I am Shadow, 2 arcs old, a metal golem enchanted with a portion of Prince Ren Drakemore's soul, and I am an adventurer.
Thundering hooves pound the ground as five massive razor boars charge toward us. Each one is a half-ton of muscle, standing four feet tall on four stocky legs, with razor-sharp tusks jutting from their lower jaws. The earth trembles beneath their hammering steps as they barrel through the farmer's field toward us.
Fifty feet.
Thirty feet.
Ten feet.
CRASH! All five boars slam into my solid mana barrier with a force that shattered bones in a cacophony of sickening cracks. Their heavy bodies collide with the transparent shield, their momentum brought to an abrupt stop. Compressed against the barrier, they slide lifelessly to the ground in a heap. Two of the boars twitch, their dying brains firing off erratic signals in telltale death throes, while the remaining three struggle, disoriented, to get back on their feet. Their shattered bones make their bodies look twisted and deformed grotesquely.
Before they can rise, three rapid twangs echo from behind me as Maribel's arm-mounted miniature crossbow fires three poisoned bolts. The projectiles zip past me, striking the injured beasts. Though the bolts inflict little damage on their own, their potent poison acts quickly, causing the boars to thrash in agony. Blood begins to pour from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths as they let out guttural roars of terror and pain. Within moments, they collapse, taking their final shuddering breaths.
"Your barriers are really strong," Maribel remarks, her tone impressed as she reloads her crossbow.
"Thanks. I sort of specialize in defensive magic," I reply, drawing my skinning knife from my belt.
"You took them out with one spell," Maribel says, pulling out her own knife and approaching one of the fallen beasts. "And you found them right away… again"
It's too early to tell her about the bird puppets scouting for me.
"My magic lets me sense targets from far away," I say, which isn't a lie. However, it was my hummingbird puppet, tirelessly circling above us, that pinpointed the boars before we even arrived. My puppets ensure Maribel and I don't waste valuable time searching for our targets.
Kneeling by one of the boars, I set to work. I press the blade into its thick hide to make the initial cuts around the legs. The first cut should go just above the joint of each leg. I slide the knife in, but the blade moves too easily. The skin pulls apart under elastic tension, and my blade slips upward, carving too deep.
"Stop!" Maribel says urgently, leaning over my shoulder. "You're cutting it wrong, Master Shadow."
"I know. Sorry," I reply in frustration, pulling the knife free. "I know where to cut, but my lack of tactile sensation makes it hard to do delicate tasks like this."
"You can't feel anything?" Maribel asks, kneeling beside me.
"Yes, I can't feel anything." I admit with a sigh. "Feeling things used to remind me I was alive, that this was all real. Without it... without the warmth of the sun or the wind on my face, I feel trapped. Like I'm in limbo between life and death."
Maribel hesitates, then places a tentative hand on my shoulder. "That sounds terrible," she says sympathetically.
For a moment, there's only the sound of the light breeze blowing through the tall wheat stalks in the field around us. I shift the blade, aiming to attempt the cut again.
"Here," Maribel says gently, breaking the silence. "Let me handle the skinning. If you do it, we won't get paid the full amount for the pelts."
"I'm sorry," I say, feeling embarrassed.
"Sorry for what?" Maribel scoffs, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "I'm just glad there's something you actually need me for. Chelestia knows you didn't need me to kill them."
Maribel sets to work skinning the boars with the practiced ease of an expert hunter. Thanks to Huckleberry, Buttercup, and the wagon, we're able to take not only their pelts but also a large portion of their meat. While Maribel took care of the skinning, I took care of removing and packaging their meat. Once everything is loaded onto the wagon, we set off for Stonebrook. It's a short journey, no more than two miles.
As we arrive, we make our way to Stonebrook's Adventurer's Guild branch.
I tie up Huckleberry and Buttercup outside while Maribel and I head in. The guild hall has the rustic charm of a hunter's lodge, with beast heads mounted on the walls above sturdy wooden tables and chairs where adventurers enjoy food and drinks.
We're greeted by several adventurers as we walk to the service counter at the back of the hall. I nod and wave at a few familiar faces, while Maribel seems to shrink under the attention. Unlike the grand guild hall in the capital, this branch is smaller and only handles local quests. Still, it offers all the same services to the roughly 40 adventurers who work out of Stonebrook. Most of them are E or D rank, with only two C-rank adventurers among them.
"Welcome back, Master Shadow and Lady Maribel," chirps a familiar cheerful voice.
Behind the counter stands Iris, one of the guild attendants. Her long red hair is tied into two butt-length braids that drape neatly over the back of her crisp uniform. Due to her petite stature, she stands on a wooden stool to better reach the counter.
"We have the pelts for five razor boars in the wagon out front to fulfill this quest, Miss Iris," I say, placing the quest form on the counter.
"Woo, fast work as always, sir!" Iris exclaims, leaning forward to snatch the form with a big friendly smile. "We'll confirm the delivery and get your payment in a flash."
She hands the request form off to Kip, a male guild attendant I recognize, who nods and strides toward the exit to inspect the wagon. Meanwhile, Iris opens the coin drawer behind the counter and starts counting out the reward, 7 silver coins for slaying the boars and 5 copper coins for each pelt.
"It's all there!" Kip yells from the front door. "I'm going to offload them," he adds before disappearing outside.
"Here's your payment, 4 silver and 25 copper," Iris says with a bright smile, pushing the neatly stacked coins as far across the counter as her short arms will allow.
I've always wondered if she's part dwarf. Not a full dwarf, she's not stocky or muscular enough for that, but her stature certainly fits the image.
Perhaps she's a halfling?
"Before you go, Master Shadow," Iris continues, pulling out two file folders from behind the counter, "The guild has evaluated your performance and would like to upgrade you to D-rank."
"Oh, congratulations, Master Shadow!" Maribel says, her tone a mix of surprise and admiration. "I've been E-rank for three years, and here you are making D-rank in just two arcs. Impressive!"
"I mean both of you, Miss Maribel," Iris corrects before I can respond.
"Are you sure?" I ask, taken aback.
I know I've completed a lot of quests, but most of them didn't go perfectly. I thought ranking up depended on completing quests well, not just completing them.
"Let's take a look," Iris says, flipping open the first folder. "Master Shadow, you've completed 42 E-rank quests, 12 D-rank quests, including today's and 1 C-rank quest: those Mithril Fur Bears. Of the gathering quests, you delivered sub-par or damaged materials 18 times."
Ouch. That stings.
"And for Miss Maribel," Iris says, opening the second folder and scanning its contents, "you've completed 113 E-rank quests, 9 D-rank quests, and 1 C-rank quest, again, the Mithril Fur Bears. You've also failed 31 quests during the same period but were only noted for delivering damaged or sub-par materials twice."
"That's a lot of quests," I remark, glancing at Maribel.
"You're one to talk," Maribel retorts, smirking.
"It's also a lot of failures." Maribel adds darkly.
"In addition to your quest records," Iris continues, "the guild received a letter from Lord Griswald thanking the two of you for rescuing one of his servants who was stranded on the road to Cairndorn."
"Oh, well, that was nice of him," I say, surprised but pleased.
"Though you've both faced challenges," Iris concludes, "the Guild Master believes you've clearly met the requirements for promotion to D-rank." She beams at us. "Now, may I please see your guild cards?"
Maribel and I both pull out our small, rectangular metal guild cards and hand them to Iris. She places them, one at a time, into a small black box. After a brief glow of light, she retrieves them and hands them back to us.
"Thank you" Maribel and I say in unison.
"Go ahead and confirm your rank," Iris directs politely.
I press my thumb against the bottom right corner of my guild card to activate it. The card glows green, confirming my ownership, and black lettering appears: my name, magic capacity, home guild, and rank. My rank now reads D, and my magic capacity displays 10,732.
"Your capacity has gone up a lot in two arcs," Maribel comments, peering around my shoulder to look.
"Still not high enough," I reply. Too many times I've come close to running out of mana. I'm tired of walking the line between victory and defeat.
"It's way higher than mine," Maribel says, tilting her guild card toward me. Her card reads 4,560.
"You have less, but you use what you have far more effectively than I do," I respond encouragingly.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Master Shadow and Lady Maribel!" Iris announces loudly, her cheerful voice cutting through the clamor of the guild hall.
The room erupts with cheers, adventurers raising their mugs in a toast to us. The sudden attention causes Maribel's face to flush a deep red.
"We should celebrate," I say casually, turning toward Maribel.
"Celebrate how?" she asks, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"How about we get you something to eat?" I suggest, glancing around the raucous room. "Somewhere quieter than here."
"That sounds great," Maribel agrees, relief clear in her tone.
We make our way out of the guild hall, stepping into the crisp air outside. The boar pelts have already been offloaded from our wagon. I hold out my hand to help Maribel climb onto the driver's seat. She accepts it hesitantly, stepping up and taking the reins while I untie the girls from their posts. Once the horses are free, I climb up beside her, taking care not to rock the wagon too much.
"If we go to the market, we can sell the meat to the butcher and use the money to buy something special to celebrate," Maribel suggests.
"Good idea," I reply as we set off toward the butcher.
After tying the horses outside, I carry the heavy bundles of boar meat into the shop. The butcher inspects the cuts and hands me 21 silver coins in exchange. Once the deal is done, we leave the horses and wagon tied outside the butcher shop and head off on foot to a small café nearby, called Garden Spot.
The café is charmingly quaint, decorated with fresh flowers and a single, striking painting of a field of blooms hung on the wall. The lounge room is tiny, housing only four small round tables, each set for two. I hold the door open for Maribel, and as she steps in, I hear a soft gasp escape her lips.
"It smells amazing in here!" says Maribel.
"What does it smell like." I respond as I follow her into the restaurant.
"Flowers." answers Maribel flatly, her eyes sweep over the décor, apprehension flickering across her face.
Yeah, that makes sense.
I approach the only open table and pull out a chair for her. She hesitates briefly, her eyes darting toward the other patrons, before sitting down. Her cheeks flush red again as I push the chair in for her.
I wonder what she's nervous about.
Once she's seated, I take my place across from her. A young blond waiter approaches our table, wearing a pink apron embroidered with colorful flowers over a crisp white shirt and black trousers.
They're really leaning into this flower theme.
"Hello, lovebirds. What would you like to order?" asks the boisterous young waiter, his smile almost too large for his face.
Hearing his words, everything suddenly clicks. I glance around the room and notice that each of the other patrons is sitting in pairs, couples. Turning back to Maribel, I finally understand the look of horrified embarrassment on her face.
"We're not a couple, sir," I say, attempting to dispel the awkwardness. Maribel, meanwhile, looks like she wants to speak but can't quite find her voice.
"My apologies! You just looked like such a…err…cute couple," the waiter stammers, realizing halfway through his practiced line that it doesn't exactly fit, considering he's speaking to some weirdo wearing a mask and smelling of blood. "What would you two like to order?"
"Just give us one of your most popular dish, please," I reply, hoping to shorten the interaction and ease Maribel's discomfort.
"One Lover's Platter coming right up!" announces the waiter loudly, drawing more attention than I'd like. Maribel hides her face in her hands, her cheeks glowing even redder.
The meal begins awkwardly, but it doesn't take long for us to realize that the other patrons are far too absorbed in each other to pay any attention to us. Eventually, Maribel relaxes enough to talk and enjoy the food. She comments that it's pretty good, though she's shocked by the price, four copper coins. Personally, I found the cost reasonable, but I've never paid for a restaurant meal before today. Not wanting to reveal my ignorance, I avoid asking what a fair price for a meal actually is. As a result, I still don't know if t coppers is expensive or not.
When we leave the restaurant, Maribel is in much better spirits, a satisfied smile on her face and a full belly.
"There's one more place I'd like to visit in the market," I say, stopping outside The Garden Spot. "Follow me."
Maribel trails behind as I lead her along the outer ring of the market center to a tailor's shop, Rosita's Fashions.
"What do you need to buy here?" Maribel asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Well, I couldn't help but notice you only have one set of clothes," I reply matter-of-factly.
"You want me to buy new clothes?" she asks, clearly surprised.
"Oh no, I'm going to buy them for you as a gift," I say cheerfully.
"You don't have to do that…" she murmurs, her eyes drifting to the shop window. Despite her attempt at refusal, she's clearly excited at the idea of owning new clothes.
"Nonsense. You shouldn't have to wear your adventurer's clothes even when you're resting or off duty," I insist. "It must be a huge hassle for you only having one set of clothes."
Maribel hesitates, seemingly uncomfortable with the idea of spending money on herself, but it doesn't take much persuasion for her resistance to melt into giddy excitement. Once inside, she flits through the shelves and racks with a bright smile. That is, until she stops in front of a blue and white dress that catches her eye. She then notices the price tag, 30 copper coins.
Most of the dresses here cost half that. This dress reflects the cost of 10 days of work by a tailor.
"Are you sure about this, Shadow? How much were you planning to spend?" she asks, her voice timid. "I… I'm not sure I'm worth this…"
I step over to her and very gently place a hand on her shoulder. "Maribel, you're worth a lot to me," I say earnestly.
She is an important piece for my game board, and so maybe more.
Her expression softens, her eyes glistening as she looks up at me with a watery-eyed smile. I add. "You can get four complete sets of clothes. Don't worry about the price."
This shop caters to commoners, so it isn't particularly expensive. I'm confident I can easily afford this.
"I don't know what to say…" Say Maribel looking joyfully up at me. "Thank you."
Maribel then spends the next hour moving excitedly through the store, practically glowing as she examines the various clothes and shoes on display. Even the items she doesn't pick seem to bring her joy just by looking at them. The shopkeeper, sensing a large sale, looks equally pleased, practically hovering nearby with an eager smile and occasionally complementing her choices.
Finally, Maribel gathers an armful of clothing and approaches the tailor, clutching her selections like priceless treasures.
"Ma'am, do you have a changing room?" she asks brightly.
"Yes, my dear, just at the back," the tailor says, gesturing toward a curtained-off area behind the counter.
"Thank you!" Maribel responds, her excitement overflowing. She then turns to me and says, "Let's go, Shadow."
"Wait… me?" I stammer, caught off guard.
"Yes, you, silly," she replies, grabbing my hand and attempting to tug me forward, though she fails to move me even an inch. "You're paying for these, so you should see how they look!"
"I can't go…" I begin to protest, but to avoid her straining herself further, I reluctantly allow her to lead me toward the changing area.
"Maribel, I really shouldn't—" I try to explain, but she cuts me off again.
"And you won't! Like a gentleman, you'll turn around, close your eyes, and only look when I tell you to," she declares, practically bubbling with enthusiasm as she pulls me into the changing room.
"That's not going to-" I try again.
"Enough! Sit here and close your eyes," Maribel insists, guiding me to a chair and placing it so that I'm facing the wall, away from where she's about to change.
Before I know it I am sitting on the chair facing the wall as she starts undressing behind me. Off goes her shirt and It's too late. I go silent.
What I had been trying to explain earlier is that I don't have eyes to close. My vision doesn't work like a human's; it comes from a series of magical sensory enchantments that provide me with 360-degree awareness of my surroundings. This means that, despite my best intentions, I am completely aware of everything happening behind me. Maribel is entirely undressing, trying on new garments, including underclothes.
She is nice to look at though. Not complaining.
The awkwardness of the situation leaves me trapped. Any protest I might make now feels both too late and too disruptive. So, I sit still in this chair pointlessly facing the wall and doing my best to pretend I'm oblivious.
Meanwhile Maribel eagerly tries on each of the four outfits, showing them off with giddy excitement and demonstrating how she can mix and match pieces to create even more combinations. I offer the obligatory compliments.
"That looks great on you!"
"Wow, this is a good style for you!"
Ren once read a book titled The Gentleman's Guide to Understanding and Managing Women. In it there was a whole chapter about the importance of compliments.
They all look equally good on her. Truthfully, I don't care much about the outfits themselves. I found the periods when she removed them far more interesting.
Yes, I know it's wrong to watch someone undress without their knowledge or permission. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. This is basically her fault. The problem is, with each outfit change, her potential anger level If I tell her increases.
Completely unjustified, of course.
The clothes altogether cost 16 silver and 5 copper, a price I considered more than worth what I got for it. On the ride back to the Rabbit's Paw, Maribel hugged the package containing her new clothes tightly and thanked me repeatedly. It was clear she had never been able to shop so freely without worrying about the cost. Her happiness was contagious and there was no way I was going to ruin it with some pesky truth. Before we parted ways, she surprised me with a hug before darting into the inn.
Today was a good day.