Chapter 85 - Sibling Talk
By the time they left the shop selling drinkware, the sun had already begun its descent.
In the end, Dahlia had purchased the glass guinomi and a lipped bowl, while Volf had bought the tinware.
Considering the risk of the items breaking during transport in the carriage or amid the crowded streets, they requested delivery to the tower. They were told it would arrive by tomorrow evening, and the thought of using them filled them with anticipation.
"Shall we have dinner at a place near the harbor? There’s a spot my squad visits every now and then."
"Yes, please. I’ve rarely been near the harbor..."
"Alright, let’s go before it gets too crowded."
As dusk approached, the streets were coming alive with people finishing their day’s work. It would be wise to secure a spot before the crowds thickened.
They walked toward the harbor a little faster than they had earlier.
The bustling shopping district near the harbor was already glowing with lit lamps.
The streets, lined with brick restaurants and taverns, were teeming with people.
Some of the passersby were dressed in vibrant outfits, others in long foreign robes or patterned garments, adding an exotic flair to the scene.
The faint scent of the sea carried on the breeze was quickly overpowered by the aromas of alcohol, sizzling meat fat, and grilling seafood.
"This is the place. The name’s a bit unusual, though."
Volf stopped in front of a particularly distinctive establishment with black bricks and a black roof.
The large letters on the black wall read "Black Pot."
"It kind of looks like the whole building itself is a black pot."
"Exactly. Their goal is to make their customers so happy they melt like stew. Personally, I think they’re aiming for my wallet."
Inside, the restaurant was far more spacious than what one might have imagined from its entrance, with rows of round tables filling the room.
A counter stood in the back right corner, while there were stairs that led to the second floor on the left.
About half the seats were already occupied, with servers in black aprons darting between the tables.
From the second floor came lively voices, no doubt from patrons who were already well into their drinks.
Volf headed straight for the counter and addressed a man holding a bottle of liquor.
"Good evening. It’s been a while."
"Welcome... Wait, Volf, is that you?"
"Yeah. Got any rooms in the back?"
Sliding his fairy crystal glasses down his nose, Volf revealed his golden eyes to the man.
After confirming it was indeed Volf, the man set down the bottle and laughed.
"Nice glasses. Anyone else joining later?"
"No, just the two of us."
"Alright, take the second room on the right in the back. What about drinks?"
"White and red by the glass for now. We’ll order more with the food."
"Got it. I’ll bring them over. Head on in."
They were handed menus and, without being guided by a staff, the two of them made their way down the passage beside the counter.
Opening the half-height white door, they found a whitewood table and four matching chairs.
"That guy’s the assistant manager, a buddy from my squad. He retired last year when he got married."
"Retired?"
It was the first time she had heard of someone leaving the Monster Subjugation Force because of marriage.
She had always thought that knights typically continued their duties until they reached a considerable age.
"Our unit is popular among commoners, but not so much as a career in the royal castle."
"Is it because of the danger?"
Sitting across from him, Dahlia asked.
"Partly. Another big reason is the 'expeditions.' Being away from home unpredictably can be tough. Some request transfers or even quit after marriage. It’s so common they call it the 'five-year forty-percent drop.' Two out of ten leave within their first year, and four out of ten are gone by the fifth."
"That sounds quite tough."
"But there’s no such thing as an easy job, is there? No offense, but I used to think magical toolmakers just calmly enchant magic into items. I didn’t expect the kind of work where you end up worn, physically drained, or injured after being blown away."
"Well, incidents like that are rare... though magic depletion is pretty common."
It seemed she had given Volf the wrong impression about magical toolmakers.
Dahlia offered a vague reply that seemed like an excuse, while holding the menu.
"What’s the average age for magical toolmakers to retire?"
"There isn’t really a set age. As long as they can work, they’re active. Unless they switch professions, of course."
"I’m kind of envious. Our unit pays well, but even at my best, I’ll have to retire before fifty."
"You should save up and aim for a leisurely retirement."
"A leisurely retirement... Do you have any plans like that, Dahlia?”
"Let's see... maybe once my hair turns gray, I’d like to take on an apprentice. Of course, I’d have to become a proper magical toolmaker myself first."
It was something she had once talked about with Irma.
If possible, she wanted to pass on the techniques her father had taught her and those she had learned on her own.
Taking on an apprentice seemed the best way to do that.
"Have you ever thought about passing your craft on to your children or relatives?"
"Since I’m not planning to marry, that doesn’t seem likely. I don’t have many relatives either... Ideally, I’d like to adopt an apprentice and have them take on the Rossetti name."
Just as Dahlia finished speaking, a knock came at the door, and the assistant manager from earlier entered.
"White for Volf and red for your sister, right?"
"She’s not my sister, but yeah, that works."
The conversation was slightly off, but soon, a glass of white wine was placed in front of Volf, and red wine was set before Dahlia.
"Have you decided on the food yet? We’ve got a special today—steak and oxtail soup made with 'crimson cattle.' What do you think?"
"Oh, the red cheese one..."
"The cattle monster one..."
The crimson cattle was a monster they had discussed when they first dined in a restaurant together. While they had both tried its red cheese before, neither of them had expected its meat to already be on the market.
"I’ll go with that. How about you, Dahlia?"
"Yes, I’ll have the same."
"What drink pairs well with crimson cattle?"
"A light carbonated whiskey, cider, or medium-bodied red wine."
"Then I’ll go with the carbonated whiskey. How about you, Dahlia?"
"I’ll have cider, please."
She intentionally chose a different drink to try.
After ordering a few more dishes, the assistant manager briskly left the room.
"You being mistaken for my sister… Hearing it twice in one day is a bit strange."
"You as my older brother, Volf...?"
Volf's glasses featured an image resembling her father's eyes, which likely led to the association of them as siblings.
Of course, the resemblance came from the fairy crystal lenses, and their actual appearances were entirely different.
Even so, if they spend enjoyable times together, perhaps their atmosphere would start to resemble that of siblings.
She suddenly found herself thinking about the words of the drinkware shopkeeper.
"Huh, considering how much I rely on you, wouldn’t it make more sense the other way around?"
"But I’m younger than you, Volf."
"Mentally, though, you’re older."
She briefly felt a jolt as memories of her past life resurfaced.
Adding her past life to her current years, she had lived over forty years—indeed far longer than Volf.
"I don’t mean you’re mentally older. I just mean my own mind is probably stuck somewhere in my late teens."
"Understood. In that case, I’ll cancel the wine and get you some juice. Something really sweet."
"Spare me, please."
As they raised their glasses to toast for good luck from tomorrow, they sipped their wine and continued talking.
"Did you ever wish you had siblings, Dahlia?"
"Yes, as an only child, I always kind of admired the idea of having siblings to grow up with. We could do so many things together—build magical tools, share meals, stay up all night talking, and maybe even fight sometimes..."
"Except for the fighting, haven’t we already done all of that?"
"True, if I’d had an older brother like you when I was little, I think it would’ve been so much fun."
She pictured a younger Volf, playing in the workshop with her, sharing meals, pulling pranks, and getting scolded by her father.
The thought brought a smile to her face.
If they were truly siblings, no one would have anything to say about them being together. Gender, social status—none of it would matter.
As much as she wanted to remain his friend forever, she couldn’t ignore the differences between a noble and a commoner, nor the demands of their respective work. Someday, circumstances might make it impossible for them to stay by each other’s side.
And if she ever found herself foolish enough to develop feelings for Volf, it would spell the end. He would think of her as no different from the other women, distancing himself while being hurt.
That was something she could never allow to happen.
"...A sister like Dahlia... That might have made childhood fun."
Volf said with a chuckle, breaking her train of thought.
"Playing, making noise, studying a little, and boldly tackling magical tools and magic swords as siblings."
Volf spoke impulsively, but after exchanging a thoughtful look with Dahlia, they both broke into half-smiles together.
"I think that, even for us, that sounds dangerous."
"Yeah, I imagine it would’ve been a huge burden on the adults around us."
And with that, their sibling talk came to a close.
Comments
Post a Comment