Chương 25: Two Steps Back

Birds chirped happily on top of trees. A traveling bard played an upbeat tune using a string instrument. Meanwhile, the streets of the town were packed with people. New stores already opened up on the side, constructed earlier by Alicia's efforts at building up the town. Children ran on the streets, playing with each other. Adults walked in and out of shops and workshops to their houses, all of them busy. Merchant wagons lined up the side of the street.

In front of the bard, dozens of young lads wearing dirty but rugged clothing, alongside identical flat caps made out of a grey fabric, all clapped and laughed, some of them holding proper glass bottles filled with beer. Their foreman, whom they didn't see as he arrived behind them, shouted at them to get back to work. While that broke the revelry around the bard, the man continued singing and strumming, his melodies calming passersby regardless. Orevogorsk was lively.

On the other hand, Helen, who hadn't come out of Wintervale Palace for so long, practically hid behind Lyra as the two walked on the main street that was connected to one of the factories built inside the town. Apparently, it was recently finished, and it was meant to mass produce precise glassware, something that was immediately highly sought after by many merchants. Lyra spoke about it giddily.

"Just last month, Lady Alicia was practically pulling her hair out about how hard it was to find the machine needed to press glass, and when she did find one, it was ridiculously expensive," Lyra explained.

"Luckily, she managed to track down the original designer of the machine and was able to get a new blueprint for much cheaper, and Maxim got it up and running." Helen nodded mutely as Lyra continued her impromptu guided tour. There was so much it was overwhelming, and Lyra seemed to know everything about all of it. She had been directly involved in much of the town's growth, and even if she was only a secretary, she was secretary directly under the one who had made it all happen.

Lyra giggled a bit to herself, and naturally, Helen tried her best to smile as well, but everything about this made her feel more and more conflicted. Everything seemed perfect. Vaelrin were living freely and happily, there was more than enough food to go around, new jobs were cropping up every day, along with new citizens to fill them. It all made her feel out of place. Everywhere they walked, she felt the gaze of others. She heard them whispering behind her back.

People called out to greet Lyra while treating Helen like she was some kind of circus animal. It was like she was just an exotic pet, only noticed because of how out of place she was. Lyra went straight into the warehouse behind the glass factory to begin inspections, and Helen remained behind her sister while she did this.

Inside, the warehouse's clerks seemed to be arguing with a group of merchants, one of them angry about not being able to buy a batch of glass panes"This is starting to get ridiculous," the merchant said out loud at one of the young clerks.

"You all told me you would finish as soon as possible, but it's been four days! Four days! I was supposed to leave this town yesterday, but instead I'm stuck here waiting for you sorry lot to do your damn jobs!"

"I understand, sir, but the factory is operating at full capacity, so—" The clerk tried to explain himself, but the merchant seemed to get more irritated by this.

"I thought Orevogorsk could produce goods fast. My client is a nobleman! He's not someone who should be kept waiting like this!" Helen watched worriedly as Lyra approached the angry merchant.

"Why don't we all calm down a little bit?" she said.

"You want me to calm down?!" demanded the merchant.

"Why don't you tell him to give me the goods I ordered!" Lyra turned to the clerk.

"Is there something wrong with the order?"

"N-no, ma'am," said the clerk.

"It's just a very large order given on very short notice. We're working as fast as we can, but we won't be done until tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow evening?!" the merchant roared.

"Calm down, sir," said Lyra sternly.

"I understand your frustration, but if you continue to cause a scene, you may not be allowed to place orders here in the future."

"Why would I want to place orders at a place that can't fulfill them?"

"Why would you assume the order could be fulfilled on such short notice?"

"My client is a noble, and he–!"

"Is your client a vampire?" The merchant blinked.

"Pardon?"

"I asked if your client was a vampire."

"Do you think a vampire would be wasting time in a dump like this?"

"Ah, you must not have heard, then," said Lyra with a smile.

"The current lord of Orevogorsk is a vampire, and she also happens to be the owner of this factory." The merchant's face immediately paled.

"But your frustration is understandable," she continued.

"I'm certain that some of the blame lies in our hands, since you somehow got the idea into your head that the order would be fulfilled sooner, yes?"

"W-well, I'm not so sure," the merchant said meekly.

"Perhaps I misheard the date, heheh."

"Well, whatever the case, I think it's best that we clear up this misunderstanding in a way that both sides are satisfied. If you leave your name, then next time you order, we'll give you a 10% discount, so long as you order two weeks in advance. Does that sound fair?"

"Well, I wouldn't dare to take advantage of your generosity…" said the merchant.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," said Lyra, smiling sweetly.

"We love repeat customers. Just leave your name, and we'll have that discount ready next time you order." The merchant gulped.

"Y-yes, I will do that. Thank you very much." Lyra turned to the clerk.

"Does that work for you?"

"Yes, perfectly," said the clerk.

"Thank you, Lyra."

"Wonderful!" said Lyra, clapping her hands together.

"Now, let's continue with the inspection, shall we?"

"Gladly." Helen continued to shadow Lyra as the clerk showed them through the warehouse. They were talking numbers, and Helen had no frame of reference, so she found her mind wandering back to the past. When they were younger, Lyra had always been timid and shy. Helen was the confident one who took charge, solving problems and deescalating conflict. Even when they grew up, the dynamic didn't change. Lyra remained the shy scribe with the warrior older sister.

Whenever she had a problem she couldn't handle, she always came running to Helen, and Helen would solve it for her. Clearly, those days were long gone. Between the war and their imprisonment, they had been apart for many years, and Lyra had grown up. She could handle herself, and she wasn't afraid of conflict. She was competent, trusted, and beloved all on her own. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. She doesn't need me anymore.

After their inspection of the glass factory, Lyra's day didn't end. Until the evening, Helen and Lyra toured Orevogorsk. There was so much work for Lyra. The two checked establishment after establishment as a result. Mostly, Lyra just asked around with her notepad and fountain pen, talking freely with people about the happenings around them. As Alicia's direct representative, it was her job to keep in touch with every development around them.

That, and because of Lyra's warm nature and natural kindness, it seemed that she was popular with everyone, regardless of whether she was talking to a mother buying ingredients or a group of ironworkers having lunch and drinks at a tavern. Helen's eyes, however, simply wandered around. She stared blankly at the various workingmen active in the streets of Orevogorsk, their earlier novelty wearing off as her mind dissociated from the present. She barely paid attention to anything at this point.

Her energy and will to continue walking around a town that she was alienated by were drained completely. It was then that a merchant at the side of the streets, near a convoy of wagons being filled with crates, called out to Lyra. He was a young imp, somewhere around his twenties, with brown hair and a wide-brimmed hat, wearing a nice suit clearly imported from afar. He waved at Lyra, and Lyra, for some reason, walked toward him.

"Boris?" Lyra asked.

"You're here again?"

"I was just buying another batch of chairs and tables," Boris replied, though he was speaking a little bit faster than normal, as if he was nervous.

"They're selling very well over in Lirano. And who is this? A friend of yours?"

"Nope!" Lyra turned to Helen with a wide smile, introducing her proudly.

"She's my sister, Helen. You might know her as General Helen. Or as General Warsong." Lyra had an aura of satisfied pride as the young man's eyes widened.

"G-General Warsong?" Immediately, eyes wide, he bowed deeply.

"I-It's an honor to meet you, General!"

"I'm not a general anymore," Helen said coldly.

"O-oh. M-my apologies." Helen glanced over and saw a slightly pained expression on Lyra's face and immediately turned away in guilt. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Lyra spoke again, striking up a new conversation about business, but there was a faint aura of unease now, and Helen knew it was all her fault. I'm sorry, Lyra. Back before the war, Lyra had done that all the time. She was very proud of her older sister, and the only times she felt confident were when she was showing Helen off.

But those days were gone. The Helen that Lyra was so proud of was gone, and all that was left was a hollow shell following Lyra around like an anchor, dragging her down. She watched as Lyra and Boris eventually began to happily chat with each other. Boris still seemed nervous and flustered, while Lyra was lively as ever.

Lyra was so caught up in the conversation that she didn't even seem to notice what she was doing to him, and Boris was so focused on her that he didn't even notice another merchant calling his name until they clapped him on the back. Lyra seemed to know this merchant too, and soon the conversation was even livelier than before, with all three talking and joking and laughing while Helen stood on the sidelines. A melancholic smile appeared on Helen's face as she watched. Lyra had a place in the world.

She had friends, an enviable position, and a bright future… and one broken sister to take care of. Lyra would be better off without me. She looked away from Lyra and the merchants, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. There were Vaelrin all around, living peacefully and working hard to make a better future for themselves. There were no wars. No armies. No place for a general. Even if they needed one, Alicia would serve them infinitely better than Helen would. If Helen vanished, nothing would change.

Their lives would all go on. The town would develop just fine without her help. Lyra would be sad for a little, but she had plenty of people to help her move on. Compared to how much life Lyra had to live, Helen's death would be just a minor bump in the road. The world would be better off without me. She had thought about it before. It would be easy. Her offensive magic was always stronger than her defense. One icicle to the back of the head, and she would be gone. She wouldn't even feel it.

The only reason she hadn't already was that she was worried about Lyra, but now? Now she knew there was nothing to be worried about at all. It was almost freeing. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Lyra didn't need her. Lyra was strong now. She would be fine on her own. Helen could disappear in peace. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something that drew her out of her own thoughts. On the side of the street, there was a young boy who climbed a tree.

He seemed to be going after a ball that had gotten stuck, but the branch he was on was cracked and bending dangerously far. Helen looked around. Not a single adult seemed to know he was there. The boy was in danger, yet no one noticed. Not even him. Helen turned to Lyra and Boris, but a fourth merchant had joined, and they were all occupied. She didn't want to ruin the conversation again.

She looked at the other people walking around the streets, hoping one of them would see, but the boy was too high up and far outside their line of sight. The only one who saw him was her. Suddenly, the branch snapped, and in an instant, years of instincts drilled into her flared up. As the boy finally fell, Helen ran toward him. She fired off a gust of wind magic. It was less elegant than her mastery of ice magic, but it was enough to cushion the boy's fall. In a few seconds, she managed to catch him in her arms.

The boy, understandably shocked by all of this, looked up at Helen as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Ma…Mama!" The boy cried, finally gaining people's attention. Lyra and Boris both ran to Helen as she let the child stand on his feet.

"He fell off the tree," Helen explained.

"I had to—""Good save, Helen!" Lyra said, before immediately turning to the child.

"Is he hurt?"

"He doesn't seem to be," Boris said, kneeling close to the boy to inspect him. Then, he patted the boy's head.

"No need to cry, kid. You didn't even get hurt. I had it worse back then, haha!" The two began comforting the child, as Helen stood on the sidelines. It seemed that he was scared that his parents would catch him, because they warned him not to climb anywhere dangerous, yet he did so anyway. The boy cried out that he will never climb again, and so, Lyra and Boris had to try harder to calm him down.

Lyra naturally went for a softer, gentler route, while Boris began cracking jokes to downplay the kid's childish behavior, some of them self-deprecating, but they were funny regardless. Eventually, they succeeded. Once done crying, the boy looked up at Helen.

"Uhm…" He still seemed snotty, but he suddenly closed his eyes.

"Thanks for saving me!" Immediately, he ran away. Before Helen knew it, the boy already disappeared as the sun began to set, and she felt an odd pang in her chest. Boris and the other merchants soon left, heading off to wherever they were set to go next. The town, now that it was afternoon, was starting to slow down. While the factories still remained loud and lit up in the distance, most adults were already starting to return to their homes to rest.

Lyra, who had a long day working, was now walking with Helen to their final destination for the day.

"Are you still doing alright?" asked Lyra, looking at Helen with concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine," said Helen with her best attempt at smile.

"I know it's a lot, but this is our last stop, okay?" said Lyra.

"Then we can head back to the palace." Helen nodded. Just one more stop, and it would be over. Back to the palace, and then later that night she would leave. She would find somewhere remote, out in the woods where no one would ever think to look, leaving a note behind so Lyra would know what happened and not to come looking for her. Helen frowned. For some reason, the idea didn't seem as enticing as it had just a couple hours ago.

"The man we're visiting, by the way, claims that he's a Grand Magi," Lyra casually said as the two walked.

"He's a very old gargoyle, maybe eighty or ninety years old? But he said that he was once a member of the Regency Council back then."

"Is that so…?" Helen asked as her eyes drifted to a lonely red flower on the side of the road. Whatever Lyra said afterward was lost to Helen, as her eyes continued to look at random things around them as they walked. At the very edge of the town, right on the south side, near the entrance, was a quaint, quiet house. It was newly built, something that would pass off as a middle-class residence in old Vael, the Royal Capital. It was definitely of higher quality than the average housing in Orevogorsk.

It was also gated, with a small garden outside. Not that it looked very well decorated or well used. In fact, there were still multiple crates and a carriage filled to the brim with books and other items parked inside, indicating that its owner only recently moved. Helen, however, didn't care about all of this. She just watched from the sidelines as Lyra called out politely for the owner to come out. Soon, an old man, much shorter than even Lyra, emerged.

He had a walking cane with him; his hair was gray, it bordered on white, and his beard was outrageously thick. Alongside that, the old man had a monocle on him, which only made him look even older.

"Lyra?" The old gargoyle seemed pleasantly shocked when he saw Lyra at the door.

"What brings you to my humble home?"

"Mikhail," Lyra said with a smile.

"I know your appointment wasn't until tomorrow, but I was already out and thought that I might stop by since I was already in the area. If you're busy, though—""Oh, no, no, not at all!" he said jovially.

"I always enjoy company! Come in, come in! And who's—?" Mikhail froze as he gave Helen a proper look for the first time. Helen looked back at him, eyes slowly widening.

"General Helen," he said.

"I didn't know you survived."

"Councillor Mikhail…" Mikhail stared at her for a few seconds, then broke out into a wide smile.

"What wonderful news! Now hurry up and come on in. The more the merrier!"