Journal Entry #3
The funeral for Petter was today. I… I couldn’t stop crying. His coffin we presented to Pastor Elm was so tiny that we could barely each place a hand on it to say our last prayer before Pastor Elm took it beneath the church to begin the gruesome task of turning Petter’s remains into compost.
I sat alone in the church afterwards, wracked with guilt as I kept sobbing. The only reason he wasn’t safe inside the village was because he went out looking for me.
Dad came by later to try and console me, handing me a shiny new flask, and telling me that Petter helped pick it out for my upcoming birthday. I took a pull, not caring that I was underage.
It burned the entire way down.
---
Arc
“Now, don’t forget that tomorrow’s the last day of morning drill. So, go have fun, but don’t go too wild. I don’t think you’ll want to be hungover.”
Travis nodded along, showing both signs of excitement and nervousness. After his final exam, he visibly debated for a solid minute if he wanted to go or not, but eventually strapped on his chest and back plate so he could mount his poleaxe.
“I’m starting to regret not reading more from that book on elves and dwarves.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, just be respectful to their culture, ask questions if you’re confused about something, and if something does make you uncomfortable, pull Thramreat or Durinn aside. Worst case scenario, they’ll find your ignorance tiring.”
Travis gave my pommel a scratch with a grin, then perked his head up as he continued walking towards the dwarven housing complex, “Do you hear that?”
I tried to pay more attention to the vibrations in the Air Mana, but my “patch” was picking up too much background noise, “No, I have a hard time making out sounds when I can’t see the source. Wind Mana is a tad too chaotic to reliably carry the same sound across a far distance.”
“Bet you can’t wait to leave the city, your range will be much farther now, right?”
“Should be, though I better tell you now before I forget, there’s a good chance my sword-brain will get overwhelmed from the sheer quantity of information. So, I might be a little sluggish the first couple of days.”
Our destination finally began to render in with my mana sight, but the concentrated mana was so dense that my vision’s range moved inches for every foot Travis progressed. Nevertheless, the trapezoid shaped building eventually came into view. Stone steps led to the rooftop on each of the corners, flat planes of glass made up the sides, allowing light to enter and get reflected into the tunnels below, and there were retractable Order-infused stone shutters that could bury into the ground between storms. For some reason however, they were partially covering the sides, leaving a crenelated opening near the rooftop and a few columns that were fully open to the night sky.
Travis stopped to stare, completely slack jawed, and rested his hand on my pommel, allowing him to share his senses.
Rhythmic thumping mixed with brass instruments, creating an industrial jazzy tune that penetrated deep into my bones, making my whole body shiver with excitement as bright multicolored lights flashed beneath the glass walls like a Vegas casino. Shirtless dwarves stood outside and on top the bunker, covered in neon glowing runes, holding glass mugs of beer, chatting the night away, and I even saw a pair of beardless dwarves stare at a bearded’s ass as they climbed the stairs before the connection faded out.
“Whoa… that vision lasted longer than the last one, and I even got to “hear” the music inside.”
Travis looked down at me briefly, before letting out a deep sigh.
“Something wrong?”
“It’s this whole ‘prayer’ thing… It made more sense to me oddly when we thought it was a blessing. Like, just now, I wasn’t thinking, ‘Blessed Arcane, impersonator of trees, allow me to act as your eyes and ears as we venture into this dwarven kegger.’” He slumped his shoulders, “I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking it? It just doesn’t feel like I’m actively doing anything to cause it.”
“Hmm… you know, I bet –"
My speculation was cut off by a beardless dwarf hollering out to Travis, “Oi! You ogling us human?”
Travis snapped his attention forward, and with a choking voice let out, “Sorry, was just umm… uh, enjoying the quiet before I stepped inside.”
The dwarf gave Travis a cock-eyed glance, turned their head to another beardless who shrugged their shoulders, then turned back to yell at Travis, this time with a more aggressive tone, “Get lost skull-basher. Drink your pond scum somewhere else.”
Travis gulped, looking very uncomfortable, which wasn’t too surprising since the sheltered kid had never experienced someone acting racist towards him before. I wasn’t going to leave him hanging though. I immediately casted a [Message] spell and had it follow behind my focus as I tried to quickly find Thramreat, hoping desperately that they were on the roof. Luckily only three of the dwarves up top were Lightning Mages, and two of them were bearded.
“Thramreat! Did you invite a human? There’s a kid with a halberd on his back trying to get in, but there’s a couple of beardless trying to shoo him off.”
The beardless dwarf went still for only a brief second, before moving in a blur through the crowd and towards the steps, leaping onto the handrail, then grinded down it like a professional skater before bouncing off the end and rushing towards Travis with arms raised, “Travis! You made it!”
Travis and the self-appointed bouncers all looked on in shock as the shirtless Thramreat slung their arm around Travis’ waist, giving his butt a slap, then urged him towards the steps past the guys harassing him.
They led Travis part way up the steps, before finally braving a look back to ensure the two were alone, then let out a deep exhale, “Rust, I’m sorry Travis. I should have given you a way to contact me or… something.” Another sigh escaped the beardless as we continued, “Just stick close to me. I’ll introduce you to some proper polished dwarves and keep the slag from clinging to ya.”
Travis, finally shaking off his startlement, gave Thramreat a shoulder pat, “It’s alright, I’m just glad you spotted me. I’m still pretty new to all of this, I never even met a dwarf before coming to this school, let alone gone to a dwarven party.
Thramreat smiled, “This is your first? Well, don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get the full experience.”
Travis returned a nervous smile of his own, “Umm, I can’t stay too long, exams might be done for me now, but I still have morning drill tomorrow.”
The Lightning Mage nodded along, “Alright, we’ll just stop for a drink at the bar before meeting up with Durinn and the others, then we’ll sneak down to the dance floor for a few songs.”
The two finished ascending the stairs as Travis assured Thramreat that he was fine with skipping out on the dancing, then moved through the crowd of barely clothed dwarves towards a makeshift stand made from ice chests.
“Two tunnel runners, no extras.” Thramreat ordered.
The bartender frowned but took the time to show each ingredient they added, slid the two drinks over, then once Thramreat turned away, silently pantomimed to Travis to return later.
Travis grinned as he took the offered drink, then mimicked Thramreat as they downed the contents in one go, crushed the glass into a tiny ball, then… popped it into their mouth? What the?
“Mmm… is this sugar glass?”
“Yep, gotta drink these fast, otherwise they start melting and get all sticky.”
Travis enjoyed the treat as he took in the ambience. A good portion of the crowd kept sneaking glances his way, which given that he was a head and shoulder above everyone on the roof, wasn’t too difficult of a task. Sadly, my “patch” still couldn’t decipher dwarvish yet, so I could only make out a few words here and there, but given the number of times I heard the words “Travis” and “poleaxe” spoken, it was easy enough to get the gist of what everyone was saying.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why is everyone half-naked and covered in bioluminescent paint?”
Thramreat scratched their head, “It’s an artificer tradition. I can’t remember off the top of my head exactly how it started, but I know back when artifice was in its infancy, one of the ways we prepared for battle with monsters was to take remnants of previous kills, mulch them up into a fine paste, then painted spell formations on our bodies to help assist with casting.”
Travis glanced down at Thramreat, giving their torso a thorough inspection, “So I’m guessing those runes on you mean something?”
“Yep, this big one translates roughly to academic artificer, since I earned my title by submitting a paper on using Wind Mana crystals to boost a Fire inscription’s potency. This one on my shoulder means lightning, the one on my back is my name…”
“What about that one on your neck?” Travis teased.
Thramreat nervously chuckled, and even I could tell, was clearly blushing, “Uh, that one’s Durinn’s name…”
Travis, moving swiftly to pounce on the exposed weakness, gave Thramreat’s shoulder a friendly nudge, “So… have you picked out your gift for Durinn yet?”
Thramreat started sputtering incoherent noises, before finally breaking eye contact, and waved at Travis to follow, “We should… uh… go meet the others. No point in dallying around here.”
Travis shook his head as he followed the dwarf through the crowd over towards one of the ledges.
“Careful, those guardrails are meant for dwarfs, not humans.”
He didn’t get the chance to reach one though, because Durinn sprinted from a nearby circle to give the teen a hug.
“Travis,” the topless dwarf nuzzled their beard into the teenager’s stomach, “you’re so soft. Why are you so soft?”
Travis and I both looked down at the clearly drug-induced glaze in Durinn’s eyes then towards Thramreat who was awkwardly combing their fingers through their messy long hair.
“So, uh… Durinn was having troubles relaxing, and uh…” They looked around, caught eyes with a bearded Wood Mage that was originally standing with Durinn, and waved them over, “Travis, this is Artificer Orebeck Bonebrow, just recently earned their title like me and Durinn, and will be joining us on the same research team as well once Durinn is… eh, feeling more like themself.”
Travis tried to raise his hand to greet the dwarf, but it got pulled down by Durinn, bringing Travis in close so they could loudly whisper, “Travis, there’s five moons!” They started giggling to themself, “I’m not supposed to tell you.”
Travis smiled at his friend, gave them a friendly shoulder pat, then looked up with a worried face towards the other dwarves. Technically, Durinn might be correct, Travis’ textbooks mentioned that there was still some debate over how many moons the planet had, but the bearded was clearly dancing with the pink elephants in the room.
Orebeck watched Durinn resume their loving embrace with Travis and sighed, “I gave them a dose of neutralizer mushrooms, but they must have been swimming in hirsuterone, so when it started converting into dopamine…” they gestured towards Durinn, making a weak smile, “They’ll be fine by tomorrow once the neutralizer breaks down… I think…”
Thramreat shook their head, “At least they’re not designing death traps in their workshop anymore.”
“Death traps?” / “Death traps?” Travis and I reacted in unison.
“It happens sometimes,” Orebeck filled in, “if a bearded thinks they’re going to or does get swarmed with gifts for their nest, they’ll start making… er… tests of skill, to encourage only the most dedicated beardless to bring gifts.”
Thramreat huffed, then spoke in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “Yes, tests of skill… swinging axe blades, floors that break away into lava pits, and door puzzles built by a mating madness addled brain.” They then deflated, looking heartbroken as Durinn started finger-painting runic lines over Travis’ arming jacket, “This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have been flirting with Durinn so much…”
“Your fault?” Orebeck pushed back verbally, “I’m the one who told Durinn that we’d be fine if we skipped out on doing extra earthworks projects this spring!” They slumped their shoulders, “A couple of uninterrupted weeks for me to work on my research paper and for Durinn to inscribe their invention seemed like such a smart idea at the time.”
Travis kept shifting his gaze between the pair of dwarves who were acting like Durinn was dead, instead of whispering to Travis saying, “That one says ‘bearded’, this one says ‘short-bearded’, the one over here says ‘red-bearded’…” then decided to force the conversation into a more positive direction.
“So, why did you ask me to bring my poleaxe?”
Thramreat elbowed Orebeck with a giant grin as the bearded looked over Travis shoulder in curiosity, “Wait, is that the weapon the Quartermaster’s been getting all worked up over?”
Travis nodded as he detached his poleaxe from his back and offered it to the Wood Mage to inspect, “Yeah, they were angry at me after I installed the mana scales, even though I didn’t modify the weapon itself.”
Orebeck raised an eyebrow at Travis while they ramped up the mana in their eyes, “Over a simple weapon? Why would—" The bearded dwarf stopped speaking as they looked down, opting instead to start shifting their feet anxiously, tensing up their shoulders, and began breathing heavily.
Ugh, not again…
---
Travis
Rocksday, the 29th of Eighthmonth
“Since some of you will be going on your first Fall Expedition in a few days,” Hector boomed to our battalion with way too much enthusiasm, “we’re going to celebrate by partaking in an old spartan tradition.”
My drill instructor held up a crossbow for everyone to see, “This is the standard issue Ullrivar Mark 3. The pump action underneath the barrel can draw back the string with a single stroke or up to twelve by adjusting this knob on the side here, allowing even an exhausted soldier to prep another bolt. The magazine can hold three crossbow bolts, and assuming the weapon has been maintained properly, will automatically load once the latch is locked in. A skilled marksman can easily hit a target at forty-eight yards, or possibly even farther if a friendly mage decides to enchant their bolts.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Hector smiled as he waved a logistics corps member over, “Private Tomas, how many hours of target practice are logistics corps members recommended to partake in every week?”
The gangly young Northman, who barely looked old enough to enlist in the army, croaked out a reply, “Sir! An hour every day, eight hours total.”
Hector nodded, then grinned malevolently, “And how many hours a week do you actually get in?”
The private shifted uncomfortably, but after getting a nod from Sir Felicity, answered the question honestly, “Maybe an hour or two? If at all… it depends how busy we are, and if the combat troops aren’t already using the range.”
Hector gave the private a pat on the shoulder and handed them the crossbow before addressing us, “It’s not a matter of if you’ll be hit by a crossbow bolt in combat, but when. To prepare you for that eventuality, we’ve gathered a medical team and some volunteers from the logistics corps who have been servicing your equipment.”
I groaned as Adrian helped me strip naked down to my waist, partially because I was about to get shot by a crossbow (the reduced draw-weight wasn't making it any less appealing), but more because Arc was still laughing hysterically when I put my helmet back on and got into line behind Drozuk. Mattius soon joined behind me, and we grimly watched as the Creeksmith twins each took turns screaming in pain as a crossbow bolt sank into their exposed back muscles.
“Do we have a volunteer to shoot Initiate Drozuk?” Sir Felicity innocently asked the logistic corps members with a fake smile. I think nearly two-thirds of them rose their hand, forcing them to draw lots as Drozuk dejectedly walked down range with his head held low.
A few minutes later, it was my turn, and as I looked to see who was going to shoot me, I was surprised when no one raised their hand when the call for volunteers was asked. The group looked around, seemingly just as me, but a familiar dwarven voice sounded from behind the group.
“No volunteers? Well, that’s a shame.” The Quartermaster mocked as they slithered through the group, “Tell you what, I’ll bear the burden of having to injure our favorite Elementalist Mage.”
Ugh, I really should have seen this coming.
I started walking down the target range, but suddenly recoiled in pain as a sharp piece of metal pierced through my skin and buried so deeply into my back muscles that I was positive for a moment that it was about to puncture a lung. My lungs kept gasping for air, tears were streaming down my face, and although I wanted to scream in agony, my throat was seized up too tightly to allow even that minor bit of relief.
A medical officer quickly ran up to me. Said… something… I couldn’t remember, then pulled out the crossbow bolt with a quick jerk, allowing me to finally scream in pain.
Once I finished catching my breath, my brain finally processed that my wound didn’t actually hurt much now that the invasive piece of metal was removed. And by the time the medical officer finished cleaning the wound and sticking a bandage overtop, I was already laughing at myself for being so overdramatic.
“Should be finished healing up in an hour. I put a bandage on to soak up the puss, but you’ll still want to clean the area thoroughly before putting on a clean shirt.”
---
The rest of morning drill wasn’t as eventful. Our lectures today mostly covered what to do during our two months off or were used to provide Q&A for anyone who still needed to finalize a decision for their training camp. I paid attention, but my mind began to wander as I thought about my schedule for the rest of the day. So, when we were finally dismissed, and I was walking back to the armory, I tapped Arc on his pommel.
“Hey, could you help me find Ansel? I want to talk to him before I leave with Jethro and them to go shopping.”
“Sure, just a sec… ok, his dormitory and armory is only one down from yours. Just head east, and you’ll probably catch him before he hits the showers.”
Smiling, I veered away from my friends, telling them that I’ll be right back, then raised my hand and shouted when I spotted Ansel returning with his battalion.
“Ansel!” I waved, hoping to catch his attention.
He turned his head towards me, suddenly jerked his head back in what oddly looked like fright, then nervously glanced at his battalion mates as he cautiously stepped forward, “Travis, is this about tonight? I know you’re busy, so if you can’t make it, that’s quite—”
I waved my hand to shoo away his train of thought, “No, it’s not that, I’m looking forward to it even more now that I don’t have to worry about my practicals tomorrow. I was hoping that we could sync private channels though. I’ve got another friend who’s about to drag me along on a shopping trip, and although he promised that we’ll be done before five, I’d rather not leave anything to chance.”
“Oh… umm, yeah… sure. Just a sec, let me…” He dug into one of his side pouches, then fished out a tiny green marble to hand to me, “Here, sync to this. It’ll vibrate if you start speaking on that channel.”
I did as instructed, syncing my helmet’s private channel to match, then handed back the tiny artifice, “Thanks bud. You’ve got both of your practicals after lunch right?”
He stiffly nodded, prompting me to give his shoulder pauldron a firm pat, “Best of luck to you then.”
I quickly turned on my heel, briskly walking back to my dormitory, and tried desperately to stop my mortified face from showing.
“So, did I just embarrass Ansel in front of his friends?”
“No, I recognize that look of disbelief, he’s genuinely shocked that you want to hang out with him.”
“Really?”
“Well, the only reason you’re visiting his family for supper tonight is because you bribed his dad into staying for Durinn’s presentation.”
“Okay, fair point, but it’s not like we’re complete strangers. I’ve been sitting by him often when I join the princess for supper.”
“Yeah, but you’ve barely talked to him. Do you even know what clubs he’s in?”
“Cryptozoology and the Fortresses & Fighters clubs.”
“Oh… not to be rude, but I’m surprised you remembered that. You’re not exactly known for being very sociable.”
“You make it sound like I barely talk to anyone.”
“Please, can you even name a dozen other students here? Wait, don’t answer that, we’ll both be disappointed if you can’t.”
---
After lunch, we waved goodbye to Bridget, then walked over to the stables where 5751054, Jethro’s horse, and three more from his family’s estate were waiting for us. Each one proudly wearing the Bradshaw’s family crest of a double ended spear slicing a lightning bolt and snowflake in half. Before I could reach out to greet my equine friend though, I noticed that a nearby freight carriage also had the same symbol on it.
“Jethro, why is there a freight carriage?”
He didn’t answer right away, choosing to greet the guard protecting the carriage first, then finally turned back to me like I asked a stupid question, “Travis, you and Drozuk need a complete basic wardrobe, and Mattius’ closet wasn’t much better. There’s no way our horses can carry everything in their saddlebags.”
I scanned the faces of my other friends, relieved to see I hadn’t gone insane since they shared my same look of worry, then turned my head back to Jethro, “Jethro, my allowance from the queen is generous, but it’s not that generous.”
He waved off my very legitimate concern like it was nothing as he mounted his horse, “Don’t worry, I already did the math. If the crowds today aren’t too bad, we should finish ahead of schedule and under the budget I told you all to bring.”
“Famous last words…”
Not relieved in the slightest, I clutched my pouch containing the funds I withdrew yesterday as we rode to the nearby mall. I did bring extra, mainly since I wasn’t sure how much I needed for my ear piercing, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spend everything.
The carriage separated from us as we entered the colossal multi-tiered complex. Jethro had pulled out a notebook and was double-checking something before he led us to the uppermost level towards one of the opulent stores.
“Okay, lets get the expensive purchases taken care of first, then we’ll go shop for Travis and Adrian.”
We dismounted and stepped inside, the densely packed forest of clothing stands, tables, and mannequins displaying popular items was still a very foreign sight to me. I think it was only a year ago that my mom was gushing to Mildred about how the crate of pre-cut shirt and pants patterns were such a huge time saver for her.
Jethro marched us straight towards the back where the fitting rooms were, barked a command for all of us to enter and undress, then patiently waited behind the curtains for him to toss something to put on. I only managed to get my arming jacket and shirt off before a navy pair of board shorts flew over the gap above the privacy screen, hitting me right in the face, and almost making me fall over from disorientation.
“Better hurry, Captain Bradshaw seems like a hard-ass.”
I groaned as I finished changing, stepped out to see Jethro eying me up and down before ordering me to squat a few times, then watched as he checked off something on his notebook, “Looking good. That style is practically timeless at this point, so if you don’t outgrow them before winter semester, you’ll be able to wear them to the pool when we get sick of having to trudge through the snow all week.”
“There’s a pool on campus?”
“Kinda, there’s a few small ones around campus for spell practice, but the one I’m referring to is when they flood the arena on Woodsday during winter for the optional naval combat courses. My sisters told me that they leave it open for the students to enter the next day before it gets drained Snowsday morning, and that sea elves often host luaus on the artificial islands inside.”
“That sounds like fun.” Mattius spoke from behind, making us spin around so I could see the glossy bronze skin of his bare athletic torso over a pair of pitch-black shorts.
Jethro quickly got to work, making Mattius go through the same fit test, then moved on to Drozuk after him and Adrian stepped out. The orc had a pair of sand-colored shorts that were noticeably different in style from the rest of us, given how many buttons and seams were on the pant legs, and was looking quite happy with the choice.
“These are nice,” Drozuk spoke to Mattius and I, “you can unbutton them to widen out the legs.”
We gave approving nods as Jethro finished checking over Adrian’s pair of ash grey shorts, “Okay, they’re a little too long and loose, but unlike those three you won’t need them right away, and I got a feeling you’re going to keep bulking up.” He stood back up, then checked off a few more things on his notebook before barking another command, “Go change back and meet me at the register, we’re done at this store.”
A few minutes later, and we were already paying the cashier. Jethro grinned as he handed me, Drozuk, and Mattius each two pairs of knee-high woolen socks, “An old Lakelander Knight trick, keep a pair of these near your boots whenever you’re out of uniform and wearing boardshorts during your expedition. If you ever need to quickly gear up, just slip these on before putting on your boots and jacket.”
“Won’t that break dress code?” Drozuk asked. “Also, why would we be out of uniform when on assignment?”
Jethro started chuckling, “It’s not a Spring Flood, you’ll have some downtime. And don’t worry about the boardshorts, there’s a small loophole that no one’s been eager to fix regarding minimum requirements for pants.”
He then led us out of the store, down below what I originally thought was ground level (on account of the indoor park), and into a lantern lit underground. Jethro’s family guard was waiting for him outside a shop titled Bulk Bargains and greeted us upon arrival.
“Young Master Bradshaw, I already spoke to one of the workers as asked, and they’ve agreed to help assist provide a timely checkout.”
Jethro grinned as he led us into what looked more like a warehouse than an actual shop for visitors, “Perfect! Travis, we’ll focus on you first, the rest of you pay close attention. Everything in this store is either unsold XXXL high end fashion or things so atrocious that the designers refused to let them even be sold in a middling market. As a thank you for helping me with my coursework this semester, I’ll be providing tailoring services for you guys in my free time.”
A store clerk soon greeted us with a clipboard then followed Jethro around as he started selecting various items from the stacks of clothing, occasionally asking the clerk about what they had in stock or making me hold an assembled outfit to ensure it coordinated with my “summer complexion”. Jethro’s guard kept carrying out stacks of clothes, making my anxiety about the incoming bill grow more intense with each delivery until the dreaded moment finally came and the clerk gave me the total.
Arc was unable to remain quiet after the transaction, sounding just as unbelieving as I was, “Holy gods and God, that kid just outfitted you with a complete noble-tier wardrobe on a shoestring budget. If he can translate those skills to his military career, he’s going to make a lot of generals happy.”
---
As promised, we finished shopping for clothes in record time, allowing us plenty of time to peruse a few shops as I searched for a lockbox and gift for Issac. Adrian came to my aid this time, recommending me a brand his dad used for securing valuable items, and pointing me towards a Cloudy Rainforest imports store, leaving only one item left on my shopping list.
“Okay, I can come back if there’s not enough time, but I wanted to get my ear pierced before going on expedition. Is there a place to do that?”
I got some weird looks from everyone as Jethro bobbed his head around in thought, then looked up, “Yeah, there’s a place on the third floor I know of. I think they sell artifice jewelry as well.”
The Northman with numerous tattoos and piercings behind the counter seemed disappointed that I only wanted the single stud put in my ear, trying to upsell me on getting my eyebrows or nose pierced as well, but he eventually agreed to the meager sale, and asked me to wait just a few minutes so he could prep his tools.
Looking around the shop, I noticed Adrian was standing by himself inspecting the Northern Tundra imports while the others were checking out the inscribed items on display, and figured this was as good a time as any to get a private word in with him.
“How are things going for you?”
Adrian turned his head in surprise, “Umm, good. My practical is on Rainsday, but I’m not too worried, Jakob’s been helping me out a bit in the spell range, and he seemed confident that I’ll pass easily.”
“I didn’t know he was helping you out.”
“Yeah, I think he might be trying to recruit me into his family, he asked me to come visit his estate before he leaves for his Fall Expedition.”
“Huh… are you interested in joining? I don’t know that much about his family, but I know the Hopkins have a good opinion of them.”
Adrian let out a sigh, “I don’t know… I haven’t even given it any real thought… I been too worried about…” He shuffled his feet as frustration grew on his face, “Travis, if I ask you a question, will you promise to keep it a secret?”
“Yes.”
He calmed down with an exhale, then whispered to me, “Do you think I should break up with Bridget?”
The question kicked me with the force of a cow, leaving me stupefied, and needing to tap Arc for advice, “Okay, let’s ask him why he feels he needs to end things and go from there.”
“Why would you want to? Are things not going well?”
“No, Bridget’s amazing, and I owe you big time for setting us up, but the problem is me. There’s something I haven’t told you… I’m… I…”
His whole body began to fidget, prompting me to help calm him with a gentle shoulder rub, “You don’t have to share. I’ve got my own secret that I’m still reluctant to share with you guys, so I know just how hard it is to open up.”
Adrian locked eyes with me, then relaxed as I gave his shoulder another rub, “Thanks. Umm, how about I just summarize and say that I’d be causing a lot of problems for any family that I join. Whether it’s through a wardship or marriage.”
I nodded, “You don’t want to drag Bridget into the manure pit with you before it gets filled.”
“Yeah, pretty much. What do you think I should do? Jethro keeps teasing not to break Bridget’s heart, since her dad will suffocate me with my pillow in revenge, and I know he’s joking, but…”
“I think he should give Bridget a heads up that there’ll be some complications if things get serious between them and let her in on the decision to stay together or not. He wouldn’t have to tell her any more than he has with you, and if Bridget isn’t satisfied with not getting a full explanation, then maybe it’s best that they put a pause on things till trust can be built up.”
Thankful for the advice, I gave Arc a scratch with my free hand and paraphrased his words to Adrian. He nodded along, then pulled me in for a half hug, “Thanks, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“You ready kid?” The Northman shop worker shouted.
“Yes, will this hurt?”
“Depends… I’ve seen men covered in battle scars cry like children and little girls shrug it off like nothing.” He scratched his eyebrow near one of his eyebrow spikes, “Hmm, you’re a mage, have you ever been hit with a crossbow bolt?”
I groaned, “Yes.”
He smiled, “Good, you’ll be fine, only hurts a little less.”
---
“I can’t wait to show you my Fortresses & Fighters figurines.” Ansel beamed as we rode our horses deep into the city towards his family estate, “I just finished redoing the paint job on my Thunderhawk and one of my cousins wrote that they found a Dworkish Spartan Shield Bearer in a pawn shop. Oh, I bet we can get a game going with him after supper. Have you ever played?”
He had been talking nearly nonstop after meeting at the stables, clueing me in that Arc’s earlier guess was correct, and making me wonder exactly why he was so excited.
“Uh, no, I haven’t. I had a few figures growing up but didn’t even know there was a game involving them until I came here to the capital.”
Ansel looked down at my arm and sighed, “Right, you were probably the captain of the ruggleball team in your village.”
That got me chuckling, “Nope, we had a couple of kickball games we’d play in the village, but I’d only join in on occasion. I was usually off on my own, doing extra schoolwork assignments, picking up odd jobs around the village to earn extra food, or sneaking off to practice mana manipulation.” I gave his slightly taller but lankier frame a quick study, “I’d be up for learning how to play, assuming your dad doesn’t pester me with questions about my poleaxe all night.” A guilty sigh escaped me, “I am sorry for dragging you into my bartering with him by the way, I wanted to help my friend, and it was the only thing I could think of at the time.”
Ansel grinned as he waved me off, “It’s alright, you were at least being transparent in your dealing, and to be honest, I would have been too scared to invite you normally.”
That sent me for a loop, “What? Why would you be scared to invite me? You’re the direct heir to a family of knights and mages older than the kingdom, and not only grew up next door to the royal palace but had regular playdates with a princess.” I narrowed my eyes at the family crest on his horse, “I’m betting your family has some legend associated with them too, given that your family crest is a shield reflecting a lightning bolt.”
He made a sheepish grin, “Uh, yeah… a blacksmith crafted a kite shield for a young knight who had to defend the fortress by herself after her father and older brothers were badly injured fighting a skull dragon. Every time the dragon tried to call down lightning to kill her, she’d hide behind her shield instead of lying prone, allowing her plenty of time to dodge out of the way of its head slamming into the ground. She eventually killed it, and as a reward to the blacksmith, offered him her hand in marriage.”
“Exactly, and I’ve seen you fight in the arena, I highly doubt your ancestors are disappointed in you.”
Ansel shifted uncomfortably in his horse, “Okay, but you’re the one who’s a living legend. Bards are already telling stories about you.”
I let out a groan, “Highly inaccurate ones claiming that instead of spending months planning and crafting this,” I pointed a thumb towards the poleaxe on my back, “that it was gifted to me by a minor god, along with my ability to use magic. And don’t even get me started on the whole love triangle I’m apparently in with Seleyna and Reidar.”
Ansel set a hand on my shoulder while barely suppressing his giggles, “If it makes you feel any better, my own family’s legend is most likely horribly inaccurate as well. The only known way to craft a metal shield capable of deflecting lightning is by melting down the bones of a skull dragon. So, unless there was a second dragon, there’s a chicken and egg situation going on with the creation of the shield.”
We continued down the road together, both still laughing about how we each were intimidated by each other.