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Arc 8-103
🕑 Added 2025-10-12 01:51:29 +0000 UTCAlana’s missions is successful; she returns with an old wagon of dark wood. It’s stained and chipped exterior looks like one bad dip in the road will shatter it, but it has all its requisite parts and rolls smoothly. It rolls even better once Kierra’s done with it. Saints, it looks practically new, probably worth the cost Alana paid for it. I don’t want to imagine the swarmy grin and elated eyes of whoever practically robbed her; she hands back my coin purse half-emptied. That doesn’t matter.
The important thing is that we have a way to transport all the wonderful goodies in the cache, though we still lack containers to put them in. Using the stone chests is unfeasible; their tops along would prove too burdensome for the poor wood to carry. Leaving a thoughtful Gajin and a sleepy Nomad behind to paw through and protect our find, the rest of us set out on a quest to find useable materials. It is an utterly mundane walk, punctuated by Earl and Talia softly discussing the colorful birds they spot while Kierra educates Anna about all the ways to eat the little critters that startle at our approach. Its simple charm reaches its peak as Earl challenges Anna to a contest of gathering sticks, smiling indulgently as she rushes off full of determination, but it’s closely matched by Talia setting a flower crown on the little girl’s haystack.
I can’t help thinking something is going to go wrong.
It always does, doesn’t it? Ever since my rebirth, the simplest problems have always ballooned into grand circumstances with far-reaching consequences. Fate tirelessly works to undermine my peace, hurling obstacles in my path at every opportunity.
Given that, it’s reasonable to think that the retrieval of the ancient treasure will be complicated by some unforeseen event. Or maybe a more predictable one, like the hunters doing something stupid. Grayskin struck me, and more importantly Geneva, as a straightforward and sensible man, but no one is immune to bad decisions. Or he needn’t be involved. He may be one of the few remaining leaders of the Traditionalists, but there’s nothing stopping the more suicidal from ignoring him and trying to stop me anyway. Saints protect me, what if some erstwhile hero, guided by fate to restore the glory of humanity, stumbles on us, ready to claim his destiny, only to see the strangest group in the kingdom’s borders pilfering their destiny?
But no. Nothing happens. We set off as the sun begins to set and return to the estate right after dark without issue. The hours on the road has done nothing to dim everyone’s excitement; the poor dining table has little space for food as dinner time is spent examining our treasures.
I stick to my decision to give my servants a treasure of their own. Gajin selects an old medicine book, likely for the plants it documents. Nomad abstain, wandering off without a word to…do whatever he does when he’s not haunting estates.
As expected, Anna sticks with her skull selection. For some reason, there’s a dozen of them in the cache, all different sizes and shapes. She spends several minutes, which is probably an eternity to her young mind, mulling over her choices before selecting a skull that reminds me of hounds, triggering unfortunate recollections of smiling wolves.
Surprisingly, Earl joins her in her predilection for bone; his chosen skull is long and thin, a bird of some sort I assume. His choice makes it doubly important that the succubus currently examining the artifacts is suitably careful and thorough, but I have no doubts in her commitment; aside from the fact that she can’t give less than her best effort should I order so, for once, Geneva appears to be concentrating. It rare for her to have a challenge and she’s the type to savor it.
Of course, I offer my lovers the chance to plunder the treasure with only vague limits, but they are much more reticent than the servants. Talia takes one look at the drab offerings and declines. Kierra shows vague interest in the skulls, but doesn’t claim one, refusing to claim a trophy she hasn’t taken down herself; my arguments that’s it’s a tool, not a trophy, does nothing to dissuade her. Alana nearly picks something for the sake of it, but seeing her halg-hearted efforts, I tell her about the armory cache, the Authority dedicated to weaponry. She decides to save her choice for then; I try to tell her that she doesn’t have to choose one thing, but she stubbornly sticks to her decision.
That leaves me. Technically, it all belongs to me, but I’m already considering parting with the items of this particular cache; they are too valuable for me to vainly keep in a locked room. However, I won’t begrudge myself one or two things that catch my eye. And there is one thing. A long, metal tube that I found buried beneath all of the books. It’s also made from that ridiculously heavy stone, a sure sign that its contents were valuable. It is.
Inside is a map.
Maps are both valuable and useless. The safety they offer and the work that goes into creating them makes even the smallest maps expensive. However, few people need them. Most citizens of the kingdom will spend their entire lives traveling between two or three villages, all within a day’s travel time. What do they need with a map of the kingdom? Or even a map of the region?
So, the object of my fascination is functionally useless; doubly so for its inaccuracy, being centuries old. I don’t care.
My fingers reverently trace the dry and weathered parchment over Harvest. Or, as it’s called, Edennemon’s Cradle. A cradle suggests a place of protection, nurturing. It almost implies that it was meant to be a place of refuge. Saints, I don’t even know if I can trust this. Humanity’ history is a mess but I can’t help being fascinated. Especially by the continents I don’t recognize. There’s the Blessed Lands, which, from its location and name, should be the land of the dragons, before it was shattered by the war. And far to the northeast—
“Oi! What’s all this?”
I crane my neck to see an exuberant pirate and her favorite merchant enter the dining room. From the look and smell of Maxine, I can tell she’s been in the city. Rey, on the other hand, looks like she just rolled out of bed; lazy woman has spent her time as my guest doing as little as she can get away with, the leech. I have seen her in states reserved for family. Graceful, she is not. Still, she is rather tame when left in peace. The most excited she gets is dragging Maxine behind her to meals.
Though the table full of strange items seems to have captured her attention.
“This,” I say while throwing out my arms, “is treasure.”
I jump as Rey practically bounds forward, body taut and eyes wide. Ugh, they’re doing that squirming thing. “Did ya say treasure?”
Something akin to watching lightning flash in distant clouds makes my skin tingle; a premonition of a coming storm. My smile is slightly strained as I shove the feeling aside. “Yup, from the time of the founders. Want to see?”
A woman with her shoulders and arms has no business squealing. She glues herself to my back, fingers digging into my shoulders. “Is it a map ta more treasure? In the sea?!”
“Nope, just a map. But! It’s a map of the old world, before the Great War.” I tap on the Blessed Lands. “See? Home of the dragons, whole.”
“There’s so many places! Hey, why’s two different seas got the same name?”
I bite down on the sarcastic comment that tries to answer her. “It’s the same body of water, but it’s so big it connects two different ends of the world.”
“Nah, that doesn’t make sense. Ah know captains that’ve been on the sea fer weeks and they never seen any of these places.”
“Weeks wouldn’t be enough. It’d take months. Maybe more than a year, I don’t know.”
“Or multiple years,” Maxine adds.
I can almost see Rey’s world expanding.
“That’s crazy,” she whispers with awe. “Battling sea monsters for months? Crews have gone mad in less. And what would they do fer food?”
“I don’t know, but somebody did it. We’re here, aren’t we?”
Her awed expression settles into something serious. “Ah’m going.”
“What?”
“Said ah’m going.” She tries to jab the map but I knock her fingers aside. “There,” she says while pointing to a continent surrounded by strange markings. “The other side of the sea.”
“Okay, but…why? You don’t know what’s there.”
“Ah’ve never sailed to a place before.”
“…that’s it?”
“Yeah! Sea is for hunting, sometimes living. No one told me it can take ya somewhere. Ah wanna see!”
What an idiot. Still, it’s hard to hate her. “Alright then.”
“Wanna come, lady boss?”
“Absolutely not, but best of luck.”
“Thanks. Give me tha map.”
“No.”
“Come on! Ya just said ya didn’t want to go!”
‘That doesn’t mean I don’t want the map. I like it. Think I’ll hang it in my study.” Present and future.
“No, maps gotta be used.”
“No one’s using a five-hundred-year-old map.”
“…stingy.”
“Did I just hear you say you don’t need anything besides bread and water?”
She jumps. “Ah mean, yer the best! Stronger than a leviathan! Tougher than a rock! Prettier than a pearl! Uh. Uh…”
I let the pirate stumble over a few more ridiculous compliments before taking pity on her. “Maybe you can convince a certain merchant to buy a copy.”
“Maxieeee,” the large woman whines without hesitation.
The merchant sighs under the weight of Rey’s squirming and hopeful eyes. “How much?”
Hmm. For someone not interested in Rey’s attentions, she sure is quick to spoil the woman. “For a one-of-a-kind ancient map of the entire world…”
She winces but doesn’t retract her offer.
“I’d gut anyone else but for a friend, we’ll say…five hundred.”
“I can do that,” she says with a grateful sigh.
Rey practically skips over to her. “Hey, can ah kiss ya?”
“Please don’t.”
The pirate obliges, instead wrapping her arms around the smaller woman and rubbing her cheek against the merchant’s hair like an affectionate feline. “…can ah have one of the skulls too?”
“That is a serious no,” I decline before Maxine has to try wrangling her excitable companion. “Those are too special to sale.”
“You have no idea, my summoner.” For the first time since she started examining one of the artifacts, Geneva looks up. “I believe I have figured out their purpose.”
