Felt laughed aloud, leaning back in her rickety chair and throwing her arms up in the air above her head, her fingers closed together to mimic the motion Ford had made earlier. “Dragon’s Breath! What a terrible name for a spell! Did that lady really think you’d actually do anything with that? I thought she was kind of innocent-looking, but I didn’t know she was dumb!”
Ford was quieter, holding his open hand up to his view, his palm facing him as he frowned. “I just said the words without really thinking, but it felt like something was supposed to happen. Is it possible to remember words but not their meanings?”
Rom, who had been tending to the counter as usual despite a total lack of customers, scratched the back of his head as he hummed in thought. “Others with your condition have never had much issue with speaking, so language may be something different than memory. You said that you recognized the insignia, didn’t you?”
Ford looked down at the table, where the jewelled ornament sat near Felt’s reach, just in case she needed to grab it again. “I didn’t say I knew the symbol, I said I felt like I must not have liked dragons. It gives me a bad feeling, for some reason.”
“I can’t imagine why, there’s none of the big scary dragons of the past left, just the ground dragons used for carriages.” Felt said, crossing her arms and whistling, her feet kicking under the table to rock her chair on the back legs. “It’s said that the Divine Dragon eradicated the evil dragons who would attack people back in the days before Lugnica.” She frowned, narrowing her eyes and humming. “Er, something like that. I never really cared about a 1,000-year-old myth. Tales of old legends don’t really mean a whole lot when you’re always hungry, you know?”
“No one should be able to say that with a straight face.” Ford stated, and the girl shrugged, tilting her head with a thoughtful expression on her face.
“The thing is, the only people who can change it are the ones who don’t care. No point being depressed all the time if you don’t have the power to do anything.”
“Don’t be so sure if you’ve never tried.” came Rom’s raspy voice, the giant moving to set cups down in front of the two, before he reached to hold the tiny insignia in his large fingers, a deep hum in his throat as he looked it over. “This might be a little too valuable for you, Felt. It would be dangerous walking around with the money you could get for it.”
The thief blinked, sitting up straight and turning to face him, a beaming grin on her face. “I thought it looked valuable, how much do you think it is? The client said they were willing to pay high if they needed to!”
The old man narrowed his eyes, before handing the accessory to Ford and crossing his arms before speaking again. “The silver’s nothing special, but the craftsmanship is excellent and the gemstone has magic in it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it fetched 20 holy coins.”
Felt’s eyes lit up at the statement, and she laughed, pumping her fist in the air. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that much at once! I might even be able to buy a house with that!” She stood up, twirling on her feet with her arms out to either side. “Can you imagine? Actually living outside this place? Of course, I’ll let you live there too, Old Man Rom!” She turned to face Ford for a moment, before continuing her dancing. “You can stay too, but you’ve got to get a job.”
The boy smiled at the statement, though it was brief as he looked back down at the insignia, running his thumb across the front to feel the details in the molded shape. “Who was that elf girl, anyway? It seemed like people were avoiding her.”
“Hmph, I made a promise that I’d never go back into the city’s heart.” Rom said, before raising an eyebrow. “Hah? You don’t know about half-elves? One of the most well-known legends around?”
Ford blinked, before tapping the side of his head, and the giant nodded in understanding. “Right, your memory. Half-elves, specifically those with silver hair, are considered bad luck. They’re believed to be the possible resurrections of a disastrous figure that used to run around 400 years ago called the Witch of Envy. Unlike the Divine Dragon, there’s a lot of proof that that monster really did exist.”
“The Witch of Envy…” Ford said, musing over the statement. “That’s an ominous name. What did she do that was so bad that people still get affected by it? 400 years is a long time.”
Rom’s explanation was cut off by a knock on the door, and he grunted, his attention switched as he called out. “For a rat-”
He wasn’t able to finish his signal before the door was burst forward, the hinges creaking as the doorknob slammed into the wall, and a woman dressed in a tight-fitting purple dress slinked in, her feet moving from side to side as she peered between the three with a slight smile on her face. “For a rat, poison. Was I correct?” she asked, her voice low, and Felt stopped her dancing, turning to face her as Ford closed his hand to hide the insignia, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the woman.
Rom was less reserved in his reaction, gritting his teeth and slamming his hand on the table as he shouted at her. “Oi, don’t go barging into places! I can’t do much if you knew the signal, but I still have a reputation to uphold!”
“It’s fine, Old Man Rom!” Felt said, grinning as she held her hand up in a brief salute, bending forward to look at the woman. “It’s the client! Come on in, we got the thing you wanted!”
The woman hummed, before accepting the invitation and stepping inside, her eyes trailing on Ford as she pulled out the chair next to him with a flourish of her arms before seating herself. “Hm, I was told you might be here too. A teenage boy with short black hair and ‘creepy eyes’...You don’t have the hair, but you certainly fit the atmosphere. A smart man would dye his hair, indeed. You must be Subaru.”
Ford blinked, narrowing his eyes at the statement, but he said nothing in response. Wracking his brain was useless, but was this someone he knew? If Subaru was his name, then-
“Who’s that?” Felt asked, frowning as she held her hand up to shade her eyes and leaned forward. “Ford’s Ford, I don’t know any Subarus.”
A small smile flashed on the woman’s face, her tongue trailing on her lips as she looked him over with a gaze that betrayed a less than innocent interest in something she was seeing, and for several moments, Ford sat uncomfortably under the stare, before it faded as she looked away. “Then Ford it is. I am Elsa Granhiert, here to collect on behalf of the client.”
“I don’t trust her.” Ford blurted, the statement completely unfiltered before he blinked, his hand raising to cover his mouth. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
Felt gave a hearty laugh as she sat down, holding her hand out with her palm up to him. “Do you think anyone making deals with thieves is going to be a good person? I can count several people I’ve dealt with that were creepier than her.”
“How rude, I must be at least evil enough to be in the top ten.” Elsa mused, watching as Ford moved his hand over Felt’s to drop the insignia, which flashed in the light as she held it up in two fingers. “How pretty, I can see why he is willing to part with so much for it.”
“I don’t want to hear any lowballing, I know what it’s worth.” Felt stated, closing the pin in her fist. “20 holy coins.”
Going with the highest possible price right at the start. Ford considered saying something, but he had to remember that Felt wasn’t just a kid. She knew what she was doing, and with Rom in arm’s reach, she had the leverage to be bold. Still, the look that passed in Elsa’s eyes made him hesitate in his silence. Felt had claimed it was normal for people like this to exist, and he was well aware that this wasn’t a legal transaction, but something felt off about her. She was dangerous, whoever she was.
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“That’s quite a lot, do you have a reason for claiming that little thing is worth so much?” the woman asked, her fingers tapping on the table as her other hand moved to her waist. “I can agree that it is worth on the order of holy coins, but it is only silver. Five is more suitable.”
“No matter what it’s made of, it was troublesome to get. Ford almost got killed by that silver-haired half-elf’s magic. Five coins isn’t worth that risk if I can sell it for more to someone else.” Felt stated, smirking and crossing her arms while puffing out her chest in a show of confidence. “And it was an explicitly described item. I don’t go cheap on requests, it’s not like I’m pawning it off.”
Elsa was quiet for a moment, leaving the room in a lull of silence before speaking again. “Do you have a Divine Protection, little girl?”
The sudden question caused Felt to lean back in her seat, a hiss in her throat as Ford reached to take the insignia, holding it in his hand farther from Elsa’s reach. “That’s a very personal question, isn’t it?” he asked. Of course, he had no idea what a Divine Protection was, or if they were unusual, but from how Felt reacted, it didn’t seem like a comfortable topic to bring up on the negotiating table.
Elsa slowly shook her head, rising up out of her seat with one hand on the back of her hip and the other tapping her bottom lip, a devious grin on her face. “I suppose neither of you noticed, but I was there when you carried out the theft. You seemed to have control of the situation, you could have run on ahead with that wind of yours and caught him if he was actually in danger. The half-devil was hardly a real threat.”
Felt faltered at the statement, a frown on her face as she responded with a slight tremble in her voice. “W-Well, I was not informed that she is a Spirit Arts user, only to expect Huma! Ford is one thing, but your client knows I don’t have magic, so that was an unnecessary risk I wasn’t told about!”
“That isn’t something I could have predicted. I’m only here as an intermediary. A thief can hardly argue against the character of someone she does business with.”
The exchange went back and forth as Ford’s attention started to waver, his eyes moving to look around as he tapped his fingers idly on the table. He was of little use here, with no concept of how much a holy coin was even worth and what the insignia was made of, so whatever he said could potentially hurt Felt’s chances. His mind wandered to the brief battle with the half-elf, thinking about the magic she had used. He didn’t know about Huma besides that it was a form of ice magic, but he hadn’t been surprised at all to see the furry creature appearing from thin air and speaking. He couldn’t recall why, but something about the ‘Spirit Arts’ was recognizable.
He had been too familiar with battle, had gone too naturally into a combat stance against Emilia to just be a random bystander. Whoever he was, he had experience, and based on Felt’s reaction to his not remembering her, she likely knew something she didn’t want to say. He trusted her, but something must have happened just before his memories were taken away.
“Isn’t that right, Ford?” Felt asked, and he snapped back to reality, blinking a few times as he looked between the two before nodding instinctively, earning a low chuckle from the strange woman as Felt sighed, holding her hand to her forehead.
“You weren’t paying attention at all! I was telling her about how you were guarding this place against that Cultist, she won’t believe me that you were falsely accused! You even took this off that guy!” The girl reached to her side, where she held a thin dagger wrapped in fabric that she detached from her belt to hand to him. “She’s trying to drive the price down just because you had this!”
Ford stared at the weapon, confused as he accepted it before undoing the poorly-wrapped covering to hold the dagger up into view. It was strangely designed for a weapon, with a wider tip than base and a bright pink coloration on the flat faces of the metal, and even knowing nothing about its origin, it certainly had a distinct appearance and likely some sort of ritual meaning. Even simply touching the handle gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach, and his free hand moved to his forehead, where he felt cold beads of sweat on his skin. It was just an unusual dagger, but he could see that whoever the previous owner was, they had not been picky on who felt the cutting edge.
“Even possessing that is enough to be put on trial for treason.” Elsa stated with a low purr in her voice, eyeing the blade with narrowed eyes. “Whether you are Subaru or not and no matter if you’re the original owner, you must be the most dangerous man in this room.” Her gaze trailed across the room to Rom, who blinked and gripped the handle of his club from where he stood. “Hmm…”
“It’s not mine, I just took it.” Ford replied, his grip loosening on the handle as he idly waved it up and down, careful not to point it at any of the people in the room. The bad feeling remained, and once again he felt anxious under the scrutinizing look Elsa gave him. “I’m not connected to the Cult.”
The woman sighed, pressing her hand against the table to push her chair back and allow herself to stand, her hand resting on the curve of her hip. “Of course not, I was simply warning you. I admit, I had expected you to be a better liar.”
Ford noticed the smooth and carefully calibrated tone of her voice, and the tip of her tongue ran along the edge of her lip as her eyes took on a glint, but as he was about to question the statement, a flash shone in front of her, a metallic schwing in the air as her arm appeared, raised to the side with her hand holding a wickedly curved purple knife horizontally, her expression morphed as a hollow grin split her face.
“What-” Ford choked out, before his eyes widened as his hand went to his stomach, lowering his head to raise his palm to view.
His hand was stained dark with a warm red liquid, and his fingers started to shake involuntarily as he fell backwards out of his seat, clutching his torso as his eyes went wide and his mouth twisted into an O, and with his loose grip, the cultist’s dagger skittered across the floor out of reach. In the distance, Felt’s voice called out, and the sound of splitting wood signalled that Rom had responded instantly. Ford’s vision momentarily filled with the tattered tunic on the giant’s back, his club raised high before he was flung to the side, the woman standing in the same spot as blood spurted from Rom’s chest, his eyes and mouth wide with surprise as he broke another table with his fall.
Ford’s ears rang as his head pounded with every biological alarm his brain could muster, his eyes rolling up as his senses became limited to the vibrations on the floor under his head. He didn’t need to see or hear what was going on to realize what had happened. Elsa hadn’t come to peacefully negotiate at all, she must have been an assassin.
Something hit the ground next to him, and he slowly turned his head to face it, only to find a twisted look of horror frozen on Felt’s face as the green light of her Divine Protection faded, before her hair was grabbed and lifted by the woman, who turned to him and knelt to give a satisfied grin, her sultry voice cutting through the haze in his head as he noticed Emilia standing behind her, a look of shock on the elf’s face.
“What are the chances, Subaru? That two assassins would be after the same target.”
Ford moved his hand in an effort to warn the silver-haired girl, but he was too late as Elsa spun around, sending the girl crumbling to the ground, her stomach torn open by the kukri knife as Felt’s body was thrown at Rom, who had made his way back to his feet despite his injury but now tumbled with a thud onto the hardwood floor.
The badge came rolling on its edge in front of him, the red jewel glittering in the light and cruelly reminding him that such a tiny thing had caused all this, and he grit his teeth together, groaning as he fought against the pain to roll onto his side, his knee planting on the ground to drag himself to a kneeling position.
He felt a heavy pounding in his skull, a loud thumping that manifested in a horrid nausea as he reached for the dagger lying on the ground, before his eyes widened as his hands moved to the sides of his head, and he could feel rather than hear his own scream as his head was assaulted with random flashes of color and sounds, jumbled together and smashing into his thoughts like a dive-bombing dragon and sending him back to the ground, the pain in his split-open belly irrelevant against the violent backdrop of faces and places he didn’t recognize hitting him all at once.
His forehead hurt as he slammed it hard into the floor, his vision briefly blacking out before jolting back into the incomprehensible imagery, and he coughed, splattering a mixture of blood and drool onto the wood beneath him. His vision had become blurry as his eyes welled with tears, barely enough to see the vague form of the mercenary step closer.
The warm comfort of the earlier peace was gone now, replaced with a chill that stabbed deep into his bones, the room filling with a freezing mist as Elsa raised her foot in preparation to bring her stiletto down onto his head.
The purple on her clothing slowly bleached away into a white powder as her skin rapidly grew a pale blue, her movement slowing to a crawl before she crumbled to the ground, the sharp sound of cracking crystal echoing in the room as an ethereal voice dominated his senses, forcing away the chaotic mess with the power behind its words.
“You lead Lia here. This was your fault.”
He had no response, but the voice helped to soothe his cries as he went quiet, letting the mist wash over him as the noises slowly faded into nothingness, his eyes closing as the fissures developing in his body split into chunks of solid ice.