by Kumo Kagyu
Too eager?
She felt her own cheeks flush. She hadn’t yet been able to put that name to the feeling in her heart.
“’Scuse me.”
It was at that moment when the door clattered open, and somebody sidled up toward the counter at a walking pace.
Guild Girl blinked.
A grimy robe was hiding the person’s face, and they gave off a strange aura, as if somehow removed from the scene around them.
“There’s a little something I’d like to ask for. Something I might need soon.”
When Arc Mage said this to her, Guild Girl discovered she could only nod and reply “Yes?”
“I’m going out.”
“Oh, okay…”
Cow Girl kept herself from asking Already? as she watched him walk out into the predawn gloom.
No conversation, again. No breakfast, again. And of course, no dinner the night before.
I’m glad he’s started coming home, but…
Cow Girl let out a melancholy sigh and leaned across the table, her great chest pressing into it. He sometimes slept in his room now. She sensed it wasn’t quite the same as when they had just been reunited. But still…
Maybe I’m only bothering him, pushing things on him like this.
She couldn’t stop the thought from crossing her mind.
Something was strange, there was no question. Something crucial—he had done more than simply become an adventurer, she suspected.
Cow Girl went to the Guild sometimes herself. So she heard the things people said.
Goblin Slayer. The one who kills goblins.
Why? She hardly had to ask.
What she wanted to know instead was, what could she do for him?
She remembered riding in that carriage as she left the village, looking back. The evening before, she had argued with him, making him cry, crying herself.
The faces of her mother and father were already painfully blurry in her mind.
She remembered the empty coffins they had buried.
In the midst of all these reminiscences, one thing she had no memories of was her village, ravaged by goblins.
No memories at all.
Instead there was just a blank space, like the spot on the beach where a sandcastle she had worked hard to build had been washed away.
“………Sigh.”
Was she just butting in?
Cow Girl let her head roll to one side, taking in the kitchen. There was a pot full of stew, waiting to grow warm.
That time, the time when he had come home practically in tatters, she thought he had eaten it politely.
But maybe she had just imagined it. Maybe it was just what she had wanted to see.
“…Guess I don’t know.”
Not about him. Not about adventuring.
Dawn broke as she sat thinking these thoughts. The light grew brighter outside. Soon her uncle would be awake.
“…Gotta get Uncle’s breakfast ready.”
“Perhaps he has a lover somewhere. Or finding companionship among the whores wouldn’t be out of the—”
“……!”
At the memory of her uncle’s words, she sat up fast enough to rattle the table.
Her face was hot. So hot. She must be bright red. Cow Girl quickly shook her head.
“I th-think I’ll go wash my face…!”
She ran out the door, face still burning, and then—
“…Huh?”
She stopped at an unexpected sight. The fence, the one she had told herself she had better fix, had a hasty patch on it.
“…?”
Cow Girl thought about it for a moment, came to the conclusion that her uncle must have fixed it, then continued running to the well.
§
There was the little house, standing just where it always was. The waterwheel creaked along, and smoke puffed from the chimney. A small place.
Morning mist, the color of milk, floated around as Goblin Slayer strode boldly up to the door. He gave a few solid raps of the knocker and was met by a voice that called “Come on in.”
He opened the door and entered the room made dim by towers of books. He worked his way through the space, careful not to topple the piles of stuff that looked to him like junk, but whose purpose he didn’t know.
“Hey, sorry. Little busy here.”
In the very back of the veritable cavern, Arc Mage sat working industriously at her desk. Her fingers moved the cards quick as magic, the little slips becoming blurs as if she were performing sleight of hand.
“I brought cider.”
“Great. Just leave it over there somewhere.”
She didn’t even look in his direction; Goblin Slayer obediently put the bottle down in an arbitrary spot.
Several empty bottles rolled at his feet, a sweet aroma drifting up from them. A mingling of apples and herbs—her smell.
“Also, I have the item you requested.” Goblin Slayer dug in his item pouch, producing a small hempen bag. Its mouth was cinched tightly shut, but even so, a faint unpleasant odor drifted through the room. To be fair, that might have had something to do with the grime that was covering him…
“Goblin droppings.”
“Great. Just leave it over there somewhere.”
She sounded totally disinterested, but it didn’t seem to bother him; he simply nodded and set the pouch down in an arbitrary spot.
For the past several days, it had been the same routine.
Goblins were not to be afforded many pages in the Monster Manual. But that, according to Arc Mage, didn’t excuse them from doing their research before writing. So he would collect some goblin-related item and deliver it to her. Then he would receive a reward.
No matter where he put it down, the next time he visited, the item was always gone. None of this was any problem in his mind.
“My reward?”
“Ahh, right. Good point.”
An ambiguous response. Goblin Slayer waited patiently for the next words. He looked at her small back for a few moments, and then finally she said, “Ah,” as if just remembering. “There’s some scrolls over there. You can take one.”
She sounded as if she were foisting something on him that she didn’t need, but he simply replied, “All right.”
He looked “over there” as he’d been instructed, and indeed, there was a collection of neatly rolled scrolls piled together.
“It doesn’t matter which I take?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Hmm,” he said and thought a moment, then grabbed the topmost scroll, so as not to disturb the pile.
The scroll seemed to be on sheepskin. It had a simple binding and was kept shut with a decorative cord tied in a strange sort of knot.
A magic scroll, presumably. This was the first time Goblin Slayer had ever seen one.
“What’s this?”
“Just ask some wizard in town what’s in it,” Arc Mage said, and then she seemed to forget about him entirely.
One after another, cards turned over, danced upon the tabletop, front and back changing position at dizzying speeds, until finally they were stacked up. On her flashing fingers shone the light of that ring. It still seemed to burn from within.
Goblin Slayer watched it for a moment, then told her he was leaving and exited the room.
Just as the door closed, he heard her say, “See you later.” It was just a politeness.
Most likely.
§
“…What, is it?”
Goblin Slayer was at the tavern; the curt question came at him from Witch. She was in a seat in one corner of the room, her staff leaning against the wall; she herself had her legs crossed regally, relaxing. She was eye-catching indeed, and other adventurers glanced their way periodically.
There must have been a great many adventurers who tried to talk to this rookie, a woman and a wizard who ran solo. But the gazes would avert again when they saw who was standing across from her: the man in the grimy armor.
&nb
sp; Witch played restlessly with her hair, hiding her eyes with the brim of her hat as she looked at him. “Another…identification…perhaps?”
“Yes.” Goblin Slayer nodded. Then, after a moment’s thought, he added, “Will you do it?”
“…Let’s, see.” A beautiful hand was already reaching out. Show me, it seemed to say.
Goblin Slayer took the scroll he had just received out of his bag and handed it to her.
“I suppose…this is, from her…?”
“It is.”
“Mm…” Witch nodded again, then turned the scroll in her palm a few times, after which she let out an impressed but still somehow lazy breath. “…That, woman. She’s strange…is she, not?”
Goblin Slayer didn’t answer. He didn’t know people well enough to say. Didn’t know her well enough.
So after another moment of thought, he said simply, “Is that so?” Witch nodded.
“Very…very…strange.”
She set the scroll on the tabletop and produced a long pipe from the folds of her robe. She struck a flint with an elegant motion of her hands, lighting the pipe.
“Those who can become…like her. They number very, few. Outside…the logic, of the world. It’s, very…scary there.” A cloying aroma drifted around her. “Because you never know… And, anyone who can, go…to see her…is impressive, indeed.”
Predictably, none of this made any sense to Goblin Slayer. “So what kind of scroll is it?”
“Heh, heh… This, see?” She gave the scroll a tap with the very tip of her finger. “It’s a Gate…scroll.”
“……Hmm.”
“A mulligan. That’s quite…a lucky find.”
This was a magic item in the truest sense: a version of the lost Gate spell that anyone could use. It didn’t matter if you were in the Dark Gods’ tower, or some great wizard’s underground labyrinth; you could escape in an instant. Just this scroll by itself could save your life. You could live to fight another day. The opportunity was worth thousands in gold. And even more so for a novice adventurer—use it or sell it, either way, the scroll was like a dream come true.
“…Is that so?”
Goblin Slayer didn’t seem to fully comprehend it. Witch whispered, “That’s, right,” then continued to weave her words together. “Write, a destination…and you can go, anywhere… Anywhere, in this world…at least.”
But it had to be used thoughtfully. A chuckle escaped Witch.
“If you…tried to go to some, ruins at the bottom…of the sea? It would go there…and the water would drown you or wash you away.”
Or, for example, you might jump through the Gate and be crushed to death…
This sort of conundrum was hardly unique to Gates. Anytime one used magic without thinking, it was tantamount to flirting with death. That was the real reason why it was said people without enough Intelligence couldn’t become wizards. The job demanded study and care. What cards you had to play, when you should play them, what would happen: one had to think about all these things, make predictions, and try to achieve a certain outcome.
There was an extreme view that claimed there was no truth at all in the Ivory Tower, the academy of the sages. Knowledge and experience were the two main ingredients of Intelligence. Neither could be missing for anyone possessing true brains. Thus, it only made sense that novice wizards would go out into the world seeking real experience.
They had to know. Everything. All of it. And so they went into places unknown. That was praiseworthy, not something to be mocked. At least in principle.
Goblin Slayer thought Witch might be one of these spell casters errant. But he didn’t know. He was not the kind to be interested in much of anyone’s life history.
“…So. What…will you do with it?”
“What will I do with it?” He hadn’t expected the question, and all he could do was parrot it back.
“The destination… You must write one, to be…able to use it, yes?” Witch’s eyes wavered. Her actual expression, though, was hidden under her hat.
“A destination…”
“Yes.” Witch puffed on her pipe, breathing out an aromatic haze that drifted around her. Then she spoke, her voice melodic, her words floating like the smoke through the air. “Someplace that is not here. Sometime that is not now. A last resort. A door for the going—or at, least, a simulacrum of one.”
Her words seemed to dance through space, disappearing along with the smoke.
“That’s, why…you must, write…a destination… See?”
“…” Goblin Slayer grunted softly. “I don’t know.”
“Mm…” Witch blinked, her long eyebrows fluttering. “Will you, sell it…?”
“I don’t know that, either,” Goblin Slayer said shortly, with a curt shake of his head.
“Think about it and decide.” Witch passed the scroll back to him politely. Goblin Slayer grasped it in his hand.
“I don’t have the ability to write a spell on a scroll.”
Perhaps he meant, Keep it for me.
Witch thought about it for a moment, then took the scroll back and stashed it amid her ample cleavage.
“Can I ask you to take on this request?”
“It will, take some, time. Maybe…just, some?”
“I see.”
“And now, I have…a date.”
“I see,” Goblin Slayer repeated, and then nodded. Then he counted out several gold pieces, payment in advance, and left the tavern behind.
§
“You,” said Guild Girl, an unnatural smile pasted on her face, “are considered an outstanding adventurer.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, everyone says you have big prospects for the future…”
“Well, now! Awesome…! I sure appreciate bein’ appreciated!”
“On that basis, there’s someone who says they would very much like to form a party with you.”
“Yeah? Who is it that wants to party up with the great and mighty—I mean, who wants to join my party?”
“A highly intelligent wizard who’s seen exactly how powerful you are. You remember the temporary party…”
“Ahh, that witch…!” The adventurer, lightly armored and carrying a spear on his back, recalled her immediately.
Guild Girl was privately relieved. Her cheek was twitching. She couldn’t let the smile down yet.
“What did you think of her? She was a good adventurer, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah, great!” Spearman said, puffing out his chest. “She seemed like a pretty capable spell caster to me!”
Guild Girl didn’t honestly know whether that was true or not. She had never seen an actual adventure with her own eyes. Her fights and adventures took place with a pen and paper.
And negotiations.
She worked hard to pull up her cheeks, which continued to twitch as she said, “What do you say, then? Would you be open to partying up with her again?”
“You can count on me! Heck, if I had a spell caster, I would be like a tiger with wings! I won’t let anyone down!” Spearman gave a broad grin and nodded vigorously, apparently happy to have been entrusted with this request.
He didn’t see the shadow of calculation. Guild Girl, for her part, said, “Thank you very much for handling this,” and bowed her head. She felt a little bad for him.
“Okay!” Spearman exclaimed. He gave one bow, then rushed off in a fit of excitement.
“Oh, I think she’s at the tavern!” Guild Girl called after him. Then she let out a sort of “Oof” noise and slid down onto the counter.
She hadn’t lied to him. Everything she’d said had been true.
Spearman did indeed have a favorable reputation. And there was no question that he was capable. That Witch wanted to work with him was a fact, too. Facts all.
She found herself rubbing at her own cheeks. Having to pretend to smile all the time was so tiring. Spearman was one thing, but there were so many flippant young adventurers who were all talk. They focused on rais
ing people’s impressions of them, while avoiding responsibility and real work, always looking for the easiest ways to turn a profit.
Everyone had that side to them; she couldn’t condemn them for it. They were free to think that was good and fine, but…
I’m free not to like them very much for it, too.
At least that spear-wielding adventurer had a few achievements to his name. If he hadn’t, she would never have gone to this sort of trouble for him.
“Tired?”
“Yeah…”
Her colleague smiled sympathetically from the next chair.
“Well, adventuring attracts all types. Try not to worry too much about it, okay?”
“I know that… I do.”
In the end, work is work, her colleague reminded her. Wonderful adventurers, despicable adventurers—they would all die someday. The gods’ dice treated all fairly and equally; thus, individual effort or lack thereof could affect the possibilities.
All the more reason it was better not to be involved with anyone except when called upon.
We are not in an especially exalted position…
That was one of the first things she’d been taught when she became a member of the staff of the Adventurers Guild. Guild Girl did understand that.
Or at least, I feel like I do, but…
“…I’m going to go put some tea on.”
“Great! Make some for me too, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said to her pestering colleague as she stood up.
She placed a sign that said BE BACK SOON at her counter and retreated to a back room.
She could and should boil the water herself, but…
Nothing wrong with a little laziness.
Guild Girl poked her head into the kitchen and asked for some boiling water. The rhea chef there was easygoing.
She waited until the tea leaves had steeped, poured some in her favorite cup, then bustled back to the reception counter.
“Here you go.”
“Yay! Thank you!” Her coworker happily took the cup; Guild Girl ignored her when she asked, “How about some snacks to go with?”
Guild Girl sat in her own seat and was just putting her cup to her lips, when—
“Oh!”
She put the cup back down on the saucer with a clatter.
A dark figure was striding boldly through the crowded Guild Hall. He wore grimy leather armor and a cheap-looking steel helmet. A sword of a strange length was at his hip, and a small round shield was on his arm.
