Weaponsmith - Chapter 52 (Patreon)

Sickly moonlight shines in through the windows of the library, covering the dark toned wood and the drab, carpeted floors with a tinge of blue. The soft, cold glow radiates around the room, from top to bottom, flowing along the lengths of the spines of many different books, each of many different colors. It tones everything into a dimmer, more matte hue.

Hineni stands there, downstairs in the library and looks around the space.

The library is an excellent financial opportunity for them. Right now, they’re just kind of attracting rough and grungy types with no money. But books are expensive and he essentially has a small fortune of them right here, in front of himself. Even if many of these tomes are somewhat older, their knowledge is still mostly applicable. Not only are roughly half of all adventurers casters and spell-weavers of some kind, but there is also a magical academy in the city. Add to that the magical craftspeople and all together, there’s a full-fledged market of people there, hungry for books.

Hineni pulls one out of the shelf at random, looking at its title.

[The medicinal use of fungi, flora and fauna]

He sets it back, walking down the way and pulling out another one at random.

[Guide to the southern witch-cap dungeon. Part I. floors one to twenty-five]

Hineni nods, wandering up the metal, spiral staircase as he follows his feelings for the next book to take at random. There isn’t a particular reason he’s pulling out books, he’s just doing it because it feels right.

But the library, if they can get a librarian to manage it, they’ll be able to draw in a broader, more refined and more higher-paying clientèle. There’s money in magic. Plus, they need more people to come to their guild and they need to start recruiting, not just for the basic membership, which Sockel has been managing, but for Obscura, for followers, worshipers.

There have been several interested parties already, many offering tribute, some two times already, like the quiet man who they had gifted one of the curved daggers to.

- A librarian…

Hineni looks down at the library beneath himself, looking over its tall shelves and empty rows, bathed in dewy moonlight. Feeling something familiar in the air, a smell, a scent, but he can’t quite place it. It’s too faint to be sure, but it feels deeply nostalgic.

The man turns around, grabbing a book at random and pulling it out of the shelf.

[A lover’s guide to being a good husband in home, spirit, work and bed]

Hineni clears his throat, pushing the book back into the shelf and standing there for an awkward moment. He looks over his shoulders, and, seeing that he is alone in the library, takes it with him, slipping it under his coat.

He turns to leave the library through the upstairs door, leading to the long corridor, stopping only once on the way, as something catches his eye, illuminated solely by the grace of the moonlight, shining in from the right position at the right time. Another book. Its spine seems sleeker than the others and it's placed somewhat out of the way, in a corner by the door, in the back of the shelf.

The smell from before, he’s noticing that it’s coming from here. It’s the smell of water-lilies, his mother’s perfume. But…

His fingers hover above the book for a moment, but he lets his hand drop, shaking his head.

It wouldn’t be right to pick up a fourth book.

The man heads out of the library and heads downstairs.

____________________________________________________

Pans rattle and clank around, a bubbling noise fills the air. “Hey,” says Sockel, tapping a big spoon against the pot to get some of the goo off of it.

“Hey,” says Hineni, looking around the kitchen.

“What’re you spooking around for?” she asks, looking his way. “You’re creeping and crawling like a stalker in the night.”

“It’s my house, Sockel,” explains Hineni. “I can walk around it whenever I want to.”

“Sure thing, boss-man,” replies the elf, bending down to get some tubers from the sack. She sets them down onto the basin and begins cutting them expertly with a knife. “Food will be ready in a little.”

Hineni looks around the kitchen.

Getting the kitchen up and running by hiring a cook and a waiter would skyrocket their revenue. People are asking about food every day, both the people who are sleeping here and those who aren’t. But that will bring with it a whole chain of logistics that needs to be handled. Ingredients, spices, oils, drinks and everything of the sort needs to be kept fully stocked. That will take work in and of itself.

Maybe that could be delegated to the theoretical kitchen-staff? But then they'd have to have predetermined opening and closing hours for food service, so that they’d have time to handle the other stuff too. Unless they get a third person for the kitchen, just for that task. But…

Hineni shakes his head, listening to Sockel cook as he walks to the trap-door, heading down into the ice-cellar.

____________________________________________________

The man sits on a barrel with his fingers pressed together against his lips as he sits, staring around the dark ice-cellar.

It’s dimly lit, mostly just by the light of the kitchen upstairs as Eilig seems to be taking care of the lanterns down here, but also turning them off at night. The creature, the fairy, doesn’t seem to have adapted to their nocturnal ways just yet. But that’s to be expected. Eilig is the newest person to fall under Obscura’s influence. The owl’s magic takes time to start working.

“You’re being creepy,” says Eilig, her voice ringing out from her ice-crystal hive ‘house’, suspended from the ceiling.

“Sorry,” apologizes Hineni. “I’m just thinking,” says the man. “Go back to sleep, Eilig.”

Currently, it’s winter. So the demand for an ice-cellar is at a low at the moment. But come summer, Eilig and her magical ice are going to be fortune builders in and of themselves. That’s not including their potential selling of storage space down here to the people of the city, alchemists perhaps, for heat-sensitive materials.

There’s a market in everything, for everything, if one looks long enough.

“It’s hard to sleep when someone is brooding outside of your bedroom, you know?” she asks, yawning.

“Brooding…?” asks Hineni, staring for a moment and then getting up. “You’re right, Eilig, sorry,” apologizes the man.

The fairy sighs. “I’m not surprised. She always woke up a couple hours before the sun was up too, you know?” she asks. Hineni stops, turning back from the frozen ladder.

“Can I ask you one thing?” asks Hineni. “Then I’ll let you sleep.” The blob shrugs, he assumes that’s a ‘whatever’. “Why did my father insist that you weren’t real?” asks the man. “I was always told that she was just seeing things,” he finishes.

Eilig groans. “Of course you ask a big question like that instead of something normal,” complains the fairy, muttering to herself. She leans against the inside of her door, crossing her arms, from what he can guess. “Look… some people have certain knacks for things,” says Eilig. “She had a knack for seeing things.”

“Fairies?” guesses Hineni, knowing the answer to that.

“Among other things,” says Eilig. “She saw everything else too. But I’m not allowed to talk to you about that,” she explains. “I promised.”

Hineni nods, remembering that it wasn’t just fairies that his mother had always claimed to see. “And my father?”

“Like I said,” says Eilig. “She saw things and I’m not allowed to talk to you about that,” she finishes.

Hineni stares at her and then nods. “Thank you, Eilig,” he says, climbing up the ladder.

“If I had to guess,” says a sharp voice from the ice-cluster across the room. “It’s because he thought that you thinking she was crazy would be easier for you than really knowing about what’s real and what isn’t.”

Hineni nods to her once more, grateful for her information. “Good night.” He climbs up the frozen ladder.

“Good night,” replies the fairy, closing her home up again with fresh ice.

His mother claimed to see fairies, but his mother also claimed to see demons as well. If fairies are real, then the other claim must be true as well. For whatever reason, his father wanted him to know nothing of these latter entities, going so far as to pretend to him that his wife, Hineni’s mother, had lost her mind. Even if it meant lying to the child’s face about an objective, observable truth such as something as simple and plain as the existence of fairies.

But why?

____________________________________________________

Hineni heads into the forge.

Rhine is here, already busy at work, forming clay molds. “Rhine,” says Hineni. “I like your spirit, but don’t overwork yourself,” he says. “We’re not firing the forge up for another few hours.”

Rhine looks up from his work, wiping his forehead on his rolled up sleeves.

“Don’t worry,” he assures. “This is nothing for…” He blinks. “For -” The boy squints with one eye, trying to fight something down, but he loses and his mouth opens wide, a loud, extended yawn coming out.

“Told you,” says Hineni. “It’s the first thing in the morning and you’re already tired.”

Rhine shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Boy.”

Rhine frowns, lowering his head. “…Okay. I’m a little tired…” he concedes.

“Sockel’s making breakfast today,” says Hineni, nodding with his head back down the stone corridor. “Why don’t you go help her?”

Rhine shrugs, looking back down at the clay. “I don’t know. It’s weird now,” he says.

“Weird?” asks Hineni.

The boy plays around with a piece of clay, rolling it idly into a small ball. “She wanted to talk to me about some stuff and I didn’t really want to, you know?” he asks. “Now I think that she thinks I’m… I dunno, dumb or scared or something,” he explains, looking back up towards Hineni. The look in his eyes hints that he’s seeking some kind of answer to a question that he hasn’t even asked.

Hineni blinks, considering what to do. “You mean about your mother?” he asks. Rhine nods. The man crosses her arms, thinking for a moment. “Family is… confusing,” says Hineni. The truth is that Rhine likely knows a lot about the frogs. He likely knows where many of the bases of operations are, he likely knows about their rituals and inner-workings, his own mother is apparently fairly high up in the ‘organization’ of the frogs’ hierarchy and it’s only natural that Sockel, a trained professional, would want to get this information from him.

But at the same time, family is, indeed, confusing.

“What did Sockel say?” he asks.

Rhine shrugs, returning to his work as he squishes the clay ball back into the mold. “When I said no, she said that it’s fine and I don’t have to talk about anything that I don’t want to.” Hineni nods. That’s a very pragmatic and responsible response for Sockel to give him.

“So what’s the problem?” he asks.

Rhine shrugs. “…I don’t know,” he says. He pulls two molds together. “This is gonna sound dumb, okay?”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave, Rhine,” says Hineni.

The boy shrugs, wiping a strand of long hair out of his face. “I kind of wanted her to yell at me,” he explains. “You know? I was kind of sad when she didn’t.”

Hineni nods to him, sitting down at the workbench. This is going to be a longer talk.

But after all, it’s a perfectly reasonable thing for Rhine to want. If Sockel had yelled at him and pressured him, then the choice of giving up the information about his family, cruel and abusive as they may have been, will be taken from his hands.

____________________________________________________

Hineni has finished his rounds, having found everyone apart from the most important person for himself. But she doesn’t seem to be at home at the moment. This is a good time to hunt and so, the owl-god Obscura is out hunting, providing them with ample food.

The man stands in the library, leaning against the railing, staring at the single book that smells faintly of water-lilies.

It doesn’t count, right? Since he left the library and came back later, his ‘count’ of taken books is back at zero, so it isn’t the forth one, it’s the first.

- Right?

Hineni thinks about it for a moment and then nods, reaching into the shelf and pulling it out.