Chương 105: Chapter 102 - Travelin' Ivy

Chelsea Chelsea sucked in a quick breath through her teeth. The letter trembled slightly in her hands as she reread the line. Adriane's handwriting was uneven, with several words spelled the way they sounded. Chelsea had become better at reading it over the last month. After a long talk Ivy made her mind up to go home to see dad her brothr was fownd dead and she said she needs to tell dad what she was told by the gild Chelsea stared at the page. She had so many questions. Was anyone going with her?

How far away was leaf village from Junstruce? Was Ivy planning to stay there? Surely her mother would escort her. Adriane would not let Ivy travel alone. She couldn't. Not after everything. Not with Chelsea gone and unable to do anything but sit in Valhalla and read a letter days after the decision had already been made.

"Everything OK Havoc?" Passion asked from over on the bed. Chelsea looked up. Passion sat cross-legged on the mattress with her sword across her lap. A whetstone rested in one hand, and she had been preparing to sharpen the blade for what had to be the seventh time that morning. The motion stopped when she noticed Chelsea's face.

"I don't know," Chelsea said quietly.

"Ivy left Junstruce to travel to her hometown. Apparently her brother was killed." Passion's expression changed immediately.

"Oh shit, my condolences." Chelsea lowered the letter to the desk.

"Oh no, the fact he's dead is more good news than not for me but she's heading home to inform her father of the details. I just don't know who's going with her. Surely my mother isn't letting her go alone." Passion shifted the sword off her lap and set the whetstone beside her knee.

"Would she not be able to handle a long trip alone? What leve… nevermind. Wixx secrets."

"No, it's fine, she's twenty-six. Or well she was four months ago. I don't know what to do."

"Whoa, how old is she exactly? With elves she could be thirteen or she could be eighty eight and look the exact same." Chelsea smiled faintly and gave a small nod. The question was fair. Elves made age feel entirely unreliable.

"She's nineteen. And yeah our guildmaster in Junstruce is one of those. I have no clue how old she is. She's old but looks younger than Ivy." The room went quiet. Chelsea felt Passion staring at her and looked over. Passion's expression had shifted. She was not angry at Chelsea exactly, but there was definitely something close to offense in the way she held herself.

"I really hate your family sometimes. Nineteen and level twenty-six? I was… I don't know, low teens? mid-teens, maybe?" Chelsea folded the letter carefully.

"Yeah she got a major Adriane Wixx boost. That's for sure." Passion looked away and picked up the whetstone again, though she did not start sharpening.

"Would you be worried if I went on a long journey like that?" Passion asked. Chelsea thought about it for a few seconds. She looked at Passion's size, the sword across the bed, the armor arranged nearby, and the confidence that never fully left her even when she was sitting in their ridiculous pink-and-white room.

"No. But it's different. You're a warrior-type class. She's a mage."

"Don't underestimate her. Instead cheer her on and have faith that Freya will protect her in her travels." Chelsea gave a small shrug and nodded, even though she knew Freya too well at this point to fully accept the comfort. Freya's sphere of influence barely reached beyond Valhalla's gates. Chelsea knew that. Still, Passion was right about one thing. Ivy deserved faith, not panic. That did not make the fear leave. It sat beneath her ribs while she looked over at the servicer standing quietly near the wall.

It wore Ivy's mage robe today. The fabric carried the faint flowery scent of the shampoo Ivy still used, preserved by the dirty clothes. The smell kept Ivy present.

"Are you ever going to use that thing?" Passion asked, noticing her stare.

"I use it everyday," Chelsea replied. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Havoc." Passion sounded exasperated.

"Use it for its real purpose. I feel bad for the poor thing at this point. You just use it as a dress up doll." Chelsea smiled at the golem.

"I get more out of it than you know." Passion shrugged and looked toward her own five servicers lined neatly along the other side of the room. Chelsea knew Passion wanted her to try it. Not because she was trying to pressure her exactly, but because Passion seemed convinced Chelsea was missing something obvious and important.

"Have you used it at all since we got it?"

"Not for the purposes you're thinking." Passion rolled her head to the side.

"Havoc." Chelsea ignored the tone and reached into Bradford's aquarium instead. The tiny tortoise stood beneath his little tree on the sand, perfectly content on her desk while she wrote letters. Chelsea stroked the top of his head with one finger before standing. She crossed the room to the servicer. The golem did not react as she approached. It stood patiently in Ivy's robe, blank-faced and still, waiting for whatever instruction Chelsea might give.

She stepped close enough for the scent of Ivy's shampoo to reach her properly and pressed her face into the fabric. For a second, she let herself pretend.

"Please, hug me." The servicer obeyed immediately. Its arms came around her with gentle pressure. Chelsea kept her own hands tucked tight to her chest as the robe surrounded her with that familiar flowery smell. It was not Ivy. It would never be Ivy. But it was something she could hold onto while Ivy was traveling somewhere far away, grieving a brother Chelsea was not sad to hear was dead.

"That's really sad to watch," Passion said as she tied off the end of the whetstone with some sort of cordage. Chelsea ignored her and stayed where she was. The pressure of the golem's arms was light and obedient. It would stop the moment she asked. That made it easier. It gave her comfort without demanding anything back. Then someone knocked at the door. Chelsea opened her eyes. Passion stopped moving. They looked at each other from opposite sides of the room.

No one knocked on another Valkyr's door unless they had been expressly invited. Chelsea had never heard anyone explain that rule, but everyone followed it. The sound felt wrong. Passion rose from the bed and crossed the room quietly. Chelsea stepped back from the servicer and straightened Ivy's robe where her face had wrinkled it. Passion reached the door, placed one hand against it, and cracked it open just wide enough to speak to whoever stood outside while preventing them from seeing into the room.

"Get ready. We are going to battle in two hours." Absolutes' deep voice carried through the crack in the door with no ceremony at all. Passion straightened on the other side of the room. The whetstone remained tied off in her hand, forgotten for the moment.

"Ok." She gave a firm nod and started to close the door. A loud thunk struck the wood before it could shut fully.

"If Havoc is in there, let her know too. They specifically requested Havoc be present." Chelsea's eyes widened. She slipped free of the servicer's arms and crossed the room quickly, stopping behind Passion so she could hear better. The comfort of Ivy's robe and the letter on the desk were forgotten.

"Is it that bad?" Passion asked.

"It is unclear at this time." Absolutes' heavy steps moved away from their door and continued down the hall toward the next room. Passion stayed where she was until the footsteps faded, then slowly closed the door. She looked back at Chelsea. That was not great news. Chelsea understood what was running through Passion's mind. Passion went to battle often enough that the order itself should not have shaken her.

A month earlier, however, Passion had been called to battle and Chelsea had specifically been told not to join. Havoc meant something different. If someone was requesting the Valkyr of Havoc, they were not asking for a polite battlefield inspection. They were expecting bodies. Chelsea looked toward the special bag near her desk.

"I uh… I guess this is the time where I'm supposed to level up." Her voice came out slower than she intended. She walked to the desk and pulled the bag free from the space beneath it. The weight of it felt heavier than it should have as it was a slotted bag. An elephant could be inside and it wouldn't feel a pound of it. Inside were the broken high classification pieces her mother had packed for her before she left Junstruce. Chelsea had known this moment would come. She had told herself she was ready for it.

Now that the order had arrived, she found herself wishing for another hour. Another day. Another letter from home.

"Are you sure?" Passion asked.

"This means you can't go back. Even wearing one ring will give you more attribute points than your current gear does." Chelsea held the bag against her chest for a moment. The room around her was still absurdly soft and pink. Bradford sat in his aquarium on the desk. Ivy's robe hung from the servicer. Her latest letter from home lay folded beside the ink. All of it belonged to the part of Chelsea that wanted to stay exactly where she was. Battle did not care. Chelsea nodded slowly.

"Yeah if ever there was a time." She grabbed the bag properly and headed for the door. By that point, the Valkyr were used to Chelsea disappearing into the mysterious room at the end of the hall. Several still watched when she approached it. A few had tried to follow her inside over the past month, only to be stopped by the barrier that denied everyone else. Chelsea knocked once. The door opened. She stepped through, and the room shut behind her.

"Hey Chels! Come to have me help you level up?" Freya stood near the desk, already looking far too excited for someone who had definitely known this was coming. The room was arranged differently again, but Chelsea barely noticed the change. Her attention stayed on the bag in her hands.

"Couldn't think of anyone better. I have to put pieces on in a very specific order and then burn them after getting the classification increase."

"I've been waiting to see this. Let's do it." Chelsea set the bag on the floor and opened it. Broken metal, cracked gems, split leather, damaged rings, warped clasps, and fragments of once-valuable gear shifted inside. Each piece had been kept for this exact reason.

"Oh! You're probably going to see it do the weird magic circle thing. Tell me your opinion on it."

"Can do." Chelsea stripped down and began the process. There was no way to make it less awkward. She sorted the pieces by classification she had written down and put them on in the proper order, one after another, letting The Perfect Outfit recognize each damaged item before Freya destroyed it with divine fire. The first few changes came quickly. Chelsea felt the enhancement take hold, felt it catalogue the broken gear, then felt the results settle through her status. The Perfect Outfit Effect 2: Tier 13 acquired.

The next piece burned. The Perfect Outfit Effect 2: Tier 14 acquired. Freya watched closely, her earlier joking gone. She moved around Chelsea once, not touching, studying the way the enhancement responded to each item. The Perfect Outfit Effect 2: Tier 15 acquired. Chelsea noticed the light of the circle before the notification even appeared in her vision. The Perfect Outfit Effect 3: Transfiguration Rank 2 acquired.