RuggyRuggy

  I never made it to the homestead because Siora took me on a tour around Canary. We walked for hours, stopped at her favorite café, and continued to a park in the noble district. She asked me about my past, so I told them about my friends.

  Night fell upon us.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, crossing her legs. Tim kneeled nearby with a bag of bird seed for the ducks swimming in the pond.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m no stranger to fighting, though. I just...don’t like to see people die. I’ve seen more than enough death for an elf twice my age. It’s a long shot. Maybe it’s an impossible dream, but I wanted to go the rest of my life without...without seeing someone lose their life. So, when you jumped...”

  “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Servi. You don’t have to keep apologizing. I just...hope you’re doing better. I hope you won’t be forced to jump from any more high pces, haha...” Siora fluttered her wrist wings. She looked at Tim before turning to me. “The duchess will give us a double promotion. We’ll even get back pay, but it was never about the rank or pay.”

  “If I wanted to make up for what I did... Would you let me?”

  “We’re already doing it. The tour? Having fun? I had pnned to find you on my next day off to teach you about the city. So... Welcome to Canary, Servi!”

  “Thank you, Ms. Tour Guide. I had a lot of fun today.”

  During the day, I kept asking myself why Siora and Tim had worried so much for me.

  The answer I found was surprisingly simple.

  They probably pitied me. Here I was—a woman without memories, alone in a city she didn’t know—with no papers or other identifying properties, other than a ring, to her name? Or what she thought her name was?

  Not to mention Siora was old enough to—probably— be my grandmother—even if she didn’t look the part.

  “We’ll have to do this again,” said Tim, who approached with an empty bag. Happy quacks erupted behind him.

  “Definitely! Momo and the others can tag along. We’ll have to get together soon and pn something amazing.”

  “It’s a deal, then. It’s kind of te. You two are guards, so... Mind walking me back to my pce?” I grinned.

  That made Siora happy enough to wiggle her ears.

  They escorted me to the Crimson Grotto—Percival was waiting in the lobby. I’d probably lose them when the truth emerged. There was a chance I wouldn’t, right?

  It was infinitely small...

  Maybe not.

  But I hoped…

  I saw them walk away. Siora skipped ahead while raising her arms in victory. Tim joined, grabbing her hand. I saw him kiss her cheek before they skipped around the corner.

  “Servi!” Itarr, in her kitty cat pajamas, welcomed me when I walked in. Momo was right behind her. They told me what they had done at the homestead while we ate dinner. Fisher was still there. He had convinced the foreman to let him work throughout the night.

  “Again? Does the boy not know what rest means?” Percival added. His mouth was full of sausage, causing Nimyra to lightly chide his manners. His eyes looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

  “Some people are selfish. Others are selfless. Then you have those wanting to atone,” Albert said. “For what? Only he knows what category he falls under.”

  I learned Nimyra had been conducting her services in an empty room on a lower floor. She didn’t want to risk one of us walking in on her, which was thoughtful. “A part of me should’ve done this when you moved in,” she said, sipping her wine with all the mannerisms befitting a woman of elegant grace. “It would’ve prevented more than a few awkward situations, but it passed my mind like a fleeting carriage.” Olga and Merka were in their room, so they didn’t hear this sacious conversation.

  I really didn’t mind walking in on her conducting lewd services. It didn’t bother me that much, if any.

  Albert was here all day, so those siblings weren’t alone.

  Percival excused himself to the restroom. I checked on Fisher to ensure he was doing okay. Albert texted us to meet him in Olga’s room.

  “Hmm? What’s up?” inquired Momo as she walked through the open door.

  “It’s about her,” said Albert, pointing at Olga. He held a measuring tape. “The weather’s been far too beautiful to be cooped up inside all day. Fresh air may do her some good.”

  “I agree. So... Oh, now I see. Making something to carry her?”

  “To sit her,” he said. “Olga, you don’t mind, do you?”

  “Nope. Not at all. Umm... Just tell me what I have to do, okay?” Olga had slept much of the day, so she was energetic. She sat at a small desk with a pencil and paper. It looked like she was drawing—trying to draw—Nimyra. Maybe it was a little ‘thank you’ gift? Merka was helping, of course. Those two did almost everything together.

  “Thank you, my dear,” Albert said after finishing. We returned to our room, but Albert didn’t continue until we entered our soul world. “I'll require your help in constructing a wheelchair. It’s training to further hone our skill.”

  “Ah, that gives me an idea!” Itarr said, pulling out her phone. “Fisher, are you at the worksite? Okay, can you absorb any wood that needs to be cut? Thank you!”

  Click!

  Itarr ended the call as dozens of piles of wood manifested near the fountain.

  That was another strength. We were always connected and could ask another ring bearer to assist if something needed to be done.

  “Why not make two?” Momo grinned after I asked her what she meant. “I’m talking about a friendly contest. You two can work on geomancy while Itarr uses blood crystals.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said my goddess. It was faint, but the creative spark she had been cking returned to her vibrant eyes. “I want to get better with them. It feels like I haven’t scratched the surface of their potential.”

  “Albert?”

  “Ohoho! It’s an interesting proposal,” chuckled the butler.

  So...

  We began after handling the wood crisis, which took no time because of one little bitty thing.

  [Necromancy].

  Itarr and I created a few dozen skeletons while Nyxaris summoned temporary zombies with their magic. The lesser lich didn’t mind working their share, though. They could work a saw like anyone else, and Victor offered his assistance. There was a lot of wood, though. Half handled cutting while the others were on transport duty, moving lumber from one pile to another for easier retrieval since Fisher hadn’t mastered his ring.

  The butler and I swallowed some rocks, and I started by trying to make the wheelchair a singur object. I struggled hard, and it shattered under its weight before I had extracted it from the ground. So, something like that was too advanced. Albert suggested crafting the individual parts.

  “Yeah, that’s the best way. I figured I’d give it the ole college try,” I replied, settling for two tiny wheels. “You know. Even if we make it, it’s not guaranteed to st. It might fall apart before the morning. It might be my cynicism, but I doubt anything we create will be worthwhile.”

  “It’s a competition, but it’s not serious,” commented Momo. “All that matters is letting Olga get some fresh air.”

  “I doubt Ni-Ni would mind paying,” added Itarr. “Dineria can probably make one, too.”

  “Yeah. You're right. There’s no need to be a downer.”

  “Wait, what did you say? College...try? I’m unfamiliar with that term.”

  “It’s where you go for advanced education,” I answered Albert. The odd, earthly tingle left. I tried to cw that feeling back without swallowing a rock… But I couldn’t grasp it. “Anyway, it means trying while giving it your all.”

  “Would you liken a college to Adenaford Academy?”

  “Yeah. If Adenaford Academy is a school, college would be a step beyond that. A pce for higher education.”

  “How fascinating…”

  “Wait, so Lando doesn’t have anything for further education?”

  “Yes, but also no. Adenaford Academy has different programs you can repeatedly enroll in should you have the money to earn various degrees. There’s nothing beyond that unless you consider the Erion Institute of Magic within the March of Erion. As the name implies, it specializes in magic and nothing else. However, the world views Adenaford Academy as more prestigious, even if the institute only accepts graduates from Adenaford Academy.”

  “Well, are there any lesser education programs? Anything you must do before you’re considered for admission?”

  “Yes. There are schools you can attend that teach you the basics of most topics taught at the academy. Workshops are often avaible.”

  “Then that’s it,” I said, swallowing another rock. “These other schools are the first yer of education. The academy is a college. The magic pce is like grad school for those who wish to continue down that path. Not everyone goes to the academy, right?” Albert nodded as his wobbly wheel crumbled to dust.

  “Anyone can apply, but the enrollment board is strict. Of course, if you impress the board, you can attend with a schorship. Oh, dup is the answer to most of life’s problems. A generous donation to their coffers goes a long way. Or nepotism. It is no secret that who you know is sometimes more important than what you know.”

  “Almost forgot about that. That’s how Lucy got in. I hope she’s doing good…”

  “I’m sure she is, Momo,” said Itarr. “Ni-Ni said she’s been sending her letters, but… I don’t know if her recent ones are getting through. But Lucy's fine! That man’s supposed to be helping her. Ni-Ni wouldn’t introduce her to this Marko if he wouldn’t help her!”

  “Though her actions were dishonest and treacherous, Cassidy was right in sending Saline there,” added Albert. “The capital is the safest pce for her.”

  “…” My sighs foreshadowed the inevitable result.

  In the end?

  Team Geomancy failed because a crucial aspect was missing. Even if we made something halfway decent, our constructions weren’t always permanent. Or if they were, our creations couldn’t keep their shape before colpsing on themselves.

  We worked until morning. Itarr didn’t want the whole thing to be stark crimson, so I got some bck paint from Meghann on the first floor. She didn’t ask any questions. Itarr and I also learned we could infuse our blood with pigment to alter its hue. It changed the color at a cellur level instead of overying it like painting a wall.

  At least, I thought it did.

  That wasn’t all. Itarr could melt a blood crystal to form a sticky substance like glue, but she could alter its consistency to be like that limestone concrete mixture. The one difference, though, was that this hardened instantly. I stuck two swords together-- a mistake since they were a struggle to separate.

  Momo insisted I take a break, so we flew to her soul world on an ebonwing carrier. Or was it her soul isnd? Anyway, we spent some time walking amongst the flowers warmed by sunshine before returning to the others.

  I then crafted hammers, saws, and other tools while tinting them bck. Our infinite blood came with great adaptability. We never knew when someone might need a fthead screwdriver in the middle of nowhere, so why not start on a toolbox? Besides, these could be used as crystals to create an undead in an emergency. Itarr needed to give her wrists a break.

  “Seriously… What the heck are we missing?”

  “It’s not that we’re missing anything,” answered Albert. “The knowledge is there. We know what we must do. We can't grasp that…tingle, as you call it, without assisted aide.”

  “I wish I could help...” Momo pouted.

  Itarr needed to rest her mind, so she scrolled through her phone. “There's not much left hidden within the help menus. It seems like leftover or unused data. But… Hold on… Here’s some text about harboring a deep connection to the earth. Something about… meditation? You two spoke earlier about how Suusa may have been mistaken in his thought process, but what if he was right? Not entirely correct, but on the right track via a different path?”

  “Hmm… A geomancer is about maniputing the earth. Rocks, sand, ground… Dirt… It’s supposed to obey your will to take the form of what you want. Swallowing dirt is a shortcut to obtaining some understanding, but it isn’t permanent... So where does that leave us? If it isn’t physical…”

  “Then spiritual? Or mental?” Albert finished my thought. “Meditation could be the key. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to spend a day or two doing it.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever meditated before,” I admitted.

  “The logic is sound. Perhaps… The idea is to sense the element—its essence may be greater than the sum of its parts.”

  “You’re talking like it’s alive, Albert.”

  “Would that be so strange? We’re immortals. We’re conversing with a goddess. We have a gaggle of undead doing manual bor to construct an orphanage. I wouldn’t think suggesting a core element that makes up our world to be capable of thought is that outrageous, hohoho.”

  “Okay. I get your point. But it’s almost morning. We’ll have to try it tonight. Anyway, let’s finish the wheelchair.”

  “Yep! Oh, I can’t wait to see Olga’s face!” Momo’s tail danced as she cheered us on.

  “Hmm... Hey, Itarr? Can you take over for me?”

  “I don’t mind. Why? Are you heading somewhere?” asked my goddess.

  “No. I’m feeling a little inspired. There’s something I want to make—something we might need soon. It’s not a weapon or anything, but it might make our lives a little easier and more fun.”

  *****

  *****

  “Is that…a wheelchair?” Nimyra asked at breakfast. She watched as I pushed Olga into the kitchen. She wore a hooded cloak since it was getting colder. “Aww, how cute. Is it comfortable?”

  “Yep! Servy put a pillow and bnket to make it soft.” The girl was all smiles.

  “How’d you get that?” asked a curious Percival. The man had his cheeks stuffed with food.

  “I had the materials in my ring, so we built it st night.”

  “Impressive... Good job!” The bodyguard gave us a thumbs-up. That winking smile...was genuine? I didn’t feel any falseness from it.

  It was time to leave after finishing our food. It wasn’t hard to get Olga down the stairs. She was light as a feather. Even if she wasn’t, Merka would’ve-- nonetheless—gently held her as we descended. Meghann waved as I retrieved the wheelchair. Merka sat his little sister in it, made sure she was comfy, and we rolled out. Albert was with us today. Our destination was the guild, but...

  “Is that seriously a golem?”

  “Why would anyone summon one?”

  “Just look. You can’t tell what that thing’s thinking of.”

  “It's with a little girl… Someone should do something…”

  “Wait, isn’t that a Bicornkin? No, he’s a spirit?”

  “That singi, too...”

  “Is that the girl you told me about? The one...”

  People thought they were quiet, but they weren’t. Olga was getting upset. She turned to a gossiper. “I won’t let you talk about Merky like that! Stop being mean to my friends!”

  Merka put a sandy arm on Olga’s shoulder. The rocky tablet the girl held had words forming on its surface. That was a...variation, I suppose, of long-distance writing? Merka could manipute parts of his body if he was nearby. It’s okay. Their words don’t hurt me. I know…how people will treat me, but it won’t be that way for long. Servi, I want to help with the orphanage. I think my magic can speed it up.

  “I wanna help, but...” She looked better, but walking for more than ten or fifteen minutes was a tough sell. She knew her limits. Olga changed the subject and said she wanted to get better fast. She had been eating and sleeping to recover sooner. “It’ll be my turn to protect you, so wait, Merky.”

  You’ve always been strong. I’ll look forward to that day.”

  “I’m sure we can find something you can do,” said Momo, who walked alongside her. “But promise us that you won’t overdo it.”

  “Okay! I promise to be careful.”

  We stopped by the guild to chat with Cire. The elf was surprised to see the two newcomers, but she greeted them all the same.

  “Servi?”

  “Yes?”

  “What would you say to having dinner at my house?”

  “That sounds lovely!” Itarr excimed. She grabbed my arm. “Cire’s cooking is the best! It’s so good!”

  “Umm… Can…we come?” Olga was unusually meek—almost like she expected to be excluded. Cire’s blushing smile at Itarr’s overwhelming praise killed the girl’s worries, though. We were all welcome, including her.

  “We’ll be there,” I said as we left the guild. Dinner sounded fine, but there was a homestead to build!

  *****

  *****

  Night had fallen upon the nd after another hard day’s work. The dwarven foreman didn’t appreciate that golem, nor could he fathom why someone would bring a wheelchair-bound girl, but fate repeated itself…

  The fool was struck dumb by the mastery of magic the golem controlled. The nd just…split apart, making it easy to hammer in the fenceposts. The soil hardened, too, not so much like cement, but enough to keep it in pce until the next order arrived.

  Again, the boss was utterly shocked at how quickly everything was getting done. It was almost unbelievable. The others thought so as well. One day’s work wouldn’t turn the bias most felt at seeing a golem after the recent intrusive invasion. Even a week or month wouldn’t be enough. Even a young girl’s adamant procmations that her precious Merky differed from the other golems weren’t enough to instantly change most onlookers’ preconceived notions.

  Only action via hard work could do that. Merka had many more long days of bor ahead of him, although it wasn't hard or exhausting—it was therapeutic.

  Fisher watched his allies leave while he chose to remain. That was about two hours ago. They’d surely be amid a delicious meal cooked by two elves, whose combined ages reached over 150.

  Here he was—alone—by his own admission—staring up at the star-crossed skies. He used to lie like this with his sister before his life changed.

  “They say we come from stars,” she had once said. “Can you believe that, Fishy? Those bright, beautiful things? We’re the same as them.” Fisher loved his sister—his only family—so he believed her outndish tales. “We’re destined for things only we can do. Isn’t it fun to imagine it?”

  Spoiler

  [colpse]“When I die…” Fisher reached a child-like hand to the skies. He imagined grasping his fist around a star. “Will I see you again? Mother? Father? Sister…”

  “Spirit or not, it’s far too soon for a child to be thinking about death.”

  Fisher jerked at the unknown voice. He rolled to his feet and saw a face he didn’t want to see.

  Why did his wife have to be here?

  “Are you going to run away from me again?” she asked with a smile. Marissa crouched and held a handkerchief to Fisher’s cheeks, wiping his tears.

  It smelled just like her.

  “I ran into Servi and Cire at the market. They’re watching my daughters, so I thought I’d come see you.”

  “…” Another sharp pain pierced his heart.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to speak.” Marissa sat beside the stunned Fisher and hugged her knees. “I won’t force you to do anything, but I know you’re troubled. I’m a mother, so I have a sixth sense for these things.”

  “…”

  “Servi’s told me a little about you. She says you’re a hard worker, but you have a chain binding you to the past.”

  “…”

  “No response? I bet I’m right. My husband was like that.”

  “!!!”

  Marissa looked at the skies. “He was reserved. He kept a stoic lock on his emotions, so we were almost strangers. He came from a little fishing vilge…and that’s about it. I knew he was sheltering from something. You don’t spend years with someone without picking up on the small details.”

  “…”

  “Fisher passed away. He was a generous husband, a devoted father, and a brave hero. Yet a man as great as him was clinging to the past. He never trusted me enough to share the truth, but I’m not upset or mad. I never pressed him for details because I fell in love with the Fisher he became. Our children inherited his sense of justice. Mari says she’s going to be my protector when she grows up. Meri wants to be a powerful mage. She runs around the house pretending her favorite stick is a wand.”

  Fisher didn’t realize he was crying. Hearing his wife speak like that about him? He wanted to embrace her—to apologize for keeping his murderous past hidden. He never wanted to betray the love of his life.

  “Ah—” Marissa slightly panicked. “Dear me, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She dabbed his teary cheeks with that handkerchief. “I intended to cheer you up.”

  “How…”

  “How?” Marissa repeated. She tilted her head slightly.

  “How…does one make up…for a life of sin? How can a man…” Fisher physically couldn’t continue. An immortal like him felt an unimaginable pressure across his throat.

  “A child is much too young to speak of such things,” chided Marissa, her tone motherly and matronly. “I don’t know much about spirits, but you answered Servi’s call, did you not?”

  “…”

  “You don’t have to be alone anymore. No one can repce what you’ve lost or taken, but you mustn’t punish yourself. Servi’s a good girl. I know Itarr’s the same. Momo’s kind as a flower, and Srassa is as gentle as a summer breeze. I don’t know Olga well, but you can see how much she idolizes Merka. You’re surrounded by wonderful people, Finn.” Marissa grabbed Fisher’s hand and smiled a smile that had once stolen his breath away. “You also have me. I hope you won't mind if I rely on you in the future.”

  “Rely? On me?” Fisher gulped.

  “Yes. You’re reliable and honorable. You’re tender enough to work the night to help those less fortunate.” Marissa waved her hand at what Fisher had accomplished. Yes, it included the work his friends had done. Fisher was paid by the day, not by how many hours he worked, so much of his bor was free.

  Fisher destroyed the feeling that urged him to run away because he was tired of that. It took all he had to remain sitting. The butterflies in his stomach felt like sharp daggers.

  Marissa leaned back and rested against the soft grass. Fisher did the same.

  The two didn’t say or do anything else but gaze at the beautiful stars until Marissa had to leave to pick up her children from Cire’s house.

  Fisher escorted her to the city gates. There, he met two soldiers who recognized Marissa. The former lieutenant knew them. They were good people, so he had no qualms about letting them finish the job.

  Perhaps them being there was a stroke of good luck. Fisher just barely got through a moment with his wife. If he had to see his daughters? When his heart was at its weakest? He couldn’t be sure his feet wouldn’t just take him away somewhere else.

  He quietly walked back to the homestead. Alone in thought, he drifted to sleep while trying to understand his heart’s complicated feelings.

  “…” Unable to sit still, he retrieved his phone. Fisher stared at a contact list. Slowly, he pressed Servi’s name.

  “You’re welcome, by the way.” Her voice sounded as if she stood near him. Fisher wasn’t used to this.

  “Why did you send her my way?”

  “Because you needed it.” Fisher heard his children in the background excim how yummy the food was. “Maybe it was a mistake—”

  “No!” Fisher’s voice was forceful. He cleared his throat. “I…know what I want to do now,” he admitted. “It’s so clear. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I can still be there for them, can’t I? Not as a father or husband... I... I can still protect them.”

  “That’s right. Let’s have them come to the homestead tomorrow.”

  “So soon?!”

  “There’s no time like the present. Besides, someone’s gotta teach two little girls how to ride a bike.”

  “I don’t know what that is.” Servi told him to check the ring. He did, finding an odd device with a seat and pointy handles attached to a frame. Chains connected the pedals with the two wheels. It was solid bck.

  “That’s your task for tonight, so take a break from working.”

  “Eh? Is that Finn?” Heeeeyyyy!!!” He heard Dineria's voice echo in his ear before hearing a loud noise. Then his children ughed. That was when he cracked a smile. He thanked his necromancer and ended the call.

  This really was…the best thing for him…

  “There’s not any time like the present, is there?” Fisher approached the weird thing and spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how it worked.

  RuggyRuggy