are we free to? I know the day is early, however—“
The innkeeper waved to the pair, his face shifting into one of aggravation.
“You’re a grown arse man, what do you think?! You paid the damn it all fee. Go lay with your woman!”
The mixed words of anger and encouragement pushed all reason Callum had out of mind, the thoughts of ‘a slow, methodical, and heartfelt conversation’ would have to wait. His wife was waiting, and he couldn’t bear to do so any longer than the years they had both endured.