“You’ve earned it.”
The smooth voice belonged to none other than the yeast hunter and baker, Bertil Nilsson, who winked a charming greeting.
“Bertil,” remarked Shiori.
“You’re here too?” asked Alec.
“I was worried that all you lovelies might come home starving, so I hitched a ride with the reinforcements.”
Bertil was built like a warrior, though his demeanor was anything but. He’d been waiting here at base camp, busily baking bread since his arrival.
“This is delicious,” said Shiori. “So soft and fluffy.”
“Trust you to bake top-class bread with only a campfire and pots,” commented Alec.
“What better time to display my new skills, wouldn’t you say?”
Bertil laughed and told them he’d recently been experimenting with baking good bread outdoors. As for Violid, he was stunned by the baker and his expression, and set about carefully observing him. Shiori and Alec spent some time answering all of Bertil’s questions about the battle earlier. People began to close in and gather around, curious to listen to this story of Storydia’s newest hero. At the end of the story, however, when all learned of the solitude that had been forced upon the dragon, the gathered adventurers and knights offered quiet prayers for the magical beast, hoping it might find peace in the afterlife, or whatever it encountered next.
Shiori and Alec then broke from the group and looked to move away from the excited crowds. On their way, they bumped into Rud Svenden—Leo’s superior and the man who had looked to recruit Shiori at the strategy meeting. He offered his apologies.
To anyone who was passing by, Svenden looked very much as though he’d been chewed out by the margrave and been forced to say sorry—a fact he did little to hide—but after sharing some words with the man, Shiori got the sense that he was not really such a bad type at all. Perhaps it was just one of many masks he wore. Regardless, she did not feel any of the same pressure or attitude that he’d exuded at the strategy meeting. In fact, Svenden was so polite when it came to thanking her for her contributions to the combat support unit, the instruction she’d given to his old friend, and her gift of liver paste that Shiori almost felt apologetic for her earlier impression of him.
“I’m going to share the paste over a few drinks,” Svenden said. “Especially now that I have a friend to share it with.”
Svenden’s smile showed his joy. Regardless of how they’d come together, he was grateful and happy to have a like-minded friend like Leo around.
“There aren’t very many that I can open my heart to,” he said as he was about to take his leave, “but with him, I can just be myself.”
The words impressed themselves deeply upon Shiori. Svenden spoke of Leo as someone he did not have to play the role of regimental commander with. And while Leo had said that he felt a debt of gratitude to Svenden for encouraging him to move to the combat support unit, in his own way Svenden was just as grateful for Leo.
“Such friends are priceless,” said Shiori.
“Indeed.”
The battle’s aftermath had made the bonds of friendship around them clear to Shiori and Alec in a number of different ways, and along with the lightness the wine had imbued their footsteps with, it felt as if they were floating across the main camp.
It had been a very long day, but finally dusk was falling. Magical lanterns at the periphery of the forest kept things lit while the revelry continued and the food was thoroughly enjoyed. In a quiet corner of the proceedings sat Frol and Julia, clearly a little hesitant as they sipped at cups of wine. Shiori and Alec approached them with food in hand.
“What are you doing here alone? You two were important to today’s success,” said Alec.
“I...” uttered Frol. “We do not feel it our place...”
Knights and adventurers alike had come to pour the two Imperials drinks, but Frol and Julia still refrained from joining the festivities, and had chosen instead to drink quietly by themselves. Shiori and Alec offered them the food they carried, which Frol and Julia accepted with wry smiles and thanks.
“Everybody knows what happened to your friend,” said Frol. “They tell us it was not our fault, that we had nothing to do with it, but all the same it will not leave our minds.”
“We insisted on playing our part in the battle against the dragon to repay in some small part for the crimes of our own people,” added Julia, “but in the end, it was one of our own people who saw your friend so close to death. I do not know how we can ever apologize...”
Clemens had fallen victim to the arrow fired by an Imperial loyalist, and both Frol and Julia knew him well. When they had been rendered powerless by their fevers in Silveria, Clemens had helped to carry them back to town. In doing so, he had played a part in saving their lives. Thus, the guilt they felt at how he had been made to suffer was deep.
“The margrave showed concern for us,” said Frol. “He says he will not let anything bad happen to us. However, perhaps our immigration to the mining village may be delayed because of what happened... Or perhaps now it may never even come to pass.”
“The margrave said that?” asked Shiori.
“No, he did not. Still, I feel it best we prepare ourselves for banishment all the same.”