Having emptied my plate, I ordered a mug of light beer and leaned back in my chair. Aun, sitting across from me, looked pleased, as if he had not merely visited his cousin at work but had acquired plans for a secret assault at the enemy army's headquarters. Of course, what he had told was indeed interesting, but there were no specifics in his words. He did not learn about the opponents' preferred weapons or their fighting style, only general information that any spectator would know after the first tournament round. But there was nothing to reproach the young man for; he had found out what he could at this stage, which was good.
Apparently, the lad picked up something in my mood because after sipping some diluted spring water wine, he wiped the smile off his face and said in a serious tone:
"I'll also drop by my cousin's tomorrow. I'll look around, ask some questions; maybe I'll find out something else." He looked up at me and, hiding some doubt in his inflections, added: "After all, any little thing can turn out to be useful."
"Perhaps." I agreed with him.
"Hmm-hmm." Aun wanted to say something but changed his mind at the last moment as if he didn't know how to approach the subject.
"Speak up." I encouraged him.
"Don't we need to collect your things from the inn?"
These words didn't come easily to the lad, as if he was shy about touching on this topic. Although, most likely, he was really feeling uncomfortable because he was essentially forced to entrust his life to a random person, an outsider. While I was thinking about how to respond to him in order to also slightly reassure him, the young man misunderstood my silence and began to babble:
"I will compensate for the inn expenses. Besides, my house is much more spacious, and you can choose any room you like."
"Let's finish what we've ordered," I replied as calmly as possible, "and we'll go for the things. In the meantime, tell me about your relatives."
Listening to the rambling speech of Aun, who didn't know where to start and kept repeating himself, I thought about how the memory of my future self had changed the current me. If it weren't for that, I would probably have felt genuine sympathy for this lad. I would have tried to really help him, not only to save him from assassinations but also to find out who was behind them.
But now… Now I'm not going to conduct a real investigation and spend my time on it. I clearly understand that I can't help everyone around. Yes, while I'm nearby, I will aid as much as I can, but no more. I simply can't afford to spend my time on such things. And as soon as the tournament is over, I will immediately leave Tries. It doesn't matter whether the boy's problems will be solved by that time or not. Yes, I will feel a little guilty about leaving him alone, but I will do it; I will step over myself and leave without looking back. The me, as I was before this whole story, probably would have been outraged by such an approach and would not even have shaken hands with my present self. Perhaps so.
In the meantime, the lad pulled himself together, and his story was becoming more and more structured. The Duan clan, to which Aun's family belonged, was quite large and had several branches. At the same time, the elder branch of the clan had a certain influence in Tries, not very big, but was included in the hundred wealthiest families of the city. However, this influence hardly extended to the younger families, as I understood from the young man's story. And the longer I listened to him, the more clearly I understood that many people could wish for his death. And not because Aun personally offended someone or crossed their path but because of the specific branch of the clan he belonged to. Family internal politics were too complicated. Someone's grandfather once set up someone else's grandmother, and she, in turn, bankrupted the nephew of a third, and such chains of hatred and mutual claims, judging by the boy's speech, stretched almost infinitely. But at the same time, the lad could not name an obvious enemy who would want his death. It was generally difficult for him to tell all this, as I was still a stranger, and family secrets are family secrets. Nevertheless, he wanted to live and, stepping over himself, tried to remember all his father's ill-wishers.
My beer mug was already empty, but the boy continued to speak, and as far as I could tell, his story could go on for many more hours. Therefore, I interrupted him and suggested we continue later, and we, having paid for our meal, left the tavern.
No sooner had we stepped onto the street than Aun unexpectedly begged me to teach him how to fight. At first, I wanted to brush off his request because teaching something genuinely useful in such a short time is nearly impossible. But then I reconsidered, realizing that a few lessons wouldn't hurt him. For instance, the ability to fall correctly, which could actually save his life. Plus, training would teach him to follow my orders without hesitation, which could also positively impact his survival. Despite becoming somewhat cynical due to my premonitions of what was to come, I still wanted to save the boy. Something about him appealed to me, despite his slightly irritating mercantile boldness.
We reached the inn without any adventures. All this time, pushing my Perception Aura to the limit, I tried to understand whether someone was following us or not. Periodically I would suddenly stop as if something interested me; sometimes, I abruptly turned around, supposedly to ask Aun something important. But all these tricks led to nothing. Either the one watching us was too good to be caught by such ploys, or simply no one was following us at all.
While I was gathering my things, Aun was negotiating with the innkeeper about a partial refund for the room, which was paid for several days in advance. To my surprise, the lad indeed managed to succeed in negotiations. It seemed like a small matter, but money, even a tiny amount, is never superfluous. Loading the youth with a bundle, in which my armor was, I went out onto the street unburdened.
"It's heavy." Unused to such load, Aun swayed, trying to accommodate the awkward bundle with my chainmail and gambeson on his shoulders.
"Endure it." I grinned and added, "My hands need to be free, so if anything happens, I can save you in time."
"That's true..." The boy sighed heavily and walked alongside.
I barely held back from rolling my eyes. He didn't even realize that I was just teasing him a bit.
No matter how large and grand the locals considered Tries to be, it wouldn't seem so to an earthling. A population of about a hundred thousand was indeed huge by Ain's standards, but Tries clearly fell short of Deytran with its almost half a million, let alone any major earthly city. If one wanted, one could easily cross it from end to end in less than an hour. And although Aun's house was located in the northern part of Tries, that is, in a different district than the inn where I stayed, we reached it in just over twenty minutes.
The house the young man had inherited did not stand out from the others that stretched along both sides of a fairly wide street paved with white stone. It was immediately clear to me, as to an outsider, that all the houses here followed a specific urban plan. All approximately two stories high, each building was at an equal distance from the roadway. All facades were of the same color, which also spoke of some standardization. Almost every house had a shop, a little store, or a snack bar on the first floor, and people lived on the second. But Aun's house differed slightly from the rest: there was no shop on its first floor. Instead, it was entirely cluttered with now empty shelves and boxes.
"My father used our home as a trading warehouse," the boy explained, as if embarrassed. "Over there is the exit to the inner courtyard, and the toilet is there too." He waved his hand. "And this is the staircase to the second floor."
Having unloaded my stuff, I quickly looked around the house. Indeed, almost the entire first floor was given over to a now vacant warehouse. The second floor housed four bedrooms and an open veranda leading to a balcony, which seemed to serve as both a living room and dining room. The courtyard, which Aun mentioned, was indeed very small, ten steps in one direction and six in the other, with a miniature drinking water fountain in the center. There was also a hearth for cooking and the mentioned by the youth countryside-style restroom. Having inspected all the rooms, I chose the largest one and quickly thought about what rearrangement should be made in it, then called for Aun.
"We need to move the bed to the corner and then bring another one from the neighboring room and place it here - by the window."
"Why?" The boy didn't understand me at first, but then his eyes widened, "Are we going to sleep in the same room?"
"We will," my lips involuntarily curled into a smirk, "but on different beds."
"Ah!.." He seemed to want to argue at first, but then it dawned on him, "I get it! It'll be easier for you to protect me this way."
Without commenting on the obvious, I started rearranging the room. The interior doors in the house were made quite well, and the hardened brick walls also seemed reasonably sturdy. But the window, through which a person could easily pass without bending much, especially since it leads to the street, caused some concern. I blocked it with the second bed, where I intended to sleep myself.
The first rearrangement didn't satisfy me, nor did the second. After some thought, I brought a rather hefty desk into our future bedroom, planning to block the door with it at night. As I moved the desk, I noticed that Aun was becoming increasingly nervous.
"Hey!" I stopped, "What's the matter? If you're uncomfortable with something, or if you've noticed something, don't keep it to yourself - speak up immediately! Do you understand?"
"I do," the boy nodded, continuing to remain silent.
"If you understand, then explain why you're so restless?"
"Well, it's not that important," the boy blushed in response.
"Speak!"
"By this time, your clothes at aunt Zian's shop should be ready," he blurted out, then quickly added, "But we can drop by there later."
"Do you think that if we go there before sunset, you'll see your beloved?"
"Well..." The boy blushed deeply and turned away.
Having looked over the rearranged room, I was generally pleased, so I slapped Aun on the shoulder and pushed him towards the door.
"Let's go; we'll wash up and visit your 'aunt'."
"Yeah!!" The boy practically bloomed and dashed out of the bedroom.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Ah, youth! I was just like that at sixteen. Barely hiding a smile, I spent about three minutes watching the boy fussing and fixing his hair, then shoved him out onto the street.
On the way to the market square, I asked the boy to tell me more about the city walls, guiding him with my questions to describe the Seventh and Eighth city towers. I was planning to search for the true Shadow altar this night or possibly late evening - when the Night Sister has fully risen above the horizon, and any information about the place where this altar is located would be helpful. Unless, of course, the thief had deceived me, sending me on a false trail. But I didn't want to think about such a turn of events, and in any case, I had to verify what the precious rank thief had said.
This time, we approached Madam Zian's shop from a different side, thus bypassing the market square, which was particularly lively at this time. Before entering, Aun shook himself off, smoothed his clothes, and, pulling the door sharply towards him, stepped forward with a swift motion.
I followed the youth inside. Unlike the last visit, there were no other customers in the shop now, and two women sat behind the counter. One, already elderly, in grey, unremarkable clothes, was embroidering something. The other, quite young, with her hair braided into numerous plaits, clothed in a loose yellow dress, had been measuring a piece of fabric until our arrival. And now this young girl, having met Aun's gaze, froze like a salt statue.
Apparently, this was the very Alaya because the boy froze in place and began to blush profusely. To my taste, the girl was not particularly beautiful; I would even call her ordinary and would not give her a second glance if I met her on the street. But the way Aun looked at her, it was clear that he saw her differently. Although I must admit, the girl had an excellent figure, and her eyes were lively, sincere, and bright.
The awkward silence lasted almost a minute - until the shop owner, alerted by the entrance bell, appeared in the hall. As soon as she entered the room, she assessed the situation with a single glance. Sparks flashed in the eyes of this plump lady, and she, grabbing a piece of fabric from the counter, briskly swatted her daughter's lower back with it.
"Get out! Scram to your room! What are you doing, making eyes at others here!" The young girl squeaked in fright and immediately darted away like a trained sprinter, disappearing behind her mother. Only the quick patter of the girl's feet on the stairs reminded us that she had been in the salesroom. "And as for you, my boy..." The lady turned her whole body toward Aun but then noticed me, and her face immediately smoothed out, a customary polite smile appearing on it. "Master Raven! You are just in time! Your order is ready." She walked up to me and took my arm, then turned to Aun and added sympathetically, "I'll have a word with you, my boy, later... Later..." She again shifted her attention to me, "Master Raven, allow me to take you to the fitting room."
Even with the help of magic and measurements taken by Illusion, it is impossible to tailor a set of clothes from scratch in such a short time. Therefore, I entered the fitting room with a fair amount of skepticism, thinking that if nothing pinched or chafed, I would still take it. But everything turned out not to be so bad. Apparently, the shop already had some pre-made pieces, or they simply altered ready-made ones to fit me. But when I tried on the new clothes, I even liked them. It wasn't the usual attire of a merchant or a craftsman, as I had hinted, so as not to stand out too much in the city crowd, but, nevertheless, it fully satisfied my request. A set of travel clothes for a not-very-wealthy lord - that's what you could call it. Trousers and a shirt made of dense sailcloth, plus a light leather vest, as a sign of some status. Quite convenient, although I would have added pockets; still, there's no rush, and it can be done later. The colors of the shirt and trousers were grey-ash, not easily marred. And my orcish belt fitted this clothing as if it was made for them. I tried it on, turned a couple of times in front of the mirror, then squatted, after which I swiftly spun around my axis.
"Aun said you're a warrior," Madam Zian replied to my sharp movements with the smile of a professional who knew her worth. "And I can make clothes that even the most fastidious fighters will be satisfied with."
Her look, in which a fair amount of arrogance flashed, somehow struck a chord with me, and I asked:
"Really?"
"The clothes aren't for combat, but they can endure a lot! You can easily do your warm-up in them!" There was so much confidence in her tone that it had turned into haughtiness.
"Shall I test it?" Evaluating the size of the fitting room, I asked with a skeptical smile.
"As much as you like!" The shopkeeper replied, arrogantly tilting her chin and folding her arms across her chest.
I had no intention of making sharp movements specifically to tear the clothes; no, I really just wanted to test her words. A few exercises showed that the fabric stretched and was quite loose in the necessary places, and the seams were very sturdy. However, I still noticed one weak spot that I wouldn't have paid attention to if not for Madam Zian's excessive bravado. Having finished my warm-up kata under her smile, I slowly started to do the splits. And the wider my legs spread, the more skeptical the shopkeeper's expression became.
Local martial schools, both Western and Eastern, rarely utilize kicks above the waist. Hence, fighters have minimal need for flexibility, and most of them are unfamiliar with such a standard gymnastic exercise as the splits. When there was roughly a palm's distance between my groin and the fitting room floor, the trousers couldn't bear it anymore and, with a sharp crack, split along the seam.
"Ahem," Madam Zian cleared her suddenly dry throat.
"I didn't make any sudden movements." Standing up, I inspected the tear and smugly turned up my nose as payback for her recent arrogance.
"You..." Flushed like a lobster, Madam Zian took a while to find her words, but eventually, she did, "You're surprisingly flexible."
I could have said that I'm a gymnast, but she wouldn't understand. In Ain, there's no concept of professional sports except for racing and the fights in the Arena. Therefore, I just shrugged melancholically and said:
"I have some skills."
But as flustered as the shopkeeper seemed, she was still a master of her craft and quickly composed herself. Her face took on a detached, cold expression, and she asked me to do the splits again. When I had fully executed the move, Madam Zian signaled me to hold my position and circled me twice. After that, she stopped, and for a few moments, my body was marked with illusion magic markers. Then she gestured for me to stand.
"Take them off. I get it. Everything will be ready in a quarter of an hour. While you're waiting, Shadnasi will treat you to tea." Madam Zian waved her hand towards the exit from the fitting room.
The tea prepared by the elderly maid was good enough for me to take it as her deepest apologies.
"What happened between you two?" asked Aun in a whisper, his face pale, after taking a sip of the hot drink. "This is the first time I've seen auntie in such a cold fury. And this tea costs nearly a dozen gold for a small bag!"
"Nothing special," I shrugged, "the trousers just didn't fit quite right."
"What?" The boy didn't believe me. "How did they not fit? That never happens with auntie!"
"There's a first time for everything," I couldn't help but utter the obvious truth.
"With you?" The lad looked up at me over his cup, nodded to his thoughts, and added, "I believe it."
We didn't see Madam Zian again that day. Exactly a quarter of an hour later, the old maid brought out the ready clothes and once again offered me to try them on. Despite the fact that I was completely confident that everything was fixed, I still sat down in a split after the fitting. This time the trousers withstood the test with honor.
For a couple of silver, I bought a large bag right in the shop and put in it the lavish clothes gifted by Larindel, leaving myself dressed in the new outfit. In the meantime, Aun settled all the formalities with the maid, and we left the shop in complete silence.
"Ah!" As soon as we hit the street, the lad sighed heavily. "I better not show up here for a couple of days." He immediately added, "Until auntie Zian forgets the ruined trousers."
"I'm the one who ruined them. What does it have to do with you?" I tried to reassure the boy.
"I was with you," Aun explained as if I were some kind of contagion or disease. "So just to be safe..."
Truth be told, the lad didn't grieve for long. It wasn't a minute before his face smoothed out and, looking up at me with his clear eyes, he said:
"How about something sweet? My treat!"
Since I had no plans until sunset, I readily agreed. Not that I had a sweet tooth, but as they say, if it's free, why not?
Upon hearing my response, the young man immediately dragged me to the market square, and I quickly regretted my agreement. Crowds of people through which it was hard even to squeeze. In such a crush, anyone could stab Aun in the back and get away unnoticed. Stopping the lad, I hung my bag with the fancy clothes on his back, which slightly comforted me. Firstly, my hands were now completely free, and secondly, it provided some protection from behind.
However, my reassurance lasted only until I realized where the lad was dragging me. He was leading us, cutting through the entire crowd, to a stall already familiar to me, with each step making me more and more nervous. But, to my annoyance, at the moment, I couldn't find any reasons to suggest we go somewhere else.
Even before we approached the sweets stall, Aun yelled, drowning out the noise of the surrounding crowd.
"Grandpa Vu Yuan!" The boy waved his arms. "We'll have two caramel roosters and a couple of your famous honey sticks!"
Looking as ancient as the hills, the candy vendor gazed up at us and smiled openly. And this smile sent a chill down my spine. Wait! I can't show that I'm afraid of him! I can't! The moment he thinks I know his secret, he'll strike me down here and now. He'll kill me right in this crowd, and none of the people around will understand why one of the city's guests suddenly died.
"Two roosters?" The old man squinted short-sightedly and asked the boy to confirm.
"Yes!" Aun nodded instantly. "And a couple of your famous honey sticks! It's been more than three years since I've tasted them! I've already forgotten their taste."
"Three years?" The stallkeeper creaked, looking intently at the boy's face.
Suddenly, something caught my attention. A vague, swift, and dangerous movement somewhere behind. With the maximum speed available to me, I exploded, sharply turning and extending my hand forward. I exploded and realized: "I won't make it!"
But before something shiny slashed across the boy's back, before my palm had time to pull him away from the danger, dry hands, wrinkled like branches of a century-old willow, twined around the boy and yanked him forward.
"Oh! Aun, son of Lyao?! Is that you?!" Pulling the boy to him, the ancient candy vendor lifted him above the cobblestones and shook him like a plush toy, after which he put him back on the solid surface and said, "You were just like this yesterday!" His palm indicated a height up to his knee. The old man clicked his tongue and, shaking his head, literally fell onto a folding chair, lamenting, "How time flies. How it flies... Aun, is it? How's your father? He hasn't visited me for a while."
"He's gone..." Aun's smile instantly disappeared from his face. "It's been almost a week since he's gone."
"Everyone leaves." The old man reacted philosophically grimly and patted the boy on the shoulder. "And we will go. But in our own time. And don't you dare try to bring that time closer!" The candy vendor shifted his gaze to me, and I noticed some disappointment in it - as if he were dissatisfied with me. "That'll be twenty coppers from you."
"But my order costs more!" The boy tried to object.
"Don't argue with your elders!" The stall owner immediately sprang up, abruptly rising from the chair, but instantly doubled over and groaned, "My back!"
It was played so naturally and authentically that I even believed it. For a moment, but I did. Until I saw the sign of the Mithril Core on this old man again.
"Don't argue!" Handing the order directly into Aun's hands, the stall owner creaked as he straightened up and patted the boy on the cheek. "Take care of yourself and remember, your father promised that he would buy sweets for your wedding at my stall! And don't you forget that!"
"I didn't know about this promise." Aun squeaked uncertainly in response.
"Now you know! Or do you think old Vu Yuan would lie over such a trivial matter?!" He even gets angry naturally, as if he's genuinely upset.
To be honest, I'm amazed by this brilliant theatrical performance of a Mithril Rank master. Playing the helplessness of old age so naturally - you have to be talented! Or, over many decades, he has so thoroughly immersed himself in this persona that it has become like a second skin to him, if not closer.
"No, what are you talking about..." Aun waved his hands. "I believe you, and I'll remember!"
"There you go!" The old man clicked his tongue and waved his hand. "Now shoo, shoo, you've bought what you wanted! Don't get in the way of other customers."
As soon as we stepped a dozen paces away from the candy stall, I turned Aun around so his back was facing me.
It wasn't my imagination!
The bag just bought at aunt Zian's store, recently perfectly intact, now boasted a large, palm-sized, very neat deep cut. I estimate the target of the attack with one look.
Oh boy...
If it weren't for the old shopkeeper, who so timely yanked Aun towards him, the boy would be dead by now. And the most annoying part is that I didn't even get a glimpse of the attacker. I didn't see him, only reacting to the shadow of movement. Man or woman? Old or young? Who was the one who made this cowardly attack? I don't know.
"Let's go home," I nudge the boy in the back, trying to get out of the crowd as quickly as possible.
"But I wanted to…"
"Home, it's time we headed back," I bend down to the boy's ear and whisper, "Check that Sign you showed me recently."
"What?!" The unfinished candy falls from his hand onto the pavement. "The fourth time? But when? I didn't notice anything at all!!!"
"That's exactly why we need to go home."
This time, Aun didn't object.