Chương 67: 2 – Something to Strive For

Walking with the staff was strange. There was no more or less pain when holding it. My ankle still hurt… but it didn't hurt to walk on. Or run on for that matter. Somehow, the staff made the injury feel like it was always at rest, even when I was up and moving around. So it still hurt the same as it did while I wasn't moving it, but I could walk. Convenient but also a little creepy. I wasn't going to complain, though. Hell, I'd made the thing.

Mobile for the first time in three days, I walked into the bar with what felt like a triumphant return. There was even a little cheer from many of the locals and the remaining Mitoras refugees who'd been too injured to follow the army. I didn't know them well, but they had heard plenty of my stories during the past few weeks.

"Naska! Mera!" came a loud exclamation, and I turned to see Dobretin rising from his chair and moving to greet us.

"What, no hello for me?" Nemmikel said irritably as he walked in behind me, and Eysee followed him in last.

"Of course, Michael, hello as always. No offense, but you're just not as surprising to see as young Mera. Why? How? Surely you didn't…" The word desert was left unsaid, but I frowned at the implication. Mom was less circumspect, scowling openly. She was about to speak, but I cut in before she could.

"I was hurt," I said.

"In Mitoras. I only got back today. Mom came and got me with Stoutgruff, and Nemmilkel is being kind enough to loan me his walking staff while I'm healing, so I can get around." The lie should hold up. Mom hadn't left my side since we'd returned, and she'd stayed inside with me for the better part of three days. Only Normuran, Eysee, and now Nemmikel knew the truth. Dobretin's eyes narrowed, and I knew that high diplomacy had given him something. Even so, he knew enough to keep his mouth shut.

"Elmerina!" came a sudden shout, as Korlotom leapt up from the hunters' usual table and rushed over to greet us.

"Mera!? How… why are you here? Is Reid with you?" I winced, and the hunter's excited gaze weakened by a fraction.

"The… the last I saw Reid, he was alright. There was an ambush. I was sent back due to my injury," I repeated woodenly. I'd been hoping Reid's dad would be out on a hunt. Heavens knew we were going to need more food, so the odds had been likely. Mom had been hiding her teleportation ability for my entire life. I thought she'd be willing to share more with Tom, Bret, and a few others in a more private setting, but for now, he'd have to accept the lie.

"And he didn't come back with you?" Tom asked incredulously.

"He didn't exactly get a choice in the matter," I said bitterly. I wasn't angry at Mom. It was my own damn stupidity that got me in trouble in the first place, but I wished she'd somehow been able to get Dad and Reid, too. Oxana and Teskin. Uleno. Mularet Fisher, and the others that I'd met for such a short time. Hell, I might as well ask for the moon while I was at it. Tom gritted his teeth.

"I'd… have felt better if you were with him, but I suppose I can't stop the will of the gods."

"I would've preferred to be with him, too, sir," I said.

"Was he alright? My boy?" he asked.

"Make a good showing of himself? The army's never what I wanted for him, but I always thought he'd do well there." I smiled, thinking of Reid. He'd been a bloody mess after he'd been hit by that wind attack, but he'd responded with a speed that put me in awe. He hadn't hesitated to attack a fucking dragon. More than once. Who… who was Reid, really? His father showed little of his son's bravery in that moment. He'd always been a little intimidating before.

He was a tall man with wavy black hair and muscles decked with scars. His skin was more deeply tanned than his son's, and the wolves' pelt he occasionally wore certainly didn't quell the barbarian hunter motif he had going on. In that moment, though, Korlotom looked like a terrified parent who was trying not to show how afraid he really was.

"He… he saved my life. He's going to be one hell of a soldier, Mr. Hunter," I told him, hoping to god I wasn't lying.

"You… uh. You raised a good one." He grinned.

"Course I did…"

"I hate to interrupt, but if you were injured near Mitoras, does that mean we need to expect more of the damn goblins?" Dobretin asked.

"I was very much looking forward to telling everyone we could end the patrols." I shook my head. The attack had been nearly a day's walk south of Mitoras. At least thirty or forty miles from here. That wasn't nearly far enough for my comfort, and I had no idea whether the rift spawn or the army was winning outside of our battle with the supposed "Queen of Eschal."

"Don't end the patrols," I said.

"In fact, if you can add more people to them, you should." He gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.

"I was afraid you were going to say that. I guess at least we'll have a bit of a moral boost as long as you can stay."

"I hope to be able to give you a bit more than that," I said, glancing at his need bubble. It still required Paper, Ink, and Ether Dust, but the quantities had all gone down significantly. Had distance made the heart grow fonder? Maybe he'd just missed my stories. Either way, his need hadn't changed. He still needed it to keep track of food supplies, and that made a lot more sense now.

"How much ink did you say you had when I first told you what I'd need for you?" Taking eighty percent of a town's produce might be a death sentence if it had actually been carried out, but that was precisely why Maulander had demanded eighty percent. He knew he would never get it. At most, I'd be surprised if he got more than sixty percent from each farmer in town. What he had gotten was most of what farmers intended to sell for profit. All we had left was the rations required to get through the winter. That stung.

Worse, still, all that food the army had taken might be rotting in wagons on the side of the road right now… The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Our food supply had to stretch. I assumed Dobretin's need would be a journal of some sort, but at the time I'd been prioritizing weapons, and I was also a bit iffy about creating anything involving ink, considering the lightshow Mom's need had made. Oppa shook his head.

"I haven't managed to find any more of the stuff since you asked. No traders have been through. I do still have a small jug of ink, but you said it wasn't enough last time."

"The requirements have lowered a bit. I'd like to try again," I said.

"I also really need to get in touch with Sebinet. Did he finally change his name to Miner?"

"He did," Dobretin said with a grin.

"Sebinet Miner evim Smith. He made a joke the other day that without you around, he might have to change it back."

"Well, he doesn't have to worry about that anymore. I need to get to know him better. I really think what I can make for him will help the town. We need the mine's metal." Dobretin paused at those words, thinking them over.

"You'll be staying a long while then?" Dobretin asked, eyes hopeful.

"I'd have thought you'd want to get back to… your father." Nice save. I turned to look down at my splinted foot. I had a couple of layers of thick socks on but no shoe. Even with the splint, it still faced the wrong direction, bending a little farther outward than normal. It was unsettling to look at. I spoke at the same time Mom started to, and blinked as she gestured for me to go on. I turned back to Dobretin, irritated.

"I didn't exactly volunteer. I was drafted. I'm not particularly eager to go back for anything except my Dad and Reid. Until I'm fully healed, that's a moot point." I said with a scowl.

"Until I have to make that decision, the least I can do is help turn this place into a fortress."

"A fortress?" Korlotom asked.

"So… the war will continue for that long?" I grimaced. I'd had a lot of time to think about how the battle had started over the past three days of healing. Over that time, a quiet anger had been building.

"The general walked us right into a trap. I still can't believe that. He's incompetent, at the very least. What kind of army gets ambushed by goblins and trolls? They aren't exactly quiet," I told them.

"I don't think we can depend on the central army. Maybe Neogon is different." I doubted it. My faith in the rift border armies had been shattered.

"He is," Mom said.

"There's a reason we haven't seen a single Eschal soldier here. The border is closer than the rift. Neogon is fighting to protect us."

"All the same, I'd rather not put this town's fate in his hands, Mom. Certainly not in Maulander's. We should arm everybody," I said. Dobretin seemed hesitant.

"I had intended to lean on Sebinet for metals that we might trade in Denarla for more food." I frowned.

"Is the food situation that bad?" He winced.

"It's not good. I don't know exactly. Some people managed to hold on to more than others, but they're under no obligation to share. It'll be worse if one of the farmers or the miller decides to raise their prices in response to this. I think we're going to need food." I shook my head, addressing Dobretin.

"Denarla is more than happy to pull our people away instead of actually sending help. I wouldn't be surprised if they confiscated our metal and sent us on our way with nothing."

"You noticed that as well, did you?" Nemmikel asked.

"Rubbed me wrong when I heard about Hadra. Not that she didn't deserve it, mind. Just the timing." I flushed. I was still ashamed that I'd been so focused on the 'honor' of being called into the Duchess's service that I'd overlooked the fact that she'd done so in the middle of a war. I was… a bit more naive then. My eyes were open now.

"It was Reid who pointed it out," I said. Tom smiled at the praise for his son.

"Anyway, we're going to have to make sure Pemolar's Hill survives this war ourselves. That means weapons, and to make weapons, we'll need the mines. I don't want to be like Dad's Rechin border town, changing hands and masters every time an army marches through. Oppa, I think if I can get your need created the food situation won't be so dire. Mom, can you–?" I turned a little and jumped when I spotted Mom, Nemmikel, and Eysee all staring at me with odd expressions on their faces.

"What?" I asked them.

"Nothing," Mom said with an amused smile.

"Just wondering if you'll give anyone else a chance to speak." I flushed, suddenly, realizing exactly how I was coming across. Had I just ordered Oppa how to use Sebinet's metal?

"Oh. I… uhm… sorry."

"You haven't thought things through," Dobretin interrupted. He sounded apologetic but genuine.

"If we start making weapons, that begins to look an awful lot like treason." I scowled.

"It's not treason to protect your home!"

"It doesn't matter if it is or isn't. You want to stir Denarla from its complacency? Let rumors of a peasant militia reach them. We'll be dead before the first day of Freeze!" Dobretin replied. Your Diplomacy skill has improved! I wanted to bite out a retort, but I held my tongue, filing that idea away. If Denarla came prepared to fight a militia and instead encountered an army of rift monsters, it was a net win as far as I was concerned.

"Bret, my daughter has just seen her first battle. She is angry and hot-headed, but I don't think she's wrong. She does not mean we should advertise our armament to the world. We were lucky my husband's talent improved when it did, but we can't depend on that for another attack." I bristled. I wanted to be irritated, but she was right. I did feel angry and hot-headed. I wanted to do something. I wanted to kill that murderous bitch before she hurt anyone else cared about. I wanted to destroy the rift!

I wanted to go to Denarla and round up an army! I wanted my hunter back… I wanted my Dad.

"Things like this always leak out, Atrinaska. Always. Still, if the rift monsters are truly so close…? I'll have to think about it. I'll need to speak with Normuran, Edra, Lupkep, and a few others. Get a gauge of what the town wants to do as a whole, in light of this news. Crafting war weapons though…" That would be too slow. We wouldn't be ready.

"You weren't there," I snapped, before lowering my voice. I didn't want a panic to start, but he wasn't understanding the magnitude of the threat.

"I was digging my head in the sand too, but Eschal is here, and they have at least partial control of the rift monsters." He gasped. Tom and Eysee did, too. Even Mom started. She hadn't seen the woman flying on the dragon.

"I… I see," he said, finally looking truly startled.

"We aren't going to decide anything here at the bar," Nemmikel said, injecting himself as the voice of reason, which felt quite odd. The role didn't fit him very well.

"Let's just sleep on this and see if we can come to an agreement after we've had some food and Mera's off her feet." That did sound wonderful… but…

"I was hoping to tell a story," I said softly. Dobretin smiled.

"By all means, Lady Storyteller. All of us could use something to smile about." I snickered, but began walking towards my stage. I wasn't up for standing on it tonight, so instead I figured I'd just sit on the table. I had the perfect story about a nation letting down a veteran and forcing him to switch sides to the rebels, but I decided against it. That might be a bit too on the nose.

Tacuria's army had let me down, shattered some images I'd held of them, but they were still the only wall between us and the rift.... For now.

"So… does this mean I can't have a crossbow like, Ells?" Eysee asked, following me toward the stage. I laughed as I gingerly hopped up onto the table. Just because my foot didn't hurt didn't mean it wasn't vulnerable to further damage. It was actually even more vulnerable, as I might not be able to tell if I hurt it worse, so I made sure to be very careful with it. When I was finally seated, most of the crowd had turned to hear. Two notable exceptions were glaring at me.

I watched them both storm out of the bar and into the fading afternoon light. I grimaced. Owinda and Pretyr had not forgiven me. I'd… have to talk with them.