“Good morning,” she chimed at Wes as she plopped down to join him. “Sleep well?”
He looked up from his cup of tea, the dark shadows under his eyes clashing with the smile on his face. “Fantastically, actually. Just not very long.”
Eve flagged down the barman, flashing a silver piece to order a plate of eggs and sausage. “That’s okay, length is less important than girth anyway.”
“How does sleep have gir—” Wes’s jaw fell open. “Eve, what the fuck?”
She smirked across the table. “Where is her holiness, anyway?”
“Gone,” he said. “Has errands to run and all that.”
“Don’t we all,” Eve replied. She sat back with a massive grin as the server deposited a heaping plate of protein on the table in front of her. “My armor oughta be ready today.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I need to stop by that enchanter I commissioned. He should have my staff by now.”
“Oooh, that’s exciting. I bet Preston and Alex have all sorts of new toys too.”
Wes chuckled. “Well, if you consider Reginald a new toy…”
“Or you,” Eve laughed.
Wes blushed.
As if on cue, the guild’s door swung open to admit a frazzled Preston, still wearing the same wrinkled robe as the previous night. He made a beeline to his two companions. “We have a problem.”
“Let me guess, you got a bullshit speeding ticket?”
Preston rolled his eyes.
Wes leaned in. “What’s wrong?”
“I was chatting with sister Selma—who’s an absolute dear, by the way, you all should meet her—when Reginald climbed out of my sleeve. Once she got past the whole ‘seven hecks you have a monster on you!’ Selma was kind enough to let me know that apparently you need a license to keep wild animals in the city.”
Eve shrugged. “So get a license.”
“That’s the thing,” the healer explained. “They’re bloody expensive. You have to register as a monster tamer and take an exam and pay an exorbitant amount of money.”
“Makes sense.” Wes nodded. “They don’t want people keeping dangerous pets.”
Preston smacked him. “Reginald isn’t a pet! He needs me. He needs us.”
“Okay,” Eve thought aloud, “So it’s illegal to keep him, and you won’t just release him into the wild—”
“Because he’s too small to fend for himself,” the Priestess added.
“Right. Of course,” she said.
“So you want to hide him?” Wes asked.
“Not quite.” Preston flashed a sheepish grin. “I want you to hide him.”
The mage’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! There’s no way I can keep him at the cathedral. I share a room with the three nosiest Priestesses to ever live. They’d find him in an hour.”
“But I have my own room here at the guild,” Wes finished for him.
“Exactly.”
The two stared each other down, Preston looking up at the bulky fire mage with begging eyes and an innocent smile. He pulled the hatchling from his sleeve, making a show of stroking the back of his head. Reginald purred.
“Alright, fine,” Wes gave in. “I’ll keep him here until we can come up with a longer term solution. We can only hide him so long. Soon enough he won’t fit in your sleeve anymore.”
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Preston beamed, passing the oversized lizard across the table.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wes said, petting the baby monster. “You’re just so cute I can’t resist.”
“Keep it in your pants,” Eve quipped.
For the umpteenth time in the last twelve hours, Wes reddened. “I was speaking to Reginald!”
“Don’t keep Reginald in your pants,” Preston said. “He likes sleeves much better.”
Wes groaned, rubbing his temples with his left hand while the hatchling reveled in the warmth of his right. “You two are impossible.”
Eve laughed, shoveling a forkful of fried egg into her mouth. “Please, you love our antics.”
“I’m so glad I don’t have a hangover right now,” Wes said. “I can’t imagine dealing with you two with a headache.”
Preston smiled.
“Hells,” Wes continued, “hungover me wouldn’t even be able to look at you.”
Eve furrowed her brow. “Look at me? What are you—gods damnit.” She cursed as she turned her vision downward, confirming that already the radiant web of raw Mana had returned to the skin of her neck and chest. “But I’ve barely eaten anything!”
Wes shrugged. “I guess a few sausages is enough? Maybe protein makes for better Mana generation.”
“No, no, I was talking to Alex about this last night,” Eve muttered. “It’s getting worse.” She reached for the dagger on her right hip before remembering she’d filled that one up already. At least the one on her left still had some space.
“I’m going to need a better way to dump all this Mana,” she said through gritted teeth as she emptied her overloaded pool into the weapon. “That or fight something after every meal.”
Preston placed a hand on her back, sending a burst of Ayla’s light to heal her Mana-dealt wounds. “Time for another job, then? Drain all that Mana into some big bad and earn enough coin for a better sink while you’re at it?”
“Actually, I have a better idea.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Why don’t we just leave? We’ve been talking about moving on anyway, and away from Lynthia I can explode to my heart’s content. As long as Preston’s there to heal me, that is.”
The Priestess snapped his fingers. “That’s perfect! We won’t have to worry about keeping an illicit drake within city limits if we aren’t within city limits!”
“Are you sure?” Wes asked. “We have a good thing going on here.”
“Do we? So far I’ve run afoul of the guards, the guild receptionist is awful, I’ve been kidnapped in the streets, and now you’ve agreed to keep an illegal monster in your bedroom.”
The mage’s eyes flicked down to the hatchling in his hands and back up to the no-longer-glowing Striker across from him. “Alright. If you can convince Alex, we can head north. Powerlevel for a bit like we talked about.”
Eve grinned, leaving her half-eaten breakfast behind as she pushed herself to her feet. “I can do that. Just need to pick up my new armor and a few supplies and we can head out tomorrow morning.”
Wes nodded. “You shouldn’t need much. That drake had a pretty good stock.”
Preston pointed at her leftover sausage. “You planning on eating that?”
She shook her head. “I would if I could. Daggers are almost full—I don’t want to risk it.”
“Excellent.” He pulled the plate over. “I left the cathedral before I had a chance to get breakfast.”
Eve rolled her eyes but refrained from commenting. “I’m off, then. See you tonight.”
Wes waved goodbye as she turned to make for the exit.
Already brimming with excitement for her new armor and the prospect of journeying on to see new horizons, Eve stepped out into the busy street. The sight that met her left her reeling.
A mass of men and women crowded the thoroughfare, each adorned with a white apron or picket sign. To cries of ‘no grain means pain!’ and ‘we knead cheap wheat!’ they marched.
Once she’d had her fill of gaping at the display, Eve hailed another spectator to inquire about the gathering.
“The city council just approved a new tax on wheat,” the stranger explained. “It’s high enough to put half the bakers in the city out of business. They’re going on strike to protest, but the council works at the speed of government.” He shrugged. “Until then, there won’t be a single loaf of bread in all of Lynthia.”
Eve snorted, her mouth widening into an open smile. She fell back, collapsing against the guild’s outer wall as the laughter took her. She laughed and she laughed and she laughed. The
man gave her a curious look, but she was too distracted by the ludicrous nature of the city’s bakers going on bloody strike. It was gods-damned funny.
As the procession passed and Eve recovered her senses, she weaved through the streets of the glass city with a grin plastered across her face. What better sign could she have asked for? Whatever hijinks, shenanigans, or escapades the future had in store for her, one fact stared Eve right in the face.
The time had come to leave Lynthia behind.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Show and Tell
FOR THE SEVENTH time in the twenty minutes she’d been waiting outside the northern gate, Eve swung her arm in a full circle, reveling in the freedom her armor provided. “Plates” of hardened leather protected the rigid areas of her body while a softer, more flexible material allowed her joints their almost complete range of motion.
It was at her abdomen that the system failed. The thick chest piece remained solid all the way below her belly button, forcing her to bend at the waist or the knee should she, say, drop one of her daggers on the floor of the guild common room. Eve supposed it wasn’t a huge loss. Unless she needed to double over in pain—something the armor should hopefully prevent anyway—she couldn’t see a reason to complain.
The noonday sun shined warmth upon her bare neck, reminding her yet again that she probably should’ve bought a helmet. If only the leatherworker had one that didn’t swivel around her head and block her eyes whenever she made a high-speed turn. Maybe she’d find a better one in her travels.
The other piece she missed were the gauntlets so commonplace among agility fighters. Though she was no rogue in need of nimble fingers for illicit deeds, Eve did have a valid reason for leaving her hands exposed: the daggers at her hips. Channeling Mana through a barrier of leather was beyond her ability; she required skin contact both to charge and activate the enchanted weapons.
The morningstar that hung on her left side needed no such accommodation. Its brutal, bone-crushing ridges more than anything sold the message that she meant business. Eve smiled at her reflection in the great glass wall, marveling at her transformation from a simple village girl to the spitting image of a veteran adventurer.
A certain fire mage shattered her reverie. “Well damn, Eve, if you weren’t so short I’d say you looked like an actual threat.”
“I’m not short!” All five feet of her turned to glare up at the newly arrived caster. “You’re just freakishly tall.”
“Right, right.” Alex appeared from behind Wes’s bulky figure, her own significant height further proving his words. “You’re perfectly normal; it’s everybody else who’s too tall.”
Preston rounded the corner into the field outside the city just in time to jump to Eve’s aid. “Ooh, nice armor! You look like a real adventurer.”
She grinned. “See, Preston doesn’t think I’m short.”
Wes snorted. “That’s ‘cause Preston’s short too.”
The Priestess gaped. “Sounds like someone never learned adventuring lesson number one.”
“Don’t die?” Wes guessed.
“Close,” Preston said. “Don’t piss off your healer.”
Eve laughed. “Sounds like the same thing to me.”
“Oh, I’d never let you die,” he said. “But see if I heal your next hangover, why don’t you?”
Wes grimaced.
“On that note,” Alex stepped in, “it looks like we’re all here.” She gestured down the northbound road. “Shall we?”
The party nodded their assent, and together they embarked on the first steps of their journey away from the glass city. Eve twisted her head back to gaze upon the prismatic walls and the rainbows they cast several times as the minutes dragged on, until at last Lynthia faded into the horizon.
“So,” Eve broke the lingering silence, “are you going to tell me about your new toy?”
“What, this old thing?” Wes pulled the six-foot staff from its binding on his back. “If you insist.”
Preston chuckled, turning to whisper to Eve, “He’s been waiting for a chance to show it off all morning.”
She had to admit it looked impressive. Faint runes decorated its dark iron shaft, meeting along the tip where it split into four sharp prongs which clutched a fist-sized crimson gem. Eve might’ve guessed it ruby were it not for Wes’s explanation.
“The core came from a greater salamander, strong enough to hold half my pool in fire Mana. The whole thing’s enchanted to naturally pull in energy from nearby fires, which has the added benefit of keeping me from accidentally setting it alight. Not to mention it does this.” Wes grinned, raising both the staff and his free arm to the sky. As his left hand came alight and launched a Fire Bolt to the heavens, so too did the brilliant gem, matching his spell with a bolt of its own.
Eve watched as both projectiles flickered out before returning to the earth. “Did your staff just cast a spell?”
Wes beamed. “Yep. As long as it’s got enough charge, it’ll echo whatever I cast. It even lets me choose a different target, though I—um—need to work a bit on my aim.”
Alex shook her head. “It’s not worth it. Trying to aim at two different things at the same time is a fool’s task. I’ve seen poorly-trained Rangers try and fire two arrows at once enough times to know it just means you miss twice as fast.”
The fire mage smirked. “Those Rangers didn’t have a hundred and thirty Intelligence.”
Alex shrugged. “You’re free to try. Who knows, maybe you’ll figure it out.”
“Just don’t burn down the woods while you’re at it,” Eve added.
“Please, I wouldn’t set fire to an entire forest. Not on purpose, at least.”
Eve rolled her eyes, turning to look at the brand-new canvas messenger-bag that hung from a long strap at Preston’s side. “So what’ve you got in there? Finally decided to carry your own supplies?”
“Well I couldn’t exactly leave my stuff at the cathedral this time,” the healer said. “With any luck I won’t have to step foot in that horrid place again.” He patted the bag with a gentle hand. “Got some general supplies, food for Reginald, and some potions.”
Eve thought back to seeing such items for sale in Lynthia and balking at their high price. “Why do you need potions when you can just heal yourself?”
“Not without Mana,” he replied, “so most of them are for that. I did get a few health tonics, just in case something happens to me. I can’t heal myself if I’m passed out. Plus a couple general antidotes. I have spells for curses and diseases, but nothing that helps with poison.”
“That’s… remarkably well thought out,” Eve commented.
The healer smiled. “We don’t all need fancy enchanted gear. My job is to keep everyone alive, and this is the best way to do it.”
Eve peered over her shoulder, casually lifting the canvas flap to peer into his bag. Her eyes widened in surprise as she found a dozen clearly labeled, miniature leather pouches like so many tiny wineskins. “Aren’t potions supposed to come in vials or bottles or… something?”
“Maybe if your alchemist doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Preston explained. “What kind of adventurer wanders around with a bunch of glassware? Sounds like a recipe for broken shards and spilled potions.”
Eve turned to cock an eyebrow at Alex, remembering the health tincture the warrior had given her in the Burendian ruins. It had come in a glass vial.
Alex reddened but didn’t comment.
“Anyway,” Preston continued, “that’s basically it. Just potions and supplies.” His golden hair shuffled and shifted as a viridian drakeling peeked his head through the healer’s bangs. “And Reginald, of course.”
Out of simultaneous curiosity, boredom, and a nagging feeling that the creature looked slightly bigger than before, Eve Appraised him once more.
Level 3 Hatchling Drake
“How’s he leveled up?” she asked. “Has he been hunting mice?”
Preston shook his head, caref
ully so as to not risk Reginald’s perch. “He’s a hatchling, Eve. He levels just from eating until he’s grown.”
Wes laughed, “I wish I could level from eating.”
Eve’s stomach grumbled. “Gods, me too. All I get for eating is draining health and random explosions.”
“You can borrow my spear for tonight,” Alex offered. “The health regen on my Survivor’s Recovery more than makes up for a bit of Mana burn.”
“Thanks, Alex. I’m going to see about dumping some once we stop for the day. I’m just worried I’ll get to the point where a single meal is too much for my daggers.”
The warrior nodded, flashing a comforting smile before returning her attention to the road ahead.
“So what about you?” Wes asked. “We’ve got my staff, Eve’s armor, and Preston’s potions; what’d you get, Alex?”
The Survivor spun, pulling her kite shield from her back. “Redid the straps and commissioned a few enchantments. Watch this.” Securing the thing to her left arm, Alex slammed its pointed base into the packed road. With a quiet glow, the dirt itself shifted around it, forming an earthen reinforcement to hold the shield in place. “Won’t work if we end up in another stone ruin, but anywhere else I’ll be a lot harder to dislodge.”
Eve gestured at the web of white light along Alex’s right hand. “Can you charge it with your—”
She shook her head. “It needs earth Mana, so no. Fortunately the enchantment’s relatively cheap. I just need to leave it partially buried every night and it’ll keep charged.”
“Look at us,” Wes said with a wide grin, “all geared up and ready for adventure. Those legendary monsters of the north better watch out.”
Eve snorted. “More like Foot’s Garrison had better watch out. You’re just as likely to burn the place down as help keep it safe from monsters.”
Preston giggled to himself. “I know it’s called that because it’s at the foot of those mountains, but Foot’s Garrison will never stop sounding ridiculous.”
Wes joined in, “What’s next? Toe’s Keep?”
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 26