“Alright! What do you say we hit the Dozing Lamb for some food and victory drinks? I think we did some good work today!”

So had been Dubhan’s suggestion when he and Allouet departed from the church. Allouet, less interested in bar food, suggested a more substantial meal instead. The suggestion may or may not have also been an attempt to prevent the guild’s money from being spent on drinks. So, Dubhan had decided on a new plan.

The two stood outside the door to Dubhan’s apartment.

“I’m honestly surprised to hear that you cook,” Allouet commented as Dubhan opened the door.

“Hey, you’re the one who said I was reliable before, I don’t know what you’re so surprised about. Besides, I have to show some appreciation to my guildmates, right?”

“I don’t know why you’re pluralizing that, but I suppose…” Allouet stopped when the door opened and he properly saw the interior of Dubhan’s apartment.

The place was just as much of a mess as Dubhan left it, with mismatching furniture buried under everything ranging from clothes that still needed to be put away to books, knickknacks, and piles of parchment with notes scribbled over them. The nicest feature of the otherwise cheap apartment was a fireplace built into one wall, owing to the apartment’s higher floor, but even that went unused and was blocked by a couple of chairs.

Allouet looked around, his face crinkling at the sight, having not truly seen the inside of the apartment the last time he was here. “You... live in this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, I guess I should have cleaned up a bit first if I was gonna invite someone over, huh?” Dubhan walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed a stack of books off of it, the chairs mercifully free of clutter. “Anyway, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get started on dinner!”

“Honestly...” Allouet took a seat in one of the chairs while Dubhan set to work.

Once the night’s meal was ready, Allouet was pleased to see that Dubhan’s cooking skills in fact lived up to his confidence. The two were able to enjoy a hearty and warm meal that almost successfully distracted Allouet from the complete mess in Dubhan’s home.

“So, I was kinda wondering,” Dubhan said at one point during the meal, “Where have you been staying, anyway?”

“I’ve taken up a room in one of the local inns not farm from here,” Allouet answered. “Why do you ask?”

Dubhan shrugged. “Well, it hasn’t come up before. I’d hope you’re getting to stay somewhere comfortable, y’know?”

“Well, I do appreciate your concern, but I am doing quite well there. I’m given to understand it’s common for Yggdrasil’s explorers to do so, isn’t it?”

“It is, sure. But you’ve got enough money to take care of yourself? I know our guild’s just starting out, so…”

Allouet raised an eyebrow. “I feel I should be asking you that question. You’ve lived here much longer than I have and you have rent to pay for a proper apartment. Yet you haven’t had a proper guild to take on work with all this time.”

“What, you think I can’t handle myself on my own?” Dubhan said, grinning widely. “I’ve been doing pretty well for myself, for your information. Even jobs on the surface of the labyrinth are enough for me to have a place to live and pay for scythe number eight. Or… is this one nine?”

“Then, similarly, you can trust that I—nine? Dubhan, how many of those have you lost?”

Dubhan looked at the scythe resting up against the wall on the other side of the apartment. “Well… Since this one’s nine, that would mean eight, wouldn’t it?”

Allouet sighed. “Fine, poor choice of phrasing for that question. You’ve lost eight scythes. Is that… Is that perhaps not a sign that you should use a different sort of weapon? I’ve never understood why harbingers use such a… unique weapon of choice. Especially something so large in the closed quarters we’re exploring.”

“I mean, it’s how we’re trained. There’s a lot of history and tradition behind it, but the short answer is that it’s the fighting style I’m used to. It’s good for trip attacks, and both the outer and inner blade edges are sharp to keep it versatile against different enemy positions.”

Allouet tapped the fingers of one hand along the table, thinking. “I see… What of that power you used against the furyhorn?”

“The what?”

“The dark mist. Surely you haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

“Oh, right.” Dubhan remembered, but in truth, he had hoped Allouet was the one who’d forgotten. Then again, this was likely inevitable now that he’d formed a guild. “Yeah, well, that’s part of what harbingers do, too. There’s… energies that we’re in tune with, and we can use those to hinder our enemies.”

Allouet nodded, seeming as if he was understanding something about that. “I see. So, it’s something akin to sensing mana, then?”

“Uhh, probably? Is that the magic detecting you were talking about earlier, that lunarians do?”

“Well, not all of us, but yes. Mana is the energy that fuels magic, it’s typically found naturally in an environment and is what warlocks such as myself draw upon to cast spells. I’ve always found it odd to think that other species are wholly incapable of it, though. It would make sense if your training is similar to that concept.”

“Oh… Well, it’s not exactly the same thing, from what I know, but I guess it kind of works like that.” Dubhan waved a hand to move on from the topic, saying, “But, hey! You don’t wanna hear about that, it’s boring and it’s not even gonna be educational if I’m the one talking about it. We’re supposed to be celebrating! Tell me more about Lagaard, I want to hear about that.”

Allouet smiled. It was clear from the look in his eyes that Dubhan’s change in subject had not been remotely subtle, but still, Allouet smiled and made no comment on it. “Very well,” he said, “I’d be happy to.”