Jaune shot up gasping for breath, sweat staining the sheets. The same nightmare that had been plaguing him for the last month or so echoed in his mind: the faces of the men he'd killed, or helped kill. They always asked him why, for which Jaune had an answer, but they never stopped asking anyways. Always whispering. Screaming.
It almost made him regret what'd he'd done, regret ever leaving his house in Aschen on that one day to wash his clothes and ending up in the dungeon. Almost. It helped that the most horrific nightmare he'd had yet had been of a scene where Jain and he had lost.
An image of his rotting corpse lying in the sands, getting baked by the sun. All useful equipment stripped from him and flies coming and leaving as they wished in his mouth and nostrils.
He sent out a searching hand towards the floor next to his bed, and fumbled around a bit before finding a bottle. Bringing it up to his mouth, he took a few gulps of the burning liquid to distract himself from the dream he'd just had.
Grimacing at the taste, he discarded the empty flask into his inventory; he'd throw it away later. Preferably when he was actually near something resembling a trash can. The bare room he had rented from one of the cheaper local inns didn't possess such a commodity.
The second time he'd woken up screaming, he'd considered using his shared dreamscape technique to run from his fears. But he wasn't willing to risk his life or sanity simply to accommodate his fears with a sense of escapism.
He tumbled from his bed, matching the grace of a hamster who'd been put into a sock and spun around, he dragged himself to the communal bathroom.
He started the daily ritual of brushing his teeth with the plants he'd used quite some lien to buy. Then started doing his facial musculature training, teaching himself how to smile, look perverted, be intimidating, and much more. After that he practised theatrically pulling his sword out of his mouth.
Jokingly, he pulled it out of his butt once.
Jain had suggested that he learn that move, after all. Before he'd left that was. The mage had gotten used to the other teen's presence, and him suddenly being gone was… jarring. They had spent nearly half a year together after all.
He seemed pretty rushed when he left, leading to a short farewell in which neither of them decided to be overly emotional. The last thing Jain had done had been to press a money pouch into Jaune's hand, containing enough lien to last him a year, as long as he was frugal enough.
That wasn't even mentioning the equipment from the dead bandits that he still had stored in his inventory. He couldn't really sell it in Sanshu out to fear of being prosecuted for the killings.
After washing the dried sweat from his body he looked into the mirror one last time. The bags under his eyes were retreating. Good, the nightmares had gotten less frequent after all. His once-blonde hair was bleached to a more straw like colour, and it looked thinner and more brittle.
Nothing he could do about that. He was doing quests outside everyday, so he was never really not getting exposure to the sun. And when he wasn't questing he was training. He'd managed to raise the level of his swordsmanship, which he was quite proud of.
Well, the term questing was saying a bit much. Jaune was only taking missions to patrol the town border and pick some herbs, after all. He'd been confused at first as to why a request to pick herbs was listed in the adventurer's guild. But as it turned out, all of the herbs had medicinal properties useful to adventurers. The quests were a way to get young adventurers familiarized with plants that could one day save their lives.
And of course to give them some pocket change. Maybe even some EXP, even if the only Grimm one encountered so close to the town were low level and stupid enough to get near a human settlement with a guild.
Rushing down the stairs he greeted the innkeepers daughter, Joy, only to be ignored in favour of some older, more buff guy. Huffing and leaving slightly disappointed, he stepped onto the streets. She was pretty, but seemed the type to chase after social status. Which Jaune didn't have.
Remembering to fish out the bottle of alcohol he'd previously emptied out of his inventory he chucked it into a nearby trash bin.
-/-
"Aren't you a beauty." Jaune looked closer at the opium poppy he had plucked out of the ground. It had a particularly big crown. "Yes you are."
The opium poppy was generally used to create painkillers, often given to soldiers and heroes sent on suicide missions to make them fight longer.
A sad flower. He laid it in a now full satchel. He had taken the quest to gather a hundred of these flowers, which was quite hard when you considered their scarcity.
Maybe it was only scarce because it was always plucked before it could fully spread its seed? He shook his head. They couldn't possibly be that stupid. Leaving the beautiful place that he had only learned of recently, he amused himself by running his fingers through the tall grass and throwing a few arcane bolts into the small lake.
The purplish bolts exploded underneath the surface and created small geysers.
Looking around the semi-lush surroundings one last time, Jaune wondered once again how such a place could exist in the desert. Maybe natural, or maybe magic.
The whimsical thought of how to create such a lively environment in the desert and what skills you would need to do so accompanied him back to the adventurer's guild, where he handed in the quest item to Mina and received his reward of ten lien.
It wasn't a fortune, but one could do a few of these simple quests a day, which would then be enough to live off of. The negative side being, of course, that you had to work seven days a week.
"An escort mission just came in. You said I should notify you." Absentmindedly glancing at the clerk while considering how to properly introduce foreign plant life to the desert, he bid her to continue.
Mina frowned slightly at his hand gesture and kept explaining. "The lady is staying at the Blossoms Inn and would like to speak with the adventurer before accepting his or her protection back to Brorusalem." Jaune's eyebrow twitched and he shuddered.
He knew the name. After all, it was the second largest city in Vacuo, home to its library and arena. But still, Brorusalem…?
Not wasting anymore thoughts on the strange name, he enquired about the woman's name and profession.
He made his way towards where his potential client was staying.
The talk might not be as dull as expected. He'd never heard of the tattooist class before.
-/-
"Aren't you a bit..." Emanon gestured at Jaune, probably at his height. He was, after all, only tall enough to be at eye level with the breasts of the twenty-something-year-old woman.
But he wasn't one to be intimidated by people not accepting him at first glance. He hoped at least. Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "A bit what?" She gestured at him again, looking like she was seeking words.
Fed up with her gesticulation he held up a hand that silenced her. Jain had been right; a big part of being authoritative and confident was acting like you were, and going from there.
"I'm sure that we will have an interesting talk about qualifications, age, and the fact I'm not tall enough to maintain eye contact without craning my neck." He looked pointedly at her chest again, which was displayed prominently with a tank top that also showed off her fairly muscular arms, which were covered with all kinds of dark markings.
He watched almost entranced as one of the painted-on hands swept a few strands of her otherwise confined hair behind her ear. His gaze wandered back to her eyes to see that she had noticed him looking at her in what must have been slightly dazed manner. His neck was cramping from looking upwards so much.
"Come on, let's get a table somewhere and talk things out," he said hurriedly as he walked past her into the inn, trying to suppress a blush. Trying being the key word.
He felt her shuffling behind him, long legs allowing her to walk leisurely while he had to take long strides to stay in the lead. He scouted out a cut-off table with his dimensional comprehension, then walked towards it without hesitation and took a seat. He waved Emanon to sit down as well.
Which she did with a bit of a grin on her face. Holding up her head with an arm, she leaned towards him, inadvertently letting him gaze into her decollete.
"You know, I like men who can take control of a situation," she said. Jaune remained unaffected by the sight and her words; a month of sleep deprivation could do that to anyone. He narrowed his eyes. Something was off about this person.
"Well, good thing I'm not a man then." He pointed his hand at himself and exclaimed almost proudly, "I am a boy."
Emanon laughed a not very ladylike laugh. The tattooist looked over him again. "You're what, twelve?"
Jaune rolled his eyes and corrected her. "Thirteen actually, not that it matters." She waved him off.
"You're right, it doesn't matter. Well, I like your attitude. Most adventurers seem to think that just because they escort me to some place, they gain some..." Her eyes gained a cold glint. Jaune shivered, despite her being a civilian. "...privileges."
That was a weird implication, would heroes really…?
Jaune sighed, remembering the bandits that had tried killing him and Jain. There would always be people like that.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he did what his family preached: 'Don't be an asshole of an Arc.' Grandpa, did you actually say something normal, ever?
"Then I apologize on behalf of all combat professions."
Emanon looked surprised, then smiled and said, "Thanks, even if you're not responsible."
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Jaune looked at her deeply from behind his ruffled-as-usual hair. "If someone from a group of individuals you belong to does something untoward, it simply means you have not exerted enough influence to make all even slightly displeasing behaviours..." He frowned. "...inadvisable."
A clap resounded as Emanon slapped her thigh. "You read Stone's works as well." Innerly Jaune was surprised but kept a calm countenance. He had grown up among a family of women, so he knew that if he let his face slip up now, Emanon would probably think he was doubting her ability to read.
He just knew it.
She kept talking, "You have, haven't you." Her eyes glistened as she asked, "What's your favourite quote?"
Jaune paused. He had read Stone's works, but he had found the man to be detached and clinical. His works made humans out to be a simple result of their psychology and outside influences, oftentimes mocking humanity for its flaws and refusal to work at them in a weird blend of psychology, philosophy, and cultural dissertations often based on human biology.
Most of the things he had read had flown over his head at the time, and Stone's thought processes had been too detached for him to review his works all over again once he had gained the sufficient understanding. Maybe he should. The gray wasn't so black and white anymore, a notion that Stone had repeated at every opportunity. According to him it wasn't even about colors; he just hated metaphors because they could never be completely accurate.
According to him, the world was simple cause and effect.
Emanon was still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Weird, she didn't look like a person who would embrace that particular philosopher's ideas. Women mostly didn't. He racked his brain, trying to remember a quote that he had really liked.
Ah, there it was.
"I'm not the biggest fan, but something that has stuck with me ever since reading a few of his books has been, 'You may not be rewarded for hard work, but without hard work there will definitely be no reward.'"
Emanon grinned at him brightly and said, "You're hired." Jaune did a double take and then leaned back, rubbing his suddenly throbbing temples.
"You know, my preference on philosophical texts doesn't actually have an effect on my combat ability!" he exclaimed incredulously, causing Emanon to look at him in confusion.
"Why does it matter, I thought you wanted the job?"
Jaune nodded at her words. "I do, but I don't know if I can trust an employer who makes decisions so lightly." He shook his head, causing his his hair to whip about. "After all, flighty people aren't the most reliable."
After all, you never knew when someone unpredictable would stab you in the back.
Emanon leaned back into her chair, putting her arms behind her head as she looked at him expressionlessly, drawing his eyes to the drawings under her armpits. Was there a piece of her body that wasn't used as a canvas? And what was the function of those drawings? If it had been a part of Vacuo's fashion, Jaune would have heard about the custom from his sisters.
Emanon spoke deliberately and clearly. "I do not need someone who can defeat an army on his lonesome. I need someone who I won't hate spending my time with." She raised her hand to halt any interruptions. "The road between here and Brorusalem would take a month to traverse. The area around the road is regularly cleared by the emperor's army. At most, you will have to dispose a few weak Grimm that the army is paid to let through to force merchants into hiring adventurers. Which-"
She looked pointedly at Jaune's well-worn sword that he had laid next to the table and his bulky torso, covered as it was by chainmail. "-is something I think you are perfectly capable of."
Jaune shrugged. "Ok."
The woman to raise an eyebrow and asked, "What, no more arguments?"
Jaune waved the words away. "You convinced me," the mage said and followed up with a question. "When are we leaving?"
-/-
Jaune heaved another crate into Emanon's wagon, cursing as another splinter bit into his skin. He turned to the woman who was working beside him, annoyed. These crates always seemed to be filled with heavy things.
Bottles of different coloured liquids, needles, and one which just had a bunch of drawings in it. Probably the tattoo designs, something which he had enquired about. He wondered why anyone would brand their skin like that, though. Sure, it looked nice. But what if you decided you didn't like it one month later? It wasn't really easy to remove.
"Couldn't you afford better crates?" Jaune showed her his hand, which was looking more and more roughed up by the second. The tattooist looked at him oddly.
"What better crates?" She asked while lifting the last one onto the wagon.
"You know, made out of better wood, so it doesn't splinter so easily." The mage raised his hands in exasperation. It's not like better ones would cost much more, and they would last longer as well.
"It would cost too much, importing that kind of wood from Vale or Atlas. It would cost at least ten times as much." She looked at him queerly. "Not really something I can afford."
Jaune scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. He had probably gotten a bit carried away, annoyed by the pain. He hadn't even bothered to think about the fact that not everyone had the money to buy things just because they wanted to.
Nodding once, he went ahead to the front of the carriage, throwing a mistrustful glance at Emanon's camel, Humpy. A glance that it returned. He swung himself into the driver's seat and waited for Emanon to join him.
Once she did, they set off. Jaune couldn't help but use his sensing on Sanshu, a place he'd lived in for a month and that he would probably never visit again, until it left his range.
Watching absently and occasionally directing the camel, he noted how the woman sitting next to him pulled out a pipe stuffed with what he assumed was tobacco.
So she didn't have enough money to afford better crates, but she had the money to buy something like tobacco?
He didn't say anything. She was his employer after all. He would probably never see her again after completing this mission.
After a few hours of looking out at the road and deciding that no, they weren't going to be jumped by a rabid pack of Grimm anytime soon, he extended his senses fully, pulled out a book, and started reading.
He felt Emanon glance over curiously once, but she didn't say anything, so he just ignored her.
It didn't take long until he felt a lone Creep advancing slowly towards their wagon. Putting his book down so that he could use dimensional comprehension to its full potential, he sensed around to find out if the Creep was a distraction.
Since there were no others present in the area, he assumed it wasn't. He pursed his lips. There shouldn't be any reason for such a small Grimm to make it onto the road.
Maybe there was merit in the thought that the adventurers' guild let them through on purpose.
Angry now, he didn't hesitate to send a powerful arcane bolt at the Grimm as it came into view. The bolt flew through the air, whistling all the way and hitting the Creep head on, disintegrating it instantaneously.
"Nice shot," Emanon said while looking over his shoulder and puffing a cloud of some weird herb next to his face. The smell wasn't unpleasant. He guessed it wasn't tobacco after all.
"Thanks."
-/-
After some thinking he decided that from an adventurers perspective, it did in a way make sense to let weaker Grimm near trading routes. Trading routes meant heroes, occasionally young heroes.
And young heroes needed experience, both literally and metaphorically. He imagined the people responsible for that were not entirely unhappy about the fact it also forced merchants and travellers to hire heroes, which added to the adventurers' guild's revenue.
Hitting the pommel of his sword against the last stake he drove it firmly into the ground. With a grunt he stood up and looked over his handiwork.
A shoddy tent, noticeably of cheap origin, sticking up from the sands, next to a wagon with a camel tied to it. A Bactrian, as he'd found out from Emanon, distinguishable by the fact that it had two humps.
Camels, adaptable creatures. He'd learned a few things about them from Emanon today. Like the fact that they had three eyelids and two rows of eyelashes, to prevent sand from entering their eyes.
He rubbed some sand off his face.
It was getting windier as the sun set. He looked towards the orange hues as they became one with the desert, the sun sinking lower and lower.
He'd once thought that the sun would be gone forever. Back when he'd still been a child, he had told his sisters not to worry. Assuring them that one day he would become a powerful enough mage to make it appear again. Or if necessary, create another one.
Thinking for a second that maybe his next gesture would be too childish, he hesitated. Then he decided to act like the child he still was. And hell, becoming an adult didn't mean giving up on doing fun things.
He raised a hand to cover the sun, then closed his fist around it until it finally set a few minutes later. His powers were more suited to making things disappear after all. Even if he stashed away all the equipment he wouldn't be needing in the night, those things had the tendency to come back.
Maybe one day he would know a spell powerful enough to swallow the sun. Wasn't that a thought.
A thought he dwelled on for maybe to long before he finally knocked on the door of the wagon.
"Are you finished up with your mixing?" Some banging, loud curses, and crashing, thankfully not the smashing of bottles, were his answer.
Emanon had also explained some things about her profession to him after he'd asked. He had been curious about what being a tattooist entailed, mostly because he'd never met one. He'd been disappointed to find out it basically entailed the mixing of ink and applying this to the skin of humans in aesthetically pleasing designs.
He wondered if there was a higher level to it. Blacksmiths and other creating jobs had the power to make artefacts and items so well-made one could almost mistake them as being magical.
The door opened and Emanon poked her head out, hair settling gently around her like a halo. "I'm done. What's up?"
Jaune raised an eyebrow at the expression. He hadn't heard of the phrase 'what's up' before. Would the answer to that really be what was up? In this case the sky. Unlikely, the mage thought to himself.
Therefore he pointed behind himself and said one simple word that made almost all people smile.
"Dinner." While setting up his tent he had set up a small fire pit and had started to roast a few pieces of meat, vegetables, and bread on a skewer.
He was thankful that he would always have that luxury, thanks to the fact that food put in his inventory didn't spoil.
And as expected, Emanon's eyes lit up, making her seem even more beautiful. Jaune shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. It was just his biology acting up. Gathering himself mentally he watched as the woman jumped out the door and scurried towards the food.
Sniffing the air, he did note that the smell was quite appealing.
They didn't talk much as they ate. Jaune was busy thinking about combat applications of swords intertwined with the interrupting factor of an available inventory and Emanon was thinking about… whatever.
Jaune wasn't a mind mage after all. He couldn't read thoughts.
Though from what he knew, mind mages would be quite affronted if you referred to what they did as reading. It implied that delving into the memories and thought processes of another human being was as simple as opening a book and starting to read.
Which it wasn't. Apparently.
Laying back on the sand, the mage considered his future arrival in Brorusalem. He'd heard they had quite the big library, containing all sorts of books, available to all. And who knew? If he snapped up a part time job as a librarian, he could maybe get access to some of the more restricted tomes.
Oh, it wasn't advertised that they possessed them. But everyone knew. And if some went missing for a day or two, only to appear again, a copy in a certain mage's inventory? Well...
He didn't really think they had a way to prove anything. And knowledge was supposed to be free anyway.
He shivered at the approaching cold, getting goosebumps, his hair standing on end. He looked over at Emanon to see the same phenomenon appearing on her skin, making an interesting contrast on her tattoos. He could see she was apparently also feeling the cold, by the way she was hugging her knees, some grease still shining from her lips.
Jaune's fingers twitched. It was his first time spending time alone with an unrelated female. Suffice to say, it was annoying. He felt the need to impress her the entire time, and he couldn't help but find himself looking at some particular parts of her anatomy at inopportune times.
He would read up on basic human biology next time he had access to such books. Maybe it would be less annoying if he knew the exact reasons for such behaviour. And maybe he could repress it. He didn't find the idea of lusting after someone while knowing it wasn't quite possible, or the best idea, to be productive.
And with what he knew from living in a family of seven women, he didn't quite think that a relationship was feasible nor healthy anytime soon.
He shoved the thoughts he was having aside. It was normal to have them during and even after puberty from what he'd read. But they were unproductive.
"Can I sleep with you?" Those words coming from Emanon didn't make the shoving aside part easy, though.
Thankfully he was used to saying no to girls.
"No." By the look on her face, he had gotten quite good at it too. He wasn't daft enough to think she meant sleep as in intercourse. She probably just wanted to share body warmth. He had been surprised as well by the harsh temperatures of the desert. But he had blankets for that.
He didn't need to let another person into close proximity while he was at his most vulnerable. By the offended look on her face he didn't have to worry about being backstabbed anytime soon though. She didn't really seem the type.
But as Jain said, why take the risk?
"May I ask why." Emanon asked.
He thought about her question-statement hybrid for a moment.
The mage couldn't really tell her he feared the small chance that she would slit his throat while he slept and run off with all his things.
Maybe those bandits had hurt his mental state more than he thought they had. That reasoning though, would hurt her feelings and make her dislike him. He knew enough about the vindictive woman mentality thank you very much.
So he said the first thing that came to mind.
"I would have an erection the entire time sleeping next to you and it would be really uncomfortable," Jaune said. Then he froze.
Then Emanon froze. Jaune face-palmed. Emanon laughed. And Humpy bleated.