A day of rest and relaxation turns out to be surprisingly difficult. The actual activities aren’t too hard to find. Mom stumbled upon an advertisent for a local spa and it happens to actually be open this afternoon. This I find surprising, considering the spa has little to do with monsters and all the related industries that have sprung up in the wake of the world’s myriad changes.
No, the problem is that my [Mind] stat, even without Chloe’s boosts, is more than high enough for to constantly cycle through every contingency, and the experience of feeling so completely outmatched by Renault and the other Seraphina so harrowing, that my mind keeps racing back, reliving those monts. If their arrival was a re psychological gambit to win the battle before it even happens, then… Loath though I am to admit it, it’s working.
Then again, they did keep us alive, and I still don’t understand why. Whatever their true goals are, it’s sothing a lot more subtle than Daryl’s galomaniacal insistence that he sohow deserved to be so sort of ruler by virtue of possessing data that I very much still consider my own, not theirs to do with as they please.
“Miss Seraphina,” the masseuse says, snapping out of my spiraling thoughts. “Please close your eyes and relax. This may tickle a bit.”
She grabs my ankle with one hand and starts rubbing so sort of pumice stone along the ball of my left foot, which leads into the second, far less expected problem with our little spa outing. My body is reinforced by my [Vitality] to the point where many of the massage techniques used in these sorts of establishnts simply aren’t going to work on soone with a more human level of [Strength]. The poor woman with dark brown hair tries and tries, but her pumice stone ends up getting sanded off by the skin on my feet, instead of how it really ought to be.
But Chloe, it appears, is having it even worse.
“Miss Chloe,” the other worker tending to us says. “There seems to be a very unusual problem with your pedicure.” She pauses for several seconds, stamring, “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I’ve been trying to sand off your callouses for the last five minutes, and, well. I’m able to remove the topmost layer of skin, but as soon as I do that, it starts, and I kid you not, flying back up into the air and fusing back into your foot. You’ve got feeling like Sisyphus over here.”
Chloe blushes. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about that!” She hesitates for a mont. “Okay, yeah, I figured out how to turn off that Skill for a bit; can you give it another try?”
The young blonde does, and after a half minute of grimacing, finds that Chloe’s skin is coming off and actually staying off. The mood in the room visibly relaxes, right up until my attendant for the afternoon returns, this ti carrying a power sander and several sheets of sandpaper of a far coarser variety than the stone she was using before.
“Miss Seraphina,” she says with a small bow. “I apologize for the delay, but it took a bit of ti to speak with my boss and figure out how to open the storage closet. This machine and paper together are supposed to be hard and durable enough to blast down even solid steel. I hope this proves enough to provide. If not, I’m afraid we may need to see about processing a refund for this part of the package.”
It was. It definitely was. My feet have never felt so smooth as they do walking through the streets at dusk. After jerry-rigging a miniature jackhamr— goddesses only know why there was one of those on-site, my muscles are now feeling more relaxed than they have in days. I even got to do the cucumbers on the eyes thing they show on TV. Still not a fan of cucumber-infused water though; I’ll stick to the plain stuff, thank you very much.
The outdoor air, growing fresher and cleaner by the day, feels absolutely divine against my exfoliated skin. With every breath I take, I find myself able to just enjoy the sights and sounds of cars and pedestrians moving through the city streets. My phone remains blissfully away in my [Inventory], and whatever trouble is waiting for can kindly return to its seat and wait until morning when I will only then allow such bothers to ruin this state of zen I have cultivated.
“Alright,” Mom says once we’re on a patch of relatively flat, grassy land near to where the four of us landed this morning. “I guess I won’t be seeing much of you for the next few weeks. Everything should still be set up with automatic bill-pay, but you’ll be on your own for food and basic anities. Make sure you keep the house clean, wash the sheets at least once every couple of weeks… Every couple of days or so.
“And for the love of God, please make sure you have that noise suppression system turned on before you have your nightly fun, alright? The last thing I need while I’m gone is a call from the neighbors about how the two of you kept their dog barking until ass o’clock in the morning. Do I make myself clear, girls?”
“Yes, Mom,” we both say in our most sheepish and contrite voices.
She pulls us both into a three-person hug while Hank summons forth his helicopter and does whatever inspections he judges necessary.
“Alright, you two take care of yourselves. Chloe, make sure Sera doesn’t do anything too reckless while I’m gone.”
I start to express my indignation before ultimately relenting. Yes, I absolutely would do sothing reckless while she is gone. Then again, little does Mom know that Chloe has beco a lot more brazen in recent days and would have no problem being every bit as ‘reckless’, to use her words, as I am. For my sake as much as Chloe’s, I decline to bring that up, instead accepting the admonition without verbal complaint.
“I will, Mom,” Chloe says, playing up the role of angelic goodie two-shoes. She shoots a sly smile while Mom’s back is turned.
“Alright, Sera, Chloe,” Hank says. “I trust that the two of you can take care of yourselves without Leece keeping a constant eye on you?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” I say. “We can take care of each other. I promise.”
“I know. I won’t try to tell you to stay out of danger,” Hank continues. “But please promise that you will manage the risk accordingly. A lot of lives are going to depend on the actions that the two of you take in the coming days and weeks.”
Chloe is about to affirm Hank’s request, but this ti Mom chis in with The Look, one so potent that Hank recoils from the gaze.
“Honey,” she says in that displeased tone.
Hank too tries to protest, but just like with my earlier indignation, is ultimately forced to accede to Mom’s words without so much as a word in his defense. He just sighs. “Well, the two of us will be off. I’ll see you the evening of the equinox. Until then, you both be good, alright?”
“Alright,” we both say.
And with that, Mom and Hank say their final goodbyes to us, and, a few minutes later, are off. The two of us rest in each other’s arms, watching as their copter flies off, all the way until it’s little more than a twinkle in the romantic night sky. It’s so tempting to take so ti right then and there to make out with Chloe— maybe go a little further than making out, if no one is around— but work and decency both call. I bet Jirel is just about done with our gear, and I eagerly anticipate seeing what he’s co up with today.
We find our way escorted back to the back showroom like so sort of VIP clients when we arrive back at the emporium. Considering we’re about to funnel six-figures worth of funds to their organization for less than a day’s work from the big man, I can understand the sudden change in deanor.
The trigger-happy guard from before, I think his na was Kevin or sothing, seems to be off-shift, replaced with another man who’s completely nondescript. Not just in the sense of being ordinary looking, wearing plain clothes and having no defined features. No, this man seems to have so sort of anti-perception Skill much like how Hank distorts my vision. Except, while I can see him just fine, my mind doesn’t want to register anything about his actual appearance. Even looking at him, as soon as I avert my gaze or so much as blink, I’m quite confident in my inability to pick him out of a lineup.
We’re not made to wait long. Just a minute or two after we step into the now nearly-empty showroom, Jirel erges. He looks fatigued, still covered in sweat and slling every bit the sort, but he looks elated and very proud of his work. And I can just sense the quality of the craftsmanship oozing off the three pieces— technically four, considering the twinned blades for Chloe— he’s carted out for us.
“Well,” he says with heavy breath. “These just might be so of my finest pieces of work, and before I even show them to you in detail, I want to say that I appreciate your patronage. I managed to get a full level and a half out of these, which, given I’m almost to level 64 myself, well, those don’t co nearly as easy as they did back at level 1, I’ll tell you that much for sure! I’ve got to wonder if maybe the System doesn’t see sothing in the two of you.”
I chuckle at that. If only he knew the truth of it all. Chloe, anwhile, is unaware of the conversation. Her eyes are fully agape, her entire being srized by the beauty of those golden blades shining out of their steel-carapaced scabbards.
“First, we’ve got Miss Chloe’s weapons. If you’ll indulge my curiosity, where did you find the auracite? It’s not a particularly common tal even now, and moreover, these chunks you’ve brought are quite pure. A lot better than the low-grade ore I’ve seen in this shop until now.”
“A dungeon. Well-hidden within the dungeon at that. And not a local one, so please don’t ask further.”
“Of course, of course. I do try to keep my custors’ discretion at the forefront of my business. It’s good for remaining in business.” He adds in a knowing look.
“Moving on, Seraphina, we’ve got your armor, made of Shadow Tortoise Shell, at least that’s what my [Identify] Skill pegs it as.” Because of course he has one of those too. Seems like I’m about the only one who doesn’t, though my [Artificer’s Glasses] help to an extent. “Should give you a good chunk of physical defense. And I had so leftover [Tenebrous Steel] from a previous project that I used for the fastening. Just felt right to do so; it’ll help draw out the natural shadow properties of the armor and give you so additional resistance to [Light]-elent attacks.”
“Perfect,” I say. And better than I could have hoped for. It’s almost as though he knew what I’d need for the fights ahead without even needing to ask.
“Chloe’s [Auracite Blades]. I don’t know why, but when I finished forging them, nas just ca to . [Lun] is the slightly-larger of the two, while the thinner blade is called [Aria].”
A little on the nose, but if that’s what he feels they should be called, I’m not going to argue.
Chloe takes them both, as well as the fitted scabbard-belt he’s provided and ties the latter around her waist. Once her weapons are at her side, she unsheathes them and stares at their edges, admiring the keenness and sharpness of her new weapons both. [Lun] asures thirty-nine inches from hilt to tip, while [Aria] asures thirty-seven. Both have an eight-inch hilt, [Lun] having a small handguard while [Aria]’s is simple and cruciform.
“Incredible,” Chloe says.
“Please don’t test them out in here. I beg you,” Jirel says. The way he says it with such deference tells all I need to know about the power he’s been able to draw out of the ore.
“And finally, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that golem heart. My first thought was to try to build so sort of accessory out of it, to draw out the latent power of [Fire] stored within it, but it was far too large for that. Then I considered slting it down, but, well, that latent power of [Fire] ant it only glowed brighter. So eventually, I decided that rather than try to forge it, exactly, I’d hamr it into sothing worthwhile, and as I did, it started taking the shape of a knight’s helt.”
“Forgive for what may be a rude question,” I begin, “but it sounds to like these items had sothing in mind for what they wanted to be. Is that the case?”
“Sothing I’m still trying to understand myself,” Jirel says. “I’ve been a blacksmith for what… almost twenty-five years now. Wasn’t the greatest in school, preferred to work with my hands instead of my books. Fortunately, there are enough people interested in buying such pieces to run a small business, either those who just liked the look of a forged sword or were interested in renaissance and dieval faires and so forth. You’d be surprised at how much so of those folks would pay for a good-looking piece that was forged in a reasonably authentic style.”
Jirel shakes his head. “I’m getting a bit carried away, ladies; please forgive . Anyway, when the System arrived, I just decided I’d continue doing what I’ve been doing all my life and one thing led to another and now I’m here. And you’re right about that. Steel allows itself to be shaped, but these new materials that have shown up with nas right out of a fantasy novel, stuff like [Celesteel] and [Auracite] and [Electrum] and even [Orichalcum]. Well, they all seem to have a certain will of their own. They want to be shaped in certain ways, and it’s a lot easier to just guide the materials and help them beco what they want to beco rather than try to force them to be sothing they don’t want to be. Maybe it’s the sa way for what the System is doing for us.”
“Maybe so,” I say. I could tell him otherwise about the System, but, there’s no good to co from that. If this is what gives him purpose, and it seems he’s managed to use his station for the good of those who work and associate in the area, in his own way, then why would I take that from him.
“Maybe so,” Jirel says with a solemn nod. “I understand you’ve already paid and while I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve gotta close up shop and then get ho to my wife before she wonders why I’ve been out for so long and… I think that’s enough outta , don’tcha think?”
I chuckle nervously. “I don’t know if we’ll be back in town, but if so, we might just have to commission you yet again.”
Chloe puts the [Flaheart Helm] on and resheathes her weapons. “Thanks for everything, Jirel. I really appreciate it.”
“And you two as well,” Jirel says.
User Comments
0 comments from readers