Chapter 61 - Interspinus & Son

“Fatty!” Skyle cried out joyfully as soon as he stepped through the double doors of one of the most impressive buildings in all of Sunny Meadow - Interspinus & Son, general goods store.

The name belied its wealth, as there was practically nothing that was sold in Sunny Meadow that was not available from the seemingly bottomless shelves of the gigantic store. Rows upon rows of items of every name and denomination were neatly stacked as far as the eye could see, with several clerks busily attending to both the goods and the numerous customers rifling through them.

“Oh, you’re back,” Gordius Insterspinus waved his hand in a casual gesture as he lounged in his usual seat behind the very last counter lying at a nearly forgotten, and thus neatly secluded corner of the store. The great rolling curves of his fat belly rippled as he spoke with cultured indifference. “Your family was very worried. I tried to assuage their worries, as I know you’re the cockroach of the Farrow clan, but it was all for naught.”

Fatty yawned lazily and a tear rolled out from the corner of his eye. “Good thing too, it’s been too quiet around here without you.”

Skyle quirked an eyebrow in his friend’s direction, then smiled knowingly as he walked towards the counter.

“H-Hey, what are you doing? Stop, stop right there,” Fatty said nervously, edging back in his seat when he caught the gleam in his friend’s eye. “I’m warning you, Skyle Farrow, you better stop right there or you can forget about-”

The rest of it was cut off by a shriek of pain as Skyle lightly poked a finger at Fatty’s leg.

“Yeeoowch! Stop it, that hurts, burn you!” Fatty moaned as his mask of indifference fell apart and his face crumpled into the sagging lines of a crying monk. “Dammit, it is all your fault Skyle, so stop it right now!”

Skyle chuckled as he nodded his agreement. “I know, Fatty. How could I imagine that my humble self occupied so gloried a space in your heart that you would brave the grave perils of-”

“Yeah, yeah, so you heard I tried to go into the Forbidden Forest for you.” Fatty waved his hands in the air in a regal fashion, all the while his face abandoned the weeping monk look and took on the countenance of a martyr saint. “All for you, my one and true friend Skyle.”

Skyle raised an eyebrow and went on as though he hadn’t been interrupted at all. “Like I was saying, the grave perils of your father’s boundless stockrooms and all the crates that need lifting and hauling by brutes endowed with much greater brawn than wits.”

Fatty’s expression collapsed in abject surrender as he moaned like a little girl who had been deflowered. “Don’t even remind me of that. Oh, my poor legs, they burn as if I’d had acid poured on them. My poor abused arms can’t even hold up a chicken drumstick, they shake so badly. I might very well starve to death if this goes on. Already, I have lost over ten pounds. Ten pounds!”

The last of this was accompanied by a vigorous shake of his head as Fatty clutched at his bulging belly as though it were his most precious possession, and someone was hellbent on snatching it away.

Skyle eyed his friend critically for a moment, but decided he really could not tell the difference at all. Fatty’s rich dark curls remained as slick as ever, framing a round face with cheeks that practically seemed to drip with fat. His nose was round, his ears were rounder still. There was nothing sharp about Fatty’s features except for his eyes. Those were deep and narrow, gleaming with intelligence. As for his body, it was one bulging curve after another. Not one inch of flat surface could be seen anywhere on Fatty’s body. If there had ever been one, Skyle knew his friend would have quickly remedied that. Where had those ten pounds come from? Certainly not from the belly, which if nothing else only seemed to have grown even larger.

“Don’t you shake your head at me, Skyle Farrow. You know this is all your fault. Add insult to injury, you even dare poke more fire into my misery, well aware of the agony I’m going through.” Fatty growled while glaring at his friend.

Skyle spread his hands to his sides as he shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “You deserve it for pretending to be indifferent just so you could hide the fact that you’ve been working at your father’s warehouse. Come here you big lump, I deserve a hug at least.”

“Mercy, mercy, I’m really in agonizing pain here,” Fatty cried out, but still grinned broadly as he squeezed Skyle in a bear hug.

A very fat bear’s smothering hug, that is.

“You sure you lost ten pounds, Fatty?” Skyle noted after pushing himself away and finally being able to breathe again.

A dismissive snort was the only reply.

“So, where did you go off to?” Fatty asked while carefully returning to his previous position. Now that Skyle looked at it more carefully, it was obvious to see that it was the best position his friend had found to rest both his arms and legs.

“Long story, with each leg of the journey more fantastical than the last. It all begins when this here master huntsman decided to bend all of his formidable wit and guile upon the daring hunt of a fearsome magical beast whose wretched lair lay hidden deep within-”

Fatty waved his pudgy hands in Skyle’s direction, rolling his eyes in the perfect portrayal of a penitent sinner. “Spare me, I’d forgotten how long-winded you can be. And to think I’d missed this. Oh, gloried silence, how I miss thee and thy golden splendor.”

Skyle grinned, and Fatty returned it without words. In this simple gesture both boys expressed just how much they had missed each other’s company.

“Anyhow, how about you catch me up to what’s been happening around town in my absence?” Skyle smiled innocently, knowing Fatty couldn’t wait to begin telling his friend about the latest gossip. This was especially so since Leon’s army had apparently taken over the town’s inn.

“You mean besides you spending the afternoon rolling around in the mud and getting your nose caved into your face for your trouble by a bunch of poor devils?” Fatty teased.

Skyle coughed uncomfortably. He thought he had straightened himself up as much as he could and the rest had been washed away by the rain. He had forgotten how observant his friend was. “What do you mean poor devils? I was the victim, alright?”

Fatty scoffed as he waved his friend into silence. “Victim? Please, knowing you the way I do, you probably sent them weeping to their mothers, demanding to know why they had to be born into such a terrible world full of wolves hiding in sheep’s clothing like you.”

“I’ll have you know, never have I inflicted bodily violence upon others without just cause..” Skyle began, but trailed off as he thought of Fierro Latimus and Arleena Starbreeze, and their demise by his hands. This dispelled any levity he previously had, and a sigh escaped his lips.

“What’s the matter?” Fatty asked concernedly.

“Oh Fatty, a great and grievous injury has been visited upon my soul,” Skyle half-whispered as though to himself.

“What do you mean?” Fatty frowned as his hands tightened into fists. “Who dares mess with you? Just tell me and I’ll set them straight.”

Skyle smiled sadly as he looked into his friend’s eyes. “Life, my friend. The wretched fiend has forced me to leave my childhood behind and grow up. Who can I demand justice from for this affront?”

Unexpectedly, Fatty did not laugh. Instead, he sighed with the same desolate air as Skyle, and simply put a solidary arm around his friend’s shoulders without a word.

***

“So, you’re really not going to tell me what happened to you?” Fatty grumbled some time later, in between mouthfuls of Adrienne Farrow’s golden honey buttermilk biscuits. Though much worse for the wear, the rain hadn’t gotten to them and Fatty came in only as a close second in terms of devotion towards the delightful morsels.

“Not now. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I need some time to sort through this whole mess myself,” Skyle sighed.

“What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into, if not even your da can get you out of it?” That seemed to give Fatty a pause, as he gaped at Skyle with a biscuit lying half-forgotten in his hand.

“I haven’t told them yet, more’s the woe,” Skyle mumbled.

“Damn, only your parents could not give you so much as a spanking in the rear after you came back from a three-day trip lost in the Forbidden Forest without so much as an explanation,” Fatty said in a wondering tone.

Snorting, Skyle stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. “My da was the one that practically sent me chasing after that damn wildefox in the first place.”

“Hey, lay off. You must have stuffed your face full of biscuits before you came, don’t steal mine!” Fatty grumbled, his eyes full of grievance. He didn’t move to take the precious biscuit away though.

Skyle chuckled, knowing there was only one thing Fatty would rather die than share, even with his closest friend. Fatty might lay his riches, his body or his life on the line for his friend, but that’s as far as he could go. As soon as friendship began to intrude upon the boundary of tasty food, friendship might as well have never existed.

Between one of Adrienne Farrow’s honey biscuits and a friend, Skyle knew he could only come out as a poor second.

“C’mon Fatty, I know you always share the juiciest morsels for last. What’s with all the soldiers and the million gold carriages from the Draxas duchy?”

Finally, Fatty seemed to shake off his lethargy as he eyed the last few remaining biscuits laid out before him. The food fiend had another pleasure, and this was information. He treasured rare and valuable bits of information almost as much as he did good food. Like any true connoisseur, however, Fatty knew such value tasted sweeter still by virtue of comparison. Thus, Fatty never missed a chance to show off his intelligence before his friend.

“Damn, you have no idea,” Fatty’s pale cheeks flushed with blood as they began to quiver in excitement. “I heard there’s supposed to be a huge exchange between the top students of the Great Free Duchies and the Empire. For Lacrima Province, that means a cooperation between Blacksteel Academy and Aegis Academy.”

“Blacksteel Academy? Isn’t that the famous military school?” Skyle muttered, frowning.

“Haha, you’re well informed. Yeah, Blacksteel Academy has produced more Sage level generals than any other military school in the Great Duchies. There’s supposed to be an incredibly gifted fire summoner who was supposed to lead the exchange ceremony on behalf of the Blacksteel students. You’ll never guess who that is!”

“The young Lord of Draxas, I presume?” Skyle murmured absently.

Fatty gaped at Skyle like he’d been pole-axed. “H-How did you know?”

Skyle quickly recovered and shook his head. “Uh, I recognized the Draxas and Adrausier crest on the soldiers and the carriages. Only the scion of the house could warrant such an escort, right?”

Fatty nodded but looked impressed in spite of himself.

“Man, I forget how clever you can be sometimes.” Fatty sniggered. “But I bet you don’t know what the juiciest bit of news is.”

“Young Lord Draxas has mysteriously disappeared?” Skyle said casually, his attention elsewhere.

This time Fatty stared open-mouthed at his friend. “Y-You! How did you know? Nobody is supposed to know this except for the mayor and the high ranking officers in town!”

Skyle shrugged. “One of the guards let it slip, saying that they should be looking for the young lord.”

Fatty’s tossed a dark look towards the street outside. “Damn loose-mouthed guards. To think I had to bribe one of the town’s guard sergeants for this information.”

Skyle chuckled good-naturedly. “Relax, he made it sound like they just wanted to seek him out to ask him a question. Only when you were circling around the matter did it become obvious that there was something deeper in that guard’s comments.”

Fatty suddenly eyed Skyle with a considering squint in his eyes, but said nothing.

Skyle grew uncomfortable under his friend’s scrutiny, so he prompted him with another question.

“So, any information on the young Lord Draxas?”

Fatty shook his head. “Leon Draxas di Adrausier is apparently one of the most talented fire summoners the Great Duchies has ever seen, perhaps even rivaling our own Empire’s First Imperial Prince. Apparently he excels equally at both academic studies and martial pursuits. He even led his own squadron of mounted cavalry in a handful of wars, even though he’s barely thirteen. It is said he will officially take the mantle of the young Lord of Draxas when he reaches majority age in two years. Until then, he’s determined to graduate early from Blacksteel Academy’s curriculum with full marks, so he temporarily left the army.”

“Wait, that means he’s trying to reach the peak adept level by the age of fifteen?” Skyle stared in astonishment.

“It’s not as simple as that,” Fatty chuckled, darkly satisfied that he had finally managed to impress his friend. “You know that most students enter at the initiate level and don’t graduate from their academies until they reach nineteen or twenty years of age and reach peak adept level. However, Blacksteel is one of the top military academies in the Great Duchies and their requirement for graduation is reaching the master level!”

“What?” Skyle cried out involuntarily.

“Yeah, each graduate of Blacksteel Academy is a certified master level expert. That’s why the institution is so renowned. Even peak adept level students wash out.” Fatty explained with a pleased grin on his face.

“Didn’t you say the young Lord Draxas is a summoner? Isn’t that a lot more difficult than being a mage?”

Fatty snorted. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. Developing your power as a mage is thrice as difficult as doing so as a warrior. All the complex spells, rituals and equations demanded of a mage are just that much more complex than simply infusing elemental essence into your body as an elemental warrior. However, increasing your rank as a summoner is said to be five or even ten times more difficult than developing as a mage! That’s why some call the summoner’s talent the gift of the devil. After all, you wield incredible power but are also shackled by the strenuous difficulty of raising your power.”

Skyle rolled his eyes at that, and his voice dripped with undisguised contempt. “Oh, the poor legendary elemental summoner. How very tragic.”

Fatty face changed, and he looked chagrined. “Sorry Skyle, I didn’t mean.. I mean, your talent..”

“Or lack of one,” Skyle cut in, grinning at his friend’s discomfort. “Don’t worry about it. How long are you doing to pussy-foot your way around my disability. That’s the same as me feeling bad you’re so damn fat.”

Fatty’s lips stretched up in a valiant effort to smile, but there was little humor to it. “Don’t worry Skyle. I’ll keep searching, and one day we’ll find a way to cure your illness. I’ll make you an elemental warrior if I must dig up the earth and cleave the sky.”

Skyle lay a grateful hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It is not your burden to bear, Gordon.”

“Nor is it your right to refuse,” Fatty countered. “After all, your mother’s biscuits are a large factor behind my captivating obesity. I don’t take such favors lightly!”

Skyle grinned in surrender. “Have it your way, then.”

“Always!” Fatty crowed, then joined in as Skyle began to laugh helplessly.

After a moment, Skyle returned to the topic at hand.

“So, any clues as to where this supremely talented fire summoner went? Surely he didn’t magick himself into thin air?” Skyle asked in a carefully offhand manner.

Fatty shook his head. “He was last seen near the northern edge of the Forbidden Forest. I’m telling ya, that place is spooky as hell.”

Suddenly, Fatty frowned as he looked at Skyle in a considering manner. “Wait a second, didn’t you up and vanish in the Forbidden Forest as well? And right around the time Leon Draxas did. That’s awful suspicious.”

Skyle rolled his eyes. “Fatty, you’re growing paranoid. How could I stumble across a legendary figure in between feeding the hogs and watering the turnips?”

Fatty’s heavy-lidded gaze did not abandon Skyle, however. “Then why are you so curious about the young Lord Draxas all out of the blue? Usually it’s all about bows and Ash and little Kassandra and Reikard.”

Skyle felt bad for deceiving his friend, but for the time being it was not his secret to share. At least, it was not his alone. So, he was forced to pull out the shameful disability card to divert the other boy’s attention.

“Well, I was just hoping to hear something that might help me.. Well, you know, help treat my crippled elemental veins..”

As Skyle trailed off, he couldn’t help but avoid Fatty’s gaze and looked down at his feet, deeply ashamed.

Fatty took this as a rare sign of vulnerability from his friend, and instantly felt wretched for his own actions. “Don’t worry, Skyle. I’ll keep an ear out for this whole thing. Maybe these northerners have their own ways to treat conditions like yours. Important thing is, don’t give up!”

Skyle could only nod his head numbly, his cheeks coloring.

“Here, let me go get your daily bag of candied corn,” Fatty murmured, feeling very ill at ease and getting off his seat with a pained groan. “I tried to take some to Aegis Academy for little Kassandra while you were gone in order to console her, but she would have none of it. Strange girl, your sister. She’s unhealthily obsessed with her own big brother, let me tell ya.”

Skyle’s heart warmed when he heard that. How much of Kass’ candied corn obsession came from the actual sweet snack, and how much came from the great lengths and efforts to which her big brother had to go in order to procure a daily ration of it, Skyle himself did not know.

In truth, he didn’t care either. Let alone bearing the expenses and effort to procure some candied corn, for little Kass and Reik, he’d bear the whole world upon his shoulders.

That was family.