Life in the Northern Marches of the Union can be savage, but it is also beautiful.

Modern Times, by Dimona V.

“Never realized that furniture could be so expensive,” Johanna finally said, exasperated.

The man shrugged.

“Most of it is made to order, to fit your house. Stuff like those bedframes, that’s simple. It’s almost standard. Chairs, tables, that’s easy, notably if you want what’s in stock. But do you really want ill-fitting cabinets? That’s why I’ll come around and take measurements myself.”

“When will that be?” Laura asked.

“If you’re there later today, I’ll come around.”

Johanna was still acting as treasurer for the group, so she finally pulled some of her silver, paying for tables and chairs, a down payment for cabinet and shelves. Valetta had only one dedicated furniture store, so while they might find carpenters willing in the city to do some of the work, it was going to take time.

And they were going to head out of Valetta most of the time.

Once out of the store, encumbered by one chair each, Johanna let a sigh escape.

“I know it saves money in the long term, but staying at the inn was much easier.”

“Starting from scratch,” Peter said.

“Better that way. A fresh start,” Tom replied.

“In theory, I could sneak back home. So, we’d rather hurry and see the Reverend to change that,” he replied.

“Oh, right. We still need to do that,” Johanna said.

The four found Reverend Blacknall at his home, next to the church. They got immediately invited in and started in earnest to discuss their plans.

“We’ve always said we wanted to marry once we were settled, and, well, that’s finally happening.”

The pastor looked at the others, who nodded in agreement.

“And all four of you at the same time.”

“That’s probably better. The problem is that, until the weather turns hard, we’ll be away from Valetta often. And once that happens, it’s slightly more cumbersome to invite our families,” Johanna said.

Peter almost replied but stopped just in time, unwilling to address his potential familial trouble. The pastor didn’t notice and went on.

“You’re working out of Valetta?”

“We’re salvagers, actually. So, we go to the western ruins, pick useful stuff, and bring it back here to sell.”

“There are people who think the ruins of the Ancient should remain in the hands of the Ancients. Accounts of the Fall are not really trustworthy, but there is no doubt those ruins are full of the dead.”

Johanna winced inwardly.

“Not that I agree or disagree with your choice of profession. Those Ancients died more than a century ago, and that ground is definitively not a consecrated one. We’re not heathens, like many of those fishermen on the west shore, and the possessions of the dead are not sacred. All the same, I hope you do remember that the dead are to be afforded respect.”

“We do. Even with mana preserving some of the ruins, there’s almost never any trace…”

She hesitated. Because, of course, there had been a trace, recently.

“When we see remains, we don’t disturb them,” she added.

“It’s sad that so many will be unburied, but the Lord will welcome them on the Day of Judgement all the same.”

The Reverend smiled and went back to the matter at hand.

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“So, have you decided on a date already?”

Johanna looked at the rest of the team.

“Takes about two weeks? Two and a half per run?”

“Bit more if we run dry,” Tom mused.

“We can always adjust for timing,” Laura said.

Peter merely shrugged.

“It’s just a matter of knowing when. We wouldn’t miss our own wedding, after all.”

“It’s Monday… would Monday in three weeks work?” Johanna asked.

“We have services on Tuesday and Thursday for those who can’t attend Sunday, so any other day is fine. Although so fast? It is still an important decision.”

“We’ve been talking about it for more than a year. It’s just the date that’s really undecided.”

“All of you are old enough?”

“Laura and I are the youngest, but we’re still over 18. We’ll be 19 in the fall, even. Me in October, she in November,” Peter said.

“Do you want to publish banns? It’s a bit short, but given that you are newcomers…”

“Maybe… keep it small? Just the families?” Johanna hesitated.

“Sounds good,” Tom said.

“Me too.” “Those who want will know.”

“Then all that remains will be for you to decide on names. But that’s for the registration at the city hall.”

They all rose.

“Then, Monday, August 30th. Come tomorrow, and I’ll have the service schedule completed.”

They rose, shaking hands with the Reverend. As they left, he had one last reminder.

“And don’t forget your rings.”

Johanna rolled her eyes, having forgotten that expense as well.

“I knew city life was expensive, but that is ridiculous. I’m down to less than 500 dollars already,” Johanna said, sighing.

“You insisted on paying the rings,” Peter said.

“Plain ones,” Tom replied.

“Even then,” Johanna noted.

“Guys. These expenses are all one-shot,” Laura added.

“We do need to resume salvage quickly.”

“That we do. It will be… good,” Johanna said.

“So. Names,” Tom said.

“It will feel a bit weird, changing my name. Johanna Welter? Sounds good?” Johanna said.

“Tradition is the heir of the business keep the name,” Tom said.

“Wait, what business?” she shot back.

“You’re the one who started it.”

“But that’s not how it works.”

“Fits, though,” Tom said.

“It’s twisting traditions!”

“Tom? Heads or tails?”

Johanna turned to Peter, frowning. Tom was bewildered as well, only replying reflexively.

“Uh, heads?”

Peter flipped a coin, caught it, and showed his hand’s back.

“Tails. Congratulations, Tom Milton.”

“Wait, did you…”

“Trying to solve your problem,” the small man said.

Johanna advanced on Peter, and he started backpedaling. Then he stopped, and she reached him.

“Picking names on a coin flip? Really?” she growled.

Then she noted he wasn’t looking at her, but down. She looked there, but saw nothing special, and instantly suspected some misdirection.

“I can’t move,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“My… feet are glued to the ground.”

She frowned and looked at Tom and Laura, who both shrugged, Tom obviously sending a “not my problem” message. She looked back at Peter, who had moved back a step.

“Stuck again… are you… doing that?”

Johanna blinked.

Then she realized what might be going on, and reached for the sensation, the non-muscle that she used to keep the fire up, and tried to relax.

Peter moved, and exhaled.

“Thanks.”

Then he frowned.

“Wait, you’re…”

“Checking if I’m really doing something. But if you can tell that I’m doing it again… obviously you’re not faking it.”

“You have another new ability?” Tom asked.

“Looks like,” Johanna answered. “I wish I’d known. It would have made those Lepuses easier.”

Tom snorted.

“For you maybe. If I’m trying to get to them, they couldn’t escape me.”

“That makes the coin toss worth it,” Peter added.

Both Johanna and Laura rolled their eyes at the same time.

“So… does this mean Milton it is?” Tom asked.

Johanna almost rejected the idea outright again, but then she realized the truth.

“As if it really mattered?” she smiled.

“Leaves the matter of those two,” he replied.

The two of them looked at the other couple. Laura shook her head in disbelief.

“The way it’s going, it’s going to be decided by who is on top…”

“DIBS!”

“Wait? What? But you usually like better if…” she stuttered before running her hand across her face.

Johanna almost groaned as well, before restraining herself. At least… if they indulged in such levity, even on matters like the choice of their future… things weren’t that bad.

Things were on the up, Moore decided. Apparently, Johanna had figured out she had a new skill, given that the experience on the stat had finally jumped. She was a bit behind Laura, who’d figured out her new skill almost immediately.

Given the situation, she’d probably used Earthbind on Peter, for some non-obvious reason. That was the usual problem, lack of context.

That mainly left Tom, who lacked any form of skill working outside of combat. That was the annoying bit with Battler; the specialization didn’t seem to include much that looked like it had any utility outside of combat. Meaning the only experience the guy was getting was the paltry 3-6 points per day and nothing in any stat.

Well, that’s what the global pool is for.

“Time to head out,” Johanna called out.

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” the answer from the floor above came.

“Lord, I’m starting to think being a citizen has made you two lazy,” she replied.

“Nah, it’s just that we can pick what we pack now,” Peter’s voice came as she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Really? As if you didn’t know what’s needed,” she replied, throwing a dark look at the small man. “If you really don’t, ask Laura.”

“Well, she does help packing. Or rather, not packing.”

A groan came out from behind him.

“Don’t accuse me. It’s you who didn’t unpack when we arrived,” she said.

“Yea. There’s that. By the way, we might look to salvage more useful stuff. For home, that is,” he replied.

“It sounds a practical idea,” Johanna.

“We could live like rich people… imperial style?” Laura eyed her fiancée.

Peter shrugged.

“Practical and stylish. What’s not to like.”

All four were finally out, and Johanna closed and locked the door.

“Still feels funny,” Tom said.

“Yes. And we probably need to make copies of the key,” she noted.

“More spending,” he replied.

“It shouldn’t be that expensive. Will it?” she asked, but no one offered an opinion.