Two days after departing Zentril, the fire crackled and spat embers into the sky as Lusya watched Ariya finish her evening meal. Nights were getting colder, but the fire bathed the area in a comfortable warmth. Ariya chewed her last piece of meat with a loud flapping sound before swallowing and taking a swig of water. She let out a contented sigh and leaned against the tree behind her.
“Your cooking is getting really good, Lusya,” she said, rubbing her belly.
“Such is the nature of practice,” Lusya said.
She would not deny her skills had been subpar at the start. That was to be expected. She had had very little cooking experience before. These days they were adequate. “Really good,” seemed to be overstating it, but the improvement was large. Then again, Lusya might not have been the best judge. Her food preferences had never been strong. Just as others might have found food she deemed average worse than her, they may also have found it better.
She was still mostly drawing on the same cookbook, Elberto’s. It was her execution that had improved more than anything. She had a better sense for eyeballing measurements and estimating vague measurements like “a pinch,” though she remained unsure why the author did not simply use more precise units in those cases, especially since they did elsewhere. She knew how long ingredients took to cook and how they interacted to influence flavor and texture. A few times, she had even adjusted a recipe to account for Ariya’s preferences by changing the amounts or proportions of certain ingredients.
None of those were skills Lusya would have sought out, and she maintained that she did not think they were necessary. She and Ariya should have been fine subsisting on preserved goods alone. Still, since Lusya’s hand had been forced, she supposed it wasn’t a bad thing that she had picked up some new abilities. Those skills might never be useful again once Ariya was gone, but maybe life would surprise her, and Lusya couldn’t complain about being able to do more things, nor about eating admittedly better tasting food. It might have used up money and effort, but it ultimately used little time, which was the most important resource in question. They weren’t on a strict time limit—she was sure Father would have told her if they were—but the longer they took, the more likely they were to end up in a situation that would lead to failure. And that aside, Lusya wanted to finish this as quickly as possible.
Ariya nodded and stared at the dancing flames, perhaps for lack of other stimulation. “Where are we going next? Another cool city? I think I like cities. They’re fun.”
“No,” Lusya said with a shake of her head. “It will be some time before we visit another proper city. The largest settlements in the Elzen Valley are still towns.”
“Towns are still cool,” Ariya replied. “Is there anything cool in the valley?”
“I do not know,” Lusya said. “I did not research tourism, nor would it influence our route if I had.”
Ariya groaned. “I know. But if we were close by anyway, it wouldn’t hurt, right?”
“We should avoid unnecessary delay,” Lusya said. “If we stop near something that catches your interest, we may see it. Otherwise, we will pay such things no mind.”
If all went according to plan, it wouldn’t be time for another break until after they were out of the valley. So, they would only be able to enjoy any attractions if they were close enough to do so while staying the night in a town. Of course, delays due to weather and such were still possible even if nothing went horribly wrong, but she hoped they would be brief if they did occur.
“Yes, Lusya,” Ariya more grumbled than said.
Lusya had selected the Elzen Valley route in order to avoid the reltus-dominated nations that occupied much of the area west of Ketslind until one reached nearer to the coast or far enough north. By traveling through the valley and going west afterward, Lusya could spend the rest of the journey in northern human countries. Despite their proximity to relti-dominated countries, such regions were largely rural, giving non-locals little reason to move there and maintaining a vast human majority. What cities there were might have a larger reltus population than most human cities, but not by enough to be more dangerous than Zentril.
Of course, this course was not without its demerits. The valley ran almost perfectly north to south, for instance, meaning going through it and then heading west would be slower than continuing northwest. Then there was the issue of movement. The Elzen Valley was a wide one. Well over a dozen miles separated the twin mountain ranges that formed it, and that did allow for some flexibility. Still, it was a restriction. Less room to move and fewer options on where to go, unless she was willing to cross the mountains, an option that was inconvenient—but doable—for her, but likely to be taxing on Ariya. In the event of a confrontation or pursuit, that would be disadvantageous. Still, Lusya believed those were better risks to take than surrounding herself with the people most likely to realize what she was. She could probably get out of that situation, but it would likely involve more violence than she was willing to bet Ariya could handle.
There had also been the option of heading north earlier to circumvent the valley, but she had decided against it. Zentril had been a good place to restock, and she would have had to backtrack to avoid the valley after stopping there. Then there was the issue of when to head north, to which there had been no good answers. Too early and it would add too much time. A bit later and there was a Grand Stronghold to the north. Later still, and there was little point in avoiding the valley. Her movement would still be restricted, with the valley on one side and lost progress on the other.
Not to mention that the obstacle of the mountains could work to her benefit as well. She did not think there was any active pursuit of her ongoing. Or rather, if there was, she didn’t think they knew who they were looking for. She was sure someone was looking for Kadel’s killer, for instance, but Lusya probably would have noticed if she was being chased or if anyone was searching for her specifically. She would have seen posters or some fool would have gotten himself killed confronting her by now. Still, it did not hurt to be cautious. If there were any enemies, it would be easier to predict and keep track of their movements and react accordingly in the valley. And, if worst came to worst, the mountains could hinder them as well.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I’ve been thinking about that play,” Ariya said without warning.
Lusya blinked. “I see.”
Ariya nodded, though Lusya was not sure at what. Her own thoughts, maybe. “Isn’t it kind of similar to My Knight Academy?”
“I do not think so,” Lusya said.
My Knight Academy was the novel they were working through at the moment. It told the story of a young man with almost no motomancy ability working his way through the Sacred Knight Academy in a bid to become First Paladin. Lusya had been apprehensive of a novel with such a premise, both because of the subject matter and the absurdity of it, but she was able to divorce it from reality enough to enjoy it. Of course, they only had volume one of twenty at the moment, so it would be some time before they reached the conclusion. It was all but certain the protagonist would achieve his goal, but seeing how it happened was still interesting. Such an untalented person reaching such heights might have been borderline impossible in reality, but it did make for a compelling narrative.
She could not say there was no common thread between the two, but she did not regard it as particularly similar to The King’s Lament. The plots, subject matter, and tones were completely different.
“They’re both about underdog heroes in love,” Ariya said.
“Romance is not a focus of Knight Academy,” Lusya replied.
“But it’s there.”
That was true. The protagonist had a crush on the current First Paladin’s daughter who was also attending the academy. Within the context of the story, that was. Elphrid Blackstone had no children as far as Lusya knew, and the First Paladin depicted was a fictitious hybrid of him and Gerad Verbum. There were also hints that the daughter admired the protagonist’s courage, though she was thus far mostly hostile toward him.
However, that was simply a means to flesh out the characters and drive their individual developments. Romance was not the point, and said daughter was only marginally more prominent than the numerous other side characters.
“Plus there’s a good guy who turns out to be bad,” Ariya said.
“The king is an antagonist, if not a villain, from the start,” Lusya said. “It is not the same as the governor.”
The governor of Seris was an ally of the protagonist who turned on him after discovering some dark secret which had yet to be revealed to the reader. Unlike the king in the play, the governor was portrayed as reluctant and remorseful in his betrayal, his earlier allegiance genuine.
“But what about the mean guy who also likes the girl?” Ariya pressed.
“They also have few similarities,” Lusya said.
There was a rival character who also had eyes for the Paladin’s daughter in Knight Academy. He was a prodigy from a noble house, but his role in the story was quite different from the noble’s son in the play. The latter was presented as an obstacle to the leads’ romance, while the former was a competitor to the protagonist who also happened to be interested in the same woman, merely another wrinkle in their rivalry.
For that matter, the noble’s son in The King’s Lament was, while a major character, the least important of the central cast. The rival in the book was second only to the protagonist in prominence. In fact, Lusya often got the sense the author liked him more.
“I think they’re similar,” Ariya said, crossing her arms. She huffed. “You’re just being contrarian.”
“If you did not want my opinion, you should not have asked me,” Lusya replied. “There are similarities, but they are elements common to a great many stories. It is not impossible that the playwright was influenced by the novel, but it is impossible to say from what we have seen.”
Ariya frowned. “You don’t have to get upset. I didn’t mean anything by it…”
Lusya cocked her head and blinked twice. “I am not upset. I am rarely upset.”
“If you say so,” Ariya said. She pursed her lips. “I guess you’re right, anyway. There are a lot of stories with those things in them…”
“I know I am correct.”
Ariya huffed and went silent for a moment, staring at the fire.
“If there’s an almost-naked dragon-lady, you have to admit I’m right and say you’re sorry,” Ariya said.
Lusya blinked and nodded. “I will agree to that.”
That was not unheard of, but it was not common either. Knight Academy was quite popular at the moment. It had been translated into every major language spoken on Ysuge, and there was at least one volume in every bookstore. Lusya had been seeing it for a while before deciding to pick it up. That was without mentioning the number of installments. As far as books went, it had achieved a level of success most could only dream of. So, although there were other possible explanations, including mere coincidence, it did seem rather likely the play may have taken cues from the novel if such a character appeared. That did not mean the other elements were taken from the book, though. For that matter, Lusya didn’t much care if they were. All stories built on each other. As long as they weren’t carbon copies of each other, she didn’t see it as particularly interesting in and of itself, though there may have been interesting conversations to be had on the subject.
“So, can we read some more?” Ariya asked, grinning as she bounced with excitement. They had already read a bit before the evening meal.
“Tomorrow,” Lusya said. “It is time for sleep now.”
Ariya sighed and settled down. “Okay.”
After watching the fire for another moment, she stood and started toward the tent. However, she did not head straight for it. When she had moved to the edge of Lusya’s peripheral vision, she veered off course, instead aiming for Lusya’s pack on the ground nearby. However, Ariya did not do much to obscure her path. Seemingly assuming Lusya wouldn’t notice, she was oblivious to Lusya turning to watch her. Of course, even if she hadn’t seen, Lusya would have known. She knew where things were in the camp, and sensing Ariya was as natural as breathing.
“What are you doing, child?” Lusya asked, though she was confident she knew the answer.
Just as she had reached within arm’s reach of the pack, Ariya jumped and slowly turned to face Lusya. Squirming as if her clothes were filled with insects, Ariya averted her eyes.
“N-nothing,” she said with a nervous smile exaggerated in an attempt to appear innocent.
Lusya cocked her head a bit. “Do not take a book without my permission.”
“Yes, Lusya,” Ariya replied before glancing at the pack again.
“If you do, I will burn it with Miudofay,” Lusya said. She would probably buy another copy later to finish on her own, but Ariya did not need to know that.
Ariya sighed. “Yes, Lusya. I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology,” Lusya replied. “Now, go to bed.”
Ariya nodded but hesitated before moving. “Can I come closer first?”
Lusya blinked twice as she tilted her head. “You may, but what for?
Without another word, Ariya made her way around the fire to Lusya and wrapped her arms around Lusya in a hug.
“Good night, Lusya,” Ariya said.
She released Lusya and skipped to the tent. Lusya was unsure what had prompted that. Displays of affection from Ariya happened, but they tended to be reserved for big moments. Lusya did not know if her not returning them had anything to do with that, but she had never been one for such gestures. She would have least expected to receive one right after a scolding.
As long as Ariya’s Malice remained stable, she supposed it didn’t matter. The same went for what had just happened. Lusya could not deny she was curious, but Ariya was already in the tent, and Lusya did not want to interfere with proper rest.