Episode 6. Dwarves and the Workshop
Originally, the plan had been to grab lunch and head straight back to the inn. Even as Horn raved about the lunch special and we dug in, declaring it delicious among ourselves, that's what I'd been thinking.
"Mmm~ So good! Ah, but you think it'll really wrap up in just an hour?"
That was Eileen, blurting it out of nowhere while scarfing down her food like a beggar who'd gone days without a meal.
"Uh... you don't think so?"
"Nope! Yum! Nom nom... Think about it—yesterday, as soon as old man Horn started talking, we were up till dawn, and... nom nom... Ah, this is delicious."
Ah, seriously. I had no idea why she made those weird noises every time she ate. Eileen was a noble lady from a prestigious family, but her table manners were downright bizarre.
"Finish eating first before you talk. Please, just finish."
"Even if you say that, I'm still a noble lady... nom. Telling me to stuff my face is a no-no!"
"And a noble lady wolfing it down like she hasn't eaten in three days is also a no-no."
Lady from a venerable earl's family—please, for your father's sake, have some dignity so he doesn't sigh in despair.
Anyway. Putting Eileen's manners aside, she had a point. An hour wasn't nearly enough to unpack centuries of reunion between those two dwarves. I'd skimmed dwarf traits before—not in depth, but I remembered hearing they loved to talk, and once they got started, it could go all night.
"Hm. If we just eat and bail, it might get awkward for them."
"True. So what do we do after lunch, Ain?"
What a pair of troublesome old folks. As I pondered how to kill time, Lady Lucia Whatever popped into my head.
"Oh, right—did you buy that gift for Lady Lucia?"
"No!"
"Haha... I forgot too, actually."
"Then let's go shopping for that first."
Lady Lucia Vicente Todorica Simeo wasn't traveling with us right now, but she'd been a comrade for nearly three years, sharing our goals. So yeah, whenever she crossed my mind, I wanted to send her something.
"Eileen, what about a gift for your parents?"
"Nope!"
"...Why are you so proud of not buying one?"
"Buy it for me!"
"..."
Looks like I'd need to pick out gifts for Lady Lucia and the earl on top of that.
And so, after lunch, we headed to the workshops to kill time.
"This! A fancy fan Lucia sis would love!"
"Ain oppa, I think Lucia unnie would like this too! It's a super flashy brooch!"
The kids, all excited, dashed into the workshops—dot dot dot—grabbing potential gifts and shoving them at me.
"Hmm... Engrave some decent magic on that, and it'd make a good gift."
She loved rescuing orphans, so a fan loaded with healing spells seemed perfect. I could picture her chanting "ohohot" while casting recovery magic—suited her to a T.
And just as I settled on the fan, Asha's hand thrust forward.
"I think this would be good."
"Hm? What's that, Asha?"
"Breast pads that aren't too obvious. Since that lady's flat-chested like Eileen, why not get a pair?"
What the hell. Why did this workshop have a cookie master and a padding expert?
"...Rejected."
"Hm, or since that lady has a solid-hip look like Eileen, hip pads wouldn't be bad."
Hey.
"Rejected."
"Or since she's got a flat butt like Eileen, butt pads as a gift."
Hey hey hey.
"...Asha, gifts aren't for hurting feelings."
"Hmm... I picked it because it seemed like what she needed most."
"But look at Eileen's face behind you. She's already crumbling."
At least glance at Eileen's teary face while you snipe with those pads in hand.
"...Ah. I didn't mean it like that, Eileen."
"Lady Asha... Anyone could tell you did."
"You're right, it was on purpose. Flat chest, flat butt, solid hips Eileen."
"Kwaaaah...!"
In the end, the fan with healing enchantments won for Lady Lucia. That's how we passed the time. Eileen, perked up again, picked an music box from the Orgel Workshop for her parents.
And in a world with magic, things were convenient. You could record a short voice message into the music box to send along—pretty neat feature.
"Hehe, I'm such a good daughter!"
Eileen beamed proudly, holding the music box with her recording.
"Guess they call a daughter who snuck out without permission for her trip a 'good daughter' these days. The world's really going to hell."
"Ugh... I'm a bad daughter..."
"There, now you get it."
I couldn't just let her spout nonsense like that—my inner Confucian wouldn't allow it.
Anyway, we mailed off the two gifts with letters to their respective addresses. That wrapped up everything at the workshops except the final repair on the ancient mana analyzer.
"...My money pouch is getting seriously light."
And the scraps left were going toward fetching that analyzer now. After repair fees, it'd be empty for real.
Looks like I'd need to take adventurer quests whenever time allowed to scrape by. Ever since hitting mid-rank adventurer, it'd been all spending, no earning.
As I sighed over it, Asha peeked over.
"Want me to give you the money I brought, Ain?"
"Nah. Like I said before, that's your earnings. Save it for when you really need it."
Money mattered a lot in life. Asha knew that now, yet she grinned like a kid and pulled out her pouch anyway.
"Like I told you back then, I earned it for you from the start."
"Still... taking it feels off."
She looked up with a sly smile, shaking the hefty pouch. It jingled temptingly.
"We can't leisurely earn money with paladins possibly chasing us, right, Ain?"
"...Fair point."
Unlike her kid days, Asha spoke well now. And yeah, we didn't have time for quests like she said. My conscience and her logic were at a standoff.
As I hesitated, she perked up with an idea, lips curving.
"If taking my money outright bothers you... how about you pay it back later?"
"Hmm..."
"No rush, Ain."
She grabbed my hand, plopping the heavy pouch into it.
"...Fine, I'll take it gratefully."
"Heehee, sure thing, Ain."
I nodded reluctantly and peeked inside. She'd barely touched her savings from childhood—huge sum.
No way I could repay this in a few years. People always said debt soured even close relationships.
Eh, but refusing now would be awkward too. I nodded.
"Uh... yeah. I'll make sure to pay it back fully."
"Of course. I'm lending it so you can. And you will pay it all back."
"...Uh, yeah. Sure."
Asha gazed at me intently. Her eyes, filled only with me, gleamed strangely.
"Aigoo...! We're doomed. That's straight-up trouble! Ain-nim's done for now... Mmph! Mmph!"
Behind us, Eileen muttered something before her mouth got covered again.
Of course. We'd arrived at the repair shop by then, so I pocketed the pouch without a fuss.
"Hello. Here for the mana analyzer we left for repair."
"Ah, you're here. Good news—it’s fixed."
"Oh, nice."
And luckily, the artisan plunked the ancient mana analyzer on the table, repaired.
Then he scratched his head and explained.
"But there's one issue."
"Issue?"
"Yeah. The engraved magic activates, but it only shows 'target not found.' Not sure if it's working right."
"Ah."
He sighed deeply, unsure because of the message.
"It didn't react to me, so I took it to every magic engraver I knew for analysis, but no dice."
"Hmm... I see."
I had a hunch why.
"It's a mana analyzer, so it should detect mages. If there was info on this Nasatya person, I could've guessed, but no luck. Sorry."
"No worries. We'll handle that. It's plenty as long as it runs."
His records were erased as an ancient arch-criminal, and the prophecy said to follow his traces for the gray—anyone not clueless could guess his intent.
"Alright. Not fully fixed, so I'll knock off some off the price."
"Appreciate it."
Even knowing the truth, I took the discount gratefully. No blowing through it and deepening the debt.
And.
"Tch."
Huh?
"...Asha?"
"Yes? Something to say, Ain?"
"Nah... just thought I heard you click your tongue."
It sure sounded like it from Asha behind me.
"Huh? Must've misheard. I was quiet."
"Guess so...?"
"Yep, Ain. You must be tired. Better rest at the inn."
Asha tilted her head innocently, eyes sparkling.
"It's obvious, it's—mmph!"
Eileen's muttering got muffled again, naturally.
We didn't get back till dinner was done and night fell.
The moment I opened the inn door, Horn—alone on the sofa—charged over, bellowing.
"You damn brat! I'm starving—why the hell are you back now?!"
"Huh? ...Why are you alone? Where's that Shillin dwarf?"
"We talked an hour and he left ages ago, you punk! Thought you'd be quick, waited since lunch—what the fuck, it's night! I'm hungry—food first!"
No way. I'd heard dwarves talked all day once started.
"We figured it'd drag on, so we ate dinner already...?"
"Holy shit... Hah, what the... Never seen such a punk..."
Horn gaped at me, huffing in disbelief.
"'Dwarves talk all day once they start'—"
"I've lived among humans 200 years, you idiot—what dwarf bullshit is that? I'm starving; you think I'd yap all day?!"
"..."
Hmm. Guess 200 years could change even a stubborn dwarf. I'd thought he was pure dwarf through and through, always ranting about "human scum."
I looked sheepish, but he grabbed my clothes and dragged me out.
"I'm hungry—follow."
"Why just me...? Ack."
"Don't wanna eat alone like a beggar—you eat an extra bowl with me."
"No...!"
What nonsense is that, old man? And so I got dragged to be his dinner buddy.
"...Unbelievable."
"This place's grub is the best. One more bowl before we head out again."
"Do what you want."
At least he wasn't forcing me to eat extra. I just watched him blankly.
After a few bites, Horn casually spoke.
"He said to come back to dwarf lands with him."
"...Pardon?"
Not casual at all, yet he said it breezily.
"Quit wandering, live with the clan now."
"That crazy old coot's trying to steal my companion...? Hm. But if the relocation pay's good, I'll think about it."
"Listen, you maniac."
"Pfft... Got it."
Horn's eyes gave it away anyway. Tough exterior, but soft-hearted—he couldn't chat this easy if it was goodbye.
"As you guessed, I refused. You swore to reignite my flame, brat. Won't split till I see it."
"Damn right. That's the deal."
See? Sticking around.
Obvious stuff. What came next? Not so much.
"He offered to support our trip then. Need ores or supplies? Send word to dwarf lands. Said if my journey ends quick, I'll return to the mountains sooner—laughed his ass off."
"Wha—huh?"
"Might as well hammer properly again. Not like old days, but enough to make real stuff."
I hadn't seen that coming—gaped. He smirked at my face.
"...Huh?"
"Done eating. Let's go."
Horn grinned at my stunned stare.
"Move it, brat. Busier from now on!"
Damn. Pretty cool expression. Way better than his old empty-eyed slump.
Cold, dried sweat drops that no longer flowed.
The faint flame of an aged dwarf.
Weak, shabby strikes.
A rusted hammer, a shattered anvil.
At the end of over 200 sorrow-tainted years, all that remained were such pitiful things.
Just an old dwarf awaiting death.
The words of one who'd lost everything.
The end of one who desired nothing new.
It was simply a tale that would end that way.
A journey's greatness comes from its end, perhaps.
But that end would hardly be great.
Thus.
The steps of the old dwarf setting forth once more are sure to be grand.