Madama Kishirra smiled widely at those words. Her cheeks turned a little darker.

“Rest assured you will not. But I do appreciate you concern.” She picked up her armour with a single hand, the heavy tetrarmide plates seemingly as light as feathers. She put the brigandine on, clasping each section into place with a satisfying click. Once she was ready, she ran her hands over her armour, pressing here and there as the plates crinkled against each other like dry leaves.

“Impressive. As always, but I dare say it once more: impressive. I believe my armour improves a little bit each time I ask you for a repair!”

That was too kind. Far too kind, in fact. Our furnace would never be able to produce the same quality as the sanctified ovens in Madua. So I did not give it too much weight. She was just trying to be considerate, that was all.

No reason for my stomach to make flip-flops, none at all!

“Just don’t take it as an excuse to throw yourself away,” I said reaching out to press my hand against her brigandine, checking the pressure points between the plates. Purely professional interest! And also I was going to tell her once again: “Seriously, you should take your own life into consideration. At least a little bit more, Madama Kishirra!”

I looked up into her eyes and her gaze washed over me with the intensity of freshly-woven steel.

“It is precisely so,” she explained, her voice reduced to a ghostly whisper. “This is what is giving value to my life and prevents me from making any future mistakes. This is my Test.” I frowned, trying to understand what she was saying. It did not really make sense to me – and what did she mean by future mistakes? “Are we finished?” She brushed against my hand, which was still pressing against her waist.

“Ah! Yes, yes, we are quite finished, thank you.” I swiftly set my wandering hands deep into my pockets, looking away. An ice-thin silence fell between us. Kishirra sighed and rummaged into her backpack, producing a small pouch tinkling with silver.

“Please do take these. I will be in your care soon enough.”

“Try not to,” I said even though my words felt as dry as ash. I did not know what to say or how to stop her. I did not even know what was going on! “What’s even happening? Whatever you are doing… is it really worth it?”

She gave me another of those half-smiles, but this one looked a little sadder.

“You are young. And your life will last nary a few years, and then your soul will depart to wherever Mannish souls go. This is not a fate shared by all, my sweet Lugana.” She set her backpack once again on her shoulders, balancing it with her weapon. She was about to leave. I would not see her for a long while, and I was all out of healing seeds I could share with her. I did not want her to leave. She was still healing, Kishirra would probably spend all her time fighting whatever she was dealing with and then she’d come back, even more battered than before. I wanted to keep her here.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Uh, your… your weapon? Doesn’t it need a look as well?”

Her silver eyes shifted to her poleaxe and glinted with amusement.

“I believe this would be the last thing you could take care of. But I will let you know, as long as your prices stay…”

“Yes. Of course. We would not want to lose you. As a customer.” Damn, now I was rambling. It was always the same thing. No matter what world I lived in, no matter my name, no matter my body: I was always going to be a blabbering mess of a girl. I could not stop Kishirra, no matter how much I wanted to just bar the doors and keep her with me in the garden. What would I do if she came back missing a hand, or a leg, just because I couldn’t convince her to stay here and not throw her life away? Why did Elves have to be such a stubborn lot all the time? “I… just wanted to say…” What kind of words could I say? I was not the kind of person who was good at this. I would always be a disaster. “Nevermind. Please take care.”

She regarded me with those silver eyes. I felt like she was hesitating. Maybe I had made this even more awkward than it needed to be. We were standing now on opposite sides of a widening chasm. She was getting farther and farther away.

“Please believe me when I say I am precisely doing so. I am far more self-absorbed than you can imagine. Every kindness I receive is given on credit.” She raised her three fingers in her usual goodbye, and she turned and left. For the first time since I had known her, I did not escort her to the workshop’s exit.

All I could do was watching her disappear behind the garden’s entrance.

Kishirra’s words kept echoing in my head. A light spring drizzle started to pour from the sky and Mom did not feel well enough to go out and deal with the plants, so I had to put on a coat and take care of the garden’s weeds, shearing the inopportune growth.

The Knight was doing all this, and for whom?

In my old life, I had given little thought to the idea of a soul – I was just too busy escaping the pressure of being a total failure, and now here I was again, kneeling in the mud with a pair of shears in my hands, scared to the death about saying the right words.

I had changed words and life and I was still stumbling over the same blocks. I couldn’t even make Kishirra wait a single minute, and I was still shaking with anxiety at the thought of leaving the house. Even the idea of setting a foot outside, going to the market… talk with people was enough to make me shiver harder than the biting rain.

And while I was shaking with panic at the thought of flapping my mouth, that Elvish woman spent night and day in the hills, fighting who knew what.

I wasn’t going to pick up her faith. It did not really made sense to stay an atheist after you were living proof of the existence of souls and reincarnation, but there was still something deep inside me that rattled painfully at the thought of throwing myself into the hands of a greater power, whatever it may be.

So no white cloth for me.

But that did not really matter, did it?

I blinked as more rain fell into my eyes, trying to keep my focus as I cleaned up the garden.

It did not matter how I felt. Sooner or later, I would have to face the music. And Kishirra was out there, living through storm and hail, not even asking for a thank-you. She was so much different from me. So much better in every way.

I could never be like her. I would have to let go of these childish dreams, and forget all about her. She was so brave and I could barely string together a welcome. I couldn’t look someone in the eyes without fidgeting, and I would probably amount to nothing more than a girl in the mud, cutting down weeds.

I had yet to start writing even a page of my book.

When I finished dealing with the garden, my mood was already at rock bottom.

“I cleared the garden of weeds…” I said opening the door to Mom’s office. I found her with her eyes closed, panting slowly as she groaned on her chair. She was red in the face and sweat pearled her face at the light of the candles. “Mom!” I rushed to her side, clasping my hand over her forehead. It was as hot as an oven.