Chapter 9: 9. Little Brother

Kalle showed up the next day bright and early, with a travelling pack that was busting at the seams and bumping up and down with each step.

He was met by both Harold and his sleepy-looking brother.

“Morning Kalle, this is Oscar, my brother. I might have forgotten to mention him, but he’s all in. Ain’t yuh bud?” The sleepy looking, fourteen year old, sandy-haired teen gave his older brother a suffering look, but assured Kalle. “Yes, don’t worry, I’ll help out.”

“Uh, sure, you’re welcome to come. He’s told you what it will be like though, yeah? I’m sure we can find some people for you to stay with here otherwise, I could talk to my old folks since they’ll have room now, with me leaving?” Kalle figured he should make sure.

“Don’t worry, my brother may have been acting presumptuous not mentioning your plans to me until last night, but he wasn’t lying. I’m all in, and if we stick together I won’t mind a challenge,” He looked at his brother and seemed to recall some memory. “Within reason. You guys have been planning this quite a while?”

“No, we met yesterday.” They both quickly headed inside the tavern, leaving Oscar stupefied on the porch.

What followed was an intense session of planning everything from meals, to a route on the vague map Kalle had gotten from home, and how they would handle emergencies like running into predators or bandits. They shared what they had found out about their Skills, Oscar listening most intently at that bit, and then they planned out how to get the place sold.

“We’ll use our Skills and level up on the road, look for a place where we can learn more about our Classes, find a nearby spot to settle, and then take things from there.” Kalle summarized.

One of the Spells Kalle showed the two was a pure escape-art that fooled the target into seeing its prey escape through a strange door that vanished upon closing. It was all an illusion though, a scene that played while the real you ran a different way.

Oscar unexpectedly piped in just as the two young magi felt ready to head to town; “You’ve got some good interplay I’m sure between [Spore of Dreams] and [Wailing Bolt] both being mental attacks, since one seems to be purely magical while the spores ought to be some sort of physical manifestation magic. Not to mention [Escape Room] and [Regenerating Form] should both help us escape and survive rough situations.” The words left both of them speechless.

After a bit Kalle added. “I’ve also got a finishing strike, I think, but I haven’t had a chance to use it on anything larger than an average boar yet. It’s called [Mind Blast], but I need to touch the target.”

“That’s still only eight of your Skills though?” Oscar pried.

“Yes, I would tell you the rest, but they have a higher efficiency on the unaware it seems, and I’m not fully sure how the last one works. I’ve told your brother the one I used on him, so I hope you’re not worried, but we may as well leave it off for now.” Oscar could only trust his brothers judgement since it seemed mental Classes were quite tricky to figure out.

As that concluded the final strategizing, the three lads were soon headed into town fully packed, since they weren’t planning on taking no for an answer.

---

Lena was leaning on her freshly renovated bar, enduring the late summer heat and taking her ease after a lunch rush.

She was the owner of the new, yet to be named, inn & tavern, right across from the general store and by the town square.

It wasn’t that she was some shrewd businesswoman who was trying to take advantage of tragedy to compete with the Hare’s Retreat, she knew the kid for Pete’s sake, and poor Ronald who used to run it.

But she’d had this place since she was young, albeit in a smaller form, and with the legendary pre- and afterparties that had taken place once upon a time, albeit quite a few years ago by now, when the kid made it clear he needed some space this was the natural watering hole for all the local drunks. It started out fun, but going on three months was pushing it as far as Lena was concerned.

Just as she was gathering some energy for a bite for herself, she noticed another bout of entertainment had arrived. Yesterday she’d watched curiously as the very same Harold, backed up by the perpetual new kid, had stumbled in, declaiming they had a big sale to make and for those looking for a business to gather around.

Salman who ran the general store had had a glint in his eye from the very first stumble, and was quick to ridicule their words. Despite them insisting and him having the grace to back off, the tone had been set and the rest of the square had their say at the lad’s expense before the boys sheepishly swore to return in a more coherent state.

Now here he was, with a very different kind of backup. Dunner. With his brother Oscar hiding in the background.

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“Oh, but what have we here. Lunch is over, so you know. I doubt you’re here for drinks, after how it put ideas in your head yesterday?” Lena greeted them with a sneer.

Harold took the words more calmly than expected. “Don’t worry, I learned a lesson alright. I was just hoping you had time for a talk?”

The inn still had some guests, including the couple of guards from the days before, but they had had their fill and were just biding the time until this curiosity arrived.

“Lena, I know you’ve been running an inn here, and I was hoping maybe you enjoyed the work compared to your weaving, but also wanted your house back?” Harold initiated.

Lena looked openly at him, urging him to go on. It was true she had the [Weaver] Class, and at a rather high level too. But she hadn’t gotten very lucky at all with her Skills, and with new generations picking Classes every year she was further and further from creating weaves of true value. And her Skills cut down on the time she needed for producing too, so may as well get herself a side-gig. But that's not how you negotiate.

When the words failed to get Harold more than a blank stare he courageously went on. “And if so, you could buy my place and run an inn from there instead, while using this house for something quieter?” He tried, feeling reasonably well over not fumbling his words.

“Hah, I should buy it he says, using what money Harold? I notice you haven’t even mentioned a price yet, and why would I want to walk all the way over there, because you’ve got a slightly larger house and some chickens and equipment to brew your own drink?”

Oscar looked dismayed. He’d heard all about the harsh reception the newfound partners attempt had earned them yesterday. Dunner was about to interject when suddenly the younger guard guffawed from behind them.

“Lena, that’s just harsh. Will you please help the kid out one more time Captain?” He nudged his superior while sporting a bit of a mad grin.

His superior shoved him lightly but was smiling as well. “Come now Lena, we all know you’re sick and tired of having every occasion for a party end up here. And that you’ve been planning on running this place as the inn-portion, with the raucous tavern parties taking place safely outside of town as it should.” She turned from Lena back to Harold. “And you, you’re planning on leaving, right. Those weren’t just drunken words yesterday?”

“They were not.” Harold had never tried to look so serious. Dunner was holding his breath, while Oscar looked around with suspicion.

“And you’ve got a magic Class to boot, meaning he’s qualified for the village funds Lena.”

It was a well-kept secret that Salcret sent the young adults who decided on combat- and magic Classes out on the road to get tempered, should they wish to. It was a harsh world, but Salcret was founded by such travellers. With a bit of funding and some luck, you could see a high level face return to contribute many times what they were given.

The innkeeper was smiling and throwing her hands up in surrender by this point.

“Wait, how do you know I’ve got a magic Class?” Harold felt urged to ask.

The helpful Captain had already been walking up to him, with the Hexstone at the ready. When she touched him it shone with a much brighter green than its normally faded state. “If I wasn’t already sure then that confirms it. You better learn to control your Passives.” She winked.

When the trio got out of there, they’d written a deed, sold it, and shockingly walked off with 210 silver coins. Dunner had barely said a word. Harold remembered his father only bought the place for 160, and they’d sold off parts and managed to kill a lonely apple tree on the property since. He numbly mentioned this fact to Kalle, who was back in his usual form.

“Sure, but that was like 13 years ago. Call it inflation.”

Harold and Oscar nodded along, unsure of the word, but with knowing expressions. They were ready.

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