I stood in front of the door, rehearsing what I was going to say. The large box in my hands grew heavier the more I debated on just heading back to my room and skipping this. I didn’t know them that well, and they weren’t expecting me. I took one last deep breath before knocking loudly, I hated pleasantries, but was well accustomed to them.
In the Lodestone Republic the safest places were in the cities, preferably inside the inner walls. Anyone on the exterior of the outer walls or in the Hamlets were far less secure. Monster attacks, bandits, and war were the external threats, but those from within were just as menacing. Coalitions, debts, and feuds were always shifting, requiring a careful eye. While there were laws that limited the damage from blood feuds, there was always a way around that if the offended party had the coin.
Far more dangerous were the everchanging alliances, allegiances, and followers. Although it was rare that a neighbor would outright attack you, there were numerous ways they could harm you or your interests. Your next-door neighbor who was buying only from you, one day tells you he’s found another buyer, leaving you with 20 barrels of Opal wine during a lull in demand. Perhaps when the defense is called, your section of the wall is emptier than before, or your fellows a little slow to aid you when a monster makes it onto the ramparts. There were a myriad of ways your neighbors and friends could subtly hasten your demise.
Ironically, the unreliability of every neighbor resulted in a very tightknit community within most hamlets, Indigo included. Families made sure to keep up with their neighbors, at least once a day if not more. Of course, when you’ve a farm, house, or business to manage, this required more time than most possessed. The solution was simple, unpaid help, i.e. children.
Excepting certain dispensations, all families were required to have at minimum four children (though everyone had more, as the children had to survive to age 14 to be counted). One of which had to join the army or Spire (rarely an option) lest a fine be levied. This system resulted in excess eyes and ears that were utilized to check in with neighbors and most everyone else of importance/use. Little Theo made sure to instruct me and my siblings what phrases to use, how to act cute (at least when we were younger), and what to pay special attention to when we visited.
Who were our connections eating with? Were there any extra provisions in their houses that we ourselves hadn’t sold them? What was their attitude, and what effect did particular prods have on that mood? Were they welcoming, and even if they were, how generous or stingy were they? You would always give company a drink, but was it at least medium quality, or just their cheapest posca? Were they lacking anything, or was an important event such as an anniversary near? Gifts, kind words, and support had to be provided as soon as needed, and anticipated when possible.
I was shy, and detested such interactions. It required more than a dozen or so boxes to my ears from both my father and Little Theo before I began taking my responsibilities in earnest. Like most things in life, being sociable took effort and time, and the proper motivation. While I eventually became skilled in such affairs, I still loathed them. I didn’t give a damn what our neighbors were up to, if they said they’d have our back then they should honor their word. But of course, that’s not how things work in the real world. Deeds and actions, not words nor promises, were the prevailing currency.
I looked down at the wooden box in my hands, the varnish haphazardly applied. Ah, the quality at the Spire was something that truly inspired the soul…To seek employment elsewhere. Even the pitiful knockoff boxes my brother sold to the surrounding towns were better looking. Perhaps a bit less durable, but only slightly.
After a minute, the door finally creaked open, accompanied by a, “Who is it?”
Unkempt black hair and a tired face greeted me.
“Melissa! Good to see you!” I put on my best smile; greetings were critical to social calls.
“T-Tome!” She nearly shouted, opening the door wide.
The room was good sized, two unmade beds, clothes laid haphazardly on the floor, two dressers and chests, some half-eaten pomegranates, hmm, and other miscellaneous items scattered throughout. The bedsheets and curtains were white, the color pink mercifully absent.
Melissa rushed out and put her hands over mine. Quite a few people detest physical interactions, but they were a part of being social. A friendly pat on the back, a firm grasp of the arm, holding hands… Physicality imparted so much more emotion, real or not, than mere conversation. Not that I feigned sentiments, at least not always, but being aware of such things made one so much more effective.
“It’s so good to see you! They told us you were okay, but they wouldn’t let us see you! What happened?”
“Uh…” weren’t they interrogated as well?
I sighed and had Melissa escort me into her room where I told her what transpired. The version where Tess made a brave sacrifice for her students. Melissa stayed quite the whole time, her eyes widening during every high point of the tale.
When her turn came, Melissa’s account was basically what I expected. She and Courtney had run desperately for the door, hearing Tess’s nightmarish screams before they were even a third of the way to the exit. The sickening thump and crunches as the mimic collided with shiel…Ah hem! Brave Tess. The two never looked back, the terrible wails of the mimic ensuring they didn’t experience a resurgence of courage, or stupidity.
They ran to the tearoom, not encountering anyone until they were well into the corridors. Their later questioning entailed them recounting their story, then being told to return to their rooms to recoup. Good to know that my intense questioning was due to my natural affability with people and plants, Godsdamn them all.
I purposely stared at the additional bed until Melissa told me that she and Courtney shared this room, my source had given me less than accurate information. The two of them had had a difficult night like myself. Courtney had eventually sought refuge with her boyfriend while Melissa tossed and turned. I couldn’t fault them, the first time you experienced a massacre was not pleasant.
Throughout her tale, Melissa’s body language impressed me. She held herself together, her eyes misty, but never once sobbing. She had nerve, that would get her far. Still, even if her constitution was rock hard, it was best to steer her towards more positive affairs. I pushed my gift forward and took off the lid.
“While nothing like what you could get in your world, hopefully it can be a poor substitute.”
She strained her neck to peer into the box before gasping.
“A cake! Holy shit, there’s even icing, oh God, you gotta be kidding me!”
I smiled, candies and pastries could be found in every city and even in most hamlets, genuine cake, not so much. Not that we didn’t have cakes, but they tended to be more of the fruit variety, topped with honey or molasses. More often than not the bread was only lightly sweetened with a spoonful of molasses. This was a genuine, sweet cake, sugar throughout the bread and topped with white saccharine icing.
Sugar was a luxury good, as evidenced by the ridiculous one silver eight coppers I had to expend. It was a terrible waste of funds, but at the same time… Melissa and her friend had proven better friends to me than anyone else in so long. I couldn’t offer them any grand emotional support, but the hell if I couldn’t try to give them something to lighten their woes.
While we likely weren’t exactly friends, apt reciprocity was important. Someone tries to stab you, you slit their throat, someone gives you a coin when you’re down on your luck, you return it with interest when you’re back on your feet. I couldn’t boast to be a good person, perhaps not even a decent one, but I left no debts. That was more than could be said for my moral betters.
“Genuine sugar.”
“Th-Thank you!”
She laughed, a few tears flowing down her face. I gave a sad smile thinking of delicacies I myself would never again taste. Sweet potatoes would soon be in season, ah, how I missed my mother’s cooking… While Melissa’s gift had been costly, the price was secondary to what was truly valuable, scarcity. Every haggler knew that price and quality were relevant, but supply crucial.
She quickly took the knife and cut two large pieces for us. I put forth my hands as she futilely searched for a plate.
“I’m so sorry, we don’t have any…”
“No, no. It’s alright, good company far exceeds tableware.”
She laughed for a few moments before depositing the slice on my hands. We had to eat with our hands, no flatware either. So unprepared for guests… I had such things well prepared in my room, as unneeded as they were. My family were hagglers, to be unprepared to entertain was akin to missing untold opportunities. Neither was a pardonable sin in our household.
“God, it tastes like real cake!”
“Ha, ha, ha,” it damn well better.
“How did you get this?”
“I paid the kitchen head to make it special.”
“They told me they couldn’t make cake, or any of the other things I wanted!”
“Yes, it’s important to have your coin purse full and on the counter whenever you make a request.”
Though for her that might backfire. I knew the price of ingredients and managed to negotiate a reasonable price. There was still a high upcharge, but it was worth it.
“How much was it?”
“More than I would’ve liked, but worth every copper,” I pointed to her right cheek before openly brushing my left.
She stared only a second before she took the hint and wiped a large splatch of icing from her cheek. She looked at it, and then to me before chuckling. I grinned, pulling out a bottle.
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“Something to wash it down with?”
“Jesus! You must be popular at parties!”
My smile drooped a bit, but I quickly supplemented it. Every intelligent species possesses that destructive affliction that no medicine can heal; they love to talk about ourselves. It would’ve eased my mind to share my burdens with Melissa, but now was not the time.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. I once helped supply one of Waylon Presley’s performances,” that was a pitiful lie, but unlike Verdia, I knew well how to weave a tale.
“Waylon Presley?”
“Yeah, another other worlder. Here he’s a famous singer, or crooner as he calls himself. He’s old, but he can still sing.”
She nodded, her eyes showing confusion.
“So, besides all the comforts you enjoyed in your world, is there anything else you’re lacking for?”
Not the safest or most pleasant conversation piece, but a salient one. While doubtless most of the things she no longer had access to could not be attained, a few, like cake, could be with the proper effort. I had already carefully noted pomegranates as a potential future gift.
“N-No. Well…”
I leaned in closer, her tone more serious.
“My mom and dad, and little sister… And of course… My boyfriend, I, I really miss him,” she cast her eyes down and lowered her hands onto her lap.
I sighed, great job there Tome, you’re the life and death of the party. Well, since we found ourselves in a hole, might as well see if we couldn’t dig ourselves out, or through to the other end.
“Tell me about him.”
“He was, is, a great guy. We’ve been steady for four years now, in fact, we were going to get married after I got my career started, there was a 3M lab in my hometown. I…It…just happened… I got pulled here, in… Into this world along with Courtney while we were in the lab talking to Dr. Meints. A portal just appeared and dragged us in.”
She was talking quickly, barely taking any breathes.
“They…Priests and officials greeted us, said we were here to save the world. We tried to get them to send us back, but they said it was impossible! We kept begging them to send us back… W-We didn’t want our families to suffer, and Jason, my… I just wanted to get back to him… Finally, after a week they said that we might be able to make it back, if we became good enough in magic.”
Likely those bastards said that after seeing the results of their crystals.
“So we’re here now, doing our damnedest to get back home, and then… That monster, it’s just-just, so…”
“Unfair,” I finished in my most sympathetic voice.
Melissa looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded. Quickly I wiped my right hand clean on my robes before approaching her. I grasped her arm lightly but affectionately.
“You and Courtney are tough, if any other worlder can get back home, it’ll be you two.”
“But, but have you ever heard of any others making it back to earth?”
I didn’t even pause before answering, “Of course, but they were top tier mages, you’ll have to work hard, but I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to make it home.”
Her eyes brightened and the tears stopped just before they fell. I felt bad lying to her, but if I told her that no other worlder had ever returned home, at least alive, it might have been too much for her. While she was hardy, she was an other worlder.
When she realized the truth, she would assumably despise me, for good reason. Although if she reached that point, she would be able to stand on her own, which was what actually mattered. It was a base lie that might cause her to suffer more, but for better or worse, I had made my choice on the matter.
I described to her several other worlders of note who returned home, but who actually had just went missing. Their names and histories were public knowledge, and everyone’s assumptions that they had died in the forest would only add credence to my lies. The more everyone denied something that one passionately believed, the stronger their belief would become. Love was a pathetic illusion, but a useful motivator.
I managed to steer us towards more ordinary topics after meticulously expounding on my lies. For the next half an hour we talked, eating our cake and enjoying the bottle of wine I’d prepared. It was nice to discuss mundane things with someone who wasn’t trying to kill me, didn’t have mental issues, and wasn’t Kevin. I described Sapphire and Indigo Hamlet to her, especially the foris magister training, recommending her and Courtney ask her suitor for added survival tips.
For her part, Melissa described the country of Missouri, forested hilly lands much like the Republic. It mostly contained small towns, or hamlets as I imagined, with many farms and cattle and several large cities. She was from their largest city, Saint Louis. While she didn’t outright say it was a holy city, the name was fairly obvious. It was no wonder both she and Courtney had a penchant for the divine arcane.
She had majored in physical chemistry, which was basically a combination of math and alchemy. Her skills were mostly centered around some large, metallic instrument called an NMR that allowed her to analyze bonds between certain atoms (apparently the building blocks of all matter, liquid, solid, or gas). This thing was an instrument, NOT a tool. She was very adamant on that point. A Dr. Biagioni at MSU (Missouri State something or other) made sure to drill that into their heads, “Machines do work, whereas instruments collect data.”
Which was grossly inaccurate, as machines and instruments of torture both performed work and collected information. Odd that a learned professional would let such an obvious exception slip his mind, though he’d no doubt remember if he ever neglected his taxes.
I was interested in her knowledge, though a little saddened when I found out she subscribed to Kevin’s miniature animal theory. With her I’d give it a possibility of being real, but no more than that. Things that couldn’t be seen or felt were a little, farfetched…
She was in the middle of describing how she interpreted dots on paper to recognize bonds with the NMR instrument (not machine), when the door was unlocked from the outside. The door swung open, revealing a giggling Courtney accompanied by a beaming man with brown hair. Their hands were clasped tightly as they shared a deep kiss. I looked over at Melissa, her bright eyes dulling with every second of their embrace.
“Ah-hem!” I coughed.
“Uh, OH! Melissa, you hav… Tome!?”
“Yeah it’s…” I gritted my teeth, seeing the light reflected off the man’s plentiful gold jewelry and trinkets, “Fastus! How good to see YOU.”
Fastus narrowed his eyes, taking a minute to recollect, “T-TOME, how…Nice.”
“Oh wow, you two know each other!” Courtney bubbled.
Me and Fastus nodded, our fake smiles stretched a little too far. I took a quick swig from the bottle with my free hand while my left still held a piece of cake.
“How do you know each other?” Melissa asked.
“Oh, we’re hallmates,” Fastus answered, giving me a neutral study from head to toe.
I put the bottle down and pressed my hand onto the cake’s icing before I got up. Approaching slowly, I held my sugary hand behind my back, planning to give my acquaintance a friendly pat on the back. Fastus removed his arm from Courtney’s waist and offered it to me.
“Courtney told me what you did for Melissa, I must say, thank you. Thank you, and Tess, for what you did for them.”
Godsdamnit...all...to...hell... I kept my friendly demeanor, wiping the cake I’d plan to smear on his back onto my own robes. He just had to be cordial, such a bastard. Cursing his good manners, I offered him my now mostly clean hand.
He gave a firm, friendly shake, his eyes filled with difficult to discern emotions.
Then from behind me, “Courtney, he brought cake!”
“Cake!!! REAL CAKE?”
“Yeah! And there’s still half left!”
“Tome, thank you!” Courtney gushed, quickly running over to the box.
Fastus laughed, his face showing a soft impression for the first time since I’d known him. We released our handshake, he nodded to me and walked over to join Courtney, laughing softly as the girls exchanged ridonkulouses and other strange exclamations.
I sat with them for a while, surprised at Fastus’ change in attitude. He kept one arm around Courtney at all times, the two of them stopping every so often to look into each other’s eyes. Melissa of course brought up what I’d told her, Fastus raised an eyebrow at me. I shrugged before explaining that it would take many years, if not one or two decades. Fastus wholeheartedly concurred, giving me a wink.
I got up, again wiping my hands on my robes. The sides of my blue robes were streaked white. Thank the Gods I wouldn’t be running into Agrippina today.
“Apologies, but I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Come on, we’re having such fun!”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, but I’ve an appointment with the Vice Dean, and you can imagine how she would be if she had to wait.”
They all nodded. Melissa got up and escorted me out.
“Bye Tome!”
“Bye Courtney! Do enjoy the cake, you too Fastus.”
“Goodbye, Tome.”
Outside the door Melissa placed another slice of cake into my left hand, “Thank you so much Tome, it really means a lot, you coming here… And especially what you said.”
I looked her in the eyes as my free hand brought forth a sheathed dagger. Hey eyes grew in surprise. Deftly I spun the bladed end to face me, the hilt towards her. I shook it up and down, beckoning her. She gave me a puzzled look.
“You don’t have any weapons, being unarmed is being one step closer to pilfered or murdered.”
“Uh…”
“Everyone here carries at least one dagger, take it and be sure to keep it sharp and practice with it. And also, learn another arcane in addition to the divine, you need to protect yourself, and Courtney.”
She took the blade, unsheathing it for examination. It was a lower quality blade, emerald lodestone coated. It was not pristine, two sections chipped from use. She rushed forward quickly, embracing me.
“Thank you so much!”
I simply smiled, using my clean hand to give her a pat on the back in response. I waved at her as she went back to her room. I frowned, looking down at my new slice of cake, I’d just cleaned my hands…
I slowly walked down the corridors to my room, deep in thought. I really wished that I had gifted her a better knife, but none of mine were top quality. I feared she might mistake our necessary separation for one of contempt, but there was no longer anything I could do for her, or her for me. Sadly, if she did stand be my side, she might become my new slower runner, or, worse yet, a faster one…
Also, I knew that we would no longer be having classes together. I would raise a fuss but from Silvanus' looks she blamed me for the mimic. Such a coincidence, especially how Tess just happened to pick that cage... I stopped in front of a door a small ways from my own.
I loudly knocked twice, to which a thin mousey girl answered, opening the door barely a crack, “M-my m-master is not in, do you have a message?”
“I was curious if I might come in?”
“M-most certainly not! I’m sorry, but Master Fastus is very k-keen on that.”
I nodded, not really expecting entrance.
“That’s alright, I merely wished to give you a gift. Here, I can give it to you, but you’ll have to open the door a bit more I’m afraid.”
“I-I-I…”
“It’s a desert, sweet cake, it’s really good,” I held my hand up, displaying the slice that Melissa had gifted me, “But, if you’re not hungry, I suppose I’ll just have…”
“Uh, no! W-w-wait!”
She shut the door, a small clinking heard as she undid the chain. She opened the door wider, allowing me a quick view of Fastus’s room. There was a weighty stack of letters, plush furniture, and a canopied bed along with numerous golden trinkets thoughtfully arrayed throughout. Two thin hands quickly stole the slice from me, greedily taking a nibble. Her eyes nearly exploded, and she attempted to eat the entire thing in one messy mouthful.
“Slowly, my dear, savor the taste.”
“Bu…Fast…migh…migh…c…co…” she tried speaking despite her full mouth.
“He’s busy with his girlfriend right now, enjoy your treat,” I patted her on the head, “Oh! And be certain you clean your face and hands well. Wouldn’t want him to know about your gift, now would we?”
I turned and headed to my room. There were a few hours before my dinner appointment, just enough time to finish drilling those holes on the sides of my door and potentially get those brackets into place. I took one look back when I heard the slave close the door to Fastus’ room. I nodded to myself, one step closer and one new detail to be carefully scrutinized.
Fastus and I had seemingly reached a settlement, but that had been in the company of others. There was no certainty that he would behave similarly the next time we met.
You don’t stop shoring up your defenses just because your neighbor promises not to rob you, particularly when his stare lingers just a tad too long on your property…
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Whenever an association or a friendship comes to an end, a knife should be gifted. This is to symbolize the severing of the relationship. If the relationship was a good one, a fine or expensive knife is best, though a utilitarian one is also acceptable. For less cordial contact conclusions, a rusty, damaged, and cheap knife is to be given, to let the other party know exactly where they stand in your eyes.
-Magda Megaera, author of Etiquette Exercises, Gentility and Grievances, Seemliness for Simpletons, and Proprietary Propriety Politesse Protocol for Poisons.