Chương 32: Chapter 30: Prime Cut (1)

"Don't challenge a Rumiosi with coin. That is our battlefield, and you are already surrounded." – Khalia Rumiosi, the Third Vazaag of Korsivir As Aloric descended the stairs with the others, more students from other classrooms joined the flow. Some were cheering. Some were crying. Some looked stunned enough that they might walk into a wall if their friends stopped guiding them. By the time he reached the main doors of the academy building, the corridors had become a river of voices.

He stepped outside into the courtyard. The autumn air was chilly despite the late afternoon sun. The sky was clear, the light pale gold as it spread across the courtyard.

Near the iron gates, parents and relatives waited in clusters. The moment students began emerging, those clusters broke apart. A girl hurried into her mother's embrace, laughing and crying at the same time. A boy was pulled into a rough hug by his older brother, who slapped his back hard enough to make him stumble. A stern-looking father clapped his son on the shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him forward. Several clan families stood with attendants behind them, their congratulations quieter but no less proud.

Aloric slowed. For a moment, something ached in his chest. He had never had that. Not parents waiting at the gate. Not a family house full of people ready to celebrate him. No one in the crowd calling his name. Then he stopped the thought. No. That was not fair. He did have a family. Perilia. She might not be waiting at the gate, but she had always been there for him. She had raised him, fed him, scolded him, worked for him, and carried more responsibility than any sister should have needed to carry.

Aloric swallowed and straightened. He had no right to think he had no family. He had Perilia. That was enough. He walked past the families and toward the iron gates. Near the road outside the academy, a pair of City Police officers in dark jackets moved quickly through the crowd. Their badges flashed silver on their chests as one of them vaulted over a cart and shouted for someone to stop. A lanky man farther ahead cursed and bolted down a side street. A petty thief, probably.

Aloric watched the officers give chase. Was that what Perilia did during the day? Chase fools through the city and write reports? Maybe sometimes. But that couldn't be all of it. Not if Arkazaan's bounty book had listed her as a B-ranked threat. Not if she had already become a Tarim. The thought faded as he reached the main road. He had something more important on his mind right now. Dinner. Perilia might come home late again today. She might be exhausted and pretend she was not.

But tonight, when she returned, there would be good food waiting for her. Aloric started jogging toward the central district, one hand slipping into his pocket to check how much money he had left on him. Seven gilens. Not much. But probably enough if he found a good discount. He knew a butcher's shop near the edge of the central market that sold decent meat cheaply during the slower hours before the evening rush. If he was lucky, he could get enough for a proper dinner.

If he was very lucky, maybe there would be a few gilens left to buy something sweet to celebrate his graduation. Maybe a small pastry. He grinned at the thought. He had graduated today. Even if he had passed with an average rank, even if he was probably going to the reserve force, he had graduated. Surely he was allowed to splurge a little. As much as seven gilens allowed, anyway. The central district was not too crowded yet.

The late afternoon sun fell warm across the roofs, and the chill in the air made the light feel even better on his skin. Office workers in the Administrative Compound—where the Vazaag worked—would still be inside. Factory workers in the southern district would not return home for a while either. The real evening crowd would not arrive for another couple of hours. That made it possible to jog along a road that was usually so busy even walking became difficult.

Aloric weaved through the lighter market traffic, passing vegetable stalls, cloth sellers, and two children arguing over a wooden toy sword. The smell of fried dough drifted from one corner, tempting him badly enough that he almost checked his coins again. No. Meat first. If anything remained, then a pastry. That's all he could afford today. Before long, he reached the shop he wanted, hoping he wasn't too late to catch the discount deals. As expected, there was still a line outside it despite the hour.

Not a long one, but enough to show that plenty of people knew the same trick he did. This shop sold decent meat at prices that even normal civilians could afford. He had never seen clan people buying from it, but that did not matter. He did not need prime cuts wrapped in fancy paper. Fresh, edible, affordable—those were the important qualities. The only qualities that mattered.

A few housewives already stood near the counter, watching the meat with the intensity of soldiers preparing for battle, while a pair of them were haggling over the prices with the owner of the shop. He waited near the side until two customers left and an opening appeared. He slipped forward. The portly shopkeeper looked up and smiled.

"Oh, Aloric! There y'are. Results were today, weren't they? How'd it go? You pass?" Aloric could not stop himself from grinning.

"I did! I'm going to be a registered manaweaver of Korsivir now."

"Well done, kid!" the man said.

"Always knew y'would. Now make sure y'keep our city safe from all those monsters outside the walls."

"Of course," Aloric said, lifting his chin.

"You'll have nothing to fear. I'll even defeat a dragon if one dares to attack us!" The shopkeeper laughed.

"Course y'would. Dragon won't know what hit it." A woman beside Aloric gave him an impatient look. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The shopkeeper turned back to him.

"So, what're you buying today?"

"I wanted to cook some meat tonight. To celebrate my graduation." Aloric pulled the coins from his pocket.

"Do you have anything left with a good discount? I only have seven gilens today." The shopkeeper's smile turned apologetic.

"Ah, sorry, lad. Too late for the discounted stock. Sold out already." Aloric's shoulders slumped. Guess I was late this time...

"All right," he said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

"What do you have left? Maybe I can buy a smaller portion." The shopkeeper looked at him for a moment. Then his head tilted.

"Actually... y'know what? Might still have somethin' in the back of the freezer. Forgot about it in the rush." He wiped his hands on his apron.

"Hold there a moment." He shuffled into the back. Aloric waited, trying not to hope too much. The shopkeeper returned carrying a solid chunk of frozen meat wrapped in rough paper. Aloric's eyes widened. That looked good, and it was a big piece too. In fact, it looked much better than anything he had expected from forgotten stock.

"Here," the man said, setting it down on the counter.

"Need t' clear space before the new stock comes in tonight. Stock-clearing rate, if y'want it."

"How much?"

"Should be eight..." The shopkeeper squinted as if calculating.

"Nah, six gilens'll cover it for today."

"Just six?" Aloric asked before he could stop himself. One of the women beside him snapped upright." Six gilens? Why didn't you show that earlier?" The shopkeeper spread both hands.

"Told y', I forgot it was there."

"That is practically free!"

"Then next time, remind me what's in my freezer," he said cheerfully. Then he looked at Aloric.

"You buyin' it or not?"

"Yes," Aloric said quickly.

"I am!" He handed over six gilens before anyone else could argue the chance away from him. The shopkeeper packed the frozen meat properly and passed it over.

"There y'go. Congratulations again, lad."

"Thank you," Aloric said, clutching the package, feeling grateful that the man had forgotten about it until now. He left the shop before the angry housewives could decide the fairest solution was to skin him instead. Once he reached the side street, he slowed enough to look at the single remaining gilen in his palm. Not enough for the pastry he had wanted. Probably not enough for any good sweets unless he found another miracle discount, and expecting two miracles in the same afternoon seemed greedy. Ah, well.

It didn't matter. This was good meat. Better than he had hoped for. With the vegetables he had bought yesterday, it would make a proper dinner. A celebration dinner, even if it was a small one. He tucked the coin away and started jogging toward home. The sun had dipped lower by the time he turned into the familiar street. The light was warmer now, stretching long shadows across the road. The streetlights had not come on yet, leaving the lane caught between afternoon and evening. Aloric slowed in front of his door.

For a moment, he stood there with the wrapped meat in one hand, still feeling the strange, bright disbelief inside him. He had passed. He had really passed! Then he smiled, lifted his free hand, and pushed mana into the runes on the door. The rune glowed green for a moment. The door clicked open.

Aloric stepped inside and found the house dark. For a moment, he stopped just past the door, one hand still on the handle. Had he closed all the curtains in the morning? He usually left one of them open, just enough to let a little afternoon light into the room without wasting electricity. They could afford to use the lights, but not carelessly. Perilia had drilled that into him years ago, back when he had been too short to reach half the shelves but apparently tall enough to leave every light in the house on.

No matter. He knew where everything was. Aloric shut the door behind him with one hand, holding the wrapped meat carefully in the other. Their rented house was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every creak of the floorboards sound too loud. He started toward the sitting room wall, where the light switch had been placed in one of the stupidest possible locations. One day, he swore he would live in a house where the switch was beside the door like a sensible person had designed it.

This place was old, built before electricity had reached most poorer homes in the Eastern District, so the switches had been added later, placed wherever the workers could shove them into the walls without tearing everything apart. Probably while laughing at everyone who would have to stumble through the dark for the next few decades. The darkness also meant Perilia was not home. Of course she wasn't. Aloric let out a slow breath. That was expected. She had work. Too much work, lately.

The City Police had been pulling her into long days and even longer nights. He had already known she probably wouldn't return before midnight. Maybe even later. Maybe she would come home half-dead on her feet, insist she was fine, and then almost fall asleep at the table unless he nagged her into going to bed. Still, a small part of him had hoped. He had passed. He had actually passed... He wanted to shout it at the top of his voice. And there was no one waiting to hear it.

Aloric tightened his grip on the package of meat, then forced himself to smile. It was fine. He would cook something good. When Perilia came back, he would tell her everything. She would ruffle his hair, say she had known all along, and act unbearably smug for at least a month. That was enough. He started toward the switch. The room exploded with light. Aloric flinched so hard he nearly dropped the meat. For a heartbeat, all he saw was white.

He blinked rapidly, half-reaching for a skel he wasn't carrying, before his eyes adjusted. Perilia stood beside the wall, one hand still on the switch, grinning at him like she had just pulled off the greatest ambush in Korsivir's history. She was still wearing her City Police jacket, which meant she had probably come home only recently.

"Congratulations on graduating, kiddo!" Then she started clapping and cheering. Loudly. Far too loudly for their small house. Aloric stared at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"That is your first question?" Perilia asked, still clapping as she walked toward him. His gaze moved past her to the dining table. A cake sat in the middle of it. Not a large one, but definitely a cake. A proper one. Pale icing covered the top, with a few uneven lines of blue decoration crossing the surface and tiny sugar skels pressed around the edge.

There were no numbers, no fancy message on it, nothing like what rich families probably bought from expensive bakeries, but it looked like someone had added the little skels and decorations in a hurry and still tried to make it special. Aloric looked back at his sister.

"That's a cake."

"Very good. Graduation clearly improved your observation skills."" Funny. Wait, how did you know already that I graduated? It has barely been an hour since I found out! Shouldn't you be working at this time?" Perilia clicked her tongue.

"Slow down, kiddo. You came home as a manaweaver, saw your loving sister waiting with a cake, and instead of thanking her, you immediately started interrogating her like she was a suspect."

"You surprised me in a dark room."

"Yes. Beautifully."

"That's exactly what a suspect would say." Perilia laughed and stepped closer. Then she placed both hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Her grin softened.

"I knew you could do it," she said.

"I'm proud of you!" Something inside his chest shifted. Aloric had pictured this moment on the walk home. He had imagined having this conversation casually, maybe while putting the meat away, maybe while pretending he had never been worried. He had imagined Perilia cheering. He had imagined rolling his eyes when she messed up his hair. He had not imagined that hearing those words would make his chest tighten so much.

"Thank you, sis," he whispered. Perilia's hands immediately rose toward his hair. Aloric reacted on instinct. His hands started to rise to protect his head, ready to deflect the attack. Then he stopped. For once, he let his hands fall back to his sides. Perilia's fingers sank into his blue hair and ruffled it with absolutely no mercy. He did not complain. Not even a little. Perilia paused, suspicious.

"What is this?"

"What?"

"You're not stopping me today." Aloric grinned.

"I am happy enough right now that I don't mind. Mess it up as much as you want." Perilia stared at him for a moment. Then she snorted and removed her hand.

"No fun in that."

"You're impossible."

"Old news." She hooked one arm around his shoulders and dragged him toward the dining table.

"Come on. You need to cut the cake. It's not a big one, but it was all I could find on short notice." Aloric let himself be pulled along, still glancing between her and the cake.

"I really thought you'd be at the office."

"I was at the office," Perilia said.

"Then I heard the news and took a half-day before someone could drag me into another urgent matter."

"I thought you were too busy with that case to take a leave?"" Half day," she corrected.

"Don't make it sound more irresponsible than it was."

"Fine," Aloric chuckled.

"Anyway, since when can you just hear academy results before the student even reaches home?" Perilia's grin returned.

"I have my sources."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting." Aloric snorted as he opened the fridge and carefully placed the wrapped meat inside. Perilia's eyes followed the package at once.

"What is that?"