Wintergreen I
[Arne Sawyer]
He gulped, sharing a look with his wife as the both of them sat at the dinner table. It was small and simple, but sturdy, like anything he'd ever made. There was just enough space for his family to eat, like it had become a tradition in the Sawyer family. Everytime the number of members changed, a new dining table would be made.
Arvid had helped Arne make this one, after his father passed away.
And now, despite only being for three people, it looked massive to him then and there, with the empty spot that was now left. Arne couldn't not look at the empty chair across from them, even though it filled his chest with a cold and painful feeling. No matter what, however, he refused to make a new table. Because his son wasn't dead. His son was out there, somewhere, and maybe, just maybe, he would come back one day.
Arne wouldn't have his son come back to a table for two people.
He refused.
After what he'd put his own child through, Arne could resist having to sit at a table for three with only two people. He could do that much while he prayed and hoped that Arvid would one day occupy that empty chair once more. That was all he could do.
Pray, hope and wait.
"I'm ready," Aina sniffed, rubbing a finger under her eye to wipe off a tear. Then Arne saw her visibly steel her nerves as she picked up the letter that had arrived for them. A letter that neither had dared to open, because there were only two people out of Wintergreen that would write to them and both of them meant the same thing.
Arvid.
Slowly, ever so slowly, at least in Arne's opinion, his wife opened the envelope and took out two pieces of paper from inside. One of them had them blinking and looking at it curiously, but neither paid it too much attention. Instead, they turned towards the other piece. After all…
It held Arvid's writing.
'Dear mom and dad,' he read, not knowing if it meant something that his son still called them 'mom and dad' instead of 'Arne and Aina'. The sole fact that he didn't know that was enough to break his heart all over again. 'The trip is… certainly an experience. First town out of Wintergreen, in Willowherb, Saul and I got an unofficial job to help a merchant. He'd been attacked by a pack of Jagras and wanted some help getting the things that might still be there. Turns out it was a pack of outcasts. Saul and I took care of them easily enough, don't worry.'
'Don't worry,' his idiot of a son said. Arne didn't have to look at her to see Aina's horrified expression. She had never liked when they had to help with monsters around the village, and that was with a lot more people to help. Still, Arne felt a smile tug at his lips all the same.
'I'm kind of glad about that, helped get more out of that merchant,' his son added, making him chuckle. That was his son alright. All polite and sweet… until he had to do business. If Arvid was determined to get something, nobody would out-talk him.
Evidenced by the fact that he was away, he reminded himself, his mood dampening once more.
'And then I got robbed in Sharon, which… not my proudest moment, I gotta say. I was a… country bumpkin, Saul called me. That sucked, I'll admit,' Arne read then, frowning and having to hold back from tightening either the hand holding the letter and the one around his wife. 'Saul and I had to do a job to get enough money so we could keep going. It was fun. We helped an alchemist clean a stain that he couldn't get rid of for some reason. It turned out to be some kind of liquid monster that kept regenerating when the alchemist managed to clean it. Not sure what the thing was, but it was definitely weird.'
At that, Arne blinked.
'I sent you a copy of the quest paper. I just… I guess I wanted to show it to you,' Arne read, finally turning his attention towards the other piece of paper. Picking it up, sure enough, he saw the information there regarding the job his son had done. A proper mage job and the pay was great. He did have to wonder if it was as simple as his son had made it sound. Monsters were no joke, after all…
'But Arvid is a mage now,' he reminded himself, pursing his lips.
Ultimately, he continued reading.
'We are on the last stretch now and I… I miss you. That's the main reason why I'm writing,' Arvid's letter said and Arne could almost see how the slower writing changed the way text looked. 'I guess the next letter will tell you if I succeeded or if I had to drag Saul to some other Guild. Would it be too much to ask for you to wish me luck? Because I'm kind of nervous, I'll admit. Either way… I'll write to you later. With love, Arvid.'
'PS: I hope business isn't too much now that I'm not around to help out. I can try to send some money home to make up for that once I start regularly taking jobs,' Arne let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a sob at that last part. Of course his stupid, too-nice-for-his-own-good son would worry about helping them even when he'd literally run away. 'Is he trying to kill me with kindness?' Arne had to wonder.
When he was done with the letter, he gulped down the knot in his throat and blinked repeatedly. Turning towards his wife, he saw her looking at him already done. She was always a much quicker reader than him. Then again, he wouldn't be too surprised if he'd read slower than usual. It had been… certainly an emotional ride.
"Our boy, Arne," she said, somewhere between sad and proud. "Our boy is out there, doing mage jobs," she added, picking up the quest paper and looking it over. "He's a mage."
"He sure is," he agreed, his voice sounding strange to his ears.
"He doesn't think we'll wish him luck," Aina added and this time there was no mistaking the sadness and pain there. He was right there with her. It hurt so much, to know that their son didn't believe they supported him anymore. It was a stab right to his heart to know that Arvid didn't think they cared anymore now that he was away. As if they could stop caring so easily.
"He doesn't," he agreed once more, letting go of the letter and balling his hand into a fist. "Silly boy."
Of course they'd wish him luck. There was nothing else that mattered more than their son, little Arvid, succeeding. If only he could have shown that to his child. Arne would forever regret failing like that, but what he could do was try not to fail anymore.
'Guess there's something else to pray for now,' he thought, looking at the last part of his son's letter. Because damn it if Arne didn't wish the next letter was his son telling them, so excited that his immaculate writing was ruined, that he had succeeded, had gotten in. Any Guild could only be so lucky to have a Sawyer in it, let alone Arvid. If the Gods and whoever was in charge of recruitment had any sense, then Arne's son would get in, no doubt.
At that moment though, he turned towards the quest paper and back at the letter. Maybe there was something he could do besides praying, to feel less like a failure. He certainly needed to do something to keep himself occupied and not remembering that his son wasn't in Wintergreen anymore.
At least it'd help make the wait for the next letter easier, he supposed.
[}-o-{]
[Rushia Lambent]
"Hey, mom.
I'm doing alright. We killed an alchemist smoothie and some Jagras. We'll be taking the train to Magnolia with Arvid in an hour. Bye.
Love, Saulus.
Ps: Tell Olmert that if he meets a merchant called Fergus, not to buy his stuff."
Olmert read the contents of the letter with a wry smile and a snort.
"Really? That's it? Was he trying to write a letter or a fortune cookie?… Also, what is with the smoothie thing?… Also… Fergus?" her oldest son questioned increasingly more bewildered at the lack of context.
"Oh, hush now. You know Saulie isn't one for letters, it is a miracle that he sent anything at all," Rushia said, slapping her eldest in the arm as they all sat at the table together.
It was always a delight when Olmert came to visit. She knew it was hard for him given the amount of work he had at Crocus, but somehow her firstborn still found the time to visit his old mother at Wintergreen at least twice a year with all his family. Rushia was glad she had prepared some cookies beforehand. Her grandchildren loved them.
It was a shame that Saul missed their visit, but she hadn't wanted to tell him that they were coming in case he used that as an excuse to stay.
"Is that alright?" asked the woman sitting next to her son, Stella, Olmert's wife. She was the same pretty young lady that Rushia had first met, with her long luscious blonde hair and her crystal blue doe-like eyes. "You haven't seen him in more than a week right? And it is his first trip. I would expect that his letter would be a little more… detailed than this," she said with an unsure smile. Even after years she still hadn't gotten over the mother/daughter-in-law awkward phase.
The poor thing. She would learn, sooner or later.
"No, it's fine," Olmert said, waving his hand. The movement somehow came as refined with that fancy suit of his and his hair perfectly in place. He looked a bit out of place in her humble abode, which made Rushia feel a bit self-conscious. "Littlest bro has never been very good with words after all. He means what he says though, usually. He isn't complaining in his letter or whining about getting back. That is what I would usually expect from him. Instead, Mom got an 'I'm doing alright'. It seems that something caught his interest, right, mom?"
Olmert was as sharp as always. Rushia should be happy that all her children were born with that trait. However, it did make hiding stuff from them a nightmare when they were younger.
"I guess that is true. I just hope that he is taking care of himself out there. I know I am the one that pushed him to go, but I still worry, you know?" Rushia confessed while looking out the window.
The three children continued to play outside. She was glad her grandchildren enjoyed visiting her. She knew that Wintergreen wasn't exactly exciting compared to the capital.
Young Saul was a prime example of that.
They seemed to be doing alright though, thankfully, taking turns to climb the old oak tree on her lawn. She did hope that they wouldn't hurt themselves. Perhaps Rushia should stop them, but they seemed very happy with their games, so she couldn't bring herself to get in the way. She might be spoiling her grandchildren rotten, but it was only natural. She could only see them twice a year, after all.
"I am sure he is alright, ma'am. He is a mage after all, so I am sure he is doing just fine," Stella said, trying to be supportive.
"Yes, mom. I am sure he's fine. He's too lazy to get into trouble, after all," Olmert joked. "Besides, he's always welcome to work at one of my shops if the mage thing doesn't work out for him. The business is slowly picking up speed so I am sure I will find something for him to do there."
"Ah yes, your business. How are things going back at the capital?" she asked. Her little Olmert grew up to be such a hard worker. She was so proud of him. He pretty much opened his own business by himself when the rest of them had to move to Wintergreen.
He always had the mind for those kinds of things. Not many just started from nothing in the capital of all places and ended up with a business with multiple shops just a short decade later. He certainly didn't get it from her. No matter how much her family had wanted her to take charge of the firm, she just didn't have the talent for such things. He certainly didn't get it from Hansel. No, Olmert reminded her a little bit about her own dad in that respect, actually. As she thought that, a wave of shame and regret filled her.
"It has been going alright. Sales are going up because of the princess festival. I would probably have to return in a few days… Sorry. It won't be a long visit this time, but I'll make sure to come back during holy-"
"It's alright," Rushia said, trying to calm her son. "I understand that you are busy with your work. Don't let this old lady stop you from that, you should go and live your own life. It wouldn't do to get the oldest back here doing nothing just when I finally manage to kick the youngest out, no?" she joked trying to lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to work too much.
"... Are you sure you are alright, Mom? I can put off work a few more days if you need me here. Also, the offer from last time still stands, you know? You can come to Crocus with us if you want. Saul and Felix are traveling so there is no need for you to stay here anymore."
For a second, Rushia stopped and considered that offer.
The house had been so quiet in the short week Saul had been gone. He was never very talkative, but he was always there. Now, the house felt so… empty. The time she used to spend cleaning his room, washing his clothes, or tracking him through the mountains to make him do errands was now spent with her just twiddling her thumbs on her chair in silence.
It was true that she felt lonely and missed her baby. What mother wouldn't? But this was what was best for him. She had made the right choice, getting him out in the world and, perhaps, helping him heal the wounds Hansel had left.
"No, it's alright. I... I already started a life here. The neighbors and the people here are calm, and peaceful. It's something I have grown used to already. I don't think I would be able to handle Crocus anymore," Rushia admitted. "I don't want to get in the way of either of your lives, not after last time-"
"You did nothing wrong!" his son thundered instantly, making her jump in her seat.
Stella placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, a worried look on her face. The front door clicked and cracked slightly as Rushia's grandchildren poked their heads quietly to see what the commotion was about. A wave from their mother was all that was needed to placate them and return outside to continue to play their games.
"Sorry," Olmert said as he calmed down. "I- Things are different now, better. I can support you and Saul with what I earn now. It wouldn't end like last time. It's just a bit of extra work, but I won't shy away from that… I'm not like him," Olmert continued firmly. His words came with so much vitriol at the end that it broke Rushia's heart.
It reminded her that Saul wasn't the only one of her children that Hansel had hurt. She wasn't the only one with scars born from her mistake, she knew, but often forgot. Still, she couldn't let Olmert bury himself in work even more. He'd barely gotten better as of late, with his family and the passage of time.
"I know you can, but I like it here," Rushia said, not even having to lie… much. "You have your life, Olmert, and I have mine. I appreciate the offer though. It's very kind of you."
Olmert let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, completely ruining his immaculate hairstyle.
"Just think about it, okay?" he asked, clearly not taking her no as the last word. Different from business talent, stubbornness was something all of her family had in spades.
"You're always welcome, ma'am," Stella said. "Besides, the kids would love to see you more often. They are always asking if we can come visit Grandma for food. You could even teach me some of your recipes."
Rushia chuckled, taking the offer to change the mood for what it was. Bless the girl's heart. Olmert had found himself a good woman to marry indeed.
"Sure thing, dear. Why don't you help me make dinner, then? I can tell you some more stories about Olmert when he was a kid. He was so cute as a baby!"
"Wait! Stella, why don't you go to spend some time with the kids? I can help Mom with-" Olmert said quickly, trying to stop the inevitable.
The fool.
"Gladly, ma'am." Stella pretty much teleported to the kitchen and helped her make a nice dinner while Rushia regaled her daughter-in-law with the story of little toddler Olmert crying when he didn't get to be the mermaid princess during a school act.
His son, in the meantime, just surrendered himself to his fate, covering his face with his hands and groaning at every particularly embarrassing part. Her grandchildren seemed to have grown bored of the outside at some point too, starting to play tag inside the house.
Rushia smiled.
The house didn't feel as empty anymore.
She would miss them when they had to leave again, admittedly. For the moment, however, she would enjoy those precious moments with her family. She would never stop them from following their hearts, but it was always nice when they gifted her with their presence.
Rushia could only hope that Saul was having a good time wherever he was. And that one day he would return to her and tell her about his adventures with a smile on his face.
As a mother, it was all that she could ask for.
[}-o-{]
[Miko Yanagi]
The days were much duller now.
She couldn't help but resent Arvid and to a lesser extent Saul. Without them, Wintergreen seemed so… boring. In a way, she guessed that was how the carpenter's son had felt, even with her and Saul around. It was a little insulting, she guessed, but being able to understand softened the sting.
That was all it did, however, because Miko still felt like her days were so exceedingly slow. There was nothing to look forward to after her work at the inn was over. There would be no talks or hanging out or generally being an idiot with two other idiots. She wouldn't catch Saul being his lazy self somewhere in the village. Arvid wouldn't drop by for a meal after he was done working with his father.
All she had to look forward to were even duller hours where there wasn't even work to distract herself.
She had to persevere though.
And so she did.
Miko had filled that void in her life with training. Physical training and searching everywhere she could for clues on how to catch up with her friends. Because now that she was alone, she had even more reason to want to do so. She felt like she'd go mad if she had to stay in Wintergreen forever now, especially when her friends were out there, enjoying themselves.
Breathing was suddenly complicated after running around the village a few times. Her legs burned and his lungs wouldn't stop screaming at her while refusing to work properly. Sweat ran down her… everything, really, while making her clothes stick to her body.
She was just getting started.
Miko would need more than a strong body to catch up. She'd need an edge, maybe even a literal one. After reading the mess of a letter Arvid and Saul had sent her, she knew what waited for her out there if she wanted to walk the same path as them. Monsters and unknown dangers, that was what she got from it after having to decipher her way through the crossed-out text, contradicting messages in a single paper and Saul's lazy scrawling.
She couldn't just go and think that she'd have a nice time as if they were tourists. Arvid was still getting better with his wands and Saul's magic couldn't really handle big threats. If she went with them, Miko knew she'd be a liability. The both of them seemed to agree that they'd been kind of lucky so far, after all. Although, it was kind of funny that Arvid seemed to be looking forward to more "exciting" things while Saul dreaded them.
At the end of the day, she'd need to be better to accompany them in their adventures. That was the start and the end of it. Yet, while the path itself was crystal clear for her, it was the big chasm between start and finish that got in the way of her plans.
She could pour all her dedication and time into training her body up to the point of collapse, and Miko was more than determined to do exactly that. Yet, it was more than clear that even that wouldn't be enough to bridge the gap between her and her friends.
That gap was her lack of a magic container.
No matter how much one tried to deny it or pretend it wasn't a big deal. There was no hiding that not everyone was born equal. Namely, ten percent of the population held a big advantage over everyone else.
It wasn't just a difference in the fact that said people were able to use their particular brand of magic to turn the tide of any conflicts they found themselves in. No, that was the cherry on top. It was the simple privilege of possessing a magic container in the first place that already set them to be more than a regular person would ever be.
Their bodies, perhaps adapting themselves to the influx of Ethernano inside their bodies, developed almost instinctively on how to use it and empower their body with it.
What would be considered a marathon for a regular person, it was just a mild jog for a mage. The strength a grown man must spend their whole life cultivating could be casually matched by a child with moderately high Ethernano reserves. Wounds that would take months, if not years, to heal were merely inconveniences to the average mage who could heal from broken bones in less than a month with just some rest. All this was naturally achieved due to the grand privilege of possessing a magic container from birth.
It wasn't just the fact that they possessed the power of magic on their side that made them something normal humans wouldn't be able to match. It was true that the difference reached a hard limit after a certain point if the mage's natural magic wasn't particularly physically oriented, but that still left every single one of them at least super-human enough to crush rocks with their hands instead of mountains, on top of possessing a unique magic to themselves. Needless to say, the odds of a fight between a normal human, even a trained one, against even a mediocre middle-of-the-pack mage, were incredibly skewed in the latter's favor. Regular people had very little chances to fight on equal grounds with a mage.
And of course, that included Miko herself.
That left her wondering what she should do to catch up with her friends as she had promised.
Of course, there was always heavy artillery to take into account, but she doubted she could take a Jupiter Cannon inside her backpack every time she went on an adventure. Nor did she have a convenient cave filled to the brim with already processed and refined military-grade warfare Lacrimas to power it with.
Not that she would be able to use them even if she somehow came to have one or two of those. There was a reason they had the word "Military" in their classification, and it wasn't because you could buy them early in the morning through your local merchant.
Regular magical items wouldn't cut it. At least not the ones made for regular people that were powered by Lacrimas — more often than not, a lightning one. Even if she were to arm herself to the teeth with those things, she doubted she would be of much help when their friends started taking missions harder than the average low-level monster elimination.
Regular Lacrimas and magical artifacts were just inferior in every way to actual magic. Even holder magic artifacts that didn't possess Lacrimas and were instead powered by a mage's own power were far superior to those. Needless to say, the latter was not something she would be able to find a use for.
That only left Military-grade equipment, not dissimilar to what the Rune Knights and the Royal Army used. While still inferior in quality to the mages, enough of those artifacts stacked together in a single very talented person might be enough to make said person strong enough to match A-Class mages.
Who hadn't heard the tales of Arcadios who managed to even beat an S-Class mage and claim his current post as the Chief of the Cherry Blossom Holy Knight Squadron?
… She still couldn't believe that was the name of the position, admittedly.
Anyway, with that said, the number of people who had that level of talent, and the opportunity to gather that many magical artifacts of that caliber, could be counted with one's fingers throughout recorded history. Even then, one would probably have fingers left over.
Catching up with her friends never seemed as much of a daunting task as it was now that she had started reaching for it. Now that she stopped letting her dreams be dreams, and faced the reality of her goal, she felt the sheer madness of it. Yet, even with that, she wouldn't stop. Not only because she had made a promise to them. Not only because of her desire to see them again and stand as their equal.
No, she would do it for herself.
She had already given the first step, and she'll be damned if she stopped now. No matter how much it took, she would get there. Even if it took her a decade to make her body reach the utmost limit. Even if she knew that it took a literal fortune to afford those Lacrimas even for a single fight, she would find a way to make the money with a thousand side jobs if she had to. Even if it took her joining the army to get those military-grade items, she would be the first in line to enlist herself.
Because she wasn't going to stay in Wintergreen while her friends traveled the country and had adventures. Miko wanted to see the sights Arvid had detailed for her in their letter. She wanted to see the cities that Saul had narrated to them ever since they were kids. She wanted to see what Arvid's wands could do. She wanted to see what Saul could do when he actually tried. She wanted to do many things and she could do none of those in Wintergreen being the girl working at the inn.
No, she needed more than her village could give her.
Maybe it was because her friends weren't there anymore, she supposed. However, at times, she would wonder if that was really the case. Was she bored because they weren't there? Or was she always bored and it was now that she didn't have any distractions that she really noticed?
It was difficult to tell, those days.
She remembered thinking that it was what it was when she learned that she didn't have a magic container. It'd be fine because Arvid and Saul would be there with her. Wintergreen wasn't great, but it was home and she had all that she needed. Except that she didn't, because she wasn't like the people there, she realized. She'd had two friends not because she wasn't sociable enough but because Arvid and Saul were the only two she could fit in with.
Miko wasn't cut out to be a Wintergreen citizen. She was supposed to be out there, enjoying the world and what it had to offer her friends and her. She couldn't wait to be there with them.
Alas, she would have to.
With a weary huff, she squared her shoulders and started with the next series of exercises. She was tired and her body protested every motion, but she kept going. Because she refused to be trapped there alone when she could be out there with Arvid and Saul.
So, she'd keep going, doing whatever she could. Maybe it'd take time, but it was better late than never. She'd manage that eventually. Miko just needed to continue pushing herself and she'd get there eventually.
She wouldn't give up.
[} Chapter End {]
Adrian: *sniff* I'm not crying, you are!
Arc: A rather important chapter, in my opinion. Even though we don't have a PoV of our protagonists, we got some very needed exposition for some of the characters who have been left behind. Some of them are more emotional than others.
Adrian: Emotional for you, maybe! Weak!... *sniff*
Arc: There there *pats Adrian on the back*
Adrian: Thanks- I mean, get away! So, ahem, moving on. *sniff* I'm very happy with this chapter, and I'm hoping that you guys will like it too. Please, let us know what you think.
Random Adrian Question: Any favorites between these three parts? Why?
Discord Link: discord .gg/UTDransjJZ
