by John Nest
“I see,” said Solliciter, picking up some coins and dropping them back to the sack. “This is indeed more than what my client is offering now.” He paused, contemplating. “But that’s because this is a bulk payment. But in the long run, King Kajou’s offer would still be higher.”
“What are you talking about?” yelled Sierra. “This is more than enough to pay for all their debts.”
“I’m talking about their interest rates,” replied Solliciter. “It’s a rookie mistake, but I’m afraid you forgot to factor that in when you were saving for their freedom.”
“But there was never any mention of—” countered Sierra but was interrupted by Solliciter.
“How about this? I’ll give you a fourth of them?” offered Solliciter, smiling. “That’s a fair deal, right?”
“I want all of them,” said Sierra, staring him down.
In response, the leader of all the Avendre Mercenaries shook his head, backing his body away. “That’s just being silly.”
Thyrsus and Vijaya, who were some distance away, began exchanging worried glances.
“Sierra’s got this, right?” Thyrsus whispered to Vijaya.
“Of course,” replied Vijaya.
Without warning, Sierra slammed the table with her palm. “Perdant, take the cart,” she angrily ordered.
At once, the plump Merchant pulled the cart full of zecs towards the door.
“Hold it!” exclaimed Solliciter. “I’m a Businessman. There’s no need to be rash. You can have seventeen-thousand, that’s more than a third. You should be happy with that?”
“We should just kill him,” Thyrsus mumbled to Vijaya.
“You know we can’t do that,” replied Vijaya. “We can’t win against the entire Avendre Mercenaries.”
Sierra let out a deep breath. “It’s all or nothing,” she said. She then pointed to Thyrsus. “Can you help Perdant with the cart?”
With that, Thyrsus and Perdant resumed pulling the cart.
“You can have half,” said Solliciter. “Straight down the middle,” he added, making a cutting motion with his hand. “That’s my final offer.”
However, Sierra did not budge. Thyrsus, Perdant, and the cart full of zecs were nearing the door.
“You don’t want them? Fine!” said Solliciter, adjusting his brown robes near his neck. “Doesn’t really matter to me. After all, they’ll make up that money with their lives in Sawtorn.”
This time, it was Thyrsus who stopped Perdant from pulling the cart. He then turned to Sierra and said. “We should take it.”
Thyrsus’ fiancee blurted out. “What are you doing?” asked Vijaya, surprised. “Don’t interfere. Sierra has the final say.”
“I know that,” answered Thyrsus. “But I can’t send them away like this. We trained them to fight Knights, not green monsters twice their size.”
“But…” Vijaya tried to argue, yet could not find the words to support her.
“Brebis had to die today. Just because this bastard wants to see their improvement,” began Thyrsus. “Now, think about what the ones in Sawtorn will have them do. They’ll be used as meat-shields. Their Commanders will have no regard for their lives.”
No one countered Thyrsus’ truth.
“Even if it’s just half, we should save all that we can,” said Thyrsus, looking at Sierra with imploring eyes.
Sierra looked away and turned to Solliciter. “Thirty-thousand and we have a deal,” she said, offering her hand to the man in brown robes.
“Deal!” exclaimed Solliciter, grinning. “I’ll give you thirty minutes to pick out the men, and I expect the cart to be prepared with them as well.” He got up and left before anyone could say anything else.
“Thyrsus, pick out the strongest Mercenaries,” ordered Sierra.
“Of course,” replied Thyrsus, lowering his head. “Our thirty-thousand Avendre will be the strongest of the ones we’ve trained.”
“No! You’re picking out the ones we’re sending to Sawtorn,” said Sierra. “I believe they’ll survive, and when we have more money we’ll buy their freedom.”
“At once!” exclaimed Thyrsus, lowering his head even farther, hiding his watery eyes. “Sorry, I got in your way.”
“No. You were right,” replied Sierra, walking closer to Thyrsus. “I was too fixated on saving them all that I might’ve messed up that whole deal. Thank you,” she added, patting him on the shoulders. “Now, hurry up. You only got thirty minutes.”
Thyrsus bowed down and rushed outside the door.
“Perdant, you can handle the cart, right?” Sierra asked the plump Merchant.
“Frankly, it usually hurts giving away such a fortune. But this time, I feel lighthearted,” replied Perdant, giving Sierra a small bow and pushing the cart out of the room.
Sierra slumped down on the table, covering her face.
Left alone, Vijaya walked over to where Sierra was. “Like you said, they’re gonna be alright. The strongest Mercenaries are most likely coming from my battalion. So, there’s no need to worry.”
Sierra lifted her head and gave Vijaya a weak smile. “I know it’s strange, we’re training them to fight Burmistrz… So, why does it matter?”
“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Vijaya. “I never once pictured any of them dying under our command, and that makes all the difference.”
A few minutes later, a lioness Lioumerean barged into the room.
“I heard you’re sending my battalion to Sawtorn!” exclaimed Guro. She stared at Sierra with glaring nostrils. “You have one minute to explain!”
“Sit down,” calmly replied Sierra, motioning the seat next to her.
“I’ll stand,” answered Guro.
Before Sierra could talk, Vijaya began to explain the whole situation with Solliciter’s visit and his plan to take all of the Avendre Mercenaries. Vijaya’s explanation took longer than was necessary, but in the end, Guro understood.
“That was a wise decision,” Guro said to Sierra. “But I have one condition.”
“Anything,” quickly answered Sierra.
“I’m going with them,” said Guro plainly. “You want them to live, don’t you?” she added with definition.
Sierra could not respond. She thought about Smoke’s reaction but knew that he would not stop her. Besides, even if they did try there was no stopping a determined Guro.
“Fine. But you have to swear to stay alive,” said Sierra, giving Guro a hug.
* * * * * *
A fidgety Nash drummed his fingers on his desk, almost knocking off the half-eaten sandwich on his table. He was waiting for Sherry to pick up. Soon, he would delve into the unknown realm of Mictlan, and he wanted to speak with her before going.
“Hey, sorry it took so long, I just logged out,” answered Sherry.
“It’s alright. I was gonna log in anyway if you still didn’t pick up,” joked Nash.
“Then you’d better stay in the afterlife,” replied Sherry, laughing.
“Right! Anyway, how are things?” asked Nash.
“Alex still hasn’t returned. But he said that he’s almost found enough investors for our business venture,” said Sherry.
Nash realized that it was close to a year since her uncle had left. “You know you’re welcome to come over.”
“I know, but I like it here,” answered Sherry. “Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with your brothers but I prefer if you come—”
“Got it,” replied Nash. “I’ll visit more often.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice,” said Sherry. “What about Mima? Any news?”
“The Detectives gave me some updates, but there’s nothing exciting,” said Nash. “But I’m not worried. Lately, even Donny and Seth feel the same. It’s not that we’ve given up hope, it’s more like we’re sure we’ll find her.”
“Yup! Me too,” added Sherry.
“Anyway, what about Verbrannt?” interjected Nash, blatantly changing topics. “How’s everybody?”
Sherry paused. She let out a deep breath and said. “Solliciter came…” and told him of their Avendre Mercenaries’ situation.
“That’s okay,” assured Nash. “It’s great that Guro joined too. I’ll have a surprise waiting for them when they arrive in Vona.”
“Sounds good, but you should go,” said Sherry. “I know you’re excited to see what Mictlan is like.”
“I knew I loved you for a reason,” said Nash.
The two of them laughed simultaneously.
“Nash,” called out Sherry, stilling them both. “Bring them back.”
“I will,” replied Nash and ended the call. He finished his sandwich in one bite and stepped into his game pod.
* * * * * *
When Smoke opened his eyes, he found the familiar wall of books. As usual, the Magietrois tower was illuminated with floating fireballs. He took in a deep breath and smiled at the strong sulfuric smell. He had grown accustomed to it over the past few days.
“Oh, you’re here,” said Eleve, annoyed. The elderly HighElf was busy pouring a green liquid into a black cauldron. “Haven’t worked this hard since I was a student.”
“Stop complaining and just pour,” ordered Florissant, mixing four potions at once. “We need to synthesize two more sacred logs for the ritual.”
The youthful-looking Magietrois then turned to Smoke. “You can leave. You’re just an eyesore.”
Smoke was slightly dejected that his trip to Mictlan was delayed, but knew of a great way to pass the time while waiting. “Can’t I just stay and read more books?” he asked with begging eyes. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
Florissant stopped mixing the potions and placed all of them on the table. “You said you wanted to see your dark ember sprite set off for Wysteria, right?”
“Yeah, but they’re already in Vona,” replied Smoke. “There’s no way I can catch—” his voice trailed off as his body felt the tingling sensation of being teleported.
A fiery silhouette of Smoke began to materialize in one of the secluded alleys of Vona City—pearl of the Vitzytl Kingdom.
As soon as he stepped into the street, he was swamped with thousands of Sonstwelters and Zectians alike. Some of them were buying equipment in the stalls but most were listening to the row of recruiters lined against the wall.
“Five hundred zecs a day! Looking for an OrkElf Mercenary!” called out a Wizard Sonstwelter. He stood on top an empty crate to be seen over the crowd.
Next to him, was an Enchantress. “OrkElf for six hundred zecs a day, no level requirements. Need escorts to cross Geparden Plains.”
Forty more recruiters were crying out similar offers.
Smoke smiled. He was happy for the OrkElves. They’ve come a long way from his first time in Vona. He remembered how everyone treated them like lepers, but now they were offered the right amount of zecs for their work.
Looking for Igniz and Daga, Smoke headed for one of the inns near the port. Yet, he was sidetracked when he spotted a familiar name on the largest store in the area.
As he was about to enter, he saw a plaque near the door.
Esper’s Emporium
Great things start from small beginnings. Home of the continent-famous pompom juice. We’re the largest wholesale store you’ll ever need.
We’ve got armors, weapons, maps, and basic supplies. You think it, we’ve got it.
Here at Esper’s Emporium, every customer leaves with a smile and a complimentary pomegranate.
From the window, Smoke saw the young, muscular Esper holding a checklist. For a female OrkElf, her height was somewhat lacking. But she was bossing around a burly OrkElf twice her size. Smoke grinned when he recognized him to be Colere, Esper’s husband.
“Excuse me, Sir, but you’re blocking their way,” said a young OrkElf girl who tugged on Smoke’s cloak. She pointed to several OrkElves holding crates filled with pompom juice.
“Oh, sorry,” said Smoke and stepped out of the way, allowing the OrkElves to deliver their goods.
“Why don’t you step into the store, Sir?” offered the girl. “You’ll still get a pomegranate even if you don’t buy anything,” she said, offering him a fruit.
“It’s alright,” said Smoke. “I’ve seen enough,” he added, smiling.
Despite the huge success of the pompom trade, the two of them were still the same humble OrkElves who guided him in Vona.
“Tell me, you like working for them?” Smoke asked the OrkElf girl.
“Definitely!” she answered with a big smile. “Esper and Colere are awesome.” She paused and stared at the floor. “I used to be bullied. Nowhere was safe, not even our homes. Not a week would pass without a sand cheetah taking one of us.” A tear fell down her cheek which he quickly wiped away. She then looked at Colere and Esper through the window. “Thanks to them and someone named Faux, our lives in the settlement have gotten much better,” she added, but her smile slowly faded.
“What’s wrong?” asked Smoke.
“It’s just that, Colere and Esper are always talking about how Faux helped us achieve all this,” she said, pointing at the store and the other OrkElves who were smiling as they worked. “Would’ve been nice if I could’ve thanked him too.”
Smoke froze. He patted her on the head and said. “Just stay happy. I’m sure that’s what he’d want.”
“Really?” asked the girl, raising her eyebrows at Smoke. “I think I’ll just write a thank you note and ask Esper to give it to him.”
“That could work too,” replied Smoke, chuckling.
“Anyway, here’s a pomegranate,” said the girl, giving it to Smoke. “Even if you don’t go in the store, I’m sure Colere wouldn’t mind.”
“Thanks,” said Smoke, taking a bite out of the fruit. “You take care, alright?”
With that, Smoke headed for the Noel Inn. It took him less than five minutes to reach the festively decorated lodging. Facing the port, its foyer had three occupants. A thin OrkElf Assassin, a young girl dressed like a Thief, and a DarkElf Knight who looked exactly like Smoke were enjoying the setting sun near the docks.
Smoke waved when he saw Daga noticed him coming.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” said the incarnated Igniz, lowering his head before Smoke.
“Don’t tell me you’re coming along too?” asked Daga, who was in her human form. “And here I thought I’d get some alone time with Igniz.”
“No, I just came to see you off,” said Smoke.
Unexpectedly, Cynar walked over and slapped Smoke on the back. “You never told me Igniz was your twin,” he said, laughing. “Of course, it’s obvious when you don’t have masks on.”
“Right?” replied Smoke, catching on. “Anyway, thanks for taking them all the way here.”
“No,” said Cynar, shaking his head. “I’m the one who needs to thank you. If there’s anything I could do, just say the word.”
“Really?” asked Smoke, grinning. “Funny you should say that…” He then began telling Cynar about Guro and their Avendre Mercenaries who were about to arrive in Vona.
“…So, the King’s even asking Mercenaries from Wysteria, huh?” said Cynar, grumbling. “Can’t say that I like King Kajou’s methods, but we’ve got to fight those Orks.”
Cynar offered his hand to Smoke. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your friends company while they’re here.”
“That’s great!” said Smoke, shaking Cynar’s hand. He then turned to Igniz and Daga. “Now, you two have to help Sierra out. She’s got a lot of—”
Surprisingly, Smoke felt the tingling sensation of being teleported and disappeared before he could finish his conversation with Igniz and Daga.
Smoke shivered as a new prickling awareness enveloped him the moment he materialized. When he opened his eyes, he found himself on a parched clearing with a few patches of dried-up grass scattered here and there. At its center, stood Florissant and Eleve waiting for him. Looking around, he found that a few trees covered the area. But looking beyond them,
he surmised that it was the snow-capped mountains that kept this place secluded.
He turned when he heard his name called out.
“Smoke,” said Eleve. She walked over to him and patted his head with her wrinkled hands. “You were a terrible student. But a great friend.” She added, locking his neck with her arms and roughing out his hair even more.
“Thanks,” said Smoke, escaping out of Eleve’s sadistic hold. Taking one step back. “Master Eleve, I owe all of this to you. I’m truly grateful,” he added and bowed before the elderly HighElf.
“And me?” questioned Florissant.
“Of course, everything points back to you, Magietrois Florissant,” hastily added Smoke. “You’re the reason why Eleve is such a great person in the first place.”
“Well, she’s not that bad, but she is a pretty great Magietrois,” said Florissant, smiling at Eleve. “Better than most.”
Suddenly, tears trickled down Eleve’s cheeks. “Mistress, I never knew you thought that way.”
“Wipe those tears,” commanded Florissant. “I taught you Fire Magic, not Water.”
“Right,” said Eleve, happily drying her eyes.
Then, the real Magietrois in her young girl appearance turned to Smoke. “As you have indeed proven yourself worthy, I, Florissant Poisse, grant you the title of Florissant: Red Seal.”
At once a notification window popped up.
+ Upgraded Title: ‘Florissant: Red Seal’
After saving the alliance between the kingdoms of Vitzytl and Thanotl, this title was given to you by Magietrois Florissant Poisse herself. As such, you have earned her trust and are obliged to swear your fealty to the Florissant Seminary.
* +5 to all basic stats
* Intimacy with Florissant Poisse has increased to ‘Trusted Student’
* Travel and continue your path to the title of Florissant: Master
* The title disappears if the Florissant Seminary gets destroyed