Chapter Two—Shirizad

Ugh! Shirizad was a nothing town when I was here last!

“Stop complaining,” Shiro said as he stalked along the dusty road surrounded by green fields and forested hills off in the distance.

He repositioned the large bag of loot on his back.

At least there’s a guild house here.

“Yes,” Shiro said. “Once we turn in this loot, we will have enough gold to go to Darshuun. It’s not far, now.”

I know, Jessamine conveyed. You forget, Shiro they you’re the isekai here, not me. And I’m well acquainted with these lands. In fact, Shirizad was a hill with a few shepherd tents when I last saw it.

“All the more reason not to complain,” he said, looking into the setting sun. The skies were filled with orange hues and blue clouds on the horizon. Beyond the mountain lay the capital—their destination.

She still hadn’t come out to walk with him.

No matter.

Shirizad was a low town of mostly single level structures with small rooftop veranda’s. But there looked to be a large market area in this ruler place. They would need to go there before setting out on the morrow to stock up on provision for the trip.

Shiro glanced about as people came and went, eating at food stalls and packed up their food for sale. The day was almost over and this place didn’t look to have much of a busy night life.

Not seeing any of the usual establishments in larger towns and cities, such as drinking halls, whorehouses and lavish clothiers, Shiro kept up his pace, glancing about for the Shirizad guild house so he could turn in this loot.

It was starting to get heavy on his back. He really needed a better back—preferably something magical to store items in. Then he would have no trouble at all hauling things around.

Maybe when we get to Darshuun.

Of course.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Shiro said. “Don’t you remember what I told you? If I want to speak to you, I will do so out loud. Let me have my thoughts to myself.”

Afraid I’ll hear something I’m not supposed to?

“Stay out of my head,” he said. “I’m still angry with you for disrespecting my honor, and invading my privacy.”

My apologies, oh honorable Shiro, Jessamine conveyed.

Then she was silent.

Good.

Surely there was a way to force her to stay out of his head? If there was, Shiro wanted to know, but so far Jessamine hadn’t told him.

At least she respected him half the time about staying out of his head and not listening in on his thoughts. After rescuing her from Akarilion, Shiro at least won some small measure of respect.

Until Jessamine got bored.

The guild house, it came into view as he crested the hill. Shirizad was not a rich place. The mayor’s house was probably as non-descript as the rest of the dwellings here.

Still… there was a rural beauty that Shiro could appreciate. With no river leading through the town, the lowlands had plenty of small ponds and rivulets connecting the water system for good crop cultivation.

She guild house was taller than the buildings around it. A man looking like an adventurer strode out. He was wearing black pantaloons and upturned shoes that looked like they needed replacing. A large empty sack was slung over his back and a large knife at his side.

Shiro paid him no mind as he passed the man by and went into the building. There were six guards inside, some clerks behind a barred desk and some official-looking characters about—probably appraisers and the like.

Shiro went to one of the empty tables and sat his full sack atop it before putting the items out one by one. The appraiser looked at him up and down, his bejeweled turban slightly askew on his head.

“Monster bones, ancient trinkets and some weapons,” the appraiser said. “Where did you get these weapons?”

They were monster weapons, clearly by their design. Jagged, rough, thought out in inhuman ways. “In the dungeon,” Shiro said.

“Did you steal these?”

“I said I got them in the dungeon.”

The appraiser stroked his thin mustache. “Very well, Adventurer. Wait here while I go get my superiors to double check these items.”

Shiro watched him go. A guard let him into the secure rooms in the back, then closed and locked the door.

“They trrrreat me the same here,” a man from behind said, his voice somewhat raspy.

Shiro turned to address the man and realized he was a cat eye. His long fur, yellow eyes and tail gave him away easily. Shiro was surprised he hadn’t noticed on the way in. There weren’t many demi-humans in the Abassir Empire.

Nodding, he said, “They haven’t caused you too much trouble, I hope.”

“Nothing morrre than general harrrrassssment,” the cat eye said, his Rs rolled into oblivion and his Ss stressed longer than copper fang. “My name is Tarrrchikssss.”

Shiro had no idea if the pronunciation of his name was meant to sound that way or if that’s just how the cat eye said the name. How was he supposed to repeat it back?

Able to say his name or no, Shiro thought he looked to be a quality mid-class adventurer, his thick leather armor, steel plates and a long sword slung on his hip giving him away as such. On his back was evidence of a round shield.

Shiro nodded, put out his hand.

The cat eye shook and Shiro felt the claws. They hadn’t been put out, but even so, his hand was quite soft compared to “Tarshiks’”?

“Where do you hail from, fellow adventurer?”

He was simply being agreeable by shaking the cat eye’s clawed hand Shiro did not want to start volunteering information.

“A far away land,” he said.

“Do you not want to say?”

“No.”

Tarshiks nodded. “I am on my way through as well. I’m heading into Darshuun.”

“Best of luck to you,” he said, limiting their conversation from there henceforth.

The appraiser came out, another official at his back.

Time to get ripped off, he thought.

Regretting his earlier words, he could have used Jessamine’s help right now, but she was completely silent.

As Shiro bought a room for the night, he saw Tarshiks in the street watching him. Was the cat eye following him?