Weaponsmith - Chapter 94 (Patreon)

Sockel grabs his hand at the wrist. “No magic,” says the elf.

Hineni blinks, looking her way. “What?”

“No magic,” she repeats, shaking her head and pushing his arm back down. “Kill it without your freaky spells.”

“They’re not freaky,” replies Hineni. “It’s just ash-magic.”

“’Just’,” says Sockel, rolling her eyes. “You hear that, Rhine?” she asks, looking towards the boy, who is down in the dungeon with them. “It’s just ash magic.”

“I heard!” notes Rhine. “Actually, ash-magic is super rare. It’s estimated that only one out of every -” Sockel lifts a hand, shushing him.

“Okay, nerd. I just wanted your agreement, not a lecture.” She nods her head to the monster. A mush-mush, a giant mushroom monster, guarding floor one of the dungeon. It’s respawned, having come back from the dead since the last time he was here. “You can’t just rely on your magic,” she says. “What if you need to kill something and you’re dry?”

Hineni sighs. He knows that she’s right. But he’s just never been much of a fighter. Still, he has size and strength on the creature by a good margin. He slips off his leather gloves, throwing them to the ground. “Can I use a rock?”

“I bit mine!” says Rhine, excitedly.

“No rocks,” says Sockel. “Using just what your god gave you.”

“Fine,” says Hineni, stepping onto the floor and towards the creature.

The large mushroom with a wide, orange cap, narrows its eyes, glaring up his way. It reaches to the height of his thighs. “Come on then.”

“NYAH~!” yells the chubby monster. It slowly begins to hop towards him with all the menace it can offer, which isn’t a lot in all honesty.

Hineni wonders if there’s a mushroom-god?

The man lifts his fist.

— He’ll have to ask Seltsam about that.

______________________________________________

“Oh, sure,” replies Seltsam. “There’s a mushroom-god, well… goddess. Or god. It’s uh, it’s complicated,” explains the librarian. Hineni can hear her wandering around the library, on the other side of the shelves.

“Why’s that?” asks Hineni.

“Well, uh, mushrooms are complicated things,” replies Seltsam. “Did you know that mushrooms aren’t plants?”

“…Huh?”

“It’s true!” replies Selstam. “They aren’t animals either. They’re their own category of creatures!”

Hineni shrugs. “Neat. I guess?”

“Mm!” Seltsam shuffles around. “Anyway, the mushroom-goddess lives in the west,” she says. “She’s very popular with couples,” explains the woman. “Lots of pilgrimages out to see her.”

Hineni tilts his head. “That’s kind of random? Why?”

“Oh, uh…” Seltsam is quiet for a time. He can hear her shuffling through some pages. The woman clears her throat. “Well… the thing is, you see… I- uh… You should imagine a mushroom.”

Hineni blinks. “Yeah, okay, I am. What about it?”

“You know…” says the librarian. “And the connotations it has.”

“Conno-what?” asks Hineni. “Seltsam. I can barely read half of the books in here. What the hell are you talking about?”

“She’s a fertility-goddess,” relents the librarian.

“Oooh!” Hineni strikes his fist into his open palm. “You’re saying that mushrooms look like d-“

“No swearing in the library!” she warns. “LA-LA-LA-LA!”

Hineni blinks. “…Are you covering your ears?”

“-LA-LA.” She stops. “— Are you done?”

Hineni stares at the shelf. “…Really…?”

“Yes. No swearing in the library. I’ll ask Sockel to put up a sign,” says Seltsam.

Hineni rolls his eyes. Always with the damn signs. “It’s my house. I’ll swear like a sailor in every room from here to the bath if I want to.”

“T-that’s not fair!” she argues. “Y-you can’t tell people they can live here but then say it’s just your home.” Hineni looks at the shelf for a time. That’s a fair point, actually. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t!” says Seltsam. “I- I don’t feel well when people swear.”

Hineni scratches his cheek, looking at the shelf and then down at a book in front of himself. He supposes it makes sense. If she really is a ‘monster’ of some sort, he imagines that she’s heard her fair share of harsh words already. Who knows what that life in the wilds of the north-east were like?

He sighs. Maybe this whole demonic-influence thing has really been getting to him?

“You’re right, Seltsam,” he relents. “This is your home too. All of it.” He nods. “Sorry. I guess I’m still getting used to living with other people too.”

He looks down at the random book that he’s grabbed in that awkward moment.

[A forager’s guide to wild flowers]

“…Is there a flower god?” asks Hineni.

“Y-You should talk to your wife about that!” says Seltsam. “It isn’t appropriate!”

Hineni blinks. “Really?” he asks. “Seltsam. Why the hell are gods so weird?” he asks. “Why can’t the mushroom-god just be about mushrooms? Why is everything so full of connotations?” he asks, having picked up the word.

“That’s just what gods are,” she explains. “They get their power from the magic they collect from their followers, but that magic always takes some of its source with it,” says Seltsam. Hineni hears her walking around above his head now, on the inner balcony. He has no idea how she got up there.

“…Did you climb up the shelf?” he asks.

She clears her throat. “Anyway, they have those connotations because we have them,” she says. “We see a mushroom and we think it looks like, uh, well, you know,” says the librarian. “And then when that magic leaves us and goes to the mushroom god, it takes some of that spice with it.”

“Really?” asks Hineni.

“Yup,” she says. “You are what you eat, haha!”

“Huh… interesting.” He sets the book back into the shelf. “Thanks. This was surprisingly helpful,” says Hineni. “I’ll tell Sockel to make that sign for you.”

________________________________________________

“Hey,” says Hineni, looking at Obscura. “Do you know a flower-god?”

The owl, sitting on the sill of their bedroom window, snaps her heady sharply around to look at him.

“WHO~!” she hoots. “Hi~ ne~ ni~ is so brash,” she says, hiding her face beneath a wing. “Poor Obscura!”

He blinks. “What?” he asks. “I’m just trying to learn about gods,” says Hineni. “I asked Seltsam, but she told me to ask you.”

“FOOLISH MAN!” she says, flapping her wings his way and snapping with her beak. The owl flies off of the window sill. “Do not ask such things to women who are not his Ob~ scu~ ra,” she says.

“…Because of the connotations?” asks Hineni.

She clicks with her mouth. “Wise!” she says, approvingly, grabbing his shirt’s collar. “Her smart Hineni knows many words, yes?” she asks, tilting her head and looking into his eyes. “Poor Obscura knows only few. He will teach her, yes?” she asks. “The big connotation words? Big Hineni will teach big words to his little Obscura, yes?”

“…Sure…” says Hineni, cursing himself under his breath.

He’s going to have to do some studying in the future.

She hoots in excitement.