…
Darkness blanketed Orario, its Stygian sheet capturing the Adventurer’s city as the sun made its hasty winter retreat. A cold wind had flowed in alongside the night, howling through the city streets, and forcing a hush upon even its main thoroughfares. For all its bite, however, the wind couldn’t seem to penetrate the solid orange walls of a small home in the Northwestern district of Orario. It may have been tiny, but the insides of this home were comfy enough to melt the heart of the stiffest cynic. Its walls were a well lacquered oak, decorated with paintings depicting winter festivals and children playing in the snow, reminding the viewer that even this gloomy season had its charms. A fire crackled merrily in the large central hearth, its deep orange-red light dancing on the wooden wall paneling with the same hearty energy of the children in the paintings.
Next to that fire sat a strikingly beautiful middle-aged woman, rocking softly in her comfy wooden chair, knitting a red woolen scarf. She hummed very softly, unwilling to wake the young lady sleeping in the room above. The sound of her needles was the most prominent noise in the room, their clacking merging with the soft *pop pop* of the fire to create a cozy sonic refuge in defiance of the hostile forces outside. For a few hours, this refuge held, Hestia going about her nightly business with the peace and quiet joy that had become her norm in these recent months.
All of that was broken by a sob.
It came from the room above her, muffled and almost imperceptible, but her ears were sharp, and they perked up immediately. She paused for a moment listening carefully, though no further sounds were forthcoming. Despite that, she gently stood up, placing her work on the chair behind her, before walking towards and up the stairs. Hestia crept softly towards the bedroom before tenderly knocking on the wooden door and calling out:
“Lilli?”
No answer. Eyes narrowed in concern, she announced:
“I’m coming in, okay?”
She found the prum in bed, turning to look at the door with fearful brown eyes that were edged with red. The girl wiped her eyes and tried to hide her face, blushing in shame, saying:
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Lady Hestia. I’m okay. Lilli just has a bad cold.”
She gave a few unconvincing coughs, before plastering on a smile as she looked back at the goddess. The pain in that grin broke Hestia’s heart, and she was by Lilli’s side in a flash, kneeling at her bedside and taking her hand. Lilli flinched a little in surprise, but her grip on Hestia’s hand only tightened when the prum looked away. That hurt Hestia physically, Lilli’s strength making her much more than an ordinary person even at Level 1. The pain didn’t change her expression one bit as she gazed at her daughter with warmth and concern. Hestia’s tone, however, permitted no dissent when she said:
“Look at me, child.”
When Lilli turned to face her, Hestia locked eyes with the distressed prum:
“Tell me everything.”
It wasn’t long after that before Lilli told her newfound mother everything.
…
“Zanis Lustra.”
Hestia said the name with a malice and contempt that Adama had never seen on her before. She was clearly trying to hold her composure together, but he could see the gleam of anger in her reflective ochre eyes, her mouth set in a single narrow line. She enunciated the syllables with all the clipped acrimony of an infuriated guardian, or perhaps an enraged army commander. Adama sat up a little straighter as he waited for her to continue the story, interrupted as it was by the uttering of that name:
“He’s the Captain of Soma Familia, the Familia that Lilli technically belongs to. You remember that Lilli’s been saving money to buy her freedom, right?”
Tim nodded, and she continued:
“Lustra has co-opted Soma Familia for his own personal benefit. Most of its membership are horribly addicted to the taste of their god’s Divine wine, a drink of such potent taste and intoxication that it’s almost otherworldly. Soma is a god of wine, after all. Lustra is using the addiction of the Familia’s members to extract as much as he can from them, rationing out supplies of the alcohol to the members who bring in the most money for the Familia. He gives some of the money to Soma to finance the production of more wine, but Lustra obviously pockets the profits. Soma himself is so wrapped up in making his wine that he neither notices nor cares. So long as he gets enough resources to keep his brewing operation afloat, Soma’s fine.” Hestia remarked bitterly, seemingly irritated yet unsurprised that her fellow “divinity” was acting this way.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“But Lilli isn’t addicted in the same way, right?” Adama queried:
“No, but every member of Soma Familia is forced to partake in the wine when they get their blessing. Every one of them, on some level, is marked by that wine. Even Lilli. But she was upset by more than that.”
She took a breath, clearly still struggling not to lose her temper in public, eyes flashing with righteous fury:
“Lilli went to Soma with the intention of paying to get out of the Familia. Zanis heard about this and intercepted her. He tried to get Lilli to give up her money, and when she refused, he fed her some “Divine” wine. He refused to allow her to leave the Familia, stating that she would have to hand over her hidden stash of money if she wanted another sip. Lilli was crying because she was torn between her desire to leave Soma Familia and formally join Hestia Familia, and her desire to spend her money on the wine. That temptation has been eating away at her, alongside the fact that they won’t let her leave Soma Familia anyways.”
When Hestia finished her monologue, she was breathing heavily as if recounting the story had been an exertion in and of itself. A silence smothered the table in a morbid and forbidding quiet. The squeal of metal bending was the thing that finally broke through the gloom. Adama looked down, in a disassociated and impassive way, at the fork in his left hand. The poor utensil had been battered as he held it; dents left at regular intervals where his fingers touched the cool metal, the pointed tongs bent at a right angle. Adama’s expression was frozen over, conveying all the emotion of a wrought iron statue, his feelings only given away by the bloodless knuckles of his clenched fists and the squeaking protests of the mutilated fork. He casually let it fall to the table and reached out to grab Hestia’s hand. Careful to squeeze gently but reassuringly, he looked deep into her eyes and said the five magic words:
“I’ll take care of it.”
She nodded in gratitude, squeezing his hand back. They sat like that for a few moments before they stood up, paid the check, and left. The walk home was a somber affair, the mood of the night ruined by the serious subject matter. Tim didn’t mind, of course. His mind was working on a solution all the way home, and he had decided on his plan even before they reached their home’s doorstep. When they did, he reciprocated Hestia’s hug and told her to get some rest. She gave him a final thankful smile and waved goodbye before walking inside the home. Adama, on the other hand, turned around and disappeared into the night.
He had work to do.
…
The next morning, Adama sought out Lilli, saying:
“Gave you a break before, didn’t I? Time to earn your keep.”
“Yes Mr. Tim!” she chirped happily, no trace of any distress whatsoever in her sparking brown eyes.
He took her into the Dungeon on an easy outing. They only went to the 13th floor and Tim baited out Hellhounds specifically. Lilli had purchased Salamander wool, a kind of fire-retardant material inferior to dragon’s hide but still integral to avoid being roasted by the Hellhound’s fiery breath. So long as Adama kept hold of the Hellhound’s animosity, Lilli was only threatened by the stray embers of their breath attacks, which were nullified easily by the wool. Both adventurers were in very little danger as Adama cut down wave after wave of the snarling hounds, the ease of the fight only improved thanks to his recent stat increases.
Tim wanted to show Lilli his Crystal Mantis luring system, but that Dungeon Worm had eaten enough of his crystals that he decided he would wait on that until he gathered more. Still, this had been a lucrative outing, yielding tons of magic stones, a Hellhound’s pelt, and a Hellhound’s fang. All the while, Lilli seemed in perfectly good spirits, going about her harvesting with diligence and focus. When he thought about it carefully, Adama realized that there was something about her behavior that was too perfect. Lilli worked at a blistering pace, singing to herself with a cheer that seemed a little exaggerated. A little forced.
When she caught him looking at her, she just smiled back and asked:
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Tim? Lilli will work hard, don’t you worry!”
When he shook his head and indicated he had no problems with her work, she threw herself back into her job, working a beat faster and singing a touch louder. Tim tried not to stare too obviously at her, looking around with a kind of casual attitude that he was also effectuating. On the inside, he was suffused with an anger so frigid it made the winter’s breeze feel like a hot desert wind. He cut their outing short, telling Lilli that he had something else he wanted to do today, and they headed back. When she exchanged their goods for money and offered him his share, Adama waved it away:
“Keep it. As a special bonus.”
To his surprise, Lilli shook her head, saying:
“I can’t take all of this and give Mr. Tim nothing! How will you pay off the debt?’
Eventually, he just convinced her to take half of their earnings, instead of her normal 30%, as her bonus. He walked her home then he started his preparations. Adama’s first stop was the tailors, where he was pleased to hear that one of his orders had been completed. He examined his new cloak where it lay on the tailor’s mahogany table, its color a burgundy so dark it was almost black. Behind him stood the craftsman himself, a short mustachioed man with dark black hair and friendly blue eyes. He chortled a little as he addressed the pensive swordsman:
“It was a difficult fabric to work with! Like normal Minotaur hide, but even tougher. But you paid me for a rush job, so I gave you a rush job! I’m still working on the backpack, but you told me that was less of a priority.”
Adama had given the man his Irregular Minotaur skin for the creation of a new cloak, replacing his old and tattered version. He had also handed over his normal Minotaur skin for the creation of a sturdier backpack, all in preparation for future expeditions. Today, he had a different objective in mind. As he thought about his other plans, the tailor continued:
“Naturally some of the fabric was not used in this creation. I would be happy to buy the excess from you or use it to make something else for you or-“
Tim held up a hand to stop him:
“Keep the excess. From both projects. I have something else I could use from you.”
The tailor rubbed his hands together and nodded agreeably as Adama explained his needs, eventually saying:
“Indeed, that should be no trouble at all. I could have it put together by next week-“
He was interrupted by Tim taking out a fistful of cash and wordlessly slapping the coins on the table. The tailor’s grin grew a little wider:
“Tomorrow night, then?’
Adama nodded. He still had some research to do for now anyways. His last stop was the blacksmith, where he made one final purchase, before heading out again. The night, after all, was very young and he didn’t expect to be getting any sleep just yet.