Chapter 401 - Cadria II

The foreigners returned to the table as soon as the duel was over. The people of Estau, likewise, filed back to their seats with their moods improved and their purse strings loosened. They ordered plenty of ale, both for themselves and the victorious fighter.

Of course, not all of the locals were quite so jovial. Some still looked upon the girl with scorn, but perhaps because their representative had already fallen, they couldn’t be bothered to speak up.

For Mirta, it was but a moment of temporary relief. She knew that all would go back to normal whenever the foreigners left town. She would be scorned and ignored. The simple act of asking for something that its owner otherwise found unwanted would result in a wave of abuse. It certainly wasn’t pleasant, but Mirta had long grown numb to it all. The only way to assert her will, to force them to look upon her with respect, was to prove herself in battle. And as a poor orphan with no decent equipment and a pair of spindly arms, she had no hope of seeing it done.

That was simply the way that things were. Ironically, it was always the outsiders that treated her best.

“Here, catch.”

Still, it came as a surprise when the strange, shelled man tossed her a massive helping of bread. She fumbled the loaf, nearly dropping it three times before it somehow settled in her hands. She wasn’t really sure how it happened. It had looked like it had slipped out of her fingers, but somehow, she managed to keep it from falling. Even more confusing was the way that he slid his stew across the table. As with the bread toss, it was a careless motion. Still, the stew refused to spill, no matter how ready it looked to go over the edge.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was charity. Even travellers wanted something from her. Many of the other orphans had told her to be careful, that they had tricked and hurt, thanks to the ridiculous demands that followed their supposed free meals. That was why she didn’t dare dig in immediately. She looked between the food and its provider, cautious even as she caught the spoon that he tossed her way. If she was lucky, he would be one of the ones that just wanted to see an exaggerated display of gratitude.

“Hurry up and fucking eat before I change my mind, you little shit.”

The harsh tone only magnified her caution. Trembling, Mirta was about to put down the so-called gifts and back away when another one of the group’s members stepped between them.

“Stop that, Jules. You’re scaring her.”

The woman with the oddly calming voice was probably an elf, like the older man on the other side of the table. It was hard to tell because her ears were hidden beneath a layer of thick, golden locks.

“Not my problem,” said the man named Jules. He lifted a mug to his face and downed its contents in a single breath.

“I doubt you actually believe that.” Sighing, the lady crouched down so her eyes were level with Mirta’s and put on a smile. It was clearly forced, but the tiny cottontail appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She didn’t expect any genuine smiles from anyone anyway. “Sorry about that idiot. What he’s really trying to say is that you don’t need to hesitate. The bowl’s all yours.”

“Bitch, when the fuck did I say any of that!?”

The lady forcefully closed the shelled man’s lid and sat on top of it. “You see? He just has a potty mouth because he was abused as a child.”

“I was not!” shouted Jules.

“Just ignore him,” said the blonde lady.

“T-thank you.” Mirta remained hesitant, but she opened her mouth and slowly brought the food to her lips. She looked between the meal and the foreigners, carefully observing their expressions before she finally gave it a swallow. The second bite was a little faster, and the third even more so. By the fourth, she was practically inhaling her meal. She was starving, the bread was fresh, and the stew was even better. It must have been at least a week since she had any that wasn’t already half eaten.

She didn’t look up again until she finished scarfing it down. She was full, bloated even. The portion had been centaur sized, and it was a little too much for her to have eaten all at once.

By the time she turned her eyes back on them, the lady, the man, and their friends had already returned to their previous positions. A brief scan of the table seemed to reveal a series of kind gazes. It was a little hard to tell, but the only ones that didn’t seem to care were their pets. She couldn’t really read the knight either, but at the very least, he didn’t seem hostile.

When she turned back to the shelled man, she found him with his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. “So? What’s your deal?”

Mirta gulped. She practically jumped out of her skin when their eyes met, but she managed to squeeze out her voice after a few silent attempts. “I-I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“What happened to your parents?”

The tiny rabbit lowered her gaze. “They’re dead.”

Jules clicked his tongue. “Sucks, but shouldn’t mean you should be out on the streets. Does Cadria not have any orphanages or something?”

“T-there’s one in town, but it’s full.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s full?” He pushed himself out of his seat. “Full my ass. I bet these greedy fucks are just keeping all the goddamn money for themselves.”

He stood up and made for the door, but Mirta ran after him, grabbed him by the sleeve, and shook her head from side to side. “T-they’d never do that. T-they’re good people.”

She didn’t know what he was planning to do, exactly, but she didn’t want to bring them trouble. She was the one who had left on her own, and any trouble they had would only make it harder for them to take care of the other kids.

Jules turned around and met her eyes again. His stare was unnerving, piercing and red, but Mirta stayed steady for long enough that he seemed to calm down.

“My bad.” Raising both his arms in defeat, he dragged himself back to the table and into his seat.

“I-it’s okay,” said Mirta. She tried to smile, but she wasn’t really sure if it came out right. “T-thanks for the meal. I’m going to be on my way now.” She tried to leave immediately, setting her sights on the door again.

But the man had other plans.

“Not yet, you aren’t.” He grabbed her by the shoulder. “Not till you pay me back.”

Mirta froze. She could feel her heart sinking as she turned back around. He had seemed kind, but evidently, a free meal was too much to ask for. She should’ve known better. But at the same time, she didn’t understand why a man in a party with so many women would want to openly take advantage of a scrawny little thing like her.

Her eyes watery, she met his gaze and gulped. There was no point in stalling. If she was going to become his plaything, then so be it. At least she would likely be fed more often. “H-how do you want me to pay you back?”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“He’s going to ask you to do something naughty,” said the elf girl. She winked, only to be struck in the back of the head with an expensive-looking fan.

“That is enough, Chloe,” said the girl with the big hat. “I would rather you refrained from suggesting something so vulgar.” Her race was also difficult to distinguish. She almost looked human, but her words suggested that she was anything but.

“Sorry,” said the girl named Chloe, with an unapologetic smile. Perhaps she was the one that was human? It was hard to say without seeing her ears.

“Yeah, so ignoring that pervert,” Jules sat back in his chair, “How about you tell me a meal’s worth of stories?”

“S-stories?” Mirta blinked. It wasn’t what she expected. The tension almost drained from her body, only to return again as she realised that none of her problems were solved. “I-I don’t really know any decent stories.” She nervously looked around the table, but thankfully, none of the gazes turned hostile.

“Then tell me how you got here and we can call it even.”

Mirta blinked. “A-are you sure that’s enough?”

“As long as you stop fucking dawdling,” he said. Perhaps he was kind after all.

“O-okay.” The rabbit took a few breaths. “My parents used to run a small atelier in town,” she said, quietly. “I used to work the front desk, and we were always doing pretty okay. But then they went to Tornatus for a conference with some of the other artificers. They were supposed to come back after a week.” It felt like her breath was stuck in her throat, but she managed to squeeze the words out regardless. “But then the sky fell.”

“...That’s some bad luck right there,” said the shelled man.

A wave of awkwardness spread through the table. It didn’t click for everyone at quite the same time. Sylvia, for one, had to look around the table twice before she recalled the act in which she had taken part. But Claire had caught on as soon as the girl had named her parents’ profession. She knew it wasn’t a lie. She could tell from the sound of the rabbit’s heart, the uncontrolled trembling in her voice, and the look in her eyes, that the testimony was valid.

It was her fault.

It wasn’t like such a situation came as a bolt from the blue. She had always understood the ramifications of her ludicrous tantrum, but she was numb to the aftermath, ready to put it behind her. And yet, there was an awful taste in her mouth. Something weighed down on her shoulders, refusing to leave her alone, even as she pushed back against it with her vectors. She felt like averting her eyes, turning away from the truth so it would not be discovered, even though she had long committed to facing it.

There was another part of her that wanted to blurt it out loud—to admit that it was her fault and relieve herself of half the burden. She fought it back, of course, but it continued to swim around in the back of her head, right alongside the urge to dig a hole and crawl inside.

“Is that why the orphanage is full?” asked Jules.

The rabbit nodded.

“Still doesn’t really explain why the townsfolk are treating you like shit,” he said, as he scanned the room again.

“Because it’s our fault the sky fell,” said the girl, quietly.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” said Jules, as he scratched the back of his head. “All the shit that happened in Tornatus was political. Ain’t no fucking kid’s fault.” He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “Here tell you what, you little shit. Take this.” He slid a pouch into her hands after scanning the room to ensure that no one was watching. “Dunno how much it’ll stand for, but if you use it carefully, it might do enough to get your back on your feet.”

The girl looked between the man and the pouch, wide-eyed.

“Now shoo. Hurry up and get the hell outta here,” he said, waving his hand.

“T-thank you. I promise I’ll pay you back one day.” Gulping, she hid the pouch in her shirt and started towards the door.

Jules, in the meantime, leaned back into his seat and raised his drink to his lips. Had he any legs, he surely would have thrown them on the table. He sipped at the wine as he watched her leave before finally speaking under his breath. “Shit, huh?”

“It happens,” said Lana. “It’s war.”

“I have to say, you handled that quite well, much better than I would’ve expected.” Krail, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the encounter, smiled softly as he passed his bread to the clam. “You’re much more benevolent than I gave you credit for.”

“Dunno about that one,” said Jules. “I was just doing it for my ego’s sake anyway.” He glanced at Claire. “And hers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” Jules threw up his arms. “Anyway, bit late to be asking, but you sure you’re down to do this?” His eyes were locked on Claire’s armoured form, and his voice was low enough that only she could hear it loud and clear. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but that usual facade of yours has gone straight out the window.”

Claire shrugged. “I’m fine.” She closed her eyes and settled back into her seat. Cowardice was not an option, nor even a path to atonement. And yet, it still plagued her. The look on the tiny cottontail’s face. Her obvious, easily legible emotions. All because she saw a glimpse of her shadow in one of her victims.

Still, she was able to push her irritation from her mind, return to her room, and fall right asleep. She had practically forgotten about the whole event by morning, albeit more by intention than accident.

She was confident she would have gone the whole day without recalling it had the innkeeper not run up the stairs with the sun’s rising. Claire tried to furl in her ears when she awoke to the noise, but no amount of physical interference could stop her from overhearing the panicked knocks hammered against the men’s door.

There were at least three dozen knocks before any of the men finally awakened, and another ten or so before they crawled their way to the entrance.

“What the fuck is with all this noise?” grumbled Jules.

“I’m sorry for all of the noise but it’s an emergency,” said the innkeeper, as quickly as she could. ”I know this might sound like a bit of a strange question, but this is really important. How much money did you give Mirta?”

“Who the fuck is Mirta?”

“The little girl who came to the restaurant last night.”

“Oh, her?” Jules’ tone was lowered to a growl. “I didn’t give her any money. I just fed her and called it a day.”

“I know I probably sound really suspicious right now, but please trust me. Was it around a pound of gold?”

“I didn’t give her jack, lady. Fuck off already.”

“This morning, she donated half a pound of gold to the orphanage before running off, and no one’s seen her since.”

“Doesn’t mean shit,” said the clam. Claire could practically hear his smirk.

“A half-decent spear costs about half a pound. She probably bought one and headed off into the forest.” The innkeeper, on the other hand, was grim. Her voice was trembling, barely audible.

“So?”

“Half the monsters in the forest are over level five hundred.”

“Is she fucking stupid?” Jules groaned. There was an audible smack, no doubt because he had smacked a palm into his forehead. “Claire! I know you’re awake! Get the fuck out here!”

Claire paused briefly before deciding to abide by his request. Slithering up to the mirror, she assumed her humanoid form and turned her accessories into the usual armour. She gave herself a brief inspection, checking to ensure that there weren’t any inconsistencies in her appearance before walking out the door.

“I’ll head out too, but can you fly ahead and check for the little shit? You know, since you’re faster.”

Though less than inclined to follow his orders, Claire slowly nodded and made for the window. She hadn’t the faintest clue as to where the child had gone, but engaging her catgirl affinity skill, much to her annoyance, produced a set of tracks. She wasn’t exactly keen on letting the clam off scot-free, so she dragged him along with a set of vectors as she flew through the sky.

But even without her guidance, he likely would have arrived at the scene.

There was a huge surge of magic as they neared their destination. The trees parted like a line of ants, revealing a massive, fresh clearing with two rabbits staring down a trio of fire-breathing, camel-like beasts.

One was the girl they were looking for, covered from head to toe in half-broken artifacts with a sword between her fingers, while the other stood in front of her, staff raised and glowing.

A third of a second later, and the beasts were felled. Roots sprang from beneath the ground and tore straight through their bodies, tearing them to bits.

The taller rabbit, who stood at a height of about a meter, didn’t let her guard down immediately. She scanned her surroundings to affirm that there was no more prey afoot before turning her eyes on the pair in the sky.

Her face was obscured by her oversized hat. But Clarie knew her nonetheless.

And though she was far enough away to remain a blur, though her features were hidden, Claire could tell from the way the caster had moved her lips.

She had called her name.