《Memorabilia of the Iron Princess》Request for grunt
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A cacophony of hammering wakes 11 from her dreams of the sea. She sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Her internal clock tells her it's 5:10 A.M.
She yawns.
“The people of this era need to chill.”
Outside her window, the sky is a light grey. 11 doesn’t need a forecast to know rain is coming.
Downstairs, Abetah darts around with speed unexpected from a one-legged person. She plonks a tray of muffin batter into the oven, taps the crystal that turns it on, then dashes back into the kitchen to begin an orchestra of clashing and scraping.
“Where’s the battle?” 11 jokes when Abetah emerges again with a bowl of cake-mix tucked under one arm.
“They’re going to take down the oven at noon today,” Abetah says. She tosses the bowl onto the counter. “Put that in when the muffins are done, dear.”
11 does what she’s told. Together, they manage to fill both display shelves with piping hot loaves of bread, muffins, and sweet rolls.
In the dining area, Abetah pulls out a seat and falls into it.
"That should tie us over for a few days," she says. "Thanks for your help, dear."
Even though 11 knows most of what they made will eventually end up in the local orphanages or pigsties as they always do, she puts on a smile and says, "I enjoyed it."
11 listens to the hammering above her head as she cracks eggs into the pan. It’s hard to think about anything through the noise, but that is good.
She had that dream again last night, the one about floating on the ocean with her sister Hikari.
Sister. Imouto. Hikari Chinen.
The words bring to mind many things, not all of them good. 11 still isn’t sure whether the dreams are glitches or real events. Either way, it's disconcerting to think she might have lived a whole other life before…
What? This one? Can something live when it doesn't even have a heartbeat?
As she transfers the fried eggs onto a plate, 11 catches sight of Abetah watching her from the doorway.
“Is something wrong?” 11 asks.
Abetah shakes her head, sadness lingering all around her. “Don’t mind me, dear. I’m just grateful, is all.”
11 gives the old woman a smile. It’s become easier, almost natural now. “I’m nearly done here. Please, have a seat.”
Back in the shop, Abetah places the cutlery while 11 brings food to the table. The old woman sighs. “It warms my heart to know there are still good people left in this world.”
“You’re exaggerating,” says 11. “Isn’t it human nature to 'love thy neighbor' and all that?”
They finish setting the table. 11 made sandwiches from the extra loaves of bread they can’t fit onto the shelves. She loaded them with cheese, salted meat, and fresh lettuce, then cut them up into bite-sized triangles and tied the meal together with fresh fruit juice and pickled carrots.
“My child,” says Abetah, “if that were really true, there would not be hundreds of people living beneath our feet and so much death happening outside our doors.”
11 tries not to think how many of those deaths were caused by her.
“Are you saying there’s an underground level to the city?” she asks, helping Abetah sit down before taking out a chair for herself. Upstairs, footsteps clomp about as Yue'li wakes up.
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“It is a stain on Kesrock’s legacy,” Abetah says. “Have you heard of the Ganyu War? Between Gandolia and Jinyu in 1168?”
11 picks up a sandwich piece and nibbles as she listens to Abetah recounting the historical conflict.
“I was only four when the worst of it was over,” says the old woman. “Most of what I know about the war came from my mother. Bless her soul. She used to tell me how the rivers ran red and the lands never seemed to stop burning.”
Scraping sounds come from the ceiling. 11 imagines Yue’li staggering from room to room, dragging her tail behind her.
“It began the summertime of 1168,” says Abetah, “after an elf child caused a magic-infused explosion inside a flower store, killing the shop owner and his family.”
“That’s horrible,” says 11. “Surely it was an accident?”
“We’ll never know,” says Abetah. “The child survived the blast but was murdered weeks later."
11 thinks about Aralyn.
"I knew an elf once," she says. "She was kind-hearted and brave, but was forced to hide who she is while in the company of others. ”
Yue’li emerges from the staircase then, her horns preceding her. “That’s a cowardly thing to do,” the little yaojin says. “She should embrace her looks. Being an elf must mean she’s pretty, right?”
“She is,” answers 11, “pretty, I mean. She’s not a coward.”
Yue’li patters barefoot over to the table, yawning as she pulls up a chair next to 11. “Elves have it lucky,” she says. “They don’t have nearly as many things to hide as yaojins.” She gives her tail a thwump to mark her point.
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw how the villagers were looking at her,” 11 says. “They were scared. And disgusted.”
“Don’t need to preach to me,” says Yue’li. “I live it.” She drags her fingers through her head of messy curls, tugging through the knots.
“Amazingly, she changed all that,” 11 says, reaching over with a hair tie made from her own nanobots. “In the end, those same villagers were grateful for her.” With a few quick maneuvers, she wrangles the beast on Yue'li's head into something presentable.
Yue'li mumbles, "Thanks". Then she says, “You really like talking her up, this Aralyn person. Makes me wonder why she isn’t with you.” She picks up a fork and stabs it into a piece of sandwich.
11 watches as orange-colored yolk bleeds from between the bread, and wonders why, too.
Abetah makes a little gasp. “That’s right, I almost forgot.” Reaching into her apron she takes out two white envelopes, with the names Elevena Windborne and Yue’ling Basilona written on the front.
“A hawk from the Guild came by this morning.”
“No way!” Yue’li shoots up, clambering across the table to take the envelopes from Abetah. “I got one too?”
“Ah, ah.” Abetah pulls the envelopes out of Yue’li’s reach. “Have you forgotten your manners?”
Yue’li pouts. “May I see them, please, Beth.”
“Certainly.”
Yue’li takes the envelopes with both hands, making a grand gesture of appreciation, before tearing open the one with her name on it.
“Yes!” She practically screams as she shows 11 the letter. “Look Elle, I’m hired! I have work today!”
Amused, 11 takes her envelop and reads the contents inside. As usual, it details her grunt service being requested, stating the time and place of her deployment. Up in one corner is the Guild’s seal, a six-legged lion roaring into the stars.
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11 says, “It looks like we’re both working out of the East Gate today. I wonder if we have the same master.”
“Who cares?” Yue’li laughs. “We’re gonna get paid!” She stuffs the rest of her breakfast into her mouth and races up the stairs. “Ih’m ghedding my gear! Dhon’t leabe wihoud me!”
“Don’t run with your mouth full!” Abetah reminds, but her voice disappears within the ruckus.
Back at the table, 11 looks to Abetah and says, “Anything you want me to pick up on my way home?”
Abetah pats 11 on the hand. “Just yourselves, safe and sound.” Then with an almost inaudible sigh, she gazes out the taped-up windows at the front of the bakery.
“Sometimes I envy you younglings. It’s been so long since I’ve been outside the city walls, I’m starting to forget what it’s like out there.”
“I’ll take you,” 11 says, “outside the walls. Yue’li too. When the renovations for the inside begin, the three of us can go somewhere far away. It’d be like a family road trip.”
As soon as the words leave her lips 11 regrets them. She’s seen how difficult it is for Abetah to even climb stairs. Who knows how she will fair against rough terrain, on a wooden leg no less?
But when she considers retracting her promise she sees Abetah’s expression and stops.
“I’d like that very much dear,” says the old woman, giving 11’s hands a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."
Between secret meetings with Censa and taking commissions, 11 has lost count of how many times she’s set foot into the marble castle of the Heroes’ League. It’s almost like a second home to her, so she knows immediately that something is wrong when they enter through the doors.
People are staring. As she and Yue’li walk through the foyer, whispers start behind their backs. Some people openly gawk while others only sneak glances.
11 whispers to Yue’li, “What are they all looking at?”
“You,” says Yue’li. “Or me. We’re both a little standout-ish, don’t you think?”
11 glances down at her reflection through the marble floors. She looks every bit like a high-ranking captain in the armor Censa gave her, with shimmering scales overlapping her body and a white cape flowing over her shoulders.
She has no doubt that this is exactly the effect Censa wants.
The red-haired receptionist smiles as they approach. “Good morning,” she says. “Welcome to the Heroes’ League.”
Yue’li hands over the letters proudly. “We’ve been requested.”
“Good for you,” says the receptionist. She matches the names on the letters with the corresponding commissions on her desk.
“Here you are,” she says. “Yue’ling Basilona. Drops Collection and Transport. Requested by Master Elijah Larmings.” She looks back at Yue’li. “Location starts in the Eastern Stone Forest. Payment will be ten silver bits.”
Yue’li nods. “I accept.”
The receptionist turns to 11. “Elevena Windborne,” she says, not needing to read 11’s letter. “I have… less than stellar news.”
“Am I fired?” 11 asks. “I wouldn’t mind being fired.”
The receptionist looks surprised. Then she laughs. “No. You’re just requested by Master Elong Sparkles.”
Yue’li makes a gagging sound. “Not him. Deny the commission, Elle.”
11 has heard a lot about Master Sparkles from the other grunts. The young adventurer has been known to work his grunts until they cried or died or both.
“I was wondering when he’d pick me,” she says.
“You don’t need his money, Elle,” Yue’li says. “I know about Sparkles. He isn’t worth the job.”
“But I made a promise to Cen- Lady Thornrose,” 11 says. “I’m not taking the coward’s way out.”
Her response seems to confuse Yue'li. “There’s nothing cowardly about declining a request,” says the little yaojin.
“But there is in wearing a hood in public?” says 11. She realizes too late what a low blow that is.
“Is this what it’s about?” Yue'li asks. “That I called your elf girlfriend a coward? I wear a hood, too, mind you!”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” 11 says. “And she isn’t-”
“I am not having this conversation with you!” Yue’li throws her hands up and walks away. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Elle. It’s like you’re from another world!”
11 watches as the little yaojin stomps away. She turns to tell the receptionist, “I accept the commission,” before giving chase.
Neither of the two girls say anything until they’re walking down the sandy path back into the city.
“I’m sorry,” 11 says. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Yue’li harrumphs. “If you love her so much why don’t you go live with her? What are you doing in Kesrock?”
“It’s not that simple,” 11 says.
"When is it ever?"
"I had to leave. Because…”
“I notice how you didn’t deny the love part earlier.”
11 decides she needs to change the subject. “What is ‘Drops Collection and Transport’ anyway? This is the first time I’ve taken a request for it.”
Yue’li glances up at the sky, her eyes narrowing at the dark clouds on the horizon. "You carry loot around," she says. "It’s dirty, sweaty work, and Master Sparkles will definitely make it worse by trying to cop a feel or two.”
11 can’t help but laugh. “He’s that bad?”
“Does it matter?” Yue’li makes an exaggerated sigh. “You’ll take the job no matter what I say. Don't argue. You know I'm right about that.” She picks up the pace but with how much shorter she is to 11, it doesn’t put much distance between them.
11 says, “Why are you so mad at me? I’m choosing to be professional with my grunt work but you’re making it sound like a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?” Yue’li turns suddenly on 11. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Elle, but you never listen. Not with the attunement test, not with Lady Thornrose’s deal, and now this too.” She sticks a finger at 11’s chest. “This time, you’ll see. Don’t come crying to me tonight when your commission goes sour because all I’ll say to you then is, I told you!”
Yue’li pivots, her heels making circles in the sand, and marches down the road. 11 watches, stunned, as the little yaojin disappears into the crowds. In the distance, her ears pick up the rumbling crash of thunder rolling through the mountains, and the beating of an autumn wind.
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