《Vessel》17.

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“Pretty.” A girl mutters polishing the gem embedded in the bundle of tattered red cloth. “No, no time for pretty!”

Yanking the bag with her the child scampers over an exposed tree root and burrows her body into a tight crevice of rotting wood.

Following behind her is the sound of footsteps, and the panting breaths of multiple large four-legged creatures.

Sensing a whimper from the girl, one of the creatures emits a low growl, summoning the others to join it at its location.

“Hold onto this tightly. Once you have it, insert your ma…” Aryn begins to instruct to the girl as he passes a slab of metal at random disregarding his rule with reckless abandon. “Just focus on the feeling in your hands and shout, ‘Get away!’”

I’m sure she’s partially in shock due to the sudden turn of events but after a very long moment I feel the weight of the sword slowly shifting. Aiding her carefully to receive the sword from out of the bag eventually the blade exits fully.

“I can’t lift it up.” The girl again whimpers as the sounds of footsteps and growling grow closer and closer.

“Then don’t, just hold the handle tightly and shout with all your feelings.”

If this kid is anything like the others recently, she will have at least enough mana to activate a mana pulse. And if these are anything like demon-wolves from my era, then a mana pulse will be plenty to scare them away.

“GET AWAY! HIYA!” A hearty shout answers my prayers after a heart pounding moment.

She can be excused for improvising her line. As long as she succeeds.

And from the size of this place now, I would say she definitely fed mana into the surroundings.

“…” After waiting for as long as I could bear, I eventually ask. “Everything ok?”

“Mhm.” A confused voice answers. “How’d you do that? You saved my life!”

“You saved your own life, didn’t you?” I counter retrieving the blade she carefully passes back.

Oh, that could have been bad. I should be glad she didn’t just keep it as her present. I’ve got to be more careful about what I hand out.

Still, to think there would be a child capable of producing a mana pulse with that sword. I was only barely able to make one and I’m an almost an adult. There might just be hope after all. Maybe a hero could really be born someday.

“Who are you?” The girl asks interrupting my imaginings of the future.

Oh, I suppose I did blow the whole ‘I am a just a random magic tool’ routine, huh? “I’m the hero’s bag.”

“Nice to meet you… Bag.” The girl giggles. “I’m Enola, but the mistress calls me Noel.”

“That’s a good name, Noel.” I respond with a stupid grin growing on my face. Her simple happiness is somewhat infectious. Moments ago she was facing near-death and now she is chirping without a care.

“Right!? And before she left, mom even gave me a last name like I’m some fancy royal lady! Enola Reve! Doesn’t it sound exotic and cool?!”

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“It does! Enol… Ah.” I inadvertently halt as I connect a few of the dots her mother didn’t bother hiding too carefully. Enola Reve. The smile I was wearing moments ago quickly fades after the realization occurs.

What a harsh person, she couldn’t even stop herself at just the one scar.

“Shouldn’t you start heading back home? It’s obviously dangerous out here.” I prompt to get my mind off the marks her parents had left on her.

“Hmm. I guess I can finish for the day early. I didn’t find quiet enough, but I suppose you make up for it, Bag.” With another giggle Noel begins heading back towards the road to town.

“What was it that you were looking for?” I absently ask as small feet slowly carry us towards her village.

“When the peddlers come to town I trade them pressed flowers for coins. I was hoping if I came this far, I would find something unique.”

“Saving up for something?”

“Nope, mistress uses the money to keep me and the rest of the kids happy and healthy. It’s not cheap, I have to get five flowers finished a day or it starts getting cold at night for everyone. Firewood’s expensive.” Noel gripes as she inspects the two flowers she had managed today.

Looking at one of the many white gold coins littering the floor I almost vomit in pure embarrassment.

Lifting one I begin to ask myself if it is really that simple though.

“Is the mistress from the church?”

“No, she’s the town mom.” Noel earnestly responds as the sound of her feet begins echoing off cobbles. “Most of her kids are grown up and in the army, or living in the capital, but she has three who help out and watch the younger kids and babies. There will be another soon she says. I can’t wait, I wonder if it will be a boy or girl.”

I… I Think I understand.

How do I ask this without scaring a child? Then again does the answer even matter? I suppose it doesn’t but…

“Is the mistress the only adult you all live with? She’s not married?”

“Nope, but sometimes when the army marches through some of them will spend the night since it’s the only house with lots of open bedrooms.”

Alright that’s enough.

“But lately the mistress is more tired than usual, she sleeps alot. I wonder if she’s getting sick.”

What does a child do to deserve this kind of life? What kind of kingdom lets villages like this exist?

“We’ll be there soon,” Noel eagerly chimes as she continues down the road. “I will show you my house.”

Her house?

▐◊▌▐◊▌

From her description, shack or shed might have been more apt I suppose, but she is a child. And something this size is probably luxurious for someone her age.

“Over here is my table where I can practice letters and eat.” Continuing the tour without minding my thoughts Noel leads me outside without realizing my inability to see. “The fire pit over there is too big so I made this out of rocks and some scrap metal from Dago’s shop.”

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Again with the infectious eagerness. Her outgoing nature is even more significant considering her living conditions.

“Noel? You here?” A voice from the front of the shack calls.

“Oh, it’s Pat. He brings meat sometimes. He’s the butcher.” Noel explains as she skips around the building. “Hi Pat! What’s for dinner?”

“Afternoon Noel.” The man kindly echoes patting Noels head gingerly. “Yesterday everything but tongue sold, but I know your thoughts on that, so I splurged a bit. Voila, pork shank cubes for the little lady.”

“Yay, thanks Pat! I’m hosting a new friend so I was hoping you would bring something great!” With voice muffling from the wide hug she readily gave, Noel thanks the man earnestly.

“I see. Good luck then.” Pat responds with a chuckle before setting off towards town.

“He had more food. I bet he was headed towards the Linkon’s house.” Noel mutters as she watches the man head off. “Pat gives away food a lot. He’s really nice, but he always gets angry at the mistress, and then they both cry. It’s sad.”

“Mhm.” I force in response. Probably even more than you can imagine, Noel. Quickly though, to change the subject. “You said you were hosting you didn’t mean you planned to…”

“Of course I’m cooking for you too. It’d be rude not to.” Noel reasons adamantly before questioning her own motives a bit. “Even if you are a bag… You have to eat./?”

“I do.”

“Yeah. You have to eat, after all.” Noel answers with more confidence this time around.

With no more debate, and a distinct lack of any of the jerky that once kept me going, it was decided that we would share a meal together.

▐◊▌▐◊▌

This routine continued for weeks. Other than the adventurers, I can’t say I’ve ever been able to stay awake this long. And even with the adventurers they were trading off the duty once they grew exhausted. But Noel doesn’t get tired.

I’ve asked. She claims she is fine, and she won’t let me go, even for a moment.

It can’t be healthy for a child. I’ve seen first hand with Jiro the effect a magic tool can have on a developing human.

Since it’s out of my control I will leave it to her to decide but I will have to put my foot down at some point.

There is another thing I have noticed about Noel.

She refuses my gifts. She won’t take anything.

I can’t understand the logic behind it.

At one point a couple days passed with her not receiving any of the firewood her flower collecting job was supposed to be paying for.

Of course, she continued to collect and sell the pressed goods as well as delivering the money to her increasingly delirious mistress. But the agreement was basic necessities including firewood and clothes. And now neither of those were being filled.

She doesn’t earn pennies for these flower pressings either, they are proper prices for proper handcrafts.

Returning to the story, yesterday I tossed a chunk of coal I found in one of the crates stacked in the corner onto the ground beside her bed, but the following morning I received it back with no explanation.

If she won’t even accept something to keep her warm at night how am I supposed to give her enough money to get the hell out of this place?

One coin would give her a life she deserves, but she wouldn’t even take it if I offered, and I can’t understand why.

On a side note, the meals she makes are pretty good. Maybe it’s just the fact that I haven’t eaten anything substantial since the king’s party, what was it, maybe six thousand years ago?

I’ll say one thing; the flavor of peppered steak hasn’t changed much.

At least I have one constant.

▐◊▌▐◊▌

Back to the deep section of the forest again. Does this girl never learn?

I suppose its her job. But still, completely unarmed, she ventures back to the forest day after day. I am here now, but there is only so much I can do as a non-corporeal voice.

“Will you let me carry the flowers this time at least.” I again beg for the fifth consecutive trip. “They will be in better condition when you press them. It will be like they were picked moments before.”

“…” Himming and hawing to herself eventually Noel relents before quickly yanking the flower pedal from my reach once again. “If… If you give this back does it count as me taking something from you?”

“According to the definition, but I don’t think that’s what you are referring to, is it?” I suspiciously sniff, noticing the very specific wording. “Spill it.”

“Y…” Again hesitating with flower in hand like a panicked maiden Noel thinks over her words. “You’re the magic bag who gives a gift and disappears, right? Like in the stories? So if you give these flowers back, will you disappear?”

Ah.

So, I’ve become that type of myth?

“I won’t disappear because of something as simple as that. The gift I want to give you should be much better than a handful of little flowers.”

“Hey!” Noel growls in anger at my diss of her livelihood.

“Sorry I didn’t mean it like that. They are pretty. But I want to give you something you wish for more than anything, not a few flowers. There’s no way I would disappear that easily.” I comfort with a bitter smile. So, it was something like that all this time?

“I get to laugh and talk while we eat.” Noel plainly says as the flowers appear through the wall and tumble into my awaiting palm. “So, you’ve already given me my wish.”

Laughing and tugging me toward the next patch of wildflowers Noel wasn’t aware of my deepening confliction.

How can I ever tell this girl to throw me away? It’s how it must be, but I already know it will break my heart.

She’s not aware of the darker legend revolving around me, the ones only I could be aware of. She doesn’t know what keeping me will bring to her, and I can’t bear to tell her.

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