Chương 11: Chapter 9 ~ A Group of 7

19/10/1111 EotTS, 11: 19 Wyohla, Lyma, Visi, and Gysel turned left off the main road, crossed between pawn-shaped metal bollards with a single spike atop, and into a paved, walkable, shopping district. The buildings were wall-to-wall and four to five stories tall; some red brick, some gray brick, some wood and river rock, and some whitewashed, but their order was entirely stochastic.

The ground floor (and sometimes the second floor as well) of each building was a store; the rest of the floors were apartments, likely for the family who owned and worked the store, but judging by the occasional occurrence of two to three mailboxes by the side-stair door, some of these apartments were likely rented as well.

Most stores seemed to be niche merchant style establishments, with their uniquely catered to wares being displayed in both flush and bay windows, and softly swinging wooden signs bearing clever names hung from iron above the door.

A smaller number of stores were restaurants with patios that seemed pointless in the foggy city of Thoranyn; with the blue and white umbrellas sprouting from tables, blocking what little of the sun made it through the overcast cover, furthermore, the patios also made the street an inconsistent width: they were an eyesore. Thick-trunked maple trees were planted in two lines running down the center of the entire street, providing extra shade to the benches betwixt them.

Their leaves rustled softly with the early autumn breeze, and knocked some free, only to support them as they slowly fell down to the benches and root-raised bricks below. A large, tiered stone fountain sat where the street crossed another one. There were three men waiting in front of the fountain. One blonde, one with black hair, and one with hair like Lyma. Lyma broke apart from Visi, Wyohla, and Gysel, hurrying over to the men.

"So, Gysel. This is Lyvahn. He is my younger brother." Lyma introduced her brother with the same gesture that she used to introduce Visi—a sharp, prideful poke to the chest. Lyvahn was the same height as Lyma and had the same face, eyes, and hair. The front half of his red hair had been tied up into a bun, leaving the back hanging down to the base of his neck. He wore a brown wool cable-knit sweater over a white shirt, with the hem falling just above the top of brown corduroy pants.

There was nothing about him that was visibly different from Lyma; frankly, with a change of hair, they would be hard to distinguish. As far as memories go: this was the largest group of people with red hair ever seen together; there was not a single person with red hair in Wihrakolm (did their being twins make this more astounding or less? after all, they were technically two halves of the same person, separated only by phenomenology). Lyvahn rolled his eyes at his sister and then looked to Gysel.

"And you are?" Gysel poked herself in the chest.

"I am Gysel Neekhilst. I have no siblings."

"She's so cute," Wyohla said softly, as she shook her head and chuckled the way people chuckle at babies and domesticated finches. Gysel looked at Wyohla and smiled—the praise is new and enjoyable, even if it is coming from a potential cannibal. Lyma moved onto the blonde man next to Lyvahn.

"This is Ardhy; he knows his sigillography and has been certified to use it wherever he wants to." She did not poke Ardhy the same way she did her brother and Visi, only gesturing to him. Ardhy was the tallest of the group, matching the height of Wyohla in her boots.

Cavalry men had once stopped in Wihrakolm for a week to rest as they headed north for training, and Ardhy, from dress alone, looked like he could easily be one of them (maybe even an officer) if he wished, as he already dressed as if he were off duty: his broad shoulders, and large chest pulled his stormy grey tweed vest tight beneath the matching tweed jacket and long overcoat, which flowed unbuttoned in the soft wind; a blue silk shirt was visible behind the vest, and was tucked in to twill pants of the same grey.

His hair was styled in an undercut (which to-day was combed back, but the slight part in line with the center of his left eye, showed that he had likely chosen the haircut for its versatility instead of its looks) and was a darker blond, similar in color to the crust of a freshly baked bun. Long, slender eyebrows of full light-brown hair ran all the way across the low brow line that cast a shadow over his eyes, and nearly met on the bridge of his straight nose.

His deep-set eyes were a darker ocean blue, and their resting softness provided contrast to his broad jaw, dimpled chin, and overall, rectangular face. He gave Gysel a soft smile with his thin, pale lips, and a slight bow.

"It is nice to meet you." Gysel did the same bow, only lower.

"It is nice to—" Her glasses fell off. Before she could scramble for them—and more importantly, before they hit the bricks—Ardhy caught them. He wiped the lenses on his sleeve, then held the glasses out to Gysel, arms facing her. He started trying to put them back on her. Gysel pulled away from him and took the glasses from his hand. She put them on herself.

"Thank you," she squeaked. Ardhy cocked an eyebrow and smiled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lyma had already moved on to the third man.

"Who's this?" Lyma asked Lyvahn and Ardhy.

"This is Thyres," said Lyvahn.

"I met him yesterday. He is in fifth on Operative Alchemy. Now we have two people who excel in that." Wyohla looked back and forth between Thyres and Gysel; she took a step closer to Gysel. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Thyres was about the same height as Visi, just a little shorter.

He wore a beige button-up shirt, which was tucked into brown tweed pants, and both were just a bit too big to be tailored, and a bit too frayed on the hems to be new. A brown tweed jacket hung over his arm, with patches of two different colors—dark green and grey—sewn onto the elbows, and buttons mismatched in both size and material. His short black hair was neatly parted in the center, with a thick curled moustache and the stubble that came from a few days without shaving.

He looked around the group with his round, brown-green eyes, and gave a simple smile—he is certainly an outsider, now there are two, both kindred spirits of Operative Alchemy.

"I'm going to go to Bwouker's and get us a reservation for seven for midday," Wyohla said.

"Where can I find all of you after?" The group looked at each other. Ardhy spoke first.

"I want to go to Sivyk's Sigils; I need a few new punches. How long will you be?"

"Half an hour at the most."

"I want to stop at at least one of the book stores," said Thyres. Gysel opened her mouth to concur but stopped herself. Ardhy caught this.

"Did you have something to say, Gysel?"

"I would also like to go to the book stores," Gysel said.

"All right," Wyohla began to leave.

"I'll meet you at the bookstore next to Bwouker's in half an hour." She left. Ardhy turned and began to lead the group to Sivyk's Sigils. Gysel paused for a moment to wave to Wyohla: nobody saw her; she turned and caught up with the group. 19/10/1111 EotTS, 11: 39 Sivyk's Sigils was a large store with a facade made of red bricks and wooden supports.

Thick double doors with brass handles sat in the center of the ground floor's recessed entrance way, both had been propped open by two spare red bricks, and their brown paint was peeling along the edges. The display windows on either side of the door showed off the newest wares at the cutting edge of sigillography, (as stated by the signs in the windows): a kettle made of brass and glass; a new, portable range; a handheld torch; a curling iron.

Everyone went their separate ways upon entering, likely having perused this store before, they all knew what they wanted, and where it was located: Ardhy's boots clicked on the hardwood flooring as he walked straight to a counter under a sign labeled 'repairs'; Thyres took to browsing the shelves along the left wall, flipping through the pages of books; the twins disappeared to the second floor with Visi in tow, hurrying up the iron steps of the quarter turn staircase; Gysel walked to the counter against the back wall, taking in all the 'sigil-stuffs' as she went: the store mostly sold appliances and repair tools.

The ceiling was covered in chandeliers in a variety of designs ranging from simple to ornate, with their price tags hanging below from pieces of twine, and all were on, making the store far brighter than it needed to be.

"What are those?" Gysel pointed to a selection of metal tubes with wooden handles.

"Sigil activators," the shopkeeper said, as he shut the book he was reading and looked to Gysel. Gysel inspected the sigil activators on display: they came in all shapes and sizes—some as short as a thumb, others as long as an arm.

"Can I see that one?" She pointed to a small one with two barrels that looked like it would fit in her hand.

"Do you have a license?"

"No?" Gysel looked away from the man and at the rings that were beneath the glass of the counter.

"Then I'm afraid you can't." The shopkeeper waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly.

"Why do I need a license?"

"If I let you hold on without a license, I can't sell them anymore."

"How do I get a license?"

"Women can't get them." The shopkeeper's words caught the attention of Ardhy, who was now paying attention to them from the repair counter.

"Then why did you not tell me that first?" Gysel spoke a little louder; the shopkeeper needed to format his arguments better. The shopkeeper just raised his hands.

"Why are you asking so many questions?"

"Because I want to know."

"Do you see those?" the shopkeeper pointed to the wall of books.

"Yes." Gysel followed the man's finger.

"Read them."

"Why?" The shopkeeper let out an exasperated sigh.

"Is she with you, Ardhy?"

"She is," Ardhy answered.

"Can you explain this to her?" The shopkeeper gestured to Gysel. Gysel waved to Ardhy.

"All right," Ardhy said.

"So, Gysel, you can buy one once you pass a series of practical exams in Sigillography showing that you can use sigils safely and responsibly." He paused and looked to the shopkeeper.

"Sex does not matter anymore; they changed that two decades ago. Might want to renew your vendor's license."

"She doesn't have a license either way." The shopkeeper shook his head. Ardhy walked over to Gysel at the counter. He reached beneath his jacket and pulled a sigil activator out from a shoulder holster. Breaching it, he removed the rings and dropped them into his pocket. Shutting it, he held it with his right hand and pointed it at the ground; he pulled the trigger a few times: nothing happened; breaching it again, he handed it to Gysel.

"Here." The Sigil-Activator was heavy and too large to be grasped properly. She tried to hold it as Ardhy did with one hand, but she could not reach the trigger with her finger. The sigil-activator was ornate: the barrel was plated in a reflective and polished silver, and most of the barrel had been engraved with a design that looked to be ivy; the handle was made of northern black oak and engraved with the same ivy design (this was likely to help with grip), the handle was also coated in a wax of some sort.

Just above the hinge was a three-ringed sigil, densely inscribed with tiny markings too small for the naked eye to decipher. A groove split the rings; Gysel squeezed the trigger, and a piece of metal briefly appeared, completing the rings. The shopkeeper groaned.

"You kids." He walked away from Ardhy and Gysel. Gysel looked at the breached chamber—is the sigil visible from the barrel when it is shut? how flush is it—she shut the sigil activator and looked down the barrel. Ardhy snatched the sigil activator from her.

"Don't... Do not, do that." He laughed awkwardly.

"Why?" Gysel asked.

"Just don't do that." Ardhy reloaded the sigil activator and tucked it back under his arm.

"Why?" Ardhy took a deep breath and sighed.

"It's dangerous."

"No."

"Well, it could have been."

"But it was not."

"It's not something you want to make a habit out of. So it's best not to do it. There isn't anything to see down there anyway."

"What is it for?"

"The barrel or the sigil activator?"

"The sigil activator."

"Lots of things. I have mine—""Duels. People have them for duels," Thyres said, as he looked over at Gysel and Ardhy from a shelf along the left wall.

"There is no other practical reason to carry that. It's like a sword for cowards." Ardhy shot Thyres a glare.

"Why do you need it for duels?" Gysel asked.

"It's the last step at the end of ten paces. It shows that you are willing to put everything behind one moment." Thyres did not move from the shelf.

"How is it a step?"

"A step like in spagyrics. Step one is issuing a challenge between two people. Step two is walking ten paces. Step three is turning around." Thyres turned from the shelf and pointed at Gysel.

"Step four is point, then bang." Gysel looked at her chest, then to Thyres, and mimicked his action.

"Bang." Ardhy smiled at Thyres without his eyes.

"Indeed, it is."

"Do you duel people?" Thyres asked.

"Haven't yet."

"Then you shouldn't be walking around with one. Get a sword." Thyres headed for the second floor as soon as he finished his sentence, leaving Ardhy and Gysel alone at the counter.