Chương 39: 38 – A Short Walk Home

Mom seemed gloomy. She was quiet while we walked past frantic people spreading the word. Four parts in five. I heard a lot of phrases that were unfamiliar to me, but many of the older folks seemed to just understand and nod without needing more context.

"Use the old methods," and "War rations," and "Bury the bread." There were a few bitter utterances of "Luck favors the sharpened blade," too. Reid had gone home, as well, and I found that I missed him more than I ever had before. The feeling was becoming downright irritating, but it wouldn't go away.

'How much easier might killing those goblins have been if Reid had been there?' I thought.

"That was a good idea you had," Mom said suddenly as we walked.

"Not really," I replied.

"It's just going to annoy Maulander and probably ruin the entire journey back for the brigade. He probably won't even travel with the wagons, so it won't even affect him."

"Small as it may be, it's a way to fight back. Maulander is a brute, and he doesn't give a damn about his people. You heard that healer. He inspires no loyalty. He will die in this war," she said.

"Making a lot of assumptions there, Mom," I said, skeptically.

"Also, were you spying on the bar?"

"A good leader inspires loyalty and surrounds themselves with people they can trust, and who are capable in their own right. The soldiers in that room were angry with his treatment of the Mayor. Not happy," she replied, ignoring my question.

"Does that matter if they're too scared to do anything?" I asked.

"It matters. It matters a great deal. An attack will come. A dragon, a troll, a kerlunka, or a vesper. Maybe even an Eschal soldier. The attack will be something a loyal platoon could protect him from. They won't raise their shields, and he will die. That is what being an ass buys you in war times. He's only been allowed to prosper so much due to the peace we've had these last few years. His brother was the same." His brother. I filed that tidbit away.

"I thought I was the prophet here," I said.

"In my experience, the assholes get ahead, the rich get richer, and the general survives while the soldier dies." She eyed me. That same worried look she'd been giving me for days now. Ever since I'd gotten my talent. We hadn't actually seen much of each other, with her taking up permanent residence at the pepper pit, tackling the fire spellbook, and me confined to the bar.

"And when did you get so jaded?" she asked. The tone wasn't joking.

"It's not being jaded, it's being realistic. Sure, I bet there will be an attack, but he won't be there to face it. He'll be sitting three miles behind the people it hits, drinking iced tea and milk, and telling other people where they should die from his gilded tent, or whatever."

"Generals aren't supposed to fight, dear," she said.

"They're supposed to direct."

"Sure. Preferably from as far away from the actual battle as possible," I said.

"You think the general is a coward, then?" I paused. He had probably been in his fair share of fights to get where he was now, right?

"I… don't know. Maybe? He's here, instead of on the rift border, gathering supplies. That sounds like a supply officer's job to me. The only reason it makes sense for him to come here is if he expected resistance to his robbery and didn't think his officers could enforce the order as he could. I guess we'll know for certain if he leaves out the west gate or the east." She nodded, pleased with my line of thought. We were quiet for a little while while we walked.

"You're… sure you're feeling alright, Mera? Haven't been working too hard? First the troll in your lab, then the attack, and now the beach. You aren't looking for these attacks, are you?" she asked softly. That was an abrupt change in topic.

"Of course not," I insisted.

"Why would I do that!?"

"I… I don't know. It's just. I don't want you to work yourself too hard. You're perfect the way you are. You always have been, and you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. Least of all me. You know that, right?"

"You're weirding me out, Mom. What's going on?"

"I…" she hesitated, then shook her head.

"No. It's nothing. We'll talk about it another time. For now, we have more important things to deal with."

"Things like you telling me who you were?" I asked, brimming with excitement.

"I've never heard of any scribe that carries around a sword like that one, Mom." She rolled her eyes.

"It's talent crafted. Wearing it improves Mana regeneration, which is the main reason I've set aside some time for us tonight. We're going to be heading to the lab. You need to learn two very important skills now that you're old enough." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Mana Pool, and Mana Regeneration, right?" I asked, excited.

"Exactly. If you're smart, you'll have hoarded a small stockpile of free points right now, yes?" she asked. I winced.

"I spent some of them on Endurance and Running. A few other skills to help me get to know people easier."

"Everyone and anyone will tell you Endurance is one of the most important skills you can add points to. I will never discourage more points in something that gets you away from danger either. As to the social skills… well. I suppose that depends on how many points you've managed to stock up so far? Will it truly help you craft for people that much faster?"

"I made Hadra's second need on the walk to the bar from the guard captain's camp. All I needed was a stick and a rock," I said.

"Eight free points. Took about five minutes."

"She is your best friend, though. That's not necessarily indicative of your overall point gain. Also, only eight? I was sure her weaving was much higher than eighty." I was brought out of the conversation, suddenly reminded of what I was finally going to discover tonight. Sometimes Mom just… didn't talk like everyone else. Indicative?

"I wondered about that, too. Diminishing returns for second needs, it seems. Next need, next strongest skill. Hers was multitasking, by the way," I said.

"Unsurprising. Still, that does lower the priority of the social skills a tad," she murmured.

"I thought that would make me better at using my talent. Investing in foundations," I said.

"After all, wouldn't it be better if I could just drop one hundred points into whatever skill I need at the time?" Mom shook her head.

"Social skills are arbitrary. Even if your networking skill was in the two hundreds, I don't know if you'd be able to win Normuran over," she joked.

"That man holds grudges for way too long," I agreed.

"I was never even one of the kids who pranked him!" Mom smiled fondly, but her expression didn't reach her eyes. The bridge was quiet at night but there were sounds of merriment coming from the east. Rows and rows of tents and cook fires added levity to the night. Men were hauling back even more trees from the ever-growing plain between our farm and the woods. Fresh wood burned poorly but with this many soldiers, it didn't matter. They got the fires burning anyway.

"Only a few short weeks ago, I would've definitely encouraged improving them. Unfortunately…" she grimaced, staring out at the impromptu war camp. The ground would be trodden and muddy next time it rained.

"We don't choose the times we live in. Just how we respond to them. With the war on, I'd suggest a balanced approach of skills to get away from danger, defend yourself, and, tertiarily, improve your social skills. Mana skills are a distant fourth after you've trained them up a bit. How many points have you kept?" I grimaced.

"I've been holding on to them. Part of me wants to spend them on fighting skills since the war is on, and the other part wants to spend them on ways to get to know people better for my talent. Then there's the fire magic. I was waiting to talk to you, but..."

"... But I've barely been home for ten minutes in the past five days. Omoali is still angry at me for not being there to look for the twins. I didn't even know they'd gone missing until after you'd been hurt.

"That's not your fault. Your fire magic is going to really help! I've seen what you can do…" The poor rocks and trees around the pepper pit had too.

"When I do manage to get away for a few minutes, it's all I can do to not just lie down and breathe. The stink and the fumes get to you after a while…"

"Wanted to ask about that, too. The peppers… do we give them to Maulander?" I asked.

"The rotting skins are more of a joke, but the army could use the pepper spray. By the way, it doesn't work so great on goblins as it does on trolls."

"Good to know," Mom replied, staring down at me. She kept staring until things grew awkward.

"Uh… what?" I asked.

"I… Heavens, Mera, you could have died. Three times in the past two weeks!" she exclaimed.

"I just… I hate this war. I hate all war." I reached out to give Mom a hug, and she folded into it, squeezing me tight, but careful not to jostle my injured shoulder.

"Why didn't you ask the other healers at the Bar to look at this?" she asked as we pulled apart. I shrugged.

"Kinda forgot about it. It doesn't really hurt anymore. Just stings a little. It'll be fine in a day or two."

"Ask Healer Ake in the morning," she insisted.

"Or possibly Normuran. I might need to have a talk with the man. He has always had a soft spot for me." I nodded. I probably didn't need it, but Mom was right. I had come uncomfortably close to death three times in as many weeks. It might be best to be as healthy as I could be for whatever was coming next.

"As for Maulander… perhaps we give him a barrel? Let Joenal hand it to him? If he wants it, he'll have it, and then we might have two customers. I'd rather give it to Neogon." I shook my head.

"That's… shortsighted, Mom. Neogon's fighting Eschal. Fighting people. People who, up until a few years ago, were famous for having someone named "The Chemist" as one of their leaders. They're going to have ways to stop pepper spray. Rift monsters won't." I'd always been curious about that. Until rumors started coming out of Eschal, no one had really ever heard the word "Chemistry" before, and no one, including Mom, really knew what it was.

It excited me to think that there might be someone else who'd seen memories of Earth like me there, but it wasn't like I'd be able to just ask for an audience. Especially when the latest rumors assumed she'd died.

"Perhaps you're right," Mom concluded after a long pause for thought.

"We'll talk to your father about it and see what he thinks. What was the General's need, anyway?"

"Something to keep him from being confused. The supply cost was enormous, and I wouldn't make anything for that asshole, anyway. Uncle Marnakus needed something similar."

"Keep him from being confused… hmm," she shrugged.

"Well, if he's going to be gone tomorrow, it won't matter much to us, anyway. Best we get to the matter at hand. Training you."

"And telling me about your past! You promised!" I insisted. The woman grimaced.

"And… talking about who I was before," she agreed reluctantly. We were finally in sight of the farmhouse, but getting to my lab required following the road past our fields, so we ignored it. It was occupied at the moment, anyway.

"How many free points do you have right now?" she asked.

"Ninety-five," I said.

"Gods… ninety-five," she said.

"And you already spent some of them?"

"Sixty-five or so, yeah," I said. I was still embarrassed by the two points I'd wasted on combat. She blinked. Shook herself.

"By the gods, you will shake this world, Mera."

"I'm awesome," I bragged. She eyed me again. That same look she'd been giving me lately. Worry, mixed with fear, mixed with… guilt maybe.

"I know you are," she agreed. Feeling uncomfortable with the melancholy in her tone, I decided to change the subject.

"So… what's up with you and Maulander? Did'ja date him in High School? Bad breakup? Eh? Eh?" She looked at me, while I raised my eyebrows suggestively, grinning, knowing she had no idea what High School was.

"I've raised a monster," she said flatly.