Emon whistled. “The blade’s all cracked, innit! Bloody thing’s about tae fall tae pieces.”
“I only used this one for the first time in that last battle. It’s only natural for a sword to wear down, but for it to happen so quickly...”
“It’s cause you fight like a damned beast! I’m surprised you don’t go through ’em quicker.”
Gaius chuckled lightly. “I suppose you’re right. It’s time to retire this one, then. If I try fighting with it, it won’t last more than a few blows. I’ll go fetch another from my wagon—or maybe I’ll use a different weapon next time...”
He gently set the faussar down beside him on the woven mat, using both hands. The children scooted backward to make sure they were still at the prescribed distance.
“Allow me to have a look at your sword as well, Emon.” Gaius unsheathed the sword the dwarf handed him, examining it closely.
Emon had left home with a short, broad, double-edged sword his father had left him, a weapon resembling something between an anelace and a spatha. When Gaius first saw it, he’d imagined it was meant to be wielded with both hands, similar to a bastard sword, and he had been instructing the young man to practice with it as such.
He had asked whether the curious weapon was crafted for a specific sort of dwarven fighting style that he was unfamiliar with, but Emon’s father had died when the boy was only two years old, and so he knew no more about the sword than Gaius did. His older sister had locked away all the enchanted weapons and objects they’d inherited, so Emon had grown up assuming the sword was nothing special. Gaius, on the other hand, could tell right away that it had been well-loved by its previous owner.
“This part here could do with some sharpening...” said Gaius.
“Gee, thanks, gramps!”
“I’m not doing it for you! Sharpen your own sword!”
The children burst into giggles. Emon sulked for a brief moment, but seeing Fluff laugh along with his friends brought a smile to his face as well.
“Knock knock!” Rain Grass, Red Eye, and a group of kobold men opened the door and called out in greeting as they walked into the house. They’d huddled under a few large leaves to keep themselves dry, and they left the dripping leaves in a pile just outside the door.
“Still workin’ hard even when we can’t tend to the fields, eh Gaius?”
“Afternoon!”
“All right kids, we’ve got work to discuss,” announced Red Eye. “Go on and play in the assembly hall.”
“Okaaay,” the children chimed in unison, running as fast as they could through the rain. Once they’d all left, the adults sat before Gaius.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” Rain Grass said.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Gaius replied, waving a hand in front of his face. The kobolds looked to one another, unsure as to how they should begin. Eventually, Red Eye nodded to the others, then turned to Gaius hesitantly.
“...We have a favor to ask you.”
＊
Darke sat beside Sashalia’s bed in the infirmary, listening to the downpour outside. “My, it certainly is coming down out there.”
“Yeah...” Sashalia replied listlessly. Both were doing their best to avoid eye contact, staring at the door as they spoke. They’d been sitting like that for quite some time.
“You know...” Sashalia began, “I’ve been thinking about leaving the village.”
“Is that truly what you want, Lady Denan?” Darke replied.
“I’m only going to get in the way here.”
“The villagers are so grateful to you. As is Sir Gaius. No one thinks of you as a burden.”
“But I do.”
“What will you do if you leave?”
“I don’t know...”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know, okay?!” Sashalia shook her head, her shoulders trembling.
“In that case, permission denied. I simply cannot authorize such a reckless mission.”
“That’s not for you to decide...”
“No? As your elder, I think it is.”
“What are you talking about? We were in the same class.”
“Aha...I may have lied about my age in the academy. I’m actually three years older.”
“What?!” That got Sashalia to look her in the eye. The half-elf whipped around and looked at Darke in shock, so much so that she forgot to try and dry her tears or wipe her nose.
“Do be sure to keep it a secret, okay? I lied to Sir Gaius as well.”
“So...you’re twenty-six?”
“I suppose I am.”
“You’re nearly thirty?!”
“And just why are you rounding my age up like that?!” Darke raised her voice as well. The two stared each other down in silence, Darke glaring and Sashalia wide-eyed.
“...Pfft...”
“Aheh heh heh...”
The two couldn’t contain themselves anymore, bursting into light-hearted laughter until their stomachs hurt. A sudden question came to Sashalia’s mind, cutting her laughter short.
“...How did you end up in Sir Gaius’s care?”
“Hm? Well, it’s not a very exciting story...”
“I don’t mind. You already know everything about me. It wouldn’t be fair of you to keep it to yourself.” Sashalia twisted and shuffled on her elbows as she spoke, trying to turn to better face Darke. As she was doing so, her hand slipped out from under her and she fell face-first into Darke’s bosom.
“Oh, my... Do you need some affection, Lady Aide?” Darke held the half-elf to her chest, cradling her like a child.
“...I do sometimes.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Darke gave a tiny nod as she held Sashalia close. Slowly, she began to tell her the story of her past.
＊
They say that Goldchester, the earldom to the west of Northplain, used to be nothing but fields of golden wheat. One day, a nobleman ordered his army to build garrisons in the fields, only to be killed in an uprising by the infuriated peasantry. No one remembers whose army it was, but the region came to be named after those golden fields, the pride of its people—until the Five-Year War.
Goldchester was on the edge of the kingdom, sharing a border with the next kingdom over. In a previous war, half of its territory had been annexed by that kingdom. This kingdom had formed an alliance with several other nearby nations to continue expanding its territory, and together they invaded Goldchester yet again—that incursion was the start of the Five-Year War.