Chapter Three: Late
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By the time Blychert wandered home, a sleepy haze had fallen over the town.
The glow of several street lanterns illuminated his way through the dark, and before long he had lurched up the wooden steps and onto the porch of their dwelling, stomping his boots clean of snow before heading inside.
The small, single-story cottage smelled distinctly of cardamom, and he guessed almost all at once that Alyse had likely not left her room for the entire day. Guessing that was the case and guessing that she was still probably hard at work, Bly didn’t feel the need to be too sneaky about his return. And in any case, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a dozen wards placed around the entire place, so he figured she probably knew that he was home already.
Blychert removed his boots and left them by the door, hanging up his cloak on the adjacent rack. He then settled his pack down into a nearby armchair, removing all the energy crystals he’d harvested that day before placing them in a bowl. Between the crystals and the food, he was confident that he could finagle his way out of a reprimanding. So, he made his way down the narrow hall and stopped at the second room on the left.
But before Bly could even reach up to knock on the door, it creaked open on its own.
The entire room was filled by a series of lights—reds, violets, blues, greens, and yellows—and was cluttered from ceiling to floorboards with all manner of junk. Still awkwardly holding his hand up, Bly looked across to where Alyse was sitting behind her scrying table, her index finger still in the air with magical energy swirling around it.
“Late.” She accused him plainly, not even batting an eye in his direction.
Bly nodded slowly, there was no need to deny the painfully obvious.
Alyse eventually glanced up at him, and opened her mouth to say something else, but gasped abruptly. She then offered a bemused expression, gesturing towards the items he was carrying, before saying in annoyed tone of voice, “Bribes? Really?”
“Can’t blame me for trying. Can you?” Bly replied with a small shrug, stepping into the room somewhat, “I’m just implementing one of your tactics.”
“Hm…” She squinted, but sighed thereafter, conceding a frown, “Oh, alright. You’re lucky I haven’t eaten anything today, otherwise I’d have some very strong words for you.”
Bly was glad to know that his prediction was correct, and so he crossed the room and handed her the food with a smile, “Yeah… I seriously doubt that.”
“Oh? Is that so?” She smirked curiously, “Care to enlighten me?”
“Easy, it’s because you’re not Bartolo, and I doubt you’d care if I spent an entire decade in that dungeon, much less a few extra hours. And besides,” He paused. Then placing the bowl of energy crystals down on the table, he added teasingly, “Who else in this town would be able to bring you all of these?”
Alyse stopped digging into her food momentarily, glancing up at him with an exasperated look as if to say she was insulted by the insinuation. However, she sighed, and chuckled with a conceding smile, “It seems I taught you well… you little weasel. But just because your master’s been gone for two months doesn’t mean you ought to push yourself to your limits every single day. I can see it under your eyes, you know. And… you stink.”
Bly flushed, rolling his eyes, “It’s not that bad—”
“I respect your commitment to that kind of training.” She interjected, “As a fellow classless, I’d be foolish not to encourage your endeavors. But it is that bad. Even you have to admit just how hard you’ve been at it since the summer began. I mean, how much experience have you gained since then? It’s already Deepsummer.”
“…I don’t know.” Blychert mumbled with a shrug.
It wasn’t an entirely false response; he didn’t know the exact number. Although, he had a good idea that it was probably around the three-thousand mark. And for a solo delver at his presumed level, that was definitely teetering on the edge of exhaustive. But he needed the experience, both literally and for training purposes.
“What’s the rush?” She questioned off-handedly, “Have somewhere else to be in a hurry?”
Maybe. Blychert thought to himself, but quickly pushed the thought down deep. If there was anything he’d come to learn about Miss Crane, it was that she was a merciless empath, and that letting any surface thoughts slip out around her was the surest way to have them weaponized against him.
“You need more recovery days, Bly.” She added simply, mouth half-full, “I won’t insist you follow your master’s rules, but I will act on my own instinct, especially if I think you’re exhausting yourself to the point of self-harm. Honestly, the last thing I need is Bartolo breathing down my neck again.”
“Have you heard from him?” Bly felt impelled to ask, not exactly meaning to change the subject, but not unwelcome of the opportunity to do so either.
All he really knew was that his master was on the other side of the world, or at least he might as well have been.
The Seven Isles were supposedly a haven from the Guild, and Bartolo had connections to the Circle of Magi there. Beyond that, Bly couldn’t say. His master had always talked about bringing him there one day, but never seemed able to tell him why they hadn’t just gone there in the first place. Frankly, Bly would have preferred Bartolo to have stayed here and helped him with his magic training.
Alyse was an exceptional spellcaster, no debating that, but her spellcasting philosophy was totally different to an out-and-out sorcerer like Bartolo. She preferred material components, discrete mana layering, and slow-burn rituals, hardly Blychert’s style. The Alyse he’d witnessed firsthand a year ago had yet to make even one appearance in his training. Besides, all of her classless abilities seemed to fall into the more niche areas of spellcraft, like divination and illusion. Plus, her elemental preference couldn’t be any further from his, fire as opposed to ice.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
All of which was to say, Blychert missed his master’s lessons, but then it wasn’t really his place to tell someone like Bartolo what to do.
Maybe he just missed their real home, or perhaps it was the feeling of having a real home that he missed, not some hideout on the edge of the world. Kelvalder was a cozy enough place, but it was harsh too, and it wasn’t like they fit in here at all. They played the part, went about their own business, but it was just a mirage. After the year he’d had, maybe Blychert just hated how disingenuous everything was around his new identity.
And that seemed to make all the difference.
“No…” Alyse eventually replied, a small and thoughtful tone of voice, “But you know how he gets with the details. It’s not like he can travel or send word through Guild-affiliated nations, at least not easily, and the Seven Isles aren’t exactly a hop and a skip away.”
“But no word?” Blychert insisted.
Alyse frowned consolingly, “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, Bly, try not to worry. That old coon can take care of himself just fine, you know.”
Blychert simply nodded. He wasn’t convinced by the response, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she was either, but he wasn’t going to press her on the subject.
“Bly?” Alyse said in a somber tone of voice.
Blychert perked up and looked at her expectantly.
“Don’t go to the dungeon tomorrow.” She spoke. It wasn’t a command, per se. It was more of a wishful thought, if anything. Her tone wasn’t reprimanding or whimsical, it was simply matter of fact.
Furthermore, it wasn’t like her asking him to do something like that, despite her earlier concerns, but the sincerity in her voice made it clear that maybe he ought to follow her advice, at least for now. So, Bly nodded wordlessly in agreement.
She smiled, “Thank you. Now, you go get some sleep. I still have work to do. No rest for the wicked, and all that nonsense.”
Bly chuckled, but left her to her work and to her meal, quietly making his way towards his own bedroom. It was an exhausting day, and maybe an extended rest really was the best thing for him at the moment. He’d already given her his word, anyway, so there wasn’t much point in thinking about it.
In any case, he was barely out of his clothes before Bly found himself lying flat on his face across the bed.
There wasn’t enough energy in his body to draw up a bath, and so he sleepily told himself that he would bathe first thing in the morning. Perhaps if he had enough strength, he’d see to helping some of the folks around town tomorrow too. They were expecting at least one more good summer storm in the coming days, and there were probably people who could use the assistance in getting ready for it.
For Deepsummer, the temperature outside sure didn’t show it, at least Blychert thought. It was as cold as the winter in summer! He remembered Bartolo telling him that it was because of how far north they were, but Bly certainly preferred the local legend, which told of elemental spirits keeping the lands cold throughout the year. The Calvergians sure did love their legends, far-fetched or not, but they had definitely rubbed off on him in a good way.
A small smile creased Bly’s lip.
Maybe it was just his nature, or maybe he hadn’t let Alyse’s dutiful pessimism get to him completely just yet, but he rather liked the people of Kelvalder. He wouldn’t get too close to them, not on his life, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least try to be one of them while he was still here; didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be someone—someone dependable, anyway, in moments of uncertainty.
In essence, that sort of captured the spirit of an adventurer. Right?
There was no telling when or where Bly’s next encounter with the Guild would occur, but he took some comfort knowing that as long as he was Trelen, he was mostly safe. Or at least, he was safe in Kelvalder. People liked him here, and he’d grown to like them too.
With that thought, Bly’s eyes grew heavy, until sleep came to him all at once.
***
Bly woke up well past sunrise.
His body ached, no doubt from delving the Gleaming Caves all of yesterday, but he was used to it by now to the point where he was at least able to get out of bed and move around normally without too much grunting and groaning.
Slowly pulling a simple tunic over his head, Bly then slipped into a pair of dark trousers and exited his bedroom with no great haste.
It was completely silent throughout the house, all except for his bare feet creaking against the cold floorboards, as he continued into the dining area.
The sky was overcast outside, and a pale-colored light flooded in through the windows to give the entire kitchen a dull but otherwise calming atmosphere. The smells of cardamom from the night prior were replaced entirely by the pungent scents of lavender and sageroot, which emanated from their enchanted pots along the nearby windowsills, and only the faintest hints of an ember or two remained in the fireplace now.
Bly was hungry, but he didn’t feel like going through the hassle of making himself breakfast. However, that’s when he noticed something peculiar on the dining table. It was a piece of parchment atop which a small stack of silver coins sat to weigh it down. But more curiously than that, it hadn’t been there the night prior, he was sure of that.
Snatching up the coins, Bly reached for the unfurled piece of parchment, furrowing his brow somewhat as he read the note scribbled upon it.
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Heading out for the day. Please pick up some sealing wax from the general store if you have a moment to spare. Thanks! Oh, and if you’ve woken up early enough to read this, you should know that I’ve heated you a bath. Tick tock.
- A
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“Where in the hell is she going…” Bly grumbled, but shook his head, nonetheless, knowing better than to ask himself such a pointless question.
Alyse was too mysterious for his liking sometimes.
She kept mysterious time, ran mysterious errands, and possessed a rather mysterious style of magic, not really sorcery or wizardry, but not altogether theurgy either. Blychert seldom questioned her motives, not when she had helped him so much in the last year in learning how to function without a class, but he did sometimes wonder just what her ultimate goals were in all this. She came and went as she pleased, but otherwise hadn’t shirked her promise to teach him the ways of the classless. More than that, she’d even taken up his teaching of advanced magic in Bartolo’s absence.
There were few reasons to doubt her character, but to this day Bly still couldn’t get a solid read on who she was or what she was really up to. Despite her claims of favors, she didn’t seem like the kind of person to waste her own time. What good could come of a spellcaster of her level hiding out in Kelvalder? In any case, whatever she was doing certainly involved a great deal of magic, and a great deal of energy crystals at that.
For better or worse, perhaps that was as far as Bly needed to know.
It was then that his stomach grumbled again, and he knew immediately that if he didn’t catch mister Ralf before he closed up prior to the lunchtime hours, he wouldn’t get a bite to eat until well after noon. And so, he hurried himself through a lukewarm bath.
Before long, Bly was stepping into his boots, yanking his blue cloak from the hook, stuffing the coins into his pocket, and heading out for the White Horn all at once.
A curious thought occurred to him as he departed: He may have been barred from the dungeon today, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find an excuse to practice magic. After all, even the smallest practice generated some experience points, and hell if he didn’t need them!
And so, Blychert’s rest day began with an enlivened sense of optimism.