Icarus knew that becoming strong took years. But he didn't have years!
All this time, he had thought that his family, well, it was better said to call them his clan, were just sick because they worked all day long.
He got sick because of that as well, most days. Especially when Ingrid had no moldy bread to spare, and Icarus had not managed to chop enough wood.
But he had books in here! And he was going to make sure that his clan survived! Even if… even if none of his many aunties and uncles was ever going to adopt him.
He shrugged. It was not like they didn't have children to take care of. And he was a man, besides! Already married!
He looked at Basila, who was humming. The elf girl had made a dress out of the leaves, which had made the carpet dirty.
Icarus nudged her.
"Do you know how to get rid of runes?" She could craft them. It was logical that should she mess up a rune, she should be able to get rid of it.
"Icarus… if someone notices that your family doesn't have the runes on them anymore, we can be…" Basila saw the kind painter before her eyes.
But the man had not bowed his head. No, he had defiance in his eyes until the very last second.
She nodded.
"But you know? We are smugglers!" The girl wanted to use a different word. A more hopeful one. "And we are going to make this work!"
"So, you know how to remove a slave rune?" Icarus gripped her shoulders. Ready to throw her in the air!
"No," Basila's answer dampened his enthusiasm. "But that doesn't mean I can't try!"
As soon as she said that, Icarus hugged her.
He felt the leaves of her dress brush against his rough-spun clothing. He felt how soft her hair was, now that she washed it.
Even if it was with vinegar.
"Why doesn't your hair smell?" Icarus didn't know why he asked that. He just wanted to get to know her better. He didn't remember from where, but someone had told him that an elf was like a glove of garlic.
There was the skin on the outside, and the putrid smell on the inside, showing how treacherous those were.
But… the best dishes were made with garlic. At least, that was what Icarus thought. And what Ingrid believed in as well, and swore by.
For every time Icarus brought her some wild garlic foraged from the lord's forest, she always gave him a silver coin and a bowl of the stew she cooked with it.
Even when that got her in trouble.
"Well, I bathe," Basila said, but just because she was confused. "And the vinegar smell doesn't stay after the rinsing. You should try it."
Icarus nodded, hugging her tighter.
"Thank you," he felt that he should say the magic words. Sure, he couldn't say them in his own language. He doubted that she'd understand.
But he felt the need to say them regardless.
"Well, no sobbing now, Champion!" Basila pushed him away, but her entire face was as red as a tomato. "We have smuggling business to attend to!"
Icarus smiled.
Ah, maybe Basila wasn't one of the boys…
"But if Master Tang catches us doing something like that, It'll be our hides!" Basila crossed her arms over her flat chest. Icarus nodded, his gaze going back to her eyes.
Nope, she was one of the boys.
But Ingrid, on the other hand… now she had something to cross her arms over…
"True," not that that would stop Icarus, but he had to agree. Besides, the old Guild Master just wanted the best for them.
But blood did not turn to water. Icarus had a duty to his people!
"So, here's the plan!" Basila told him, as she activated the quest system.
After all, if they were really going to go on such a daring mission, then they should get some exp for it!
0000
Master Tang came back to a clean hideout.
He narrowed his eyes.
It was clean, all of the leaves were now used for a dress for the elven girl. The horselord teenager was doing pushups with the girl on his back, who was reading out loud from a book.
Every mentor would have been proud.
But Master Tang was not born yesterday!
"Ok, spill! What are you too cooking?" Master Tang asked.
"Grilled rats, Master Tang!" Basila chirped, pausing in her reading.
Now the old man really knew something was up.
"One does not grill without looking at the meat," he decided that he might as well teach them something, before he spoiled their plans. "Let me see what you are making, ok?"
The elven girl sprang to her feet, as Icarus got up with the agility of someone who needed a walking stick.
Master Tang didn't say a word. The boy should learn not to let his lady boss him around. After all, one hundred sticks to someone else's back never hurt those watching…
Soon, Basila was uncovering the lid to a pan with rat meat inside. And there were also mushrooms. And…
"My raisins!" Master Tang balled his fists.
He needed those to catch rats!
He looked at the kids, who were taking steps away from him. How was he to explain to them that raisins were expensive, and they had doomed him to poverty and hunger?
Well… more than he had to suffer through now, at least.
"Those were mine, Master Tang," Basila bowed her head, expecting a fist to the jaw.
Icarus was before her in an instant, a leaf between his fingers.
Master Tang sighed.
"It's just," he hated himself for losing his cool before the children. Once, he had been the richest man in town. And now… now he was ready to beat up children over some raisins. "Life is hard."
That spoke volumes to the two.
"Let us eat," Icarus said.
Hadn't he treated Basila the same way? And she-him? They had to forgive each other.
It was them against the world…