Heated. Steam. Bath.
Those words danced within my mind, taunting and titillating my senses. The fantasy of submerging and relaxing in such a wonderous thing filled my thoughts. My last decent bath was in that cave spring, but it was lacking that oomph that hot water brought. Just when I nearly said something I'd certainly regret, I remembered.
—Wait. I'm still mad at that man. And this naughty child, too.
I looked at Amalia closely. This crafty brat almost got me! She's starting to know me too well. How dare she try exploiting my weakness like that!
"Amalia~ I think we still need to have a little chat about the other day."
Her eyes lit up.
In all the chaos of nearly being robbed, finding out we were sitting on a lump of money, commissioning armor, and so on; I'd almost forgotten. I still needed to punish her for doing things without consulting me.
—And so, several minutes later.
"R-Ro-Roz! Stop! Stop smacking me! You're going to break my butt!"
"It's already got a split in it! What's one more!? Take this, and this-! Tough Hide! Tough Hide!"
... Now, some might say that defensive Skills were never intended to be used as such. I would call those people uncreative.
"That hurts! Stop already!"
"It's supposed to hurt! And you can just heal it later, so quit whining! Think of it as training your Pain Resistance!"
While I moved on to attempting a wrestling move I'd seen on TV, Val watched as I bent Amalia backward and had her sputtering and tapping out in a submission hold. I'd instructed Val that this punishment was between Amalia and myself, and asked she wait until we were done. Val's incredulous stare was a bit distracting, but I had to focus on the task at hand. I simply had no time for the elf.
Amalia and I continued to grapple on the bed, clawing and grasping at each other. It really wasn't fair to her, since trying to peel me off was an exercise in futility. After I was satisfied and she'd finally started to wear out, I lessened my lessons.
A verbal scolding was still due, and I needed to deliver it from a position of power. Or rather, a higher elevation. I hopped off the bed and made my way up a chair, then directed my attention back to my pesky protege.
"I hope you understand the seriousness of your actions. This will have long term affects for my development plan for you! Now, what possessed you to pick a class without my knowledge? There must be a reason. Please explain."
I watched Amalia rub her butt while sitting on the bed in a jumbled heap. Since I didn't have facial features, I did my best to sound stern and give off a serious vibe. Her mouth was scrunched up, but a response finally came.
"Because Mr. Hendrickson said getting a Legendary-tier Class was impossible. O-Only heroes and the Gods' Chosen can do stuff like that! He said having a Rare-tier Class to start was already amazing and that I could probably even get a higher one once I advance. Even he only has a Rare-tier Class!"
Her 'argument' dumbfounded me. What kind of silly bullshit was this?
I groaned at her, "Aren't I proof enough that you can get a Legendary-tier Class to start!? Ugh."
While I was lamenting, Amalia continued to blurt out nonsense.
"B-But I don't even have any Unique or Rare Skills! Mr. Hendrickson said—"
"—Who cares what he said? Just because you don't have any now doesn't mean we can't teach you some! Gah-!"
At my exclamation, Amalia flinched and puckered her lips. Before I could continue, Val's hesitant voice interrupted.
"Mayhap I am intruding in this ... disagreement, yet I felt it wise to note that young Amalia is quite correct. The likelihood of her first Class being a Legendary one is on par with Greust himself descending o'er the Four Hills! Why, you've a better chance of nap-walking into a Rime Hydra's maw!"
... Translation?
"Besides that, there exists a finite limit to one's potential. Perhaps worse is that pressing one's bounds too severely may induce a most manic lunacy, causing them to go insane, or expire outright!"
... No seriously, can this elf speak in plain English for just one moment? I need to work on this.
I turned my attention to Val, inquiring more as to what nonsense she was trying to convey. What I extracted from her gibbering was as follows.
Officially, there hadn't been an elf known in the past 300 'cycles' that had a Legendary-tier Class, and the previous elf that had done so had 'Ranked Up' into it. Humans were in a similar situation. Some hero or another from 250 years ago was 'summoned by the Gods!' or some hogwash to save the world. Basically, they were telling me that Amalia getting a Legendary Class off the bat was near-impossible, to which I still did not agree.
Taking it a step further, Val explained that if someone went too long without choosing a Class or ranking it up, they would go insane or 'have their spiritual form explode'. Everyone would pick a Class long before then. To me, it sounded like nonsense, but Val was looking at me as if I were some kind of alien. She complained that this was common sense, and that even monsters should know as such intrinsically.
I attempted to argue that we should still pursue a Mythical-tier Class, yet even that did not go over well. Val continued.
"Young Amalia should be fully capable of ranking up her chosen Class. It is entirely plausible to start with a Common-tier class, then wind up with a Rare-tier Class later in life. Not even the royals are quite insane enough to firmly pursue a Rare-tier Class at the outset. After all, it is one's first Class! It's meant to be a flexible starting point. Most are elated with a suitable Uncommon-tier one! You'd likely have to inflict grievous trauma or amoral training to a child at a young age to unlock such potent—"
I watched Val as she ceased chattering abruptly and stared intensely at me, then at Amalia. Val frowned deeply, her words turning unhurried and sharp.
"Amalia, what tier of classes were available to you before you met Rozalin?"
"Just a few Common ones, like Trainee and ... ugh, T-Thief."
My pup's downcast slump did not last long.
"And you said you'd been with Rozalin for a mere several months?"
Amalia nodded curiously. Val turned to stare at me. Her face then turned more peculiar than it usually looks, before it finally took on a shade of pink.
"W-Wh-What in the Great Mother's divine posterior hath you been inflicting upon this child, fyr'hkul!?"
... What?
Before I could inquire, Val went on a long tirade in what I can only assume was Elvish, since I didn't understand a lick of it. She began pacing back and forth in the room, her arms waving around and one hand grasping her forehead. She abruptly turned to Amalia.
"Child, you are only 14 cycles of age, yes?!"
Amalia nodded blankly.
Val threw her arms up in the air again, paced a bit, did something I assume was swearing, then turned and pointed her finger very sharply right in my 'face'.
"As. I. Suspected! You are a danger! Are you trying to get this unfortunate child killed!?"
I scoffed, "No?"
Val whirled around, "Amalia, has Rozalin tried to get you killed since you met?"
Both Val and I looked at Amalia appraisingly. Of course I hadn't, so I don't know why sh—Why are your eyes swimming around like that, Amalia!?
"N-Not ... intentionally?" said the traitor, coughing lightly.
I had to double-check my hearing. What kind of slander is this!? Before I could object, Amalia even continued! Driving the stake deeper!
"I mean, there was that one time with the Skeleton Knight ambush while she was off scouting the area. ... And then again with the horde of Zombies that tried to eat me. And that Skeleton Mage shooting necrotic energy at my face. And the time Roz's magic caused a cave-in and I broke my ribs. And the N- ... Nuh- N-N-Necro Slimelings."
Amalia shuddered deeply. I felt my chair creak below me, before realizing I'd been gripping it a bit too tightly. That shouldn't be considered my fault! And the Slimelings were cute! ... They just didn't seem to like people.
"B-But other than that and a few other times, I haven't been in that much danger! R-Really!"
Val literally smacked her own face, performing a beautiful facepalm that I would rate an eight out of ten. She seethed in my direction for a while, then turned back. While I could tell Amalia was trying to dig me out of this hole, she really was not helping.
"And have you been experiencing an itching or burning sensation in your skull, especially during the night or after eradicating foes!?"
"Y-Yes? Sometimes?"
Amalia's sheepish tone was apparently all it took to condemn me further. Val whirled my way.
"Ah! You damn Slime-fiend, what is wrong with you!? Are you trying to cripple her spirit, or just outright kill her!?"
Anxiety had been bubbling up in me, and I found myself at a loss for words. Thoughts kept whirling around in my head, but speaking suddenly became difficult. All I managed was a weak protest.
"I-If I did it, why can't she?"
"Because you make no Gods-damned sense! You're also a monster! Are you daft?! Do you truly not grasp the folly of what you've conspired to commit? The humes call it 'Legendary' for a reason!"
I flinched as Val continued to yell at me. Indignation began to bubble up and push past my anxiety.
What did I do wrong? Wasn't Amalia the one who wanted to become a splendid Knight? That means risks need to be taken! Being the best isn't supposed to be easy! And besides, Amalia's still fine! I watched over her! Sure, I made some mistakes, but we pulled through them! I did the best I could given the situation! What gives Val the right to criticize me? I worked hard! It's not like I knew about this 'spirit exploding' business!
I felt something snap.
"If you're so smart and experienced, why don't you figure out how to make her a knight! You ... You, you rabbit-eared tree hugger!"
Val's eyes grew wide, before her face twisted into a fury. Unexpectedly, I soon found myself regretting my choice of words. Quite strange. Her slightly pointed teeth were exposed as she snarled at me.
"Rescind your remark post-haste, you racist, pink glob of goo!"
"W-Why should I!?"
I'd planned to hunker down on my argument. It was then I felt my Core tingle and a sense of danger overcome me. Oh dear.
Val flew across the room, knocking both me and my chair over.
You have taken piercing damage! -3HP
"Stop biting me, you crazy elven bitch!"
"Then correct your words, you unscrupulous, pink reprobate!"
A series of grunts and screams were broadcast over the Link. What ensued could only be called a melee.
"GRRAA-!!"
"RAAHH-!!"
What did I do to deserve this?
----------------------------------------
An hour later, I was nursing a dull headache and collecting a few torn-off bits of myself. Val's mouth and throat, along with her oddly claw-like hands, had more or less been healed from an acidic offensive I may or may not have been responsible for.
After a mutual apology, things had settled. I said sorry for comparing Val's ears to a rabbit, and she apologized once I protested how difficult it was to care for Amalia given our circumstances. We then discussed a few other things, and I came to understand that elves are touchy about more than just their age.
Hopefully, she's begun to understand my position as well. I think our relationship actually improved after that mess of affairs, which I find quite strange.
After taking some time to deeply re-evaluate matters, I realized that I'd been experiencing the symptoms that we'd discussed. Namely, whenever I was level capped, a gradual pressure and itching bubbled within my Core. I began to worry that there was a limit to how much 'experience' or something could be stockpiled. I wasn't at risk of blowing up, was I?
This spiritual explosion thing had become a concern. I decided to choose my targets more carefully until I satisfied my evolution conditions. Genocide of the monster population could come shortly and immediately afterward.
"Roz, when I told Mr. Hendrickson you wanted to read books, he said he had a small collection. I looked through it, but wasn't sure if you were looking for anything in particular?"
I stared at Amalia. Was this Hendrickson trying to bribe me, too? No one was that nice without reason.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Yes, I am. ... But unless he has books on national law, dungeons, has an edible Charisma booster, or knows what KARMA is supposed to be, then I'd rather stay away from him. Now stop giving me that look. I won't be bribed—though you're free to visit him. Remember to keep your wits about you. If you say too much, we'll have to leave town, and you won't get to visit anymore. Understand?"
It physically pained me to say those words. I kept fantasizing about laying in a heated tub wrapped snuggly in a towel, letting all my worries melt away. I could fully submerge myself and use some fire magic to keep the water warm. Ah! The more I thought about it, the more irritated I felt toward Hendrickson. Perhaps I could make my own, instead? But how, and where?
Amalia's tail ceased wagging on the bed. Her shoulders slumped a bit, but she nodded.
Content that my pup and psychotic elf were satisfied, I turned back to my alchemical studies. Now that we had income, I could phase out the cheap ingredients we'd purchased and hopefully develop better potions through trial and error. I bottled a few murky concoctions in the meantime for more immediate use.
The night passed uneventfully, with Val and Amalia chatting and playing a card game they'd picked up in town. I spent the night practicing for our 'big event'. I felt like a breakthrough was imminent, so I wholeheartedly worked on leveling my Amorphous Skill up.
As with most nights, the training was mind-numbing. After getting a small taste of socialization and town life, going back to the nightly stretches of silent training was exceptionally arduous. My mind kept wandering, not content to stay on the task at hand.
That weakness frustrated me.
It'd been a while since I had to quash errant thoughts. Staying on task when necessary was something I considered myself proficient at. When a deadline loomed, I'd rarely missed it. At least, back on Earth. It was a bit harder and less tangible to measure things here. An experience bar would be nice.
That vague feeling of a breakthrough continued to plague me the entire night as I created tendril after tendril—faux joints, hands, fingers, thumbs, feet, legs, facial structures. I explored the creative limits of my mind in attempts to exercise more control over my body, to the point I felt rather silly for doing so. I even started reciting some bogus mantra in a vain attempt to transcend my mortal coil.
Or acquire a new Skill or something, I don't know.
I planned to set out to this Biron's manor shortly after Amalia's commissioned armor was complete. Five days remained.
Giving up on Amorphous for the night, I turned toward the bit of Nullstone I'd retained. I doubted I could produce it at a worthwhile rate, but I still intended to attempt cutting Precious out of the equation. Creepy, talking rocks are not something I'm a fan of.
... I wonder if my Core is considered a rock? Ehh.
Potential self-deprecation aside, I hastily began Devouring the Nullstone, eager to see if I could acquire the ability to make some. The stone itself was near-tasteless, but had a certain volume to it I couldn't quite put my finger on. My mind began to wander, trying to pinpoint what it might be.
I reached to grab another bunch of the ore, but it seemed oddly heavy. For some reason, there appeared to be more chunks of it than I remembered. Oh well. I lay there, thinking about the ore. Nullstone. What a weird name for a rock.
I looked to my left and saw a few bits of myself rolling around on the floor. Why was the ceiling so high? I'd like to have a word with ... whoever made it.
No notification came. Mineralization, why are you failing me!? You're supposed to be ... my friend?
I rolled toward the ore, grabbing another chunk. Need to, uhh ... make more money. Then buy nice things. Like baths.
Yeah. Gotta buy a steam bath. A reallll~ly nice one, with stupid cherub fountains that peed water. That's definitely ... high-class!
Urk! Boxes-damn-it, why is the ceiling spinning now?
I think I'll just ... take a nap until Amalia wakes up. Always, such a sleepyhead, she is.
Nnn.
----------------------------------------
...
...
...
"—z!" ... "—oz! Ar—" ...
Ugh, what is that noise?
"—Roz! Are you okay!?"
Amalia? I'd be far more okay if you weren't so loud. Why is the sun so bright?
Wait a second ... Why do I feel like utter shit?
Amalia's voice kept entering my pounding Core, causing me to do an approximation of wincing. To make this dreadful noise end, a reply was in order.
"Stop ... that."
Not very eloquent, but it would suffice.
I mentally groaned, surveying my surroundings. I was still plastered on the floor. Several bits of myself had separated from my body, leaving roughly one-tenth of my total mass just sitting there. The parts that had left me were an odd whitish-blue color, with just a touch of pink. Val and Amalia were looking at me with great concern.
Suddenly, my mind replayed last night's events. It took my addled Core but a moment to come to a conclusion.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
The fucking Nullstone had gotten me high.
----------------------------------------
A bit of detoxing later, everything was good as new.
With a renewed respect for magical ores, I decided that I would pursue this particular goal in a bit more moderation. Val had looked at me most curiously after the affair. Once Amalia realized that I was indeed alright, she instead switched to trying to keep a straight face. Upon watching her quivering facial muscles, I felt myself heat up in embarrassment.
Truly, I wanted to smack myself off the wall. I was basically the night watch, and I'd passed out! What if that damn cat burglar came back and stole our stuff!? Or stepped on the puddle that was me! I'd been reduced to a squishy floor mat! Gah-!
I wanted to cry.
Amalia set me on her lap in bed and patted me for a while. Soon after, she and Val left for the morning, leaving me as a depressed lump on the blankets. I hid underneath a pillow for a while until I felt better.
The next two days weren't terribly exciting. I took a short trip outside to escort Amalia to Arnie's for some additional input and measurements, then we picked up some food. The majority of my time was spent doing what I dubbed slimeaerobic exercises while Amalia trained at Hendrickson's. This time, Val accompanied her. Apparently Mrs. Hendrickson was quite the talker and they'd hit it off. Figures.
Cooped up in my room, I was beginning to feel like I hadn't been invited to an office party. It was a distinctly Earth-like sentiment that hadn't been present for a while, and I had none of the modern conveniences to distract myself from such a thing.
I was in another world without my smartphone, and it sucked.
It didn't help when another day passed and Amalia and Val were merrily chatting throughout, rubbing it in my face. Was this intentional? Hearing them periodically on the Link, or seeing how joyful they were upon returning ... It was maddening.
Ahh, just because I'd rather be inside doesn't mean I don't want to go outside sometimes! Especially after being stuck in dirty caves so often!
With renewed vigor and irritation, I continued practicing. Some of my best work was done because someone pissed me off, and it seems this would persist. After half an hour or so, my annoyance quickly ceased as I felt something within me shift and break.
Skill increased!
Amorphous Lvl.5 → Lvl.6
Skill "Amorphous" has developed Sub-Skill "Division"
Skill "Amorphous" has developed Sub-Skill "Form Stability"
Sub-Skill Maximum Level cannot exceed Parent Skill minus five. (PS-5)
I stared curiously at this new, beautiful box. At least it hadn't abandoned me!
With glee, I did a small celebratory dance. Mostly, I was hopping and rolling around. No one was here to judge me, so it felt quite appropriate.
Tell me your secrets, O' Skill Boxes!
Division Lvl.1 (Sub-Skill) - Active/Passive - Variable SP Cost
Ability to separate parts of the body into additional pieces. Control level inversely proportional to number of divisions. Smaller divisions more challenging to control. Passively reduced decomposition rate of separated divisions.
Form Stability Lvl.1 (Sub-Skill) - Passive
Reduces SP consumption of physical changes. Increases ease of Shapeshift-type abilities, resulting in more efficient and rapid deployment. Minimal bonus to defense against heat and energy-based attacks.
Applicable Skills : Amorphous, Slime Bullet
Hmhmhmm!
It took only a moment to decide to experiment with these newfound Skills. I separated a small chunk off of my body, soon realizing the act felt different than before. Previously, I considered losing parts of myself similar to if someone had cut off bits of flesh. I couldn't feel a damn thing besides some pain. Yet now, the bit in front of me seemed to still hold a remnant of feeling. It was incredibly 'numb', but with a bit of focus, I could make it move and twitch.
I reabsorbed it after a while, noting an ease of assimilation I hadn't encountered before. Normally, I'd sustain a slight reduction in mass and any bits I'd reclaimed had felt sluggish for a while. The piece just now was more or less good-to-go as soon as I touched it. Fantastic!
For a while longer, I played around with varying sizes and numbers of pieces. After separating about one-fifth of my body, I couldn't really do anything with the pieces unless I focused on them individually. They were still reclaimed rather easily, but they just sort of sat there when I tried to move them all at once.
Form Stability was a bit more underwhelming, but I'd noted a small effect. How much of that was from increasing my Amorphous Skill, I couldn't say. Still, it certainly appeared to improve how quickly I could shape tendrils, or even move them around. I was on my way to having opposable thumbs again! Quite satisfying.
I'd spent quite a while trying to go from Level 5 to Level 6, so I was glad these three days had finally finished the job. Even things such as walking around town should be easier now. I felt much more confident.
In fact, ...
I spent a short while maintaining a humanoid shape, attempting to move around clumsily without my walking stick. I could function without it, but found that added stability still helpful.
After 'dressing' myself and tidying up our things, I decided to go for a little stroll. While I did say there was no way I'd stay at Hendrickson's ... a small visit was entirely different, no?
With a bit of apprehension, I set off. The walk took far longer than it should, but I'd roughly memorized where to go.
Before me stood a medium-sized metal gate, barring my access to the Hendrickson estate. I stood before it for a long while, considering the best way to get in. Part of me wanted to surprise Amalia and spy on what they'd been up to, but it wasn't like they were going to let me in otherwise. Should I dissolve the wall, somewhere? Or perhaps I co—
"Hey! Little girl! What are you doing standing there?"
... Excuse me?
I turned back toward the gate, wherein stood a tall man dressed in chainmail, along with some cloth attire.
I pointed at myself questioningly.
"Yeah, you! Do you have business here?"
His gruff voice made me lose my train of thought. Before I could respond, another man who'd been lounging near the front of their home hailed, then walked over. He was far less armed and wore a set of clean clothing. His voice was also less grating.
The second man spoke, "Calm down, Josef. Probably a guest of the Captain. He mentioned someone might stop by dressed and ... looking as such."
... He did?
'Number Two' spoke again, "You're Rozalin, right?"
I nodded slowly.
"Mr. Hendrickson told me to escort you in if you came by. Shall we?"
... Am I being walked into a trap? Was this normal?
----------------------------------------
—Moments later.
Despite my better judgment, I found myself standing at the edge of a rather expansive courtyard. There was a large shed that housed some equipment, though I couldn't see far into it due to the door only being propped slightly open.
I stared dumbly at the center of the packed dirt field. Val was off to the side under a small gazebo, sipping tea with someone I assume was Mrs. Hendrickson. Amalia was stripped down to her undershirt, panting and sweating. Hendrickson was opposite of her, topless and swinging a wooden sword around at her.
"You have the angle wrong! Once more! You need to step in further!"
I watched Amalia as she swung a similar sword around, attempting to smack Hendrickson in the face with it. While that would undoubtedly be a welcome sight, I was instead distracted with the thought that a man his age shouldn't be in such good shape.
Seriously! The geezer was built like a 20-year-old track star that weight lifted on the side! Abs! Glutes! Obliques! Why!?
And here I was, a round ball on most occasions. I marveled at the audacity of his age-defying physique while the two continued. Amalia's movements were more energetic and swift than usual. She'd mentioned that she gained two level ups after selecting a Class, along with some new Skills. Smite, Inner Focus, and Kingsguard—or something like that.
I was too distracted to inquire what they did specifically. Ugh, I'll have to do that before we go Dungeon delving, or sooner. I'd been neglecting the specifics of her stats and Skills since she only had a few boring ones like Swordsmanship and Herblore.
Their practice continued.
Why did she have a grin of her face like that? ... Was it so fun to swing a stick around? I don't get it.
... ... ...
I stood there for a bit longer still. Hendrickson would periodically yell out commands or offer insight. I'd never practiced swordsmanship, so his words meant little to me. Amalia seemed to react to it, though.
"Mind your footwork! Don't stop yet, keep going!"
A few minutes went by, then a few more. I sat down on some grass near the edge of the field.
"Good! Again!"
It was then that I realized something. Even if I knew how to stab someone, or how to slit their throat to best effect, it didn't matter. I didn't know proper swordsmanship. I couldn't teach Amalia anything. I couldn't spar with her to help her get some form of real combat experience.
Sure, I was able to teach her some Healing magic and understand anatomy a bit better. I'd even been pushing her to learn magic, despite her being not-great at it. Just because it came easy to me didn't mean it would for her. Part of me realized that, but still...
To think, I was being jealous of a kid who'd found something they wanted to do. It would be just like if ...
I mentally snorted.
Ah, teaching just isn't something I'll ever be good at.
Amalia and Hendrickson finished. When my pup went to grab a towel and wipe herself off, she finally noticed me. A small meep! crept out of her lips.
... Meep?
"R-Roz!?"
"Yes, that's my name," I replied, wishing I could roll my eyes.
"W-When did you get here?"
After some brief interrogation, I explained my arrival and such.
Hendrickson let out a good chuckle, "You need to work on your awareness, girl! Being focused on your opponent is good and all, but ya need to eye your surroundings often when out in the field!"
I scrutinized the scantily clad gentleman. He really was too handsome. Mrs. Hendrickson seems a little pudgy, so how'd she bag such a buff hubby? Tch.
"If you were aware of my arrival, why didn't you say anything?" I asked him, a bit off-put at making me sit for so long.
He shrugged, "Figured you'd speak up if it was urgent. We were just doing a bit of trainin', nothing that can't be interrupted. 'Sides, the young Missy looked rather into it. Didn't want to quit at a good point."
... Touche. Guess I'll let it slide.
Amalia turned to me, "Why'd you come over by yourself, Roz? Is something wrong?"
Mild distress appeared on her face.
"No. I managed a breakthrough and decided to take a break. I just wanted to see what you were up to."
The conflicted look in her eye cleared up, before she exclaimed happily, "Oh, I see! Congratulations!"
I nodded. Didn't she realize I was spying on her?
The conversation stalled for a moment. Awkward. ...
"Anyway, I'm heading back. Don't bother anyone too much."
I begrudgingly nodded to Hendrickson and turned around. An escape was needed.
Before I could shuffle too far, Hendrickson called out from behind.
"If you're not in a rush, why not stay for tea? I think the girls were getting ready to take a bath, if that interests you. Perhaps we might do a bit of sparring? These old bones of mine could use more exercise!"
My body twitched. I'd nearly managed to put those thoughts behind me. Damn you, steam bath! And what 'old bones', you buff musclehead!?
"Sparring?" I snorted, "Unlike Amalia, I've two left feet when it comes to swinging things around. No thank you."
Before I could leave, Hendrickson chuckled.
"You misunderstand, Miss! I didn't mean you swinging nothin' of the sort. Haven't you ever seen a duel between a mage and swordsman before? I've had a few Spellsword trainees. Courtyard's this large for a reason, after all! Supposed to be 50 paces between a mage and a swordfighter."
I turned.
Hendrickson briefly explained how a duel between a mage and swordsman normally occurred. Spells took a moment to take form, naturally. As such, an agreed-upon distance was put between the two participants. Under a standard duel agreement, the melee fighter would have to traverse those 50 paces while avoiding or mitigating any Spells slung their way. If they struck the mage with their weapon, victory. Either side could concede at any time.
Of course, rule variations existed.
While I now understood such a bizarre ritual, I couldn't fathom why I should participate in such a thing.
"Why should I?" was my exceedingly articulate response.
Hendrickson raised his finger, with a beaming smile on his chiseled, bearded, stupid jaw.
"How about this, Miss? If you win, I'll do one thing for you. Any request is possible."
He paused.
"Within some reason, of course," he finished with a grin.
Ah, there it is. The bait.
If I could peruse his library, I might not even need that Biron fellow. There were a lot of things a Knight-Captain could do for me with such a favor owed. I stared at him for a long moment.
"... And what happens if you win, Hendrickson?"
"Then I ask that you stay for dinner!" he beamed.
My body sagged, as I tilted my head at him in disbelief. Dinner? A free meal? Wasn't this bastard being too carefree!? Is he looking down on me?
I stared intensely at the old goat for a moment longer. His friendly smile was annoying. Good-natured people freaked me out.
"I accept, but I'd like to request a change or two to the rules ..."
While I wasn't sure if I could win, in the very least I was going to make this old man suffer. After all, I still needed revenge for him trouncing all over my feelings. An evil grin crept into my mind.
He would regret ever uttering the words 'heated steam bath' to me.