Good Deeds Bring Good Fortune
Doing a good deed for the runaway young lady had brought me fortune, just as the ancient sages promised. Not a single word from them was ever wrong.
"Nom nom... Yeah, this is it!"
Biting into the thick chicken skewer filled my mouth with savory meat juices, making my body squirm in delight. How long had it been since I'd last had meat? At least in this lifetime, I couldn't remember eating any. Wait, no—scratch that. I had eaten some the day before yesterday. Sure, it was just a rat pup I'd caught in the stables and roasted, but meat was meat.
"Aren, is it good?"
"Hell yeah, it is. Hey, Roze Tail, you eat up too. Big bites."
"Uh, okay."
At my enthusiastic urging, she shoved a chunk into her mouth like she was being pushed into it.
"Ah...!"
She let out an exclamation right away, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the skewer. As expected of a noble's daughter—she probably hadn't had much street food like this.
"So, how is it? Good, right?"
"Yeah!"
Her reaction was so fun that I waggled my eyebrows as I asked, and she fired back with an energetic reply.
As we chatted while walking, the chicken on the skewers vanished like melting snow. With a flick, I tossed the lonely leftover sticks into a roadside trash bin and patted my full belly in satisfaction.
Oh, right—I'd forgotten to say thanks. It had been ages since my benefactor had gifted me daily bread like this.
"Thanks, Roze Tail. Thanks to you, I finally got a proper meal after so long."
"You can call me by name."
"Cool. Tiabel it is, then."
Letting a stranger use her first name right off the bat—she must be pretty sociable.
"If it weren't for you, Aren, those punks would've taken my money too. But seriously, when was the last time you ate?"
"Hmm... The day before yesterday, I roasted a rat from the stables, so about two days ago?"
"That doesn't count as a meal..."
She looked like she had a lot to say but averted her gaze, deciding not to. Rat meat was a feast by my standards, though. Tch, this is why sheltered noble ladies are no good.
"You were so cool back there, Aren. Standing up to those girls like that, even though you're a boy."
Tiabel, having finished her own skewer, approached me. Her striking amber eyes sparkled, making her look downright pretty.
"Uh, yeah... I pack a punch."
That line felt awkward as hell coming from me, but whatever.
"I'm jealous, Aren. I'm a girl, but I'm not cool like you."
"Jealous? The other kids were too busy trash-talking me. 'What kind of guy acts so rough?'"
Her voice was full of admiration, but it made me grimace and shudder reflexively. Sure, now that I was big enough that no one from the brothel alleys messed with me anymore, it was fine. But back when I was eight or nine, the girls around me had teased me endlessly. Naturally, I'd given them all a proper lesson.
"Really? I think you're plenty cool. Way cooler than me, at least."
"Why? You seem fine to me."
She mumbled while kicking a pebble at her feet, head down. It struck me as odd. Sure, it was ridiculous to judge someone I'd just met as "fine," but she didn't seem bad at all. A baron's daughter who didn't lord her status over a brothel rat like me? That said good character right there.
"Truth is, my family's a knightly house for generations. My mom's an amazing knight, but I can't even handle a sword properly, and I'm weak. So I get scolded all the time."
"Hmm."
"That's why I had a huge fight with her yesterday. I want to be a Spirit Mage, but she wants me to be a knight. That's why I ran away."
Ah, so that's it. Just your typical parent-child spat. I'd seen plenty in my past life too—like the kid born to a hospital director grandpa and doctor dad, dreaming of being a teacher but too scared to say it.
"I see."
It was more serious than I'd thought, so I scratched my head awkwardly. I could guess the situation, but I wasn't the type to butt into family matters with unsolicited advice. Still, seeing her trail behind me with her head down, my mouth moved on its own.
"Well, your parents probably have their reasons too. Duties or responsibilities I don't know about. Family stuff isn't for outsiders to meddle in."
I started there and met her eyes as she looked up.
"But you ran away because you didn't want to do it, right?"
She nodded slowly, eyes wide at my point.
"Have you ever really talked to your parents about what you want? Not casually—seriously."
She shook her head. Yeah, figures. Kids this age don't stand up to parental authority easily. But that's no way to change anything.
"Then it's just running away. Avoiding the problem head-on."
"......"
"Deep down, you already know what you want to do. Whether it's guilt over betraying their expectations, fear of change, whatever—it's you tying yourself down."
I stepped closer as her pupils wavered. I didn't even notice my voice rising a bit.
"But listen—do your parents live your life for you? No, it's yours. Do you want this? Are you sure? Then do it. That's the right path."
"Ah..."
"But don't run. Face them properly, win or lose. Appeal to their emotions, argue it out. Clash heads. It might work out better than you think."
After rattling that off like some know-it-all, embarrassment hit me, and I grinned sheepishly.
"Just the ramblings of a nobody, so take it with a grain of salt."
I had no right to meddle in her family affairs after meeting today. But seeing this girl—who should be dreaming big—slumped like it was all her fault fired me up, and I'd raised my voice in frustration. I worried I'd been too harsh, but it seemed like words she'd been hoping to hear.
"Thanks, Aren. You're the first one to say that."
Her beaming smile made me grin back.
"No biggie. Gotta earn my skewer money. When you're a great Spirit Mage, buy me more."
"Yeah, I will."
If she became a big-shot Spirit Mage, she could probably gift me a whole skewer shop. Might as well lock in that verbal promise as an investment.
"Huh...?"
We'd nearly reached the village exit when Roze Tail—Tiabel—froze and started patting herself down frantically. Was she practicing mime? No, her pupils were shaking hard.
"What's wrong? Something happen?"
I asked casually, and she looked at me with trembling eyes. Her face had gone pale—something big had clearly gone down.
"Th-the pendant... it's gone."
"Pendant? Oh."
Right, back when those punks were shaking her down, she'd had a shiny one around her neck. She'd lost it?
"Wanna go back and check?"
If she'd dropped it in the scuffle, it might be in that alley. If we hurried, we might find it.
"N-no, it's fine. If I dropped it, someone's probably taken it by now..."
But she clearly didn't want to trouble me twice. She forced a smile, which just made me stubborn.
Time she learned to rely on people like a kid should.
I grabbed her wrist without warning, declaring no veto power.
"Just in case. Isn't it something precious from your mom?"
"H-how did you...?"
"You told those punks earlier. I've got good ears, y'know."
Back in the stables, I'd bolt at the faintest sound of the owner. Catching that was easy.
I flashed a grin at her surprised face and backtracked to that stinking brothel alley.
"You two, search that way! I'll check the main street!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Armed soldiers suddenly flooded the quiet Dunrea Village. At their center, a woman barked orders swiftly before dashing alone into the market streets.
"Isn't that Lady Roze Tail?"
"What's going on?"
"Dunno. Don't stare."
The silver eagle emblem on her right chest—sword in one talon, spear in the other—marked her clearly. Villagers averted their eyes, herded kids away, or took detours. Best not to get involved; it could only lead to hassle.
Tia, where did you go?
Camilla scoured the market for her missing daughter. When a servant reported Tia gone at dawn, her heart had nearly stopped. Hours of searching later, with no trace, it felt like her heart was burning away.
"Excuse me, have you seen a girl with pink hair around here? About this tall, wearing a sky-blue dress?"
"No, sorry..."
"Us neither..."
Grabbing passersby yielded nothing useful. As the sun began to set, despair crept onto Camilla's icy features, her face paling.
"Damn it...!"
She clenched her fist, grinding her teeth. Once the sun vanished, searching would be impossible. She'd give anything for Tia to pop out at the mansion saying, "Ta-da, gotcha!"—even if she'd have to scold her as a mother. Any ending beat losing her daughter forever.
"Hm...?"
As she regained composure to resume the hunt, she spotted a boy approaching. Ragged clothes, grimy body—he looked like a slum kid from the brothels or poor quarters.
Is that the pendant I gave Tia?
It gleamed in his hand, catching her eye.
"Hey, you there. What's that in your hand?"
"......?"
She grabbed the boy passing by and demanded answers. His gaze dropped to her chest emblem, then scanned her brazenly from head to toe, appraising her.
Offended, she raised her voice—
"Ah, Lady Tiabel's mother. N-no, Lady Roze Tail."
Unexpected words followed. He'd slipped on "mother," but she'd heard it clear.
Tiabel's mother?
This ragged boy knew her daughter's name—and intimately, at that.
No way.
Suspicion clouded Camilla's eyes. A boy with zero connection to her daughter, yet holding her name and pendant?
"What have you done to my daughter...!"
Killing intent surged, filling the air.
Shing.
Before the boy could explain, Camilla drew her sword.
"W-wait! There's a misunderstanding..."
He gestured for calm, bewilderment on his face, but she didn't stop. Her eyes chilled, ready to unleash fury—
Whoosh...
Mana?
Blue mana rose from the boy, making her eyes flash. This young kid, barely into puberty, emitting mana thick enough to see with the naked eye? What madness was this?
Stunned, she forgot to interrogate, staring blankly.
Then—
"Mom!"
"Tia...?!"
The familiar voice pierced her mind.
Clang!
Her sword hit the ground, but she didn't care. Far more important, her daughter rushed toward her.
Hug.
"Whew."
As the tearful mother-daughter reunion unfolded, a low sigh of relief—"Dodged a bullet"—came from the boy behind Camilla.