“So yeah, that’s what I was told,” I said.
We were eating breakfast on the terrace when I gave everyone the news. It took some time to move the table out to the terrace, but we went through the trouble because Arashi didn’t head home right away—she’d decided to rest her wings here with us for a bit.
“Was nothing else written on the note?” Diana asked. She fed Lucy bits of meat in between her own bites.
I shook my head in response. “Hmm... Maybe there’s a reason he can’t write much else.” Diana pondered this, placing a hand on her chin.
Camilo’s note didn’t list any reason at all—it honestly felt more like an order. Though it wasn’t odd for him to use as few descriptors as possible. He wanted to make sure that nothing would be leaked should the message be intercepted.
Rike looked at Diana with a wry smile. “Or maybe this is his prank of sorts.”
I couldn’t argue with that. We were talking about Camilo and Marius, and this behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for them—if their prank was intended to hasten my trip and have me head to the capital earlier, then it was a fun one.
I cocked my head to one side. “Well, if it was a prank, I feel like they’d make some sort of excuse that would entice me to head out immediately.”
Camilo and Marius’s pranks were usually exaggerated and grandiose. If they really were trying to prank me, they’d offer a plausible reason—like maybe they’d state that someone from the empire arrived at the kingdom sooner than scheduled, so we needed to leave early too. Usually, these excuses were half-truths. Perhaps the person from the empire really had arrived early, further giving credence to their claims.
But this time around, the letter was a simple, one-line note urging me to head immediately to the capital the moment I finished forging the orichalcum knife.
“What if they thought you’d catch on to their joke if they wrote some kind of half-baked excuse?” Samya asked.
I nodded at her. “Well, that’s fair. Maybe they don’t expect me to actually travel to the capital as soon as possible. But perhaps the seriousness is intentional, to make it abundantly clear that this isn’t a prank they’re pulling.”
Anne sighed heavily. “So they decided not to give a reason, just to prove that this isn’t a prank? What a troublesome friendship you share.”
“Oof, can’t refute that.” I let out an awkward chuckle. I could only nod in agreement when they pointed out how complicated our friendship was.
Anne smiled. “The world’s a big place. It’s fine to have a friend or two like that.”
I mean, it’s two geezers and a handsome guy—I think it’s easier for us to maintain our ties when there’s a bit of trouble brewing.
“Well, the knife is done,” I said. “If needed, we can set out today, but...”
I gazed around at everyone; they stared back at me. My daughters were probably just copying their moms, frankly.
Samya huffed loudly, shattering the small moment of silence. “We’re going there either way, aren’t we?” she asked. “It’s just a matter of sooner or later. So let’s just hurry up and get it over with. The capital’s a bit farther away than the city.”
“Yeah.” Lidy nodded along.
We had to turn in the knife either way, so even if this was a prank, it didn’t make much of a difference to us.
“All right, then,” I said. “We’ll change all our plans and head for the capital.”
“Roger that!” everyone agreed.
“Kulululu!”
“Arf!”
“Kree!”
Our voices echoed throughout the calm forest.
“Last one out’s a rotten egg!” Helen announced.
I thought it was weird that she’d been silent so far, but she swiftly finished her breakfast, and the Lightning Strike—in a manner befitting her sobriquet—cleaned up her utensils in a flash and returned into the cabin.
“No fair!” Samya shouted as she hastily followed.
The rest of us all laughed and more slowly followed the two ladies. We all quickly made travel preparations. We didn’t do anything special though, and we dressed as we normally did except for perhaps adding thicker capes to shield us from the brisk air. Soon, we were ready to go.
Helen was the only one who hesitated for a moment—she wasn’t sure whether she should wear her armor or not. But the capital wasn’t all that dangerous, and since we would be traveling in a group, she ultimately chose to leave it behind. Her greatest weapon was, by far, her speed, and if she was willing to sacrifice some of her armor to maintain that swiftness, it would work in her favor, especially in the city.
“Hey, Arashi! I see you’re still here,” I said.
“Kree.”
As we all hastily loaded our cargo onto the cart, I noticed Arashi perched alongside Hayate. I thought Arashi would head home after she got some rest, but it seemed she’d take it easy for just a bit longer. Or maybe she received orders to stick with us until we reach the capital. It’s fine—another petite wyvern won’t increase Krul’s workload or anything.
“Hup!” Rike grunted as she tied Krul to the cart.
Krul had grown, and we now had to fasten the cart a bit higher up. I didn’t think there’d come a time when Krul would grow so tall that she’d be out of Rike’s reach, but if that time ever were to come, then someone else would have to take over (maybe me). The orichalcum knife—Divine Dragon’s Claw—was safely stored within a box. This box didn’t look lavish like a chest and was instead very simple.
A flashy box would scream that there was something important stored inside, and if we encountered bandits, the orichalcum knife could be at risk. As a means of camouflage, I also placed several entry-level model knives in a couple of different boxes, though Divine Dragon’s Claw was stored by itself. If anyone held the box or looked inside, the differences would immediately give it away, though—the subterfuge was mostly to calm my anxiety.
Once everything was packed up and ready, we boarded our drake-drawn cart. Lucy still acted very much like a puppy, but she was large enough to be an adult wolf—she no longer needed a boost to get up onto the cart. This realization was sad in a way, but it was also proof that my daughter was growing up, which was something to be celebrated. At least, I kept telling myself that, hoping to suppress my complicated emotions.