Hey there, been awhile huh? This chapter is much shorter than the others unfortunately. I pondered waiting until I had written more but, since my life is going through big changes, I don't know when I'll have time to write again. Writing, for me, has taken a sideline for now so… I really don't know when the next update will be. I'd like to first and foremost, thank you for all the support. I don't know about anyone else on this site but, for me personally, seeing a good review brings a smile to my face.
Last thing before we get to the chapter. There was a review I'd like to address.
First, thank you for not holding back on your thoughts. Genuine critiques are what allows us writers to attempt to do better. However, I think you misunderstood my character a little. I don't know if my writing was unclear but, in regard to him feeling special, he viewed it as a consolation prize. He was just trying to find a reason to be optimistic, a reason to make the situation feel less shitty. Think like, imagine you were kidnapped. Pretty fucking shitty, right? Now imagine you were kidnapped because your blood has some special property that could save millions of lives. Still sucks, but at least there is that small consolation that makes it better than just being kidnapped for your family's money.
It was just a small way to keep optimistic and focused, and to not dwell on his past life that much.
Alexander's main driving force isn't that he wants to be special. That thought he had, is just a byproduct of his character. He was holding on to that reasoning that he was NEEDED for the world, and when it was taken away somewhat, he was just left with almost nothing, so he got upset. Being taken from his life and dropped onto another world with nothing, stung. When he became Arisen, he was granted a purpose, a reason why he was there. The situation went from 'I have been ripped from my world for seemingly no reason and it sucks' to 'I was torn from my world to be its chosen shepherd and it sucks, but at least I'm needed here'.
He doesn't fully accept the situation he's in. Now that he knows that gods exist in this world, he sees no need for a seneschal, and consequentially, no need for an Arisen. Still, his beliefs won't make the Dragon magically disappear. Whether he accepts it or not, the Dragon is out there, and it has chosen him. Only he may slay it, and as long as its out there, it will keep killing and destroying as it pleases. Sure, the Dragon may choose to lay still and do nothing but… for how long. In the end, the Dragon's purpose is to make a champion worthy of being seneschal, so it will not wait around forever. At some point in time, it will either force the Arisen to act, strike a deal with it, or kill him and choose another. And that is the reason he feels compelled to kill it.
In the game, Savan (previous Arisen before the game's mc), seeks the Dragon for revenge. The MC's reasons are entirely up to the player, but with their village destroyed, revenge is a fair guess. So I wanted Alexander to be different, and to shy away from vengeance. Instead, as detailed in the first chapter, he feels immense guilt. He feels responsible for the dragon attack on Melen. In his eyes, the Dragon was there for HIM, anything else was just collateral. Guilt, responsibility/duty, and damage control are his main drives for chasing the Dragon.
The world may not need a Seneschal, but it still needs an Arisen to put the overgrown lizard down. And that particular topic will be something the MC will ponder on excessively. When he is not too busy shoveling all his problems onto his future self, that is.
Anyway, hope that cleared things up. Without further ado, onto the chapter.
/********/
I had woken up not but 15 minutes ago, taking the time to restrain my hair in a messy ponytail, and slipping on the clothes Gail had been kind enough to lend me. Where he'd gotten clothes to fit me, I do not know, nor do I intend to ask.
But as I made my way to the front, I came upon a peculiar scene. Gail stood with a troubled look on his face, looking over a pouting Malik. The boy himself was tightly clutching the twin pair of daggers I'd retrieved from the deceased Reynar, stubbornly holding onto them whilst refusing to look the pawn's way.
"Malik, you do not wish to part with them, I know it true. Yet, whate'er the reason for Alexander's decision- "
"NO! I won't give them away!"
As I make myself known, Gail greets me with a troubled look, a silent plea for aid hidden in his eyes. I walk silently towards the boy until I'm standing just behind him. Slowly, I lay my hand on his shoulder.
"No one has asked that you be rid of them, merely that you not consider the pair as your main hand for warfare."
Much to my annoyance, the boy vigorously shook his head, vehemently refusing to use anything besides those oversized daggers. I briefly glanced towards Gail, checking to see if we are on the same page. Unfortunately, I'm no telepath so that did me no good.
"Well... there is one path you may yet take, but... no, it won't work."
The boy's eyes widened, and his head turned faster than it probably should've. I wasn't sure whether it would work, but it seems to have drawn his attention, just as I desired.
"What is it? Tell me!"
"Malik! Mind your manners."
Surprisingly, Gail immediately jumped at the boy's statement, harshly cracking down on his behaviour. I hold up a hand as if to say, 'No harm done'. Still, I've never heard Gail raise his voice like that, he must really care for the boy. I make a mental note of it before I proceed.
"Striders are fearsome combatants that blitz through the battlefield with great speed. They make for fearsome killers. Armed with twin daggers, they specialize in delivering flurry of blows with unmatched haste. Tis the path I had in mind, but it is far too strenuous for a child to undertake."
Hopefully, my little spiel would invoke the pride that nearly every kid has. The same pride that refuses to acknowledge that they are, in fact, children. The self-same pride that prevents them from simply admitting that there are things they just can't do.
"I can do it! No, I WILL do it!"
Hook, line, and sinker.
"The path of the strider requires one stout of heart and sharp of mind. Are you certain that you stand ready? Once you've taken this path, there is no going back."
Malik hesitated for a while, seemingly pondering his choice deeply. Meanwhile, Gail seemed a tad uncomfortable yet did not intervene, no doubt he wasn't particularly keen on my manipulation of Malik. At least I was manipulating him towards a better outcome, one that greatly benefits the boy.
"I'm ready."
"So be it. Gail, I leave the honours to you."
Said pawn releases a troubled sigh, clearly discontent with the situation in some way.
"As you say, cos. Though I must be clear, I cannot be sure of its success, nor of the learning time required for one not bound to the Wyrm."
I gather my things, attaching the pouch of Valis to my waist and grabbing my staff. I also grab an old backpack that was laying around. I start moving to the door as I respond.
"All I ask is that you try. I shall look up armor for Malik in the meantime. Take care."
With a quick farewell I'm out the door, wandering into the streets of Orario. If I recall correctly, Gail mentioned that armaments could be found in the tower at the city's centre. Mind made up, I start walking in that direction, keeping an ear open for interesting rumours. With no headphones or a conversational partner I have little else to do anyway.
It was only when I near arrived that a particular conversation stood out to me.
"Did you see the announcement this morning?"
Spoke one to the other.
"I can't believe it, only one year. I heard it's a new record."
"Of course it is, when have you ever heard of someone levelling up in only one year before? Most of us can't even pass the first level, those that do, put in years of effort."
"Aaagh! It pisses me off! I'm busting my ass off in the Dungeon every day, and this random kid reaches level two in the time it took me to make it to the fifth floor."
"She isn't some random girl dumbass, she's a part of the Loki Familia."
The other just sighed as if defeated, and silence reigned for a minute. Just as I made to leave, however, a new topic surged forth.
"And it only gets worse for us low-levels."
"Huh, what are you talking about?"
"You haven't heard? They say the famous assassin Black Cat and the renowned bounty hunter Black Fist have both been spotted here in the city."
"You idiot! No one's gonna put a target on our heads, we're not important enough."
As the two kept arguing back and forth, it quickly became apparent that everything of use to me had already been said. And so, without further delay, I stepped into the tower of Babel.
Loki... what could possibly prompt someone to enter a contract with him of all people. Also, what kind of fucking moniker is 'Black Fist'? That is one of the worst titles in recent memory. Disregarding that train of thought, I focus on the task at hand.
As I asked around, I found that what I was looking for was a few floors up. I'd also discovered that they had magic stone powered elevators. While I was initially reluctant, thinking along the lines of 'I'm not trusting something finicky like magic to move all this weight reliably for long periods of time', I came to the conclusion that with this being used multiple times daily, it would've already been shut down had it caused many casualties or accidents.
And so, with some trepidation, I stumbled into the elevator. I fumble with how to operate the thing for a minute or two, only to then realise it is actually remarkably similar to a modern elevator. With that minor embarrassment out of the way, I make my way up.
Arriving at the first floor I had been suggested, I am faced with nothing but zeros, far too many zeros. I understand this world operates on a currency similar to Asian currency like won or yen, but still, some of these weapons cost a fortune! I'm certainly not shopping here, no way no how. Turning around, I swiftly return to the elevator and make my way up.
Now this is more my speed. As I travelled along this floor, I found that the majority of items here were far more affordable for my price range. They were also much more in line with prices back on Earth. Of course, Earth is devoid of fantasy materials and supernatural smithing, which, correct me if I'm wrong, probably has something to do with the prices.
As the search continued, my frustration only grew. Finding armor fit for a child was hard enough as it is, what with me constantly having to peruse armor for pallums.
Yet what truly irked and confounded me, was that the majority of armor in the shops was designed in a fantastical manner. While I take no issue with their aesthetic, I do find faults in their practicality. I release a resigned sigh when my eyes land upon a pair of oversized, spiked, shoulder pads.
Not that there weren't more traditional sets, but none so far were the appropriate size. Just as I'd about given up, I came across a yellow gambeson that had been put aside with some black quilted trousers, and a pair of reinforced leather boots, all of appropriate size. These were all likely made by the same smith and meant as a set.
Speaking of, here in Orario, it seems there isn't really a distinction between blacksmiths, bowyers, fletchers, etc. In fact, all the Familias that deal in these matters are nominated smithing or crafting Familias, its members are simply called smiths or craftsmen.
I strode up to the counter, locking eyes with the half-elf manning it. His perfect posture contrasting with his disinterested face.
"Pardon me, friend. Have you aught more from this smith? I'd hate to leave my friend's head and hands bare."
He gave me a look I can't quite place, reaching under the counter to pull up a box, before unceremoniously dropping it onto the table. He pops open the lid and pulls out a pair of ugly, but practical, leather gloves, along with a chain coif of decent quality. Underneath the chain, is a thick padded coif. Perfect. Goblins and kobolds don't generate a lot of force on their strikes and bites, and given their relatively weak claws and teeth, this armour should be plenty enough.
Not wishing to waste any time, I pay the man, store the armor in a bag, and make my way out of the tower. All the while, treacherous thoughts of using Gail's valis plagues my mind. This money is meant purely for Malik, to use it for anything else would be a betrayal of trust. Still, it is my very LIFE I'm considering here, even a bit of cloth on my head and torso could rescue me from a fatal blow.
With heavy thoughts, I made my way out of Babel, eventually deciding to stick with my morals. The search for armor had been long and frustrating, in fact, it had been several hours since I left home. Looking up at the sky, I theorize it to be about 4pm. Since I have yet to have lunch, I decide to stop at a street stall to buy myself a shoddy meal.
I take my time navigating through Orario, all the while snacking on whatever caught my eye.
A few hours later, when the sun had almost set, a stray thought wandered into my mind.
'Am I really doing the right thing with Malik?'
By all rights, the boys shouldn't even have gone to the Dungeon. He should've had a childhood, something which one can't have if they're a two-bit adventurer forced to face battle every waking day. I should be dissuading him from adventuring, not encouraging him.
Quietly, I slip into an alley, resting my back against the wall and bringing my hands to my face. My own voice silently exuding into the dim side street.
"What the fuck am I doing?"
Only now that I held armor fit for a child in my hands, did realisation of what I had done slowly begin setting in. I had, by all rights, just encouraged a kid into becoming a child soldier. Yes, it was at Gail's behest, the self-same Gail I owe a great deal to. Not to mention, he justified his reasoning well enough. Yet I still feel guilty, an awful anxiousness creeped into my heart, grasping it akin to a sloth on a branch.
Should I really blindly follow his suggestion simply because I am indebted to him? Does he, as a pawn, know of a life beyond battle? Does he truly know how to solve issues, when his kind lack the ambition necessary to seek out resolutions? Did he perhaps ask me to mould Malik into a warrior simply because it is the only way he knows how? Could I not have searched for another resolution with Gail, instead of relenting to his?
As Arisen, I should've said I'd deal with it. If any harm was to come to Malik, who I've taken under my wing, why can't I solve it?
I know why… because I'm no hero. I'm undeserving of the Dragon's mark. Before my mind could go back into that whirlwind of dark thoughts, my attention was inexplicably drawn to the end of the alley. It is not as if I'd heard or seen something, my attention simply locked onto the path. I shifted onto the middle of the alley, attempting to find whatever had drawn my gaze.
A blur. A blur was all I managed to see before pain spread around my sternum. Something incredibly dense had just rammed into me, painfully dropping me onto the filthy ground. Whatever floored me was standing in front of me, yet my dazed mind had trouble perceiving it. As my mind cleared, I realised two things.
One, I had spent far longer mulling in my thoughts than I'd expected. The sun had already dipped into the horizon, the streets dimly lit by the magic stones. The path I was on was now far darker than before, little light reaching this concealed place.
Two, what had knocked me to the ground was actually a person. Not only that, but it was also a relatively short woman with a lean physique. Had I not known of the gods' blessings, I would've been incredibly confused as to how a slim girl no taller than 160cm(5'2ft) managed to bulldoze me without falling herself.
As my eyes locked onto her face, they met with a frightened visage, blood leaking down the raven-haired girl's head. Two concealed protrusions poked up into her hooded, dark green cloak. Animal ears perhaps. Young and alluring feminine features hidden by both her cloak and the dark crimson vigour flowing down her head. Yet, beneath the shadow, a pair of green eyes finer than any emerald stared back at me.
Fancy black heel boots with white laces decorates her feet, a pair of mini black stockings hugging her slender legs up to her calf. Beige shorts frame her hips, held together by a black belt. A series of straps hold a leather bag to her side, its small size intended for light travel. Her toned belly is fully displayed, courtesy of her black crop top. Speaking of the bizarre top, it has a deep V-neck, showing her collar and coming just shy of showing any cleavage. The top's neckline also has a white collar, which fits with the inset sleeves that have thick white cuffs. Lastly, a pair of brown long gloves cover her dainty forearms and hands.
She is young, very young. She must be in her early teens, not much older than Malik, if not the same age. My already troubled mind was further disturbed. She was strong, stronger than me. Considering how she easily bulldozed me, and given the difference in our size and muscles, that must mean she has attained at least level 2, possibly more. I doubt I am weak enough to get dropped so easily by a level 1. Especially considering I defeated the black lizard, which killed one adventurer and forced the others to flee. So I must be at least as capable as a level one, if not more.
This girl is likely higher than level 2, a sad truth to be sure. Most adventurers never make it past the first level, independent of time. Yet this girl, no, this young teen, was probably already at her third blessing. How young must she have been when she started a life of conflict? I've just heard that the fastest record for a level up, was just set today at one year. If that is a world record rather than the city's record, then this child must have spent at least a year on each level up. Assuming she is level 3 and 13 years of age, that would mean she had to have started when she was 11 at the latest. But thinking realistically, she must have started before she even reached her first decade.
How young is too young? At what age does it become acceptable for a god or goddess to recruit someone into their Familia, with the intent of grooming them into warriors?
I raised myself up, dusting my clothes off while dark thoughts plagued my mind. At this point, I was too far into my own mind to notice the girl walk past me, skulking towards the dead end behind me.
Is this the kind of life I want for Malik? Is this the life Gail wants for him? Can I really accept taking what's left of his childhood from him? Does he not deserve better, has he not suffered enough?
As I turn to face the teen, I find her panicking from the realisation that she had just cornered herself in a dead end. Clearly, she was running from something, or rather, someone. As I glance at her back, I see a black cat tail emerging from her shorts. Those protrusions must be her ears then. She attempted to jump, maybe to get to the roof, or maybe out of desperation. The height she would need to reach is impossible for a normal human, though she is neither normal, nor human. Still, when she put pressure on her leg, she almost crumbled. Some manner of leg injury, no doubt.
Suddenly, what I assume to be her ears, twitched. In response, she started crouching into the shadows, nearly vanishing from my sight despite our proximity. Shortly after, footsteps reached my own ears. Turning towards the exit of the alleyway, I find a woman walking towards me.
Neck-length azure hair frames a mature face. Piercing blue eyes look me over twice, her deep-set frown softening when she doesn't find what she's searching for. I can hazard a guess as to who she's seeking, nonetheless.
She is significantly taller than the teen, standing at about 175cm(5'9ft). She appears to be in her early or mid-twenties, around my age.
My eyes almost bulge out of my head when I make out the steel heel boots she wears, and I can't help but cringe when I see her wearing earrings. Maybe she wasn't expecting to fight today? Or she could have just forgotten to take them off. The weird, overly thick gauntlet-vambrace combo also gave me a headache.
Aside from that, she wore black, fingerless, evening gloves, black stockings with golden outlines at the top, a golden ring in her hair, and a large orange garb with two front slits at the hip, a high collar, white lines and outlines, openings for the shoulders, and golden accessories that seem to act like latches keeping the robe together.
As she made it within striking distance, approaching me with a casual gait, I could now see signs of a scuffle. Her pristine robe was dirty in places, cut in others, but she herself seems to be no worse for wear.
"Greetings, citizen. Did you see a hooded cat person run this way?"
Calm, collected, soothing. Those were the words that came to mind when I heard her voice, and saw her unmoving, unyielding expression.
She called me citizen… is she perhaps a part of some sort of law enforcement of Orario? At least that's the vibe I get when someone addresses another as citizen. I move to answer only to stop. Should I rat this person out?
Ideally, I would leave the situation alone. I don't know what happened, I don't know who's in the wrong, nor do I know what either of these girls did and why. I may feel like I'm being helpful and doing a good deed, but I might just condemn an innocent.
I could try and play it neutrally, but I doubt that'd go over well. Now that one of the parties has addressed me personally, I can't just go 'Not my problem'. Well, I could, but I have a feeling that would not go well. It seems I must pick a side.
"I…I…"
Just when I made to answer, my mind flashed with the image of the cat girl's frightened face. Unbidden, vivid images of a younger version of the cat girl assault my mind. Flashes of the girl's potential upbringing coursing through my brain. Images of a petrified, battle-worn, child forced to endure the Dungeon's horrors, and of another fate where she was raised as a child soldier fighting her own kin.
My will faltered, worn down by my own ill musings. But, when the little girl was replaced with that of Malik and the upbringing I would thrust upon him, only then did it shatter.
Christ! This girl might not even be 13 years old. I can't doom her to whatever faith awaits at the hands of this woman.
"I'm afraid tis a deadened path. No person living could pass this way. I have held here since dawn. None came."
She regarded me with suspicion, disbelieving my claims. She attempted to peer into the darkness before addressing me once more.
"What are you doing in a dead end by yourself?"
I regarded her with a sombre look, completely unintentionally mind, it was just my reaction at having my thoughts returned to Malik.
"Contemplating. Pondering life, and a metaphorical death.
My words intrigued her, her brows raising, cracking the stone-cold façade she'd put on since the opening of our conversation. She seemed intent on letting me continue, not commenting on my cryptic remark.
"Say you were to take position as guardian to a child, one whose real parents had died not too long ago. A child that carries many burdens, and many foes. Would you raise them a soldier, strip them of their childhood yet give them the strength to carve their own path? Or would you shelter them, nurture your own growth so that you may banish their shadows in their stead, and preserve whate'er innocence they yet hold."
Her eyes widened, surprise and shock etched into her features. Not that I blame her. I had essentially just hot potatoed a philosophical parenting question directly onto her lap with no warning.
Her features relaxed, as she regarded me with a comforting look. Much like how I had initially hesitated, she now showed the same hesitance on her answer to such a ridiculous comment.
She briefly looked back before regarding me once more.
"I can't answer you right now. But if you need some advice, come to Ganesha Familia's home and ask for Shakti. Our home is in the large statue of our eccentric god, the one with the elephant head, you can't miss it."
She seemed genuine, much to my surprise.
"Perhaps I will. One day."
A curt nod is all that followed. And before I could reply, she turned around and began on the path back to the main street. I watched her pick up her pace into a jog, slowly leaving my sight. When she was gone, I turned to where I know the girl to be.
The silent surroundings amplified my footsteps, like a ticking clock my feet rhythmically beat on the stone floor. The closer I came, the better I could make out the injured girl. Upon my approach, said girl rose from her crouched position. Her face and posture spoke of distrust and caution, but her actions spoke louder. She backed against the wall, reaching for something in her shorts, no doubt a concealed weapon of some kind.
I took one hand away from my staff, raising it in a sign of surrender.
"I mean no harm. Even were I to wish ill upon you, I would not be able to inflict it, for I would be vastly outmatched."
So shrouded in darkness she is, that I cannot perceive her reaction. In fact, more so than seeing, I felt the tension slip away.
"Pray, hold a moment. I wish to mend your wounds, at least, whate'er ones are in my power to heal."
Curious green eyes shone with hope, greed, and a hint of apprehension. Slowly, I brought my raised hand to my staff. The familiar green ring of ethereal words spun around me, a green orb coalescing at the tip of my staff. The girl pulled back, hostility towards me bubbling within her. Still, much to my relief, she chose not to act upon it.
And as my spell proceeded to completion, I invoked the dark green sigil between us, its light giving colour and radiance to this filthy alleyway. With anodyne cast, I stepped into its bubble, healing the minor abrasions from my fall.
I observed as the girl's eyes fixated themselves on the wisps of green light dancing through the air. She watched as if entranced, drinking in the sight of the soothing spell. Her shocked features constantly shifting between my spell, and myself.
"Please step inside, lest the spell go to waste."
I beckoned her in. If I was going to save her from her pursuer, I might as well go all the way and heal her as well. Slowly, like a new-born deer, she stepped into the bubble. Her eyes widened in fascination as the spell went to work. Naturally, it was rather slow. For a person of her strength, I would need multiple castings to restore her to mint condition.
Standing in the focal point of the spell, her features were lit up by a bright green glow, her beauty on clear display. My face took on a solemn look. Such a pretty young girl, ruined by the engine of war, led astray by her supposed betters.
I've always been apprehensive of humanoid gods in stories. When they are human, they often share human traits. And I don't know about anyone else, but there are very few humans I would trust with that kind of power.
Indeed, I am quite distrustful of the gods, and they certainly haven't made the greatest impressions thus far. They seem unbothered with child labour, even prone to employing them as soldiers. The way those two at Babel spoke of the record holder, I have no doubt she is young, question is… how young. With both Malik and this girl as examples, I'm not too confident I'll be fond of the answer. And if even the top dogs like Loki are doing it, no doubt everyone else is following. Either that, or they do not possess the strength to push back.
Slowly, gently, the cat girl's head wound began shrinking, mending itself through the forces of Magick. Her eyes glimmered and her face regained more of its natural colour. She stared at me with gratitude, and in that moment, her eyes seemed impossibly large. Maybe the shadows were playing tricks on me, or perhaps cat folk are possessed of naturally big eyes. Regardless of the reason, it did freak me out just a little bit.
"Thank you."
Were the simple words said by the girl. I was slightly taken aback, not by what she said, but rather what she sounds like. Her voice is surprisingly smooth and mature for her age but… I could still hear the trembles in it, and now that I peer closer, I can see her shaking ever so slightly. I should have expected it, after all, she did just have a close shave with death. One does not simply recover from that, even if they do get healed. I begin re-casting the spell, recapturing the young girl's focus. Her curious eyes eager in taking in every detail of the Magick giving form to Anodyne.
"Your gratitude is welcome, yet unneeded. I wish I could attribute my actions to goodwill, but the truth is far vainer."
I retract myself slowly, back leaning against the wall. Listlessly, my hand finds the wood of my staff, its length allowing me to support my weight.
"Well, I believe I have delayed long enough. I wish you a swift recovery. Farewell."
I turn towards the exit, giving a brief nod towards the cat girl. She remained within the bubble still, the green glow steadily mending her remaining wounds.
"Wait!"
I freeze in my tracks, shifting to face her once more. Her eyes traced me for a split second before finding my own hazel orbs. I could see she was far less anxious now than when I'd initially seen her, her shoulders less stiff and her posture laxer. Lazily, her tail swished back and forth, her hands at her hips, yet her shaking remained. The cat girl's emerald-green eyes took on a curious gleam, one I can't quite place.
"Could I ask you your name, mister?"
I took a step back, there was something in her voice I did not like, and just as the thought occurred to me, I heard it. Soft purring, nearly inaudible, reached my ears, the source clearly unmistakable. I could now recognize the sultry tone, the swaying hips, and the seductive walk for what they were. And I was not a fan.
"Stop! Stop, stop, stop, just… don't do that."
She withdrew slightly, clearly disappointed that her scheme, whatever it may be, didn't work. I also just realized that in my panic, I had completely broken character. Fuck me! Actually, poor choice of words. Shit! Should I just re-enter character as if nothing happened? Fuck it.
"Just tell me what it is you seek. I have very little to give. Still, you wish aught of me, tis clear as day."
I see a flash of determination cross her eyes, and soon, her alluring gait returns in full. She graces me with doe-like eyes, a mystical shine to them almost like magic. She extends her hand, letting it slide over my arm. Her hand, that is still very much shaking. Who does she think she's fooling? She is afraid, and likely desperate. For all I know, she could be just as uncomfortable as I am now. And it doesn't take a social genius to deduce that.
"You already know what I want."
I recoil from her touch, showing her my puzzled expression. No, no I don't know, if I knew I wouldn't have asked. Still, I kept that outburst to myself.
"Your name, mister…."
She intensified her purring while stepping towards my side. Thankfully, she got the 'no touching' memo. Yet she insists on playing her games. If all she wanted was my name, she would have just asked.
"…Unless… maybe you'd prefer if I kept calling you that… mister."
Her last word was whispered upwards, directed into my ear. I could feel her breath on it, yet, instead of arousal like she intended, all I felt was discomfort.
"Enough. I mean no offense when I say this, but I hold no sexual or romantic attraction towards you. So please, spare us both the embarrassment."
The girl's mischievous spirit seemed to leave her as she lets out a disappointed sigh. She steps back, finally withdrawing from my personal space.
"Alexander. Tis my name."
She seems to ponder something for a moment, before finally responding.
"Chloe. Once again, thank you, I really mean it."
She seems to be sincere, then again, she has proven to be rather crafty. But I'll choose to extend an olive branch, and trust she is being honest this time.
"Mind revealing what you wished of me? I may only assume you were keen on… befriending me for my restorative ability."
I saw her tail and ears slightly straighten for but a moment. Her gaze nervously shifted sideways as she rocked her feet a little.
"Well… it wouldn't hurt to be close to someone with your talents."
I lightly shake my head. It makes me uncomfortable that someone so young would just throw herself at me like that, even if she never planned to go through with it.
"Is that all? Then you will be content to know my cousin tends a medicant store."
Confusion. Ok, maybe I need to dial it back a little on the fancy speech.
"My relative runs a free hospital of sorts. He is a far better spellcaster than I. He generally tends to the poor and destitute, but that simply comes with the area. Have you a map?"
She gave me a court nod, pulling out a folded map from her ridiculous shorts. I unfold it and point to Gail's location.
"Here. If you are ever in need of medicinal aid, you may visit us. Spell healing is free, and so is the bed, if you're an active patient. I do not know much of my cousin's business, but I believe most of anything is free of cost."
Chloe bounced on her heels, retrieving her map and folding it back up.
"Not much of a business if everything is free."
I hold back a chuckle.
"Take it up with him, then. Regardless, I have lingered long enough. Until we meet again."
And with that, I make my way out of the alley, starting on the path back home. All the while feeling the cat girl's gaze upon my back.
/********/
Chloe enters the scene.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully, I managed to keep younger Chloe mostly in character.
Slow chapter this time around as I didn't get to add all I wanted. Hopefully I will be able to provide next chapter soon, but it is unlikely.
We get to see some inner struggles from Alexander, as he realized he rushed some decisions he probably should've taken his time on. Aside from that, he learns more about the state of Orario, goes shopping, and meets two characters you're all probably familiar with.
This time I don't have much to say so… yeah, that's it.
BleatingWail.