The wandering inn volume.., p.313
The Wandering Inn_Volume 1, page 313
The tiny faerie slapped her forehead and shouted curses at Ryoka. The Runner listened, slightly impressed at the variety of insults.
“Look, clearly I can’t see what you can. You might be seeing something by magic or with your sense that I can’t. Can you try showing me whatever’s so important another way?”
Ivolethe grumbled and folded her arms as she thought.
“Perhaps. But this is the most obvious way for me.”
“Really?”
Another scowl.
“It is not as if I have practice teaching magic to mortals. The fey come into existence knowing magic. Teaching you magic is like trying to teach a fish to swim.”
Ryoka opened her mouth to reply and paused. She frowned, raised a finger.
“What do you—”
Ivolethe rolled her eyes, annoyed.
“No one teaches a fish to swim, fool! They either know or they do not.”
“Ah, right. Well, try thinking like a bird, then. Show me how a fish would teach a bird to swim or something. I don’t feel anything so far.”
A glare was the only warning Ryoka got. Ivolethe flew up, and then the wind changed. Ryoka felt that, and she saw a wall of white snow swirl upwards and then rush at her like a wave.
“Holy—”
The gust of wind and snow blew Ryoka off the hilltop. She tumbled down the slope, cursing and shouting. When she sat up, dizzy and bruised, Ivolethe flew down and grinned at her.
“Did ye feel anything?”
“Fuck you!”
Ryoka threw a snowball at Ivolethe. The faerie laughed and flew out of the way. She conjured a snowball of her own and Ryoka raised her arm before it collided with her bare skin. The Human and faerie continued in this vein for several minutes. In the end, Ryoka stopped because she hadn’t managed to tag Ivolethe once, and she’d taken six snowballs to the head.
“I’m tired. And the magic soup is wearing off. Let’s go back into the city and try again later, okay?”
“Okay.”
The two began to move, Ryoka starting at a jog and moving faster, Ivolethe flying high overhead, laughing in the cold. And though she’d made no progress, Ryoka felt better. She looked at the faerie flying high above her and smiled.
—-
It’s an odd thing. A precious thing. Friendship, I mean. I feel like every second I’m going to make a horrible mistake and ruin things forever. But I don’t. Instead, it feels like every time I’m about to get into a fight or say something I regret I find a better word to say, or a better way to act.
I didn’t lose my temper with Ivolethe. Okay, I shouted and threw snow, but that was because I knew she wouldn’t care and I wouldn’t hit her. She isn’t like Erin. I can tell her exactly how I feel because she’ll do the same for me.
It’s so odd. Is Ivolethe a friend? Erin’s one, I’m pretty sure of that. But can I be friends with a faerie after only two days? It feels like it, but I’m not sure.
And how would I know? I’ve never had a good friend before. I’ve had ‘friends’, but that’s just a word. But someone who’s there for you even if it means risking their life? That’s new. And Ivolethe is about as good an example of that kind of friendship as you can get. She’s fearless, brave, and she’s quite open about the fact that she’s breaking rules to hang out with me.
Because that’s the nature of Frost Faeries. They’re the type of beings that go all-in with whatever they do. If they want to do something, they just go for it. And I like that about them the most.
Ivolethe and I return to the city in good time. I really only left it to practice her faerie magic, and since that was a bust we get back before it’s even midday. The stream of people leaving and entering Esthelm is still busy, but I make good time.
For two reasons. The first is that I’m a Runner, and I can essentially ignore most of the lengthy customs process the [Guardsmen] subject visitors to. The second is that I have a Frost Faerie sitting on my head, and news from yesterday has already gotten around.
It’s a strange thing. If I were in the United States and I walked around with a dangerous creature like a Frost Faerie, I’d probably be tossed in jail in a heartbeat. But in this world, I’m just treated like a high-level [Mage], or any Gold-rank adventurer, really. If Ivolethe causes trouble I’ll be held accountable. Aside from that, I’m free to do whatever I want, and people give me a wide berth as an added bonus.
The Runner’s Guild being destroyed would normally get me locked up and fined, but thanks to eyewitnesses seeing Persua and the other Runners grabbing Ivolethe, I got off scott free. That may also have had to do with the fact that the Frost Faeries were busy raining ten kinds of hell on the Runners as they ran indoors, and the local Watch didn’t want to paint a target on their heads.
“Where are ye going?”
Ivolethe’s voice is small, but perfectly audible in my ears, even above the voices of the pedestrians shouting and clogging the streets. I run past them, finding less-crowded streets to turn down.
“I’m going to visit Erin. Then I’ll see if I can find Garia. I need to thank her for yesterday.”
“The big girl with the heart of a mouse? Sounds boring.”
The faerie jumps off my head and flies into my pouch even as I dodge around a laborer lugging a sack of something along. She’s so nimble! I can feel her rummaging around in there, and make a mental note to buy some more stuff for her to eat. I’ve got the coin, and it shuts her up and keeps her happy.
Here’s how it stands. Since yesterday, Ivolethe has pretty much been by my side day and night. She says it’s interesting and I won’t complain. She sometimes leaves, when I sleep for example, but other times she seems perfectly content to stay in my belt pouch. Especially when we’re indoors. I tried to convince her to leave, but she bit my thumb once. She’s agreed to stay in the pouch if I’m indoors, though, and a steady supply of food means she won’t break that promise.
I slow as I pass by the Runner’s Guild on my way to Octavia’s shop. A crowd of people, as well as a group of sweaty men holding shovels and pickaxes is gathered around the ruined building. The men are trying to excavate the building one shovelful of snow at a time, and not having much luck.
Some of the people watching this catch sight of me. I speed up as one of the [Receptionists] gives me a dirty look. Oops. I’d better not rub salt in the wounds. At least Persua’s not there—I heard she was being kept by the [Healer] for rest overnight, even though potions mended most of the wounds I gave her.
Persua.
I shake my head and continue onwards. So many problems, and I don’t have time to dwell on that. Erin comes first.
—-
Octavia’s shop is as chaotic as ever, but I immediately notice Erin’s presence as soon as I push the door open. Ivolethe pokes her head out of my pouch; she feels safe enough to do that here.
“Something smells good. Is the innkeeper girl making more food?”
“Looks like it.”
I walk into the shop and hear voices arguing with each other.
“I told you—no, look at that! You’ve ruined it with the potion!”
“It doesn’t look that bad! Stop complaining—I told you Ryoka will pay for the potions, and I want to see if it does anything!”
“I’ll waste gold, that’s what will happen! And—can you smell that? It’s burning!”
Cautiously—I’ve seen how Erin experiments by now—I edge into what should be Octavia’s kitchen. Instead, it’s been transformed into a second alchemical workplace, and two girls are bickering over a stew that’s mostly green with something bobbing in the thin liquid. I clear my throat.
“Erin? Octavia? Everything going okay?”
“No!”
They’ve got good synchronization. I raise my hands as Octavia tries to complain about Erin using her potions in her cooking, and Erin offers me a taste of whatever vileness is cooking away.
“I’m not here to eat anything. I just need more of that Corusdeer soup, Erin. It’s wearing off again.”
“Really?”
Erin frowns and goes over to an open cupboard. It’s stocked with a half dozen jars of thick orange soup. Octavia rolls her eyes and calls after Erin.
“I told you that the soup was too thin this time! Too much carrot; not enough pepper!”
“It was worth a shot! Here you are Ryoka.”
“Thanks.”
I eye the mixture in the pot.
“Do I want to know?”
“I think this one’s a dud too. But we’re getting close; I can feel it! I’ve already figured out how to make mana soup!”
The girl with stitches folds her arms and snorts.
“That’s just a mana potion that’s slightly more edible than the rest. What’s the point?”
“It tastes better than your stupid potion!”
As the two begin to bicker, I edge out of the store. Erin seems…happy. At least, happy to keep doing this. I wonder why? I’m willing to foot the bill for her project, but I’d go nuts if I had to keep making failed potions all day. Or if I had to listen to Octavia for more than ten minutes straight.
“Got your magic drink?”
Ivolethe pokes her head out of my belt pouch, staring at the orange drink. I look at it as well; it’s just soup, but I feel like I’m holding a potion in some kind of videogame. Even long after it’s been bottled, the Corusdeer soup is warm to the touch; it’s magical, and if Erin can make anything else like it, I’ll shove gold down Octavia’s throat as long as it takes.
“Soup. And yes, I’m good. Let’s go find—”
“Is that you, Ryoka?”
Someone calls out to me as I leave Octavia’s shop. I whirl in surprise, and then smile.
“Fals?”
The tall Runner steps out from the wall he was leaning against. I walk towards him, smiling. Why am I so happy to see him? Maybe it’s because it feels like forever since we last spoke.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d find you; someone told me you were hanging out here every day. How have you been?”
“Good. I—good.”
I hold out a hand to shake his, and then pause. Fals looks down and sees my two missing fingers from my right hand. His face freezes—and then he clasps my hand gently as if nothing’s the matter.
“Bad run?”
“Yes.”
It’s strange how I don’t have to explain it to him. Fals nods at me, face growing serious.
“I’d wondered where you went. I heard you were at Liscor from Valceif when he came back this way—then nothing. Did you finish the delivery?”
“I did. Traded two fingers for it.”
“But you did it. A good Runner never falters, and I’ve never seen you even hesitate.”
The compliment makes me feel better, even though I didn’t know I’d been feeling bad. I nod at him, and he smiles slightly in return.
It’s so strange. The last time we spoke I still hated everything about him. But now we’re—okay. I look closer at Fals and see that he’s changed a bit as well. He looks tired, and maybe not as happy as before.
“How have you been? Are you here on a delivery?”
“I was. Had to drag over a freshly-made sword for some Silver-rank adventurer in the city. It was a pain to track her down, but it was good coin. I was going to stop by the Guild, but apparently you had something to do with it being closed?”
I blush.
“Oh. That—”
“Don’t worry about it. One of the Guild workers filled me in.”
Fals shivers a bit as the wind blows harder. He stares at my t-shirt and barefeet.
“Dead gods, you’re making me cold just looking at you. Is that part of your friendship with the…Winter Sprites?”
“This? No, this is a potion.”
“Oh.”
I feel Ivolethe rustling around in my pouch. She’s paying more attention now that Fals is talking about her.
“Are they going to press charges after all, do you think?”
Fals shook his head.
“No; everyone knows how stupid it is to mess with the Winter Sprites. Besides, ah, there’s some concern about what would happen if they did charge you. At the moment you’re banned from the guild in Celum, which isn’t saying much.”
“Huh.”
I feel the pouch at my belt open. Fals blinks as Ivolethe flies up. She lands on my head, grinning at me and him.
“Who’s the shivering mortal, Ryoka? A lover of yours? Or just a prat?”
“Shut it, Ivolethe.”
“Ivolethe? Is that the Frost Faerie?”
Fals squints at a point just to the left of my head. I’m intrigued—even when she’s sitting, Ivolethe’s glamor works.
“Yup.”
“All I see is a blur.”
Gingerly, Fals nods his head towards Ivolethe, staring to the right of her.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Ivolethe.”
“Hah! A mortal with manners! Too bad ye can’t hear me, eh?”
Ivolethe laughs and flicks a bit of snow at Fals. He splutters and wipes away the snow with a grin.
“Not fond of anyone but you, are they?”
“Sorry about that.”
I flick Ivolethe off my head, making her shout in outrage. She hits me on the head with an icy pebble before retreating into my pouch. I grimace as Fals chuckles. He stops when I glare at him.
“You seem like you get along with her. I wish I could hear what she says—I assume she speaks?”
I nod.
“If we go indoors you’ll be able to see and hear her. And believe me, you’ll wish you couldn’t.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to, that’s dangerous for her, isn’t it?”
Too dangerous, especially for an immortal. I can’t believe Ivolethe would take the risk, but again, she goes all in. Death might matter to her, but she’d risk it for a friend without a second thought.
Fals notices my expression and grows serious again. He clears his throat as he shifts his weight from one leg to another.
“I’m sorry about Persua, Ryoka. I’m not saying thrashing her was the right thing to do, but I know what she can be like.”
“Yeah…I was surprised not to see you there, though. It looked like she was having a party; were you busy?”
He shakes his head, making a face.
“Hardly. I’ve been staying away from Celum on purpose. Ever since she got the [Double Step] Skill she’s been taking away the jobs from all us City Runners. We can barely find any work. I tried talking to her, but—she wouldn’t listen.”
That’s surprising. I frown at Fals.
“Not even to you?”
“Not to me or anyone else. It’s funny, but you were right, Ryoka. Persua used to be part of the team, and we’d help her and she’d help us if we needed a hand on a tough delivery or someone got injured. But the instant she was better than the rest of us? She left us behind.”
His expression is—unhappy. Fals shakes his head and stares at his worn shoes, looking more worn and upset than I’ve ever seen him. I stare at him, not sure what to say.
Part of me wants to mock him, to ask him what he expected. But I don’t. Fals is a good Runner, and he believed in working together. That Persua threw him and every one of her friends under the bus the instant she rose above them doesn’t surprise me.
What does surprise me is how quickly Fals was replaced in the Guild’s hierarchy. He’s the most senior Runner, and up until me and Persua, he was the best in the local area. Does that mean nothing to them?
What should I say? I think for a second, and then jerk my head.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.”
He’s surprised, but accepts after a moment. I lead Fals at a quick jog down the street. Another good thing. Runners don’t walk if we have a choice, so we get to the Frenzied Hare in a third as much time as it would take if Erin and I went*.
*Especially because she’ll stop and talk to everyone she knows. Oh, hey Wesle! How’s being a guard? Hey Agnes! Out for a stroll? Hey Mr. Dog! Why don’t I stop for five minutes and scratch you between the ears!
Agnes recognizes me on sight, and in a moment she has one of the barmaids find me and Fals a table. I order a mild ale and he chooses a ‘Firebird’, which is some kind of a local drink. It’s quite a bit stronger than my drink, which makes my eyebrows shoot up.
“You’re not planning on running today?”
“I don’t fancy going to another city for requests, and the Guild here is all messed up.”
Fals shakes his head as he downs half of the fiery drink served to him and drinks from a glass of water quickly. He shakes his head as I sip my drink.
“Not having a good day?”
“Try week and a half. Ever since Persua got her Skill.”
“Huh. I’d have thought you’d be glad to be rid of her, even if she did abandon everyone here.”
“I suppose that’s the one upside. She’ll be running cross-continent deliveries if she makes Courier, and even if she doesn’t, she’ll probably move up north where there’s more work.”
Fals sighs as he sips at his drink again. His face is a bit red, but he still looks…morose. Yes, that’s the word for it. He looks morose, beaten down, depressed. After a few more minutes, he tells me why.
“It’s just a bit frustrating. I’ve been running and leveling up as a [Runner] for the last…must be sixteen years already. I was the best in the area until you showed up, but you trained to be as fast as you are, so I don’t mind. All my Skills are stamina-based and defensive, anyways. But Persua gets lucky one time and suddenly she’s a better Runner than I am.”
“Isn’t that the way the system works?”
“Yes. No. There’s always chance in how the Skills get assigned, but there’s a pattern to things! You put in the hard work, you get more Skills. But sometimes people can just get—lucky! And it’s not fair, damn it!”
