Valde Incompertus Silva
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 1: Porro Iter itineris Adventum
"To conquer the Yggdrasil Labyrinth." She said.
Eurydice Alexandra Katarn.
A Shield Maiden of the Order of the Crimson Phoenix. A Holy Knight.
The daughter of a farmer, she had often watched the knights that patrolled the countryside, secretly wishing that she could grow up to be just like them. As she grew older, she began to notice the peculiarity that the vast majority of those knights happened to be male.
Upon mentioning this to her father, he had shrugged, saying that it was the way things were. Not to say there hadn't been female knights of great renown, but by and large women weren't the sort who ran off to join the army.
Eurydice proved herself an exception. After joining and completing her training, she had officially been knighted by the king of the land, being granted the title of a Shield Maiden.
Of course, it had been shortly after that that the kingdom had been overrun by foreign invaders, the king disposed off, and the knights scattered.
For several years she'd lived as a wanderer, using her skills as a knight to earn a living among the countrysides. Of course, one thing that ragged on her was that whenever they first learned that she was a knight, there would be the "Oh, really." and the raised eyebrow.
Of course she was a knight! If the armour wasn't enough of a giveaway, then what about her shield? Her sword? Just because she was a woman, she wasn't allowed bear arms? Was that it?
One of these days, I'll… I'll… She had always thought. Of course, she had never acted on her impulses. If she had, then she wouldn't really be deserving of her title of a Protector, after all.
As she had wandered, she had heard the tales of the Yggdrasil Labyrinth, of how no man had ever managed to plunge into its innermost depths. The challenge intrigued her, certainly. She'd made a career out of doing things that typical people didn't do, after all.
Of course, if she ever managed to conquer the Labyrinth, she'd make a name for herself, and for women in general. No longer would they be looked upon as the 'weaker gender' simply because.
Of course, one snag in that plan was that if she was simply a side member to a guild, she ran the risk of being dismissed as a 'support' who hadn't really done much.
To her, it was clear. The only recourse was to start her own guild, with her as the leader. That way she could ensure that her role in it could not be marginalized or sidelined.
She stood, staring confidently at the Guildmaster.
He grinned at her. "Ha! You've got spirit, if nothing else." He winked at her with his one remaining eye. "So, if you're really intent on starting your own guild, what'll the name be?"
She nodded once. "I was thinking Explorer."
"It's already the name of the whole shebang." The Guildmaster shrugged. "The Explorer's Guild oversees all the sub-guilds. I mean, technically there's nothing wrong with naming it Explorer, but it could get a mite confusing, you know."
"Fine." She paused, pursing her lips. "Paragon."
"Paragon it is!" Guildmaster chuckled. "Nice, strong sounding name!"
Eurydice hesitated, folded her arms. "So, do I start recruiting, or…"
"Well, you could always walk into a bar and yell that you've started a guild and are accepting all comers, but I think you'll want to trim the fat just a little more than that."
"Huh." Eurydice paused, her sapphire eyes narrowing. "Posters are a good way of getting interest, right?"
"Well, depends on where you post 'em, but in general, I'd say yes."
Eurydice nodded and turned. "I'll get back to you on those guildmembers of mine…" She mumbled as she headed out the door.
"Lookin' forward to it!" The Guildmaster called after her. As she departed, he flipped a coin up in the air, snagging it effortlessly.
"She's got eyes of a hunter, that one." He chuckled as he held the single en up to the sunlight. "Don't let me down, lass. I'll be expecting great things from you."
Over the next couple of weeks, talk had begun to spread about a newcomer starting up a guild – and that any who wished to apply had only to bring one of the recruitment posters to the Guild's office.
Lash had grinned with excitement upon hearing this news – it wasn't everyday that such a golden opportunity fell onto his lap. Draining his latest drink, he'd left the pub, off to search for wherever a poster had been left up.
He quickly found a gaggle of toughs clustered around a wall, all of them seemingly arguing over who was going to be the one to grab the paper hanging there.
Lash leaned back against aforementioned wall, whistling to himself as he watched the arguing degenerate into a brawl. The majority of those arguing didn't look skilled enough to wield a weapon without taking out their own eye in the process. And of course, he'd lay long odds on any of them ever having set foot into the Labyrinth.
In a matter of moments, the poster appeared to have been forgotten in lieu of punching the other guy in as many spots as you could. Suppressing an urge to roll his eyes, Lash calmly walked forward and snagged the poster from off the wall, quickly rolling it up into a neat bundle.
"Ey!"
He turned, brushing a strand of dark blue hair out of his eyes. A burly looking man stood behind him, a dagger in hand. "Gimme that poster! I'm gonna take it!"
Lash grinned fiercely. "You think so? It says they only want the best of the best, you know."
Obviously not accustomed to debate, the man lunged, knife flashing in the early morning light. Lash sidestepped the stab, whip already unfurling.
Crack!
The thug cursed and grabbed his injured hand while Lash lashed out with his whip a second time, dragging the fallen dagger back to him.
"I'll be taking your little pocket knife as payment for wasting my time." The Dark Hunter informed him coolly before departing.
The thug glowered angrily at him, but otherwise did nothing to further impede the dark haired warrior.
Vante 'Lash' Simern.
He'd grown up in the slums of Terghan, the capital city of the proud country of Findra. Lacking the natural brawn and build of his compatriots, and thus he'd been forced to rely on his agility and wits to sustain him.
On dry nights, he'd sit on the rooftop of the ramshackle apartment shared by him, his mother, and three other families, glaring angrily at the palatial homes surrounding the Imperial Keep. The near constant rush of parties, processions and performances always ensured the upper-crust regions were brightly lit, and easily spotted for miles around.
He would sit, silent, staring, seething. What right did they have to live on the lap of luxury while so many more people were eking out the barest of livings in the filth and squalor of the slums.
Damn them all. It wasn't right.
As he'd aged, he'd continued to learn and train himself, gaining strength behind his muscles to add to his speed and skill, such that, when his mother passed on and left him on his own, he was able to sustain himself on a passable (if not comfortable) living by performing any variety of odd jobs.
In his mind, though, burned a single flaring through, capable of sending him into a brooding rage whenever he let it linger in his mind.
Irrelevance.
No matter how hard he worked, no matter how much he earned, no matter what he did… as long as he stayed here, he would be unknown, unacknowledged.
Some of his peers (if one could use such a word of them) seemed to accept that fact. The harsh conditions had apparently broken them – they were concerned merely with surviving, with pulling in enough to fund their next meal.
Not him. What wore down the others only served to fuel his burning desire to achieve something, to make a name for himself.
As he grew, he began to take note of some soldiers that entered and left the city. They didn't bear the insignias of the court, but whenever they marched to a battle (and there was no shortage of those), they marched alongside those who were quite obviously the king's men.
They were called mercenaries, he later learnt – men whose blades belonged to the highest bidder. Some of them had earned renown and fame on the battlefield on the basis of their strength.
To the young ears of Vante, that sounded wonderful. He could see a path out of the life of irrelevance and mediocrity he was currently stuck. That goal in mind, he began to push himself ever harder, doing everything he could to ensure that when the time came for him to prove himself, he would not fail.
It came sooner than anticipated. At the age of fifteen, he'd inadvertently upset one of mercenaries who had spent the better part of the evening imbibing vast quantities of alcohol. In his drunken rage, he'd grabbed a bottle he'd emptied a few minutes ago, threatening to crack open the young vagabond's skull.
Ten seconds later, he was lying on the floor, bleeding heavily from his nose, with Vante carefully massaging a sore knuckle. The rest of the mercenary troupe had exploded from their seating positions with a roar, ready to start what was certain to be an explosive barroom brawl.
A harsh reprimand from the head of the mercenary band quickly sent the others back to their seats, subdued but still glaring at the youth.
Of course, leaders were made leaders for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the ability to spot new blood and figure that he wouldn't be a bad addition to the crew.
Vante was officially the newbie of the band, and his cut of the pay revealed that simple fact. Of course, now he actually had some experienced fighters to pick up tips from, and there was the entire aspect of finally being liberated from Terghan made this arrangement almost more than Vante had ever dreamed possible.
He'd quickly found an affinity with whips. The ability to lash out like a cobra, striking and immobilizing the opponent at precise locations was always something he'd enjoyed. Some rudimentary sword skills, too – any mercenary worth his salt should know how to wield a sword.
For a while, he'd thought he'd found his lot in life. He'd survived a his fair share of scrapes, and his relentless drive to succeed quickly elevated him through the ranks, despite his lack of years. He had a natural tendency towards reticence, which the other members apparently mistook for maturity. Well, not his problem.
Of course, things had come to a rather messy end when the band had been hired to out down a peasant rebellion near the Ruk coast. They dealt with the inexperienced villagers easily enough, but apparently the noble who'd hired them wasn't satisfied. He wanted to make an example out of the incident. And that entailed eradicating the village from which the uprising had spawned. Every last man, woman and child.
While the majority had groused about the job, none of them had given the impression that they were going to do anything other than obey the nobleman's commands to the letter. Vante, meanwhile, had simply sat there, silent, while the rest of them continued their nightly drinking sessions.
He never had much in the way of morals, but what he did have he stuck to. And there was no way in hell he was going to hurt children or women. Of course, he'd no intention of simply upping and leaving the band. A member welshing out on a contract was a bad mark on any mercenary band, and Vante had no intention of leaving them blacklisted – they'd done right by him, after all.
Two nights before they were to set out for their target, the band found Vante's letter of resignation on a table. The next morning, they found the nobleman's body, strangled to death by a length of thick cord.
Of course, he'd instantly become a wanted man within Findra's borders, but it had been little trouble to hitch a ride over to neighbouring countries where they had no jurisdiction.
He'd taken up the life of a wandering adventurer, but his dream to be known – carved into history – had never faded.
Of course, rumours of the unconquered Yggdrasil Labyrinth had long since been floating around, but in recent times it seemed to have started to gain a mythical aura about it – that anyone who could conquer the vast forest would become… well, a legend.
That thought had appealed to Vante. And soon after, he'd shoulder his rucksack and departed once more – his destination the town of Etria.
"…"
Her eyes narrowed as she watched the people streaming by, most of them animatedly discussing something about recruitment.
Something about a newcomer starting up a guild…Silently, she stood, emerging back into the sunlight. A moment's hesitation and she donned a green felt cap across her messy brown hair, one that helped cover a nasty scar across her forehead.
There was a poster hanging on the wall, slightly torn but in relatively good shape. Stepping in front of it, she quickly scanned the basics.
There was a sigh. Most of the established guilds weren't interested in hiring newcomers – she'd learnt this rather quickly – and so if she wanted to reenter the Labyrinth… well, this would be her best bet.
Silently, she peeled the poster off the wall, rolling it up and stepping away.
She didn't know exactly why she had such a drive to plunge into the Yggdrasil Labyrinth, but she did, and frankly, it seemed the best way to try to piece together her shattered memory.
With a nod of determination, she stepped forward to the guildmaster's office.
He stood there, arms folded, mentally sizing up the competition.
Most of them seemed skilled in hitting things with their fists, various blunt objects, and not much else. He supposed there was a market somewhere for this sort of thing, but Quark Teknon fervently hoped his potential employer wasn't that sort of person. Firstly, because it would pretty much wreck the magic-wielder's chances of getting a position within the guild, and secondly because Quark had no interest in joining up with such a leader anyway.
The founder of this guild didn't know it yet, but it would be as much of a test for him as it would be for a Quark.
... A test for her. He amended as he proceeded along the queue and noted that the person sitting at the desk was a blonde-haired woman. Judging by her expression, she was rapidly becoming very frustrated with the applicants, and they appeared to be being dismissed at an increasingly rapid pace.
He tucked his hands into his pockets, waiting patiently for his turn.
Finally, it came. The woman barely lifted her eyes from her papers. "If your fighting style can be summarized into 'beating things with clubs, knives, and various other implements easily procured from a messy bar room', then thank you for coming, but-"
"As it so happens, that does not summarize my fighting style." He said softly.
"Oh!." She hesitated. "Good. Name, please?"
"…Quark Teknon."
"Primary method of fighting?"
"Magic. Poison and Volt formulae, specifically."
"Okay…" Eurydice hastily scribbled a couple of notes. "Prior battle experience?"
"…"
"Nothing?" Eurydice lifted her eyes from her paper.
"Served as a Royal Mage… in the court of King Firionel."
The wince on her face was barely perceptible. "Hm… guess that means you're pretty skilled," she mumbled. "He's been in more wars than most any other king in the past few decades."
"…Won most of them, too." Quark said listlessly. "I assume you would have firsthand experience of this… Knight of Cestior." His eyes flitted to the insignia on her shield, lying against the wall.
"…" Eurydice shook her head. "What's done is done. Report back here tomorrow at noon – I wish to see a demonstration of your battle capabilities."
"Understood."
As the day continued, Eurydice was becoming in serious danger of losing her temper.
It seemed that the majority of the applicants attempting a signup had no idea of the basics of combat, beyond the fact that it was probably a good thing if your opponent wasn't moving any more. The relative few that did seemed skilled likewise seemed miffed that they would be serving under a woman, and she had summarily dismissed them with a few curt words – she'd be better off without people like them on her team.
Of course, this meant that she was reduced down to a single person of any potential. And entering the Labyrinth with only one person covering her back didn't strike her as particularly appealing.
"Yo."
She glanced up. A youth grinned down at her, his pale blue hair partially obscuring his eyes. "Heard you needed some skilled fighters."
"I do indeed." She said gamely enough. "Some basic details?"
"I fight with a whip." The lad shrugged. "If you need someone to vouch for me, try asking Valerie down at the pub."
"Demonstrating the best of your skills in a pub would seem to be more of a black mark on your record than anything else."
The lad nodded once, and flicked his arm out.
FWIP!
As he pulled back, Eurydice's own arm lashed out, her hand snagging onto her coin purse midway between the both of them. He grinned down at her.
"Nice reflexes, sister."
Eurydice stared at him coldly. "You've got the skills. However, you make a lousy first impression." She relieved him of her purse and returned it to her belt.
"Got all the time in the world to work on that." He folded his arms. "So, am I in or what?"
"We'll see. Report back here at noon tomorrow. Name?"
"Vante Simern… you can call me Lash."
"Next."
As she heard the call and stepped forward, her potential leader glanced up.
"You look like you've seen some action." The blonde-haired noted.
Suddenly self-conscious, she noted the number of half-healed scars across her bare arms, with one more showing up across her bare midriff. Not trusting herself to words, she merely nodded.
"I'm a bowfighter." She said softly.
"Hm. Could use someone like that." Eurydice nodded. "Prior battle experience?"
"I've… been into the Labyrinth before."
"Hmm… can I get a reference from the other guild?"
The other guild… Atropos… She closed her eyes. "It… no longer exists."
"Disbanded?"
"Something like that." No need to let others in on what happened. It's my own fight.
"Hmm…" Eurydice frowned for a moment. "Okay, we'll see about you. Report back here tomorrow at noon. Can I have your name?"
She cringed. A name? She hadn't had time to think of one.
She squeezed her eyes shut, one hand reaching up to clutch her brain as she tried to force it out. She'd known it once, long ago… Why wouldn't it come to her now?
Then, slowly, slowly, letters began to form in her mind.
"M…" She mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"Mi…" She grimaced. She was stuck. Nothing more…
"TSSEEEEEEEER!"
Instinctively, she glanced up, catching sight of a proud hawk soaring high overhead.
"Hawk…" She whispered. Then her eyes narrowed as focus was returned to the world about her.
"Your name?" The woman prompted again.
"…Mihawk." She finally said.
Mihawk. That moniker would serve for now… until her memory decided to be less stubborn and yield up the secrets of her past.
"Ya sign up a good crew? If you didn't give it some thought, you'll regret it later." The Guildmaster grinned.
"One can only hope my judgment was astute enough." Eurydice muttered. "We'll have more to discuss tomorrow."
"Well, time to pack up, then. Here, I'll help you."
"Thanks."
After swiftly clearing out everything, the both of them went their separate ways, each preoccupied with their own tasks and duties.
All was silent. Then there was the soft patter of feet.
"Um, excuse me? I – I'm Cassandra Hoffman and I'm here to apply for the new guild…" Cassandra entered the plaza, glancing hesitantly about at the empty space. "Huh? I was sure this was the right place… Am I too early?"
Twang.
Thok!
Eurydice nodded in appreciation. Fifteen shots, fifteen bullseyes. She'd not judged Mihawk wrongly, after all.
"Hey, sister!"
She turned to see Vante – Lash – strolling up to her. "Not late, am I?"
"As a matter of fact, you are. By seven minutes." Eurydice shrugged. "Not to worry, though. Your competition's even later."
His eyes narrowed, although the self-confident smirk never wavered. "Competition?"
"Of course. I'm not going to go around hiring people on the basis of their abilities as pickpockets." Eurydice flashed a tiny grin. "Speak of the devil…"
A muscular, dark skinned man stepped up, eyes flashing dangerously. "This here pipsqueak's my matchup?"
"Probably." Eurydice replied with a nonchalant air. "You happen to know where the rest of the potentials are?"
The man smiled, revealing probably the worst set of teeth the Shield Maiden had ever laid eyes on. "They decided to stay home." He sneered.
It was only then that Eurydice noticed a dark smear of what strongly resembled blood down the front of the man's jacket. She nodded wanly. "That simplifies things."
"So, we playing for keeps or what?" Lash questioned as he unfurled his whip.
"I don't want the Radha hounding me." Eurydice said. "If possible, leave your opponent in a position to walk away from the fight when it's all over."
"Ha! That might be difficult." The man snorted.
"We'll see." Was the only reply from the Shield Maiden. "Go."
The two of them exploded into action, with the brawnier man drawing a gleaming saber. With a roar of challenge, he charged Lash, waving his weapon above his head.
By contrast, the dark hunter stood his ground, whip hanging loosely at his side. Just as his foe was about to come within sword-strike range, Lash's left arm blurred.
He skipped nimbly to the side as his opponent collapsed, howling in pain.
"Draw my weapon early, and of course you'd be focused on it." Lash grinned. "You were so focused on the whip you failed to spot me drawing my dagger." He reached over and yanked the gleaming implement from where it had pierced the man's leg. "I win."
"…Impressive." Eurydice said softly. "I suppose you'll make a good addition to the crew, then."
I've already got Mihawk signed up, now Lash too… but where's Quark? Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Lash's opponent struggling to his feet.
"The fight's over. You weren't good enough." She said smoothly. "Better luck next time."
"Never!" The man's eyes flared dangerously and he drew a hand-axe, one well designed for throwing. "The job's mine!"
"Hey, hey!" Eurydice snapped, her sword already halfway out of her sheathe. "Calm down!"
Nevertheless, he drew his arm back, and Eurydice growled deep in her throat as she prepared to knock away the weapon.
"Is quisnam offendo amo levitas , permissum vultur rudo ex suus manuum." There was a soft murmur, words that Eurydice barely caught, and suddenly the entire plaza was illuminated to a nigh-unbearable intensity.
When the glow faded, the man was once more lying on the ground, unconscious, a bloody gash trailing up his right arm.
"Efficient – if a little messy." Eurydice mumbled. "Nice work, Quark. Powerful spell you've got there."
"…" The dark haired mage settled for a nod. "Standard Volt formula. Slightly modified, though."
Meanwhile, Mihawk, who remained silent for the whole session, spoke up. "Is that all of us?"
"…Yeah. I was hoping for a medic, but a suitable one didn't show up yesterday." Eurydice pursed her lips. "For now, I suppose we can make do with supplies from the Ceft Apothecary."
"Four of us, taking on the greatest Labyrinth known to man? Doesn't sound too feasible." Lash chuckled.
"We'll add more as time goes on. There's got to be better blood in this town than the washouts we've run into." She shook her head. "Anyway, you – all of you, are in. Meet me at the stone marker at the Labyrinth's entrance tomorrow at dawn."
"Nice of you to accompany me, Mihawk." Eurydice commented as she stepped through the doorway of the Ceft Apothecary.
"It's fine… I don't have much else to do anyway." The archer replied softly as she glanced around the area. It was filled with row after row of medicine, most of it bearing funny names she'd never heard before – at least she didn't remember ever hearing them before. Not quite the same thing.
The entrance to the Apothecary had been constructed without doors, and without any of the steps that usually marked the entrances of other buildings as large as this one, the reasoning being that they should do whatever they could to make moving critically injured people into the apothecary that much easier.
As they approached the counter, an elderly gentleman stepped up to them. "Good evening to you, ladies. What do you need?"
Eurydice smiled. "Five medicas, please."
"Very well…" The man turned, grabbing the necessary medicines. "You seem new around these parts." He mentioned to Eurydice.
"Yes… I just reached this town a couple of weeks ago. First trip to the Labyrinth tomorrow morning, too." The Shield Maiden chuckled. "You probably end up seeing a lot more of me."
"Hm… Your first trip to the Labyrinth? Then you must be that new guild that just set up shop. Paragon, was it?"
"Yes, indeed."
The man hesitated. "You have a medic on your team? If you're going into the Labyrinth, I'd strongly recommend having one. Medicines can only do so much, after all."
"We were looking for one." Eurydice mumbled. "The right candidate just hasn't shown up yet."
"Ah…" The aged man's face crinkled up into a smile. "I happen to know a Medic looking for a guild to join. You interested?"
"Why not?" Eurydice smiled.
The man turned, calling into an anteroom. "Cassandra! Could you come out for a minute?"
There was the sound of running feet, and a young girl with orange hair peered out from behind the doorway, an inquisitive smile on her face. "Yeah, gramps? What did you need me for?" When she noticed the visitors, she quickly bowed her head in a show of respect.
"This here is Cassandra Hoffman – my granddaughter." Dr. Hoffman explained. "She's a trained medic – and she's looking for a guild that'll take her. So? What do you say?"
Mihawk noticed the look of hesitation on her leader's face. "She looks… rather young."
"I'll be fifteen in a month!" Cassandra chirped brightly.
"…" Eurydice shook her head. "Sorry, I can't put someone so young in danger – to say nothing of the fact that my teammates will be depending on her for patching up of wounds. She's still too young – too inexperienced."
Mihawk's eyes darted over to the girl – a shadow of blank disappointment had already fallen on her face.
Meanwhile, Dr. Hoffman nodded. "Inexperienced, you say." He frowned. "I don't think you're very experienced in dealing with the Labyrinth either."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Eurydice countered. "At the very least, I've seen combat. I know how to take care of myself."
"Hm. And when was the first time you ever got into a battle, may I ask?"
Mihawk noticed that Eurydice blanched at the question. "Wh – what's it to you?" She stammered.
"Well…" The doctor removed his glasses and began polishing them. "You've a Cestian accent in your voice – that and the way you carry yourself indicates you're a Cestian knight. Now, the country went under several years ago, so if you really saw combat on the frontlines, you would've been fifteen… no, sixteen at most. You're twenty five years of age now, are you not?"
"Twenty three." She growled.
"My, that changes things a bit. You were fourteen when commissioned as a Protector!" Dr. Hoffman smiled craftily as he replaced his spectacles over his eyes. He had the Shield Maiden trapped, and he knew it.
Eurydice, meanwhile, was seeing red. "Enough!" She snapped. "She's not joining our guild! End of story!" Mihawk noted that Cassandra had slinked off somewhere, probably back into whatever room she had come from.
Dr. Hoffman sighed elaborately. "Well, if you insist. Good luck in finding a worthy Medic, then. Now, your order…" He held up a bundle of five bottles tightly wrapped together.
Eurydice stretched her hand out and took hold of it. "How much do we owe you?"
"Hm – let's see. Five bottles of medica solution at fifty en a bottle – that leaves us with two hundred and fifty-"
"Fifty en?" Eurydice demanded, one hand slamming the table. "Are you mad? That's over twice the market rate for a medica! This is daylight robbery!"
Dr. Hoffman frowned. "Well, what with the constant flow of travelers in and out of the Labyrinth, demand for medicines is at an all time high. If you want to keep costs down, you'd best find a good Medic."
Mihawk couldn't deny that she was deriving a fair bit of amusement from watching her leader's face turn purple with rage as Dr. Hoffman just barely winked at her.
"Think your options over." Dr. Hoffman continued, the ghost of a smile on his face. "In the meantime, two hundred and fifty en, please."
The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the horizon as Lash made his way to the Labyrinth entrance.
He wasn't too surprised to see Quark there already, leaning against a tree for support.
"You got everything prepared?" He called out to the silent Alchemist. He was received with a nod, and took it to mean that Quark wasn't much interested in conversation.
The tramp of boots alerted him to the arrival of newcomers, and he turned to herald the arrival of the others.
"Mornin', boss!" He called out cheerfully. "So, I know this girl down at one of the equipment shops – she gave me a few sweet deals on some of the stuff she stocks – she tells us she'll give us the best prices for whatever we need! Got us a few pieces of gear on the cheap."
"That's great." Eurydice nodded, distracted. Clad in full battle armour that reflected the burning orange of the morning sun, she looked appropriately powerful. Behind her was Mihawk, clad in a green tunic that gave her freedom of movement. A thin scarf was wound around her soldiers, and in her maroon shorts was tucked a hunting dagger.
The girl behind them though…
"And who's that?" Lash questioned as he pointed at the orange-haired youth.
"Oh." Eurydice swallowed, and Lash got the funny feeling that she was attempting to keep her feelings in check. "I… found us… a medic."
Something was definitely fishy, but Lash noted Mihawk shaking her head 'no' behind Eurydice, and the Dark Hunter shrugged. It could always wait for another time.
"Everyone ready?" Eurydice called. "Last checks on all equipment! I want no complaints once we're inside the Labyrinth!"
Cassandra watched hesitantly as the other busied themselves with preparations. Having been granted the benefit of a relatively sheltered life, she was patently unsure as to how to communicate with the rest of the gang – all of whom seemed to be more experienced than she was in this matter (and on an order of magnitude, no less).
She sighed as she remembered her conversation with her grandfather last night – after Eurydice had grudgingly accepted her into the guild.
"Gramps… thanks for getting me accepted into the guild. But… I'm not sure… I don't think that Eurydice likes me."
"Maybe, maybe not." Dr. Hoffman paused as he looked up from the tome he had been studying. "But in the end, if don't trust you, or your skills…" He smiled gently. "Then do what you can to earn that trust. And trust heaven to set things right."
"Yo, Medigirl!" The call startled her from her reverie. Glancing around, she realized that everyone else was ready and staring expectantly at her. "You ready?"
"Y-yes! Good to go!" Clutching her oak stuff tightly, she quickened her pace to catch up with the rest of her crew.
Medigirl… she rolled that name around in her mind. What the hey, she decided with a mental shrug. It's got a nice ring to it.
End Chapter
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