Chapter 24: A Bit of a Mess

TRISTAN

Tristan slowly swirled his glass of sweet tea while trying not to worry about why his contact wasn’t where they were supposed to be. The Agora didn’t give him nearly as nice a vibe as Jill’s, and it was far removed from the Roadside Inn back in Woodsedge. It was worn and well used, but unlike those other places, this one was not as well loved. The bar itself was a good example: he saw places where all the polish had been worn off over time and then never reapplied, leading to lasting damage.

That’s not to say it was full of awful people. The servers had all been very pleasant, even if his waitress had been a bit... forward. The bartender had actually laughed and given him the first round “half off” when Tristan had confirmed that, “No, I don’t want any alcohol in my tea, thank you.”

These are just normal people, he told himself. I shouldn’t judge them after only ten minutes.

Most of the people in the bar looked to be adventurers. Lots of leather and metal, with most of it clearly higher tier than Tristan. That said, he could still see that a lot of the “armor” around him was badly in need of repair--if not outright replacing. He’d always thought that a person’s gear gave insight into their character. So perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised that every patron around him with gear like that also sported scars. But he also knew better than most that moments so harrowing they scarred the soul didn’t always come from a lack of preparation. In his case, being scarred had lit a fire beneath him and caused him to get better. It seemed these people had made a different choice.

Lifting the sweet tea to his lips, he caught the little dark-haired girl across the way looking at him again. This had to have been the fifth or sixth time in the last hour. He decided this time he wouldn’t hide that he’d seen her. He held her eyes for a brief moment, forcing her to look away first. But even after breaking eye contact, she looked back. He debated going to talk to her, just on the off chance she was connected to his contact somehow. But how likely was that? He’d been given a physical description, and the first four words were “tall, dark-skinned male.” No part of that matched this girl.

Not that he knew much about her, other than her appearance. All he had to go on was the severely limited information he’d gotten from [Identify].

[?, Human, level 3]

Tristan really wanted to work on a way to either upgrade his [Identify] skill or enhance its abilities, and sooner rather than later. Even just getting Class information would be a huge benefit.

Given how young she looks, she definitely Awakened really early. Could be recently, too, since she’s only level 3.

Granted, he couldn’t be sure she was as young as she looked. Such outward modifications were supposedly pretty easy the higher level someone got. Still, this girl looked to be somewhere between twelve and fourteen. Not that Tristan was great at guessing ages, but Chessa’s kid sister was about that same age and look. If that was true, the fact that this girl had Awakened already would probably be a huge mark of achievement. As was the fluffy round furball blinking at him from her lap. At roughly the size of an anvil, it was unlike anything Tristan had ever seen. It was also behaving intelligently, sharing the girl’s food to hide the fact that it kept removing the pink bow that she kept trying to place atop its head.

All of that meant it was most likely an astral. And if she had an astral, that made her an astralist, which was nearly as impressive as Awakening so young.

The girl smiled at him, raising her hand in an unspoken greeting.

Tristan, unsure how to respond, lifted his drink to his lips, hoping to buy some time. As he lowered it again, the girl stood up and walked straight toward him. Tristan swallowed. Regardless of whether he wanted to deal with her or not, he was certainly about to.

“Good afternoon,” she said, extending the hand that wasn’t stroking her astral to point at an empty chair at his table. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Tristan hesitantly returned her smile, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. “I don’t mind, though I should warn you that I am expecting someone.”

The girl nodded and pulled out the chair directly opposite him, sitting very primly as she positioned the furball to keep its eyes above the table. The eyes seemed rather large for the size of the creature, and every time they blinked at him it was somehow both intimidating and ridiculously cute.

“I totally understand,” she replied, “and when that other person arrives, I’ll gladly take my leave should you ask it of me. Just know that one of the reasons I came over at all was that you were sitting alone, and I thought we might be able to help each other.”

Tristan scratched at the stubble on his chin before resting his head on his hand. She talks so properly, like a teacher or a mayor, but she’s so young. He could still tell that, like all such people, she clearly wanted something. “Oh yeah? How do you think I can help you?”

The girl smiled at his reframed question. “I think you look like someone who's seen a bit of action already and might be hungry to see more.”

Tristan, rather than respond, took another sip of his tea, not realizing it would empty the cup. He suddenly worried about what the waitress would think of his choice of company. After all, in Woodsedge, people would gossip about far less.

The girl continued, “You also don’t look nearly as worn down as most of the others that come through The Agora. I can’t help but think that means you’re pretty capable with that big sword on your back.”

Tristan paused her with an upheld finger that became an open hand. He knew where this was heading. He’d heard many people try to convince his father to rush orders, or any number of other requests that always got declined. He decided to stop her before the metal got too hot. “You’re talking a lot about me, and it’s flattering and everything, but you haven’t answered my question: what can I do for you?”

The girl exhaled quietly as her smile strained briefly wider. “I’m hoping you’ll join my party and help me level up.”

Tristan sat silently for a moment, considering all the different directions he could take this conversation. Assuming she was telling the truth, her incredibly low level made her request a little strange. He would try to come back to that after he learned a bit more--and after he got another drink. He caught his waitress’s attention by lifting his empty glass. Then he returned his attention to the girl. “And how do you think you can help me?”

“I believe that there are many benefits to having a larger party, not the least of which is the additional safety of having someone else to always watch your back. As an astralist, I actually offer more than most in this regard since my astrals are almost like having yet another party member.”

“Your astrals?” Tristan asked, checking his [Identify] again just to make sure he’d read her level correctly. Once again, it displayed as 3, not 13 or 23. He had no idea how it was possible for someone in their first tier to have more than one. “You have more than one?”

The girl’s posture straightened as her chin tilted up slightly. This was a clear point of pride for her. “I actually have three.”

She might have said more, but the waitress took that moment to appear at Tristan’s side. She shot the new girl a strange look before asking Tristan, “You sure you want another of the same, sugar, or should I get you something a little stronger? You might want it if she’s pitching you.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Tristan didn’t let his smile waver. “Just another sweet tea, please.” He extended a hand toward the girl. “Would you like to order anything for yourself?”

The waitress let out a single laugh. “You want the usual, Soph?”

The girl stopped stroking her astral briefly. “Yes, thank you Daphne.” Then she clearly waited for the waitress to walk away before she turned back to Tristan. “I’m Sophie by the way, and this is Poof.”

“Tristan,” he replied, hoping that by saying less he might seem more seasoned and cautious, which of course he was thanks to the not-so-subtle hint his waitress had thrown him. “What kind of astral is Poof, if you don’t mind my asking? And what do your other two offer? If I’m going to even consider partying with you..."

Sophie brightened immediately at his consideration. “Poof is a battle mage that’s already capable of impressive AOE damage by casting [Mana Bolt] and then exploding it. It’s not a super common technique but we’ve worked on it a lot.”

Tristan just nodded as she continued.

“I also have Sneakers, and while he might look like a parrot, he’s also an incredibly stealthy scout and has the speed to be a messenger when it’s needed. Then there’s Mister Biggs, who kind of resembles a bear and lion mixed, but he’s also a really solid armor-focused tank. He has this awesome roaring ability that’s actually an area taunt. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but that type of skill is exceptionally rare in tier 1.”

Tristan was still trying to put all the pieces together into something that made sense. She’s a level 3 astralist with three astrals, all of them seemingly capable... but she named her tank Mister Biggs. It was kind of a lot to take in.

Maybe that was why Sophie had paused: she was expecting him to have questions at this point.

Rather than play directly into her expectations, Tristan turned the conversation away from her astrals and more toward her. “I’m impressed that you’ve already got three astrals, but I’m also confused. At your level, why do you already need outside help?”

To her credit, if Sophie was surprised by his question, she didn’t let it show. “I’m an astralist, Tristan. It’s widely known that we’re a bit lackluster in the earlier tiers, but that’s because it’s a trade-off for how insanely useful we can become later on. If you want, you could think of it as an investment of sorts. You help me now, and I’ll help you later.”

The waitress returned with Tristan’s new sweet tea, disrupting the flow yet again. Tristan thanked her, and as she left he took a long, slow sip. He was glad to have something to do that could also buy him time to think of a response.

“I don't--But why don’t you just summon your astrals and go grind some monsters. Why do you need me?”

“Because I can only have one astral out at a time. If that’s Poof, then I’m risking both of us if she doesn’t immediately kill anything she attacks. She’s super squishy,” Sophie said, poking the furball lovingly for show, “in both the best and not-so-best ways.”

“What about your tank?”

“Mister Biggs has enough armor to absorb damage all day. The issue arises because he can’t deal enough damage to kill things at our current level, at least not without taking all day. It’s just not tenable for grinding at any sort of pace.”

Tristan took another sip. She was definitely making a good argument for why she needed his help. Truthfully, he kind of wanted to help her, even without the promise of something later. There was just the problem of timing. For now it seemed it would be less helping her than carrying her, especially with their tier difference. But he could live with that. He wasn’t exactly a prime candidate at the moment either.

With all those thoughts circulating through his head, he decided to just be open and honest with her. “While I’m not sure it’ll work out as well as you're suggesting, I do want to help you--Eventually.” He had to rush the last word, because she’d already started to swell with excitement. “And that is assuming that you still want my help after I tell you a little bit more about me.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Look, I can tell you’re a bit desperate, since you’re coming up to me despite knowing nothing about me. Honestly, you should probably ask someone their Class or level before pitching them. Especially since you don’t have a way to [Identify] yet.”

He waited, but Sophie did not immediately respond.

“I’m a swordsmith,” he volunteered, “and I’m level 11. That’s the kind of stuff you should really want to know before asking to party with someone.”

Across from him, Sophie nodded. He noticed that she seemed to be squeezing Poof a little tighter, and she hadn’t replaced the pink bow atop the astral’s head this time. “You’re really not even a full combat Class? I thought for sure you would be with that big sword across your back.”

Tristan relaxed and leaned back. “That’s what I’m saying. At the moment, I can definitely help, but it wouldn’t make everything as easy as you’re thinking.”

“I’ve lost the luxury of being picky at this point.” Sophie looked at him then a little quizzically as she turned a ring on one of her fingers. “So you made that then?” she asked, looking more impressed as she considered his sword.

“It was what pushed me to tier 2,” Tristan said, taking a full swig of his tea. “And I’ve got big plans that could honestly help you if you can wait a little while. I’m taking swordsman as my first Secondary Class. I’ve already got an excellent teacher lined up. I figure after I train with him for a while, I’ll be much more helpful should I swing back this way and find that you still want my help.”

Sophie sat back in her chair, sighing. “Alright then.” Her smile returned to the distant look it had before.

Does she think I’m making an excuse or something?

She firmly replaced the bow atop Poof’s head before glancing around the room. Perhaps she’d seen that the waitress was returning to their table. “I appreciate you hearing me out and considering my offer.”

Tristan’s brow pinched a little with uncertainty. She’d almost sounded like she was dismissing him. “I’m not lying about this,” he attempted to assure her. “I’ll be coming back through Rockmoor fairly often, I imagine, and definitely on my way back home.”

Sophie whispered something to Poof, which earned her a curious “Meep?” before returning her attention to him.

“I believe you mean that, Tristan. But I know that it often takes months to learn and train your first Secondary to a respectable level. Even if you remember to come back and check on me, I hope you can understand that I don’t want to still be here needing the help by then.”

Tristan didn’t have a rebuttal for that.

“I wasn’t lying about what I said either,” she said, sliding her chair back and standing up. “I really do appreciate your willingness to help me.” She turned her attention briefly to the waitress, who had finally returned to their table. “Daphne, can you put his drinks on my tab too?”

Tristan suddenly felt very confused, not fully understanding why that had happened. He tried to say, “Thank you,” but Sophie had already intercepted the waitress and was pulling coins from a pink pouch Tristan hadn’t noticed before.

Then she was gone.

As the waitress finally reached Tristan’s table, he asked, “Did she really just cover my drinks?”

“She surely did, which I suppose means you were as nice to her as you’ve been to me. Thanks for that. Sophie’s a bit of a mess, but she’s a sweetheart.”

Tristan just shook his head. “She’s too young to get a good group, isn’t she?”

Meanwhile the waitress had produced a simple white envelope from thin air and seemed to be reading the outside with increasing interest. “Don’t let that bother you, sugar. You said your name was Tristan before, right?”

Tristan nodded, curiosity growing. “Yes..."

“Great. I just got a message here for you.” She removed a folded white card from the envelope and handed it to him while she clutched the envelope itself tightly to her chest. Tristan could see that there was a lot of writing on the envelope, including the name “Daphne” in large, flowing script at the top.

Before Tristan could thank her properly, Daphne turned and practically skipped away with a massive smile on her face.

While that left Tristan with a thousand questions, he also had a folded white card with his name on the outside. Opening it, he was no longer surprised his contact had stood him up.

Tristan,

Sorry about the mix-up. Originally I was going to greet you in person, but once I got to The Agora, other pressing issues arose that needed attention. I’m sure you’ve already noticed the girls are quite nice, and it’d honestly just been too long since I’d spent time with them. By the time you read this, I’ll have remedied that.

Come to my manor as soon as you desire. But maybe not for an hour or three. I’ll have my hands very, very full until then.

Cheers,

Jamal

P.S. This card will lead you here and let you in. Or come with Daphne. She’s been invited too.

Tristan read the note three more times, hoping he’d misread... something. But he was pretty sure he hadn’t.

Maybe his mother’s worries about the man hadn’t been misplaced after all.