Well, this became more of a piece of filler than I expected. I hope the general tone comes off right, with Leafa and Klein, and also that the last part comes off as more wierd (in regards to circumstances) rather than fucking creepy (in regards to what was actually going on) going to start editing this once I get back to a PC with stable internet.
Halkegenia Online – Chapter 4 – Part 2
"Oy, waiter, can I get mine to go?" Tsuboi Ryotaro, the swordsman Klein, waved a hand from the back of the line crowding around the counter of the small cafe located in the south western corner of the market square. Normally, he really liked to take the mornings easy, but he didn't have that luxury today.
Day of Void was technically his day off, but he had half a dozen errands to run before he could even think about putting his feet up. All he wanted was to get something in his stomach and get through his list before noon.
Stuffing a piece of egg on toast into his mouth, Klein squeezed past a business of Gnomes setting up shop for the day at one of the market kiosks, and made at a jog towards his first destination, the shop of an armorer who had reopened his business in one of the storefronts overlooking the market.
A tall sign describing a stylized helmet sat outside the shop, marking that it had opened for the day.
The doorbell chimed as Klein stepped out of the sun and into the shade of the shop interior. A bored looking Imp boy sitting on a stool behind the counter, looked up from his book. "Ah, Klein, you're back."
"Yeah. Sorry to hit you guys up so early in the morning." He rubbed at the back of his head. He knew he'd asked for a tall order to be filled very quickly, but the Gnome smith who owned the shop had thought it could be done.
"Grishim will be with you in just a minute." The boy said, hopping down from his stool and knocked heavily on the thick wooden door that separated the workshop from the storefront.
He hammered again a little harder. "Hey, Grishim. Grishim!" He rolled his eyes as the muted sounds continued from within the workshop. Finally swinging open the door, "Hey Dad! We've got Klein here waiting for his order. Is it done yet?"
Klein peered past the boy and into the back room where heavyset, sweat soaked Gnome was busying himself over a small furnace. Small in this case being about the size of Klein's torso. A sullen, orange-red glow was cast from the contents as the Gnome manhandled a long lever, causing the contents to slowly pore into a ceramic mold. Even at this distance, Klein could feel the heat.
Only when he had finished poring and returned the furnace to its upright position, did the Gnome turn to face them. Removing his face guard, the man frowned. "What'd I say about when we're working?"
"Sorry, Grishim." The Imp boy corrected himself. "Try to keep your ears open a little more."
Klein winced, he'd heard this guy was a bit of a LARPer. Well, everyone needed a way to get by. For some people, that was trying to pretend nothing had happened, that they were exactly the same person they'd been before, just with wings. Others had started to embrace their role, living more as their character than themselves.
"So, back already." Grishim noted as he climbed up the steps into the storefront, one arm behind his back. "You're certainly an impatient one."
"Ah, Sorry!" Klein grinned sheepishly. "It's just that this is the only time I'm free. I have training the whole rest of the week, which is why I wanted it as soon as I could. You were able to fix it, right?"
The Gnome chuckled as he brought his arm out from behind his back, huge hand holding both of Klein's forearm guards.
"Oh-ho! Nice, nice!" Klein complimented as he examined the work. "Are you sure these are mine?"
When he'd brought them in, Klein been sure they'd been wrecked beyond repair, victims of a too close run in with the remains of a juvenile Caustic Dragon and a biochemistry that was best described as [<Volatile]>. By the time Kindjal and Calcifer had managed to pull the spitting, smoking, pieces of armor off of him, they'd been eaten down to their amalgam alloy backing. Klein still had the chemical burns to show for it. Now they looked as good as new, better.
"The outside leather was a complete write off, so were the backing plates. So I ripped out the stitching and reused what I could." Grishim explained. "I replaced the guard plates and used new leather for the outside of the left one." He took the left arm guard back from Klein and thumbed the dark brown surface. "That's Earth Dragon hide from the locals. Toughened up a lot better than I thought it would. Other than that, I recast the backing plates and redid the stitching. Why don't you try'm on?"
Klein was only too happy to do so, working his wrists and fingers to try out the range of motion. He only wished he'd brought his sword along.
"You did good work Grishim." Klein grinned. "So, what do I owe you?"
The Gnome settled on the stool behind his counter, looking thoughtful. "Well, let's see here. I can discount what I was able to reuse. Count the old metal as materials . . ." He trailed off as he did some simple mental arithmetic. For a dedicated VRMMO player, running the numbers would be trivial. "Lets say seventy five added to the seventy five down payment.
"One fifty?" Klein whistled slowly.
It didn't sound like much to Klein, but it was in reality a hefty sum in Tristain. He wasn't the only one who was still getting used to things either, prices were fluctuating daily as people worked out what materials and their labor were worth. Some things got cheaper, while others climbed in price. One fifty was a pretty impressive sum, all things considered.
He supposed he should just accept it and hurry on to his next errand, but maybe he'd been hanging out with Agil for too long.
"You know, the rest of my squad is kitted out with legendary level gear, if anything else gets beaten up, I'm pretty sure they'll want a good armorer to do the repairs and replacements. Someone they know won't stiff them."
The Gnome gave him a suspicious look, but Klein held his ground, praying silently that his smile wouldn't crack.
"I've got plenty of business from the Lancers already." Grishim said with a small wave of his hand.
"I'm with the skirmishers." Klein offered quickly, seeing his opening. If Grishim was much of a businessman, he'd be happy to expand into untapped clientele.
"The Skirmisher squads?" Grishim rubbed his chin. "This is pretty high level gear for Skirmishers. Did Mortimer keep you guys for special assignments."
[<Special Assignments]>.Klein winced. He'd heard about those. Apparently, Mortimer hadn't been the nicest of Faction Leaders back in that other world. More than once he'd employed well equipped hit teams to eliminate particularly bothersome players, or to complete quests that were unsuitable for larger raid parties. He'd even used Spriggan assassins to help take out the leaders of the other Factions.
Thankfully, Mortimer hadn't done anything like that since their fantasy had become reality, but it still had earned him a reputation for being cold blooded.
"Nah, nothing like that." Klein shook his head. "We were all in on the Newcastle Raid."
Grishim and his son fell silent. "Newcastle?" The Gnome rocked back, an action that seemed like it should be followed by an avalanche. "You mean you were part of Dunkirk?"
Klein scratched again at the back of his head. Sure it was a big deal, but he hadn't wanted to boast about it. Going out and helping to take people's lives wasn't really anything praiseworthy, even if he'd helped to save lives in the process.
"We were on the walls for most of it." Sans some time spent airborne, getting barbecued by an asshole traitor. "That's where I got my current gear. Honestly, I'd hate to downgrade because of a stupid mistake."
Grishim nodded to himself, setting his hands back down on the counter. "I'll tell you what. Let's make it fifty. That's one twenty five total."
Well, now Klein knew how much the Gnome had planned to gouge him. That was a pretty good, no, a really good deal. They shook on it and Klein produced a stack of five, fat, golden coins, his entire allowance for equipment repairs. At least he hadn't had to dig into his own salary.
The Imp swept up the pieces, examining each carefully, Tristanian Coins bearing the mark of the Crown, before hurrying back into the workshop to deposit them in the strongbox.
"Thanks again for getting it done so quick." Klein commented. Man, they even felt like the old ones!
"It's not a problem." Grishim grunted. The huge man paused for a moment before leaning in. "And by the way, thanks for everything you and your squad have been doing. The mob patrols, and the fighting." He looked back at the still open workshop door. "I'm grateful that there are people who volunteered, for Milnik's sake."
Klein gave the man a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I got ya." That was half of why he was doing this after all. This World didn't need any [<Black Cats]> if he could help it.
Grishim gave him a pat on the back, a sensation rather like being hit by baseball bat made out of sausage before seeing Klein out the door. Standing in the street's morning traffic, it was several minutes before Klein actually remembered what he was doing. The swordsman dug into his pocket and marked off his first errand.
Next was, he scanned down the list, ah, right, he'd told Enya he'd pick something up for her at the Academy. Then he had a couple of letters to mail back to Gaddan, checking up on the other former members of Fuurinkazan. And after that, he needed to do some maintenance work on his Katana.
A real blade sure did require a lot more care than a digital one, but his life depended on his sword, so he'd be an idiot not to dedicate time to it. Luckily, the skills that had been crammed into his brain to supplement almost two years of intensively trained muscle memory, had included a fair bit about how to actually take care of a Katana. Not as a show piece, but as a real weapon.
Setting off across the market square once more, Klein was nearly gone when he heard a voice calling above the crowds. "And can I please get that to go?"
Klein turned his head, and did a double take. Stepping out of the cafe he'd hit up earlier, a Sylph was busily rapping her breakfast in a handkerchief so that she could keep her hands clean while she ate on the go.
"Ohr? Gud'mrninig Krein." Leafa tried to say through a bit of her breakfast. Green eyes blinking with mild surprise. She swallowed. "Uhm, Klein-san?"
Klein shook his head. It was what she was wearing. It wasn't that Leafa was doing anything to stand out, but the effect was concerning. 'Damn it! His little sister!' More importantly. 'His little sister.' Quick, think of something else!
"New wardrobe?" Klein asked. 'Real smooth.'
"Oh!" Leafa looked down at herself. "Yeah, KoKo-san helped me pick it out." She turned so that he could get a good look.
It wasn't that it was revealing, just the opposite. It looked a lot like a more practical version of her ALfheim fantasy clothing. Sturdy, white, cotton pants, white blouse, and long green jacket closed at the waist, rugged looking leather boots, hair pulled back by a utilitarian cord. With her sword resting on her hip, she didn't look like a kid playing a fantasy game anymore. She looked very serious, very professional, very . . . mature. 'Damn it!'
"I thought this would be better. It's more comfortable to fly in." Leafa explained. "And besides," she looked pleased, "It's more appropriate for my job."
"Right, you're part of the Watch now, aren't you." Klein recalled.
After the big mob clearing operations had started to wind down. And more importantly, as volunteers with useful skills began to bow out to pursue different forms of employment, or else join the defense forces, there had remained a need to maintain the mob patrols, and also provide for the Faeries to police themselves and deal with disputes with the locals.
Thus had been born the City Watch Service, a natural evolution of the mob patrols, to preserve peace and order in an around the Faerie settlements, whether the problems were caused by mobs or people.
It wasn't particularly high risk work, though there was fighting involved from time to time. Mobs moving into cleared areas from deeper in the wilds, bandits returning to their natural habitat now that the roads were once again safe, and the occasional Orc tribe being driven out by something worse. Mostly, they patrolled the roads and country around the Faerie cities and mediated disputes between Fae and native Tristanians visiting the area.
Privately, Klein was thankful on behalf of her brother. The Watch seemed to fit Leafa like a glove. It wasn't too dangerous, but still utilized her skills. She already had a little bit of experience working with the native Tristanians, and her blade and spell craft were more than good enough to defend herself against mobs and unsavory characters. Moreover, it gave her something purposeful to point to and be proud of. No doubt it was the reason for the sudden improvement in her mood.
Leafa nodded, smiling brightly. "Yeah. Actually, I'm heading down to the gate to meet up with my partner for patrol. We've got the roads all the way west of the Academy today."
Klein nodded approvingly. "Nice. I've got business with one of the Professors, mind if I tag along to the gate?"
Leafa actually seemed to have to give the question some thought. "Well, we're on official business, so I'm not sure if that would be allowed." She struck her open palm with a fist. "But since you're with the defense forces, I guess it's allowed."
Klein stared at the Sylph, and this time it wasn't because of her clothes. At least she was taking things seriously. Maybe a little too seriously. But soon enough she was back to her normal self, talking between bites of her sandwich . . . omelet . . . thing. 'Didn't see that on the menu.' Klein noted to himself. Which reminded him.
"Don't you usually eat breakfast at home?" Klein asked.
Leafa shrugged her shoulders. "Usually, but Asuna was up late with Onii-chan and I had to leave early this morning, so I thought I'd take advantage of my first wages." She tilted her head. "You know, this wasn't what I expected my first job to be like." She smiled, amused. "But I turns out I'm pretty good at it."
"Oh?" Klein frowned. "The fighting too?"
Some of the Sylphs enthusiasm evaporated. "Well, it's okay against mobs since they're dangerous animals. And against bandits, we usually just spot them and report them to a foot patrol. But we haven't had any of those since I joined. Mostly it's just making sure things stay quiet and handling any complaints. Little things, but sometimes we have to give someone an earful for being unreasonable."
"Heh. Sounds like the class rep when I was in high school." Klein observed. "Man, she was always butting into everyone's business, getting on everyone's case, a complete pain in the ass, and . . ." He stopped as he realized that Leafa's posture and expression had changed. She looked annoyed. "Ah, sorry, sorry, I'm just remembering my own lousy track record!"
Leafa looked at him as if she was judging whether or not he was telling the truth. Didn't women have some sort of sixth sense for that sort of thing? Like they had a more sensitive sense of smell or something?
He might have been convinced at that moment that such was the case as Leafa sighed and let her shoulders sag. "Its kind of funny, you know?"
"Eh?"
"People talking, and making deals, and arguing. It feels so normal. Is that right?" Leafa fixed him with an uncertain look, patiently waiting for his reply. Time for him to answer with his professional opinion.
"It seems pretty strange when you put it that way." This was a hell of a time to get philosophical. But what the heck. If Kirito could dispense the [<Wisdom of the Ages]> from time to time, then Klein could at least take a crack at it. "I guess . . . normal is just what you expect every morning when you get up."
"Like waking up in a fantasy land with Faerie wings." Leafa mused.
Or a floating castle with a hundred floors. But Klein didn't say that. It was sort of spooky. Even in that virtual world, with its constant reminders of falseness, there had been times when Aincrad seemed more real than the world he'd been born into. And not just because nobody wanted to think about what was happening to their bodies IRL.
In one respect, Kayaba Akihiko had succeeded magnificently. He'd created a world of profound stories, and inhabited it with real lives. A person couldn't live like that for two years and not start to think of it as reality.
Then, what was going to happen to them if they ended up stuck here? But Klein knew that wasn't a subject he should spend too much time thinking about. There were a lot of ways for it to get depressing very quickly.
They ran into a crowd of Faeries just off of Arrun's main street, all gathered closely around one of the hastily erected message boards. The day's news was already up, a half dozen handwritten sheets of paper reporting noteworthy events in and around Arrun and the Kingdom at large. For the information starved [<Children of the Digital Age]>, it was like an oasis to a man dying of thirst.
And gauging by the voices around the message boards, the morning's news wasn't good. Catching a glimpse of the headlines, Klein grimaced. "Another murder. Double homicide in Freelia." He turned back to Leafa and noticed that she didn't seem surprised.
"Onii-chan told us last night. He's heading for Freelia right now to investigate along with Argo-san and Caramella-san." Leafa admitted when he pressed. "It's why Asuna was so tired this morning, she's worried sick."
"I don't blame her. I would be too." Klein agreed.
In fact, he didn't need to be Kirito's wife to be worried. That was three murders in three days. A brief chill ran down his spine. One murder might have just been an argument getting out of hand, but three meant something was happening. Klein silently began to pray that it was just one lone lunatic. Someone insane and uncharismatic. Someone who couldn't bring out the worst in other people. They didn't need a new [<Laughing Coffin]>.
"Actually, I'm surprised Asuna would let him go without her." Klein noted.
"I think she wanted to." Leafa said. "But she didn't." The Sylph stopped dead in her tracks. "Klein-san, you're Asuna-chan's friend too, right?"
"Like I said before, I knew her in Aincrad, but not nearly as closely as your brother." He breathed. Although, he had been getting a bit closer to her in the past couple of weeks. A consequence of hanging around with Kirito after he got off shift.
Leafa gave him an uncertain look. "But you'd look out for her and Onii-chan, right?"
"Well, yeah." Klein said automatically, like he even needed to think about it. If only those two weren't so good at leaving everyone else in the dust.
Leafa began walking again and then talking again. First slowly, and then picking up speed. "I don't think Asuna is doing what she wants right now, and it's making her unhappy."
"And what makes you think that?" Kirito had been a bit tense last time he'd seen him, but Asuna had seemed fine. Though like he'd said, he knew Kirito a lot better than he knew Asuna.
The Sylphs smile was halfway between pained and embarrassed. "I guess I have some experience with trying to ignore my own feelings." There was a story there, Klein was pretty sure, but he got the feeling it was off limits. "It's like Asuna is holding back and hates it."
"Kirito-kun has been pretty worried about her. Liz and Argo-san too." Klein noted. "She might just not want to upset them." Though normally he would have expected Asuna to just do what she pleased regardless. She seemed a lot meeker these last couple of weeks. Maybe some of her IRL personality had started to supplant her normal assertiveness. He just couldn't imagine the forceful young woman who'd led the KoB ever letting anything get in her way.
"Wait, didn't Lord Mortimer try to scout her for something?" Klein asked aloud.
"Un." Leafa nodded. "I think he still wants her help, but she asked for a little bit of time to think about it."
Very strange, Klein thought. Did Kirito know about this? He was a pretty observant kid most of the time, but he did have his blind spots. "Well, I think all you can do is talk to her about it. Maybe Asuna-san wants to get away from that sort of life?"
Being a guild leader wasn't easy, and Klein's guild had been on the smaller side. He couldn't imagine what the stress would have been like running a medium or large guild, or Cardinal forbid a monster guild like the Army. Thinker had Klein's undying respect for his talent.
"Maybe." Leafa agreed reluctantly. "But if that's the case, why is she keeping Lord Mortimer's letter of recommendation." The Sylph's face turned red. "Ah, I mean, I saw her rereading it yesterday is all!" She let out a breath. "Anyways, thanks for listening to all of this."
"Hey, it's not a problem." Klein said easily. "If you ever need to let off some steam, I'm here for you and your brother whenever you need me. It's not good to let it all get pent up and not do anything with it, you know?" Leafa tilted her head, giving him an odd look. "Uh, what now?"
"Nothing." The Sylph became a little more relaxed, regaining her normally carefree smile. "I was just thinking, you're a pretty mature guy Klein."
"Uh, thanks?" Hearing it from a fifteen year old, he supposed it was a compliment, like telling someone they weren't incompetent.
The relaxed atmosphere lasted almost all the way to the gate before either noticed that something was amiss. The main gates of Arrun were usually busy from a very early hour. Mob hunters left early to start combing the forests for their quotas, and with the influx of money into the city, more and more traders had been stopping to set up shop at a makeshift bazaar, selling spices, teas, and other goods that the Faerie's couldn't produce for themselves.
Instead, the foot traffic was barely more than a trickle, and almost nobody could be seen taking flight. Then they heard the distant shouting.
Leafa had broken into a run before Klein could stop her. "Come on!" She shouted, conjuring her wings and gliding down hill the last thirty meters to the gate. Klein was right behind her, someone had to keep her out of trouble.
A crowd of Faeries and visiting Tristanians were gathered on the far side of the gate, exchanging muttered comments among themselves. From what Klein could pick out, the tone was growing more hostile by the second. Not good!
"M-maybe the 'ABC' are right." Klein heard from one Leprechauns say as he pushed through the throng of people behind Leafa. The crowd was tightly packed, both horizontally, and vertically, with Faeries fighting to get a view of the disturbance.
"She's violated the Sir Wetherby's property. It's only right that she make amends." A portly traitor tugged at his mustache. Somehow, the man didn't seem convinced.
A Leprechaun beside the nobleman looked displeased. "Come on Hiram, we both know this is bogus!"
"Can't the watch do something." An Undine girl rung her hands nervously.
Her partner, or maybe her boyfriend, a taller, silver haired Undine pointed. "Look, they're trying. Those Nobles are just being difficult."
"Regin said something like this was going to happen." Another Faerie, a Salamander grunted with displeasure. "Lord Mortimer should have had more say in the negotiations. Not that flighty Sylph."
Klein didn't hear the reply to that last comment as the crowd parted ahead and he stumbled after Leafa into the center of the bazaar that had been setup just outside the outer walls of Arrun. He took stock.
Everyone's attention was on a small gathering of Tristanians in the midst of a heated argument with a wiry Undine backed by two bigger Caits in lightweight body armor. Sitting between the two parties, hands on knees, a frightened Gnome woman was shaking as she tried not to cry. Most of the people, Faerie and Tristanian, were standing well back, watching to see how things would go.
Leafa took one look at the situation, and in a very Leafa-like fashion, charged right in. It must have run in the family. "What is the meaning of this!" The Sylph swordswoman demanded.
"Ah, Leafa-san!" The Undine spun around.
"Irmin." Leafa greeted shortly. "What's going on here. We can't have disruption like this!"
"Well, erm, that is, I . . ." The Undine watchman shrugged weakly. "It seems we have a bit of crime on our hands. A theft it seems."
"Theft?" Leafa grimaced. "What did they take?"
The Undine raised his hands helplessly. "Not them, this young woman here." He gestured to the Gnome.
"Yes, her." The man at the lead of the Tristanian group declared loudly. Tall, snobbish, axe nosed. "She was given shelter last night at our master's home after she lost her way in the woods. And then Sir Wetherby's generosity was most heinously exploited when she stole from the good Chevalier. We found evidence of the thievery and managed to catch her only just here before she disappeared into Arrun."
"Irmin," Leafa asked calmly, "Did you find anything?"
"Well . . ." Irmin grimaced. "We checked her pack when she was stopped. Most of it was pretty ordinary, some blankets and spare clothes. But . . . She did have these." He gestured to a pair of silver candlestick holders and a stack of silver plates, all polished to a mirror finish.
"Those are heirlooms of Sir Wetherby's family." The lead retainer added sternly. "They were presented to our master as a gift when he was elevated to the rank of Chevalier in her Majesty's service. This cretin stole them with hardly a thought for the generosity Sir Wetherby had shown her."
The Gnome woman mumbled something so softly that it almost would have gone unnoticed if not for Leafa and her acute hearing.
"What was that?" Leafa asked, kneeling down beside her, and then more gently. "Please tell me, it must be important, right?"
The woman bit her lip, she looked almost too frighted to speak. "I didn't steal anything." She mumbled. "He said to take them." She hugged herself tightly.
The lead retainer snorted derisively. "Sir Wetherby is a man of means, but I'd hardly think he could hand over a ten pound of silver to a complete stranger." The others nodded in stern agreement.
"B-but . . ." The girl began to stutter.
"Enough of your lies!" The retainers voice carried firmly. "Now then, do we have the cooperation of the watch? The evidence shows that she is guilty of a theft."
"Hey now . . ." Klein began, maybe it was his overdeveloped sense of chivalry, but it didn't really seem like the woman was being allowed to tell her side of the story. But before he could say more, a glare from Leafa silenced him.
"So then. What does Sir Wetherby plan to do?" Leafa asked, one hand gently patting the Gnome on the back as she started to cry quietly.
"My Master has thoroughly read the new charter that governs relations with you Fae. In matters of theft, some form of punishment for the accused and compensation for the wronged party is demanded, correct? Normally, a thief could expect her hands to be broken for her first offense." The Gnome whimpered softly.
Klein tensed up, he could feel the crowd growing on edge, and these idiots had to feel it too. Didn't they? There was no way people were just going to standby if these men tried to do something like that. [<Pack Mentality]> could be a scary thing.
"But sir Wetherby has decided that such measures are much too extreme." The retainer continued. "Your Leaders willing, the thief will be made to work off the value of the stolen items as a stable hand. This is an acceptable punishment, wouldn't you say?"
"I told him I didn't want to work for him." The Gnome mumbled quietly.
"It's going to be okay." Leafa said, rising back to her feet. "I'm sorry, but this it a little bit too much for us. It should be alright if we ask for someone to come down from Arrun tower, right?"
The retainer smiled humorlessly. "Yes, that's quite acceptable. Thank you for your cooperation."
"I guess you'll want your silverware back right away." She added.
"It would be appreciated. They're quite valuable. Nearly pure silver and superb workmanship." The retainer sounded all to pleased as Irmin began to hand the candlesticks to man at his right.
Maybe the Undine was a little careless, or maybe his palms were sweaty. Maybe people just messed up more when they were handling something expensive. He let go of one of the candlesticks a moment too early. The second retainer cursed, fumbling as the silver dinner piece fell, striking the ground with a metallic -thud-.
"You bumbling fool!" The first retainer shouted, grabbing hold of Irmin by his caller. "Look what your carelessness has done!"
Klein was already stepped up to intervene. This was going from bad to worse, and they couldn't let it escalate into a riot. There were a lot of mages, and lot of Faeries in the surrounding crowd, and it wasn't at all clear what would happen next.
That was when something interesting happened.
Instead of trying to help her friend, Leafa leaned down and grabbed the fallen candlestick before the second retainer could retrieve it. She stood back up, examining it closely, and then flicked the surface with one slender nail, holding it close to her ear.
The first retainer had let go of Irmin's collar by now and gone noticeably pale.
Leafa frowned and without any further prompting, flicked the surface of the candlestick again and listened to the dull wringing. "That's odd."
"What?" Klein asked.
The Sylph lowered her voice. "This doesn't sound like silver at all."
"What? Are you sure?" Irmin leaned in, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he examined the candlestick in Leafa's hand.
"We get payed in silver coins, so I know the sound. They make a really beautiful ringing when they're struck together. But these don't do that." Her green eyes glinted dangerously. "You know, it sounds a lot more like a five hundred yen coin."
"Oy, aren't those made from copper and nickel?" Klein grunted.
"Yeah, like costume jewelry." Leafa agreed.
The look of apology on the Undine watchman's face turned thin and unamused. "I do believe this calls things into question." Irmin no longer sounded frightened or unsure of himself. He smiled unkindly. "Perhaps Sir Wetherby was mistaken about his family heirlooms?"
"Well, that is . . ." The retainer took a step back, lips moving clumsily. "Perhaps they were switched." He offered, the confidence and indignation from moments ago draining away.
"Uhuh." Leafa said unconvinced. "So, I think what might be best is that we hold on to these, and then Lady Sakuya can have a good laugh with Princess Henrietta about how one of her Knights mistook fake silver candlesticks for the real thing."
"The Princess?" The retainer whispered. It looked like he was just now starting to see how badly he'd miscalculated. Then again, it had almost worked.
"I hear she and Lady Sakuya are good friends." Klein crossed his arms wisely. "I bet they're looking for something to talk about over tea."
"With biscuits." Irmin said.
"And cake." Leafa added. "I bet it'll be a good long talk."
"Because obviously Sir Wetherby must had just made a simple mistake." Irmin observed diplomatically.
"Yeah, a complete mistake." Klein agreed. "I mean, anyone could make it, they look a whole lot like silver to me." They just weren't. Which had probably been the whole point. Klein felt a burning desire to deliver some old style [<Justice]>, but turning this into a confrontation wouldn't do anyone any good.
The retainer finally wizened up enough to realize that they were being offered a way out that might not completely humiliate themselves and their Lord. "I suppose we may have acted hastily." He spoke up more loudly so that the Gnome woman and the crowd could hear. "Miss, please forgive our mistake, it appears that we were overzealous on his behalf. These were indeed the ones that our Master intended to give you. Beg pardon our indiscretion, and if there is anything we can do to make right," the man removed his hat, bowing deeply, "We will of course do so post haste."
"Leave." Leafa instructed, voice flat. Her hand was resting on the hilt of her sword. Klein was worried she really was going to draw.
The Tristanians didn't need to be told twice, turning, and with as much dignity as a group of retreating cowards could muster, remounting their horses and riding off.
Leafa held her glare until they were well down the road, vanishing in the dust kicked up by their mounts. Once she was sure they wouldn't turn back, she sank to her knees.
"Leafa?" Klein asked.
"I'm alright." She said. She didn't look it at all. In fact, she looked sort of like she'd spent a whole day dealing with Klein's old asshole of a boss back in Japan, that was to say, tired and angry. "Just give me a second."
"You did good." Klein patted her on the back. Really, she had. That could have turned into a nasty situation, but she'd tried to keep everything under control.
"Your friend is right." Irmin added. "I'm really sorry I wasn't able to handle that on my own. I guess my NEETs tendencies came out, huh sempai?"
The crowd was beginning to slowly disperse, people commenting about what they had just seen. Nobody but the watchmen and Klein had been close enough to hear the final part of the exchange, but that wouldn't stop the speculation, in fact, it would probably help it along. People loved to make up their own stories, after all.
"Excuse me Miss." Klein turned around, noticing the fat Tristanian from earlier leaning over the still sobbing Gnome woman. A handkerchief was held in one hand. "I'm sorry for not speaking out sooner. I hope you're alright."
"Moving in now that the coast is clear, Hiram? Real brave." The small, hawkish, blue haired Leprechaun who had been speaking with him sniped.
"It's good for business, Kruznev. I've no interest in helping along bad relations with you people." The trader grunted in a way that caused his whole stomach to jiggle.
The Gnome's sobbing stopped, replaced by giggling that left both men at a loss. "I'm sorry, you just looked really . . . really funny when you did that?"
The Nobleman opened his mouth, face aghast before stuffing the handkerchief into her hand, grumbling indignantly to himself.
"Are you going to be alright, Miss?" Klein asked as he crouched down beside her. "It sounds like you're having a pretty tough day." No one needed to get up to crap like this, not this early.
Klein got a good look at her for the first time. Short, light blonde hair, big aqua eyes, and warm, earthen skin. Like most Gnome women, she was more cute than beautiful, simply built on the scale of a Gnome. Klein guessed she would have been half a head taller than him if she'd been standing, and judging by the brass knuckles that hung from her pants pocket, she'd been some sort of fighter build.
"Un." The woman nodded. "We were flying back from Tau Tona, and . . . and it got dark. I used to fly at night a lot, so I thought it would be okay if I went ahead. But it was cloudy, and I got lost. Then Wetherby-san found me and gave me directions, but now I don't think he was really trying to help me." She pulled her knees up close to herself. "Irene-sensei is going to be really angry with me."
'Sensei?' He grimaced.
Klein felt himself going cold as he started to put the pieces together. "Miss, uhm . . . The name's Klein." Klein offered kindly. "Do you mind telling me yours."
The gnome sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the handkerchief that the Tristanian trader had lent her. "Rika. My name's Rika."
"That's a pretty name, Rika-chan." Leafa said as she crouched down beside Klein. "My name is Leafa, I'm with the city watch. Ah, Rika-chan, how old are you?"
Rika looked away, mulling over her reply. "I'm ten . . . next week."
Klein cringed, that young?! Why had she even been playing ALfheim? Stealing an older siblings account maybe? And he had thought Leafa was bad. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, now, you said you were with other people right. Do you have family, or someone you're staying with?"
She nodded again. "I live at Arrun Home, I know the way from here." She rose to her feet, hefting a traveling bag.
"Irmin, can you and everyone else handle the patrol on your own today." Leafa asked, taking Rika's arm. "I'm going to make sure she makes it back okay." She lowered her voice. "Then I'm going to go lodge report with Lady Sakuya's office. Something needs to be done about this."
"Right." The Undine nodded. "We'll do that."
Leafa bade him farewell, making her way with Rika back towards the city streets, the Gnome girl pulling Leafa along like the child she was inside, even though she stood head and shoulders taller than the Sylph.
Klein reached up to rub tiredly at his face. It couldn't be past nine-o-clock and the day had already killed his good mood.
