《Living as an Artist in a New World》 CHAPTER 1 – The Artist Dies and Lives Again Once upon a time, there lived a poor young woman named Hokusai Kasumi. She lived with her mother, father and little sister. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go out and find work to help your family?¡± her lazy father would say when Kasumi would choose to go to school activities. It made her feel bad that she was enjoying her life. ¡°Do you really need that? You know we have to worry about your sister,¡± her stressed mother would ask, whenever Kasumi would ask for supplies for school or clothes that weren¡¯t already old and used. It made her feel bad to ask for anything, because what if it affected the family? ¡°I want that! I want it, I want it, I want it! Give! Meanie big sister!¡± her sister would say, whenever Kasumi would get anything that was new and good. She didn¡¯t want to be seen as mean or bad, so she always gave up on liking anything or having favourites to appease her family. She was a good daughter and sister and took pride in that. She worked hard and always gave up everything when asked. Like being an artist. There was no way they afford for her to take classes, or get her supplies. But for a while, she had her little ways of getting by. Secretly, she would collect scraps of papers thrown out into recycling, stating that the other unused side was still good. Whenever another student would toss out a pencil that was considered too small to keep using, Kasumi happily took it instead. This way she amassed her own supplies, meagre as they were. Art was the only thing that made her happy. Even when she had to leave high school to find a job to help support her family. Even when people laughed about her old and tattered clothes that she wore into intense raggedy messes. Even when her sister got everything she ever wanted just by asking for it. As long as Kasumi had art, she was still able to be happy. Drawing doodles and full pieces she kept in careful collections stashed safely away in her room. Whenever she had time (which was rarer the older she got), there was a tiny pencil in her hand no longer than two and half inches with an old test paper whose back she was using to draw something. Kasumi loved her family, that was what she thought, so of course she worked hard for them, so they could all live peacefully. Her family did not come from money nor did they amass much money, so when her little sister came along when she was 13, things got rougher for the family. Kasumi worked day and night, diligently, hoping that once her sister reached adulthood, things would get better. At first it was juggling school and a part time job and then it became rushing between two shifts at two different jobs. But even when the day came when her sister became a fully grown adult with the support of the family, nothing changed. Yet still, as long as she had art, it would be all right. As long as she had access to a single pencil and a scrap of paper, it would be okay. No matter how much her family disapproved of this hobby of hers. Even if online strangers who saw her work bashed it and told her to quit posting, she never stopped loving art. She worked hard and then had her little moments of joy on old scrap paper. Kasumi always made it work. But soon, her skin became grey. Her eyes sunk and her hair began falling out. Her lack of nutrition began to show. She forgot what it was like to see the sun, because she worked around the clock and rarely left her jobs to see the light of day. When she traveled to and from places, it was always dark. But she didn¡¯t mind. Kasumi knew it was all for a purpose. As long as she had a place to call home, where she could take time to draw, it would be just fine. No matter how much was asked of her, she would always complete the job, just so she could indulge for a few minutes on a drawing. But then one day, she died. One would think working herself to death with little food and sleep was the cause of her untimely demise and, surely, it was a large contribution to the weakening of her body. However, what truly dealt the final blow was the callous treatment of her one and only love: art. Exhausted, emotionally and physically, Kasumi came home to find her room entirely emptied of her precious treasures. Scrap papers she collected over the years, the tiny pencils she kept in old, hole filled pencil cases rescued from trash bins, and pens that leaked, but still worked¡­drawings she had lovingly kept in stapled bundles as books she could look back on to see her progression over the years¡­! All gone. Every wall deprived of art pieces. Her drawers emptied. Her room looked all new and clean, with not a speck of anything Kasumi owned. ¡°We arranged a marriage for you and we can¡¯t have your future husband see how much of a loser you are. We must present a proper and clean front so that the marriage goes through. He¡¯s rich and will be able to care for this family. He¡¯s older than you, but at least someone is interested in you. Besides Kasumi, you¡¯re an adult now. There¡¯s no need to have such dirty and childish things laying around. It¡¯s time to grow up.¡± Those were the words spoken to her by her parents, but Kasumi barely registered them, such was the shock she experienced. She simply nodded, thinking this another sacrifice to this family, all the while trying to process what was going on. Everything was for them. Never her. Why did they have her if they couldn¡¯t afford her? Why did they have a second child if things required their firstborn to work so hard? Just why, why, why, why?! But there was no fighting back. This was how it always was. And she was so tired. Kasumi just kept nodding quietly, unable to summon enough energy to be angry. Just why was I born¡­? She thought to herself before getting ready for the next job. In such an exhausted, heartbroken state, she barely noticed when she tripped down the stairs on the way to her second job shift. She didn¡¯t try to grab anything when her thin, weak body tumbled over the railing of the apartment stairs. Kasumi just thought about how there was no point anymore as she fell, fell, fell¡­
Really Kasumi should be sad right now, floating in the endless white void. But it was only to be expected. Kasumi knew she died. And most likely would not be mourned. Her family actually might be rejoicing. Would her body even be having a funeral for it? Probably not. The cheapskates would just pretend they didn¡¯t have an older daughter and let the city handle the disposal and burial of her body. Did her city handle that kind of thing? She vaguely remembered maybe that they did, if relatives didn¡¯t show up to claim the body. She didn¡¯t know¡­Maybe they would to try and get insurance money possibly? Sue the apartment for allowing railings that allowed their ¡®precious daughter¡¯ to fall down so easily and die? Kasumi could see her family doing such a thing. Even in death, she would have no dignity. Well, it didn¡¯t matter anymore. ¡°Your life story is really so pathetic, what the hell?!¡± This voice belonged to the only other being here with her soft mote of a soul. Kasumi had become nothing, but a ball of light currently. A representation of her soul. Or maybe it was because she had no real attachment to her old body. It had¡­become something no one should really need to look at. Frail and rail thin and just¡­not a pretty sight. Being formless seemed to be the better option right now. Effortless. The other being was a gorgeous looking woman with golden hair and the palest blue eyes she¡¯d ever seen. The kind she¡¯d only seen by chance in a dubbed foreign movie her family was watching. She wore a white dress that had golden embellishments and a wreath of gold atop her lovely head. And she looked decidedly mad. ¡°What the hell?! What the hell, what the hell, what the he¡ª¡± Truly, she was a beautiful and graceful looking being, so it kind of gave Kasumi whiplash seeing such an entity look so clearly disturbed on her behalf. ¡°Um, miss, if you could calm down, it¡¯s not that big a deal¡­¡± Kasumi began, trying to calm the goddess-like being down. The goddess-like being whipped around on Kasumi and poked at her mote of a sole with a finely manicured finger, shaking her head. ¡°Now you listen here, missy! I hate life stories like these the most. I. Absolutely. Hate. Them!¡± Every last word was punctuated with a jab of a finger right into Kasumi¡¯s soul. It didn¡¯t hurt, but it felt odd having her soul prodded. ¡°You are allowed to be mad, you know?! If I lived a life like that I would be so pissed, people would be having their heads roll left and right.¡± As nice a thought that was (Kasumi imagined her parents and their heads rolling and had a small, evil little chuckle), in modern Japan such actions would label her a violent serial killer and she¡¯d be behind bars and where would such a life lead her? ¡°I get that,¡± Kasumi said, ¡°but it¡¯s already done and over with, right?¡± ¡°Oof, you¡¯re much more forgiving than me, kid.¡± ¡°I¡¯m 38¡­.¡± ¡°Like I said, ¡®kid¡¯.¡± The goddess-like being sighed and waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head, too, for good measure. ¡°Seriously,¡± the goddess-like being said, ¡°whenever I hear such stories I get so mad. Like, what are the goddesses of fate doing?! How awful. Sadistic witches. Do they ever come up with something nice for once? What¡¯s with these tragic circumstances? Makes my job super hard to deal with you know?¡± Kasumi watched the entity pace now on an unseen floor, golden hair whipping behind her as she made sharp about faces as she walked back and forth rather irritably. Honestly, it made Kasumi feel a little sick watching her move so sharply and quickly as she rambled on and on about her oppressively depressing job. Kasumi could relate though; this job sounded as soul sucking as the ones she worked when she was alive. Suddenly, the goddess-like being stopped, coming to a sudden realization. Her back straightened and she fixed her hair with a single run of her elegant fingers, flipping it back expertly before settling what resembled a benevolent expression towards Kasumi. ¡°Oh, forgive me, my child,¡± she began, changing her tone completely. From the ranting voice of someone who sounded like they worked a desk job at a black company, to the charming, otherworldly voice of a higher being, the change was quite jarring. ¡°My name is Tulilith. I am the goddess of reincarnation, sister of the goddesses of fate.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Hokusai Kasumi,¡± Kasumi responded automatically, giving a semblance of a bow a ball of soul could manage. Tulilith laughed softly. ¡°Oh, I know. Thanks to my sisters I am very much aware of who you are and your circumstances. You met with a very tragic fate, haven¡¯t you?¡± The goddess reached out, gently cupping Kasumi¡¯s soul in her hands and looking down at her gently. ¡°It must have been very rough and I¡¯m so sorry your life ended so poorly. But we goddesses have judged you worthy of restarting anew.¡± Kasumi was speechless. She¡¯d heard of this sort of thing before in passing from coworkers who liked light novels and anime; the whole trope of being reborn into a new world. Although having to live through life again didn¡¯t sound at all appealing to Kasumi ¨C couldn¡¯t she just die and pass on into the afterlife and rest? ¡°Do I really have to?¡± Kasumi asked. ¡°Living seems like a lot of work.¡± Tulilith chuckled. ¡°Oh, I know, my dear child, but I promise things will be different this time. At the very least I can guarantee you that you won¡¯t be offed the moment you appear in your new home!¡± The words were spoken so cheerfully that Kasumi couldn¡¯t help questioning the validity of that statement. For one, why was such a statement even needed in the first place?! Sensing Kasumi¡¯s unease, Tulilith waved her hand, summoning what seemed to be some kind of image, though everything moved and shifted into different scenes. An endless plain, a bustling town, a vast ocean and imposing mountain¡­ ¡°Your new home will be much different from your old one, but very similar in many ways. And I promise that yes, it will be hard at first, but your life will be much different from the one you had before,¡± Tulilith explained, holding Kasumi¡¯s soul to the portal-like imagery playing before her of the new world ahead. ¡°We goddesses of life, death and fate watch the people of Earth very diligently before passing them on to the next world and from there to the next and so forth, until they find the right world and living the life meant for them. We absolutely do not admit anyone to the afterlife unless they lived a wonderful life filled with experiences and a sense of contentment. Consider it something of a service guarantee from a business.¡± That sort of makes some weird sense, Kasumi thought. If she thought of it from a business standpoint, it was like selecting a company to fix a broken pipe and their work was faulty. Most honest organizations would do their best to compensate for the shoddy work. And if her life came with a happiness guarantee, then she did have the right to earn herself compensation. Yes, if she truly put her mind into such a mindset, with the life she led she deserved proper and due compensation! If there was one thing her mother taught her that truly helped her in life and stuck with her, it was that if someone wronged you, you must follow through and grab what¡¯s yours. And that meant haggling negotiating. ¡°Sounds fair, so¡­does that mean I can make a request or two?¡± Kasumi inquired, sounding hopeful. ¡°After all, thanks to you goddesses, it seems I lived a life much more miserable than should have been intended, right?¡± ¡°Oh, well¡­yes?¡± Tulilith looked a bit confused about the sudden outspokenness of Kasumi, but continued to listen. ¡°Then I can have some perks when going into the new world, right?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t see why not¡­¡± The goddess-like being seemed more indulgent and amused rather than offended Kasumi would be making demands. Perhaps, even a little relieved? ¡°It¡¯s fine to ask for things once in a while, isn¡¯t it?¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. That struck a nerve in Kasumi for a second, silencing her. Though Tulilith¡¯s words were benign and most likely meant to be kind, it brought up a sharp moment in Kasumi¡¯s life back on Earth before she died. ¡°It¡¯s fine to ask for things once in a while, isn¡¯t it?¡± Kasumi heard her sister¡¯s voice echo in her mind. The little girl that had once been a precious being sounded so bratty and entitled to her as an adult, who never had to lift a finger for anything. Once again, demanding something her older sister got for herself after scrimping and saving what meagre leftovers she got from her own paycheck after handing it over to their parents. Four years of saving for a brand new dress that she could wear to work in order to look fresher. A beautiful light blue number that Kasumi had wanted for years. Nothing overtly fancy or frilly, but it was meant for her. ¡°Just give it to me Kasumi, I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re making such a fuss. A pretty dress like that would be wasted on you. I¡¯ve got a date tonight and nothing to wear.¡± A lie, she had a closet full of dresses and other outfits. Some of them even stored in Kasumi¡¯s room since her sister barely had enough room to keep all of her own things. She remembered the resentment she had as she handed it over, knowing it wasn¡¯t worth fighting over it. Her father would just yell at her for treating the family baby so badly and her mother would look at her coldly. Kasumi had looked forward to it so much¡­ She shook herself out of the memory. Well, that was in the past now. It was a weirdly freeing thought, knowing she didn¡¯t have to deal with them anymore. ¡°I¡¯d like¡­¡± It was almost hard to push the words out. Despite having no physical form at the moment, Kasumi felt her throat close up. Damn, old habits died hard. She had forced herself for so long to go without, to never dare ask for anything, because there was no one to rely upon. A hand patted the top of her ¡®head¡¯. ¡°There, there Kasumi. It¡¯s all right. Go ahead and say what you want to say,¡± Tulilith crooned gently. If Kasumi could cry, she would have. ¡°What do you want?¡± What did she want? Now that she was here, with a new lease at life it was startlingly hard to choose. What did she really want out of life, now that she can negotiate the life she could have? If there was one thing she really wanted¡­ ¡°I want to do art,¡± Kasumi said, feeling stupid the moment she mentioned it. Tulilith didn¡¯t laugh or scorn her choice, though, merely smiled. ¡°Is that really what you want?¡± the goddess asked, to be sure. Kasumi made an affirmative noise. ¡°That¡¯s not a problem,¡± Tulilith replied, ¡°we can certainly make it a guarantee that you will be able to do all the art you like.¡± Hearing this Kasumi¡¯s soul perked up. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes, really.¡± ¡°All the art I want?¡± ¡°Until you grow sick of it, my child. Now¡­¡± Tulilith held Kasumi¡¯s soul above her head, gathering light and pushing it into the mote, slowly giving it a physical form once more. ¡°If there is anything else you¡¯d like to say or do before I send you off, now would be the time to say or do it.¡± In the end, there really wasn¡¯t. Kasumi was too excited at the thought of immersing herself in doing art soon that she really did not ask about too many details. And there was nothing from her old home that would be holding her back, truly, that would make her have any last requests before she was sent off. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go,¡± Kasumi confirmed. Tulilith nodded and released her soul as her body formed, sending her to the next world in sparkling golden light. ¡°Then from now on, you are no longer Hokusai Kasumi. From this day forth¡­your new life and name¡­.is Penelope Snowflower!¡±
This was the world of Iralon¨¦ and the land in which Penelope would now reside was known as Birain, a country that encompassed most of the eastern continent¡¯s east coast. Based on the knowledge she was blessed with by the goddess of rebirth, Tulilith, the land was a temperate land, which meant it was subject to the changing of the seasons and was home to all kinds of flora and fauna found more or less similarly to European countries. In other words, Penelope should be expecting to have to deal with winter eventually. Luckily for her, Tulilith dropped her off in Birain during the spring season, so there was time to prepare herself for her new life. In terms of technology Birain had magic that replaced every day conveniences she was used to in her old life, for the most part. Some things were beyond this world currently, like television, radio and long-distance communications and the like, though some people were lucky enough to be capable of magic that allowed that, but it certainly wasn¡¯t an every day occurrence like cellphones on Earth. So said the knowledge the goddess blessed her with anyways. There were a great many things Penelope didn¡¯t know, like current events, cultures and names of towns and such, but she figured she could figure it out one bit at a time. She was pretty resourceful before, after all. So long as she had a working knowledge of the world, it should be all right. When she was dropped off Tulilith kissed her forehead, a strange mark appearing for a moment before disappearing. In that moment Penelope suffered a large headache as she was aggressively shoved as much information on Iralon¨¦ as possible, in order to aid on her survival. In this world, everyone was gifted by the goddesses who ruled over every aspect of life, from the moment they were born. A gift could range from having incredible cleaning skills to being able to master swordplay; each one was ranked by levels. It was meant to be a leg up on one skill to help determine a person¡¯s future, though it didn¡¯t mean you couldn¡¯t build up other skills. Penelope was also blessed by one such gift, a skill higher above the rest. She was also taught how to check that as well. Standing next to a tree overlooking a small pond, Penelope decided it was time to give her status a check. She didn¡¯t expect much, already grateful she can start life again. Tulilith even said she would have brought Penelope directly in front of a town if she wanted, but Penelope said that she would rather be a distance away. At the very least she was left on a road that headed to a nearby town. Right now, Penelope just needed a moment to come to terms with what happened. After all, it was very, very sudden change. Penelope didn¡¯t have to work double shifts, had no large amount of work to stress about. At this time and moment she was free and it was such a weird feeling, knowing that nobody would be harassing her any time soon. Is this decision paralysis? Penelope thought to herself. Knowing that the sky¡¯s the limit now made her feel a little uneasy. She cupped her face, trying to wrestle with this feeling of not knowing what her next step was when she realized how full her cheeks felt. Oh, right. This is a new body given to me by Tulilith. Perhaps the best course of action was to take stock of her immediate assets; in this case, she should take a look at herself. Her former self had become something of a husk of a woman in her late thirties, so she had to wonder what she looked like now. Casting her gaze around, she figured the pond would serve well enough as a mirror. Crouching by the water¡¯s side, Penelope took a look at her new self. ¡­Wow, is that really me? The girl inside the reflected water touched her face at the same time that Penelope did, moved to run through silky light blue hair just in the same way. She stared into the blue eyes of the stranger in the water, a hue similar to that of the goddess she recently met upon her death as Hokusai Kasumi. As far as Penelope could assess, the new form she possessed was that of a cute ten-year-old girl. I was wondering why everything seemed so high and low all at once. So that¡¯s why¡­ She came fully clothed, too, and the dress she wore. Penelope smiled bittersweetly. Though this was a version meant for a child, it reminded her of the dress she had to give up so long ago. The same light blue that she liked so much. ¡°How silly¡­everything about me is blue¡­are you trying to say something, you fretful goddess?¡± Penelope spoke aloud, finally hearing her own voice in this new form. God, how could she sound so young. Did she ever sound like that before? Everything was so new, it truly sunk in that she was now a new person, that her old self had died and so pathetically, too, that it would garner the sympathy of a goddess¡­ A ripple appeared in the pond¡¯s water. And then another, and then another¡­ Tears fell from Penelope¡¯s eyes, mourning the loss of her old life. It had not been the best and every day was harder than the last, but it had been her life, after all. One that she worked hard to build. She had been a proud worker, someone who did best to support her family, just to get a scrap of happiness ¨C Penelope wailed and cried, because she knew nobody would care if she had died. That she did die. The only person who would care about the loss of Hokusai Kasumi would be the person she was now and she let it all out. The unfairness of treatment between herself and her younger sister. About how no matter how much she did, there was no praise, no love. Simply harsh words of ¡°You should be doing this in the first place.¡± She had no friends, no support. It was such a wretched life, so she cried and cried and cried as she processed the shock of it all. Freedom was hers now, and yet, she couldn¡¯t help, but to feel a little miserable. A new place, a new life. She has to start over again. The person in her reflection was someone she didn¡¯t know yet. Surely, she would come to build and know the person that was Penelope Snowflower, but for now, she wailed for a wasted life, filled with sadness and regret. Penelope didn¡¯t know how long she wept by the pond, but her tears eventually stopped and the pain felt dull in her chest. She couldn¡¯t summon the tears back in that endless void where she met the goddess of rebirth, but as things settled, it took the young girl a bit of time to cope with the change. She had never cried so much before. Maybe she¡¯d been holding it in since the beginning. It felt good, in a way. Letting it all out. Ah, I never knew I was such a crybaby, Penelope thought. I never would have dreamed of crying before. I was never allowed¡­ Looking back at her reflection she saw how red her eyes were, and how puffy her face became. Goodness. Maybe it was a good thing she never cried if this was going to be the result. In the water Penelope saw a tinge of orange. Oh, had that much time passed since she arrived? She must have needed more time to come to terms with everything than she thought. Raising her eyes to peer up at the orange sky, she could only guess how fast time had slipped by and was a little annoyed with herself for wasting so much time. Even if she took off now, she wasn¡¯t sure how long it would be before she got to town. Also, even when she did, she didn¡¯t have money. Or did she? Penelope had been given a small satchel to carry things, but she hadn¡¯t taken the time to check its contents. Would there be money in there? Opening it up she was both delighted and disappointed. Not a single coin in there. However, there was plenty of parchment paper and a few sticks of charcoal to draw with. Not the fanciest things to start off with, but for an artist like Penelope anything was good enough. On further inspection, there was nothing below the pile of paper. So, no food, no money, no other prospects. Penelope did say she wanted to do art, but how could she survive on just art alone?! Unlike most artists, she was realistic! You couldn¡¯t survive on nothing, but art! At least pack her a piece of bread or something! Well, based on her past life, she knew she could live for a long time without food, so long as she had water, so there wasn¡¯t a big emergency, yet. The pond next to her could service her for a bit, at least until tomorrow so she could figure something out. No, the real problems were making money to eventually take care of two large problems: Feeding herself and shelter. Looking at her little hands, she had to wonder the wisdom of sending her in a child¡¯s body to Iralon¨¦. Would this place allow a child like her to work to earn her coin? No immediate information on the topic popped up, so it would have to be something she¡¯d learn on the morrow when she eventually traveled during the day to make it to town. And if people did hire kids, just what would they hire them for? What skills did she have? Penelope wasn¡¯t foolish enough to think she could rake it in with such a tiny body. ¡°Oh, right! My stats. I got so distracted I didn¡¯t think to check. Now let¡¯s see, how did Tulilith say it works¡­? Oh, right...Status Open!¡± Right before her eyes, a holographic-like screen appeared before her, like a menu on a computer program, detailing her specs. [PENELOPE SNOWFLOWER LEVEL 1] [HP: 100 MP: 100 STR: 5 DEF: 5 MAG: 10 SPD: 5 ACQUIRED SKILLS COOKING: LEVEL 5 CLEANING: LEVEL 5 IMAGINATION: LEVEL 10 ARTISTRY: LEVEL 10] Well, that seemed about right. She hadn¡¯t been an expert in videogames, but what few she snuck to play as Kasumi led her to believe she had newbie skills that correlated to her actual level. Seeing her artistry and imagination skills at level 10 made her smile, as it was the highest skill she possessed currently. She guessed things were most likely ranked from 1 to 100 and having something that high at such a low level was a decent start, as promised by how this world works. Most kids her age would probably have something like this similar to her with one skill in particular being higher than others in order to nurture an interest in a trade or job. Well, if nothing else, the goddess did make good on the promise she could draw. It still miffed Penelope there wasn¡¯t much else to work with. Hopefully people of this day and age liked buying artwork. Or maybe she could work in a kitchen to earn her keep. Yes, as long as she had arms and legs, it should be okay. Tomorrow she would find work. Thus her main problem was going to be shelter. ¡°I could sleep at the base of the tree¡­? No, even though it¡¯s spring it might be too cold. Maybe in the branches if I climbed up?¡± The safest option seemed to be the tree branches and Penelope decided to climb upwards. Well, a climbing skill was definitely something she didn¡¯t have as getting above a few feet was a chore. Though Penelope was quite stubborn and even though her hands and arms were weaker than that of her 39-year-old self, she made it up to the first branch at least. While it seemed strong from where she had been standing below, now that she perched herself on the branch it felt very unstable, plying almost with her small weight. There was going to be no easy sleep that night. Penelope¡¯s heart race as she tried different positions, but every time she moved on the branch it would dip suddenly or bend, which caused her to yelp or almost fall off. Eventually she managed to settle, pressed up against the trunk and where the branch was thickest. How did other kids in her past make this look so effortless and easy?! Penelope was sure to fall just from breathing wrong. Knowing she would not fall asleep easily nor actually rest, but would be safe enough hidden among the leaves, Penelope set to occupying herself for the next several hours. As the sun slowly fell, Penelope observed the tree she was in. The trunk was strong, the bark not especially rough, but definitely with a texture she did not recognize at all. The leaves were also not large or thick, like a maple leaf, but they were numerous enough to hide her small form. There were little dark orbs as well, she noticed. A kind of fruit? She reached up and plucked one, turning it around in her finger. She squished it gently, feeling the texture of the fruit and finding its nature nagging at the back of her mind. She sniffed it and though she rarely ate them before, Penelope recognized that this was an olive! Or something similar to an olive. Her hopes soared at the thought ¨C food! Granted, it wasn¡¯t her favourite thing to eat, it was better than starving until she got to town. But wait, wait, wait. She had to slow down. Foolish people would immediately eat a foreign thing and get sick. She had to be practical about this. She shouldn¡¯t stuff her face with these in case they were poisoned. Best thing she could do was maybe lick one? If they were poisonous, she would have a tingle in her tongue, like that of an allergic reaction, right? God, she wished she¡¯d been given more practical knowledge of this world before Tulilith left. Well, only one way to find out. Maybe she would be lucky and she¡¯d be saved by the goddesses; they did say she¡¯d have a guarantee of not dying right away. If not, she would heartily demand compensation for her next life! Breaking the fruit in half, she found a small pit inside, which she tossed onto the ground. Taking a breath, she brought one half of the tiny fruit and have it a quick lick. There were immediate regrets. It wasn¡¯t as if a fast-acting poison had taken hold of her and she was foaming at the mouth, body with paralysis and she tumbled to her doom once more. Oh, no. What assailed her tongue wasn¡¯t a poison, but simply the most bitter taste she ever had! ¡°Oh, grosssss!!!¡± she shouted. She hated bitter foods as Kasumi. Seemed in her new life this was also a truth. She licked it again to hope maybe her tongue would get used to it, but it somehow got worse. Ugh. After waiting a few minutes to gather herself and do a mental check if her body was having a reaction, she eventually deemed this olive-like fruit safe, if disgusting, to eat. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why they¡¯re always brined like pickles? Maybe it hid this disgustingly bitter taste,¡± she mused aloud, dutifully picking more from the nearby area. Well, she couldn¡¯t complain, there was something to eat. She packed some into her satchel while a handful was kept to eat now. Penelope looked at the food sadly, but made herself eat them one by one, citing to herself she had to deal with worse before. Much, much worse. At least she was fed. ¡°I want rice,¡± she mumbled despondently. To think that in the morning she would be subjecting herself to eating more of these¡­ After the olive escapade she was still left alone in the tree, though now darkness was truly settling in. Some light of a rising moon filtered through the canopy of leaves around her, but she could barely make out her own hand. Yet still, she eventually came to an old comfort: drawing. If she couldn¡¯t sleep, then she could get started on making some art. Bringing a piece of charcoal to a piece of parchment, she began her first little sketch. Nothing fancy, just to see what she could make. Visualize, perhaps, something she wanted since she was here in this new world. ¡°I want a home. I want a place to be safe. Where I can sleep¡­¡± These were the words she said to herself with conviction. A house came to being on the page. Due to the lack of light there was no extreme detail, but generally had the essence of a house. Since she was currently a child, she forgive her own whimsy at drawing herself as a childish stick figure next to her house. Comically as big as the house she had drawn, as normal for children who tended to make these kinds of drawings. Not the work of a classical artist, but just being able to put an image to paper gave her soul ease. Yeah, she thought. Things will be okay. I¡¯ll figure it out! I¡¯ll make it work in this new world. I¡¯ll get a home and I¡¯ll be able to do whatever I want and be happy! A little smile was drawn onto her drawing self on the paper too accent this thought. And as she drew her charcoal away from the paper, it suddenly began to glow, shocking Penelope greatly. The lines took on a golden hue and came off the page, flying towards the area next to the pond. Penelope watched as they built a foundation similar to what she had drawn before sticking together and solidifying. Filling in parts that was missing, like in a colouring page, tough instead of colour was the materials needed to make her picture a reality. Walls came up, a door and single lamp overlooking the entrance. In one last burst of golden light, the structure settled, as if it had always been there. Penelope was gobsmacked. ¡°Wh¡­what just happened?!¡± CHAPTER 2 – The Artist Tests Her Limits Once upon a time, there was a diligent young woman named Hokusai Kasumi. ¡°Hey, Kasumi-chan~ Can you do this for me? Thanks~¡± She hadn¡¯t agreed to anything at all, Kasumi thought bitterly, yet the pile of paperwork was accepted on her desk without a word. Years of conditioning to just accept the status quo kept her from opening her mouth. No, not just not open it, but to bite her tongue. Literally. Kasumi hadn¡¯t tasted anything normally in a long time¡­ Sighing, she mentally adjusted the time she needed to take on her own job so she could include this new batch. Kasumi was competent, efficient and focused. And this was a curse rather than a blessing, more times than not. Hours that could have been spent resting was used on overtime that got paid half the time. Arguments with higher ups resulted in veiled threats of being dismissed, so she was just grateful for when she was given the money. People telling her about why she was so slow. What was taking her so long. Why was she stealing money from the company by working so many hours outside her schedule. It wasn¡¯t as if she wanted to. Not her fault others in the office just had to clock out at 5, saying they had important things to do. Of course, came the bitter thoughts, it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have things to do, too. It was more or less the same at her second job at the university, a job that she got out of sheer dumb luck. It paid much more than her day job, but unfortunately, they could only hire her on a part time basis during the night. Donning her uniform of a security guard, she monitored the halls in the science and engineering wing of the school. And this meant no sitting down, ever. The only time she got to sit was during her desk job by day. And she would be lucky to get enough sleep to stave off any negative effects so early in her youth. It was better than her high school job of being a convenience store worker. And most nights it was pretty quiet and peaceful at her night job. It was much more liked, because she had moments to herself while patrolling. What about breaks? Someone should be spotting her, right? Normally, yes, but her boss preferred to sleep through the entire shift, leaving his subordinates to do all the work. And upon seeing how diligent Kasumi was, her fellow guardsmen also began to slack off. It¡¯s all right as long as we have Kasumi. Kasumi is so reliable. We can depend on Kasumi. It¡¯s better if Kasumi does it. Words like this that used to give her pride as a teen made her want to throw up as a fully grown adult who understood the world more. These were not compliments. They were backhanded things masked as niceties, spoken to make her feel like she would be obliged to do things. Binding her with unsympathetic, unhelpful, meaningless kind words. And if she tried doing the bare minimum, people complained. Because why wasn¡¯t she doing what she did before? It was disappointing. Jerks. Useless. Lazy assholes. So many thoughts like this circled in her unhappy mind during those days. But she barely had to interact. If she finished any extra tasks quickly, she could then enjoy some peace and quiet. In the beginning it used to bring her joy. Doing a little service here and there made people smile and show her gratitude. People still said their thanks. So Kasumi had done a little more, here and there, because it was her way of showing she cared. That she wanted to be friendly. And yet, instead of these acts remaining as little gifts of service, they became givens. And it went downhill over the years as new workers came in, old workers left. Younger people who were told that Kasumi assumed those responsibilities, but never told why she did it. Just that it was always that way. ¡°When was the last time someone said ¡®good job¡¯? I wonder¡­¡± Not even in passing had she heard those works. Just a careless ¡®good work¡¯ that was normally thrown around as the shift changed. It was spoken between others, but it never echoed when she said it. Even when she smiled and put in a bit of cheerful energy she did not feel. ¡°Good work!¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­Ah.¡± It happened again. But she kept up that smile as she punched off of the clock and headed home. 6 AM. The sun hadn¡¯t even come up yet. At least the streetlights were still on. Kasumi idly wondered what she should make for breakfast for everyone when she got home. What could she smuggle into a tiny container she could sneak into her room that nobody would miss. Her sister was going to be headed to classes, too, so maybe she should make something with plenty of protein¡­ Right on time, with the right timing. When Kasumi stepped in, it started immediately. ¡°Kasumi, I¡¯m hungry!¡± It was 7 AM, right on schedule. ¡°Yes, I know, I¡¯ll get to it right away.¡± ¡°Kasumi, did you buy me any beer?¡± Kasumi held up the bag from the convenience store with a smile. It was swiped from her hands and she fought back the urge to sigh; more drinking at this time of day? ¡°Yes, papa. I also added a bag of your favourite snacks.¡± A grunt of response as her father went back to the living room and Kasumi kicked off her shoes to go to the kitchen to prepare food. ¡°Kasumi, have you started laundry yet?¡± her mother called from down the hall. ¡°Not yet, mama.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forget to do it.¡± The urge to drop what she was doing to get started on laundry was strong, but Kasumi held firm ¨C she worked out a proper order of priority and schedule to perfection over the years. If she deviated everything would go to Hell. So long as nothing differentiated, she could get everything done without anyone getting mad. She must not let anyone feel irritated or mad, or it would be her fault. And she would get it again. Kasumi touched her left arm out of habit. There was an echo of a throb. Alas, that was hardly ever how things went. As she was plating breakfast (and sneaking a few things into a plastic baggy she slipped into her pocket) the roar of her father¡¯s voice rang through the entire apartment. Kasumi¡¯s heart raced as she hurried to do things as the stomp of feet from the living room to the kitchen began. She had to get the plates on the table. Quick, quick, quick¡ª Kasumi had the last plate down as both her sister and her father came into the dining room. Her sister sat down calmly as if nothing was wrong as their father came round to smack Kasumi¡¯s left arm and another, lighter (but no less painful) chop upside her head. Kasumi did her best not to flinch or act at all surprised, but not brave. No. No brave face. It got worse with a brave face. He began yelling, words slurred. Looks like he speedran through his beer faster than she could cook this time. Damn. All she could do was apologize as her mother came to eat, too, ignoring the intense scene. This happened often enough that there was no point in reacting anymore. After all, as long as Kasumi took on the entirety of the family head¡¯s wrath, then they need not worry and just enjoy their lives. ¡°Mama, I¡¯m going to go out again today,¡± her sister said as Kasumi took another hit to her right arm now, her dominant arm. The arm she used for drawing. ¡°Papa I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Useless girl, what the hell is this snack supposed to be?!¡± Her mother just looked at her younger sister, smiling as they discussed things to come that day. ¡°Oh, the rich doctor¡¯s son? How nice. Do you need money?¡± ¡°He¡¯s going to pay for everything, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to have pocket money.¡± ¡°Well, you can grab some from Kasumi¡¯s wallet. I¡¯m sure she doesn¡¯t mind. Anything for her cute little sister.¡± ¡°Okay, I think about¡­.10000 yen? No 20000!¡± ¡°Oh, darling, that¡¯s no good. Kasumi should have gotten paid already, so I think you can grab 50000 from her and we should still have enough for the bills this week.¡± ¡°Really? Yay~!¡± Just another scene, another day. While Kasumi got beaten black and blue while her mother and sister just enjoyed their lives peacefully. And when her father lost all steam, lumbering back to the living room after his tantrum, Kasumi would turn to her family and ask if they were all right. Long ago, her mother would apologize and her little sister would thank her for protecting them. But now, they just looked coldly at her. Indifferent as Kasumi smiled through the pain, heading to her room afterwards without another word. At least it was just one of them losing their minds that day. A plus, honestly. Kasumi didn¡¯t cry. Tomorrow will be better. She¡¯s sure things will get better. It had to. Even with her hands busted up, there was enough strength left for her to make a quick doodle to calm her soul and to soften the blow to her heart. A little house, a childish stick figure of Kasumi smiling next to a sun with spikes coming out of it. A simple drawing, but of something happy. A dream for someone who barely got enough sleep to dream. A happy her. A little home. It will get better soon¡­she can reach that if she worked hard.
Penelope slept safely through the night. She had a dream about a day in her old life which left a gross taste in her mouth (or maybe that was the olives she ate the night before and will have to eat again). On inspection of the house that appeared out of nowhere, it was exactly as she had drawn on her paper. Including the size, to her personal irritation. However this came to be, what she drew became real. Opening the door found the inside bare of any necessities. It was just four walls and a floor, essentially. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I was expecting,¡± she sighed that night with a slight chuckle. But it had a door (that locked) and was shelter from the elements, so for the time she had not questioned it much. In the morning, she looked at everything more critically. Tapping the walls and floors revealed everything was solid enough. The wood was pretty flimsy in all honesty, like something you would use to make a shack. And, honestly, looking at it now, that seemed generous as a description. However, it worked for what she needed; a place to sleep with enough room for a child of ten years. And it came after she drew it; this meant that it was linked to her Artistry Skill, somehow. Penelope took out her paper and charcoal, having decided on drawing something else to test out her abilities. A simple circle. It could be anything really. However nothing came out. Taking a moment, she added a few more details, making the idea and concept less vague and defining this object`s existence with every stroke of charcoal. A little depth here, a few lines to indicate a shadow there ¨C just a rough and quick sketch of a bowl. In her mind¡¯s eye, she was thinking of a simple wooden bowl. And just like last night, once she put the finishing touch, the item appeared nearby in a flash of golden light right before her eyes. ¡°Wow!¡± Penelope breathed, amazed. Reaching out she touched the bowl, watching it wobble slightly on the ground in front of her. Seeing it actually be there, she grasped it firmly, lifting it up and feeling the weight. It was a bowl, just as she had imagined, more or less. Pretty flimsy material, though, similar to the shack she made herself the other night. It was definitely wood, but its thinness reminded her of thick cardboard bowls from take out restaurants. But knowing this worked, her mind was alight with possibilities. And so Penelope tested herself in earnest. This went on all day, with her alternating taking breaks to drink from the pond or eating a few (very bitter) olives to keep her energy up. The sky was once again becoming orange by the time she figured out all that was needed, with thorough notes on top of this. This was what she understood of her powers:
  1. The amount of time spent drawing something did change the quality of her creation.
  2. The materials she used also changed the quality of her creation.
  3. Creating something costs mana (MP).
  4. There was no limit to how many items she made so long as she had mana to make it.
  5. The quicker the drawing, the less amount of time it stuck around.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. That last one was an important point; she found this out after the shack disappeared halfway through the afternoon, just before dusk began to set in. Not even a full day; even less for the bowl she made. It disappeared after a few hours. There was one more point as well that Penelope added to her notes so she would not forget.
  1. There needed to be intent for her power to activate.
Penelope figured out if she drew aimlessly, nothing would come of it, which made things very manageable. She could only imagine what would happen if she started drawing portraits of people as a commission and a doppelganger appeared! The amount of intent also mattered, too. When Penelope was desperate enough to want something and drew it, it would appear. Of course, for a short, weak moment, she thought about counterfeiting some gold or whatever the currency was in this world. And, indeed, she did try ¨C at least making something from her own world. A 100 yen coin would be innocent enough, right? Penelope remembered every possible detail of the coin, having scrimped and saved harder than a super miser over the years to afford the meagre luxuries that she could from the 100 yen store. So whenever she had one in hand, she used to memorize the feel of them, their weight, their thickness and designs¡­ ¡°Man, looking back at it now, I was kind of sad, huh?¡± Penelope commented aloud, a hand to her cheek. Without the fetters of her family and the constant anxiety of awful things happening to her, it seemed surprisingly easy to look back and judge herself. Hindsight truly is 20/20. ¡°Well, this looks real, but¡­.¡± Penelope couldn¡¯t help, but to laugh at the faux metal coin she held. Seemed there was yet another important rule concerning her power:
  1. If she doesn¡¯t know the components of something, the item will appear as something inferior.
How frustrating and fascinating. Penelope could easily bend the metal, which meant it was not a proper 100 yen coin, as she had no idea what kind of metal was used for them. It was a yellow colour and shone brightly in the sun, despite its fake nature. Well, she was for the most part, an honest person, so it was probably better for her in the long run if she didn¡¯t make counterfeits of the local currency. Who knew what sort of consequences she may face. She imagined there was not really any technology here to tell them apart, but if her magical creations had a time limit, then best not to get herself into unnecessary trouble. However, due to the nostalgia of having it, she pocketed the coin to keep as a momento of the day she spent learning about her abilities. ¡°Status Open!¡± she called out, summoning her status screen once more. After everything she went through today, she found that there were other screens besides the main one which displayed her main stats. There was another one for an ability tree, linked to her skills. These were subsets of what she had in Artistry and Imagination, among the others she possessed. For instance: In her ability trees Penelope saw branches that spread out to subset abilities which were named Copy and Create, both at level 1, to Artistry and Imagination respectively. The description under ¡®Copy¡¯ was [An ability to replicate whatever the user sees into a paper drawing.] Trying it out, it was like seeing a photocopy of exactly whatever she saw. She tried it out on the olive tree and got a 1:1 picture on one of her parchments. Because there was no intent behind it, though, she did not receive a second olive tree. However, when she put intent on replicating the bowl she drew before, she got a second one! ¡®Create¡¯ was an ability she accidentally began using since last night. In the proper description it said [An ability to create any subject the user can visualize.] In other words, it was this strange ability that allowed her to create a spot to sleep as well as the other miscellaneous items she created since discovering it. ¡°This is really handy!¡± she said to herself, very pleased that at least she could be comfortable for the time being using these abilities and skills. Cooking and Cleaning had no branching abilities, but she assumed that these were probably normal things to have. She really didn¡¯t understand the whole system yet, but she was sure she¡¯ll get it with time. She did try making food using Create as one of her obvious attempts to test out her ability. Seemed as if that was also limited, currently; Penelope tried to create a Beef Wellington, but since she never had one before, it came out tasting more like a meat pie in texture than whatever it was supposed to be. However when she tried making a simple rice ball that turned out really good! It tasted exactly how she remembered them. Penelope was glad she could have access to that kind of thing from her old home, still. It was plain, but it was much better than eating those nasty olives! She didn¡¯t really consider the ramifications of eating something that could disappear hours later, so she didn¡¯t think too hard about it. As it was, she had a small plate of them beside her as she sat by the olive tree, carefully drawing herself a new place to sleep for the night. It did not need to last long as she intended to finally make way to town now that she had an idea of how her abilities worked, but she did want it to be a bit more comfortable. The young girl included an interior design as well, next to the main drawing of the tent she was making this time. A warm blanket, a soft mat, and a little pillow for her head. Tonight she was going to get another restful night of sleep! It was on her finishing touches that she noticed movement further down the road. As she drew by the light of a simple lantern she drew into existence, another person travelling at night could easily draw anyone¡¯s attention, even an artist like herself who tended to be super engrossed in her work (must be the years of conditioning to watch out for others at play, she thought glumly). Penelope never thought about what would happen if others knew about her ability and figured she could drag out the sketch until she was sure nobody would witness her doing anything strange. She even rearranged herself to sit on the opposite side so it would be more difficult to spot her, turning off her lamp and relying on the moonlight once more to continue drawing. That was the plan anyways. However, fate had a funny way of messing with the best laid ideas. Penelope was interrupted in her work when she heard a body collapse on the other side of the olive tree, right on the road. She froze, clamping her hands over her mouth so she wouldn¡¯t make a sound, concerned that something scary had happened. She waited a few moments, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears. There was no other moment or noise. Do I look? Time seemed to creep by slowly as she struggled to make her decision, worried about being attacked. What if this was a rouse? A ploy to get unwary bystanders to come out and then they got kidnapped? She¡¯d heard more than one story of a good Samaritan coming to a fallen old lady¡¯s rescue or even going to investigate a crying baby on the road to only get kidnapped for nefarious reasons! And that was as an adult. Penelope could only imagine the danger an unknown world with unknown rules possessed for a defenseless little girl. Penelope remained like that a little while longer, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nothing came. Eventually, against her better judgement, she peeked around the tree to have a look and was surprised to see a young boy sprawled face first on the dirt road. His clothes were dirty and bloodied and he seemed quite injured. Just what happened? Had he been chased and battered? If so, where were his pursuers? Penelope had waited quite a bit, but nobody else seemed to come. Or maybe they¡¯re just waiting for me to come out?! Penelope looked around furtively ¨C aside from her olive tree, the area was basically open plains, so there was nowhere really for someone else to hide in waiting to kidnap her. Seeing that boy there and thinking about the risk associated with going to help, she decided she would go and check on the boy. ¡°But not without something to attack with!¡± Thankfully, baseball bats were easy enough to sketch up in a jiffy. It may not be the most hardy of bats, but it would serve its purpose as a defense tool in case something went wrong. Armed with her bat, she left the safety of her olive tree to check on the boy.
Just what in the world possessed me to do this? Penelope thought as she looked at the sleeping boy. After discovering that there was no immediate danger, she decided she couldn¡¯t just let him lay there on the ground to die (though the fear of watching him pass right next to her was also very strong). When she got over her initial uneasiness, she finished the sketch of her tent and extra comfort items, before unceremoniously dragging him over and into it. Good thing she had decided to make it bigger! Penelope was even kind enough to let him have the bedroll and blanket. The night wasn¡¯t that cold and she¡¯d gone without before, though this body wasn¡¯t as used to such conditions (a good thing, she surmised). She simply did not have the energy to make more items. The ground wasn¡¯t that hard and at least the tent kept her from being directly in contact with it. This boy needed it more. Penelope did what she could for him. Cleaning off his skin where she could reach with the water from the pond and a rag she was able to use from his own torn up clothes. She mentally apologized for ruining them a bit more, but his tunic was long enough that it wouldn¡¯t matter so much. And she only just got the dress of her dreams, she wasn¡¯t about to go ripping it up already. The goddesses and this boy could forgive her a bit for being a little selfish. Ah, I haven¡¯t learned at all. I¡¯m still falling back on how I was, she thought to herself. Laying next to the boy without any cushion; it reminded her of nights where she had to stay on the floor because her sister insisted on sleeping in her bed. Her sister¡¯s own room was locked when she was not in there, so it wasn¡¯t like they could simply switch beds and their father was camped out in the living room more often than not. So to the floor she often was, using a pile of unwashed clothes to cushion her sleep. She was doing it again. And yet, that lingering resentment did not fill her as it normally did whenever her sister came to steal her bed, despite having one that was softer, warmer, and comfier than her own little twin that Kasumi had continued to use since first receiving it in childhood. No, it felt¡­proper. This is someone who actually needed help. And Penelope strived to still be a good and proud person who did the right thing, even if it was hard. ¡°Good night,¡± she whispered, curling up on her side of the tent. Sleep did not come immediately, but Penelope eventually drifted off, confident she¡¯d done the right thing.
The world had been on fire for so long, he didn¡¯t know where the pain started or ended anymore. Wandering on the road for so long, just looking for a place of solace, of safety. There was a promise lingering in his heart that drove his feet forward. Above all else, he had to remain safe. Or everything would have been for nothing. But he had been running on empty for so long, it had only been a matter of time before it felt useless to resist the call of rest, of sleep, of oblivion. And before he knew it, he was out cold, laying in the dirt. Alone, bloody and on the brink of death. The pain seeped out of his body, draining away slowly as he lay in the darkness. Was this what dying felt like? Was it always such a restful feeling? A soft light began to break through in front of his eyes, drawing him closer and closer¡­ His eyes softly fluttered open. Above his head fabric stretched across supports from which bright sunlight filtered through. The sound of a bird rang through the air and he felt warm and comfortable. Was this the afterlife? The boy moved to sit up and hissed in pain, almost throwing himself back onto the soft mat he had been laying on. Pain? So, did that mean¡­he survived? He was still alive? Suddenly alert, he whipped his head around, trying to discern where he was. He froze when he sensed movement before seeing it. Another person was in here with him. In his panicked state, he rushed back and away, ignoring the searing pain as he forced his battered body to move away. In doing so, he caused the tent they were in to collapse as the supports were nowhere near strong enough to withstand his weight. The tent toppled, falling down on the both of them like a net and the two of them got tangled. He heard the other person¡¯s voice shrieking and complaining. It was shrill with surprise. A girl¡¯s voice. As they both fought to get out of the mess of a tent, they would unintentionally hit each other. The boy got slapped a good few times (and he was sure he must have hit the girl, too, in his bid to get free). ¡°Calm down! Flailing around like a fish isn¡¯t going to help ¨C hey, ow! Stop hitting me!¡± ¡°You stop hitting me first!¡± ¡°Is this how you act when someone tries to help you?! Argh! I should have left you on the road, you jerk!¡± Eventually the two of them escaped the collapsed tent, puffing and worse for the wear. The boy remained by the tent, nursing himself, while the girl retreated to a nearby olive tree, still in a tizzy. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and bedraggled, just taking in each other in the morning sun. She was younger than him, maybe 9 or 10 years old, judging from her height alone. There was baby fat still present in her cheeks. She looked clean and well cared for, as far as he knew. A noble¡¯s child, maybe? But no, that didn¡¯t make sense, he thought, why would the child of a noble be all alone in the middle of nowhere? Then again, he was not exactly one to talk. ¡°Hey,¡± she called out, drawing his attention to her clear blue eyes. She looked at him so directly, he almost wanted to look away. How could someone have such a straightforward gaze? ¡°You seem pretty energetic. Guess you¡¯re not that hurt.¡± The reminder of his injuries made him wince a little. She tilted her head. ¡°Or maybe you are? Dummy. Here, let me have a look¡­¡± She came over to him, looking pretty unlady-like crossing the distance on her hands and knees. Definitely not the daughter of a noble ¨C at least not one he knew. The girl settled down in front of him holding out her hand, expecting something. ¡°Come on,¡± she coaxed, pushing her hand closer. ¡°Let me see where it hurts.¡± The boy remained unmoving, just staring at the hand. After a long pause, the girl sighed at him. ¡°What? You don¡¯t talk to strangers? All right, then I¡¯ll introduce myself! My name is Penelope, what¡¯s your name?¡± The hand she held out now had a different connotation, somehow seemingly more inviting than before. She smiled sweetly at him and he honestly felt embarrassed looking at her face. He looked away and said nothing. ¡°Come on now. Don¡¯t tell me nobody ever taught you manners?¡± she asked, voice teasing. I do have manners, he thought petulantly. However, he really couldn¡¯t be saying who he was. Who knew who this girl really was¡­ ¡°I¡¯m¡­U¡­.Uh¡­Yule.¡± ¡°Yule?¡± she repeated, as if she couldn¡¯t quite believe what she heard. ¡®Yule¡¯ sucked in a breath, staring down the little girl in front of him until she just smiled and accepted it. ¡°Nice to meet you, Yule!¡±
What¡¯s with that obviously fake name? Is this kid some kind of criminal or something? Somehow, she managed to convince the boy named ¡®Yule¡¯ into letting him check him over. Yule was an older boy, probably on the cusp of adolescence, if not already in it. A boy with slightly mussed platinum hair and careful, cautious periwinkle eyes that followed everything she did. And he was very injured. And as far as Penelope knew, she was not blessed with healing abilities. However she did have an idea in mind, though she felt bad that Yule was going to be a guinea pig for her next set of experiments concerning her unusual abilities. But! It would benefit him greatly, if it worked. If it didn¡¯t, well, Penelope had back-up plans. Her powers activated if she had intent and could visualize it. So maybe if she thought about it hard enough, she could magically heal Yule¡¯s wounds! The mind was a powerful thing, after all ¨C it was all mind over matter! Pulling out one of her softer pieces of charcoal, she set to taking care of the worst of his injuries. Yule tried inching away from her, as if she were about to take a knife to him, but she was not having any of it. Besides, compared to how her little sister had been in her old life, dealing with a sulky, overly cautious boy like Yule was a piece of cake! Her sister used to bite, kick and scream just from having alcohol applied to small cuts! No way was she letting Yule get away from her aid so easily! Penelope was small, but tenacious, holding his hand as she wrote down the word for ¡®heal¡¯ in Japanese on his cut up arm. Yule, not knowing what the characters were, kept trying to pull away more, even going so far as shoving his good hand into her face to keep her away. ¡°Just what are you doing, you weird girl?!¡± Penelope had to resist to bite his fingers digging into her cheek. ¡°Trying to heal you up, you dummy!¡± Once she got the word written down, she slapped her hand over the spot none too gently and closed her eyes, chanting ¡®heal¡¯ over and over in her head, thinking really hard on his body mending itself. Muscles knitting back together, bones no longer being sore. A small golden light emanated from under her hand before fading quickly. It was honestly a shocking moment for the two of them. Yule, because he was not sure what he was seeing, and Penelope, because she was surprised her crazy idea actually worked. However, pulling her hand away, she was disappointed to see that it did minimal change. The skin was healed, but there was still evidence of an injury. Looked like she needed to do this a bit more. ¡°What did you do? It doesn¡¯t hurt anymore,¡± Yule asked, stunned. Penelope wasn¡¯t sure what she¡¯d done herself. ¡°I¡­I healed you, obviously!¡± Not so obviously, I barely understood what I did!!! ¡°But hey, it worked, right Yule! Now hold still as I heal you all over!¡± ¡°Wh¡ªNo, waiiiiiiiiiii¡ª!¡± ¡°Now, now, don¡¯t be shy, take off your shirt and let Miss Penelope take care of all your wounds~¡± ¡°Aaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!¡± In the end, Penelope used up two whole charcoal sticks to take care of Yule¡¯s injuries until she was satisfied. By doing this she discovered two things: words worked as well as fast doodles did and that Yule was a very mysterious boy. ¡°So why were you so hurt?¡± she asked, bringing out some rice balls from her satchel to share. ¡°It¡¯s none of your business,¡± Yule replied while inspecting the rice ball. ¡°¡­.¡± It was like this the whole time she was healing his body. No matter what question she asked he said it was either none of her business or simply looked away sullenly. All she managed to get from him was his (dubious) name, his age (14) and that he came from ¡®far away¡¯. Not that she was any better. ¡°Why are you out here, you weird girl?¡± ¡°I¡­.ran away from home?¡± she replied, uncertainly as he gave her the most bombastic side eye. No, wait, he was looking at her directly with suspicion! ¡°Oh, and by the way¡­my name is Penelope! Pen-el-o-pe!¡± ¡°¡­Weird girl.¡± Penelope sighed. It was going to be another long day, wasn¡¯t it? CHAPTER 3 – The Artist Travels For the First Time Penelope and Yule had come to an accord. They would not pry into the other¡¯s private matters, the two children decided to rely on the other until they safely reached the next town. While Penelope took care of their shelter and food (with questioning looks from Yule), Yule supplied her specific knowledge about the world of Iralon¨¦ that Tulilith had not deigned to give her under the guise of being a foreigner who knew nothing of the local culture. It''s a good thing that Yule isn¡¯t asking about what country I¡¯m from, because I don¡¯t know enough to make a plausible lie, she thought to herself that morning as they packed up. ¡°Here you go,¡± Yule said, handing over the folded tent. ¡°Thanks, Yule!¡± It had been too big for her to fold up on her own, so Yule did the job for her, though the job left something to be desired. The folding was too lumpy for her taste. Reminded her of a child¡¯s work. Oh, wait, he is a kid, wasn¡¯t he? And Penelope had hated the backhanded comments made by her mother unless she did anything perfectly, so she kept her mouth shut. Penelope simply just smoothed over the folded material before stuffing it into her bag. It''s lucky I put a lot of effort into drawing the tent so it didn¡¯t disappear right away. It¡¯s harder to explain than how my ¡®healing¡¯ works. ¡°So, tell me more about Birain, Yule! Is it a big country?¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s a monarchy ruled by the Raviseul family¡­¡± Birain was the name of the country the goddess of Tulilith dropped her off at, and with good reason. In Birain they worshipped the merciful Goddess of Rebirth with a variety of temples located all over the country with some nobles even having a chapel of their own to the goddess in their homes. The royal family of Birain had the biggest temple located within the same city as their castle. It is said that the royal family was blessed by the goddess and that the rulers were reincarnations of previous ones, returning to continue their reigns. ¡°That¡¯s interesting. So you think the current king might be one of his great-great-great-great-great-great grandfathers?¡± Penelope wondered aloud. ¡°Probably not. Our country wouldn¡¯t be in such turmoil if that was the case.¡± ¡°¡­¡± These were the kinds of things they discussed as they made their way to town, headed in the direction Yule had been travelling to before he passed out on the road. The boy had a slightly faster stride due to his longer legs and Penelope had a time keeping up, yet her spirits were not dampened. Her whole body felt joy from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as she put one foot in front of the other. The sun was shining down on her, warming her skin and lighting her way. Her steps were so light she walked beside Yule, learning more and more and more about Birain. She was practically humming as she skipped along. Yule looked at her like she had two heads, but didn¡¯t mention her overtly cheerful demeanor. Penelope wondered at this lovely, invigorating feeling. Hokusai Kasumi had lived in the dark and died in the dark. The sun had not yet rose when she left her home to head out to her next job, so she had forgotten what it was like to bask in the sun. She spread her arms out and ran forward, feeling a boost of energy, laughing as she whirled around with her travelling companion watching her every move. Yule had tensed when he saw her rushed towards him, but calmed himself when he saw she was just playing around. His brows furrowed as she joyfully took in the sun. ¡°You seem to be having fun,¡± Yule stated levelly, breaking into Penelope¡¯s revelry. She grinned back at him, unperturbed. ¡°Well, yeah. This is my first time travelling during the day. My first trip really!¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you were a foreigner? How did you get here, if not by travelling?¡± ¡°Urk--!¡± Laughing that off, Penelope continued onward, pointedly ignoring that line of questioning. Yule simply sighed and continued the march forward. ¡°The town we are headed to is Ceralde. I was trying to head there since I have...people waiting. If we keep this pace up we can reach there by nightfall.¡± ¡°Really, that long? But¡­¡± She looked upwards. She was no expert, but by her estimation, then that would be several hours away. Did he really think she would keep up a march that long without a break? She may have (un)happily done that in her old life out of necessity, but in this life she would put her foot down! ¡°No, no, no,¡± Penelope began, ¡°we should take a break!¡± ¡°No, we should keep walking, it¡¯s not that far.¡± ¡°Not a chance, we will be exhausted when we get there.¡± ¡°Just keep walking, you.¡± ¡°Just for that I¡¯m taking a break right here!¡± ¡°Huh?!¡± And, just like that, Penelope stubbornly sat herself down. Yule just stared at her incredulously. Penelope crossed her arms and stared back defiantly. Meanwhile, mentally. What the Hell am I doing?! Why am I acting like some bratty kid?! This is the kind of move my sister would do! Oh, man he¡¯s going to be so mad. Aaaaaargh! And things were going so well. What if he starts yelling at me¡ª As thoughts of doom and gloom swirled in her mind, Yule was considering his options silently. He could just leave the girl behind. She was an ignorant foreign girl who would most likely be nothing, but trouble for him. He had a feeling that this strange girl was not as she seemed (as if he was one to talk). And yet, he couldn¡¯t quite abandon her at all. As bizarre as she was, Penelope did rescue him. Turning around, he reached out to her, calling her name to draw her out of her spiraling thoughts. ¡°Penelope.¡± ¡°!!!¡± She drew her eyes upwards, meeting his calm gaze. ¡°Are you tired?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Come on, then. I¡¯ll carry you.¡± ¡°Huh?!¡± The older boy crouched down in front of her, his back wide open to her. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t make me say it again. If you¡¯re tired I¡¯ll carry you.¡± Penelope stared, mouth agape. Out of all the reactions to her little tantrum, this was highly unexpected! She expected him to get angry, yell, shout, maybe scold her a little not just¡­man, such an action made her feel very shy. Just what was he playing at. And the flustered feeling made her a little upset with him. ¡°Carry me?! You were knocking on death¡¯s door not long ago.¡± Instead of responding, he simply turned around and scooped the girl up into his arms, much to her surprise. Penelope was too shocked to struggle at first, not believing what just happened. And he was only a few years older ¨C all right, sure, he was a bit taller, but how could someone barely in his teen years be strong enough to carry her after suffering so much like that? ¡°¡­Dummy.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just settle down. We¡¯ll take a proper break once we find some shade.¡± ¡°¡­All right.¡± Just what else could she say when he was being so calm and mature? Shade came in the form of a small grove of trees. There were some stumps and fallen logs, so there were plenty of places to sit. At that point, Penelope thought it would be a good idea to have lunch. Thankfully she still had more rice balls (and a bunch of raw olives, but she didn¡¯t want to eat those if she could help it). As with breakfast, she shared some with Yule so he could keep up his strength. Just like the other time, he stared at the food as Penelope happily munched away. She couldn¡¯t help, but to comment, ¡°You know, it¡¯s not going to bite you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just¡­I¡¯ve never had anything like this before.¡± ¡°Whoa, really?! These are so common from my home land, though.¡± ¡°Wait, so you brought this all the way from the country you¡¯re from and you¡¯re sharing it so casually with me?¡± ¡°Huh? Why do you sound so mad about it?!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not mad!¡± ¡°Yes, you are!¡± Wow, did every conversation they had to have wind up in shouting?! And yet, Penelope didn¡¯t feel the same heart wrenching shortness of breath she had sometimes, when someone would raise their voice. It was strange. Maybe it was because Yule was a child, so she didn¡¯t feel as threatened. This didn¡¯t feel like an argument, either, just¡­two people communicating (albeit badly) in their own way, facing each other as honestly as two strangers could. It was funny, how she finally got to be childish again. ¡°So¡­why Ceralde? You said you had someone waiting for you there¡­is there any other reason, Yule?¡± ¡°Well, as far as things go, it¡¯s the town farthest from the conflict in the capital.¡± Penelope blinked at that. ¡°Conflict in the capital?¡± she parroted. Yule sighed deeply. ¡°Wow, you really are a foreign girl. Exactly where did you come from originally?¡± His voice seemed half scolding, half laughing. ¡°Well, since you don¡¯t seem to know, there¡¯s a bit of a royal upheaval right now in Birain, so I¡¯m sorry you had to be visiting when things are so chaotic. But you should be safe in Ceralde, though. I promise.¡± His words seem strangely sincere as he said that, staring straight at her with those periwinkle eyes until he couldn¡¯t take it anymore, looking away to finish his rice ball. Penelope felt touched. Whatever circumstances had him running from the capital, it was kind of him to think about her safety in his homeland. ¡°So royal upheaval¡­did the king get overthrown or something?¡± ¡°Not¡­exactly. I don¡¯t know all the details, but it¡¯s a problem of succession.¡± ¡°Oh, so, like a queen having machinations against a concubine and her son or something like that?¡± Yule shook his head. ¡°If it were just that, it¡¯d be a lot simpler¡­You know how in Birain we worship the Goddess of Rebirth? Well, it extends all the way to how we determine the right of rulers in our country.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Sounds complicated.¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°Can you tell me more?¡± Yule turned his gaze skyward, considering things for a few moments before nodding solemnly. ¡°If you¡¯re going to be in Birain for a while, you should learn as much as you can about it so you can stay out of trouble. Come on. I¡¯ll tell you more as we walk.¡± His hand was offered to her and Penelope took it, letting him help her to her feet. As if he had taken it into consideration, he did not let go of her hand and instead walked beside her, at her pace, so she wouldn¡¯t need to run, skip and trot to keep up with him. At that rate there was no way they would reach town, but Yule seemed less agitated by the thought. As they resumed their journey, he began telling her a story. ¡°So, let me tell you a bit about the founding history of Birain.¡±
A long, long, long time ago, the land of Birain had come under great crisis. The people had not yet been united under one ruler and were a collection of smaller villages scattered along the shorelines of the eastern continent with their own individual chiefs. When a calamity came down from the heavens, a great darkness overcame all of Birain. From that darkness came beasts and monsters, which ravaged the country and the people. Hope came in the form of the goddess Tulilith, who saw the plight of humanity and came down to give them a message: ¡°One day, a great hero will be among your folk, one with powers unlike what you have ever seen and he will lead you to a brighter future.¡± It was with this message, that the people searched far and wide, for ten whole years for their saviour that could save them from this pervasive darkness and the dangers that came with it. Far and wide did they search for this promised hero, until they found him, a simple hunter tending his bow in a place that would one day become the great capital of the kingdom of Birain. His name was Ionian Laertes Raviseul and upon his defeat of the great darkness, he became king of Birain. It was said that he was a strange man, with ideas and concepts many had never heard of before. Concepts which brought Birain much prosperity and growth. He was a peaceful man and led his people fairly and justly. The people adored him, their hero king. But as with all good things do, they must end, and King Ionian Laertes Raviseul died, without ever having an heir. Succession of the kingdom tore it apart, as many vied for the position that Ionian had left behind. Swords clashed within the halls of the castle where Ionian once lived. As blood continued to shed, the goddess Tulilith made an appearance once more, in order to quell the greedy hearts of men who coveted what was not theirs. She declared that Ionian Laertes Raviseul would return as king. Not as himself, but as a new being. Reborn anew into this world; different, but no less strong than his previous incarnation. They must simply seek him out once more, for she would accept no other as king of Birain. But how could it be proven that Ionian was truly himself and not an imposter? Surely many would step up claiming that their children only just born could be their king returned, in an effort to garner more power and prestige. For this, Tulilith had declared that to be a candidate one must fulfill one of two simple requirements: ¡°The one worthy of the throne of Birain will be a being reborn into this world. That can be proven by the colour of their eyes, as those who have been reborn will share the same colour as my own.¡± With her first decree, anyone with clear blue eyes as blue as the goddess¡¯, would be one with a reborn soul. A gem was gifted to those who would perform the tests, that matched the goddess¡¯ eyes exactly. A gem that rested upon the scepter of the king to this very day. Her other requirement became a second holy decree in which judgement was passed for a candidate of kinghood: Ionian¡¯s old weapon, a bow, had been blessed by the three goddesses of fate. Rosileve, who weaved the future, made it so that only Ionian could string and draw the bow, or a member of his kin could, should his spirit not yet be ready to return. A failsafe, in case it was an age where Ionian did not return. These were the simple requirements to become king and when the first reincarnation of Ionian was found, the people rejoice as peace would at last return to them. This cycle lasted for a few generations in which Ionian ruled in his new form, died and then would be found and crowned once more. By the sixth iteration of Ionian, the bloodlines he left behind became jealous of each other. Being the sons and daughters of Ionian in his varied reborn existences, they all laid claim to the throne, stating that the way of seeking out Ionian¡¯s new existence and placing him back on the throne was useless now. Ionian¡¯s bloodlines existed in six different houses now. Surely, one of them had more of a right to the throne than the others? So they all began to conspire each of them to take the throne for themselves. First, the royal scepter was stolen when the search by the temple for the next king began. Each family blamed each other, calling the other unworthy until the scepter was found. Next, the gem upon the scepter mysteriously changed one day. From the clearest blue, to the deepest green, a shade much closer to the second family¡¯s bloodline. A ploy to sway favour towards their family. Of course, they were called cheats and scoundrels. Yet this time, the gem was not returned to its original form. Rather, every day for ten days, the gem of the royal scepter changed colour, making it impossible to judge by the goddess¡¯ requirements. There was hope that it would return as members of the temple put pressure upon the great houses to return the stolen gem. Yet the holy blue gem given unto them by the goddess was no longer anywhere to be found, lost. And so began the civil war between the six great houses of Birain that lasted to this day. Of course, there were times of peace, where a ruler rose up and kept the others under control, but there were just as many times when war among the factions broke out. Birain was a land of unsteady treaties within itself¡­ ¡°¡­Right now the only families still in power are those of the first family, and the sixth family. The first family, the Raviseuls had been the ones in charge as one of their ascended the throne about 40 years ago. The sixth family, backed up by the smaller, less powerful factions, ganged up on them and staged a coup and it¡¯s been a mess ever since.¡± ¡°Wow, I see¡­¡± That all seemed very complicated and a lot to take in, Penelope thought as she continued walking alongside Yule. Tulilith certainly put her in both the worst and best place. Tulilith trusted that a country that worshipped her couldn¡¯t possibly be a bad place for Penelope to start her new life, but then again, she must have bene very out of touch to pick a place known for its inability to get along internally. ¡°Thanks for telling me, Yule.¡± ¡°Hn.¡± As succinct as always, huh? ¡°Say, Yule? You seem to know a lot. Were you a scholar or something before you ran away from home?¡± ¡°¡­It¡¯s not a big deal. Almost everyone from here knows this stuff.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± His tone of voice told her that he didn¡¯t want her going any further with that line of questioning. Too bad, she wanted to hear a bit more about him, but it seemed like he would remain guarded with her. Well, it was good to know a bit more about the land she was in. Well, that settled it; there was no way that Penelope would think to get anywhere near any possible bloodshed. According to Yule, the infighting hadn¡¯t spread far into the costal areas, which was where they were. The road they took was headed to Ceralde, a port town. If Penelope so chose, she could take a boat to head somewhere far away to escape the possibility of getting dragged into war. After all, she¡¯d only been alive in this world for less than a week and she did not fancy dying so soon and meeting Tulilith again so quickly. Thinking on how to avoid the conflict, her fingers squeezed Yule¡¯s in unbidden anxiety. Yule took notice of it, but said nothing as they kept on walking. More hours passed as they traveled, the daylit sky turning into dusk once more. Neither Penelope of Yule could see even the barest hint of civilization. Stopping for breaks and going at a pace more comfortable for Penelope¡¯s younger body meant they hadn¡¯t reached their goal. Penelope apologized as they found a spot to set up camp again. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry, Yule. It¡¯s my fault we haven¡¯t gotten to Ceralde yet.¡± There was barely any emotion when he responded, ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯m sorry for not realizing you¡¯re just a little girl.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not that little!¡± Penelope protested with a pout. ¡°I¡¯m ten! I¡¯m all grown up.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not even close to being grown up.¡± ¡°W¡­well it¡¯s grown up where I am.¡± A fib, but somehow she couldn¡¯t really mentally connect with the fact that she was in a child¡¯s body just yet. She¡¯d been almost 40 only a few days ago. Mentally she was a middle-aged woman, so for her, she considered herself an adult. ¡°Your homeland must be a very sad place if ten years old is grown up. Girls in Birain aren¡¯t allowed to be engaged until they¡¯re sixteen and that¡¯s only with the permission of that girl¡¯s parents.¡± Oh, that was surprising. Penelope had the impression she had fallen into a world similar to some kind of medieval/fantasy novel. ¡°Is¡­is that so? So what age is adulthood?¡± Yule huffed at her, as if the answer would be obvious. ¡°Majority is eighteen years old. This was established by one of the former kings, King Roosevelt Laertes Raviseul, after he was sworn in as a king, and adopted by almost the whole world as a widespread law. Seriously, you weird girl, you really know nothing, huh?¡± Penelope bit her tongue, holding back something scathing from coming out as she knew the boy couldn¡¯t help the curt way in which he spoke. Teen boys really were the worst at communicating, after all. She just set up the lamp for their camp and got to serving them rice balls again for their dinner that day (with a few raw, but pitted, olives shoved into Yule¡¯s share because she was a little mad at him). As they laid in the tent together that night, him taking the blanket while she got the bedroll, the little girl hoped she could find a way to learn more about this world and that the next day would see them finally reach true safety.
Never had Yule met anyone so ignorant in all of his life. Or maybe, perhaps, the better description should be na?ve? Sheltered? The world of Iralon¨¦ was not exactly the most peaceful world and he could not imagine any country out there that could be so peaceful as to create a child like Penelope. Even most sheltered of noble children had a bite to them, a cautiousness and suspicion. Everyone was out to gain. Yet, Penelope did not have a single thought about gaining, other than to learn information that she lacked that practically everyone else should already know. Perhaps he shared a bit more information than was necessary, but whether it was the far-off country of Exund or their neighbour Ivaren, everyone knew the story of Birain¡¯s rulers. It often was presented as a fairy tale, a flight of fancy to explain the unusual way in which Birain chose its rulers and to explain away the bloody history that was born from the capriciousness of a goddess. To Yule who felt the most bitter about his own situation, he envied Penelope who didn¡¯t seem to have a care in the world. What kind of life did she lead, that she could walk so carelessly with a stranger? It had only been a few days, but the impression he had of her was a child who truly knew no hardship. Yet, he could not find it in himself to be too unkind or cruel. Her sudden tantrum surprised him, making his mind need to do a mental reset on how he interacted with her. Sure, she was a stranger, but for the moment, she was his benefactor (loathe as he was to rely on a girl younger than him) and companion; the journey actually felt more bearable with her by his side. Yule knew he could go alone, but it just felt more fun. Yes, even with all the times they started shouting at each other, startling each other and generally being nuisances to one another, Yule was having fun. His life as Ulysses Laertes Raviseul had never been so carefree. For her sake, he should cut off all ties once they got to safety, because getting involved with him could lead to some very serious dangers for the girl in the future. He was to meet his contact in Ceralde and then be taken into custody of his family¡¯s retainers, as the remaining heir of the first great family of Birain. As the only son of the former king, he would be targeted until he could safely reach adulthood when he could reclaim his birthright, no matter what some stupid trinket said. No matter the claims other may have. It should never justify the death of others, yet that was the bloodied history of the rulers of Birain. Coup d¡¯etats, political intrigue, backstabbing, betrayals and massacres. The people who vied for the throne were cruel, even if they ruled over the people fairly. But more often than not, they were cruel to the people, too. What person in their right mind would dispose of others so callously in order to secure their power? It all disgusted Ulysses. Well, for the moment, he was Yule. A simple boy who had run away from difficult circumstances, travelling beside Penelope, a strange girl from another land. He wanted to do right by her, for the short time they would be together. His pride as a royal dictated he should repay her guileless kindness, so he made sure to keep pace with her, holding her hand to facilitate that more easily. He used to walk in front of others, leading the way, because that was always his position. Walking beside someone at such a sedate pace was foreign to him. It wasn¡¯t bad, though. But she was very weird. Her magic, for example, was unlike anything he had ever seen. As a prince, he studied many subjects, magic being one of them. Magic was executed in one of two ways: incantations or magic circles. Never in his life had he ever seen someone just draw directly on skin and then mumble ¡®please heal¡¯ in order to cast any healing magic. He supposed, at its core, she did make a drawing and she did chant (plead) for it to work, but for it to actually work!? He was pretty sure the way magic worked in Birain should be true in other countries, too, so what was even going on? One of the things he would need to explain to Penelope was to hide how she cast her magic. If not the method itself, but also in the fact that she healed him. Healing magic was considered a holy ability and was heavily monitored by the temples of the goddesses. Every child who showed potential was immediately seized without discrimination. Many families were torn apart whenever the potential for healing appeared in an individual, at least in Birain this was highly true. More than once had a representative of the temples become a king of Birain, allowing the temple control over state affairs at times. Those were some of the most oppressive moments in Birain history, all because of what healing magic meant. Those blessed by Tulilith, the goddess of rebirth, had the ability to heal. Without fail, those who had been reborn by her grace had that power, which made them easy candidates to become ruler, because they would naturally have the clear eyes similar to that of the goddess. Penelope had such eyes, he mused. Something else she must learn to hide once they got close to town. Yes, he would need to have a word with her, before things got complicated for them. For her, he mentally corrected. Once he met his contact they would part ways and he would do this as one last kindness for his benefactor. Penelope was an innocent girl. She did not deserve to get kidnapped and brainwashed to do the bidding of others or used for other nefarious deeds. There had been a rash of kidnappings of children to be sold into slavery, too. Damn, but his kingdom was such a mess since the coup that ousted him from his childhood home. Truly, it was such a shame that the little girl had come at such a time. His homeland was always in a state of tension, but nowhere near as bad as it was right now. So much to fix, so little time. At the moment, though, he would take things one step at a time. His current mission was to bring himself and Penelope safely to Ceralde. Her hand squeezed his and he turned to meet her clear gaze. Such a soft colour. So these were the supposed eyes of the goddess. They were showing him concern. He made a little noise of reassurance, before looking away. What lovely eyes, he thought to himself, as they continued on their way together. CHAPTER 4 – The Artist Goes to Town Penelope¡¯s eyes widened as they finally settled upon the town of Ceralde. Yule had suggested she wear the blanket they had as a sort of cloak before entering town. She had asked why and was simply told that there were dangerous types who¡¯d pluck up a little girl like her and sell her off as her eyes were a kind of rarity that would interest buyers of slaves, even if she was weird. He didn¡¯t have to add that last part in, she thought sulkily, but she did as she was told. It was a bit shocking to her that slavery existed in this world and when she voiced her concern, Yule explained that it was very much illegal in Birain, but some foreign lands still partook of such barbaric practices, especially of non-human races. That last part caught her curiosity and rather than explaining, Yule just advised her to stay polite and alert as they entered Ceralde. Ceralde was a town by the sea. The closer they got to Ceralde, the more salt Penelope could smell in the air. She¡¯d never seen the sea before (a fact she wisely kept to herself, in case she made Yule more suspicious of her cover story) and hearing the waves gently lapping up the nearby shore and the salty breeze tickling her nose made her feel unreasonably happy. ¡°We are going to the beach, Kasumi. Don¡¯t forget to finish all the chores while we¡¯re gone.¡± This was something said to her very often since she was very young. Not just the beach, but a variety of other fun places that her sister got to go to with the rest of their family. It was always reasoned that someone needed to stay home. Who would look after the house? Who was going to keep up the cleanliness of the house? Dad was the patriarch of the family, so it was not up to him. Mom worked hard already, so she deserved to have time off. And her sister was a child. Penelope wondered what they were all doing now. Were they all having fun without her? What happened to her original body? Was it buried respectfully by now? Don¡¯t think about it too hard. That¡¯s your old life... There was a soft, sad joy in seeing and being in a new place. You are not where you once were, yet you will come to know and learn of someplace new and exciting. Honestly, now that she was truly here, with plenty of people milling about instead of empty night streets or the seemingly endless stretch of road, Penelope felt a little overstimulated. Everything was so new and she silently thanked Yule for keeping hold of her hand since she kept getting distracted by everything. There were several stalls open, selling all kinds of food and wares. Penelope was delighted to be able to recognize some of the fruits on display. Peaches and apples! It was both a disappointment and a relief ¨C wasn¡¯t this supposed to be a whole other world? The thought was wry, but the feeling in her chest at finding such familiar things was reassuring, though this did bring up a certain problem she hadn¡¯t thought about for a little while¡­as nice as it would be to have these items, they didn¡¯t have money. While Penelope knew she could just draw the fruit into existence, she felt like using her mana on making pieces of fruit may be something of a waste, at least until she got stronger. She was a baby level 1 and there were 99 other levels she could ascend to, right? At the very least, the people were different. That is, there were more races around than just humans, hammering the fact she had truly landed in another world. People with the heads of beasts, some with avian wings, and people tremendously tall and seriously small. The little girl could not pinpoint who or what these beings reminded her of, but they certainly added to the other world atmosphere for her. ¡°Yule, I¡¯ve never seen a person with wings before!¡± ¡°That¡¯s a Sylph,¡± Yule explained, continuing to lead them both somewhere through the crowds out in the market. ¡°And that person with a dog¡¯s head?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a Cyno, a subrace of Beastmen.¡± ¡°Ooh!¡± ¡°Really, what kind of country did you come from, exactly? Let¡¯s hurry along.¡± ¡°But I want to keep looking.¡± ¡°Later, Penelope.¡± It was probably a bit rude to be gawking, but this kind of thing was only seen in movies on Earth. Penelope thought she would have accepted it easily enough, but she still wound up acting like a slack-jawed tourist. Hopefully no one was offended by how amazed she was to see such people in person. At least she kept her hands to herself and didn¡¯t reach out to brush up against the wing of a passing Sylph, as strong as the urge was. Right now, she turned her gaze towards the buildings and possible landmarks. Many were made out of brick and mortar, no higher than two stories, for the most part, with many wooden windows with simple glass panes. The town was what Penelope would say was rustic in nature, but definitely busy. There were only a handful of buildings taller than most of the shops and homes along the main street and the girl could only guess at their importance. It was around this point that she had a realization: while she could understand and respond in the same language as Yule (and, by assumed extension, everyone else in this world), Penelope couldn¡¯t read anything on the signs that she saw. Oh, that wasn¡¯t good. Literacy was an important skill. She couldn¡¯t even figure out what each character or symbol happened to be. Would Yule be willing to teach her a few characters, if she asked? It would keep her out of future trouble from walking into the wrong establishment, if she could read the signs. For the moment Penelope played a mental game of image association. After all, words were another type of artform and she was a lover of all art, so she should study the shapes of each character for the moment and link them to anything she saw. For instance, she saw a series of foreign characters over a shop whose wares she could see from the window. Colorful fabrics inside, next to display of clothes. So, she thought, this might be a clothing store or even a tailor¡¯s shop. Yes, yes, she could easily deduce things like this, if she remained observant. No need to bother Yule just yet with prying questions as he was preoccupied taking them somewhere in town. Seemed as if he wasn¡¯t sure the location of where he needed to meet his contact was within Ceralde and he did not seem inclined to ask around. The older boy even looked around with great suspicion on his face, frowning heavily. A good amount of people moved out of the way of the glare he gave off as he walked hand-in-hand with her. You know, if I were them and Yule wasn¡¯t making such a sourpuss face, the moment I saw two kids walking around I¡¯d help them out. ¡°Say, Yule, where are you trying to go?¡± Penelope asked, still looking at the hanging signs and the shops associated with them to figure out what they might be. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a shop,¡± he replied, eyes roving around intensely. ¡°There I will meet who I¡¯m supposed to and we can get you looked after, too.¡± Looked after? Yule considered what would happened to her? That was a nice gesture of him. Penelope had been wondering what she would do and had considered sleeping outside of town again, in her tent, but if she could have a proper place to rest, it could only benefit her. ¡°What are they like?¡± she asked. ¡°Weird¡­not as weird as you, but weird.¡± Kid really likes using that word, huh? Another shop passed beside them; a person was cutting hair inside, trimming quickly and expertly. Above the door a sign hung and Penelope quickly memorized it, guessing at the exact wording that could have been used; would it be a salon or a barber shop? ¡°Well, weird how? Do they like to eat little kids or something?¡± Yule¡¯s hand tensed around her and she couldn¡¯t help, but to balk, her mind spiraling with all kinds of conspiracy theories. What the hell?! Say something, dummy! Don¡¯t leave me hanging, thinking I might walk into a child eating monster¡¯s den! Trying to keep her calm, Penelope said, ¡°Oh, that can¡¯t be it, right?¡± Silence. ¡°Right?¡± He said nothing. ¡°Riiiiiiiight?¡± Yule pointedly chose not to look her in the eye, which did nothing to assuage her worries. Memories of when she first spotted him at night by the olive tree and the variety of theories she had about his presence came to mind. Though he was cleaned up now, he was still pretty raggedy in appearance, compared to her. Had he been fooling her this whole time? Garnering her sympathy just so he could take her to some dastardly person ready to grab her and sell her off? Whatever she was thinking must have been obvious on her face as Yule¡¯s own expression turned perplexed. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking, it¡¯s definitely not that.¡± ¡°How would you know?¡± ¡°You¡¯re so weird,¡± Yule breathed out in exasperation, suddenly letting go of her hand. Being bereft of his firm, but gentle grasp left Penelope reeling for a few loops until she realized he let go of her because she felt uncomfortable. Guilt and confusion sprung up to replace the paranoia. Yule pointed at a sign she did not recognize, to a building just at the end of the market street. ¡°Here it is. Try not to act so suspicious, all right?¡± On second thought, Penelope decided to throw guilt out the proverbial window. Penelope looked up at the sign, then at the window display. The inside of the store was dim, with a huge selection of books that she could see nearest the window. Was this a book store of some kind? She entered after Yule did, eyes peeled and on high alert. A little bell rang as they opened the door. Penelope looked up briefly, seeing the bell held afloat, not by a string or metal or anything. It simply floated gently in the air, waiting to be struck by some unseen thing whenever someone entered the store. She wondered if some kind of magic was doing this. She could smell a spicy scent; it reminded her of cinnamon. The walls had shelves upon shelves of books. A few tables were in the middle of the main shop room, with odd and strange contraptions and knickknacks. At the very back was a desk and an empty high backed chair. ¡°What is this place?¡± ¡°This is a magic shop, my dear,¡± spoke an older, female voice. Yule had no surprise as a woman in deep green robes came to greet them, appearing as if from thin air. Penelope was startled, yelping in surprise. The woman, with dark hair drawn back into a bun and curious brown eyes looking at the two of them behind wire-rimmed glasses, tipped her head in a small greeting. ¡°My, my, my,¡± she began, voice filled with intrigue. She came out from behind the chair and moved forward to inspect both of the children. Penelope felt extremely nervous under her intent stare. ¡°What do we have here?¡± the woman breathed with a curious smile.
¡°My name is Minerva Riverthorn. I am¡­Yule¡¯s aunt.¡± The woman introduced herself to Penelope with a broad smile as Yule quietly stood off to the side. A quick explanation went all around, about who Minerva was and who Penelope was, though many details were omitted on both sides. ¡°You say you were traveling?¡± Minerva had inquired. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Penelope had replied, smiling. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± A silence, followed up another line of questioning that gently got sidestepped. ¡°So, um, Madame Riverthorn¡­¡± ¡°Minerva, please.¡± ¡°Madame Minerva.¡± ¡°Just Minerva.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± It went something along those lines when a question no one really wanted to answer came up. However, Penelope did learn some solid information about Yule and Minerva, gleaned carefully from listening to the right parts of their conversation. All the years of carefully listening to the words of people who had no problem hurting her in order to avoid conflict paid off, in its own sad way. Minerva Riverthorn, the sister of Yule¡¯s mother, was a mage who had long been living far from the rest of her family. She was considered strange by practically everyone in her family, aside from her sister, because she chose to stray from the path her family normally took and became independent store owner. She relocated to Ceralde some years ago in order to get away from everyone¡¯s nagging, too. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. They were seated in one of the backrooms, after Minerva locked the store door and put up a closed sign. The area was homey and well lived-in; several bottles and other odds and ends littering the walls. Were they something like potions? Penelope couldn¡¯t help, but to look around curiously and in quiet amazement. Her eyes must be so wide. Yule seemed used to this space, though, as he had prepared drinks after being prompted by Minerva and he found things easily. Well, it¡¯s to be expected, if he walked all the way from the capital to Ceralde, Penelope thought, drinking a juice prepared for her, he must have known the way. What a smart kid. He must be the kind of kid who excels in school. Minerva smiled at her curiosity, rather than frown at it, though Penelope was too preoccupied to notice her gentle expression. ¡°Have you never been in a mage¡¯s home before?¡± the older woman inquired, looking clearly amused. Penelope shook her head. ¡°No, never. It¡¯s so¡­¡± ¡°Cluttered?¡± Yule supplied. ¡°¡­interesting,¡± Penelope finished. ¡°Do you know much about magic, Penelope?¡± Minerva asked. ¡°Only a little,¡± came the honest answer. What Penelope knew of it was that it existed and that her own magic, which she learned through trial and error. And who knew if there was more than what she had already tried? ¡°Do you know about the basic principles of magic, my dear?¡± Penelope shook her head. Minerva chuckled, while Yule just huffed impatiently. ¡°Well, how about a quick little lesson, then?¡± Yule groaned, while Penelope was simply charmed by the idea. Her friend may have possibly heard this lecture before, but she had only been in this world for less than a week! Anything she could learn would only help her further in her life in Iralon¨¦. After all, Penelope had no idea why Yule had even brought her here. Obviously, for nothing nefarious, since Minerva seemed nice enough, but she did not hold out hope that she would remain with Yule for much longer. He was with his family, after all. He need not keep being by her side anymore. From past experiences, she knew better than to expect anything lasting. People used her and then dropped her. That was just how it was. A small smile entered Penelope¡¯s face and she nodded in agreement. ¡°Yes, please.¡± There was an odd, small silence as Minerva considered the little girl in front of her, before beginning her lecture. ¡°All right, then. So, magic in Iralon¨¦ is divided into three categories: Divine, Natural and Unnatural.¡± ¡°Unnatural? Does that mean it¡¯s bad?¡± Penelope asked, surprised at these terms used. This wasn¡¯t the archetypes she was used to hearing in passing and Unnatural Magic sounds a little menacing. Minerva continued her explanation, ¡°Not at all. No one type of magic is either ¡®good¡¯ nor ¡®bad¡¯. It all depends on who use it. No, these classifications allows us to carefully assign magics into clearer definitions of what they are capable of doing. For instance¡­¡± The mage held up her hand, palm upwards, muttering a few words and a ball of water came into being above it. It gently remained aloft, like a solid bubble, some particles floating gently and disappearing into the air. ¡°This is one type of Natural Magic. Natural Magic is defined as magic that can be drawn from the existing world around us, as it already is, in some shape or form. Such as water. Other examples can be the earth, the wind, plants¡­magic can be drawn the world around us and is quite abundant. It can never come from nothing and everyone is born with a natural capacity for it intuitively. In my case, I have a preference for manipulating water.¡± Minerva closed her hand into a fist, popping the water bubble and allowing the water to flow from her fingers and disappear. Then, for her next demonstration, with a few words the mug of tea that she was drinking from began to lift slowly into the air. ¡°The second classification is Unnatural Magic. It is call this because it was magic that was researched, studied and created by many different mages over the years. Some call it Refined Magic, as it takes what is found in Natural Magic to be made into something else entirely. The best way to explain it is if it cannot be done or found in the natural world, then it is considered a type of Unnatural Magic. What I am doing right now is called telekinesis, which is a refined form of Natural wind magic, which can manipulate objects that I am looking at, without using my hands. There are a much larger variety of spells to be found in Unnatural Magic and they are something you must learn in order to have them in your own repertoire.¡± ¡°And what about the third one?¡± Penelope piped up. Here Yule finally said something, ¡°Divine Magic is the domain of the gods and those they favour only.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Minerva said, ¡°Whereas the other magic classifications require a base, Divine Magic does not have that requirement. However, the way to attain it is nigh impossible for most. For instance, in Birain, it is widely known that those reborn in this world are blessed by Tulilith, our goddess of rebirth. And they are capable of Divine Magic. Making something from nothing. In essence, mortals gain the power of Creation, which is a domain exclusive to the deities of our world.¡± ¡°How do you know that someone has Divine Magic?¡± Penelope asked, doing her best to hide her rising worry and anxiety. ¡°Well, the temples of this world possess magical devices to determine it one way or another, but what usually gives it away is an ability to heal,¡± Minerva explained, looking a little perplexed at the younger girl. She leaned closer to Penelope, making her jump a bit. ¡°Do you know someone who can do that, Penelope?¡± ¡°Erm¡­¡± Minerva was so uncomfortably close that Penelope could easily see her reflection in the mage¡¯s dark eyes. The girl didn¡¯t know what she was trying to see or if this was some kind of intimidation tactic, but she squirmed from the proximity. It just simply brought back very horrible memories of older people getting too close and doing terrible things. Nothing good ever got to being close to others like this. Unable to help it as the silence stretched, she closed her eyes and braced herself as words came tumbling out of her mouth. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry!¡± Penelope blurted out. Did she tell the truth or did she lie? Divine magic¡­it sounded much too close to what she did. But no, she had to use items to make her magic work, so that couldn¡¯t be it, right? Penelope was mentally reasoning with herself as she tried to come up with something else to say, other than an apology. What did she even have to apologize for? But, even if there was nothing to be sorry for, that was often her go to reaction to stressful moments. If she said sorry, people would leave her alone, right? Was that why Yule had looked at her so weirdly before? Penelope struggled with the suffocating panic rising in her. Yule came up between them and guided Minerva¡¯s face away from Penelope¡¯s. ¡°Come on Aunt Minerva, don¡¯t be rude to her, she helped me out on the way here. Be nice.¡± Minerva placed her cheek in her hand, looking somewhat contrite, though confused seemed to match her expression more. ¡°Oh, am I? I¡¯m sorry, my dears. Talking of magic just gets the old blood going, hahaha. My apologies, Penelope. I just love magic, you know? It¡¯s all so fascinating. So¡­you don¡¯t have to look at me like that.¡± Penelope had no idea what kind of expression she was wearing, but she turned to Yule who just nodded calmly. Though there were the flutterings of nervousness still, she just nodded slowly. ¡°But well, I do have to say, it¡¯s very lucky that you helped out my impolite nephew. So I do owe you a bit of gratitude. So, my dear little Penelope¡­how about you stay here with us?¡±
Somehow, Penelope was convinced into staying with Yule and Minerva. Not that it was really hard, she had no place to go, nobody local to vouch for her and definitely lacked in funds. When she agreed to stay Minerva seemed unreasonably happy that she did, sweeping her up and swinging her in a hug. Yule gave her a very sympathetic stare when this happened, but did nothing to help. Probably because he knows how Minerva is with kids and knows better than to get too close. Minerva loved children ¨C perhaps a bit too much. At first, it kind of made her leery, but after helping out Minerva with the shop, the woman just seemed the type to be very enthusiastic about kids, their futures, about making a place that was safe for them to learn magic. The mage had explained that while everyone had the potential for magic, not everyone had the capability to hone themselves further or even afford it. ¡°Truth be told, magical education is for the rich, or at least financially comfortable. Tis a sad truth, so whether it¡¯s a child from the local area or from the upper classes, I want to be as encouraging as possible. Especially to those in need.¡± It was¡­truly bizarre to Penelope, meeting someone so gung-ho about kids without the worry that they were probably on some kind of offender¡¯s list. Even the teachers for preschoolers she had known from her former life were nowhere near as energetic or it was simply a fa?ade to get them through the day. Goodness knew Penelope had faked it a lot as Kasumi when looking after her little sister when she was just a toddler. Though the amount of time Kasumi had raised her sibling was probably not normal, all things considered. Well, there were a few reasons for why someone who loved children didn¡¯t have her own. ¡°Nellie, I just brought some herbs in, can you help Minnie mash them up?¡± The person asking was a tall, sleek and beautiful jackal-headed Cyno. Though slender, she was not one to be underestimated. Her graceful form hid great strength. Cynthia Riverthorn was Minerva¡¯s life partner, a female Cyno whom had met her decades ago and they¡¯d been together ever since. Cynthia was a warrior who did all kinds of odd jobs. Actually, her proper title was Warrior and Adventurer, which brought her all over the place in Ceralde and the surrounding area; her work was through the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, which was explained to Penelope as more of a temp work agency the way things were run. When Penelope heard about the guild, she got her hopes up, thinking she could go on amazing adventures found on some notice board, going up to rip off a quest she could take without checking in with anyone until she finished the job. However, when Cynthia came in after Penelope settled in, she gave the most dry explanation of the process, which really reminded Penelope of the work agencies in her past life. Filling out a form with your abilities, an agent at the guild matches you with jobs that matched your abilities best and then they have the person posting the job interviews you before hiring you at a premium, so a part of the wages goes to the guild. Yes, yes, it definitely sounded like a temp agency¡­ Penelope went over to Cynthia, accepting the basket handed over to her. It was filled with many herbs hand picked by the older female. With her hands free, Cynthia could waltz right up to Minerva and give her cheek an affectionate lick in greeting, with the other woman swatting her partner playfully on the arm with a light ¡®Cynthia, the children are watching!¡¯. It was both cute and a bit embarrassing to see, and Penelope privately squealed at the display of affection in front of her, so she set to work on the task given to her. Vasiliko was an herb abundant around Birain and is the main binding ingredient in almost all potions used by every day people. In order to use it, it had to be mashed up using a mortar and pestle. It had a very strong, aromatic scent to it and was safe to eat. It was essentially like the basil plant from Earth in terms of leaf shape and taste; the only difference that Penelope could find was that the leaves were blue in colour. Blue is Tulilith¡¯s favourite colour, I guess, Penelope mused while she gathered what she needed for her work. When she decided to stay, Penelope had insisted only after Minerva agreed she could work for it, which seemed to surprise the older woman. Penelope had once lived a very precarious and stress filled life before, where the threat of being thrown out was always present. Even though she had been the one making most of the money, the fear of no longer having a home always had a stranglehold of her. And in her current homeless position, she had to make herself useful. Because if you¡¯re useful, people won¡¯t throw you out. She had to work until she could figure out something more permanent. So when presented with being Minerva¡¯s assistant with small tasks, she readily agreed. And she got to work first day, grinding up herbs. There had been a whole storeroom of Vasiliko ready for her and she was told to grind up the herbs. Seeing what she had to do, Penelope had stayed up all night grinding and potting the results of her work. Minerva had been both upset and impressed by her crazy work ethic. ¡°I am glad for all your hard work, but children should be sleeping at night, not staying up until dawn!¡± Minerva had told her. Though Penelope had internalized this as ¡®you are a dumb child who did not understand what was asked of her¡¯. She had silently promised to do better next time as to not upset Minerva. The second day Cynthia had come home from a job and they finally met. Hoping maybe Penelope could relax a little bit, Minerva had asked the Cyno female to take their guest out with her for herb gathering. Maybe let the girl play in the flower fields while Cynthia did the herb gathering. Of course, when told where they were going and for what purpose, Penelope unfortunately thought she was asked to help Cynthia look for herbs, too, and attempted to in the flower filled fields where Cynthia left her for a bit. It was only after an hour of gathering, Cynthia returned to Penelope going mad trying to find an herb that would not normally be found among the blooms, almost in tears. It was decided that Penelope would not be allowed to go on jobs with Cynthia, either. The two adults truly had to sit Penelope down and explain to her that she needn¡¯t stress so much on the jobs they gave her. ¡°You are still young,¡± Minerva said, holding the girl¡¯s hands. ¡°And yes, while we appreciate the help, we are not going to make a child work herself silly.¡± ¡°Yeah, Nellie,¡± Cynthia had agreed, putting a hand on Penelope¡¯s head for a caress, taking note of how the child flinched at the touch, ¡°just be a kid. It¡¯s not big deal if you just do as kids do.¡± It was quite a shocking talk, to the point where she sort of cried a little, surprising both Minerva and Cynthia. Penelope didn¡¯t say anything, because it was hard to bring out any words. They were strangled in her throat, unable to push past her lips. They couldn¡¯t even form in her head. That was how much her mind was spiraling. She didn¡¯t understand what was going on, so she could not yet process the words being spoken to her nor what she really should say. In the end, Penelope managed to push through her best customer service smile and nodded in faux understanding. It was so strange being told she could be a kid, when in reality she had the soul of a fully grown adult. She felt ridiculous for the hurt and relief she felt. ¡°It¡¯s okay to take things slow, okay Penelope?¡± ¡°If you want to take a break, go ahead.¡± Both Minerva and Cynthia said these a lot to her over the last few days of her stay. And the more they said it, the more she began to feel comfortable¡­ So of course she wanted to work hard. Of course she wanted to make them happy, because they were being so kind. But she did her best not to go overboard (even though the urge was there, just to show how helpful she could be). However, there was clearly some problems still. Minerva tended to forget that Penelope was rather short for her age. Not in a malnourished, lacking in nutrients sort of way ¨C most of she had not yet hit that magical growth spurt hat would let her shoot up like a weed. At least when you compared her to the willowy Minerva and the tall Cynthia. Though only a few years older, Yule clearly outclassed her in height, too. How was this a problem? Minerva had a habit of putting things on higher shelves and spots after she finished using an item. As Cynthia never helped with the potion creation side of Minerva¡¯s business, Minerva only kept one of each tool within the shop. This included the mortar and pestle set used for crushing and mixing herbs. As the last person who used it, Minerva had unconsciously once again placed the tools Penelope needed too high for her to reach on her own. Why not get a stool to get it? There was none! Minerva and Cynthia were tall enough to reach everything! Why not a chair? Penelope¡¯s former life (Kasumi) was taught never to step on a chair, because she may dirty or break it! And she hated bothering Minerva to get it for her. At her last count, she had asked two times today. It was silly, but Penelope had developed a personal rule as to never ask anything of anyone more than three times, lest you annoyed or upset them. This number came to be as it was the safe number of times she could communicate with her mother (who would yell at her for being inattentive and stupid) or her father (who would lash out after the third time). This was a self-preservation tactic! Until she learned how far she could push the boundaries between herself and her new companions, Penelope had to be careful¡­ She needed to preserve the third time in case something more dire happened later that she needed actual help with. In the back room where the workshop was, Penelope was generally alone. Minerva kept to the front of house, dealing with clients, while Cynthia was either out or in the private rooms, away from the business of the shop. Yule did pop in occasionally, but she generally did not see him in the workshop. So she came to a solution. Nobody was looking, so she could once again call upon her special brand of magic! Penelope was still worried about the connotations of what she was capable of, but had decided not to think too hard on it. If she used it sparingly, it would be just fine. Nobody would catch her. And if she didn¡¯t leave the shop often, she wouldn¡¯t get caught by the representatives of the temples either. The idea of being connected to religious fanatics (according to her own mental image) was not appealing at all. Penelope brought out her paper and charcoal from her bag, placing herself on a chair where she could easily see the mortar and pestle on its high shelf. She could see and easily sketch them out, knowing the form she needed. Deciding she only needed it for a little bit, she drew a quick sketch of the items, watching as they manifested in that same golden light. Good, she thought. She hadn¡¯t lost her touch! If all went according to plan, her fast sketch would result in the tools disappearing before the end of the day. Now that she could get to work, Penelope went over to the pile of gathered herbs to get started, yet a voice cutting through the silence of the workshop stopped her in her tracks. ¡°Hey, what did I just see?¡± Penelope turned and saw Yule standing there, arms crossed and looking at her critically. CHAPTER 5 – The Artist Has a Discussion Yule was staring Penelope down quietly, whilst Penelope had gotten quite the dumbstruck expression on her face. A tense silence fell between the two of them, one that made the girl feel extremely anxious. Up until this point she had been very careful about revealing too much of her abilities. It wasn¡¯t hard, as Penelope had never been the type to let herself do things the easy way; she was used to going without the very idea of convenience. ¡°I¡­¡± Penelope¡¯s voice trailed off, as she didn¡¯t know what she should say. Yule crossed the room, closing the distance. Penelope had backed up, the newly made mortar and pestle in her hands, staring up wide eyed at the older boy. He didn¡¯t say anything. Why didn¡¯t he say something? His hands came up and placed them over hers, startling her. He moved the bowl and little rod while she still held them, inspecting them carefully and quietly. His eyes then went over to the one just out of reach of Penelope¡¯s hands on the nearby shelves. All the while never uttering anything, before nodding to himself. ¡°So, you can use Divine Magic,¡± he stated, flatly. Penelope¡¯s eyes got wider and she immediately shook her head. ¡°No, no, no. Absolutely not! There¡¯s nothing divine about my magic,¡± she insisted, her words chosen out of pure panic, rather than careful choice. The rationale behind how she did what she did had been long chosen and worked out in her mind, but now that she was here, she didn¡¯t know how to explain herself anymore. ¡°Then how did you make this?¡± Yule asked. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t lie, you weird girl.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m really not!¡± ¡°¡­¡± Yule¡¯s expression read as exasperated, when Penelope dared to look him in the eye. Eye contact did not last long. He sighed and let go of her hands. ¡°Penelope, I¡¯m not going to rat you out,¡± he said, at length. His hand went to pat her head reassuringly, but he hesitated on seeing her flinch; he let his hand fall back to his side. ¡°But we do have to talk about this. Did anyone teach you about magic?¡± ¡°¡­No. I had to learn on my own.¡± Literally, it¡¯d been just a few scant days since she first used magic. Yule had no idea exactly how untrained she really was. Yule frowned a little, before pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°Okay, we are going to make sure you are trained. I¡¯m going to ask Aunt Minerva ¨C don¡¯t argue.¡± He was being quite serious about what he intended to do. ¡°Aunt Minerva won¡¯t say anything to anyone either, but whether or not your magic is divine or not, people are going to see it and think it is. So somebody has to drill some discipline into you, so you can stay safe.¡± Penelope didn¡¯t know what to say. Could she really leave her safety in their hands? Should she make a run for it? Penelope knew she could survive on just her drawn rice balls and sleeping outside wasn¡¯t so scary either¡­but the little time she had been in Ceralde had been so nice. But if there was a chance of something going wrong¡­ ¡°Penelope.¡± He used her name so straightforwardly, and only in moments like these where she was clearly digging herself deeper into her own head, drawing her out. There was an almost lyrical way in how he said her new name. A way that made it feel right. Like it was meant to be said like that. She wished he said it more often. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard, but¡­trust me. It¡¯ll be all right.¡± He held his hand out invitingly, not approaching further, just waiting for her to make the choice. ¡°You helped me out, so let me help you, too.¡± Help. That was as strange to her as a two-headed rabbit. Before, when she was Kasumi, she never dared to ask for help nor accept it. The culture she was in said you had to modestly decline before someone could help you, though, more often than not, Kasumi never did received help regardless if she acted modestly or not. But I¡¯m not Kasumi anymore, she reminded herself. She was Penelope Snowflower, the goddess said so herself. She was renewed, if not brand new! And right now, she was at the beginning of her new adventurous life, just dropped unceremoniously here. Well, if she got into trouble, she could just run away! And Yule had been a good companion, if a bit too taciturn at times, but that was understandable. She had been, by and large, a stranger to him, yet he had put his faith in her. Some random girl he met by an olive tree. The two of them were still getting to know each other. And he was the only friend she had made, if she could think of him that way. At the very least, she would like to know him better. So she put her hand in his and nodded. ¡°All right,¡± she agreed, smiling. ¡°Let¡¯s go talk to Minerva.¡± Yule nodded, now leading them to go get Minerva so they could have a private conversation, hand-in-hand as they had been when coming to Ceralde together. Minerva had been serving a few customers when the two children went to go see her, so they had to wait until those customers got their purchases before Minerva could put up the closed sign and locking the door. Yule had insisted on it, since the conversation to follow was very important and required secrecy. Penelope appreciated his forethought. They were all seated in the backrooms together, doors and windows firmly closed with curtains drawn, before anyone spoke up. ¡°Aunt Minerva, Penelope has something to show you,¡± Yule said. He looked over to the girl who nodded slowly. It would be the first time Yule would be witnessing her ability from step one and not just the end stages. So she brought out a piece of paper from her satchel to start drawing. Penelope decided on something simple like a mug of steaming tea. She murmured under her breath, concentrating on the imagery, the scent of well brewed team the steam and warmth as she did so. Her sketch was given a bit more time and detail than she usually gave her quick creations before. Perhaps because people were actually watching her draw and she wanted to perform well. As it had when she finished with the intent to create, golden light erupted from the drawing, re-creating exactly what she had imagined. The golden lines lifted themselves from the page, before aligning and filling themselves up into her vision into reality. Soon, everyone at the kitchen table could smell the scent of tea, though none of them could pinpoint what kind. Simply that there was an herbal scent filling the room now. ¡°Go ahead and pick it up,¡± Penelope offered, gesturing for Minerva to touch the mug. The mage was gobsmacked, seeing what was in front of her. Her hands slid along the smooth surface of the mug, taking in the warmth coming from the mystery liquid inside. She lifted it, testing the heft carefully, as to not spill anything. Taking the mug close to her face, she took a quick sniff and after a moment, determined it safe for consumption. Just a few ginger sips taken before she set the mug down. There was a long moment of consideration, Minerva crossing her arms as the children watched on silently. The older woman closed her eyes and took a deep, long breath. Much thought was going into her next words, before she spoke up. Minerva¡¯s gaze settled on Penelope, who sat up straight in response. ¡°I have never seen such magic in my life. In order to make an item, we normal magic users normally require at least a base for casting ¨C you cannot make something from nothing, no matter how much magical capacity you may be born with. Even the strongest sage in the world can¡¯t just make something out of thin air!¡± Minerva gave Penelope a very serious and worried look. ¡°Yule explained to me before that you were on a journey and I kept silent about such an obvious fake story, since your circumstances might be too traumatic to mention. I was going to wait to hear your story when you felt comfortable, but¡­Penelope, where did you actually come from? Are you actually a runaway from a temple?¡± Minerva¡¯s tone was not accusatory, just very concerned about the connotations of Penelope being there. After all, in this world, the temples of the world always went after every child with even the barest hint of Divine Magic. A scary sort of monopoly, in all honesty. And Penelope could guess why the mage would assume she came from the temple. Was now a good time to mention where she actually came from? Could she tell the whole truth? ¡°I¡­no, I didn¡¯t,¡± Penelope began. She had no real way to tell them where she came from. From her own understanding of Iralon¨¦, people did get reborn and it was taken as fact, but she had not heard of people from other worlds being reborn into this one. Reminding herself of this, she tried to explain herself as plainly as possible. ¡°I don¡¯t know if this magic is really Divine Magic or not and I honestly don¡¯t want to know.¡± It was a very honest thing. She had left behind a very hard life and did not wish to repeat all of that hardship again. Penelope just wanted to live peacefully. The girl explained, at the very least, about her family. How she was always kept at home for one reason or another. Talking about her life before as Kasumi, she realized how off everything was. Curfews before 3 PM when she was in her twenties, when they would make her do chores or something, making her late to appointments or meetings. It made her give up on having any friends or meeting anyone new. She hadn¡¯t even gotten to date anyone, such was the grip her family had on her. They kept her dependent and shackled by guilt and filial duty. ¡°Oh, but I was happy to do it. I loved my family, you know? I just wanted everyone to be happy. I was even supposed to get married to a stranger.¡± That was the truth, too, as resentful as she had become. The beginnings had been innocent enough. Everything hadn¡¯t been terrible at the start. ¡°But, I am no longer with them, because by the grace of the goddess Tulilith, I was able to escape. That¡¯s how it is. I don¡¯t know where I originally came from, but I¡­don¡¯t want to go back. I¡¯ll keep running if I have to.¡± Not quite what happened, but close enough. Tulilith did tag her soul and bring her to this world. ¡°I always did everything I could, but I had enough, you know? I guess I am a bad daughter, because I left.¡± Even though she knew it was good for her, Penelope couldn¡¯t quite let go of the guilt, of the duty she had to her family. She was so used to being relied on, that it just didn¡¯t quite process that her situation was not at all a normal one. If presented with this sort of thing from someone else, she had historically told them to leave, find happiness. Hypocritical thing, of course, but when you were emotionally wrecked into believing you were only meant to be happy if you were useful to someone, it was hard to break away from. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Minerva¡¯s hand found her cheek. The touch came out of nowhere and Penelope couldn¡¯t help, but to freeze. The older woman looked at her sympathetically. ¡°I see. That¡¯s enough of that now. You don¡¯t need to say more,¡± she said softly. ¡°I understand. More than you could ever know.¡± ¡°You do?¡± ¡°Oh, yes. You¡¯re not the problem. The adults around you¡­they were the problem. Never forget, that you are the child and you should not be responsible for what adults do.¡± ¡­Huh? ¡°Ah, Minerva¡­?¡± All of a sudden she was pressed up against Minerva¡¯s chest, held by a strong hug from the older woman. ¡°How despicable! Children are our future! What disgusting people your parents were! It`s illegal to marry a child, what terrible person would agree to something like that?!¡± ¡°Wait a minute there, it seemed some kind of misunderstanding¡ª¡± ¡°Hush. It¡¯s all right. I understand perfectly what¡¯s going on. If I ever meet your parents¡­I will burn them!¡± No, Minerva, you really don¡¯t¡­ Penelope pushed away from the older woman, waving her hands placatingly in front of her. ¡°Now, now, calm down, Minerva.¡± A knock sounded at the door before Cynthia came in, the Cyno female looking perplexed. ¡°Hey, I heard a bit of shouting when I came back, is something going on?¡± she inquired, looking at the scene of Yule, Minerva and Penelope. The mage immediately went up to her lover, dragging poor Penelope with her and quickly filling in Cynthia about Penelope¡¯s (misconstrued situation). After her brief explanation, Cynthia was also upset. ¡°What the hell?! What kind of crappy parents are those?! And I thought your father was bad, Minnie, but these guys sound worse! Wait until I find them, I¡¯ll bite their heads off¡ª¡± ¡°Wait, please, calm down¡­¡± Penelope pleaded. It would be a bit of time before the girl got everyone to calm down.
¡°You are going to need magic lessons,¡± Minerva stated, with little room to argue in her voice. ¡°I know your capabilities are wondrous, but it won¡¯t hurt for you to learn formally to control it better.¡± ¡°Minnie is a top notch witch, on par with the court mages. You couldn¡¯t ask for a better teacher,¡± Cynthia stage whispered into Penelope¡¯s ear, pride evident in her voice. There was a sparkle when the Cyno female¡¯s gaze met her partner¡¯s and Minerva straightened her shoulders primly, trying to look unaffected by the compliment, though her pink cheeks said otherwise. ¡°Hmph! And who would want to serve in such a place when I am better suited elsewhere to people who actually deserve my help?¡± Minerva grumped. Ah, so this was where Minerva and Yule were similar, as relatives. Chuckling, Cynthia moved in to nuzzle her partner¡¯s cheek. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± she placated. ¡°My dear sweet Minnie would never serve at court, not when she can be a hero of people and protector of children.¡± ¡°Damn right, I am,¡± Minerva groused, yet not denying the affection. Yule, who was standing there with Penelope, looked utterly grossed out by his aunt¡¯s display. Penelope, personally, was very charmed by the obviously happy couple. After a few extra moments of Cynthia piling on the love onto Minerva, the mage pushed her partner away so she could continue addressing the children (now sporting a pink face). A finger pointed directly at Yule. ¡°You are going to be joining her, of course.¡± Yule balked at her. ¡°What? But I already know how to use magic!¡± ¡°Not nearly well enough, if Penelope found you half dead on the side of the road,¡± Minerva replied without missing a beat. She tutted her nephew with a wag of a finger. ¡°Honestly, you were lucky she found you. I''m sure there would have been plenty of people happy to snatch you up. Or worse.¡± Yule didn''t say anything, though he did stare back with a silent glower. Penelope could see that it was not going to work on Minerva though. The fortitude of a middle aged woman is not something to be trifled with, Penelope thought sagely. Though Minerva seemed to be a league all of her own as she grabbed her nephew and rubbed her knuckles against his head, much to his protest. ¡°I was just unlucky, it won''t happen again!¡± ¡°Tell me that again when you are 100 years older.¡± ¡°Nobody can get as old as you, you hag.¡± ¡°What was that? Did I hear you say something unpleasant you impolite nephew of mine?¡± She amped up the knuckle sandwich, making Yule yelp. Penelope was actually concerned, but Cynthia kept her back with a shake of her head and smile. ¡°They''re just playing around Nellie, don''t you worry your little head.¡± ¡°Really?¡± She glanced at the two relatives who were now staring each other down, Yule having squirmed his way out of his aunt¡¯s grasp. ¡°It seems intense.¡± ¡°I suppose from an outsider¡¯s perspective that may seem true, but everyone shows how they care in their own ways,¡± Cynthia explained kindly. Having been brought up to speed by Yule and Minerva, she understood perhaps such displays were not the norm for her and did her best to reassure their little guest. Penelope still thought this kind of rough play was a bit excessive, so she stepped up to diffuse the situation. Coming up beside Yule, she reached out and grasped his hand. ¡°Come on Yule. You can¡¯t let me do lessons all by myself,¡± she pleaded. ¡°I don¡¯t want to take up all of your aunt¡¯s time by myself.¡± ¡°No, please. Take it. Take all of it,¡± Yule replied swiftly. ¡°Now, Yule, you can¡¯t just disappoint sweet Penelope so easily, could you? After all, we do owe her for looking after you,¡± Minerva pointed out, almost gleefully. The older woman shot her a look that said to make with the puppy eyes, which Penelope quickly screwed up to the best of her ability, though she probably looked more like a kicked puppy than a cute kitten. There was a bit of grumbling, but he eventually agreed. ¡°I guess so.¡± He looked at Penelope. ¡°Just until you get used to it, okay? After that you¡¯re on your own.¡± Delighted from just this, Penelope smiled brightly. On a whim she switched up how she held his hand, linking their pinkies together in a sign of a promise. ¡°You promise you¡¯ll be together with me?¡± The words spoken by the young artist were innocent enough and should have sparked nothing more, perhaps, than a grunt of affirmation from Yule. His reaction, however, was not one she expected. Yule¡¯s face went entirely crimson, his jaw dropping at their linked pinkies. Minerva put a hand up to stifle a laugh, while Cynthia outright guffawed watching them. Penelope was completely confused. Oh, no, did I do something weird? The girl looked at the boy¡¯s mortified (but flushed) face, then looked over at Minerva who had to look away, lest she lost her composure. Cynthia was still howling with mirth. Seriously, what did I do? Did I commit some Iralonian faux pas?! It was Cynthia who decided to take pity on the girl, going over to undo their linked pinkies. ¡°My sweet girl, didn¡¯t you know that only lovers who are about to propose link pinkies?¡± Now it was Penelope¡¯s turn to become bright red, steam practically rising right out of her ears as she processed that bit of information. ¡°Wh-what?! Seriously?!¡± ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Minerva piped up, still barely concealing her amusement. ¡°Since the tenth king¡¯s reign in Birain, when he proposed to his queen, it has become something of a tradition in our country that when you make a lifelong promise to someone, you link pinkies. You essentially proposed to Yule.¡± Penelope internally screamed. She immediately apologized to Yule, waving her hands frantically as if to fan away the steaming hot red faces they had now, due to this situation. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t mean it like that! I¡¯m just happy you¡¯ll do lessons with me and Minerva!¡± Truly, there was nothing else as embarrassing as this moment. The adults were having a good laugh about it, though, as Penelope flailed around trying to stop them. ¡°Hey, stop laughing! I didn¡¯t know! Yuuule, do something!¡± When turning to her companion, he had a 1000 mile stare as he peered at his hand. Looked like he was clocked out of this one. The laughter endured a little while until only a few occasional giggles left Cynthia and Minerva was finally able to screw a serious face back on. Cynthia clapped her hands together. ¡°You know what we need? A good meal. We can all talk more about what we are all going to do after we have ourselves some lunch. And I have an idea¡­¡± The Cyno female turned towards Penelope, who peered back up at her in curiosity. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to see your abilities for myself, but do you know if you can make things you never saw before?¡± ¡°Ah? No, not really. Everything I¡¯ve made so far are things I remember really clearly or things I¡¯ve seen,¡± Penelope replied. ¡°Well, how about we put you to the test? Better for us to have an idea of what you¡¯re capable of. I can describe something for you and we¡¯ll see if you can make it.¡± Like those police sketches in detective dramas? Penelope thought to herself. It would be a good exercise for her, though she wasn¡¯t confident she could pull something like that off. It would probably have to depend on Cynthia¡¯s ability to describe what she wanted and the strength of Penelope¡¯s own mind when she concentrated on her intent to create. She nodded in acceptance, pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment. Cynthia rubbed her hands together, grinning widely. ¡°All right! Attagirl! Now listen closely¡­¡± A large earthen pot, made with thick walls as to withstand the constant heat it would be subject to. A handle made of heat resistant metal adorned each side, so that people could easily pick it up and carry it off the heat. Within the depths of this pot swirled thickly cut ingredients, such as karo (carrots) and tata (potatoes), alongside savoury meat. A hint of a rich aroma would come from further in the depths, the gravy mixed together with a variety of herbs and red wine¡­ Penelope was carefully drawing every detail that she could, concentrating hard on what was being brought forth with her ability. When Minerva realized what was coming, she got Yule to help her clear an area so the item that would materialize would have space to do so. The artist heard offhand comments such as ¡®glutton¡¯ and ¡®bigger than it needs to be¡¯, but continued onward as she visualized and drew. As it had every other time, the lines peeled off and formed, creating the foundation of her drawing in reality. It filled in the blanks when he mind could come up with nothing similar in her memories to compare it to. Yet, on hearing the description more and more, Penelope could only think of one thing that matched the description Cynthia gave her. The scent of a savoury gravy hit their noses and Cynthia¡¯s mouth watered, unfettered as the stew finished materializing with a solid thud at the space Minerva and Yule had made. The Cyno female looked to Penelope for permission and the girl gestured for her to go ahead. Bowls were found and Cynthia ladled in the first serving. She took a moment to gently scent the food, shuddering in anticipation as it smelled divine and familiar. Gingerly, she took the first bite¡­and then promptly wolfed down the rest of the bowl and went for seconds! And thirds, and fourths¡­ ¡°Waaah! This is the taste! I haven¡¯t had this in ages. I could eat this for days!¡± Seeing her partner¡¯s enthusiasm, Minerva served out bowls for herself, Yule and Penelope. She tried a spoonful in a more reserved manner and sighed happily when she had a taste of the manifested stew. She knew this taste and closed her eyes to enjoy the flavour and memories coming to her. Yule enjoyed it, too, quietly smiling as he ate sedatedly. Apparently, in Birain, this meal was something of a delicacy and one usually only upper class families got to enjoy regularly. For Penelope though, this was the familiar taste of a hearty beef stew, one of the first recipes Kasumi ever learned how to make. Back when things were less stressful, before her sister was born and it was just Kasumi, her mother and father. The first time she successfully made this stew her family had been so happy eating it together with her, praising her. What a time had that been. She¡¯d almost forgotten what that was like, eating a meal together with others. ¡°Hey, Minnie. Remember our reception? We had this served to everyone as a special treat. I¡¯ll never forget that taste of that stew¡­more than anything, eating it together with you,¡± Cynthia mentioned fondly, sidling up next to Minerva. The mage blushed, but smiled, swatting at her partner playfully. ¡°Oh, you. More than anything, I just remember being happy I could be with you forever,¡± Minerva whispered, looking up at Cynthia fondly. The two women stared at each other, their food forgotten for a moment as their pinkies intertwined and they simply gazed into the other¡¯s eyes. Yule looked decidedly disturbed. ¡°Could you two please go get a room if you¡¯re going to be like that. You¡¯re going to ruin the food.¡± Minerva gasped at him, feigning being scandalized. ¡°Goodness, how rude! On top of magic lessons, maybe I should teach you some proper manners.¡± ¡°Says the mage making goo-goo eyes at her lover every chance she gets.¡± ¡°Say what?! Listen here you little¨C¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mind them, Penelope,¡± Cynthia said, over her eleventh bowl of stew. Penelope watched the two bickering relatives and nodded. It was strange to her, but not every raised voice meant something bad nor every argument ready to lead to violence. It even seemed like they were having fun. Smiling to herself, she quietly ate her soup as Minerva and Yule shouted at each other and Cynthia kept Penelope company as they enjoyed lunch. It¡¯s a bit noisy, she thought, but it¡¯s not bad. CHAPTER 6 – The Artist Goes Out In Birain, there were six families, all descended from the reincarnations of the first King, Ionian Laertes Raviseul. Those of the first bloodline had the privilege of holding the Raviseul name, as the second king recalled himself as once being Ionian, the first king. While power often shifted between the families, they held the throne more often than not. Historically, they were fair rulers, though their political power declined as the years went on as their numbers dwindled with every generation. Due to their proximity of being closest to the first king, most of the other families resented them, which has caused no small amount of conflicts. The second bloodline were named the Claridieu. During the era in which they came to be, the third king had to vanquish some great evil that befell Birain, partnering up with a cleric from the temple of Tulilith. The two fell in love and married, resulting in that bloodline having very close ties to the country¡¯s religion. They were in constant conflicts with the first family about the right of rule; it was always a fight of divine right versus birthright. They led the coup that disrupted the political landscape of the country, in recent times. The third family, the Virelli, a disgraced group of nobles who fell from position due to being the ones accused of trying to rig the king selection process all those years ago. They had recently become merchants, clawing their way out of the gutter and gaining traction as a business-minded family. One did not conduct business in Birain without hearing about the Virelli Company. The fourth family were called the Raubannes. They were the military power of Birain and very loyal to the Raviseuls, their two families linked through a marriage between them. They earned themselves the title of Shields of the King, because of their loyalty and stalwart nature. Even during the siege that caused the death of the most recent king, they continued to defend their cousins and allies. Their forces had retreated to their keep in the north, biding their time and regrouping. The Angeteuil came to be during a time of peace, where artistry and industry flourished. The king that reigned during their time was one with strange, but revolutionary ideas. They rarely ever vied for the throne, cherishing more their peace. This also meant that they held no particular side, staunchly staying neutral to avoid conflicts. They were suspiciously absent during the coup. The Verisey, the last confirmed bloodline born of a reincarnation of Ionian Laertes Raviseul, were also part of the controversy involving the king selection process. While neutral on the surface, they were a family that wavered between whoever was in power, having no loyalties to the other families. Their loyalties laid only in power and they built their own over the years, through political unions with families from other lands. Only the youngest son of the previous generation, held any genuine love for the Raviseul rulers of Birain; he rose alongside the former king, becoming his right hand as prime minister. At this very moment, there is a search for the missing rightful heir to the throne of Birain. Of course, the identity of this person was left up to interpretation, due to the strange nature of the king selection process. It could be the missing heir to the recently deceased king, Ulysses Laertes Raviseul, whose body was not found nor identified after the coup at the capital. The new heir could also be a member of any of the other bloodlines, who had claims to being related to the first king. However, occasionally, an heir was chosen by someone blessed by the goddess without them being related to the first king either by blood or spirit. The temples assumed those reborn would bring with them divine messages and revelations, which was the reason why they always sought out individuals who met the rebirth criteria. The amount of those reborn was actually very small, a paltry percentage of the world. Most souls in this world were brand new, living for the first time. In a single temple, you would find a single soul who had been reborn, working for the clergy; more than five, if it is the larger headquarters. The second king¡¯s wife was one such individual and so it became imperative to secure every goddess blessed child so that they could be educated from an early age, the right disposition expected of them. If not to be the ruler, than someone who stood beside them. However, they were treated very poorly. While the illustrious bride of the second king had willingly entered the temple of her own free will, subjected herself to intense training and a modest lifestyle, it was still her choice. Under the divine edict determined by the greedy wants of a few, families were driven apart. Even destroyed. All for the faint hope that one bloodline could seize power once more. Yet in recent years, not a single reborn soul had been found. As if the goddess herself wished to withhold her love of the people of Birain, which resulted in the crown being passed from father to son for a few peaceful generations in the absence of a divinely chosen leader. But of course, no one could leave it well enough alone. Unhappiness festered all the more easily. And so Ulysses lost his home and was now hiding in Ceralde under the guise of a boy named Yule. And it so happened he had someone clearly blessed by Tulilith living under the same roof as him. What a strange turn of events. Penelope really was too defenseless, he thought. The first night they shared a tent he really couldn¡¯t comment on it, but looking back on it now, she truly did not have a sense of the danger she could have been in. Sense of responsibility came over him as they traveled together and now began living together. She had more hidden behind the truth she had already shared with all of them. He was sure his aunt felt it, too. There was more to be found out about this girl blessed by the goddess. As if what they had managed to glean wasn¡¯t already shocking enough. He could never imagine what it was like not to have loving parents. The concept was foreign to him, though he did admit everyone had different experiences. His father, while distant, was always proud of his children (Yule¡¯s heart clenched at remembering he had no siblings left, save for one) and his dear mother could not go a day without telling him she loved him. Ulysses had all the support one could want, from his parents and other adults alike. Of course, the latter may have had to with his position as an heir to the throne, but he had never lacked for much. From the sounds of it, Penelope did. Depressingly so. He could recall nothing more than wanting to spend afternoons having lessons with his father, despite how busy he was ruling a kingdom. Pouting and sulking until he would eventually get his way. And some days, simply receiving something on a whim, because his mother simply thought of him. And never mind being pushed into a marriage so young. Not since the fifth king¡¯s reign had marriages between adults and children had been allowed, not even to arrange them between royals. A royal engagement was selected at age fifteen, then courtship happened until their 17th year and, if all went well, it would be officially announced at age 18 to the entire court. The world was filled with despicable people; only a scant few had noble hearts and they were the ones trodden upon the most. Used and then tossed aside, or done away with if they stood in the way of another¡¯s goals. Yule¡¯s heart burned with so much vengeance and it took everything in him to keep it from erupting around Penelope. She did not deserve to see it, nor to be victimized again by the problems of someone else. She was so weirdly happy about things and now he finally understood why. The private rooms behind the shop were few; Minerva and Cynthia shared one, while he and Penelope were relegated to a guest room. Even the same bed, though he made sure to stay as far from her as possible. It made sleeping uncomfortable as he almost hung off the edge of the bed, but he was not the only one doing so. It was a step above what had happened though. Better for them to share the one bed in the guest room than to be the only one sleeping on one. Penelope had insisted on sleeping on the floor with a single blanket and a pillow. And when she offered to create a second bed, he had shot that idea down, too, as there would be no room for a second bed. Yule had shared a bed before, with his siblings. He had two little brothers and one little sister. His sister had been the one who constantly snuck into his bed. The night he lost everything, she had been snugly nestled by his side. And she had taken the brunt of a plot for assassination when his would-be killer thought the lump underneath the blankets was him, not her. He could never forgive himself for letting that happen. He had only gone away for a moment; he had heard a noise and got up from bed, after tucking his sister in. And then¡­ Penelope didn¡¯t need to sleep so far away, neither did he, but this was not his sister, after all. It was not appropriate. But no way was he letting her have the floor. He was not some heartless jerk! The blanket slipped off of Penelope¡¯s sleeping body and she shivered, however, she did not move to reclaim the blanket. Yule frowned. He picked up the corner of the blanket and dragged it back up to her chin. Geez. Even in her sleep she¡¯s hopeless. Going a step further, he coaxed her more towards the middle of the bed, so she wouldn¡¯t topple over. Penelope mumbled sleepily, but otherwise moved under his prodding.Her body was soon curled up away from the edge of the bed. Of course, he would inevitably need to sleep on the side¡­ A night without being fully comfortable wouldn¡¯t hurt him. The road to Ceralde had been much, much worse. Yule watched Penelope for a few moments longer before turning around and closing his eyes, doing his best to will himself to sleep. He tossed a few more times before settling down, facing Penelope. Her face was really peaceful. Was she having good dreams? What kind was she having? Were they filled with the memories of something terrible from her past, or did sweet things enter her mind? Penelope¡¯s eyes fluttered blearily open for a moment. Surely, she was not truly awake, as a mindless smile spread on her lips and she reached out to hold his hand. ¡°There¡­there¡­sis has got¡­you.¡± Ah. Even after everything, Penelope still thought about her family. Yule didn¡¯t know whether to pity her or not. Exhaling softly, he squeezed her hand and closed his eyes again. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°Let someone else look after you for once,¡± he whispered, before falling asleep.
The days followed in the same routine: breakfast with everyone, the morning spent taking care of jobs (Minerva and the kids at the shop and Cynthia out on quests); during evenings there was a two hour long lesson for Penelope and Yule. Originally Minerva had set them to have one hour, but Penelope did not know how to read or write in their language. She was literate, but in a completely different language. Penelope had to learn their characters for the first couple of lessons, which made her feel a bit foolish. The last time she had learned a different language was in primary school, learning English. As Kasumi she did not have much of a mind for foreign languages and after she entered secondary school, there was no chance of her trying again. Yule and Penelope took the first hour as a sort of self study, where the boy helped her learn the basics before Minerva took over in the next hour to teach them magic through lectures and note taking, since book learning would be off the table for the moment. The two children had slowly figured out an analog for the two languages, placing Japanese characters to the ones used in Iralon¨¦. Penelope learned that Yule¡¯s handwriting was a bit messy compared to hers, when she looked at the characters lined up together in rows. It was quite cute, honestly, like he hadn¡¯t yet come into his own writing style yet. As far as literacy in the local language went, Penelope can recognize signs properly, though remembering what the characters meant exactly was still an ongoing project. It was a bit embarrassing, because she even had her own book (a gift from Minerva after shyly asking for supplies) for taking notes, as it was similar to when she was a small child. Pages filled with drawings and next to it a word in another language, with words in Japanese underneath. Minerva was impressed by the book and the notes therein. ¡°My! Just look at that,¡± the mage stated grandly, ¡°If I hadn¡¯t known this was your workbook, I¡¯d say it was an instructional book for children learning languages. The illustrations are so clear and and the writing so neat. Penelope! You draw so well.¡± The compliments rained down on the girl made her wring her hands and laugh nervously. Honestly, this should not be something to be praised for. It was bare minimum to keep things properly organized so she could find it later. And as for drawing, well, she was happy about it, but it was still embarrassing to be praised for it. ¡°It¡¯s really nothing¡­¡± she said, waving away the praise. Minerva would not have it, though. Minerva tutted her with a finger wave. ¡°Nonsense! When I was your age all I could draw was stick figures. Even now I¡¯m no good, but I suppose my talents lay elsewhere¡­¡± ¡°Like magic?¡± Penelope asked. ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Minerva replied with a nod. ¡°My magic skills are at level six, quite above average. I¡¯m one of the top mages in Birain.¡± Penelope blinked as her mind took an extra second to process that bit of information. Then it clicked. ¡°Wait a minute, what? I know you¡¯re one of the best in the country, but did you say you¡¯re level six?¡± ¡°Yes, quite impressive, right? I don¡¯t mean to toot my own horn, but barring a few masters from other countries, there really isn¡¯t a match for me here in Birain.¡± ¡°Th-that¡¯s not what¡¯s the problem here.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t level six low?¡± ¡°Goodness, no.¡± Clearly, there was a misunderstanding of something fundamental here, and Minerva was clever enough to eventually pick up on Penelope¡¯s distress and confusion. ¡°I take it no one in your family allowed you to learn much of how our world works, I take it?¡± Her birth family definitely blocked her from learning all kinds of things to better herself, but for once they were not at fault for this. Perhaps, in this world, Penelope could consider her mother to be the goddess of rebirth? Rather than come into this world naturally as a baby, she was dropped off in the body of a ten year old child. And she did inject information of Iralon¨¦ into her mind, it was clearly not enough. So, after a moment, the girl nodded. Tulilith, you gave me too little to work with! Minerva probably thinks I¡¯m an uneducated bumpkin! Penelope¡¯s mental complaints were loud, but there was no divine response. Minerva moved to explain more about the world of Iralon¨¦ to Penelope. ¡°Well, levels date back to the second king of Britain. Before then we only had a rudimentary way of gauging one¡¯s magical ability. The second king negotiated with the goddesses and the system we have now was created. However, it gauged not only magical abilities but other skills as well. And everything is on a scale of 1 to 10; 1 being the lowest tier and 10 being the highest. Most average folks don''t rank higher than level 1 or 2 and more exceptional individuals are from level 4 and higher, though it is rare to see anything higher than 6. There is nothing past level 10.¡± ¡°Does that apply for stats, too?¡± ¡°Yes, it does. Things like strength and speed are also ranked from 1 to 10 in order to help assess one¡¯s ability in every day situations and jobs. Does that make sense to you, Penelope?¡± ¡°A little bit. Thanks for explaining it to me.¡± ¡°You''re welcome, my dear.¡± Of course, Penelope thought with that familiar panic rising up inside, that means I am definitely not normal. If normal, every day people were meant to be ranked at levels 1 or even 2, what did it mean that she had a minimum of rank 5 on everything, save for certain skills and abilities? Penelope did not understand. Goddess blessed or not, this is ridiculous! Her internal struggle must have been evident on her face, because Minerva decided to shift topics. ¡°Say, when was the last time you left the shop?¡± Minerva asked. ¡°Um, I think a week ago when Cynthia took me out to gather herbs with her?¡± Penelope replied after counting down the days on her fingers. Minerva sighed and shook her head. ¡°Goodness, well¡­I guess it is hard to shake off habits. So how about we go out for dinner?¡± Penelope stared. ¡°Oh? Is there some special occasion?¡± ¡°No, not really,¡± Minerva replied. ¡°Then, why?¡± ¡°Because kids should be outside more. I realize you want to help out, but shouldn¡¯t you be playing with kids your age, too? You can¡¯t stay inside all the time.¡± ¡°Ah..¡± The older woman was right, of course. Without thinking about it, Penelope had returned to old habits.Routines were safe, though. Routines minimalized trouble and she¡¯d hate to find herself in some. However, she had been put into this world in order to enjoy life, not just to live as how she had always done. Ah, I¡¯m not very good at this yet, Penelope thought to herself. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t pay for it,¡± the young girl stated with a wry laugh. She hadn¡¯t been able to find a way to earn anything for herself just yet; another point to look at again soon, in case she overstayed her welcome. Minerva waved that excuse off, though. ¡°Who says you have to? I¡¯m treating everyone. You just go ahead and tell Yule and Cynthia we will be eating out tonight,¡± she said. The mage went silent a moment, trying to recall something. ¡°Oh, right. Cynthia would be out right now. I think she should be doing another herb gathering job for the guild. Could you head to the gathering point and tell her for me so I could use the time to properly close up shop?¡± Penelope perked up, eager for something to do. To help with. The girl nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Do you remember where it is?¡± Minerva prodded. Penelope nodded again. ¡°All right. Well, you go ahead. Cynthia will know where to go already when you tell her, so just get safely to her, all right? Don¡¯t dawdle. It will be dark soon, so don¡¯t get distracted.¡± ¡°Yes, m¡¯am!¡± Penelope chirped, taking her satchel with her art supplies and workbook before moving to head out. ¡°Penelope.¡± The girl stopped in her tracks, turning her head to look at the mage of the shop with a deer in the headlights look on her face that clearly said ¡®oh, no, am I in trouble?¡¯. ¡°Um, yes?¡± she squeaked quietly, expecting a scolding. However, all that came was Minerva wrapping her up in a cloak, pulling the hood up so her face was a bit obscured. It was one that she had worn before when she originally went out with Cynthia; a brown and worn number that was a bit long for Penelope. ¡°There we go. Stay covered up, stay safe. Now, off you go.¡± Oh. She just wanted to be sure Penelope would remain safe; while Ceralde was generally safe, you never knew what kind of stranger would appear in this port town who might try snatching her up. Penelope stood there for an awkward moment before nodding. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll see you soon. Thank you,¡± she said shyly, before finally leaving the shop. There was still daylight outside, with only a few clouds drifting lazily in the sky. The salty sea breeze hit Penelope¡¯s nose again and she had to take a moment to indulge in the fresh air of the sea and the warmth of the sun. Right, she thought, she was not confined to one space anymore. She could go to and from places, she could travel, she could go¨C Someone bumped into her, apologizing for doing so, though she was also quick to apologize, suddenly scared again. The other person just laughed at her and told her it was no problem and moved along. Ah, travelling along a road with just one other person was very different from moving around in a bustling town with many other people. A combination of anxious and excited again, Penelope pulled her hood up a little more before making her way towards the gathering point where Cynthia worked. There are pros and cons to being so small, Penelope mused to herself as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd. She could easily maneuver around objects and people, but on the bad side, sometimes collisions were inevitable because some couldn¡¯t see her due to her short stature. However, not a single person berated her for bumping into them; more often than not, they apologized for knocking her over. Some even taking a moment to brush off her clothes, though she refused the kind gesture after the second time it happened and vowed to be much more careful. She needed more getting used to her body. Minerva had been right to tell her to go straight to Cynthia, as since it had been a little while since she last walked through the streets of Ceralde, there were a great many distractions calling to her. It was only through being given a task that she had enough willpower not to stick in front of the market stalls to peruse items. Though she did remain staring at one shop window in particular a little longer than necessary when it caught her eye. Cynthia had told her what it was the last time they passed by; it was a stationary store. Filled with all kinds of blank books, sheets of paper, pens and other tools for writing. And drawing, Penelope thought. While Tulilith had been kind enough to send her off to iralon¨¦ with some items to draw with, they would run out. She was currently on her second to last stick of charcoal and if she kept up lessons with Minerva and Yule, she would need to replenish her stock. However, the pricing was a bit disheartening. Among some of the basic things Minerva taught her was the coinage in Birain. The currency came in three kinds that were struck in bronze, silver and gold called Draks. A bronze represented 1 Drak, a silver coin meant 10 Draks and a gold coin represented 100 Draks. After figuring out what some every day items cost, Penelope was able to make a mental conversion chart in her mind. The cheapest pens in there were 20 Draks each, which meant they were around 3000 yen per pen, which was expensive! Clearly, these were more catered to the upper class within town, but it didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t want them anyways. Back in her days of being Kausmi, she had always dreamt of having a fountain pen, one of the fanciest pens one could ever own. It was a mark of prestige and it seemed such an idea was also the norm here. Look at how expensive that was; the store didn¡¯t even carry charcoal sticks so there was no way she could afford it once she got paid for work. A job like being a waitress paid you 40 Draks a day, which can help you afford room and board, but very little else; it was an idea she thought of when deciding to stay at Minerva¡¯s shop. The adults had been entirely against her finding work, though, citing all kinds of reasons. So she only looked longingly at the pens inside, thinking one day. Reminding herself that she needed to find Cynthia, Penelope forced herself to leave the storefront to go finish her task. As she rushed to head to the gathering point, her workbook fell out of her satchel just as the door of the shop opened up. The owner had seen her staring at his wares and came out to ask her if she needed help, when she had run off, dropping her book. He did call out, but she had put so much distance between herself and the store, that she did not hear him calling for her. The store owner looked down at the workbook, flipping it open to try and find a name, but soon became engrossed in what he saw inside¡­ CHAPTER 7 – The Artist Goes to the Adventurer’s Guild Cynthia was finishing up with her current quest when Penelope came up to her. ¡°Hey, there, Nellie. What brings you here?¡± Cynthia inquired as she tied off the herb bunches together in groups of five. Penelope saw this and went to do the same with the leftover herbs. ¡°Minerva says we¡¯re eating out tonight for dinner,¡± Penelope responded as she meticulously tied off the herbs into neat bunches. ¡°Is that right? What a treat! Let¡¯s take all of this to the guild and we can head to the restaurant together!¡± Once everything was packed away, Cynthia picked up Penelope and they were off to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The building which housed the guild had four floors and was enough to take up a good corner of a city block. People kept going in and out of the grand main doors, which were carefully labeled for entry and exit uses (words that Penelope committed to memory when she tried to open the exit only door); this assured a constant and proper flow of business. The building was made of solid constriction, with brick and mortar that could withstand the salty sea air. There were stone pillars all around the building, each one with a different regal figure chiseled into them. Penelope actually had to squint a little because she noticed something peculiar about the statues as she went inside with Cynthia. ¡°Say, I could be wrong, but¡­are the statues all the same person?¡± she asked. ¡°Oh, yeah. According to the clerks, those statues are modeled after the second king of Birain in various poses.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Weird style choice, but all right. ¡°I guess he was really important, huh?¡± ¡°He was the archetype of the wandering adventurer, so yes, he is.¡± In the main room where quests were handed in reminded Penelope of a bank, where people lined up in front of tellers to have their account transactions done. Since Cynthia kept a firm hold of her in her arms (while Penelope held onto the herbs) she had a bit of extra height to look around; someone nearby was arguing over prices, while someone else was at a different counter making a request about a lost item. There were three people in front of Cynthia, updating the clerks on their quest progress, the one currently with a clerk was scribbling away at a form, scratching his head about this part or that. Oh, yes, quite like a bank, Penelope thought. I do not miss paperwork, but this might be me one day, so I should pay attention. Back in her life as Kasumi, she had worked for an advertising firm as a general worker. Not assigned to any particular department, but many things were placed on her plate by coworkers and this included paperwork she had no business doing. Out of necessity she had researched policies, terms and a variety of information in order to perform at work. Every time something came up, she would make a quick search on the internet with the hope it would give her advice on what to do so she could clear the next hurdle. I actually am glad I don¡¯t have the internet anymore. The internet was a scary place. She did have some good experiences on it, as occasionally, she fought off the lonesomeness with going into chat rooms. Making some connections, no matter how fleeting, eased the daily pain and made her want to keep going. Some chats were more toxic than others, but she did find some solace in strangers who happily talked with her about art or just complained alongside her about lazy coworkers and families who did nothing to help at home. There had been one person whom she met frequently, though, as they often appeared at the same time, in the dead of night, when Kasumi had been on break. Kasumi and that person spoke every other night through chat over the course of ten years, sharing artwork that they liked and encouraging each other. It was a light in a small, uncaring world. Penelope wondered if they would miss her, or wonder where she went after not answering any chats. She hoped that wherever they were, that they were still going to be happy¡­ ¡°Next!¡± called out the desk clerk. It was their turn; Cynthia stepped forward with Penelope readying to hand over the collected herbs. ¡°Name, rank, membership number and job number, please.¡± ¡°Cynthia Riverthorn. Rank C. Membership number 8-9-0-2-2-2. I¡¯m here for job number C-6202.¡± ¡°Please hold.¡± The clerk left the counter to go to the massive wall of books behind her, climbing up a ladder to grab something from one of the higher shelves, before returning with the correct page already open. ¡°This is a job to gather Chamo herbs. Our requester has agreed to 5 Draks per bundle, with bonuses if we deem the herbs of higher quality.¡± The clerk gestured to the desk in front of her, which was Penelope¡¯s cue. The girl carefully bent forward and laid out the bundles she and Cynthia had put together. The clerk checked them over with a spell, her eyes glowing a strange red which caught her attention. Was that some kind of appraisal ability? After a minute the clerk smiled and nodded, dividing piles into the ones that Penelope had bundled and ones that Cynthia had put together. ¡°Well, as usual you do great work, Cynthia. These herbs are great. But, how come these look a little neater than these ones?¡± Pointing at Cynthia¡¯s pile. ¡°I know you did these since you didn¡¯t cut the herbs the same length and tied them off quickly. These other ones look much more even.¡± ¡°Oh, I had a little helper. This is Penelope. She¡¯s been staying with Minnie and me,¡± Cynthia explained. ¡°I see! Well, hello Penelope. Thank you for your hard work,¡± the clerk said with a smile. Penelope, feeling shy, just pulled the cloak further around her face. The clerk laughed. ¡°Aw, she¡¯s shy. Well, it¡¯s not much, but for how neatly they came I¡¯ll add a little extra. We have ten bundles in all, so with your bonus, that¡¯s 51 Draks.¡± The money was quickly counted out and handed over ¨C five silver coins, plus one copper. While Cynthia collected the silver coins, she handed the copper one to Penelope who looked at it quizzically. ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± she asked, the coin still just laying there in her palm. ¡°I got that extra from your neat work, so that one is for you,¡± Cynthia explained. ¡°You mean I actually get to keep this?¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Penelope was stunned, but also a bit happy, and not a little teary-eyed. She had worked before, as Kasumi, day and night, and when she got paid, her family always helped themselves to her money, even when she worked hard to save for something. Their hands dipped in with little consideration. This was the first time someone willingly just handed over money to her. Even though the amount was small, she was grateful to have received it. ¡°Thank you very much!¡± Penelope chirped. She had to properly express her gratitude. Even as they walked away from the counter, Penelope couldn¡¯t help admiring the copper coin. Her delight amused Cynthia. ¡°Now, you can¡¯t officially sign up for the guild until you¡¯re a bit older, so don¡¯t get any ideas, all right, Nellie?¡± Penelope blinked at that. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Labour laws in Birain are pretty specific about hiring kids under 13. Not that it doesn¡¯t happen, but most respectable places tend to avoid it, like the guild here. And even when you sign up, they won¡¯t give you anything too difficult or dangerous. Mostly local odd jobs that kids can do.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± As they were making for the queue to exit the building and head off to meet with Minerva and Yule, the pair were stopped by a portly man in a shop apron. ¡°Excuse me, you two! May I have a word?¡± the man asked. ¡°You may,¡± Cynthia replied, gripping Penelope a little tighter. The girl looked between her guardian and the man in front of her. He looked to be middle aged, with a larger frame and belly. His hair had long gone white and was wild and bushy. While appearances could be deceiving, his brown eyes held a kind and tired quality to them. Penelope recognized the dark bags under his eyes ¨C this was a man who barely got enough sleep. He stuck his hand into his apron pocket and pulled out a familiar book. Penelope¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s mine!¡± ¡°Yes, I noticed you at my shop window earlier and you dropped it when you ran off. I came to the guild to hand it over to someone here so they could find you and give it back, but it seems that won¡¯t be necessary.¡± He handed the workbook back to the girl, who safely put it away in her satchel. ¡°By the way, that is a finely illustrated book. Do you happen to know where you purchased it?¡± ¡°Oh? Nowhere,¡± Penelope replied, looking proud. ¡°I drew all the pictures!¡± The man was surprised. ¡°R-really? Those amazing pictures?¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Penelope felt like the guy was being a bit too forceful with his praise and laughed nervously. It felt weird being told her doodles were good. ¡°They¡¯re not that good,¡± she insisted. ¡°Oh, but they are. If I may, I¡¯d really like to ask of you a favour¡­¡± There was a silent plea in the man¡¯s eyes, something he needed to ask. The look of someone who needed some kind of help¡­ ¡°Hey!¡± Someone¡¯s voice cut through the air, disturbing their conversation. There were people trying to move around them or standing near their little group. ¡°Could you move it along? You¡¯re blocking the path.¡± The shopkeeper waved for the two of them to follow him. ¡°Ah, my apologies everyone. Could you two come with me? There is something I¡¯d really like to discuss.¡± Cynthia looked to Penelope. ¡°It¡¯s up to you, kid. You all right with talking to him? I¡¯ll come with you, of course.¡± There was no way the warrior was letting her charge go anywhere alone. Penelope, curious as to what the shopkeeper wanted, nodded. ¡°Sure, why not?¡± Without much further ado, the three of them left the guild building to go discuss at the stationary shop. As they got out, the sky was beginning to change its hue to something richer and deeper, though night had not yet fallen. A dusky twilight had settled over Ceralde as the business of the streets wound down, with stalls being put away and wares packed up. The shop wasn¡¯t too far from the guild, but it took them a good few minutes to get there, during which time they made introductions. ¡°My name is Ulfric Gidget. I own the stationary store with my wife, Matilda.¡± ¡°My name is Penelope Snowflower,¡± Penelope returned, followed by Cynthia who also stated her name in suit. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for taking up your time, but there is something I need help with.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you do,¡± Cynthia stated evenly, ¡°But you know you could just make a request with the guild and they could probably do better than a little girl.¡± The man fumbled with his shop keys, almost dropping them as he got the front door open to usher them all inside. ¡°Thing is,¡± he began, ¡°this was not something they have the power to arrange to fix. And I am quite desperate for anything that can help with my situation.¡± Penelop, distracted by everything within the store once they entered, turned her attention back to Ulfric. ¡°And that is?¡± ¡°Truth be told, my wife is very sick and I am at my wit¡¯s end about it.¡± ¡°Tell us more about it.¡± Penelope and Cynthia were taken to one of the backrooms, a small kitchen with a table with just enough room for two. A third chair was pulled from somewhere and dusted off, so Penelope could have a seat as well. They were served tea and after Cynthia gave it a sniff and a thumbs up to Penelope, they enjoyed their warm drinks as Ulfric explained himself. ¡°My wife and I came from across the sea, from the country of Narhand,¡± Ulfric explained. ¡°Me, her and our daughter.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a long way to come from,¡± Cynthia stated, sounding surprised. Penelope looked up at her guardian at that. ¡°Is it really that far away?¡± ¡°Yeah, Narhand is across the ocean. It takes months to cross it to get to Birain.¡± ¡°It did. My family barely had enough to survive on while on that ship, and barely enough to get ourselves a home when he landed in Ceralde. But we got by and eventually opened our store.¡± ¡°But why not open the store back in your home country, Mr Ulfric?¡± Penelope asked. Ulfric smiled sadly. ¡°My home country of Narhand has gone through many bad things,¡± he explained simply. ¡°War, famine, diseases¡­it was all I could do, in order to give my family a better life and there is no better place than Birain.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± How awful. Seemed like even this new world was not exempt from the same terrible things that plagued her former world. Though Kasumi rarely exposed herself to international news (or even local news), due to not wanting to cause herself depression over the state of the world, even she was not ignorant to the concepts. Probably because her own father had kept yelling about how the new generation was ruining the world, complaining about how the world was going to Hell in a hand basket and how some people deserved what they got. Kasumi used to argue with him, when she was younger and had the energy for it, but those topics just became taboo to discuss with the man, whether he supplied the information himself or not. Kasumi had bene privileged enough to have to never know what war was (though it did feel as if a famine had passed through at times, since she barely got enough to eat). ¡°So, you said that your wife is sick? What does that have to do with Penelope¡¯s workbook?¡± Cynthia asked. Ulfric sighed. ¡°This illness¡­it plays with my wife¡¯s mind. Most times she is peaceful, but there are times when she is more fiery than a vengeful spirit, shouting and screaming. If I don¡¯t watch her closely then she would hurt herself. This all began when we lost our daughter a few months ago.¡± The story was quite sad. Ulfric¡¯s wife, Matilda, had been outside shopping with their daughter, Velma, who was around the same age as Penelope. It was a normal trip to the market, where Matilda bought items for their dinner that night, while Velma helped by carrying a basket with some of their groceries. Matilda had only turned away for a second when her daughter was snatched up. The woman gave chase until she stumbled and fell, losing sight of her daughter and her kidnapper. Both of them did everything they could to try and find her, including making a request at the Adventurer''s Guild. ¡°Oh, I remember seeing that notice a few months ago. So it was for your daughter,¡± Cynthia whispered solemnly. ¡°I never even applied, because it seemed out of my scope of abilities. It was the beginning of the rainy season, so my tracking skills would have been useless. And I know most others would not have tried, either¡­missing persons are some of the most time consuming requests, especially if there is a chance a child was taken far away to be sold off.¡± Considering the time that passed, it would only get more and more difficult, too. According to Cynthia, people who worked at the guild did work that assured them money and or were fast to complete. Missing persons required money and time in order to track that person down, and even if someone did have the money to start off with, finding someone was not guaranteed, thus turning the quest into a money pit. The local guardsmen did do their part as well, but if the person wound up outside the town, then there was truly nothing they could do. ¡°Yes, that wound up being the case. Since we are still new in town, we did not have enough money to care for my wife and pay any expenses incurred for the request. I do not stop hoping to see my sweet Velma, but I know I had to make a choice¡­I do not wish to lose my wife as well.¡± Penelope felt so bad. That truly was a terrible choice to make. Either he put forth everything they had to try and locate their child, and possibly lose his wife by the time she is located, or look after his wife¡¯s health so she may live, but have the very real chance he would never see his child again. No one could easily make such a difficult choice, he must have thought a long time about it. Probably even placated his wife by even putting up the search request in the first place. Cynthia, though, had her own opinions. The Cyno female slammed a fist on the table. ¡°That¡¯s terrible! What about your daughter?! I¡¯m sure she¡¯s also going through a lot!¡± Cynthia shouted, clearly impassioned by the situation. While she was not kid crazy as Minerva, it was clear she also cared about children. ¡°If it were me, even if I was penniless, I would have made it work! A child is a sacred gift! She must miss you, she could be hurt, or scared, or ¨C¡± ¡°Hey, Cynthia¡­I¡¯m sure it wasn¡¯t that simple,¡± Penelope said, trying to calm Cynthia, who was angrily baring her teeth. ¡°Mr Ulfric probably really thought long and hard about it.¡± Ulfric, looking deflated after being shouted at, bowed his head. ¡°I know it is selfish, but what would you do if you were in danger of losing anything? I have no other choice.¡± Cynthia looked ready to bite his head off, but Penelope put a hand on her companion¡¯s shoulder, shaking her head. The Cyno female stopped, but her face was taut. Clearly, this whole thing bothered her. ¡°So¡­what kind of help did you need from me?¡± the little girl asked quietly, getting back to the reason he requested them to talk. Ulfric nodded. ¡°My wife¡­her mind has deteriorated since we lost our girl. I have had doctors take a look at her, but they could not find anything wrong with her. I¡­I just think she has a broken heart and spirit, from the shock of the loss. When I saw the details of your drawings, I thought maybe I could help her heal a little¡­¡± ¡°How so?¡± Penelope coaxed. ¡°I would like for you to draw a picture of my daughter,¡± Ulfric said, ¡°artists are far and few in Ceralde. Most you find here are passing warriors, travellers and folk who had never picked up a pencil in their lives. The only ones who may have the capability are the upper class who could afford art lessons and supplies for their children. Please Miss Penelope, grant me this request. If my wife could see my daughter¡¯s face again, there might be a chance of granting her some peace¡­¡± Ulfric fell into tears, clearly stressed about the whole affair. He had a store to run, a sick wife to look after and a missing daughter to worry about ¨C it all weighed down on him. She could see the signs of a man who spent sleepless nights searching, days working and carrying on lest something else broke. However, the pace he was going, he would break down and be of even less help to his wife. When was the last time he even had a chance to talk to someone, to let out all of his sadness? He had reached out for help, but no one was looking his way and he was in an impossible situation. Penelope remembered days like that as Kasumi. Needing to balance everything so everyone around her could be happy, so she could live some semblance of normalcy at home. As long as she kept going, everything would be all right, she had told herself, until it really wasn¡¯t. Penelope did not want someone becoming so hopeless that they crashed and burned. Knowing all this, she knew what to do. She went over to Ulfric and reached up to pat the older man¡¯s cheek. ¡°There, there,¡± she said. ¡°I understand. It must have been very hard for you.¡± The older man looked at her, shocked at her kind words. The tears still flowed, but he managed to push through a smile and nodding. His hand placed itself atop hers, closing his eyes to squeeze the tears out once more before letting out a shaky laugh. ¡°It must be something, to see an old man cry.¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± Penelope said. ¡°Everyone cries. Everyone is sad. It¡¯s normal.¡± Ulfric chuckled at her words. ¡°Yes, everyone does.¡± Taking a breath, he moved away from Penelope. ¡°I may not have much, but I will do my best to repay you,¡± he told her. Penelope waved it off politely. ¡°Well, let¡¯s talk about payment later? You won¡¯t know if my work will be worth much in the end,¡± she stated. Ulfric shook her head. ¡°I may not look it, but I am a proud businessman. Remember this Miss Penelope: always make sure you clearly state a price before offering services or people may take advantage of you.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Cynthia interjected. ¡°We can probably talk more about this tomorrow. As one of her guardians, I need to speak with her other guardian. Shall we make arrangements to meet again later?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, of course!¡± Cynthia and Ulfric arranged a time during the next day to meet again, hurrying along when they heard Penelope¡¯s stomach rumble. Good timing for it; Penelope was hungry and the others would probably be worrying about where they went. By the time they stepped out, darkness had settled in. To save time, the Cyno female picked up Penelope and dashed for the restaurant at breakneck speed. The girl yelped at the first lurch, but soon got used to the windy speeds. ¡°You sure about this Nellie? You didn¡¯t have to help.¡± ¡°I know, but¡­it seemed really sad. If I can help his wife feel a bit better, why shouldn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°I still think it¡¯s wrong for a man to abandon his child like that.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡­I don¡¯t think he abandoned her. He hasn¡¯t given up. Being given up on by a father¡­I know what that¡¯s like. He wouldn¡¯t be still trying, if he has really given up on his daughter.¡± ¡°I suppose. The request is still available at the guild¡­I¡¯ll apologize for snapping later. Thanks for stopping me, Nellie.¡± ¡°Mmm-hmm.¡± Penelope was curious as to why Cynthia was so bothered by Ulfric¡¯s actions, but felt like now was not the time to be asking about something that may be too sensitive. Now that she thought about it, the Cyno female also got upset whenever the subject of Minerva¡¯s father was brought up, too. There must be quite the story there. Hanging onto Cynthia, they eventually arrived at the restaurant to meet with Minerva and Yule. CHAPTER 8 – The Artist Makes a Portrait The Ivory Rapier was a slightly higher end restaurant where the financially stable frequented and those out on a bonus liked to celebrate at. The large dining room was cleaner than most taverns, though no less rowdy. Some members of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild came here to eat after a long day as well, so the crowd inside was something of a mix compared to a fully formal restaurant or a simple pub. This restaurant was Minerva and Cynthia¡¯s favourite place to eat when they wanted to treat themselves, and today, Minerva was treating them all to a nice meal away from home. Minerva and Yule had already secured a table for their group and Minerva stood up once she saw Penelope come in with Cynthia. ¡°There you are! Over here, you two!¡± the mage called out. ¡°Hi love,¡± Cynthia greeted with a quick nuzzle. ¡°Where were you?¡± Yule piped up as Penelope sat down beside him. ¡°Oh, we had a bit of a detour. I accepted a job,¡± the girl replied. Minerva blinked, then looked over at her partner, a clear question in her eyes. Yule just seemed exasperated. The rundown of what happened was given to the other two so they could be up to speed. Cynthia and Penelope explained together, allowing Minerva all the information she needed to advise on their next steps. ¡°Well, the only problem I can foresee is that the Adventurer¡¯s Guild may feel like their toes are being stepped on,¡± Minerva stated. ¡°The bureaucracy there is ironclad and almost oppressive at times, if you don¡¯t follow their policies. However, there are workarounds. Would you listen to my suggestion?¡± Penelope nodded; she was eager to lend a hand to Mr Ulfric, but did not want to cause anyone trouble. ¡°Have Mr Ulfric make a new request at the guild, this time asking for a piece of art and let Cynthia accept it. While the guild is pretty stingy on letting people make certain requests outside their walls, they rarely ever question where items come from.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Cynthia ¡°We actually had a bit of a scandal and a need for rules revision a few months ago, when someone submitted a request for an item that was already owned by someone else. No one at the guild knew, but the clerks had the huge headache trying to sort all of that out.¡± ¡°Indeed. But! For the moment, let¡¯s put that aside. We are here to have a nice dinner together,¡± Minerva said, reminding everyone the reason for being at the Ivory Rapier. ¡°What do you suggest, Miss ¨C er ¨C Minerva?¡± Penelope quickly corrected herself when the mage gave her a stern stare for trying to be formal, again. ¡°The meat stew~!¡± Cynthia almost howled gleefully, already knowing what she wanted. Minerva rolled her eyes. ¡°Gluttonous carnivore, not everyone wants to eat that much stewed meat like you do.¡± ¡°I just know what I like.¡± Yule had the menu next to him and shared it with Penelope who barely understood what was on there. While there was not a large selection, it was still a full page of symbols and characters she did not recognize yet. Some she knew like the word for ¡®vegetable¡¯ or ¡®soup¡¯, however, some words she did not quite know yet, mainly because some characters she couldn¡¯t recall by heart. It was easy enough to identify the prices, though, and she mentally balked at them. Penelope could feel a small trickle of sweat going down her temple as she tried to convert the amounts into yen, which she was more familiar with. What is this? And why is it 40 Draks?! If one Drak is 150 yen, then.this item is around 6000 yen? The girl looked over at Minerva with a nervous smile. ¡°Ah, just get me the cheapest thing. I don¡¯t feel too hungry,¡± she fibbed. At that moment her stomach chose to growl very loudly. Just enough that someone from a neighboring table could comment. ¡°Oh, my little miss. You must be very hungry! Remember to eat loads so you can grow up big and strong!¡± the almost giantesque man said. His skin was covered in patches of stony flakes and he had a broader frame and taller height than most of the customers in the restaurant. He grinned at Penelope who looked away in embarrassment, laughing even. How embarrassing. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide there until dinner was over. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the price, Penelope. This is a treat. A treat!¡± the older woman insisted, covering up a smile with her hand. ¡°Hn¡­still, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s on the menu¡­¡± Penelope mumbled, unable to look anyone in the eye. ¡°I¡¯ve never really eaten at a restaurant before, so I don¡¯t know what¡¯s good to eat or to try. My parents always said it¡¯d be a waste to take me.¡± The air became sombre around her and Penelope worried she said something wrong. There was a dark look shared between the two adults, a silent conversation happening in seconds in that one look. ¡°Well, what do you usually like eating?¡± ¡°Ah¡­food?¡± Penelope answered vaguely. She didn¡¯t know why they were asking. ¡°Cynthia shook her head. ¡°No, no, no¡­like, what do you like? Do you like salty food? Sweet? Spicy?¡± Oh, that¡¯s what they meant. Thinking on it, she never paid much attention. As long as she could eat something, it was fine even if it was expired. There were many memories of late night expired meals she would grab from the convenience store, eaten cold from the container, but she¡¯d gotten used to that way of eating. Well, when she could afford it. Even something at a hundred yen was painful to pay for back then. And even when she did like something, it soon became her sister¡¯s favourite and Kasumi had learned to give up on liking anything, lest it be taken away to be given to her. ¡°I don¡¯t have any favourites.¡± Again, the two adults seemed to frown in silent conversation, though they now shot a glance at Yule, who nodded at them. ¡°Well, that¡¯s no good. All right¡­we are going to order some food and we will share from each of our dishes! And you can see what you like.¡± ¡°Wh¨Cno, no, no, you don¡¯t need to do that. Just something small is enough, I could even wait to go home and make something there¨C¡± ¡°No. A treat is a treat. And you are going to enjoy it, end of discussion,¡± Minerva insisted. Penelope gulped and nodded. Good grief, they were quite pushy, weren¡¯t they? The next time the server passed by, Minerva gave their orders and asking for an empty plate. The meals went as follows: Yule ordered a creamy soup made with wild mushrooms; Cynthia got herself a meat stew and Minerva asked for a plate of roasted chicken with vegetables; Penelope was welcomed to try a bit from each of their dishes before they would ask for her own dish. Minerva¡¯s dish was fragrant, the vegetables crunchy and fresh. They were seasoned just right, which appealed to Penelope. While the meat was salty, it was not overpoweringly so, and was tender and moist. Cynthia, well, got the stew and while she expected it to taste like the one she created the other night, there was just something deeper in the flavor of this one. A depth found only when the meat truly was allowed to sit in a pot for hours, tenderizing and melting into the other flavors surrounding it. It truly was delicious and Penelope could understand why it was the Cyno female¡¯s favourite meal. As for trying out Yule¡¯s meal¡­ ¡°Here, have some,¡± he offered. A spoonful of his soup was held out to her to try. Just looking at it, the soup was creamy and even a little thick. A potage, maybe? There was a savoury, yet earthy aroma to the soup that just made your mouth water, most likely due to the slices of wild mushrooms in there. Penelope moved closer and chomped down on his spoon directly, without taking hold of the spoon, effectively making Yule spoon feed her. Penelope recognized the taste of the soup as cream of mushroom and, oddly enough, the very taste of it made her eyes sparkle. Yule looked a little less please, however. ¡°Wh¨Chey, you weird girl, you were supposed to hold the spoon yourself!¡± ¡°Eh? You weren¡¯t just holding it for me?¡± ¡°Who would do that?!¡± His voice went a bit higher, as did the temperature of his face. The boy was red faced. He gave her the spoon, now that it was empty. He even went as far as pushing the bowl towards her (though he still grumbled). ¡°Here, you like it, right? I¡¯ll order another one for me.¡± ¡°Oh, thank you, Yule¡­¡± The girl suddenly felt a bit awkward, having a meal pushed onto her, but the taste of this soup really was delicious. The creamy, smooth taste of something milky¡­yes, this was something she honestly liked. The mushroom was diced and their flavor had settled well with the other ingredients; easy to eat and enjoy. ¡°It¡¯s¡­good.¡± Minerva and Cynthia shared a look again, though they were more amused than anything else. ¡°I guess you like milky things?¡± Cynthia asked, as Minerva waved someone down to order more. ¡°Yeah. Milky foods are yummy. I guess eggs are good, too. I remember eating those when I was little, and they were always so good,¡± Penelope admitted, not seeing a strange look cross Minerva¡¯s face as a server arrived. The older woman made another order as the rest of the table enjoyed their meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was a bit busy, but not generally bad. Penelope learned to drown out the myriad of voices all around her so she could just focus on her friends here. Not used to long conversations outside of work related matters, Penelope had been slowly warming up to the thing known as small talk. Nothing dire to discuss, just little things in their daily lives, little stories or just topics they felt like talking about. Penelope mainly listened as was her habit, but she was opening up, blooming like a flower bud that finally got some sun. Soon, their plates were cleared. However, the meal was not yet finished. A new plate was set in front of each person. Penelope just stared at the item in front of her. A silky smooth surface and a whole body that jiggled gently as the plate was moved. The top was a deeper colour than the rest, dyed that way from the caramelized sugars set when the dish was first baked. There was a slight smoky scent accompanied by the mellow smell of milk and eggs mixed with sugar. On the plate itself were dollops of whipped cream and shavings of chocolate, to give the plate a fuller look. Penelope knew what this was. Pudding! She thought, stars in her eyes. Goodness, she hadn¡¯t had one since she was sixteen years old and a classmate was giving out samples made by their family¡¯s store. Before that, her last stint with a pudding cup had been after her sister got her first taste of pudding and demanded more and Kasumi¡¯s had been taken as a result. Everyone had one, so it meant that the confection in front of her was meant for her, but she couldn¡¯t help asking anyways. ¡°This is for me, right?¡± Minerva gave her a soft look. ¡°Of course it is, my dear.¡± A pause. ¡°Unless you want Yule to feed you some of his again¨C¡± ¡°Shut up, you old hag!¡± ¡°My, my, my, where are your manners, my nephew¡­¡± Ignoring the usual squabbles between nephew and aunt, Penelope turned the plate around, just taking the pudding in at every angle. Its soft body swayed gently at the movement, which tickled Penelope¡¯s fancy enough for her to shake the plate on purpose and watch it jiggle merrily. She was so engrossed in this that she hadn¡¯t realized the others were now watching her every move. When she did realize it, she stopped, placing her hands on her lap as a blush crept up her neck. Oh, my god. I¡¯m 38 years old, why am I acting like such a kid? Oh, well, I guess I¡¯m not 38 anymore¡­am I 40? 48 now? Agh¡­. Before anyone could say anything she picked up her spoon and took a small bit off the top where the caramel was the strongest. She took a bite and positively melted as the flavor of the pudding hit her. The soft creamy texture of the confection just disappeared the moment it hit her tongue, spreading a refined sweetness throughout her taste buds. It¡¯s so tasty, what the hell¡­Penelope was almost in tears. The giant man at the nearby table loudly cut through her thoughts. ¡°There you go! Look at that happy face, hahaha!¡± The urge to hide came over Penelope again, however, she thought it by bringing up the cloak more around her face and continued to enjoy her pudding. She was practically wriggling with silent joy with every bite. Coming to the conclusion that she was entitled to enjoy her food however she wanted (even if it made her feel silly), Penelope relished her pudding until the last bite. New life, new me! I should try to enjoy things a bit more. Who knows when the next time I can have something like this again. The night ended on a cheerful note, Minerva paying for their meal and the four of them heading back home to the shop to rest up for the next day and the work ahead.
The next day, a plan was put into motion. Ulfric was told to make a brand new request at the guild; before anyone else could snatch it up, Cynthis would step in and they would do the proper interview process wherein Ulfric accepted her for the job. All to keep things above board, should there be any rumblings at the guild. ¡°I don¡¯t know when it started, but it¡¯s always been this way for a long time. Supposedly there was a king that believed in workers being fairly compensated and protected and this is why the guild goes after people who try to work around doing odd jobs, unless they are in a specified trade,¡± Cynthia explained, being the most knowledgeable among them on the topic. ¡°While anyone of any age can make a request, it¡¯s pretty regulated on who can answer them.¡± Once again, Penelope got the impression of a very strictly run temp agency. Why was all of this necessary? Because even though Penelope said art is her passion and hobby, it was still considered work and she should be compensated for it. This was a workaround until she could legally join the guild and work on her own. Until then Cynthia and Minerva were responsible for her. She also didn¡¯t know what to think of that. It was useful, because being so young in this world was quite the disadvantage. She had no guarantors, no connections to fall back on or true understanding of how everything worked. Honestly, she was grateful they decided she had to stay with them until she figured out something more permanent. Minerva hugged her tightly, rubbing her cheek against Penelope¡¯s as part of her usual morning ritual. The action was meant to be friendly and to promote a bond, yet the mage had a habit of being pretty aggressive about it. Penelope squirmed and it seemed to spur her on further. ¡°Waaaah! Come on Minerva!¡± ¡°Just a little more. I need my daily dose of cute Penelope!¡± ¡°You have your nephew here!¡± ¡°But he¡¯s nowhere near as cute as yooooou.¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Another couple of (long) seconds, she was eventually released so she could truly begin her assignment. This time Yule accompanied her, which allowed Cynthia to perform other duties and ongoing requests she had. While travelling to Ulfric¡¯s shop, he held her hand so they wouldn¡¯t be separated, glaring at anyone who got too close. She couldn''t ask for a better bodyguard, his stares were so effective at keeping possible ne''er do wells away. And since they were together, essentially alone, there was a question she had been meaning to ask. ¡°Hey, Yule?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°What do you do when Minerva and I are working at the shop and you disappear?¡± She had only noticed it recently; sometimes Yule would disappear for around sixty minutes during shop hours. It wasn¡¯t a long time, yet she did notice it happen enough times to want to mention it. Yule seemed reluctant to answer though. ¡°There¡¯s¡­just a lot of things I have to settle.¡± ¡°Because you had to leave home, because of what happened in the capital?¡± He nodded quietly. ¡°Yule¡­are you in big trouble?¡± Penelope tried, gently. ¡°...Maybe¡­I don¡¯t know. I haven¡¯t decided yet.¡± Penelope blinked. How did one decide whether or not they were in trouble? If they were in trouble, they would just be, wouldn¡¯t they? Of course, a detail did pop up. ¡°Say¡­why were you not travelling with your parents?¡± she asked. ¡°Whatever reason you can come up for not going with yours,¡± he shot back, but regretted it when Penelope winced. ¡°...Sorry. That was kind of nasty of me, huh?¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay¡­¡± she murmured, looking at the ground. A silence stretched between them for a bit, before he decided to open up. ¡°My mom died a few years ago, so there¡¯s definitely no way she could come with me. And my dad¡­he¡¯s among the victims in the capital.¡± Oh. Now she felt like the insensitive one for saying anything. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I asked. You must be so sad¡­was he a good dad?¡± Yule nodded his head. ¡°As good as he could be. He was strong, fair and kind. Many loved him.¡± That was an odd way of describing his father. ¡°Did you?¡± ¡°Well, we didn¡¯t part on good terms¡­¡± Yule scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. ¡°...the last time I talked to him before everything went wrong¡­I said I hated him. I wish I didn¡¯t. It was a stupid reason.¡± ¡°Sounds like you do love your dad, then. I¡¯m so jealous. The last time I talked to my dad, there was only bad words shouted at me.¡± She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. Looked like the two of them had many regrets in common, even though they came from two completely different backgrounds. ¡°What was your mom like?¡± Penelope asked, moving the conversation along, hopefully to a less painful topic for Yule. His expression softened, though there was still a hint of wistfulness to it. ¡°My mother was a very gentle woman. She spent every day that she could with me when I was very little and even as I got older and she got busier, she always made time for me when I wanted it. She¡¯s very different from Aunt Minerva, but she was still talented at magic and worked at the castle as a court mage.¡± ¡°Wow, that¡¯s actually really impressive. So, you¡¯ve been to the castle before?¡± Penelope asked, eyes wide in amazement. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been there, you could say,¡± he said, with a mischievous smile. There was something suspicious in that and Penelope was about to prod further, but they reached the stationary shop. The door was locked, so they needed to knock loudly to get Ulfric¡¯s attention, as he said he would be caring for his wife on the second floor. It took a minute, but they saw a head pop out of a window a second before the door was opened and the older man was ushering them inside. ¡°Hello, Mr Ulfric,¡± Penelope greeted politely. ¡°Hello, Miss Penelope,¡± he returned, almost breathless. Did he run down the stairs to open the door for them or had he been doing something strenuous beforehand? ¡°This is my friend, Yule, he¡¯s going to be escorting me today,¡± Penelope explained, gesturing to the boy beside her. Yule gave a curt bow in greeting at the same awkward moment Ulfric offered his hand for a shake. Laughing, he grasped the boy¡¯s hand regardless and gave a hearty shake, almost knocking Yule unexpectedly off his feet. ¡°Good lad, keeping an eye on your little friend,¡± Ulfric said approvingly. ¡°Y, yeah¡­¡± They were lead to the private part of the shop where Ulfric made it a home with his family. Instead of the kitchen, he took them upstairs to the second floor, opening up a door to a small room. Penelope could tell that it had been lovingly decorated for the child that once lived there. A small bed with a little canopy above it, with pink fabric draping it. The mattresses looked quite soft and luxurious, with several stuffed animals sitting on the pillows. More toys littered the floor, which now had a thin layer of dust, as if nobody dared to enter since the girl¡¯s abduction. A small desk was set aside a wall, next to a modest dresser. Looking at the contents of the desk, there were several children¡¯s drawings of a family in various scenarios, the most common being the three of them eating a meal together. Penelope carefully moved through the room, careful not to disturb anything, not even the dust. ¡°This was Velma¡¯s room, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°We kept it as it was when we lost her,¡± Ulfric explained. ¡°The missus insisted we never move anything, so she could return as if nothing changed.¡± The man stood at the edge of the entrance, looking around as Penelope explored. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I looked in here¡­too painful, you see¡­.but I thought you might like to know what kind of girl she was like¡­and how much we loved her.¡± And Penelope agreed, now arriving at the child¡¯s bed, seeing the hand made quilt sitting atop everything. As someone who had to mend her clothes over and over until they were just strings as new clothes for herself were a luxury, she could see the effort put into each stitch. Was this the wife¡¯s work? The bedroom truly had the feel of a child who was whimsical, probably dreamed of fairy tales and adventures and had no small amount of love poured into her. Being an only child, the couple must have decided to give everything possible for her. And now she was gone¡­but hopefully not lost. While there was a high chance they would never see Velma again, Penelope sent out a silent prayer that they would be reunited again. Giving the room one more once over, she took notice of a certain detail¡­ ¡°Say, do you not keep pictures of the family in your home?¡± Penelope asked, wondering if things like photos existed. Since he asked her to draw his daughter, she assumed there would be nothing of his daughter, but there was nothing else? Ulfric shook his head. ¡°Artwork of that magnitude is considered a luxury. Most artists charge a lot.¡± ¡°How much?¡± Ulfric told her a figure and Penelope¡¯s brain nearly exploded. I could afford a whole plate of wagyu steak with that much! The girl internally screamed. Those artists must be very good, if people were willing to pay for professional portraits. Well, that answered whether or not photos were a thing in Iralon¨¦, or at least Birain. Who knew what was possible in other lands. Now she had to think back on her own commission fee, which, after conversion, was the equivalent of a single piece of wagyu steak. I only know how much it costs because I always had to compare beef prices when buying groceries for the house as Kasumi. But knowing that, I feel a little bad about it. However, everyone was working to let her get compensated fairly, for her level of skill, so perhaps it would be all right in the end. She had fought off the guilt of accepting the one copper coin she got for helping Cynthia the other day, so she would have to do so when she got her payout for this job. Said copper coin had a special spot in her pocket right now; she was not going to spend it and hoped she could maybe frame it or turn it into a pendant to commemorate her first earned Drak¡­ ¡°All right, I think I have a small sense of who Velma is¡­could you tell me more about her, Mr Ulfric? Give me as much detail as possible, so I can make the perfect portrait of her!¡± Penelope was pulling out her own parchment and her second to last piece of charcoal, when Ulfric stopped her a moment. ¡°Hang on Miss Penelope, you¡¯re going to use that for the portrait?¡± Penelope blinked. ¡°Well, yes? It¡¯s what I used for my workbook.¡± ¡°Miss Penelope, tell me where we are.¡± ¡°Er¡­your house? Well, I guess your shop, really.¡± ¡°And what do I sell?¡± ¡°Stuff like stationary?¡± Ulfric nodded approvingly before heading downstairs. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my saying, Miss Penelope, but I want you to do the best work you¡¯re capable of. Charcoal smudges over time, so I think I will gift you a brand new pen as part of your payment.¡± ¡°Huh?! N-no! I can¡¯t accept something so expensive!¡± ¡°I insist.¡± The shopkeeper¡¯s words seemed final and Penelope had no choice, but to accept what he gave her when he returned. The pen was what one would call a standard model, made of black lacquered wood and simple finishings. It was not exactly the most luxurious pen to ever exist, but it was definitely better than anything Penelope had ever owned in two whole lives. It was set within a case with two little capsules filled with dark ink. Ulfric set it in her hands. Here it was. The dream she had long been looking forward to for nearly forty years. A fountain pen. A luxury she only managed to attain through death and sheer luck. Having it now was almost bittersweet. It took a few instructions for her to load it up; she held it so reverently in her hands, almost tearful. ¡°I promise to earn this precious gift,¡± Penelope promised. She rarely ever used a pen before, so she would need a bit of practice. She still had her charcoal, which she would use for the drafts, putting as much effort as she could to bring Velma¡¯s memory to life on paper! With this in mind, she looked to Ulfric, ready to hear his description of Velma. ¡°All right! Just leave it to me! This will be the best portrait ever!¡±
¡°....the nose is too sharp.¡± ¡°Ah, all right¡­¡± Scribble, scribble, scribble. ¡°Her hair isn¡¯t that long, either.¡± ¡°Understood¡­¡± Rub, rub, rub. ¡°Oh, and her eyes need to be much rounder than that¡­¡± ¡­Aaargh! This sort of thing is precisely why I didn¡¯t do commissions in my old life! And this was much worse, because the client was actually in the same room as her, breathing down her neck as she sketched out the description he gave her. It had started out simple enough, but Penelope soon realized how much in over her head she was, trying to tackle this request. I wonder if police sketch artists ever felt this frustrated while working a case with a nitpicky witness? Penelope thought as she redid Velma¡¯s eyes one more time. As frustrated as she was, Penelope took care with each line she placed on the paper. While this was just a draft piece before making the real thing, she thought long and hard on the details he gave her, of the kind of girl she was. Sometimes Ulfric went on tangents, telling her stories instead of descriptions. It¡¯s how Penelope came to the conclusion of what kind of expression Velma would have in the final picture. And she wanted the picture to be as pretty as possible. The drafting process took all day and she went through several pieces of her parchment, which led to her old habit of using both sides to conserve her supply. While Ulfric had been generous to supply her with a pen for the final draft, she did not realistically expect him to part with more of his merchandise by giving her high quality paper as well. One had been set aside for the final portrait, though. ¡°I think she needs a break,¡± Yule piped up from his spot at the kitchen table where they were all seated at so Penelope could draw. Nonchalantly, his hand came up to her forehead, touching it softly, causing the girl to blush. ¡°See? Her brain¡¯s going to turn to mush soon.¡± ¡°I can keep goin¨C¡± Her stomach chose this exact moment to rumble loudly. ¡°See?¡± Yule said, as if that proved his point further. Ulfric nodded in understanding. ¡°Yes, goodness¡­how long have I kept you two? It¡¯s well past lunch time. I¡¯ll prepare something for us,¡± the older man said, getting up from his chair. Penelope moved to do the same, eager to help out, but Yule stopped her. ¡°You, sit down and rest. What¡¯s the point in taking a meal break, if you do the cooking, too?¡± he scolded. ¡°But¡­¡± Ulfric waved his hand dismissively, as he pulled some bread and cheese out of the pantry. ¡°You listen to the lad, Miss Penelope. It won¡¯t take but a moment.¡± Penelope felt guilty about doing nothing, but nodded, staying put. Yule sighed, placing a hand on top of her head to give it a pat. ¡°Good grief, you¡¯re a handful.¡± Penelope just pouted silently. ¡°Do you normally push so hard?¡± ¡°It¡¯s what I am used to,¡± Penelope replied sheepishly. ¡°It¡¯s good you¡¯re a hard worker, but you don¡¯t need to work so hard,¡± he stated. ¡°You¡¯re just a kid.¡± ¡°So are you,¡± Penelope returned. ¡°Just means I know what I¡¯m talking about,¡± he said smoothly. No hesitation. Lunch was simple, just slices of bread and cheese. Ulfric showed his affinity for Natural Magic, specifically fire as he gently broiled the top of the cheese with a small flame from his fingertip. It was a fun little display for Penelope as he served her cheese toast. She happily thanked him for the food and ate her meal with gusto. Yule was also served with her and he ate more sedately. A third plate was set at the table for the shopkeeper, but he had a fourth. Penelope asked for it. ¡°Oh, this is for my wife. She would probably be hungry as well,¡± Ulfric explained. Right. His wife who became ill after Velma disappeared. Throughout this whole thing, she hadn¡¯t seen neither hide nor hair of her. The poor woman must be very sick indeed. ¡°May I come with you?¡± Penelope asked. The portrait was to help the poor woman recover, so she wanted to meet the person who it was meant for. Ulfric thought about it for a bit, but slowly nodded. ¡°Just for a moment, then.¡± Penelope told Yule she¡¯d be back soon, before following the shopkeeper upstairs. The room shared by Ulfric with his wife was just a few doors further than Velma¡¯s room. The light was kept lower in this area, relying solely on natural lighting, so things were a bit dimmer. When Ulfric opened the door to the bedroom, Penelope saw that it was even darker in the room. ¡°Oh, Ulfric,¡± called out a soft voice. ¡°Is that you?¡± ¡°Yes, my dear. I brought you some food.¡± ¡°And who is your guest?¡± ¡°This is Miss Penelope, she¡¯s helping me out with a few things.¡± ¡°I see, I see. My, how young you are. My name is Matilda. Come closer¡­¡± the woman beckoned. A thin hand gestured towards the girl, reminding her of how she used to look. As she moved closer to speak with her, she saw the gaunt face, the thinning hair and body and felt so sad for this woman. She must have been stressing herself out so much over the loss of their daughter, never knowing if she was alive or dead. Penelope went over and held the woman¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°Hello Ms Matilda, I¡¯m Penelope. I hope I¡¯m not disturbing you.¡± ¡°Not at all. It is good to get visitors. I hope my husband isn¡¯t troubling you too much?¡± Penelope shook her head vigorously. ¡°No, not at all! He¡¯s actually been very good to me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good. What is it you are doing for him?¡± the older woman asked. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m¡­¡± She looked over at Ulfric and he nodded. ¡°...I¡¯m drawing some pictures for him. He even gave me a nice pen to do it with.¡± Matilda smiled gently. ¡°Is that right? You know¡­my daughter¡­she used to love drawing a lot, too. I couldn¡¯t stop her even if I tried. My dear, sweet Velma¡­she would be around your age, too¡­may I see your face, my dear?¡± Here Penelope tensed. Up until this point, she had always made sure to keep her face covered up. While Ulfric and Matilda seemed like good folk, it was a precaution in case unsavory people spotted her and decided she would be a good mark to get snatched up. Missing children was a real problem in Ceralde. Penelope really hesitated on what to do. However, the tender, sad look on the woman¡¯s face was really getting to her. There was a plea in her eyes, a hope. Sorry to say, she was not her daughter in disguise, finally come home. Penelope wasn¡¯t sure and Yule was back in the kitchen, so he couldn¡¯t give her much advice. Without even glancing over at Ulfric, she could guess he would encourage her to do so, out of love for his ailing wife. Well, they were on the second floor and the curtains were drawn, so it should be fine? It was dim enough in the room, so it should be all right to pull down her hood. The woman did in fact, look disappointed, but she quickly covered it up with a gentle smile. Her hand raised and gently caressed her hair. It was a bit strange, as her hands were so thin from malnutrition and a little awkward, but Penelope endured it, thinking it may bring her some comfort, at least. When she did leave the bedroom so she could enjoy her lunch in peace, Penelope heard a few sobs from that bedroom, colouring her resolve to try and help as much as she could. If her artwork could reach her and truly heal the hurt Matilda suffered, then she would work extra hard! In the end, it took Penelope about two days for the draft. She came to visit the next day with Yule in tow again, so she could receive as much instruction as possible for the picture. The final version would be worked on at Minerva¡¯s shop, once she got the vision that Ulfric wanted, right down to the last detail. Velma was a cute girl, with a bob haircut. He asked her to fill in her hair, so it seemed she had been a brunette, like her mother before her hair went grey with worry. Wide, round eyes and a cute button nose. Little dimple in the right corner of her mouth when she smiled and a playful look in her eyes. Penelope put everything she could into the draft, thinking over and over how much she wanted to help the couple from the stationary shop. Let this bring Ms Matilda peace, Penelope prayed over and over. Let Mr Ulfric find joy in his life again. When she felt the draft was ready, she showed Ulfric for final approval before she got to work on the commission. Tears peaked from the corner of his eyes as he stared at the drawing, holding the paper so gingerly he may accidentally drop it. His hands trembled and a tiny little sob left his lips and he needed to take a moment, covering his face with a hand. ¡°That¡¯s her,¡± he rasped out. ¡°That¡¯s my Velma. My beautiful girl. I never thought I would see her smile again.¡± There was no better approval than that, knowing she captured the girl¡¯s essence in the draft. The work on this sketch was done, now time for the real thing. Knowing that she would no longer be working on the charcoal draft, along with the thoughts of kindness she poured into her craft, her power unintentionally activated. Now, Penelope had never tried to recreate a person before. It never occurred to her to try to create living beings using her special ability. Penelope had always just assumed she could only do objects, rightly so. And what came out of the page could not be called alive. Much like every other time, golden light poured forth from the page, in twinkling light the lines lept off and formed together the semblance of a being. You could call what came to be more a shade, rather than a real person. An impression of the girl Penelope had spent the better part of two days recreating. A ghostly afterimage, now staring all the shocked people in the room. Yule stepped in front of Penelope, unsure as to what he was seeing. Ulfric was rubbing at his eyes, unable to fully process what was going on, either. ¡°V¡­Velma?¡± he gasped. The ghostly little girl did not respond. She simply turned around and began walking out of the room, her hand raising as if to hold onto an adult¡¯s hand. Ulfric tried to grab her, yet phased right through, like she was made of nothing. ¡®Velma¡¯ kept moving, with everyone following her, Ulfric trying to plead with her to respond and Penelope quite alarmed as to what was going on. ¡°Velma¡­Velma, please¡­say something. Is that really you?¡± Ulfric asked. They had followed her to the front of the shop, watching her as she stopped a moment, as if waiting, before phasing right through the door. Ulfric cried out seeing this, but Penelope broke away from Yule, slamming the shop door open. Outside, dusk was turning into the night, so not many were out on the streets, either already home or searching for their next meals at any of the taverns. The ghostly Velma was spotted not far away, walking down the street. Was she¡­recreating the path she took on the day she was taken? Penelope had to keep following. ¡°There she is, we can¡¯t lose her,¡± Penelope said, immediately following despite Yule¡¯s protest. ¡°Penelope, wait!¡± the boy called out, but Penelope ignored him. He cursed, yelling over his shoulder at Ulfric to alert Minerva and Cynthia at the magic shop. He followed after Penelope and the shade as night slowly descended over Ceralde. CHAPTER 9 – The Artist Follows the Trail Following behind the ghostly apparition led Peneloper through the market area of Ceralde, where it was said Velma had been last seen. The girl stopped in a variety of places, likely the stops where her mother had searched out the right ingredients for dinner. The stalls had been long put away, but she could already imagine the bustling scene of the market during the day, with so many sounds, people and distractions. The mother and daughter would have felt safer, as there were so many eyes, so many people, how could the child have gotten taken away? And yet, all it took was a moment of inattention. Suddenly the apparition was lifted up into the air, held sideways and was being sped away hastily by someone unknown. I see, I managed to recreate Velma as she was on the day she was taken away, but nothing else, Penelope rationed. However, since the streets were clear and nothing stood in her way, Penelope was able to keep following the trail, a glimmer of hope growing. Would she be able to find the missing Velma and return her to her family? Ms Matilda and Mr Ulfric¡­they had suffered so much these last few months¡­if she could ease their suffering, then¡­! But boy, whoever had taken Velma sure was quick on their feet. Penelope was barely keeping up with the drawing spectre. She could feel a stitch growing in her side and her lungs burned terribly, but who knew if she would be able to get another chance, if she stopped. Just keep going Penelope, you¡¯ve handled worse before, this is nothing! You chased down rowdy students half your age, you can do this! Wherever Velma was being taken, it took Penelope through streets she was unfamiliar with. Through back alleys that a young girl had no business being in. Of course, in the moment, she was not thinking of herself as a little girl, but that former 38-year-old security guard chasing down a perpetrator. Her path took her all the way to the docks, a place she had yet to visit. The sea breeze hit her harder here, yet, Penelope didn¡¯t have the time to enjoy discovering something new, wholly focused on her task. The trail ended when Velma was taken aboard this ship, her spectre suddenly disappearing. As the end of the road was in sight, Penelope was going to climb onto the ship, when a hand grasped her arm firmly. Thinking it might be one of the kidnappers, she was about to scream but another hand covered her mouth. She struggled as she was being dragged out of view of the ship, panicking. ¡°Geez, calm down, it¡¯s me!¡± whispered a familiar voice. ¡°Mmmf?¡± Yule? Yule took his hand off of her mouth, but still kept a hold of her hand as theory made it back to a corner they could hide around, out of general sight. ¡°That was very dumb, Penelope,¡± the older boy scolded. ¡°What if the kidnappers had kidnapped you, too and I didn¡¯t make it in time? What would you have done then?¡± ¡°I would have¡­.done something,¡± she replied, unable to come up with anything else. Yule gave her a stern look, reminding her of his aunt. ¡°You and those skinny little arms of yours?¡± Penelope had nothing to say to that. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re thinking half the time, but I need to remind you that you are just a kid, Divine Magic or not. You barely know how to control it.¡± The girl looked down at her feet, not wanting to say anything, because he was right. Just what did she think she would do once she got there? She wasn¡¯t an adult anymore, she could barely fight back against Yule and he was barely a head taller than her. I¡¯m still thinking like Kasumi. ¡°I got Mr Ulfric to go get my aunt and Cynthia. If we wait, they should track us down soon,¡± Yule explained. ¡°How? We ran so far, I don¡¯t think they¡¯d be able to find us.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry Cynthia¡¯s nose will take them to us. She knows what we smell like, so she¡¯ll find us in no time.¡± ¡°Wh¨Cshe can really do that?¡± ¡°Well, she is a Cyno woman, after all. Her sense of smell is way stronger than ours.¡± Well, if that was the case, how come she (or other Cyno people) hadn¡¯t tried to find Velma? Yule seemed to read her mind as he said, ¡°It has to do with time. A Cyno can only track down a scent that¡¯s as old as a day at most. From what I gathered, it must have been about a day when Mr Ulfric and his wife made the request at the guild.¡± Oh, so that was why. Made sense, then, why Cynthia had not taken the job herself. Once a trail ran cold, even those with heightened senses had trouble finding a missing person. And if time is money, then chasing someone that is difficult to track really would be a money pit. Well, they could help now and that was honestly all that mattered. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying we should wait for the adults?¡± Penelope asked. ¡°It¡¯s the safer option, yes,¡± Yule answered. Penelope nodded, hunkering down at a crouch. ¡°Okay! But I want to keep an eye on that boat! That¡¯s where I saw Velma get taken.¡± ¡°You sure it¡¯s that one? The boats could have switched.¡± Oh, he had a point. If it had been the wrong boat, then Penelope could have gotten into trouble for trespassing on someone¡¯s ship. Although, she hoped it wasn¡¯t, because then they would lose any lead they had on finding Velma, bringing everyone¡¯s hopes up for no reason. ¡°I¡­really hope we can find Velma, somehow,¡± Penelope stated honestly. Whether or not she was on that boat was still up for debate, but she hoped and prayed that the missing little girl would be found soon. Remembering the thin and frail looking Matilda, wasting away from heartache and worry¡­ Penelope¡¯s clear blue eyes stung with tears. To be so helpless and unable to do anything, people giving up on you¡­no one trying to help. Stressing yourself until you were a shade of your former self. Nobody should have to feel that way! A small cry cut through the air, drawing the attention of the two children. Coming up to the boat Penelope had taken as a point of interest was a rough looking man, followed by an accomplice of equal shadiness, holding a girl Penelope had never seen before. The child had loosened a gag around her mouth and was calling for her mother. She was quickly shut up with a strike, which shocked Penelope to see. She almost got up from their position to go confront the brutes immediately, but Yule thankfully had a sobering hold of her. He shook his head, signalling for them to stay quiet. Penelope understood, they had to wait for the adults, however, how could she just sit by and do nothing while that little girl was being abused? Just seeing the girl roughed up even a little made her blood boil. But what could she do? Think Penelope, think! She thought desperately. What was she even capable of doing at this point without getting Yule and herself into danger? Her hand slipped into her bag, maybe hoping for something to cause a distraction. But all she found was paper, paper, paper and¡­ Penelope was so frustrated, all she found was her drawing items. All her life, all she wanted to do was draw. To do art to her heart¡¯s content. However, now that all she had to her name was a few coins and art supplies, she almost cursed herself for being so ill prepared for anything outside of that! They were bringing the child up the plank as she continued to valiantly fight back, even when the men smacked her to keep her compliant. Her gag slipped again and she must have said some kind of incantation, as the water from the sea rose up and splashed all three of them. She used Natural Magic, the element of water to try and slow them down. That child was fighting, she couldn¡¯t give up. Magic¡­If only she¡¯d learned more of it so she could use it effectively. Wait, there is magic I can do. But would it work? Looking at the men hitting the girl one last time, knocking her out cold and seeing her go limp, Penelope made a decision. There was no time to hesitate, it was do or die! Pulling out a sheet of paper and the new pen Ulfric had given to her, Penelope made a quick sketch. There was no time for something detailed and long lasting ¨C it didn¡¯t need to last, just be enough of a nuisance that would keep those men busy. She didn¡¯t know if there were more (and realistically, she calculated for at least a good half dozen more by the size of the ship), but if she could keep everyone here, it would give them time for Cynthia and Minerva to arrive. A fierce face, a striped tail and sharp teeth; a tiger! It was the first thing that came to mind. On a whim, she drew on a collar, her imagination making it a tamed tiger on the fly. Yes, so that it would listen to her incase whatever she drew was too wild to do what she wanted. Her intent was to scare and keep those kidnappers from going in with their newly captured child and nothing worked better than a tiger, at least in her mind. In a flash of gold, the tiger leapt off of the page, a solid construct that resembled the creature she was aiming for, compared to the ghostly vision she had made of Velma. Maybe since she didn¡¯t think of anything in specific it simply created the real thing? Though the collouring was off, it held the colours of the parchment it came from and the charcoal she used for its stripes. The collar which had a bell attached to it, like those of domestic cats jingled softly as it bowed down before her. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Yule was, understandably, shocked at what he saw. ¡°What in the world?!¡± Ignoring him, Penelope gave the tiger drawing her orders. ¡°Go help that girl!¡± The tiger bowed once more, before bounding away at surprising speed. Penelope watched as the animal quickly made its way to the bottom of the gangplank and let out a startling roar. For a fake existence, it sure had a loud bark! Hopefully its bite would be as strong. The two men were frightened by the appearance of the beast who came at them, dropping the girl on the gangplank and attempting to run inside the ship to safety. The tiger managed to grab one by the shirt, while the other managed to get away. Oh, not good. Worse yet, in the scuffle of the kidnapper trying to fight off the tiger (who held on tight), the little girl was starting to slide off the plank and was in danger of falling into the water. Unconscious as she was, if she fell in she was in danger of drowning! Meanwhile, shouts of others came from within the ship, alerting of the danger outside. ¡°Ah, they¡¯re coming out,¡± Penelope said from their hiding place. The man the tiger had grasped had been unceremoniously tossed into the water by the tiger, the man flailing in the water as he screamed bloody murder, demanding for someone to give him a hand as others came out. The tiger growled, now standing protectively over the girl. Since the gangplank was not that wide, they couldn¡¯t surround the tiger nor escape any other way. It was quite the stand off. Wondering what could be done, at this point, a large lance of ice suddenly flew across the air. It sailed gracefully until it met its target, knocking one of the men over into the ocean. I think I saw that pierce his chest! In the following moment, there was a howl, a sound so piercing and haunting that it almost resembled a siren. Another man suddenly fell off the plank silently, something glinting sticking out of his body and he crumpled over to his watery grave. Nearby stood a familiar, sleek figure, licking her chops as she glanced over to the children as she passed. ¡°We have a lot to talk about, but I am assuming those are the bastards, right?¡± ¡°Considering they have an unconscious child in their custody, it probably wouldn¡¯t be hard to assume. If we are wrong, we¡¯ll just apologize later,¡± Minerva said casually as she followed up to her partner, an eerie smile on her face. ¡°What¡¯s that strange creature up there?¡± Cynthia asked, trying to figure out what the tiger was, though she did deduce it was trying to help the girl. ¡°I, er¡­I made that,¡± Penelope helpfully supplied, not sure what else to say. ¡°Oh, dear¡­now what did we say about using that unique magic of yours, Penelope?¡± ¡°Ah, well¡­nobody saw me, I promise!¡± Minerva sighed as she prepared another spell, writing a magic circle in the air with the tip of her finger. It created blue lines as she traced the air, formulating another ice spear that materialized. ¡°I guess we can scold you later. Stay close now, my dears. Cynthia and I will take care of the rest.¡± Being attacked by the tiger and the appearance of Cynthia and Minerva on the scene, the men decided to beat a retreat back onto the ship. The girl was left behind, deemed not worth the trouble they were going to. Calls were made, voices shouted to cut their losses and go. They were going to set sail. Someone on board must have an affinity for wind magic as Penelope felt a strong gust of wind begin to pick up out of nowhere as she saw several people on board preparing to unfurl the sails. They can¡¯t get away! The gangplank was also being pushed off so that any pursuers would have trouble following. This nearly knocked the unconscious girl off into the water, but the drawing tiger grasped onto her and jumped back onto the dock before she came to harm. Time running out for it due to its quick sketch nature, the tiger disappeared into nothingness. Minerva and Cynthia split up; Cynthia would board the vessel and aggressively take out the people on there, while Minerva would provide long distance support from the dock, so she could keep an eye on the children. Shouts of pain and anger filled the air, the commotion growing so much that people from the town started noticing. Windows from the nearby houses opened up and people peered outside, shouting for the disturbance to quiet down. People couldn¡¯t help but thinking, typical bystander reactions. But from a few that yelled, it seemed the local guards would be alerted. Well, good. The more attention from the authorities the better, honestly, maybe they¡¯d get more help. ¡°Well, children, since you¡¯ve been missing out on lessons, how about we have a quick one tonight?¡± Minerva suggested as she continued to casually toss large icicles at the ship. Not enough to sink it, but enough to cause chaos to the brutes on board. The top of the ship was littered in chunks of ice. ¡°Is now really the time, Aunt Minerva?¡± Yule asked, brow raised at the casual carnage both woman were causing. He distinctly heard someone yell something like ¡®not the family jewels!¡¯ in a pitiful voice. Cynthia was not showing these guys any mercy it seems. ¡°Now is a great time,¡± the mage said in a dangerously sweet voice. ¡°So, take a look at this Natural Magic spell I will teach you! It¡¯s low level, so you should be capable of learning and using it right away.¡± While one hand continued to nonchalantly draw the same intricate magic circle over and over, casting the same spell she had been using since the moment she arrived, the other hand began to show them another, more simple, magic circle. ¡°This spell will make a wave of water rise up,¡± Minerva explained, firing off another icicle with her other hand. When she fired off that second spell, it did cause a sizable wave to push the ship back, just halfway up the side of the boat. ¡°One of you couldn¡¯t make one as big just yet, but the two of you together could do it. I¡¯m sure you can guess, those people will be trying to escape. They will likely use wind magic to sail off with their ¡®cargo¡¯. So, the best thing we can do to delay them until Cynthia finishes up.¡± Yule copied what his aunt had done, attempting to cast the spell. As said by Minerva, his wave was nowhere near as high, but it did cause the ship to move a little, giving it a small shake. Penelope, wanting to help, followed suit. Taking a breath, she imagined the wave, placing her intent into manipulating the water to stall the ship. There was the sound of thick fabric unfurling and she knew she needed to hurry. The circle had been simple, so she quickly copied the movements, clear blue light following her finger as she traced the air. When she made the final stroke, the spell was cast. Though it was nowhere near as small as she was expecting. Yule¡¯s had been a respectable wave with less power behind it, while Minerva¡¯s was a strong one that visibly rocked the ship. What rose out of the sea looked more like the hand of Poseidon ready to slap the fear of death into you. A wave as tall as the ship¡¯s mass splashed hard against the starboard, slamming several people trying to tie down the sails away from their posts. Some even fell off the ship as water sloshed off the sides of the deck. Penelope was aghast at what she had done and hoped she hadn¡¯t hurt Cynthia, wherever she was. That must be the level 10 Magic at play here, hahahaha¡­ The local guard showed up, demanding what was going on and since Penelope did not feel like it would be a good idea for her to use that wave spell again, she let Yule take lead on delaying the kidnappers as she explained the situation to the authorities. ¡°Some bad men tried to take away a girl Mr Guard!¡± Penelope said, laying it on a little thick. As best as she could, she channeled her spoiled sister who could sound like a kicked puppy at will. If it worked for her sister, why wouldn¡¯t it work for Penelope? With hands clasped and peering up at the adult men under her hood, she really sold it as much as possible. ¡°I followed them from town and saw them tie her up and hit her, it was soooo scawy!¡± Ugh, why does it make my skin crawl to talk all ¡®uwu¡¯? At least she was in the body of a ten year old, but she couldn¡¯t help feeling weird doing it. And her sister did this all the way to adulthood, to boot. Truly, she was too spoiled by their parents. Props to her for being consistent with her acting, I guess. The men seemed to be taken aback by her display, some clutching at their chest in pain. Was her performance too fake? However, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder (making Penelope flinch as she did not enjoy being touched by strangers) as the adult man practically wept tears, proclaiming he would help. ¡°Don¡¯t worry little girl, the town guard is here. We shall go save everyone!¡± he cheered, garnering the same from his fellows. They went ahead, charging up the ship after making their own plank to board the ship. It was achieved through their team effort of Water and Wind Magic working together to create a bridge. This had the double advantage of allowing the guards to enter the ship, but also keep it firmly glued to the docks for a little while longer, though considering the carnage caused by Penelope, Cynthia and Minerva, the girl doubted anyone would be trying anymore. It was over in minutes after the guards boarded. A crowd gathered too from the town proper, drawn by the commotion and abject curiosity. A few men were tied up and brought down by the guards, looking worse for the wear. Later Penelope would find that the majority had been taken out by the combined efforts of Cynthia and Minerva, or washed into the sea by Penelope¡¯s own doing. No one knew what happened to the ones who ended up in the sea, but at least a few were captured for future interrogation, because the kidnapping of Birain citizens was not exactly a new thing. Following the guards and their captives, came a small army of children, all girls at various ages. Penelope clocked the eldest at no more than sixteen with the youngest being a heartbreaking toddler being carried by an older girl. Penelope looked at them all, at least a dozen girls who had been forcefully taken from their homes, some crying from relief that the nightmare was over, some just looking blank faced, as if haunted. Who knew what these girls had been through. Cynthia was leading the girls, gently coaxing them to follow her with promises that everything would be all right. Some of the smaller ones were carried in her arms, one balanced on each side. The Cyno female looked roughed up, but was otherwise all right. In fact, though she kept up the gentle air, Penelope noticed the proud glint in her eyes; this was a warrior who was not sorry about what she had accomplished this night. ¡°Penelope, over there,¡± Yule said, nodding at the crowd of girls. The girl looked at the group of children, scanned them quickly until she saw a familiar head of bobbed, dark hair. She seemed unsure of herself, looking around furtively, wringing her hands as she followed closely behind the others in the group. In the same moment Penelope spotted her, Ulfric arrived on the scene, followed by more people who spread out to meet the excited shrieks and cries of many girls. Witnessing so many parents be reunited with children they thought they would never seen again, to see the love evident in the eyes of all those mothers and fathers¡­it caused a pang in Penelope¡¯s chest. Even watching Ulfric spot his Velma, rushing over to her, scooping her up and spinning her round and round. The way he kissed her face over and over, tears streaming down his cheeks. It¡­.it really hurt, that she never got that. And she felt bad, feeling that way. She should be relieved and happy. People were returning to their families. And even if they weren¡¯t here right now, these girls would eventually get to see their families again. Even if she did have her family here (which she really did not want), did she even have anything to go back to? What did she have to look forward to, other than a smack to the face and ungratefulness for her help? Penelope swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat as heat came over her face and tears fell. A steadying hand held onto hers. Next to her, Yule was also watching the happy scene, face stoic, but his eyes also glistening. Ah. He lost people he loved, she remembered, and wouldn¡¯t ever get to see them again. It was a joyous occasion, but the two of them were held together in a similar pain; him to mourn what he had lost and her to mourn what she never had. But in their joined hands, at the very least, they had each other. ¡°Thank you for helping, Yule.¡± He made a small noise of acknowledgement, squeezing her fingers a little more. Minerva and Cynthia were working with the local authorities to make statements as the guards sorted everything out. Parents speaking others who had gathered from the town, receiving congratulations. A few expecting parents did fall to their knees in despair as their children were not among those saved, given condolences by other bystanders and guards alike, promises that the search would continue. Penelope¡¯s heart would only go out to them the next day, but right now she wished to act like the physical age she was, to feel jealous and sad. She had that right, didn¡¯t she? As the scene continued to unfold, Penelope rested her head against Yule¡¯s shoulder while he held her hand, the two just watching quietly until it was their turn to go home with their guardians. CHAPTER 10 – The Artist is Rewarded Interrogations were done with the captured kidnappers the night of the rescue. There was also a lot of statement taking and making, which delayed many people heading home, as there had been many witnesses that arrived at various times. Even the children were not spared from being asked questions, dragging the legal process on when they would either burst into tears or just stare blankly off into the distance. Not every child returned to their families, some having been captured from other locations, which was why the investigation was so important. The kidnappings were a much bigger issue. Even before Velma¡¯s kidnapping a few months ago, the disappearances had been happening at least a year beforehand. Many had suspected the intense desperation of the temples of Tulilith to try and find a new devotee with divine powers, as their numbers had declined in recent years, leaving a scant few that mainly resided at headquarters which left the rest of the country in a bad situation. When traditional medicine could not be relied upon, people sought out the clergy to be healed. This became more clear as more and more people were succumbing to dangerous maladies caused by coming across monsters while travelling. However, since the numbers of such individuals dwindled, it was impossible to meet demand. And what did the temple of Tulilith do? They recalled all available clerics back to the main headquarters, squirreling away their powers within the walls of the grand cathedral where they could help no one, but those who could afford the tithing¡­ Now, why were they looking for more devotees with power? There were many reasons and rumors, though the most popular whisperings involved finding a female child, blessed by the goddess who would be taken as a partner of the current heir of the second bloodline of the royal family, the Claridieu. As none of the current generation seemed to have the qualifications on their own aside from bloodright, that family wished to truly secure their heir¡¯s future as the next ruler of Birain by marrying one with divine power to them. As the heir is still a child, it would work best to find one in equal enough age. Of course, this was only a rumor amongst the people of the capital and then leaving their walls to spread throughout the country. Such things even reach the very edges of the kingdom, all the way in Ceralde. Few things were pulled from the captured kidnappers. They had taken the job from someone they had never met, whose origins were unknown, so the guards had no idea if it was a local human trafficking ring, someone from overseas or something else entirely. It was quite disappointing. However, they knew the requirements needed for their marks: young girls, ages 10 - 16, of any background. Confirmed as one of the girls found on the ship belonged to a noble family two ports south of Ceralde; she matched the portraits passed around by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and would be taken to her home through an escort paid for by her parents.Truly, whoever was pulling the strings had no discrimination, did not even worry about bringing down the wrath of a noble. Few would boldly do that, unless they had the power to back it up, hence the rumors of the Claridieu trying to secure their positions. Things were quite busy in Ceralde, trying to, perhaps, find a new lead by checking the ship¡¯s log from the boat housing all the kidnapees. The inside had been quite dirty, dank and poorly kept. The holding cell was small, too, and that was where Cynthia had found all the girls, cramped up and clinging together in order to give each other room. When questioned about their time in captivity, many hearts sank when told that there were other girls with them. The ones who had been there the longest, the elder teens, said that a few couldn¡¯t survive the conditions and had been unceremoniously tossed into the sea as ¡®defective goods¡¯. So there would be many out there left without closure, as the girls had no idea who they had been or where they came from. After experiencing death for the first time (and it always happened so quickly, more often than not) the children just did not get too close, only clinging out of necessity. Crying children were beaten, since they had not been given orders to be gentle, only to gather as many as possible, from anywhere and everywhere. So, everyone in that situation had been distant, but banded together just so they could keep each other from making things worse. Of course even with this band of brutes put away, it did not mean that the streets of Ceralde were safe for children to traverse alone. In fact, right after triumphant moments like these was when the worst could happen. An order across town was put into place to stay extra vigilant, that children should be accompanied by an adult or in pairs as long as they were ten years or older. It put a damper on many locals, as these restrictions were so harsh, but the parents who still hadn¡¯t reunited with their lost children yet fought back, shouting about how one should not shirk proper safety and security. The restrictions for children would be lifted eventually. For now, this was best for everyone. There was a very tense air in Ceralde, despite the pockets of happiness everyone was trying to find in the moment.
The next morning, Penelope and Cynthia went to visit Ulfric¡¯s shop to check up on the reunited family. Ulfric welcomed her in with a grand, but tired smile. The bags under his eyes said that he hadn¡¯t slept a wink, yet with how much he was beaming, he couldn¡¯t be any happier. The shopkeeper grasped her hands and bowed his head over them. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to thank you, Miss Penelope. My little girl¡­she came home. It¡¯s all thanks to you,¡± he said, full of emotion. Penelope shook her head. ¡°Ah, no, I didn¡¯t really do anything at all. Cynthia and Minerva did all the hard work, after all¡­¡± ¡°No, if it weren¡¯t for what you did...none of this would have happened. I don¡¯t know how you did it, but I witnessed a miracle that day¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡± Cynthia interjected, scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably. ¡°Part of why we came here was to ask you to keep quiet about that. See, what Penelope can do¡­is supposed to be a secret. You probably know why.¡± In a flash, all of the man¡¯s infectious joy sobered up, turning into a serious expression. Just a glance at the girl whose hands he held in gratitude, to the Cyno female watching over her, he understood immediately what she meant. ¡°Yes, I am no fool. The moment I saw her face the other day, I knew I had to keep quiet. I don¡¯t know what those temple people are thinking, just assuming they can take anyone into their fold as they please.¡± Turning to Penelope, his expression softened and he gently squeezed her hands. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, little miss. You saved my daughter, so I will never tell a soul about what you did. But I will be eternally grateful to you.¡± ¡°Speaking of, how¡¯s Velma? And Matilda?¡± Penelope asked. Instead of answering them, the man beckoned the two to follow him upstairs to the second floor. At his insistence, they moved quietly, no words uttered as he showed them to his shared room with his wife. Slowly creaking the door open, Penelope peered inside the dimly lit room to quite a heartwarming scene. Mother and daughter were curled around each other, arms wrapped around the other as they slept. There was a peaceful expression on both of their faces, though there had clearly been signs of tears on both their ends. Penelope was so relieved. Hopefully with this, Matilda could recover together with her daughter after all of the trauma they had faced the last few months. Knowing that things would be all right, she gestured to everyone that she had seen enough, smiling all the while. A good deed done, she thought. ¡°If you ever need anything from me Miss Penelope, don¡¯t be shy about it. If there is a kind of pen or paper or other supply you¡¯d like me to stock, just let me know! You will never find any finer stationary supply anywhere else in Ceralde!¡± Ulfric told her as she delivered the drawing (she made another one during the night as she had trouble sleeping) that was promised in their original request. ¡°Such talent deserves to have good supplies. I can¡¯t give them out for free, but I can find them for you for a good price. You are always welcome at my store..¡± Penelope, looking utterly enchanted at the idea of getting herself good art supplies, waved happily as she and Cynthia went on their way to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. They all agreed on a cover story in order to minimize Penelope¡¯s involvement in the public eye. This is how it went: while completing a request to attain an artwork for Ulfric, Cynthia ended up scenting an item that belonged to Velma on the off chance that she might come across her. Fortune struck the other night as had caught the scent of her near the docks and pursued it, after alerting Minerva to come give her a hand. Because they did not wish to leave the children home alone, they deemed it safer to keep them close by as both adult women were strong. The ruckus they caused last night was by their efforts to hold them as the criminals were in the midst of kidnapping another local girl. This was the story submitted to the guild and given to the local guard. It did not matter if the story seemed sketchy, that was the official story spread around that morning as well among the townspeople. People, of course, talked, adding in the bits and pieces they managed to witness or heard from others who may have been at the scene the other night. There was mention of the two children in the care of Minerva and Cynthia helping with the efforts with the use of magic. Though that part of the tale was given smaller consideration than the contributions made by the warrior and the mage, the people did appreciate them helping out. On the way to the guild to pick up the reward (and to fill out a lot of paperwork) many people gave Penelope little bags of candy as thanks for helping out, while Cynthia had to endure some scolding for allowing the children to get involved in the first place. Every time that happened Penelope would whisper an apology to the older woman, knowing she had to take it for her sake. Her little satchel was positively full of treats by the time they did get to the guild. They had business in there for two things: fulfilling the request for the art commission and filling in the paperwork for the various requests about the missing children. While the forms to be filled for the art commission would be fairly painless, the stacks of paperwork concerning the rescue of the children were not. Apparently, if you fulfill a request without clearly going through the proper procedures there is a lot of red tape to go through. Mainly because, if you had not claimed the request as your own from the beginning, other less honest members of the guild could attempt to fraudulently claim the payout as their own. Completing requests raised your rankings, which made people see you as more reliable and trustworthy, thus getting you more jobs in the future, which meant for money coming your way. Cynthia was currently a Rank C member of the guild, comfortably in the middle. Ranks were determined by how many you have done within a certain amount of time, how many you completed, the speed in which you completed them, the difficulty of the request and the quality of the services rendered. Cynthia did not choose to do many high leveled requests, however, the number of middle and lower ranking ones she did were a high amount and she always pulled through for them. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The additional paperwork, after confirmation of everything, would also raise her rank to a Rank B. Tracking down missing persons and having them alive, apparently, was slightly higher profile work and since several of them were recovered all at once, it made sense for her to rise up. Cynthia honestly didn¡¯t want to, but that was how things worked. Weirdly enough, it was harder to lower your rating than it was to raise it up. Something about being understaffed when it came to harder jobs, so you had to royally mess up (or really be unmotivated, as Cynthia had done a long time ago, apparently) to make people lower your rank. As gratitude (and an apology) Penelope came along so she could help Cynthia fill out the forms. She had a slightly better grasp of the language and even if she couldn¡¯t read it all, she was getting quite good at writing out the characters in Cynthia¡¯s place. Her handwriting was quite neat and tidy, plus her hands were also dextrous, once she got the hang of a word. Even when she hesitated on how to write a word, she was much faster than Cynthia when it came to writing something down (she was a bit clumsy with pens). Plus, my days as an office worker made sure I knew my way around paperwork, Penelope laughed mentally. I can laser focus until I got a pile down to nothing. With the two of them chugging away at the forms, they managed to cut down what would have been an all day affair for Cynthia to just a few hours of focused writing. Penelope did admit she had something of a cramp in her fingers by the end, as this body was not used to such punishing torture. The paperwork was submitted and they would be alerted later when everything was verified. The clerk smiled at them and said, ¡°Oh, you¡¯re the first to make a claim on those requests.¡± Cynthia was surprised, clearly expecting no small amount of jerks to try and take credit for everything. The clerk simply smiled, though Penelope could tell there was no kindness in it. It was almost devious. ¡°Oh, well, we at the guild always want to make sure we properly do things. Can¡¯t leave out any details, after all, and go through all the formalities¡­so I actually added much more paperwork than usual for anyone who wanted to claim the reward money. I insisted that they all must be claimed at once, or none at all. Hahahaha¡­¡± So, in essence, if someone tried to scam the guild by trying to claim just one quest for what happened last night, they would be deterred from the sheer amount of paperwork of being forced to claim it all. Man, that¡¯s scary smart. The lady at the counter brought out their reward for the drawing submitted for the one request they officially took. Ulfric had already alerted the guild that he received the artwork already and was very satisfied with the quality of the work, so when they visited they¡¯d be paid right away. Five gold coins were placed in front of them and Penelope had to blink, recalling what these were. If a copper is 1 Drak and ten of those make a silver coin, which is 10 Drak, and ten of those would make a gold coin, which is 100 Dr ¨C wait, holy cow! We are being paid 500 Drak?! Her shocked expression must have been obvious as the guild clerk laughed. ¡°Oh, Mr Ulfric expressed his great happiness at the portrait he received, so he gave a bit more than was originally agreed. We already took our part, so this is what¡¯s left.¡± ¡°Thank you very much,¡± Cynthia said, gently lifting up her charge¡¯s dropped jaw. ¡°Are you able to exchange one of these into silvers for us?¡± ¡°Not a problem!¡± the clerk chirped, completing the transaction. The Cyno warrior chose to receive 50 Draks, while the rest was given to Penelope to keep, which shocked her. ¡°Huh?! Am I really allowed to have so much money?¡± she asked, voice in a hush in case someone overheard. She had no idea what passed as a lot of money in this world, but to her this was a substantial amount. 450 Draks seemed like a lot to give to a child, who only caused trouble. ¡°Hey, you did the most work on this one, I was only your go-between. This amount is enough to cover that. Plus, we¡¯re looking at a bigger payout later,¡± Cynthia said, assured of herself. ¡°If you say so¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re not used to having anything, aren¡¯t you?¡± Penelope shook her head, laughing nervously. ¡°Is it that easy to tell?¡± Cynthia nodded. ¡°Yeah. You look like a noble girl, but you act like a girl who¡¯s never seen a Drak in your life.¡± In all fairness, I technically had never seen one until I came to this world, Penelope thought privately to herself. It had been easy to accept and be grateful for a single Drak, but this felt like too much for just a simple picture. It wasn¡¯t like she had painted a portrait with the best oils, framed it and did anything special. Had she done that, such a reward would have made sense to her. The quality of the items to match the quantity of the pay. And as far as she was concerned, her drawings are mere doodles. ¡°...You¡¯ll learn your worth one day, Nellie,¡± Cynthia said to her gently, nuzzling her cheek. Smiling at the affection, the girl rested her head on the older woman¡¯s shoulder as she carried them back home to Minerva¡¯s shop. Her bag and purse were full and so was her heart. Honestly, things couldn¡¯t get any better.
¡°So¡­the second family has gone as far as this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s only rumours, but everything has a basis in reality¡­I suppose it would be harder to keep a throne that was stolen away through bloodshed and violence.¡± Minerva and Yule were discussing in private at the shop, while Penelope and Cynthia were out on errands together. The older woman seemed pretty exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with her partaking in the chaos of the other night. Her hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply. ¡°I¡¯m assuming that THE other family decided that they needed to make things official by having your brother be engaged to someone blessed by the goddesses. Of course since we haven¡¯t seen any blessed individuals in Birain for years, all current candidates are either the wrong gender or are too old.¡± Ever since the original succession debacle where the families lied, cheated, killed and stole, there were only two ways of claiming the throne, short of being ordained by Tulilith herself the way she wished it. The first was being of one of the bloodlines, who happened to be in power. Rankings of authority depended on which family you were born from, as the further you were born in the bloodlines, the harder it was to verify you claim to the throne. It was all recorded in the journals of the early kings of Birain who claimed to be the reincarnation of King Ionian Laertes Raviseul; the reality was, there had only ever been one true confirmed reincarnation and that was the king who began the bloodline of the first family. The rest were questionable at best, due to the foul play that followed the second king¡¯s death. Yule had not been privy to the entire truth, but knew that the kings who came from the first bloodline had their suspicions. Honestly, it was all so stupid, but such was how their country chose its rulers. The throne passed hands several times, making it almost a game of musical chairs with who would sit on the throne at any given time. If they could find the records from those times, maybe he could find out the truth, but for the moment, there was not much he could do, but to wait. Every day was a struggle to find out anything he could to throw back upon the people who ruined his family, who ripped him out of his former life and tried to kill him, too. Minerva had a wealth of knowledge hidden away in her shelves, given to her for sake keeping by his mother when they were younger, under the guise of studying the rich past of the country to create new history books. Thank goodness she had them, as the royal library had been ransacked during the coup. That was where he had been when the royal guard crashed in to grab him and run, after he fled his bedroom where his sister had been murdered in cold blood. He remembered the flash of fire magic covering the walls, taking with them the precious knowledge accumulated by the kings of yore. Maybe their hope was to bury the truth hidden within those pages. The only one spared from the first family was his half brother, who also carried the blood of the second family. His other brother and little sister had not been so lucky. Poor Clymene and Lochus. They were still so small and smaller yet when their mother had passed away. Yule had fought hard to keep their family together, so that their father would never forget them and pass them over for his other son or their eldest brother. He regretted being unable to protect them. If he could get his hands on those who wronged him, he could cut out their hearts himself. ¡°It¡¯s been a little while since you came here¡­so what will you do? Have you decided on your course of action, my dear nephew?¡± Minerva inquired, drawing him out of his dark thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ll get stronger,¡± he replied with conviction. He stared at his young hands, clenching and unclenching them. After witnessing Penelope¡¯s ability the other day, he knew he had a lot of work cut out for him and a lot of choices to make. ¡°If I don¡¯t everything will be for nothing.¡± ¡°And why not just live peacefully?¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t. Not with Cly and Lo both gone. At the very least¡­I have to pay those bastards back for my little brother and sister.¡± ¡°And what of Penelope?¡± The elephant in the room needed to be addressed. Among them was clearly a divine blessed child, a young girl who was pretty impressionable, who did not know how the world worked or even of the kind of political climate she was in. The danger she was actually in, by remaining in Birain. When a child born by the will of the gods came, it was always announced in a divine revelation. Months ago, before the coup, one of the priests received such a message. A girl child of divine right will appear in Birain in the coming days, blessed by Tulilith. Upon this news spreading, the lives of the heirs of the throne would be forever changed. The eldest son, Ulysses, who had the strongest case to become the next king, had his position weakened. His siblings, worse so. Clymene was considered already out of the running as the youngest and a girl, was looked down upon even more. Lochus became ignored as well. The second prince, a boy born to a concubine, was a different story. Unlike his half siblings, the second prince boasted the authority and power of two royal bloodlines, that of the first and second. Not only that, he had the entire temple of Tulilith standing behind him. Before this news had arrived, their faction had already been loudly calling for him to become the heir apparent, but the King had refused, choosing his eldest son to be his successor. Despite being first born and the child of the legal queen, people looked down on him and his siblings due to their mother being of lower birth. They were not commoners, but were close enough. The family of an upstart Baronet, their mother had met the king by pure chance and against all odds, and married into the royal family. His half brother, Antinous, did not have such troubles. Though his mother was not the legal wife of the king, she came from a prestigious family who had incredible political sway. It was he who would be usurping the throne, yet it was clear their family was worried that leaving the divine child may sway favour back towards the escaped Ulysses. Penelope was a good girl. If someone showed her kindness, she would surely do anything to please them. A charming, but also frustrating trait. Things were never boring when she was around. She was almost comically ignorant of her importance and power. He could only imagine what it was like to have the literal power of Creation. He had never seen the creature that leapt off the page before in his life. Maybe it did exist somewhere out there (the world was vast, after all), but no such creature existed in Birain¡­ Honestly, though, to have such power on his side would help him with his cause in the future. All he had to do was be actively kind, make sure to win Penelope to his side and victory would most definitely be assured. But it was a difficult and heavy choice to make and he was still very much indecisive about it, making his gut twist in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. The road to revenge would be ever so swift with someone of divine power at his side, yet he wasn¡¯t so sure he could subject her to such a life. Penelope was a sweet girl, experiencing freedom for the first time. What right did he have to cage her? At his request, Minerva and Cynthia were watching over the girl (with undisguised happiness, since the couple had always wanted children) and would most likely continue to do so until the girl left on her own. And maybe even then, they may still remain caring for her, such was the goodness inherent in his aunts. ¡°I guess¡­I¡¯ll wait for now,¡± he answered, at length. She was such a funny girl. So weird. So sheltered. He just wanted to see her smiling a little more. For now, he would delay making that decision as long as he could, knowing full well there would come the day that he could not hesitate any longer and he would either let Penelope go or force her into a disgusting world of revenge with him. Minerva sighed, getting up to go open up the store, their little break and conversation over. ¡°Well, whatever you choose, my errant nephew¡­don¡¯t regret it.¡± Yule had no words in return. CHAPTER 11 – The Artist Feels Anxious Ulfric¡¯s shop was livelier than she had ever seen it. Now that his daughter was home and his wife¡¯s health was improving, he could concentrate more on keeping the doors open and allowing customers to look around. Penelope had received the payment from a job well down and she thought she deserved getting a few things for herself. There were some expensive choices in the shop, truly speaking of the quality of Ulfric¡¯s wares. It reflected in the well-dressed people now going through the store alongside her, picking out some items. Merchants or nobles, she couldn¡¯t tell, but people seemed happy to be able to purchase something at a reasonable hour (Ulfric kept sporadic and strange hours while Matilda was sick). You can¡¯t deny the feel of a good pen, Penelope thought, knowing that her wrist thanked her whenever she happened upon a cheap, but ergonomic pen to buy for work. Though she had perhaps only bought one every one to two years, using the item until the ink truly ran out. There had been so many tricks she learned to expand the lives of her pens, ranging from running a ballpoint pen along the sole of a rubber shoe to unstick the ball to running old pens under hot water to try and loosen the ink within. It was a horrible experience, in all honesty. It was nice that she could more freely get herself something nice, even though the go-to feeling was to try and squirrel away her money. Although, now that she did have the freedom to buy whatever she liked, she had difficulty choosing. There was so much around her and she felt almost paralyzed trying to figure out what would be the best thing to get. Thinking on what she had on hand, she didn¡¯t need more paper for a bit, her stock was decidedly decent. Plus she also had her work book, if she truly needed a proper surface to draw, but she would prefer to leave it as a workbook. Everything had its place. The things she would most likely need are going to be charcoal and ink refills. As she had only just gotten a fountain pen, she deemed it foolish to get another one, so grabbing more refills would be her best bet. Unless something happened to the pen, she shouldn¡¯t need another and after looking at the merchandise sold, the refills looked like they were standard to all the models. Now what colour to get? ¡°Can¡¯t go wrong with black ink. It¡¯s classical, a mainstay and goes with everything. But a nice blue ink could be good, too. Maybe I could get one when I feel like a change? Oh, there¡¯s red, too. That¡¯s flashy. I could make some interesting highlights using that, oh, but it¡¯d be a hassle if I had to switch the cartridges¡­¡± Mulling it over under her breath, a few adults around her chuckled as she tried to make her choice. There were also pencils to consider, too. None of the ones she saw were mechanical. Most likely no one had invented them yet. What were for sale were akin to the wooden pencils one may see in a school, minus the eraser. That needed to be bought separately and wasn¡¯t what she was used to as well. When she asked Ulfric for an eraser, he showed her this putty-like substance that apparently erased mistakes when rubbed against pencil. Much like the inks, the pencils also had colours, though the selection seemed to be muted in comparison to the inks. She knew there was a process to making the pigments in those pencils and in her old world, many were artificially made in order to retain a brightness not found in nature. Penelope was tempted to get a set, but grabbing one of all the available colours would be quite expensive. She had to be reasonable; just because she had access to money, didn¡¯t mean she should become a spendthrift. ¡°Just a few pencils and ink cartridges is putting me back at least 50 Draks¡­¡± At least the pencils would last her a while. Penelope resolved to only use her pen for when she wanted a finished looking piece and not just for everyday use. After choosing her items, Penelope weaved through the busy shop to get in line with other shoppers. It was moving smoothly, so not much time passed before she was greeting Ulfric at the counter, now accompanied by a sleepy and clingy Velma. The girl was nestled beside her father, fingers tangled in his shop apron strings in order to stay close. Penelope looked at her with such sympathy. Of course she would hang onto her parents as much as possible, considering what she went through. Penelope gave the other girl a smile and Velma shied away and hid behind her father, surprising the artist. Ah, that¡¯s too bad. Oh, well, maybe she¡¯ll talk to me next time. Penelope didn¡¯t let that get her down, though, grinning up at Ulfric from under her hood. ¡°Hello, Ulfric!¡± ¡°Hello, Miss Penelope.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be buying these, please!¡± Penelope placed her ink and pencils on the counter, so she could be rung up. With practiced ease, he gave her the final total. ¡°30 Draks.¡± Silence. Penelope rubbed her ears. Did she mishear him? ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°30 Draks, Miss Penelope.¡± ¡°Sorry, I could have sworn you said 30 Draks instead of 50. I must have wax in my ears, hahaha.¡± The older man shook his head. ¡°No, you heard me right, miss. 30 Draks please.¡± ¡°Why the steep discount?!¡± ¡°I told you before, I am grateful to you and want to see you grow well into your own. You have a talent, young lady. This amount will cover the costs of the items and what it took to bring them to Ceralde.¡± Penelope was speechless, but she accepted it as she didn¡¯t want to argue with him in front of his daughter or the customers around them. That wouldn¡¯t be good for business making a scene nor would it be good to spook poor Velma. However, she did make it clear she was accepting the lower price with the biggest pout possible, to which Ulfric just laughed and grinned, waving her off as she walked away with her discounted quality goods. She would get over it. As it was still advised children be escorted around or walked in pairs out in the town, Cynthia was waiting outside. Today she would be following the Cyno female while she did her requests out near the forest, the adults agreeing the fresh air would do her good. Perhaps being out in nature, sketching the local flora would take her mind off of the recent incidents. Penelope had barely slept a wink and put herself to cleaning in order to work off her anxious energy; Minerva told Penelope to go outside with Cynthia. And so here she was, in the clearing near where Cynthia would be working. Things were relatively safer out there than within the confines of the town, so as long as Penelope remained within the field nearby, Cynthia could easily react if something happened, but could continue to work without needing to be constantly watching her charge. Since no one else was in the area (Cynthia scented the air to make sure) Penelope figured she should practice using her special brand of magic. ¡°Status Open!¡± It had been a little while since she last checked her status. Having never been much of a gamer, the need to check this convenient screen never crossed her mind. However, it seemed to have been very important enough that a former king of Birain forced it into being, so she might as well use it occasionally. [PENELOPE SNOWFLOWER LEVEL 1] [HP: 100 MP: 100 STR: 5 DEF: 5 MAG: 10 SPD: 5 ACQUIRED SKILLS COOKING: LEVEL 5 CLEANING: LEVEL 5 IMAGINATION: LEVEL 10 ARTISTRY: LEVEL 10] Huh. No changes. Considering that traditional leveling up required battle, she supposed it was normal that she hadn¡¯t experienced much growth. Doing just one thing in the middle of a battle she was not directly involved in most likely did not warrant much experience. And she mainly did training and schooling with Minerva and Yule every day, which probably did not contribute much, either. Well, it¡¯s not like I want to go out and fight, I could get hurt! I have no idea what I would even do. It was better to just do safe things and leave the fighting to the actual warriors. She pulled out her new pencil, eager to give it a try. It was a much better quality then her charcoal sticks, so would it affect how her drawings would come to life? The very idea was exciting. Looking around, she set about sketching a single flower nearby, laying down on the ground with a fresh sheet of parchment to copy what she saw. The pencil glided easily on the page and left much less of a mess on her fingers. There was better control, too, with the finer points for initial line work. And if she adjusted her grip, she could use it for more refined shading, compared to her earlier works with charcoal. The more work she put in the happier she felt, thanking Tulilith for letting her come to this world and enjoy her passion. Putting the final touch on the flower portrait, she gazed at her work and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Hang on, that wasn¡¯t how this worked. Maybe she hadn¡¯t been thinking about it hard enough? After all, intent was a part of how her magic worked. Perhaps she had been too engrossed in enjoying herself; she forgot to concentrate on bringing it to life. So, she tried again, turning the paper over to work on the other side, sketching the flowers again, this time focusing on wishing for it to come into being. To manifest. Be here, be pretty, be real¡­ This time she got the result she expected. Next to the original flower stood a copy. At first glance, there was no difference between the two, they looked alike. However, the artist was thorough, comparing the texture and scent of the two, finding the real one much more fragrant and the petals of the one she created more paper-like. It was clear that if someone did not look too close, the flower fulfilled everything it needed to. She had to wonder what Penelope would need to do to make it seem more real. Was it just all in her intentions, in knowing what the real thing felt like? So she tried a third time, now carrying with her the impressions of the real thing. A third flower appeared, next to the other two, appearing as a picture perfect replica. And when Penelope touched the petals and smelled it, it definitely was more like that real thing! This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Hmm¡­I wonder if that¡¯s why Velma¡¯s picture became an impression of her?¡± It was a conundrum that had been bothering her since she could calmly sit and think about it. Remembering the time she spent working on her first commission, she kept praying for the speedy recovery of Matilda and the overall happiness of the Gidget family. She supposed that translated as finding Velma, as that met the criteria of everything she wished for without actually manifesting the little girl. However, the tiger had been a different story. That definitely physically came into being. It had become real enough as to bite and attack the kidnappers, and going as far as to rescue Velma was dropping into the ocean. That meant she could make living beings (a rather scary thought, honestly) to an extent; she promised herself not to abuse that kind of power and to be careful. It was good to know she could create things on the fly that were useful. ¡°I wonder if I could literally quickdraw?¡± It was an interesting thought and Penelope challenged herself to try, feeling fired up. Of course, not understanding the meaning of the word ¡®chill¡¯, she might have gone a little overboard. To prove the limits of her abilities again, she tried to see how many items she could make in succession. Random small objects that didn¡¯t need to be explained what they were, like bowls and balls. Concentrating hard on her work, Penelope ignored the veritable pile of items that popped into existence near her. By the time Cynthia came out of the forest with her bushels of herbs and a few caught pieces of game, there was a hill of bowls, balls, forks and a single malformed plushie that might have resembled some kind of haunted looking rabbit plushie. They popped out of existence, poofing, almost as fast as they came into existence, so neither had to worry about taking any of it with them or disposing of them, but the sheer amount exhausted Penelope to make in order to keep up with the disappearing items. Getting into the groove of the speed of her creations, she hadn¡¯t stopped to inspect everything she made, simply interested in the amount of items she could do in one sitting (it was a lot). Due to how much she exhausted herself she needed to be carried back into town. Penelope was scolded for doing this and told that she needed to be more responsible with her magic use in the future. She promised to do so, despite them both knowing she was most likely going to take things out of hand again next time as well.
¡°A festival?¡± ¡°Yes, Ceralde will be holding a spring festival in a week,¡± Minerva explained. It was another day at the shop. Time had passed since the incident where several missing children were rescued from a bunch of traffickers. Penelope was sweeping the floor when it was mentioned to her out of the blue. Minerva nodded, smiling wide. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s been a long standing tradition in town. Celebrate new life, new beginnings and love.¡± So, was it some kind of Valentine¡¯s Day celebration? ¡°Oh? Is it a holiday for lovers?¡± The mage waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Oh, goodness, no. Many choose this time of year to propose or profess their love. So, if you see people linking pinkies, that¡¯s why.¡± That last part was delivered with a playful wink, to which Penelope blushed at, recalling the incident the mage was referring to. She really wasn¡¯t going to let Penelope live that one down, huh? ¡°Come on, Minerva, do you have to bring that up?¡± Penelope whined softly. ¡°But, how can I ever forget the day someone actually proposed to my cute little nephew? I may never get to see it ever again in my lifetime, you know.¡± She is having way too much fun with this, Penelope thought, moving to another room to get away from the mage who was now cackling. Minerva used to be so sweet, but now she had also gotten into the habit of teasing her as much as she teased Yule. At least they never argued, Penelope didn¡¯t think she could handle that. She¡¯ll let those two have the monopoly on bickering. Still, a spring festival¡­when was the last festival she had attended? With how busy she had been while living together with everyone, Penelope hadn¡¯t allied herself to get too deep into her head and remembering the old days as Hokusai Kasumi. If she delved deeply into her memories, she would recall the last festival she attended was for a sports day at her final year of elementary school. Her father had been unable to attend, but her mother had been there with a video camera, so she could record the day to show her father. That year she had won first place in the foot race, her triumph by tripping into the finish line and falling onto her face was the talk of the school for weeks. It was actually a funny memory. After her sister was born, she had to give up going to club activities and things like school festivals. There just wasn¡¯t enough time to be able to contribute to the family, keeping up her studies and participating in events. So it might actually be quite nice to go to one. However, with the restrictions on children being outside alone, that might be difficult. ¡°I wonder if Yule will go with me,¡± she thought aloud as she got to work sweeping up the kitchen. She didn¡¯t have to worry about money at the moment, since the money she received from her commission had barely been touched. Other than buying a few pencils and refills for her fountain pen from Ulfric¡¯s shop, she still had a lot of money. Of course, used to living extremely frugally, Penelope hoped to keep some savings for a rainy day and only keeping a small allowance in case she wanted a treat. She had tried giving some to Minerva to pay for her keep, but the mage gave her the most offended look and absolutely refused it. ¡°Children shouldn¡¯t have to pay rent,¡± was what the older woman had said with a note of finality. So she had a good amount she could use to treat herself, after putting the rest away for savings. Although, she felt like she was carrying a lot. Currently the coins were sitting safely in her shared room with Yule, but when she went out for any reason, she brought it with her. As someone not used to more than 100 yen in her pocket at any given time, having enough to buy wagyu steak several times over was still hard for her to grasp. Sometimes she brought them out to touch them to reaffirm they were real. Are there banks here? They have a system of currency, so there should be something like a bank, right? With a question in mind, Penelope went back to Minerva to ask it. ¡°A bank? Well, yes, there is one! They are quite convenient as most of my transactions in the shop tend to be high, so I¡¯d rather avoid working with actual coins.¡± That was not the answer the girl had been expecting. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes, Penelope ¨C oh, here, stay with me and you can see for yourself.¡± At that moment a customer came up to the pair, holding quite a few vials and bottles. ¡°Hello m¡¯am, I¡¯d like to buy these potions,¡± the customer stated. Minerva did a quick calculation and adjustment to inventory in a book before pulling out a strange metal card. ¡°That will be 350 Draks for the lot,¡± the mage said, the answer making Penelope mentally spiral at how high it cost. The customer agreed to the price, pulling out their own metal card and touching it to Minerva¡¯s. A small light flashed on both cards, first the customer¡¯s then Minerva¡¯s and that seemed to signal that the transaction worked. ¡°Penelope, could you bag the customer¡¯s purchase, please?¡± ¡°Oh, sure!¡± It was a slightly perplexing interaction, to be sure. But if Penelope had to compare it to something, it resembled the tap technology from Earth. It had not yet become particularly popular in Japan when Kasumi passed away, but she had seen a few stores that allowed such convenient technology. It made her wonder how it worked exactly in Iralon¨¦. Minerva showed Penelope her card, which was made of metal that had etchings on one side and a magic circle on the other. The etchings turned out to be Minerva¡¯s full name, Penelope simply hadn¡¯t recognized the characters right away. ¡°The magic circle on the back is a spell that allows the transfer of wealth within banks. You can barely see them, but each symbol here is a unique combination for each account holder, so no two people would have the same magic circle on the back of their cards. They also only activate if touched by the authorized user, to avoid fraud.¡± ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s how it works.¡± ¡°Yes, it¡¯s much safer than walking around with a lot of gold, you know? Especially if you plan on making big purchases.¡± ¡°That makes sense.¡± Finishing up with her notes in her accounting, Minerva closed the book. ¡°As I recall, you received some money and should be expecting more soon.¡± ¡°Maybe? Cynthia says there was a lot of paperwork the guild needs to look through.¡± ¡°Well, before then, how about we open up your own bank account?¡± ¡°Oh, can I?¡± Penelope would love that, if she could. It would be better than accumulating money and not being able to keep it safe from thieves. The mage nodded, beginning to put things away. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. You just need a guarantor, since you¡¯re a bit young to open one on your own. Luckily for you, you have me!¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯d be really grateful, if you could do that for me,¡± Penelope chirped, respect shining in her eyes. Minerva chuckled. ¡°In all honesty, it will be good to set you up for your future.¡± That made the girl pause a moment, head tilting. ¡°My future?¡± ¡°Oh, yes. We can never know what may come, so it never hurts to prepare for every eventuality,¡± Minerva offered sagely. The choice of words put off Penelope a bit, because that implied something would make her leave in the first place. What did the older woman mean? Was this a subtle hint that she was overstaying her welcome? That they secretly thought she should have moved on already? Looking back on how long she had stayed, it was amazing she hadn¡¯t realized her faux pas sooner. Of course she needed to leave! Teaching her how to read, preparing a brand new bank account¡­she was being quietly kicked out! Oh, no, did I make everyone mad or something? Penelope thought, spiralling. Well, I did sort of come out of the blue. It¡¯s been a couple of weeks and I haven¡¯t paid for anything in the home. Oh, and I wasn¡¯t careful and made everyone worry and chase me around¡­ The list of her perceived slights against her house mates just kept going in this manner, like a scrolling wall of text within her mind¡¯s eye. Why would someone bring something up like preparing for the future unless they were planning on kicking someone out?! Well, not that she actually belonged here. And that thought stung the most. Other than Yule, Minerva and Cynthia, she had no one else in this world. She suddenly felt so lonely. Penelope took a step back and waved things off. ¡°Oh, you know what? I think I forgot to take the laundry back in,¡± Penelope said, mind finding the first task she could latch onto. Their clothes were, in fact, hanging outside in the back to dry right now, so she had a valid excuse to escape. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to bother you right now.¡± ¡°Oh, it wouldn¡¯t be a bother ¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. I''ll finish the chores.¡± Not waiting for Minerva to reply, Penelope ran off to the back of the shop. She missed the utterly perplexed look on the older woman¡¯s face transform into worry. Honestly, Penelope felt very foolish as she rushed away. It had been rude of her to leave so abruptly. Minerva hadn¡¯t followed her, considering the girl¡¯s feelings and giving her space, which made Penelope feel even worse. She really had to make up for it. She made several plans already, to take on all the cleaning, the cooking and various other tasks in order to properly establish herself at the shop. For now, she needed to finish up the current chore she was supposed to do: the laundry! Normally Minerva or Cynthia took down the laundry from the clotheslines while Penelope took care of the folding. This time she resolved to do it all herself. She whipped up a sketch of a stepping stool, using the extra height to remove everything and place them neatly folded into a basket¡­well, that was easier said than done. Even though she could now reach everything, it did not mean she could easily fold everything. One of the first things she grabbed were some of the bedsheets and she had quite the time figuring out how to fold it from the line without it touching the ground. If she were an adult her arms would be long enough to do the job, but she was young now and she felt upset for being so useless. One sheet was done, after a lot of sweating. Penelope found a method to overlap the sheet while on the line, though this meant a lot of shifting around on her stool. Picking it up and moving it left and right. All for a single sheet. This was probably harder than it needed to be, but she¡¯d decided on this. She needed to be useful or she¡¯d wind up crying from the worry she may be kicked out. As Kasumi, there was always the threat of being thrown out. Her family truly had a hold on her, keeping her tightly on a leash so she would never even consider leaving. Guilted into feeling responsible if she did nothing to help, even when she was tired. And she was often told that no one else could possibly love her. ¡°We are your family,¡± Kasumi¡¯s father shouted, when she mentioned moving out to attend university. The man tossed an empty bottle at her, which thankfully missed, shattering on impact with the wall near Kasumi¡¯s head. The older man began hollering, calling for the rest of the family. ¡°Hey, everyone! Come here!¡± he bellowed as Kasumi cowered, keeping still and saying nothing while she trembled. When the rest of the family came to see what the commotion was, the man continued on his angry tirade. ¡°This ungrateful brat says she wants to leave her beloved family behind.¡± ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not ungrateful¡­I just think I should continue school¡­¡± Kasumi had tried to argue, only to have something else thrown at her. It missed again, but how long could her luck last? The next one might very well hit her. And yet, she could not move. Her mind rationalized that if she moved, it¡¯d be over. She just needed to stay still and it¡¯ll be over soon. Her father mocked her, repeating her words in a dumb way before scoffing. ¡°All I hear is that you don¡¯t love us and want to leave, you selfish child! Who will look after this family if you leave?¡± It had hurt her so much whenever they accused her of not loving them. It felt like a punch to the gut every time. A hit so hard that she was left breathless and doubled over in pain, though nothing had touched her (yet). All she could do was stand and cry, scared of being left without support, without her family. Because even though it hurt to be there, it hurt more to be told she didn¡¯t care¡­ But she did care. Penelope genuinely liked the people she levied with and even though it had barely been a month, she wanted to stay. Big fat tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she did not make a sound as she kept trying her best to finish up with the laundry, despite the difficulty. Her sleeve rubbed vigorously against her eyes as she couldn¡¯t let everyone see how distressed she was. It took a moment to calm herself down, though the pain in her chest merely continued to pang endlessly from the unfounded fear of being thrown away. She screwed on her best smile and told herself to act normal as she picked up the heavy basket and headed inside. Keep smiling, keep smiling, keep smiling¡­ CHAPTER 12 – The Artist is Invited to the Festival Yule did not like what he was seeing. Penelope had taken to acting more mousy in the last few days. One day he had come back from his activities and saw the younger girl cleaning up a storm. Whenever she finished one thing, she moved onto another task that no one had mentioned to her, as if she were possessed by something. Restocking shelves with potions for sale, sweeping up the floor after customers would track in dirt and debris, arranging the misplaced items, taking inventory¨C It was beyond conscionable for a child to be doing something like product inventory, how would such a thought even occur to her to do? She even took notes. Minerva had been delighted by the job well done, but also confused and concerned. ¡°Whenever I tried to tell her she didn¡¯t need to, she just said sorry and ran off to do something else¡­¡± ¡°Did you say something to her?¡± Yule asked of his aunt, suspicion in his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t think I did?¡± Minerva was actually quite worried about the abrupt change. Penelope had always been a little timid, but was generally so cheery. Just what triggered her pulling away? ¡°The last thing I remember was talking to her about banks, since the topic interested her.¡± ¡°Banks? Really?¡± Yule really didn¡¯t understand why such a thing would cause someone to turn on a dime. And it wasn¡¯t just during the day. The two children at the shop normally shared their room and bed together. However, he¡¯d caught her using her magic to create a new, temporary bed ub the hallway, citing that he deserved his own room in his aunt¡¯s house. If he hadn¡¯t been so worried, he would have been furious, demanding what was wrong. It was only years of decorum lessons being drilled into his head that kept him from shouting at her in the middle of the night. Plus, he felt like yelling would have made it worse. More than once he¡¯d witnessed Penelope flinching when voices got too loud or people heated. A few times she would hide behind a pile of items or even behind him when an unhappy customer entered the shop and made trouble. Honestly, these interactions were par for the course, but she seemed extra sensitive to it now. ¡°Is there¡­something I could do?¡± Yule asked himself aloud. Minerva heard him, though. ¡°Well, she also seemed interested in the Spring Festival¡­and it has been a few days since she went outside.¡± The sudden change of mannerisms meant she absolutely refused to leave the shop. If that was what Penelope wanted, it would be fine, but this forced self isolation was so unhealthy. Even though the restrictions on children hadn¡¯t lifted yet, it would be good if she went out. ¡°What do you normally do at the Spring Festival?¡± Yule asked. ¡°Oh, I suppose the capital wouldn¡¯t have a celebration like this,¡± Minerva mused. But then her lips spread into a wide grin as she got herself an idea. ¡°There are a few things to be done at the Spring Festival, but you will need to prepare yourself first, my dear nephew. Fufufufufufu¡­¡± ¡°Do I really have to do this?¡± ¡°It will matter more because you made it.¡± ¡°But it looks really lame and bad.¡± ¡°Then work a little harder.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the worst.¡± Yule had been sent out with Cynthia to the fields just outside of town, where the most flowers bloomed. As it was spring, the flowers that carpeted the field were much more bountiful, coming in a rainbow of hues. It was a lovely sight; downright beautiful. He hated being there, sat amongst all these cheerful little flowers, attempting to make a chain out of them the day before the festival. His fingers, unused to doing things like this, were unable to twist and tuck the stamps as was needed to keep the flowers holding stably together. His attempts since he first arrived there that morning were felt by the flowers around him, clearing a meter¡¯s radius all around him with several failures to show for his efforts. Who knew something so simple could be so hard? ¡°If you keep glaring at the flowers like that, they¡¯ll wilt,¡± he could hear a mental image of Minerva say, in his head. And yet, he glared harder and he hyper focused at the links between his fingers. One flower, two flowers, three flowers¡­ Of course, he felt a little embarrassed about giving Penelope something like a flower wreath he made himself. Even after four solid hours of working on them, his most decent one still looked pretty sloppy. So he sought out a gift for her that wasn¡¯t made by his own two hands. Heading back to the shop with Cynthia, they walked through the crowded market street, voices crying out left and right about their wares for sale. He ignored the words of delicious fruits and tantalizing pastries, keeping his ears peeled for someone talking about anything, but food. All around the travelling pair, merchants and others were decorating the town in petals and ribbons, a sight he wished to show Penelope. Soon enough. She missed out on people building up the festival, but now she could be surprised when she could see the whole thing fully transformed. A couple was nearby, looking over a stall together. The man was looking fondly at his female companion as she pointed out to something on a table. He wasted no time in paying for it. The item was some kind of hair ribbon and the man helped the girl put it in her hair, lovingly tying it off for her. The girl, absolutely ecstatic, twirled to show it off for him. Like that, he thought. He wanted to see Penelope act like that. This gave him an idea for the day he intended to spend with the girl. Instead of picking something out himself right here and now, he could treat her to something she would truly like. He had some spending money thanks to Minerva, so that could work out. Feeling good about how the ideas rolling in his mind, he hurried home with Cynthia. Yule had been preparing for a few days for this moment. The day of the festival had arrived and he woke up again without Penelope sharing the room with him. He didn¡¯t catch her outside the room either. The girl must have adapted herself so she could get a head start on her daily chores before anyone could question her¡­well, not today. Yule quickly got dressed and grabbed a bag. Part of his preparations involved figuring out Penelope¡¯s routine without her knowing, which was rather hard. Girl acted like she had eyes on the back of her head. Though very talented at hiding himself, if he stared at her directly for too long, she would turn around and stare at his general direction, quizzical for a few moments before returning to her work. Penelope¡¯s first thing in the morning schedule was to wake up early and prepare breakfast. The only person who could possibly catch her in this moment was usually Cynthia, as she needed a head start to get to work. This information was given to him by her, as Yule was a notorious oversleeper and overall not a morning person, so he was glad to have a point of reference. Next on her itinerary was to clean the house and then the shop. It was all in one building, but she would always meticulously clean everything she was allowed to touch in the living quarters before moving to the shop, just before the first appearance of a customer. And then during the day she would work tirelessly on restocking or processing potion ingredients, which she had become surprisingly efficient at. The shelves rarely ever saw a moment of being empty, so happy customers browsing usually found what they wanted immediately, unless the stock in the storeroom was also depleted, which was also rare. Yule had no idea how she kept up to date with it all, but it was actually kind of impressive how reliable she was. Just how old was she again? Most adults don¡¯t work this hard. And then the afternoon was lessons with Minerva, where she sat very tensely, taking notes of everything she could. Penelope made it a point to perform well on the first try and if she didn¡¯t, looked absolutely pained that she hadn¡¯t. Again, displaying a worrying amount of distress. This time of day was one where he was certain to meet her no matter what. However, he planned to divert her completely from her routine. Today, he was going to make this sad weird girl smile! Yule used Unnatural Magic to cloak his presence with a simple incantation. It was not a strong spell; all it did was to reflect light away from him in a way as to make him semi invisible. Only someone truly too preoccupied would not notice the slight distortion where he walked. Thankfully for his plans, Penelope was just that as she was in the middle of a cleaning frenzy at the shop before opening hours. She did not see him, nor hear the subtle creaking of the store¡¯s floorboards as he approached her carefully. If she saw you coming, she spooked herself and would run off. He couldn¡¯t let that happen. So for this all to work, he had to stalk up on her carefully. It was pretty creepy all things considered, but this was the only way for the boy to actually hold her attention longer than for a few moments. This was an important intervention that would affect her happiness. And it was important to him that she was happy. Though he had no real reason for why he felt that way, but what decent person wouldn¡¯t want to cheer a friend up? Penelope was taking a rare moment to breathe. She practically wilted as she held onto the broom she was using to do the sweeping. Just letting out a long sigh as she gathered herself to continue her task. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. In that moment, he got beside her and came out of hiding, to come out and grasp her smaller hand. He heard her yelp in surprise, but kept a hold of her. There was a tug as she predictably tried to get away, making an excuse of needing to do something, but he kept her there. ¡°Not today,¡± he told her firmly. Penelope looked absolutely shocked and sad. ¡°Oh, but I really should¡­¡± ¡°No¡­today we are going outside together,¡± he told her, his free hand rummaging through his bag and presenting his wreath. There was a look of surprise when she shyly took the wreath, just blankly blinking. Not worrying whether she hated it or not, Yule pushed forward with the next part of the plan. ¡°Will you go to the festival with me?¡±
The days had passed for Penelope in a panicked blurr. The mornings started off with making breakfast for everyone, so that when they got up they would have something fresh to enjoy. The day was best attacked with a good meal. While it was difficult because the stove was a bit high for her to use, nothing beat her trusty stepping stool! Using her good pen and spending a good hour dreaming and thinking and drawing a good, decent stool, her magic created her a study and long lasting tool that she could use to do things. At long last, no need to worry about things in tall places. The rest of the day went with cleaning and restocking. She got herself into an efficient rhythm wherein she got things done exact at the same time every day, right on the dot. And because she was constantly tidying things, she could keep a better eye on when things became empty, taking note of things in her notes. Honestly, after working through her emotions for a few days, she felt much happier. She worked hard and did her best to contribute, so she honestly didn¡¯t know why she had let herself spiral so badly. Ah, she had such bad habits! Penelope could laugh about it now, but it really had been a scary out of nowhere thought. Was this what people called intrusive thoughts? How frightening. Having everything mastered in keeping the home regulated, Penelope threw herself intensely into working, the feeling of a job well done filling her up. There was always the niggling doubt, but if she kept busy she didn¡¯t have to think about it. Like how people viewed her sudden shift in character. It was clear to her what was going on when it came along midway through the week, something she hadn¡¯t experienced for years as Kasumi since a young age. That¡¯s right, her cycle had come for her at the tender age of ten (in this world). That explains how scared and weepy I got. I really need to get it together. It was something to try and figure out how to deal with it on her own. As her scouring through the books didn¡¯t give her any ideas of how to deal with the natural advancement of her body. Everything was set back properly into place every time she pulled something out, but her face must have been rather serious, since people kept clear of her. She¡¯d used scraps of old, but clean cloth until she found a better solution. There really hadn¡¯t been, but maybe she would need to bite the bullet. For the moment, she needed to make some concessions. No more sleeping in the same bed as Yule for a while. Goodness only knew how he would react if he woke up one day seeing blood all over the bed. Penelope had no idea if there was anything like sex education in this world, or if people were archaic about it. She hoped not. There had been a silent prayer that her first period would be resolved easily. For the while, she would just have to endure. She made plans. Like a temporary bed that would disappear come morning. No one could find traces of stains if the bed just disappeared. And if her clothes got dirty, well, she was already taking care of the laundry all herself now with authoritarian control. Again, she did not want anyone to see something she found embarrassing for herself. Maybe this whole thing was being blown out of proportion, but she was on her own until she could ask outside of her cycle when she wasn¡¯t cranky, cramping and making a mess she didn¡¯t know how to control. Avoiding everyone was also imperative, especially Cynthia. She could probably smell the blood easily. Yes, best not to get too close. And since she was kind of winging how she took care of her cycle by using stuffed cotton, there was the worry she might smell bad so she also ran off when the others got close. Mentally the girl apologized to them, she would explain later¡­ But, oh boy, it was rough. Penelope realized that, as Kasumi, she rarely ever experienced a period. And when she did it had been so irregular she barely got the full experience. Being exhausted, stressed and malnourished all the time caused her body to not have her cycle regularly nor truly feel it. She had been 14 when she got it the first time and 25 when she last got it. After that it was a dry spell and she never complained, because she did not plan on children, so what was the point of worrying about that kind of thing. And now here she was, trying to get through her days without wanting to cry (and failing). Penelope was pretty sure the others spotted her looking ready to burst into tears many times. Was this the price of a perfectly healthy body? What a terrible blessing, she thought. And all during the time the festival would be preparing, too. There was the vague thought that she might be able to go, that maybe her cycle would be finished by then. However, she learned the worst days were right after the beginning. Her sides hurt and she was both hungry and not hungry at all (she didn¡¯t know what she wanted to eat), though she had no trouble making food for the others. Her appetite just wasn¡¯t what it should be. She looked forward to when she felt more normal. In the midst of sweeping, Penelope sagged while holding her broom. Everything hurt. How was it that she could feel like an old lady while feeling so young. And people were supposed to live like this for years on end? Yikes. This was going to definitely take some planning and getting used to. Hopefully Minerva wouldn¡¯t mind helping her out after they talked. She¡¯d been putting off the conversation for a while, too. Confrontation was just not something she was good at, even if the reason would be pretty much benign. Yule was probably lonely, too. Poor kid. He must be so confused about why she was distancing herself. Up until her cycle began, the two of them had always been together, at his insistence, despite how much she said she didn¡¯t need to sleep on a bed. She had to make it up to him, too. Thinking on ways to make it up to the older boy, the one in her thoughts suddenly appeared. His hand around her wrist and him, emerging from nothingness beside her with a serious expression. Penelope was so startled she let out an ungainly noise, involuntarily trying to move away in shock. How in the world had he done that? What kind of magic was that?! And why did he look so upset? Oh, man, she was not ready for this. Not yet, not yet, give her some time Yule, her heart wasn¡¯t ready! ¡°Uh, Yule, I kind of really need to finish cleaning before the shop opens up¨C¡± ¡°Not today,¡± he said sharply. Penelope gulped nervously. Wow,he sounded so serious! Her brows pinched as she tried to figure out something that could convince him to let her be. ¡°Oh, but I really should¡­¡± Again, he cut her off. ¡°No¡­today we are going outside together.¡± Eh? Her brain needed a quick reset. Had she heard him right? Honestly, Penelope felt like she needed to go see a doctor for her ears, she often heard amazingly crazy things at times. A wreath of flowers was held up to her face and she numbly took it, trying to process what was happening. Inspecting the item, she noticed that some stems stuck out at crooked, odd angles. Some of the flowers he used were missing petals in places, as it was clear he had been treating them a bit roughly. However, everything held together to make a decent wreath. But more amazingly than anything else, it was meant for her. A present? How sweet! ¡°Will you go to the festival with me?¡± he asked her out of the blue. Again, her brain needed an extra second to reboot so she could find her answer. ¡°Me? With you?¡± Her voice was incredulous. Not in a mean way, just in a way that said she didn¡¯t quite understand what he meant. As if decided he would not be repeating himself, he turned his question into a statement. ¡°You¡¯re going to the festival with me.¡± His tone brokered no argument. However, she was not offended, she just smiled and laughed. ¡°Oh, good. I thought you were going to hate me,¡± she breathed out. It was not much, but a little tension she didn¡¯t know she had left her body. The smile she wore was very mellow. ¡°I avoided you this whole time, so I thought you might end up disliking me. I¡¯m glad.¡± There was an awkward shuffle from the boy as he listened to her speak, turning his face away a moment in embarrassment. Penelope could see the tips of his ears become a little pink. ¡°Yes,¡± she replied. ¡°I would like to go. I¡¯m happy to go, but oh¡­¡± There was still that little ¡®problem¡¯ she had. Would it be all right? Would she last out there? Were there emergency provisions she could do in case of something going wrong? Her magic could probably solve the issue, but she did not want to have to use it outside where someone could spot her. And really, aside from necessities, she really shouldn¡¯t use her ability to create for just any old thing that popped into her mind. Oh, well, how bad could it be? She mused to herself. ¡°We should tell Minerva and Cynthia where we¡¯re going today,¡± she suggested. Best to let the adults know they would be together in town, in case of emergencies. Yule agreed to this, face blooming into a satisfied smile. Goodness, but he had a handsome face for how young he still was. It was a shame he didn¡¯t smile more. Kid could probably get all the market ladies to do anything he wanted¡­ After alerting the adults about their plans for the day, the two of them headed out into town. Ceralde was normally an active and hustling town, due to the nature of being a port for the kingdom that regularly received both foreign visitors and cargo deliveries. However, there was a different kind of liveliness that day when they stepped outside. Penelope¡¯s eyes widened and she couldn¡¯t help, but to keep turning her head to see everything. The streets were covered in petals and confetti, strewn about by local and visiting merrymakers alike. Flowers were on every street corner, stall or the front of every door. A tradition in Ceralde was to place flowers at the door to invite a warm and pleasant rest of the year. Friends, family and loved ones also presented each other with flowers to wish them well, though Penelope did witness more than a few people present bouquets and expertly weaved wreaths as if they were engagement rings, on bended knee. The obvious romantic air made her giggle giddily at the wholesomeness. Penelope wore her own wrath like a crown, though it was hidden by the hood over her head. She still needed to travel around covered up, apparently. She didn¡¯t mind, but it did feel a little extra stuffy with so many people milling through the streets. It also didn¡¯t help that space was limited due to the extra stalls, too, from travelling merchants who visits for the festival, hoping to make their money and locals who opened up their own specialty stalls. Mingling with the scent of flowers was of festival foods being cooked constantly on open flames. Penelope recognized something close to yakitori, her mouth watering when they passed a stall where a cook was fanning a grill with skewers full of glazed meat. She was definitely going to get one of those before the day was over. There was a square relegated to performers and live music beckoned passerbys to come watch a show or join in a circle of dancers around a pole. The way some young girls grabbed onto a loose ribbon or passing to another who wished to join before circling the pole seemed interesting, but she had no idea how it worked. Were there steps she had to be taught? It was so eye-catching the way the ribbons flowed and flew in the air, while the girls danced together. The urge to try was there, but her own uncertainty kept her from mentioning it out loud. Their plan was to look around the town before deciding on any activities they wanted to do. The festival would last for days, but today would be the day she got to do things with Yule alone. His hand was always holding hers as they walked around, careful to avoid others. Since he led the way, he would look behind him to constantly check up on how she was doing and asking if she needed him to slow down. He was so attentive and careful, it was almost like she was being guided around by a prince in a fairy story. ¡°Is there anywhere you want to go?¡± he asked, voice a bit louder as the din of the crowd was high. ¡°I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s so much!¡± Her stomach grumbled for her, her appetite suddenly returning to her now that she was in such a cheery mood. He half-sighed, half laughed. ¡°All right, let¡¯s get you something to eat.¡± Embarrassed, she nodded and followed him to the first stop on their festival day together. CHAPTER 13 – The Artist Enjoys the Festival After filling their bellies with good food, they went around the expanded market area, looking over the new stalls that popped up for the festival. There were so many new things she hadn''t seen in Ceralde before. Normally the market street was used to sell everyday goods and anything that was a specialty item had to be found within a specific store. For instance, if one needed stationary, one merely needed to visit the Gidget Stationary Store that Ulfric ran with his family. Yule followed her diligently, looking over everything with her with a critical eye. Penelope had to wonder if he was looking for something specific. What did boys his age like? She had a bit of money, so she could easily grab him something as a gift to thank him for taking her out. Penelope had to pay attention to what he was interested in and swoop in for a gift! However, that was easier said than done, as he kept gravitating towards accessory stalls. Ones filled with ribbons and bows and even jeweled ones whose prices made her head spin. It was curious as to why he wanted to look at them, but if that was his preference, she wasn¡¯t one to judge. If he liked it, he liked it. However, even though he zoomed in on such stalls, he never remained long nor seemed to find any particular piece interesting. And as Penelope didn¡¯t have much interest in things herself, she didn¡¯t stick around those tables much herself. Penelope¡¯s eyes scanned everything around until she noticed several pots filled with tapered sticks, which turned out to be brushes and pens! Gasping in excitement, she dragged Yule over to take a look with her, not realizing her strength as she near dragged him with her. On the same table were bound books with simple covers, tied off with a thin twine. The paper within was thin and delicate, which reminded her of a little of rice paper. ¡°Ah, you have a good eye, miss. Are you interested in calligraphy? We have excellent brushes and ink to go with these books,¡± the merchant stated, making his sales pitch. Penelope looked up at the merchant and nodded. ¡°They do look interesting! I prefer doing art than drawing, though, hahaha.¡± ¡°I see, an artist, hm? The brushes are good for that, too,¡± the man said, not one to lose a possible customer for anything. ¡°Is it only ink brushes you have?¡± Penelope asked, looking around more. There were ink pots, which were the norm in Birain, however, there were also sticks, which she barely recognized. ¡°Oh, you have sticks, too. Those work best with these kind of brushes.¡± The merchant chuckled. ¡°Wow, you really do know your stuff. I also have the stones that pair with them in a set, if you would prefer the sticks over a pot.¡± ¡°How much for a set?¡± Yule asked, finally speaking up. The merchant looked over at the boy and they seemed to size each other up silently. After a moment, the man gave his price for the set, which was reasonable, but still expensive. Money exchanged hands, with nonplussed gratitude said on both sides. ¡°Thank you for the items.¡± ¡°Thank you for your business.¡± If things got any drier, they might be standing in a desert. Turning to face Penelope, Yule presented the ink set to her. ¡°This is for you.¡± Penelope immediately became flustered, colour rising in her cheeks as she tried to wave off the gift. ¡°What? No, I couldn¡¯t possibly accept it,¡± she said. As far as gifts went, this was too much honestly. ¡°You already gave me flowers, you didn¡¯t have to get me more.¡± Not wanting to argue, he placed the box in her hands, knowing it would be easier for them both once she touched it. It worked. The moment she felt the lacquered wood of the sleek brush, could caress the ink stone and trace the intricate pattern of what had to be a peach blossom on the stick, she was enamored with it. Holding the set close to herself, she fought hard not to cry, putting on her biggest, sincerest smile she could. ¡°Yule¡­thank you so much!¡± He seemed satisfied with her gratitude as he smiled softly at her enthusiasm. His fingers found hers again and he led them both off to another part of the festival. Penelope¡¯s eyes did not leave the ink set she received, taking in every single detail of her present, while he couldn¡¯t help not being able to take his eyes off of her happy expression. Penelope was excited to have received this. She¡¯d never gotten to use an ink brush before, so she wondered what it would be like. Will it be smooth? Will the ink splash in a controlled or wild way? And what would she draw using her new set? Hey, wait. I was supposed to be the one buying him something ¨C AAAAGH! Whoops. She had meant to get Yule something, yet he wound up buying her a present first. Maybe she could pay for the next thing they did together, as a treat (he also paid for their food earlier, she realized). She¡¯d just been going with the flow and enjoying herself, she totally forgot her goal. I need to make this a good day for him, too. Now, what could they do? She did see some game stalls when she and Yule walked around the area to pick out what they could do. There was an archery game where one could win prizes. The shooting line hadn¡¯t seemed too far from the targets that a child could do it, she thought. And archery couldn¡¯t be that hard, right? Right? Penelope suggested they go take part in a few games. There were a variety to choose from, ranging from a classic ring toss to something that resembled bowling to Penelope. However, the one that had her attention was the archery game, where one simply needed to hit a spot on the target in order to win a corresponding prize. The bows were small, obviously made with children in mind. ¡°Is there a prize that looks good?¡± Penelope asked Yule, who also eyed the game with some interest. The boy turned his gaze over to the wooden display which held a number of items. The top tier prize was a plush doll, made of soft blue fabric with a white ribbon tied around its neck. To Penelope it resembled a rabbit and she found it absolutely adorable. That was the top prize, so she would have to hit the bull¡¯s eye on the target once to get it. Penelope paid the man running the stall and was taught how to use the bow and arrows. The game gave her three tries per payment. He even showed her how easy it was to hit the target from where they were standing. Once she was shown how, the girl gave it her best try. All three failed miserably. Not a single arrow hit the target. They all landed a foot or so short of hitting anything. It was honestly embarrassing. Laughing her failure off nervously, she handed over another copper coin to play. ¡°That was just practice!¡± she rationalized. ¡°Now is the real deal!¡± The next three fell flat as badly as the others. Clearly, she was not meant to use a bow and arrow, but the loss did not deter her from her goal. Just one. She only needed one bull¡¯s eyes. Another coin was passed over. This time she took her time to shoot. Her mistake was her haste, she told herself. So if she took her time, it would change the shots! The first one missed, though the arrow landed much closer than last time. The second one actually hit the target and she cheered, because she finally touched it. However, it was still out of bounds as the arrowhead did not touch any of the coloured circles. Penelope felt good about her next shot and was about to shoot again, when she felt Yule¡¯s hand on her shoulder. ¡°Can I try?¡± he asked. Penelope blinked up at him, thinking about it. She wanted to keep going, but figured she could try again later. If Yule wanted to play, she should let him. She was an adult and shouldn¡¯t hog a game all to herself (conveniently forgetting she was actually ten years old). The girl handed over the bow and the last arrow, standing aside to watch as Yule took a deep breath and squared off his shoulders. He shifted himself so he stood sideways, feet spread apart just a few feet. One foot had its toe pointed in the direction of the target. He notched the bow and pulled back as much as he could, not quite straining, but he was drawing it harder than Penelope ever did. And after a moment or so, he let his arrow fly. The arrow sailed far, embedding itself in the target. Not dead center, but anyone watching could clearly see he hit the center circle. The stall owner ran a bell, declaring him a big winner. It was kind of unreasonably loud and attention grabbing, but Penelope supposed this was how he drew other people to try and play. The rabbit plush was picked up from its spot and handed over to Yule, who returned the bow with his thanks. The boy came over and presented the doll to Penelope, surprising her again for the third time that day. ¡°For me, again?¡± ¡°This was the one you wanted, right?¡± ¡°Well, yes, but I wanted to try and get it for you¡­¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± The plush was pushed into her hands. The boy had a soft blush on his cheeks, however he seemed pleased. Not understanding why she felt embarrassed, Penelope buried her face into the soft side of the plush doll. They moved on to other games to play. Mainly failing at them, but enjoying their time trying them out. Despite the losses, she found them more fun to experience than the wins. She could laugh instead of fearing of not performing well; it was a liberating feeling. Penelope did find she had a knack for the ring toss, being able to throw them more easily than shooting a bow. ¡°Say, how come you¡¯re so good at it?¡± she asked curiously. They were in between games and had circled back to the archery game again. Watching others attempt the bull¡¯s eyes was actually entertaining, rather than playing it herself. ¡°I used to practice it a lot,¡± Yule explained. ¡°My father and I used to practice a lot together when I was smaller. He stopped when I was ten, but I never stopped practicing. It¡¯s just something I liked to do.¡± ¡°Well, it shows. You¡¯re very good. Good job, Yule.¡± Though he was taller, she reached up and patted his head as she praised him. He didn¡¯t say anything in return, just quietly watched her. ¡°I feel like we¡¯ve been walking all day long. My feet hurt,¡± Penelope complained. It was well past midday and many people were taking seats and just enjoying a meal. Amazingly, time hadn¡¯t moved that quickly since they started their day at the festival. It was maybe around 2 PM and the day was still young, though the girl did already feel tired. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Let¡¯s take a break, then,¡± Yule replied. ¡°Yes, please!¡± The boy took them over to a set of tables and benches near a stall making hot food. The scent of something being cooked tickled Penelope¡¯s appetite and her stomach rumbled. It was definitely time to get something to eat. Order and paying went swiftly, and they were served drinks and food. It was nice to be sitting down to rest and eat in peace. The bustle of the area was a bit overwhelming for her, but if she focused on her food, it didn¡¯t bother her as much. ¡°Miss Penelope! Hello, there!¡± called out a voice from across the street as the pair enjoyed their meal. The source of the shout was Ulfric, who had his family with them. Velma was firmly holding the hands of both of her parents. The child still seemed nervous to be outside, but it was good to see her seeing the world again. Matilda was also looking much better, though the scars of her earlier ill health were still evident on her. The family came over to greet them. ¡°Hello Ulfric, Matilda, Velma. Are you enjoying the festival?¡± Penelope inquired. ¡°Yes, we are. And how have you been enjoying it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s very fun, it¡¯s my first time experiencing one like this ¨C oh, look what I have!¡± Excitedly, Penelope pulled out the ink set Yule had bought her, ready to show it off. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the boy puffing out his chest a little in pride and she had to hold back a laugh at how cute he was being. ¡°Take a look! Yule got me this and I can¡¯t wait to use it.¡± Ulfric got close to take a look at the set, interest clearly in his eyes. ¡°Oh, this is rare. Do you know where you got this from? I¡¯d like to stock a few for the shop.¡± Matilda smacked her husband playfully on the arm. ¡°Ulfric, we don¡¯t have time for that.¡± ¡°Oh, the show won¡¯t go anywhere and we are early,¡± Ulfric said sulkily, clearly wanting to expand the inventory of his business a bit more. No wonder his wife seemed exasperated; when he wasn¡¯t fretting over his family, the man was obsessed with working the busy. ¡°Oh, what show?¡± Yule asked, joining the conversation. ¡°There is a troupe performing a play this afternoon,¡± Matilda responded. ¡°We were hoping to get good seats by going early.¡± Yule nodded, then looked over at Penelope. She immediately understood what he wanted to ask. She nodded back in turn, cementing their next plans. ¡°We¡¯re almost done eating. Just give us a moment and we can show you the stall so you can get to the show on time. We¡¯d like to go see it ourselves,¡± Penelope stated. This way would be beneficial for all of them. Ulfric¡¯s family didn¡¯t need to wander around, wasting time and they could all attend the show without worry of getting bad seats. Matilda and Ulfric seemed to agree this would be a good idea, too. Penelope and Yule finished their meals, before joining them to show the family the ink merchant and then heading to the entertainment square together to get seats for the play.
The Mousai Trope was a group with eight members and were prominent in fame within Iralon¨¦. They travelled through the kingdom bringing with them entertainment in the form of plays which were written, produced and performed by those same eight members. Whether the role was male or female, those eight took on those roles without fear or shame. They were also of the Beastmen race, specifically the subrace full of birds; the Garuda. Their heads and arms were feathery, while the rest of them contained a humanoid appearance. Thanks to their colourful plumage, the actors were very much eye-catching and their ability to manipulate their voices made acting as men or women a non-issue. And there was one other reason why their shows were so fun to watch. Each show, while following a script, was never the same as a previous one. Using audience participation, the flow of the story could very much change, making each performance unique. And for this, you needed to have a good seat, if you hoped to be picked. The further out back you were, the least likely you¡¯d be picked for something. Matilda loved this troupe and had seen a few of their shows before, so she was eager to take part, even in a small way. She admitted she would have been cross with her husband if they had made them late in getting seats. Despite being an hour early, there had already been a group of colourfully dressed people cheering in the crowd, some even shouting the name of some of the performers. Penelope compared this to the Takarazuka fans back in Japan; Kasumi¡¯s mother had been one and bought all sorts of merchandise for them, despite never attending a show live. She had collected so many of the performance DVDs and even dragged Kasumi to a few autograph events just to have someone carry everything she bought at the merchandise tables. Apparently, her mother had wanted to be an actress in the group once upon a time, but never made the cut. Kasumi had been forced into dance classes by her mother when she was five, but thankfully their financial situation didn¡¯t allow her to be stuck in them any longer than a month. Kasumi had not been good at dancing at all and kept getting yelled at whenever she failed to keep up with the other kids in the class. Velma looked uncomfortable sitting between her parents while here, probably from all the noise and the strangers milling around. Her eyes kept darting around, as if expecting to get snatched up again. Feeling bad for her, Penelope offered her plush doll to hold. The other girl was shy about accepting it, but holding and touching the toy seemed to calm her down. At the very least, it kept her distracted. If she wanted to keep it, it was fine, as Penelope was not one to get too attached to things (unless it was her art supplies). Years of learning to give up things she liked was the norm for her when she was Kasumi living with her family. ¡°Remember to give that back to Miss Penelope later,¡± Ulfric said gently to Velma. The girl nodded obediently, as if it was a given she would return the toy. ¡°Did you thank Penelope?¡± urged Matilda. Velma, softly, looked over at Penelope and murmured, ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll give it back later.¡± Quite a shocker and the artist became a bit flustered, being thanked by such a cute young girl for just receiving a doll, even temporarily. ¡°O-oh! N-no problem! It¡¯s just a toy. Hahaha.¡± Moments like this still struck her out of nowhere. Honestly, if they had kept it, she wouldn¡¯t have minded at all. However, she noticed Yule sulking a little, though he hid it pretty well from her. Huh? Why was he moody all of a sudden? How strange. The show started to the cheers of the die hard fans, opening up to a Garuda with bright green and blue feathers that reminded Penelope of a parrot. He wore a simple white shift, tied off at a shoulder and held in his feather hands a lyre. He strummed a few notes, which silenced the excited audience, almost like magic. There was a hushed buzz through the crowd, all eyes on the front. ¡°Welcome esteemed guests! My name is Calliopus, your narrator for today!¡± The Garuda bowed to everyone in attendance, some returning his greeting with a cheer of their own. ¡°Today¡¯s story is a tale of heroism and choices. Of great personal sacrifice! And of a long awaited reunion. Of course, the tale¡¯s end shall all depend on you.¡± The actor gestured towards the audience, causing a small uproar of screaming fans to rise up and wave their arms enthusiastically. Matilda also got up and waved her arms, to try and catch Calliopus¡¯ attention. It was a bit much for Penelope, but she took it in stride as a part of the experience. Calliopus cocked his head to the side as he listened to the cries of willing volunteers. His gaze trailed through the crowd, slowly and deliberately, until they fell on Penelope`s group. She thought that maybe Matilda would be picked and was about to congratulate her when something unexpected happened. ¡°You! Little girl in the hood! Come on up!¡± Penelope froze in her seat. Did they seriously pick her? Looking around her, she saw dozens of eyes staring at her, some glowering with daggers. What in the world ¨C not her fault the guy decided to pick her over them. If looks could kill¡­ The girl shook her head vehemently, trying to ward off any possibility of being in the spotlight. However, it would seem that she had no choice in the matter as she was pulled up towards the stage by a pair of feathery actors. However, there was a bit of a hitch as Yule was not letting her go, their hands still firmly together this whole time. Instead of letting it be, Calliopus laughed on stage. ¡°Oh, so the girl¡¯s Prince Charming wants to go with her? Let¡¯s bring them both up!¡± Hearing this, the two Garuda picked both Yule and Penelope up and brought them backstage, wherein everything moved like a whirlwind. The two were separated from each other and brought into a small dressing area where they would be blocked off from anyone viewing them. Costumes were tossed at them and they were given the rundown of what was expected of them for the play. The story was of the two main characters; a king who went off to war and a queen who was left waiting behind for him. Yule was given the part of the child king, while Penelope was given the part of his queen. Their parts were small, but was part of the show. It was apparently normal for them to drag in amateurs for small scenes before going with the full story with the usual cast of actors. Penelope felt like a deer in the headlights and just did as she was told; on the other side of the divider, she heard Yule resisting his handlers with everything he had, not wanting strangers to help him get ready and just wanting to see Penelope. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± one actor said. ¡°You have to show everyone how much you want to see your queen.¡± ¡°I want to see her for real, you birdbrains! How do I know you¡¯re not doing anything weird to her?!¡± He was loud, but Penelope could appreciate his concern. When she was changed, a little makeup was applied to her face. Just a little blush and a stain, to give her a more made up appearance for the stage. The brush tickled her skin and the stain felt weird, but it was otherwise not too bothersome. Yule continued to make a racket. Penelope was given some coaching, too, as her hair was fixed up. She asked them not to remove her flower wreath, though, as she didn¡¯t wish to lose it. The Garuda were confused, but otherwise respected her wishes. ¡°Now Calliopus will be finishing up the prologue soon,¡± explained a red feathered Garuda, named Clio. ¡°We will signal when it¡¯s your turn to come out. It¡¯s very simple. You just have to look into your friend¡¯s eyes and say that you¡¯ll be waiting for him. You¡¯ll hug and kiss and then you can come backstage again to change back. Easy.¡± The horrified look on Penelope¡¯s face said otherwise. What the Hell do they mean ¡®hug and kiss¡¯. What the Hell is wrong with these birds?! Don¡¯t they know that we¡¯re kids, good freakin¡¯ god!!! Maybe it was because she was in the middle of her first cycle, so there was a possibility she was overthinking things and getting upset over nothing, but she didn¡¯t want to just openly display affection like that in front of everybody. On top of this, Penelope hated being in the spotlight. Some may thrive while standing in front of others, but she much preferred hiding in her own little corner where she could draw. Plus, I¡¯ll be going out without my hood. Will it be all right, or are Cynthia and Minerva being too protective? She¡¯d gotten so used to wearing it outside it became like a second skin. She felt naked without her disguise. With all these unknowns flying around in her mind, she could feel her heart racing in her chest out of sheer anxiousness. I¡¯m going to make a fool out of myself, she mourned internally, as another actor (in deep purple feathers this time) led her to the side steps backstage that would lead her up. She could see a little of what was going on and clearly heard the words spoken on stage. Yule was already on stage, dressed up for his part and looking quite sullen, surrounded by other actors who danced around him as his ¡®generals¡¯. His arms were crossed and he looked very displeased, even a bit ruffled up. Yet, Penelope thought that the crown, though fake, suited him quite a bit. If she hadn¡¯t known better, she thought him a real prince. Despite his expression, he stood there almost regally amid all the colourful Garuda, in his crown and royal costume. She wanted to etch the moment into her memory, so she could put it to paper later. Yule is going to be a heartbreaker when he¡¯s older, the girl thought to herself. A soft tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality. A pair of the Garuda actors were decked out in ladies-in-waiting costumes, ready to escort her. ¡°It¡¯s our turn now. Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Gack!¡± Oh, man, it was do or die time. Closing her eyes, she made herself enter the stage, holding back the urge to get sick. The dusky sunlight was gently as it shone down on her as she emerged from backstage, quite a few people cooing at how cute she was (to which she wanted to petulantly tell them she was not cute at all). Forcing herself to open her eyes (so she wouldn¡¯t accidentally fall off the stage), Penelope came face to face with Yule and his entourage on the other side, waiting for this part of the play to conclude. His young face, originally in a scowl, was set into something more scared. Penelope dreaded what had to come, yet she knew she had to do it. Each step was like a march towards the gallows, nervousness welling up in her stomach and making her feel extra sick. She knew everyone¡¯s eyes were on her as she went over to her friend and that fact alone made her feel even worse. By the time she was directly in front of Yule, Penelope was holding back tears from intense stage fright. ¡°I¡­.I¡­I¡­¡± Her words came out trembling and her eyes watered. She could feel heat in her cheeks and in her throat. Her hands sought him out and she quickly hugged him, trying not to cry. But she failed. ¡°I¡­.I¡¯LL BE¡­I¡¯LL BE WAITING WAAAAAAAAH!!!!¡± she sobbed loudly. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she held onto Yule and sobbed, unable to handle the pressure of everyone watching her onstage, while wearing strange clothes, her feeling practically exposed. Others may like this kind of thing, where they could be part of a show and have their fifteen minutes of fame, but she didn¡¯t. Yule¡¯s hand patted the back of her head, caressing her hair gently, trying to calm her down. The audience made sympathetic noises because it was obvious how uncomfortable Penelope was, as well as murmuring things like ¡® how sweet¡¯ to how Yule was treating the situation with so much patience. They stayed like this for a minute before the other actors moved along with the show. Eventually she was taken away (practically separated dramatically from Yule by her fake ladies in waiting) still teary-eyed and distressed, their scene over. CHAPTER 14 - The Artist’s Second Commission ¡°It¡¯s all, you¡¯re all right¡­¡± soothed one of the actors. ¡°Yes, yes, you¡¯re fine. You did very good,¡± another said. Penelope was too ashamed to face anyone, just choosing to cling to Yule instead so she could hide her face in his shirt. After their scene, Penelope and Yule were brought backstage once more so they could change out of their costumes. However, rather than changing out of them the girl simply latched onto her friend the moment she saw him come in. The two of them were just sat back there as the show continued while Penelope took her time to calm down. The members of the troupe were very understanding about them being there, downright nice even, which made Penelope feel bad about taking up room backstage. ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad, listen! Your emotional actions have changed the course of the play!¡± Penelope perked up at this and tuned in a little to hear what the actors on stage were saying. The actor who played the main character, the king, was standing there, monologuing. ¡°I will soon return to you, my love! I still remember your tears and your sobbing face when I left years ago!¡± the actor declared dramatically, a feathered wing posed over his head. Penelope buried her face more into Yule¡¯s shirt. Gods, she was not living this down. Yule gently patted her back, having heard all of that himself. ¡°Should we get changed and go back?¡± he asked. ¡°Just another minute please.¡± ¡°All right.¡± It was, in fact, a lot longer than that. Not near the end, but nowhere near a minute. In the meantime, the actors moved around the pair, who listened to the performance quietly and calmly. From what Penelope surmised, the main character¡¯s friend called him to arms concerning the abduction of his beloved by an enemy ruler. The king, still young, had to say farewell to his own beloved wife in order to go to war. The war was quite bloody and last years. The rest of the play was his journey home, back to his wife. According to the actors, the play¡¯s ending changed depending on the audience. ¡°The last time we did this play, the king and queen parted ways rather violently. The whole audience cried about it,¡± said the actor who played the king when he came in to take a quick break in between scenes. ¡°The people we brought up as volunteers last time had, apparently, been mortal enemies. So of course they almost killed each other on stage. Hahaha¡­that was an interesting show. We really had to work hard to make the story work in that vein.¡± Before the finale arrived, Penelope and Yule were finally able to leave backstage. ¡°Sorry for taking up so much room.¡± The Garuda who was there, the narrator at the time, Calliopus, waved his wing dismissively. ¡°No, no, no, sweet girl. We sometimes get people who get stage fright, it¡¯s perfectly normal. Please enjoy the rest of the show. I hope your next experience with us will be a good one.¡± The pair quietly made their way back to their old seats, Matilda and Ulfric looking relieved as they sat back down with them. All around, their other seat neighbours whispered and pointed at the pair, making Penelope feel extremely self conscious. Despite getting her cloak back, it was clear everyone had seen her and her crybaby display and would be remarking on it. ¡°We were worried something happened,¡± whispered Matilda to Penelope, making the girl blush. How embarrassing. She just wanted to crawl under a rock and die all over again. Something soft was pressed against her, drawing her attention. She saw Velma, offering back the rabbit plush earnestly. ¡°Here, you need it more than me,¡± she said kindly, which felt like an arrow to the heart. Even the actual child was pitying her. Nothing could be more mortifying. Penelope took it back, forcing a smiling as she thanked Velma for returning the item. She promptly buried her reddening face in the soft material, fighting the urge to scream. The play was excellent, though. Now getting to see the performance up front and not in the back, she wished she¡¯d come out sooner. While out in the spotlight, the actors looked so grand and glamorous, no small part due to their own colourful selves, but the costume work and acting. They knew exactly how to move themselves to appear larger than life, gathering all stares towards them. Penelope felt inspired. She brought out a paper, smoothing it out on her lap and ones of her pencils, furiously sketching as the play continued. Her favourite amongst the troupe was the actor who played the lead role, glancing at him whenever he came on stage before putting more details to her drawing. She wished she could pause things and make people hold their poses, but she would make do with what she had to work with. Her adaptability was always her strongest trait, in her old life and in this one. The trouble was the beak as the actor did not sit still for long enough for her to get a grasp on it. Every time she looked up from her page, she noticed his beak would be longer, wider, sharper. She kept having to adjust and redo it. ¡°My dear, is that really you?¡± a voice spoke softly. There came a white Macaw looking Garuda who took the stage with the main character, dressed in fine clothes and lovely jewelry. While she knew the entire troupe was made of males, the actor moved so demurely and gracefully, Penelope almost mistook him for a lovely female Garuda meeting her partner. ¡°My love¡­I have changed,¡± the lead said, reaching out to his love. ¡°But I am still he!¡± ¡°My love!¡± ¡°My dear!¡± The two came together on stage, feathers fluttering as they rushed each other and embarrassing passionately. And there ¨C there was the right moment! As the rest of the crowd was screaming, crying and cheering at this heartfelt reunion, Penelope saw her moment to finish her drawing. His beak was just at the right angle! When everyone stood up to give their standing ovation, Penelope cheered, too, though for different reasons, the roar of a happy audience drowning her out so nobody noticed her jubilation at finishing a drawing. After a moment, she realized the show was over and clapped along with everyone as to not stand out. Oops, did I miss most of the show? As the audience broke apart, either to make small groups to discuss the play, to head off for dinner or even to storm the stage to speak with the actors, Penelope and her group remained seated, waiting for the throng to thin before moving. ¡°Oh, what¡¯s that, Miss Penelope?¡± Ulfric asked, peering at the drawing she made. Penelope, eager to show off her work, held it up to let him see. Both adults looked at the drawing in awe, both clearly impressed. ¡°We already know you¡¯re talented from the picture you made of Velma, but this is also exquisite work.¡± Matilda nodded in agreement with her husband. ¡°Yes! I¡¯m sure many of the fans of the troupe would love to have such a good keepsake like this for themselves.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just saying that,¡± Penelope said, feeling bashful from the praise. ¡°It¡¯s messy and made with pencil, not like I took my time like I did for Velma¡¯s picture¡­¡± ¡°But it¡¯s pretty!¡± the other girl insisted, choosing now to pipe up with her own opinion. ¡°Right Velma? Smart girl, you know when something is worth a lot, don¡¯t you?¡± Matilda cooed at her daughter, looking happy. ¡°Honestly, lass, if you decide to sell it, you will find no end to people willing to buy it. Pictures of this detail are quite rare. I think you captured the moment quite clearly.¡± Another audience member, who was passing by to head to the stage, heard the talk and actually came closer to investigate, gasping at the picture. ¡°That¡¯s such a gorgeous picture of Melpom¨¦! Who drew this?!¡± the finely dressed woman asked, looking between Matilda and Ulfric. The couple shook their heads and gestured to Penelope who felt put on the spot all over again. The woman gasped again, recognition in her eyes. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re the dear child who was picked for the prologue. How are you, sweet girl?¡± The woman seemed grandiose, but her words were kind when she spoke to Penelope. Had her explosion of tears been that memorable? ¡°I¡­I¡¯m fine, thank you,¡± Penelope replied, tugging her hood up more. ¡°Oh come, come, my dear. You¡¯re such a pretty girl. Why are you hiding it?¡± the older woman said, hands on her hips, tone now changing to one of disappointment. Honestly, Penelope wished this interaction could stop so she could go home already. Melpom¨¦¡¯s portrait wasn¡¯t the only thing she wanted to draw. There was still Yule¡¯s to consider; she wanted to keep the memory of him dressed like a royal fresh in her mind. When Penelope didn¡¯t seem to want to open up more, the woman sighed and began looking for her change purse. ¡°How much is it?¡± ¡°P-pardon?¡± Now what? ¡°I¡¯d very much like to purchase that drawing, young lady. How much for it?¡± Penelope stood there in stunned silence. Did¡­did someone seriously just wanted to buy her art just like that? ¡°How does 100 Draks sound?¡± ¡°Er¨C¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Then 200?¡± ¡°No, I¡­¡± That¡¯s too much, too much! For a drawing like this, made on a whim, it shouldn¡¯t be so expensive. ¡°The price really should be¡­¡± ¡°What, are you crazy?!¡± Someone else came into the scene, picking up her skirts and rushing closer. It was another nicely dressed woman from the audience. ¡°Just because it¡¯s Melpom¨¦, it¡¯s minimum 200. That picture is so beautifully made¡­I would truly treasure it! A Melpom¨¦ picture that can capture his nobility, grace and handsomeness truly deserves a much higher price! My dear girl ¨C I will give you 250 Draks for this picture!¡± Again, Penelope was struck speechless and unconsciously moved closer to Yule who had stayed silent this whole time, just watching over her during this whole debacle. Of course, when she looked up to him to see what she should do, he turned his gaze away. In other words, he was here to support her emotionally and that was it. She was essentially on her own with handling these hysterical women. ¡°Wait, there¡¯s artwork of Melpom¨¦ being sold? I¡¯d like it!¡± ¡°No, me!¡± ¡°Me! Me! Me!¡± ¡°I was here first!¡± It was quite the cacophony. A crowd had grown out of hand, shouting and vying for a piece of paper that Penelope had only put maybe 30 minutes tops into drawing? It was so not worth the fuss. The crying and screaming and catfighting lasted a good while before the group finally broke apart and Penelope¡¯s own patience. Is this what it¡¯s like at idol shows or at Takarazuka fan meetings? Insane. Penelope came out of there 400 Draks richer, somehow. She had not agreed to the price at all, was just given the money after everyone collectively agreed on what her fanart was worth. Fans were obsessed in this world as they were in her old one, it seemed. She hoped to never have to go through that again. But at least someone walked off happy, so there was that. She watched as the winner of the artwork went off to see the stars of the show, most likely intent on getting an autograph from the lead, who was surrounded by plenty of admirers. From where she was standing, she could see Melpom¨¦ looking shocked and delighted at the picture before signing it for the woman, his crest feathers seeming to ruffle happily. ¡°Want to go home?¡± Yule asked, mirth in his voice. He probably thought the whole situation had been funny. Penelope gave him a dirty look. However, she was more than ready to head back to the shop. Saying their good-byes to the Gidget family, the pair went home, tired, yet content from the day of fun they had.
The Spring Festival was to last a whole week. Every time Penelope needed to step out, the world was super colourful, bustling and loud. She¡¯d had enough the first day, though it did not stop her going out to get some grilled skewers when the temptation struck heR. Of course, she brought some back for everyone (using her own money, because she wanted to treat everyone) and had never gone alone, despite how close the stall was to the shop. Restrictions were still in effect, though there was one notable difference¡­ ¡°Hello, Penelope, sweetheart. Hello, Yule. Here for another set of skewers?¡± the lady working the grill stall asked. She was turning them after giving them a basting of that sweet, tangy sauce Penelope liked. Face visible due to lack of cloak, the girl nodded happily. ¡°It¡¯s my favourite part of the day!¡± The stall lady chuckled at her enthusiasm and handed over the skewers in a bag with a little wink. ¡°I gave you an extra since you¡¯re one of our best customers.¡± Penelope¡¯s eyes were practically sparkling with barely concealed joy. ¡°Really? Thank you!¡± Since the play where her face was bared in front of everyone, there hadn¡¯t been much of a point to hide herself. When Minerva heard what happened, she had sighed a little, but ultimately said that it might actually be a blessing in disguise. ¡°You plan to stay here a while, right? It might be good for the locals to know what you look like,¡± was what the mage had said. As they already knew she had a hand in helping the town save their missing child, to have a face to the identity of someone who helped them would ultimately help her. The girl still felt a little naked without her cloak, but was secretly happy for not wearing it anymore, as the weather was warming up. Truly a sign of spring. On the way back to the shop, the two children heard the shrill voices of hysterical women. Thinking something wrong had happened, they whipped their heads in the direction of the noise, ready to book it, if things got dangerous. And, in a way, they were not wrong in their assessment. Several women were fawning over the star of the Mousai Troup, Melpom¨¦, who was very visible with his golden feathers and confident swagger. His crest feathers stood high as females of various races followed him through the street. Penelope¡¯s eyes caught his gaze and he pointed at her with a feathery wing. ¡°Ah, you there! Girl! I wish to speak with you!¡± he called out. The children looked at each other, then around them to make sure he hadn¡¯t meant someone else. However, there was just the two of them. He approached quickly, followed by his adoring entourage. ¡°I take it you¡¯re the artist of this exquisite piece of work.¡± He gestured to the side just as one of the ladies opened up Penelope¡¯s fanart from the show. Glancing at that woman, she recognized her as the one who won the bidding war. Looking back at Melpom¨¦, she nodded. He bobbed his head approvingly. ¡°An excellent volunteer and an excellent artist ¨C fabulous!¡± Melpom¨¦ spread his wings out dramatically, looking quite pleased as his fans swooned. ¡°My dear girl, take me to your guardians. I would like to propose a business venture with you.¡± After that dramatic introduction, they all went back to the shop, minus the groupies. The ladies all seemed disappointed that Minerva would not let them crowd her shop, almost scolding them for when they originally all pushed each other to try and get inside to follow the acting star. She¡¯d shouted at them about her shop being a place of business, not for silly ladies who can¡¯t conduct themselves in a mature manner in front of children. Melpom¨¦ did manage to smooth things over with his entourage and the owner of the magic shop, promising to go have a drink with the ladies and to behave himself to Minerva. After all, he was here on business. ¡°First off, thank you very much for participating and attending our show,¡± he said gratefully to Penelope, bowing his head to her. ¡°Secondly, I would like to ask your guardians permission for you to make me another portrait that I can have duplicated for sale.¡± ¡°Duplicated?¡± Penelope asked. All her mind could think of was photocopiers. Did they have that kind of technology when they didn¡¯t even have photographs? How did that work? Minerva decided to be the one who supplied an explanation. ¡°There is a spell in the field of Unnatural Magic that allows for making copies of an item.¡± ¡°Oh, really? Any item?¡± Penelope asked, curious. The mage shook her head. ¡°Well, there are limits. The spell cannot copy living beings or things that can be consumed. Plus, copies are of lesser quality than the original.¡± ¡°And why is that?¡± One would think people would jump at a chance to eliminate the possibility of world hunger. ¡°To protect the integrity of the original, in terms of items like jewels or valuables. You can imagine the kinds of trouble there¡¯d be if counterfeits were passed around, right?¡± That made a lot of sense. ¡°What about the food?¡± ¡°Well, in order to make a copy, you need components to make the second item as unless you have Divine Magic, you simply cannot create something from nothing. So in reality, the copy is only perfect on the outside, not the inside. So, by this logic¡­?¡± Minerva looked to Penelope, waiting for her to come to her own conclusions. ¡°...if you need food to make food, then there¡¯s no point in trying to copy food. I get it.¡± ¡°Good girl,¡± Minerva chirped. ¡°As a fun fact, this was how we got Yule to eat his vegetables when he was little.¡± Yule, who had been quiet, shouted indignantly. ¡°Ah! I knew it! I knew something tasted off about all of the meat I was given! So it was you!¡± ¡°Fufufufufufu¡­¡± Penelope tuned out the nephew and aunt pair as they predictably began their daily familial bickering to refocus on Melpom¨¦¡¯s request. ¡°So, why would you like portraits?¡± ¡°It¡¯s for the fans, honestly. We are a decently famous troupe and we would like to have something we could sell as a souvenir that wouldn¡¯t take up so much room, as we are a travelling troupe and we must travel as light as physically possible,¡± the Garuda explained. ¡°Makes sense. If you tried selling anything other than something paper thin, it would be hard to store it with the rest of your belongings. You build the stage and break it down yourselves, right?¡± Penelope inquired. ¡°Oh, you know your stuff little lady!¡± Not really, just that my old company had me do all kinds of ridiculous things outside the scope of my actual job, so I had to learn how to do things like set up a stage for a conference really fast. That sort of work is not easy, especially for an amateur. ¡°We were thinking one portrait of each cast member in our costumes, with your permission to duplicate.¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t mind the drawing part. I love to draw. Even if you weren¡¯t going to pay me I would have been happy to do it. You¡¯re all so colourful and beautiful¡­it¡¯s why I drew you in the first place Mr Melpom¨¦. But why would you need my permission to make copies?¡± ¡°As an older, fellow artist, let me tell you that it is always important to protect your works. Someone else may own it, but the work is all your own and must not be claimed by others. Your guardian already explained that protection of an original work is important, right? Well, unless someone doesn¡¯t own it, people can¡¯t use that spell willy-nilly, you know.¡± So, it was sort of like a copyright law, in a way. That was how Penelope understood it. Basically, only the troupe and Penelope would have the rights to distribute the pictures, in this case. If she didn¡¯t give them permission, it might as well be considered theft. The girl nodded, getting the gist of it. But then she recalled how many actors there were. ¡°Wait, there¡¯s nine of you! You want me to do that many portraits?! How long are you staying in Birain?¡± They were already on the 5th day of the festival, which meant only two more days remained. She was fast, but if they wanted something of quality she would need more time than 30 minutes per actor. ¡°Oh, worry not, sweet child. We are intending to stay a week after all is said and done, to rest up and prepare for the next town performance. So that should give you enough time, yes?¡± Quickly calculating, that meant one day per actor before they had to leave. ¡°Won¡¯t you have to make a request at the guild?¡± That was how it worked last time and Penelope did not wish that kind of paperwork upon anyone for a single portrait, let alone nine. They probably only needed to fulfill one request, but she had a feeling the clerks might not be having a good time at the moment with so many new people visiting town for the festival. Melpom¨¦ placed a wing over his head, the other dramatically upon his golden head. ¡°For our adoring public? We could withstand anything! When you have built everything up from nothing as we have, pushing and perfecting our art, it is the people who supported us that makes us who we are as a troupe. ¡± Putting it like that, Penelope really couldn¡¯t say no. And honestly, it would be a good excuse to practice, too. The Garuda people presented her with interesting curves and angles to try and recreate on paper. It was a shame she didn¡¯t have access to colours, because they had so many that it would be difficult to replicate their hues in simple black and white, but she would try. ¡°All right. I don¡¯t see why not.¡± Of course, they would have to use Cynthia as their middle man at the guild yet again, but until Penelope could accept actual commissions directly, they would continue to do it this way. The payment was also negotiated once Minerva rejoined the conversation proper, so that Penelope would be compensated fairly. It was her least favourite part of these jobs, she decided. She, apparently, wasn¡¯t very good at gauging her own worth as an artist. Listening to the adults talk about money, she realized what she had been paid truly was the low end. She thought Ulfric had just been nice to her, as well as the woman who bought her ready made portrait, but hearing from someone in a similar field, she now understood her art, amateurish as it was, was worth something. In Iralon¨¦, mementos like photos did not exist because the technology did not exist. The closest one had were artists who took commissions to draw someone and then commissioned a mage to make the copies, if one wished to distribute them. And as items like paints, inks, canvases, clays, marble and the like were expensive, so too were the time of those trained to use them. Having the image of someone immortalized was a luxury and one people truly appreciated. Artists were important to society as much as scholars were, who recorded knowledge and history. Recalling exactly how someone looked back in history, or to have a keepsake so loved ones could never be forgotten; it was a shocking revelation, since she was so used to living in a world where images were easy to come by and some were even generated by machines. How easy it was to take for granted, images made by others, when you don¡¯t understand how hard it is to make them in the first place. The effort and the time dedicated to it. It gave her a lot of food for thought about her own existence in this world, as well as a bit of hope. Maybe she would be able to make it as an artist in her new life. Though it was all circumstantial, she seemed to be doing pretty well. Penelope rolled up her sleeves, determination in her eyes. ¡°All right. So, who¡¯s first?! I¡¯m going to draw the best portraits of your troupe, ever!¡± CHAPTER 15 - The Artist Views the Fireworks ¡°Welcome to the Ceralde Branch of the Bank of Birain, how may I help you today?¡± greeted a male Cyno clerk with a polite smile. Dressed smartly, the male gave off an air of someone quite professional. His ears were perked and twitching slightly. Penelope thought he was like a police dog, listening for anything strange happening. ¡°H-Hello, sir. I¡¯m here to open my first account,¡± Penelope greeted, as she was coached by Minerva. After accepting her second commission, Minerva said it was about time she got her own account and accompanying card. After getting paid for her first commission, a fanart sale and expecting more from a second commission and a bounty reward that was still being processed at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, the mage did not think it was safe for Penelope to be carrying around all of her money in her bag. For one, it was a small satchel which barely contained the art supplies she insisted on taking with her everywhere; Minerva had to make the young artist choose what she kept with her instead of trying to cram all of it in there. With this in mind, it was crazy to also shove all of the gold she had. She was a walking target for thieves that way. And so, where they were, finally opening up an account. Minerva, wearing her best stern witch face, presented her own card. ¡°I am her guarantor since she is still underage.¡± Accepting the card, the clerk bowed respectfully, placing it upon a plate. A magic circle activated, showing him some information. After checking some details, he nodded approvingly, before handing the card back to Minerva and dipping under the counter to grab some forms. Penelope saw them and sarcastically thought, Oh, goody. More forms. Yay. Am I in a magical world or am I still back at my old desk job? Who knew other worlds that had magic could also just be as mundane as Earth. At least Minerva seemed very well versed with handling paperwork. Between the two of them, they zoomed through each page. The older woman joked about Penelope helping her more with the books back at the shop, considering how quickly she had picked up the language and always seemed good with numbers for her age. Well, I am actually an educated middle aged woman, so of course my numbers are a bit better than your average ten-year old. Not that she had revealed that detail to everyone. While they were aware that Penelope was a more unique existence as someone reborn in this world, they did not know the extent of who she was beforehand. At the very least, they all understood she was a young goddess blessed child, though it was only evident if she openly used her abilities. She otherwise seemed normal (or tried to be; Penelope had no idea how actual ten year olds acted). After the paperwork was done and Penelope was given her first bank card. She was asked to choose specific symbols for her magic circle that would be connected to her account and to memorize them in case she needed to identify her account at any point in the future, but otherwise, the whole thing was pretty painless. Her first deposit was decidedly hefty and was a literal weight off of her shoulders; a small receipt was given to her to know what the total amount would be sitting in her account and she smiled at the number there. She was slowly establishing herself in this world. ¡°Thank you for your help, Minerva,¡± the girl said gratefully as she stared at her shiny new card. Only she had access to the money behind this card and no one else. Now she could securely make transactions without needing to carry around a lot of cash, though she kept some coins on her just in case. Penelope changed a few gold coins into copper ones, operating under the idea that people paid less attention to you if you used the lower coinage. Back when she had been Kasumi, looking poor had been to her advantage when moving between jobs and home in the middle of the night. There was no point in robbing someone worse off than you. ¡°It¡¯s no problem, Penelope. I should have done this for you sooner, but I suppose things get in the way sometimes hm?¡± Minerva winked at the last word, making her charge stare at the ground bashfully. The little problem she had had been taken care of by a small talk with the older woman and a special potion for controlling one¡¯s cycle when taken once a month. Of course, since it was taken in the midst of her cycle, it was too late, but it would prepare her body for it the next time. The potion stopped the cycle until a female chose not to drink it again. It was a great invention that took the comfort of women worldwide seriously. Better than the birth control her old world had, at any rate. She prayed for her fellow women in her old world to one day attain something as miraculous as this. She¡¯d only had her period once and she would never wish it on anybody, let alone for over 40 years of their lives. Before heading back to the shop, Penelope was going to be escorted to the entertainment square where all the performers for the festival had congregated. She would be left with the troupe so she could do her work, before the show of the day began. If she wanted to complete everything by the time they left, it was imperative she got a head start. As they made their way there, Penelope spotted a large group of people, listening to someone making a speech passionately on the street. Their robes were white and lined with grey, with little embellishments, aside from a strange symbol they wore on a thick cord. She didn¡¯t quite hear what that person said, but she managed to catch snippets such as ¡®be saved by the goddess¡¯ and ¡®build a temple¡¯. ¡°That¡¯s a member of the temple of Tulilith, the Goddess of Rebirth,¡± Minerva explained, noticing her charge be distracted. ¡°Best to be careful around them. They¡¯re not all bad, but some of their practices are¡­¡± Her expression darkened, trailing off there. The mage made them take a different route to avoid being seen or seeing the clergyman in the midst of his sermon about building a temple within town, since they apparently lacked one. However, that did not interest her as much as Minerva¡¯s aversion to them did. She had been warned to stay away from them before, but never had Penelope see such a stormy look on her face. There was a story there. Unfortunately, she did not have a chance to ask about it, as they soon arrived at their intended destination. Before she left, Minerva crouched to be more at her level, tenderly smoothing down her hair and tucking some behind an ear. There was concern shining in her eyes, her forehead wrinkling with thoughts of something distressing while she put on a reassuring smile. Unbidden, Penelope reached up and cupped her guardian¡¯s cheek. ¡°Hey, is something wrong, Minerva?¡± The older woman, surprised, stood there shocked for a moment. And then she shook her head at Penelope. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Penelope. You just have fun drawing today, all right?¡± Not convinced something wasn¡¯t wrong, the girl just let her hand drop away and nod for now. They both had their secrets and it was only fair if she didn¡¯t pry when the older woman had always respected her own privacy. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll see you later, Minerva.¡± They parted ways, leaving Penelope to worriedly watch as Minerva hurried away. When she could no longer see the mage, Penelope went backstage to meet the members of the Mousai Troupe.
A million things were in Minerva Riverthorn¡¯s mind as she dragged the clergyman behind her, ignoring his pleas for her to be gentle, not caring when the pleas turned to insults of insanity. The mage cared not one whit. ¡°I''ve said it before and I''ll say it again ¨C you and your ilk are not welcome in Ceralde.¡± Oh, yes. There was a story to be had between herself and the members of the temple of Tulilith. A longstanding feud born of rumors and hearsay, but she knew the truth. Everyone who ever lost a family member to the temple did. Either by forced recruitment into the fold or by death. Minerva had the unfortunate fate of experiencing both and from that, her hatred for those of the cloth had been born, but also her love and care for the innocents. They could do whatever they wanted anywhere, but here. As long as she never saw them there would be no problem. And for many a year, she had seen neither hide nor hair of their presence. While her position was not what it used to be, the people from the temple had always respected her space¡­and her demands. After all, that was the least they could do. To see one of them here¡­ ¡°I don¡¯t know if you came here of your own stupid will, or someone sent you here on purpose, either way¡­¡± They had almost reached the edge of town. The clergyman tried to escape her grasp this whole time, kicking, screaming and struggling. Minerva had not bothered trying to hide what she was doing, so many saw her bodily drag a grown adult through the streets in this humiliating fashion, like an angry school teacher about to punish an errant student. Everyone turned their heads, pretending to have seen nothing. The visitors not knowing what was going on and not wishing to get involved scurried off. The locals who had always been ignored by the temple, ignored the man in turn. Ever since her younger sister, Iris, died, nothing had ever been the same in Minerva¡¯s heart. It was as if the world had become grey. Though she still lived her life, found her joys and her purpose, it did not stop the sadness and rage every time she saw someone of the cloth. ¡°I don¡¯t have jurisdiction over any of you, but you would think such a simple request could be kept.¡± At the entrance of town, the woman strengthened herself with magic, holding fast and then throwing the shrieking clergyman with everything she had. He went sailing high and far ¨C perhaps it had been a bit much and she could have aimed a bit better, but, oh, well. Hopefully this would be a one-off pilgrimage some green behind the ears cleric was attempting to do. After all, in all of Birain, only Ceralde lacked a temple dedicated to any of the goddesses. It would boost a cleric¡¯s reputation if they went back to headquarters with news that they convinced the locals to build one there. Assholes. Cheats. Fakes. Liars. Murderers. Hiding behind a veil of piety and religious goodness, they manipulated the people of this land to serve their own ends. All to have absolute control of Birain, a land beloved by Tulilith, because they had the delusional claim to the throne through members of the factioned royal family. Nobody knew if it was the temple organization itself or from the royal blood that backed them, but their wish to control the country had long since been shown to the world. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It was a constant fight between the state and the church. Normally places who were on the very edges of the kingdom never saw these people, so it was rarely a problem and a problem simultaneously. People who were in need never saw their aid, so they turned their backs on them and became self-sufficient, which garnered the attention of the organization anyways to try and grab a foothold. And once they did, they simply just did whatever they wanted. To the masses, to go against the temple was foolish twofold: to go against them was to be against the goddess and that was heresy. But to deny them anything was also lese majesty, as the heads of the temple were always of royal blood, and could be punishable by death depending on the severity of the person¡¯s defiance. Of course, Minerva cared not. They could try to come after her, if they wanted. But Ceralde was hers. And she would safeguard it from their ilk until her dying breath. ¡°Don¡¯t ever come back!¡± she shouted into the air, letting out all of her anger and tension. Honestly, she felt much better after getting all of that out of her system. She didn¡¯t want to scare the customers with an angry face, especially not the young ones accompanying their parents for a pick up. ¡°Time to go back to work,¡± Minerva chirped to herself, satisfied at a job well done. She went back into town to open up shop, putting the thought of the temple out of her mind.
On the final day of the festival, Yule had asked Penelope to go out with him again, this time after dinner. Rarely had their little group allowed themselves out after dark, unless it was to grab a bite to eat when none of them felt like cooking (a welcomed treat). Normally they turned in to their own little activities in the evening until bedtime. ¡°Is there something special today?¡± Penelope asked, putting her supplies away. She¡¯d finished her second picture of her commission and felt proud of how it came out; a whimsical portrait of Calliopus playing his lyre with roses surrounding him. The finished work was placed with the first one she¡¯d finished the other day, of one of the other troupe members. ¡°There are fireworks tonight,¡± he untold her. ¡°Do you want to go see them?¡± ¡°Fireworks?¡± Penelope breathed out, eyes wide. Fireworks! She loved them! That splash of bright light and colour amidst a darkened sky, like blooming flowers that lived only to illuminate before fading off into nothingness. They were one of the few things she got to enjoy, a fleeting moment of happiness when she had been Kasumi, living in the night. She had only ever watched them from a distance, but they were more precious than shooting stars. The idea of seeing them brought her no small amount of delight and so she smiled widely as she nodded her agreement. ¡°Yes, please! I¡¯d love to go!¡± she said and Yule smiled in turn. The two of them had gotten a little closer since the play. He smiled more around her and though still possessing an eternal grumpy face, he was more patient with her, too. Always attentive when they were outside and even inside. Whatever business he had whenever he disappeared for an hour or so every day must have concluded, because he was there more often. However, whenever she told him he was sweet or a good kid, he just got this cute, irritated look on his face as he told her he was just paying back her kindness from before. It was pretty funny how dishonest he was. She could tell he was just trying to be more friendly with her. And honestly, it was fine. She¡¯d never had much of a childhood, or maybe she didn¡¯t remember it well, since it had been unremarkable before her whole family dynamic changed. But now she was doing her best to savour it. Yule was her first real friend in her new life and she would commit to memory everything they did together! She also had a present for him. Aside from the work she was meant to do for the troupe, she had a side project that she meticulously worked on ¨C Yule¡¯s portrait as the young king from the play. She still recalled his striking figure dressed up like that and wanted to commemorate that moment forever. He had given her such nice gifts, she should return the favour! Penelope took the picture with her before they took off to see the fireworks together. Minerva and Cynthia were going as well. ¡°It¡¯s too bad I can¡¯t see any of the colours,¡± Cynthia stated, sounding a little miffed. Apparently none of the Cyno race were capable of seeing in colour. Penelope held back from asking what she could see, figuring it might be rude and maybe a sour point to bring up. ¡°And they¡¯re too loud.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s still fun to go out together for them,¡± Minerva piped in. Cynthia grinned at her partner and offered her hand gallantly, the mage placing hers in response. They stared at each other intensely, expressions showing adoration and peace. Yule made a face that said he wanted to puke, while Penelope just smiled at the two adults. However, he wiped that look off his face and turned towards Penelope. A hand was offered to her, rather than taking her hand on its own as he was used to doing. He was giving her the choice to accept him as her escort, the same way Cynthia had for Minerva. There was just something in the way he offered that made the girl feel shy. Happy, but shy and she couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint why that way. Her hand slipped into his, intertwining their fingers together and they went off hand in hand with their guardians. ¡°Have you ever seen fireworks before?¡± Penelope asked. ¡°I have. We see them almost all the time in the capital, so it¡¯s nothing really new for me,¡± he explained, almost sounding bored by that. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°I have. I love them,¡± she replied, unabashed. ¡°Whenever I saw them, I used to make wishes on them.¡± ¡°Wishes? Really?¡± He almost seemed to laugh at her admission, but stopped at just a small amused smirk. Poutilly, Penelope said, ¡°Well, where I lived you could never hope to see the stars. So instead of shooting stars, I made wishes on fireworks. It¡¯s not that weird is it?¡± His eyes softened and he shook his head. ¡°No, I guess not. Sorry, Penelope. I guess I¡¯m just so used to them, they just seem normal to me.¡± Penelope was about to snap back with a retort about him living such a privileged life, yet her own experience kept her mouth shut. If he had lived like some rich boy, that wasn¡¯t the case now. After all, the poor boy had been chased out of his home, without the rest of his family. She chose to remain silent, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back, after a fashion. The area where they would go to view the festival finale fireworks was on a viewing platform made just for the occasion, within the entertainment square where many of the acts and performers had already packed up, with the exception of the Mousai Troupe¡¯s tents. Yule helped Penelope to her seat as it was a bit taller than she was used to climbing onto, before taking his own seat. ¡°...Will you be making a wish?¡± came the question. Penelope shook her head. Yule gently nudged her. ¡°You should. If you want to make a wish on the fireworks, you can do that.¡± ¡°...I don¡¯t even know what I would want to wish for.¡± Back when she had been Kasumi, those wishes under the bursting colours in the sky had always been to somehow find happiness, to escape the living Hell she had found herself in. Over and over and they burst above her head. Now that she was here, in this world, what could she possibly hope for? Things were more or less peaceful, she could draw all she liked and she was starting to call Ceralde home. There were people here who genuinely cared, as far as she could tell. Dare she be greedy and ask for more? ¡°What would you wish for, Yule?¡± she asked in return. Yule was taken aback. ¡°Me?¡± He never expected to be asked that, however he actually took the question seriously. He closed his eyes and let himself be lost in thought. Penelope couldn¡¯t read his expression, but at some point he looked torn about something and shook his head. ¡°...Yule?¡± Penelope pressed. The boy jumped, brought out of his revelry. ¡°Ah, um¡­sorry. I don¡¯t know. Never made a wish before.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Must have been nice living a life that allowed him to not want to wish for something. Since the fireworks weren¡¯t starting yet, she decided to give him his present. Fishing through her bundle of papers, she pulled out the one she had drawn of him in his kingly glory. It was presented to him without a single word and he accepted it gingerly, careful with handling it. His eyes slowly scanned the drawing, taking in each pencil stroke, every detail painstakingly done to truly represent him in that one moment during the play the other day. Yule was completely still and silent, except for the movement of his eyes and the longer that silence stretched, the more worried Penelope became. Oh, no, she thought, deflating. Did he hate it? Why didn¡¯t he say anything? Why was his face so blank? Why was his silence so devastating? Feeling bad, she thought to treat the moment lightly, ¡°Aha, sorry I guess it¡¯s not quite that good yet. I¡¯ll take it ba¨C¡± ¡°I like it.¡± His voice was quick and rushed, yet very sincere. His eyes, wide with wonder, admiration and shock were now directly aimed at the artist, looking straight at her. There was no smile, but somehow the serious expression he wore as he stared at no one, but her, meant more than anything. Her heart calmed and the pain went away. All she could really say in that moment was, ¡°I¡¯m glad!¡± Relief and joy filled her and in that same moment, a loud whistling sound went off before a huge explosion, drawing everyone¡¯s attention skyward. The amassed crowd cheered and whooped as the fireworks show began, signalling the end of the festivities. One after another, the sky was painted in a myriad of colours and shapes. Blooming like flowers, the fireworks sparkled and blasted throughout, keeping up the attention of everyone in town. From the very center of Ceralde, to the edges and beyond the town¡¯s limits, even though still out in the water, could see the ephemeral light painting being made and then fading. Penelope realized that the show would be over with if she didn¡¯t act now and clasped her hands together and tried to make a wish. What do I want now? That was the main thing. She had never truly wanted anything before. She had learned to give up any prospects, any will, other than trying to survive with the least amount of pain possible. Surviving, not living. Living was too much for her before, but now¡­? What if¡­what I want isn¡¯t for me, would that be all right, too? Looking up at one pretty blue burst, she made her wish. Please, let my friends be safe and happy. She thought this over and over and over, practically pushing the thought out into manifesting, as she did for her own magic. Maybe if her intent was strong enough, it would come true. Bringing her hands down, Penelope felt quite satisfied with the wish she made, turning to look at the rest of her group. Minerva and Cynthia were enjoying each other¡¯s company, foreheads touching as Minerva covered Cynthia¡¯s ears and Cynthia placing her hands on the mage¡¯s hips. Yule had his own hands clasped together, as if in prayer. Was he making a wish, too? He noticed her looking at him and turned to face her with a soft look. ¡°Is something on my face?¡± he asked, voice a little louder to rise above the din of the fireworks. Penelope blushed, caught. She shook her head. ¡°N-no! I was just wondering if you were making a wish.¡± He smirked a little at her. ¡°Hm, who knows?¡± Oh, so he was too cool to tell her, was that it? Fine. Crossing her arms, she looked away in a feigned sulk. ¡°Really? Well, I wish you¡¯d grow big ears!¡± Laughing, he leaned back in his seat and told her, ¡°And I wished you¡¯d turn pink and get antlers.¡± ¡°Weirdo!¡± ¡°Takes one to know one!¡± They stared at each other for a while. One second stretched into another and then a third. And, soon enough, they both melted into laughter. Out of habit, they found each other¡¯s hands and locked them together again, snuggling up to watch the fireworks as they slowly ebbed into the quiet, starry night. CHAPTER 16 – The Artist Goes Outside Alone The temple of Tulilith had long ago been established as the forefront of divine right and power, by the first followers of the goddess. According to legends, a great cataclysm befell Iralon¨¦, destroying all life in the world. Plants, animals, people ¨C nothing was spared. In her infinite benevolence and pity upon the world, she brought back many lives that had been lost and made them stronger beings that could survive the evils that infested the world. Tulilith gave the newly reborn people memories of their past, so that the same calamity would never be repeated, proclaiming that the lessons of the past must be passed down. This was how the history of Iralon¨¦ began, as fantastical stories and legends that were carefully recorded and passed down through the generations and spread through the entire world as religion grew and spread. No place celebrated the benevolent goddess more than the country of Birain. Reincarnation was a guaranteed thing in Iralon¨¦, though many do not recall who they were or were not born with special blessings. Perhaps 1 in 100000 would be born different than the rest of the world, with strange knowledge and powers beyond reasoning. However, in Birain, whose king selection was based upon the whims of the goddess, seeing one blessed by Tulilith was more likely, with chances in the past being as high as 1 in 1000. However, the number of people given the divine touch began to decline in more recent history. Rumors spoke of the goddess being displeased as, over time, the corruption in people¡¯s hearts became known with every succession of the Birain throne. Infighting and deception became the norm, but the goddess was ever watching, and so knew the truth and became cross with their country. So those blessed by her appeared more in other countries and less within the kingdom. The highest seat of the temple of Tulilith was found within the headquarters located in Birain, as that was where her ¡®disciples¡¯ would normally be born. Seeing less and less divine ability within their congregation, those in high ranks became desperate to keep their seat of power. So they falsely proclaimed all who were blessed belonged to the goddess and thus, must be a member of the temple, no matter how anyone felt, which people also assumed must have angered the goddess. There was a great divide within the believers of Tulilith. Those who believed she wanted the people of the world to live good, satisfied lives, whereas there were the zealots who saw many as beneath them and unclean ¨C unworthy of the gifts and those must either beg or surrender them. The temple, while wearing the face of someone benevolent, unfortunately fell into the latter category, though they were good at hiding it from the lower class masses. Those in higher ranks, such as the nobility, were a lot more careful and had quite the balancing act to perform while tending to their lands. Of course, there were those who joined hands with the temple and never saw any problems with what they did, sol long as they benefited. Others had to work carefully to hold them at bay, yet also welcome them, as their people also determined whether chaos or peace would reign and angering people who religiously followed the word of the temple could be dangerous for everyone involved. Only one place in Birain lacked a temple dedicated to the goddess and that was the port town of Ceralde. Being so out of the way, no one had ever bothered establishing the church there. And when a certain mage made her home there, they truly had no business visiting the port, as any member of the clergy would be (violently) ejected from town by its resident witch. However, it was the only place they had not yet checked for any candidates that had possible ties to the goddess. The very last place of hope to know that the love of their goddess had not entirely evaporated. And the last chance for the heir of the second family of the royal bloodline of Birain to solidify his rightful place as future king. The temple needed him to take the throne. After receiving the divine message that a reborn child would soon be among them, several members of the clergy were sent to every corner of the kingdom to search for the divine child. Ten long years of searching, turned up nothing. Based on historical records, the children of Tulilith always gravitated to the capital or the surrounding area, so their search had begun there. In the hopes of securing the child and making the coup of the throne, easier and bloodless ¨C if they could raise that child, mold it to what they wanted of them, then the throne would be under the temple¡¯s control once more. The world was a chaotic place. In a myriad of colours that represented the individuality of each person that did not deserve it. Before the rebirth of the world, the colours of the world had been uniform, set. Peaceful. However, after receiving their newfound abilities, people squandered them, living sinfully. Everyone had fallen off the righteous path and only the chosen were worthy of the gifts they had been given. As they could not force people to follow the edicts handed down to them by the followers of Tulilith, the best they could do was to control the crown and, therefore, control the laws that had sway over the people. And to do that they needed their chosen heir to become king. Of course, being unable to find the fated child who could lift up their chosen candidate to kinghood before or after the divine message, they moved in the shadows. Plotting first to get rid of the first queen, the wife of the current king and then setting him up with a political partner from their faction and quickly having a child. After that they must get rid of the children. It all went out of order, of course, as the first queen was strong, wily and cunning. Only through schemes did the concubine find her place as such, after forcefully getting herself pregnant with the king¡¯s child while his wife was still alive and well. It had been quite the scandal, unfortunately. Weakening the child¡¯s power and authority, despite his royal blood born of two bloodlines. It was no secret that the concubine had only been given the title to save face, but the king never allowed her near him nor touched him again. The child had not been at fault and he accepted him, yet it was true he would never succeed him; his firstborn son, Ulysses, would be the one to inherit the throne in absence of divine intervention. The child was not announced as a reincarnation of a king and neither had they been found to be groomed to be their prince¡¯s partner. So they did what they must. It would be for the greater good. However, not everyone saw it that way. The death of a beloved monarch and his children would never sit so well. And so, they searched. And searched and searched and searched, in order to have legitimacy. They had little hope and would only see more turmoil in the future for their treachery. If only they had found that child, then they wouldn¡¯t be going through all of this mess. And then that one clergy returned to one of their smaller temples, to make contact with headquarters. He had come from the furthest parts of the kingdom, visiting small towns that had not yet accepted the light of their goddess. His modest mission was to spread the sermons of Tulilith and her temple, perhaps convince the locals to build a shrine for her so she could be openly worshipped. The outer limits were home to non-humans and foreigners alike; barbarians ,in their eyes, who worshipped other deities. However, he had strayed too far from his original route and wound up in Ceralde where he had been unceremoniously ejected by the witch known as Minerva Riverthorn. But before he had been dragged away, he noticed an interesting detail. ¡°There had been a girl accompanying Mage Riverthorn. Around ten years of age with light blue hair,¡± the clergyman had explained in a message sent by magic. The temple had many magical artefacts to their name, collected over the years as relics of former heroes of the world. One such thing allowed messages to appear back and forth in real time, in the form of text between enchanted books. Only the main cathedral had the original and spread copies through their various temples to be used by the higher ranked clergy. ¡°Are you sure that you saw blue?¡± ¡°Yes, very sure. A human child of around ten years of age.¡± Now, why were they fixated on the colour of her hair? It was very simple; only those truly blessed by Tulilith would possess such a colour. In this world, there were people born with brown hair, blonde hair, black hair and red hair ¨C all known as natural colours. However, historically, those touched by the divine came back with strange colour choices. There had once been a boy born with pink hair who went on to be the best gardener in the world. At some point, a child with teal hair who grew up to become a tyrant in a neighbouring country. And, yes, Ionian Laertes Raviseul himself ¨C the legendary first king and hero of Birain ¨C had been a man who possessed pale blue hair and clear blue eyes. Of course, the last place they would look had to be the one place they swore to never enter. It was only by chance that they had made such a discovery. It only made sense; they had found nothing anywhere else. This was quite the problem, as Minerva Riverthorn was not a woman to be trifled with as seen by how she readily threw out someone from the temple the moment she saw them. It was to be expected, since they were the ones responsible for the death of her beloved sister and the coup against the royal family, whose deaths included her little nephew and niece. Not that she could prove they had a hand in the former, but since the coup, it might as well have confirmed everyone¡¯s silent suspicions. Truly, their impatience had made things quite the mess. But now that they had a lead, they would ask for forgiveness later. They needed to confirm the presence of the divine child. And so, plans were made to send envoys to Ceralde as soon as possible.
The newest commissions were finished in record time, much to Penelope¡¯s pride and chagrin. The Garuda performers had been some of the best models she had ever worked with (the only ones, honestly) and she had a great time transcribing their form and personalities into drawings. Alternating between seeing them stand still on a platform for her to watch and sketch directly and then watching them act, she gained a good understanding of everyone in the Mousai Troupe. On the day she was meant to deliver the finished pictures, Calliopus came to pick them up instead. Minerva asked for the finished artwork, as she would be making copies on behalf of the troupe as part of the commission. Apparently, they wanted some copies made before leaving Ceralde to continue their tour of the kingdom. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Penelope got to watch as Minerva drew two separate magic circles on the main shop floor where there was ample room to do so. One circle had a bunch of blank paper and the other would soon have one of her drawings placed within. Once it was set, Minerva activated the circles with a simple chant, ¡°From one to the other, a myriad of copies ¨C Trace!¡± A light shone from each of the circles, back and forth from one to the other. First the circle that held her drawing would flash with a white light, and then the second circle would false in turn, a cheerful green. This repeated several times in front of them until Minerva ended the spell, when she was satisfied with it. Looking over at the stack of parchment, Penelope was surprised to see exact duplicates of her artwork. Wow, so these two magic circles act like a photocopier? But without the stress of changing toners or getting paper jams. Where was this in my old life? The process was repeated for each piece of art until there was at least 30 copies per drawing. Minerva was paid for her services as a witch by Calliopus with a quick touch of bank cards. Penelope would be picking her pay up at the Guild with Cynthia. ¡°I offer my magic services in shop, but I rarely ever actually have someone make a request,¡± she explained to the awestruck Penelope who was interested in such a spell. After all, the mage had previously explained this spell could copy other objects as well. She could only imagine how it would work in conjunction with her ability to make anything become real. Seeing the curious spark in the girl¡¯s eyes, the older woman had to hide an amused smile. ¡°Do you want to learn how to use this spell?¡± ¡°Yes, please!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make it part of lessons later today.¡± ¡°Yay~!¡± Honestly, her days have been so full of things to do lately. It felt good to keep busy. Learning about the world, working for her own money through her favourite hobby, and being surrounded by good people¡­she felt so happy, she was worried this might be all some dream. That maybe she hadn¡¯t died that fateful night and was just in some deep coma, trapped within her subconscious, trying to relive her childhood years in some made-up fantastical world. ¡°You look like you¡¯re in a good mood,¡± Yule asked as he came in from running errands at the market. The restrictions on children going out alone had been lifted and the older boy made use of this fact to go out as much as possible. What he did, she had no clue, but she looked forward to greeting him whenever he returned. The girl smiled though, looking proud of herself. ¡°Welcome home, and yes! I am! I worked hard today.¡± ¡°Is that right?¡± He looked at her gently and with a hint of amusement. After a moment, he pulled out something wrapped and smelled absolutely divine. Penelope knew this scent anywhere! ¡°Well, Miss Hard Worker, I got you something from the pub you like so much.¡± It was meat skewers. Since the festival was over, the stall that had made her favourite snack had closed down. However, Yule managed to find the restaurant responsible for the stall and sometimes stopped by to grab her a skewer or two, as a treat. Penelope looked at him as if he were an angel coming down with a divine missive just for her. ¡°Let me help you put the rest of the things away and we can have lunch together!¡± ¡°Ah, about that, I have to go back out, but I¡¯ll be back for dinner and lessons,¡± Yule said, scratching at his cheek awkwardly. ¡°Oh, is that so?¡± She was disappointed to hear her friend would not be having lunch with her, but understood he may have things he wanted to do now that he was free to do so. Yule even joined the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, being old enough to do so under Birain labor laws. Adventure called towards young boys this age, so she understood. Though now the skewers may not be as tasty; he only bribed her like this whenever he would be away, she noticed. ¡°I will be back,¡± he insisted, seeing her starting to be sulky. ¡°I know that,¡± she replied, her voice holding more than a hint of a pout. ¡°Just be safe, all right?¡± Yule nodded. ¡°I will,¡± he promised. Patting the girl¡¯s head, he said his farewell and left the shop again. ¡°My, but he¡¯s gotten busy,¡± Minerva said out of the blue, startling Penelope. The girl had forgotten that the older woman was still in the room. Minerva chuckled and apologized for startling the girl. ¡°Well, today¡¯s a slow day, so why don¡¯t you go out, too? No reason to stay in all day.¡± That¡­might not be a bad idea. Even though the restrictions had been lifted for a few days now, Penelope never took the opportunity to leave and explore more of town on her own. Did this mean she was more of a homebody or was it old habits making her stick to a safe routine? ¡°Hmm¡­why not? I haven¡¯t been outside in a while.¡± Maybe some window shopping would be fun. Her ventures outside had always been through a set route, so her knowledge of the layout of town was actually quite limited. ¡°Yes, your childhood is the best time to explore the world around you,¡± Minerva encouraged. The older woman ushered her out, telling the girl she could handle putting away the things Yule had brought in. ¡°Come back home before dark.¡± Sunny was the best way to describe the day as Penelope stepped outside, adjusting her satchel so it fell more comfortably on her shoulder. She could practically taste the warmth of the sun shining down on her; it made her feel a little more energized. It was comfortable walking outside. The streets were still rather busy this time of day, though the amount of people definitely lessened as many had left town now that the Spring Festival was over. Penelope didn¡¯t need to be as mindful about avoiding strangers as she meandered around. Now where to go? She knew the market street very well and knew the way to the forest where Cynthia did most of her work, as well as the way to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. There were plenty of places to explore, so she could just pick a direction and walk until she spotted something interesting. Closing her eyes, she spun herself around, counting to ten before stopping abruptly (and almost falling over, since she made herself dizzy). Opening her eyes, she looked to a path she would be taking and could feel a breeze brushing through her hair, carrying with it the scent of the sea. So, was this towards the docks or the shores? Keeping an eye on which direction she had come from, Penelope went ahead and started walking. Her path brought her through the same square where all of the entertainment for the festival had been set up. Not long ago, colourful tents and a stage stood tall here, where avian-like actors told the story of a king coming home from war. Today had been the last point of contact she¡¯d have with the troupe when Calliopus came to pick up his order; they¡¯d most likely packed everything up that morning and had been waiting for the commission to be finished before leaving. The experience she had in the moment had been terrifying, but looking back on it, she was glad to have been able to participate with Yule. She hoped she could meet them again in the future. Taking a moment to really look around, it seemed like a normal square. All quiet now that there was no one there to fill it with music, dance and play. The buildings around had no signs dangling from above doors, so she wasn¡¯t sure if they were shops or something else. Seeing it so empty let her appreciate exactly how huge the area was and how well paved the ground had been, most likely to make dancing and hosting a stage more stable and flat. Penelope assumed dancing on uneven ground or acting on a rickety stage was probably not the best way to go about things. Crouching down, she touched the smooth masonry work, admiring it all. Like a large stone canvas. Penelope had the urge to draw on it, but held back, because she was sure the town would not appreciate her drawing graffiti on it. ¡°What are you doing there?!¡± a voice called out angrily, bringing Penelope out of her reverie. She had yelped, startled into standing up straight, hands flat at her side and face set into a blank expression. The last time someone shouted at her like that, she would narrowly escape having a beer can (or bottle) thrown at her head. It may just be her own method to cope with the possibility of incoming violence, but she always subscribed to staying very still ¨C danger came for those who moved, as if she were facing a predator who reacted to sudden movements. Alone in the square, away from the more bustling market street where most traveled through, Penelope had to make sure she didn¡¯t get into trouble. A man, tall and broad shouldered, came hunkering towards her, every heavy step followed by the clanking of metal. On his back was a large blade, something easily as big as Penelope¡¯s own body and on a quick glance, she could see he had another weapon sitting at his hip. Wearing dark, rough armor, the stranger was a hulk of a man with an intimidating air. As far as she could tell, this was not a guardsman, as none of them ever wore heavy armor like this nor looked so rugged. This was a warrior. And he was coming straight to her. Penelope was trembling, because she had no idea why he seemed so cross with her. She hadn¡¯t done anything, so why¡­? ¡°Answer me girl, what are you doing all alone here?¡± he asked, standing right in front of her. Penelope said nothing and he barked again, ¡°Look me in the eye and tell me your purpose here.¡± He was so tall, Penelope needed to crane her neck back to meet his gaze. His eyes, like dark glass orbs, seemed to be thundering as he looked down his nose at her. Honestly, the urge to run was amplified just looking directly at his humourless face. What the Hell? I didn¡¯t do anything wrong. Why is this big oaf picking on me?! Came the indignant thoughts. The guy looked like he could break a person in two just from breathing on them and she did not want him to suddenly attack her, but she also felt she was in the right to feel mad about being unjustly accused. So, she had two choices, stay here and deal with him directly, or leave. Walk off. Like a boss. Because if he had an issue it should not be on her to have to try and deal with it. Yes, that¡¯s right. This guy had no reason to be accusing her of anything, so who cares if she just walked away from him? Meaning to turn around and swan away, unbothered. However, she couldn¡¯t help the self preservation scurry when he shouted at her once more with a sharp ¡°HEY!¡±. Penelope ran off with him calling after her, hurrying along and not looking back. Especially as she heard the telltale clunk-clunk-clunk behind her. Seriously? Really picking up her feet, Penelope booked it as fast as her legs could carry her, balking when the heavy steps of this strange warrior continued to dog her relentlessly. ¡°I¡¯m talking to you!¡± he bellowed behind her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk to you!¡± Stranger danger! No normal man just chases after little girls like this! What if he really was some kind of predator after all? Then she was in trouble! He was fast. Keeping the bare minimum on where he was behind her, Penelope ran through the streets, vaguely reminded of how she ran through the town in her pursuit of Velma¡¯s picture phantom. The illusory form of her being taken quickly through a variety of back alleys, in order to confuse any possible pursuers. Again, as it had happened last time, she could feel her lungs start to burn and her sides ache as she kept up this punishing pace. That man would catch up to her, if she didn¡¯t do something. Penelope wracked her mind. Anything would do, even if the idea was completely stupid¨C And just like that, she had a flash of inspiration. Sometimes the solutions were really just so simple. And, perhaps, just a little stupid. She just needed to last a little longer. Using her smaller size, she bobbed and weaved through smaller areas where someone of such a hulking form would have trouble getting through without needing to bulldoze through everything. Her hands were working their way through her ever present satchel, grabbing what she needed as she ran. A turn. Another turn. And yet another again. Winding through as many times as she could until her pursuer couldn¡¯t not be spotted and thus, could not see what trickery she was up to in order to evade him. When he would turn the corner to come upon the runaway artist, he would find himself face to face with a dead end. CHAPTER 17 - The Artist is Meets the Knight The warrior stared dumbfounded. He looked left and right, expression twisted into a grimace. His breath was slightly labored, most likely due to how long and fast he had given chase to the girl at the square. He stood there for the longest time, just staring at the wall in front of him, regaining his lost breath. On the other side of the ¡®wall¡¯, Penelope was just a few feet away, hands clamped over her own mouth as she fought not to breathe too loudly. The aim was to stay as still and silent as possible, while she watched this stranger standing on the other side of this false alleyway wall, just steps away from his prey. Penelope, in her haste to somehow escape the situation she had been in, used her special ability ¨C whenever she drew something, it became real! It was a skill she was very glad for, even if there were drawbacks. It was quite something, trying to draw while also running for her life. The wall she had envisioned into paper was not at all perfect, but considering where they were and the adrenaline filled state they were both in, she hoped he would overlook the shoddy construction of the wall she created between them. Add in the amount of concentrated intent she put into the drawing to become something akin to a one way mirror, Penelope was feeling supremely lucky she had put this up as fast as she had. Truly, this was something out of a Western cartoon, where some odd animated rabbit would escape through the silliest of shenanigans. Now that he was here, she felt very stupid for the solution she came up with. Don¡¯t touch the wall, don¡¯t touch the wall. She thought this over and over as a frantic mantra in her mind. Due to how fast she had made it, it was certain that the wall would not hold up to intense scrutiny or investigation. It could crumble if he touched it. The moments passed very slowly, one after the other as Penelope held her breath, just agonizingly waiting for him to go. And after what seemed like an eternity, he did leave, stomping away back where they had come from. Penelope counted to ten, before allowing a slow, quiet, shaky breath to leave her (experience said never let your guard down around a dangerous man, even if it seems safe). And she counted to one hundred (slowly) before she allowed herself to leave the alley she had hid herself inside, pushing the fake wall and peering around the corner to check if he had been waiting for her. Nobody to be found. Penelope slumped against a building and slid down in relief. That was scary, what the Hell¡­the one time I decide to go outside on my own and I get chased by some weirdo in armor. After ten minutes, the fake alley wall she made disintegrated back into nothingness and Penelope could safely leave and be on her way. Considering the way she got in, Penelope was turned around a few times before she made it back out. It was like going through a maze. Sure that she had already left a spot, she felt like she had circled around and wound up at the same place as before several times. It didn''t help that everything looked the same in the back, compared to the front facing part of the buildings.They all blended together until she had no choice, but to mark her way out. Crouching down, she made a mark on the ground, a simple arrow pointing the way with the word ¡®EXIT¡¯ next to it using a piece of charcoal. Whenever she wound up at the same place again, she would erase the arrow there with some water from her waterskin and then choose a different route. Of course, that meant she left other arrows behind that made the previous root, but if she never went back, it wouldn''t be a problem, right¨¦ And Ceralde saw enough rain that whatever she drew would be erased eventually. However, with this method, she slowly made her way out of the maze that were the back alleys of Ceralde and by the time she found her way again, hours had passed with her puzzling out her way home. How embarrassing. Tomorrow I¡¯ll go out again, she told herself. It was unacceptable that she had gotten lost so easily and lost hours out of her day. She would commit to memory as many of the streets and paths of this town, if it was the last thing she did. For now, she was tired from being on her feet all day and just wanted to go home and fall straight into bed. Crime never rests. That was as true a statement as one could make. No matter where one went, a crime was being committed, big or small. In a port town like Ceralde, it was almost expected, considering how many people went in and out. It was nigh impossible to keep track of everyone¡¯s movements without the use of magic. For those who required secrecy, paths unseen and unused by the masses were the best. Slipping into the alleyways of a town or city gave one much privacy and cover, and if one knew the way well enough, could use the winding back streets to their advantage to lose tails. But that was the key point here: if one knew the way. A stranger to town would find themselves getting lost, if they chanced a run through unfamiliar labyrinthian streets. Members of the temple of Tulilith were sent to Ceralde in the dead of the night, members gifted at Unnatural Magic and devoted to the mission given to them. With just the light of the moon, they secreted their way into town, making sure not to draw anyone¡¯s gaze were they to come across someone¡­which was decidedly difficult. Whenever a guardsman spotted them, they were quickly ejected from town. Much nicer than if Minerva Riverthorn had found them, but still, having to constantly renew their efforts could try even the most patient of saints. There had to be a way for them to get to their proposed rendez-vous point with their contacts within the port town without getting spotted and thrown out. The group of priests looked at a map they had been given, figuring out a new route. There were many opinions about how they would try their latest attempt to get inside, however, they eventually agreed the best way was to enter the back alley labyrinth. As long as they paid attention to where they needed to go, then they should make it to the town center. And so the group of clergy re-entered Ceralde, under the cover of night, through a small alley that spread out into the rest of town. Now, it was all well and good to make their plans, looking at a top down map of a location. A great idea. Wonderful planning. However, it was another thing to actually implement that plan in real life. With how dark it was, every wall and corner blended into one another, making it difficult to tell which fork they needed to take. As they had been travelling for a long time and wasted so much time being thrown out and sneaking their way back in, they had little energy and, thus, little patience and wished to get the infiltration out of the way. It did not help that there was no set leader in the group, so they often butted heads, proclaiming one was more righteous in their actions than the others. So out of their minds with fatigued, frustrated with each other, the arrows on the ground when they stumbled upon them seemed like a divine sign that would help them out. No one, in the days to come, could ever figure out the train of thought these priests had when deciding to follow some strange markings left by only Tulilith knew who. Not even themselves. The three of them, of differing opinions, choose three separate arrows, following the one they had chosen, declaring their choice the right one. Due to Penelope taking the most roundabout path, erasing arrows that didn¡¯t work while leaving behind others, made each path disjointed, incomprehensive and misleading. If one did not follow the same method she had done to make her path, then it would only be right that they would only lose themselves deeper into the back alleys. Further and further into the depths, filled by the cheerful arrows marked as ¡®EXIT¡¯. The priests were stuck in there for hours, getting nowhere fast. They toppled eventually, due to a lack of energy from forcing themselves forward. The men all passed out in various parts of town, not waking until hours later, when the locals found them and reported them to the guards. They had explained what they had been doing and why they were where they were, though everyone who heard them were quite incredulous. A passing shower had moved through the port town before dissipating when it reached the sea. Though it had been nothing more than a five minute drizzle, it had been enough to wash away all evidence left behind by the young girl who had originally set them earlier the previous day. All traces were gone. The men had all insisted on it, despite the folly of the whole affair and the fact they were not permitted to enter Ceralde in the first place. Like every other time, the priests were escorted out, though they were this time soaked, exhausted and feeling humiliated. As this was not their first time trespassing in the last 24 hours, Minerva Riverthorn was summoned. Considering the hour and the propensity of the woman being none too gentle whenever she saw members of the kingdom¡¯s clergy, she did not seem at all happy to see not one, but a group of the priests from her mortal enemies. She sent them flying, yelling that they were not welcome and to never come back. And Penelope was none the wiser of any of these happenings. Standing on a stool while she made breakfast on the stove, the girl was blissfully unaware of what had transpired thanks to her indirect involvement. The only part that she had been partially involved in was when someone knocked at the door early in the morning and she saw a guardsman asking her kindly to go get Minerva. Penelope had done as asked, fetching the mage who looked unhappy to be woken up ¡®during a time where only worms and birds mingled¡¯. The girl had gone back to preparing breakfast, barely registering any words exchanged before hearing the door close. Time passed peacefully within the shop as food was being cooked and the rest of the residents began to slowly pull themselves from sleep. It was only after plating everything for everyone, Yule coming down and Cynthia crawling to her seat with a canine yawn, did Minerva return. She looked rightfully bedraggled and harangued, her hair in disarray as she had not had the time to brush it out and put it up. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. As the mage sat down at her spot next to her partner, Penelope came over with a mug of heavily steeped tea; two sugars and a drop of milk. Just how the older woman liked it. Seeing it, Minerva let out a small cry and threw her arms around Penelope, surprising her with how passionately she embraced the girl. ¡°You¡¯re such a good girl!¡± Minerva cooed, almost sounding like she wanted to weep. ¡±Moments like this make everything worth it.¡± ¡°Ah, there, there?¡± Penelope said, unsure what else to say. She awkwardly patted the woman¡¯s back, too. Sounded like she needed it. Must have been rough, whatever the guardsmen asked her to do this morning. She added, ¡°I got some eggs, so I made you an omelette.¡± ¡°You really are the best, Penelope. Never leave me.¡± ¡°Hey, hey, what are you saying with your partner nearby, huh?¡± Yule remarked as he was mid-chew of his food. Cynthia ignored what was going on, knowing it was just the beginning of another bickering session. Minerva gave her nephew a dirty look while still hanging onto Penelope. ¡°You will never be able to appreciate a girl as cute as Penelope is. Never.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?!¡± ¡°Boys will never understand!¡± Slipping out of the mage¡¯s arms, Penelope settled in for her own breakfast, shaking her head as the aunt and nephew duo settled in for their daily dose of arguing. It was pouring outside, dashing Penelope¡¯s idea to go exploring the town. There was a rumble of thunder and the occasional flash outside. When she woke up that morning, she had seen a bit of a drizzle, but who knew it would turn into a full on storm. Most likely foot traffic to the shop would lessen, with only those who had orders to pick up to make a break in the peace. She made plans to do some drawing, if there was not much to do in the shop. As Penelope was finishing up cleaning the dishes after breakfast, with Yule helping by drying them, she heard another knock at the door. Minerva, who was enjoying her second cup of tea that morning, groused about inconsiderate people visiting before shop hours. ¡°Goodness, so early in the morning...Penelope, dear, could you get the door?¡± the mage asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. Nodding, Penelope passed off the rest of the dishwashing to Yule and went to answer the door. There came a second, more insistent knock. ¡°Coming!¡± she called out, hurrying over to the door. Grabbing the doorknob, she swung open the door to welcome in their guest and froze. A flash of lightning illuminated the world beyond the door, creating a menacing silhouette of a wide bodied man in heavy armor, staring down at her in shadows. The only thing visible in that one moment were his eyes, which seemed to glow unnaturally in the lightning. Rain battered him, yet he remained unflinching as his whole body became soaked, just silently standing there while Penelope gaped up at him. She slammed the door shut in her shock. The noise caught the attention of everyone from the kitchen; Minerva poked her head from the back to see what was wrong. ¡°Is something the matter, Penelope, dear?¡± the older woman asked. ¡°S-scary armor man!¡± Penelope yelped, unable to properly form a sentence. The knocking began again, this time a loud and aggressive banging. On alert, Minerva went to answer the door in place of her charge, gesturing for her to get behind her. Squaring her shoulders, the older woman opened the door to see who could be on the other side. ¡°Minerva Riverthorn,¡± the man growled menacingly, just in time for another strike of lightning to crash in the sky. Penelope yelped from behind Minerva. Minerva, looking unimpressed, returned with a dry, ¡°Tristan Raubannes. To what do I owe the pleasure of having you darken my door?¡± ¡°I have come for Ulysses,¡± Tristan answered simply. His voice rumbled and his dark eyes never wavered from the mage¡¯s face. Meanwhile, the artist was wondering who this Ulysses was? ¡°Took you a while. Just what were you doing this whole time that had you leaving my nephew¨C¡± Penelope perked up at this. ¡°¨C by himself to make it to me?¡± Minerva spoke critically and firmly, standing tall when addressing this hulk of a man who seemed to be looking for Yule ¨C Ulysses? She supposed Yule was simply just a nickname, or maybe just a fake name altogether. But why give her that when they met? Why keep it up? Penelope knew there was a lot of trouble going on in the capital, where Yule had originally come from, but what required him to have to hide his actual first name from her? The man shifted a little, looking over Minerva¡¯s shoulder and saw Penelope just barely peeking at him. There was recognition in his eyes, but he said nothing about her for the moment, choosing to continue to speak with Minerva. ¡°Do you normally leave guests outside in the rain like this?¡± Tristan asked, frowning at the mage. Minerva waited a moment, giving the man who was a good head taller than her a hard stare. Testing his patience? But she eventually moved aside, letting him lumber into the main room of the shop to get out of the rain. As Minerva moved to lead them into the back, Penelope came into view. The two of them met each other¡¯s gazes, his expression blank and dark, while her own was nervous and wide eyed. The artist could feel herself shrinking, arms drawing themselves in and hunching just a little. She could only guess what was in his mind ¨C surely he had to be upset about what happened when he chased her all around Ceralde. ¡°U-um¡­¡± She tried to speak up, but nothing came out. Just what could she say? He moved again and she flinched, preparing to get yelled at (or worse), but he just slowly, slowly, got down on one knee in front of her. The creaking of his armor was some of the worst she had ever heard, comparable to old gears moving against each other. His gauntlet covered hand was offered out to her and he calmly said, ¡°My apologies for scaring you. My name is Tristan Raubannes. Do not fear me. I am not a bad guy.¡± The way he said it, seemed to be practiced, as if he had to explain himself a million times in the past. And the words he chose were simple and easy to convey with little misunderstanding, even if the air he gave off was definitely that of a ¡®bad guy¡¯. A fierce looking man like this definitely scared more than a few children in his life, probably a few adults, too. Gingerly, she put her hand into his and he was surprisingly gentle as he placed the other on top. ¡°I¡¯m¡­Penelope,¡± she supplied, feeling shy. ¡°Penelope Snowflower.¡± He nodded in acknowledgement. ¡°Well met, Penelope.¡± He let go of her hand and stood up to his full height once again, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. The artist stood there a little awkwardly though, not quite comfortable with him just yet. There was a question on her lips¡­ ¡°Um, how do you know Yule? Er¡­Ulysses?¡± ¡°I am his personal guard. We¡­unfortunately, we had to part ways for the sake of safety, but I have come to fulfill my duties to his family.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Penelope had never been told specifically, but she had an inkling he was not some normal kid. A noble¡¯s child would have a guard, too, right? It fit her mental image of Yule¡¯s true identity and why he had to leave. She supposed this was why he had to use a pseudonym. She had no idea where his family fell on the political scale and neither did he for her, so only fake names would be the safest bet for him, if he was on the run. ¡°Let¡¯s go, I¡¯m sure Yule will be waiting.¡± Tristan, Minerva and Yule were given some privacy to discuss things and this meant Cynthia and Penelope could not take part. Considering how rainy it was, neither wanted to be outside, so they went to their rooms while the others had their discussion. Penelope was intensely curious about what was going on in their talks, though. Now that Tristan, a trusted guard, was here, would they now be accommodating another person in their group? Or did this mean that Yule would be leaving them all? It only made sense that he should go back with those he belonged with originally. Penelope had no idea what was going on currently in the capital ¨C perhaps the knight was coming to bring him home because things calmed down? That thought made her chest hurt, but what could she do? She did wish he could stay, if it turned out Tristan was going to bring him home. Yule was her first real friend in forever and they were starting to get a little closer, however, being that she was truly not an actual ten year old child, Penelope understood what she wanted was not the same as what was good for her friend. She knew better than to be selfish and also to get too attached. Her mind went to her internet penpal from ages ago who stopped talking to her, who had once been there to let her vent and for them to vent back to¡­to lose someone dear like that was hard. Yes, she had to remind herself that she was here at the graces of strangers with no real connection to her. No one had mentioned what would happen when Yule¡¯s stay with his aunt would end (not if, when), so now that it might be coming sooner rather than later, Penelope needed to figure out her own situation. Was the amount she had enough to live off on for a few years until she was old enough to work properly? She had around a thousand Draks at the moment and from what she knew of daily life, if she was very stingy with her living expenses, it wouldn¡¯t last a full year. There was a lot for her to consider. Even if Yule did not leave and she could be allowed to stay, Penelope really shouldn¡¯t be relying on them so much. Everyone had been so kind, but she should begin standing on her own feet soon. She would have to discuss about her future with Minerva, considering she was the one who graciously allowed her to stay. There¡¯s also the reward money for all the missing girls. It¡¯s been over a week, so I guess we can check to see if they finished processing all of that paperwork Cynthia and I did. Depending on what she received after paying a percentage to her guardians, she may be able to launch herself into independence soon enough. This time she would not panic about it and face this head on. Being more clear headed about it, she had been given a chance in a new world. She should not be stagnating in place again, right? What would be the point if she just remained in one place. The idea of also leaving was scary, as she was comfortable here, surrounded by patient and kind people willing to explain things to her. However, she musn¡¯t be so timid. That was how she wound up facing so many hardships. Sitting in her shared room with Yule, she pulled out a piece of used paper and began making her life plan going forward. What had she missed out on in her old life? Dating for one, she thought, but that would be considered a bottom priority considering her physical age. It was still written into her life plan, but further at the bottom. She never moved out of her old home, so home ownership was important. However, to own a home, she needed a job. And to get a job, she needed marketable skills and right now she was good at domestic work and drawing. Seeing how her artistry made money but in random spurts, she figured cooking and cleaning will have to be her bread and butter once she was able to. Getting a membership into the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to be able to do odd jobs wouldn¡¯t hurt either, to get that little extra income. In the end, Penelope¡¯s life plan looked like this:
  1. Find cheap rental.
  2. Live frugally until 13.
  3. Get membership at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to create references.
  4. Get permanent job.
  5. Save up for home.
  6. Date someone.
  7. Enjoy life.
It didn¡¯t look like much, but it was a solid plan for her. Simple was best, after all. The plan had to be vague and flexible enough to account for anything that might turn up that could send everything in another direction. Things like ¡®have kids¡¯ and ¡®get married¡¯ were just part of the catch all of ¡®enjoy life¡¯, in case it was just not in the cards for her. ¡°Penelope!¡± It was Minerva. Her voice sounded far, so she must be calling from the kitchen. ¡°Could you come down to the kitchen, we need to talk to you.¡± That last part made her heart skip uncomfortably. Letting out a breath she thought ¡®Here we go¡¯ and put away her life plan, tucking it quickly under her pillow. ¡°Penelope!¡± Minerva called again. ¡°Coming!¡± the girl sounded back, now making her way quickly to meet with the others.