Finding Asuseni at the café doesn’t surprise me in the least. She stays all day, enjoying various treats throughout the day, but her eyes are mostly on me as usual. I don’t really understand why she takes the time to stare at me so much each day. 

Is she really so bored? Don’t ladies have other more interesting things to do? Why is she even here?

On the upside, Ela’s somewhat glum expression, having been turned upside down by my petting and scratching, she now sparkles. Seeing her like this makes me feel better about my own situation. 

Have I managed to sparkle as much as she? I’ll try even if I fail. 

Our work as ‘vivacious’ maids fills our day. Even if I did manage to shine a bit in anyone’s eyes, I think that Ela would outshine me any day. After all, I’m just a shy Japanese guy on the inside.

As the day passes, with greater liveliness, Ela continues to greet all of our customers, displaying all of Kairi’s grace and cheer as though she could channel her spirit. She opens her heart to the customers, taking each step without showing any sign of that troubled, quailing heart of hers.

Although Asuseni chooses not to stir any trouble today with her magick tricks, she still verbally flays me, and me alone among all the staff. She’s a handful, really.

I think she regards me as her personal maid, regardless of what Bryant told her, denying her request to hire me on a more permanent basis, in essence to buy me as though I was a slave. That fact still pisses me off.

People aren’t slaves… unless you live in a medieval world, I guess. 

As time passes, she calls me for any niggling, small thing she wants. Despite her focus on me, starting with Ela stepping forth and then Saria, they approach ‘her ladyship’ to try to chip in and divert her attention from me, eyes that have been almost exclusively fixed on me. Given that she wants nothing from anyone else, she rebuffs their attempts, but still engages them in conversation, saying that she doesn’t need anything until I come close enough.

They try to play her game by taking moments to speak with her, but soon they find themselves overshadowed by Asuseni’s conversational skills. It probably has to do with her overbearing nature. Her words are fueled by her boundless pomposity, but nonetheless her goodwill towards the other maids comes across. All the while, her behavior and demeanor annoys other customers as they take notice of her violet eyes. They flinch and frown when they lose minor staring contests. Not being used to nobles, we all seem to be of the same mind — that Asuseni needs to be taken down a few notches, but how? What can you say to a lady when you’re just a hired maid in a café? I doubt that villagers can do anything more. That’s exactly right, you do nothing — if you’re wise.

“I’ll have the tupka stew with wine,” a woman says to me that’s come into the café alone.

“Yes, mistress.” I smile, curtseying. She has a bit of a plain-look about her face and clothes as most do at Haldor's Stand, but despite the fact that she’s over the hump, probably into her forties, she’s fairly attractive.  “The tupka stew with wine. Wonderful choice!” I thumb my lips thoughtfully and smile. “If I ever make enough to eat here casually myself, I’d probably order the same.”

The customer grins at me, knowingly. “I’m looking forward to my supper, Hana. Hm… by the way, You look… rather lit today.”

“Lit?” I blink.

She smirks and lifts her glass of water, taking a sip, saying nothing further, so I briskly excuse myself to the warm kitchen, where Bryant works alone. He stands at the stove, shuffling around some iron cast pans, using big wooden spoons to stir some. Upon hearing me enter, he looks at me expectantly, setting down the spoon and knuckling the small of his back as he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow.

I take a crack at verbally delivering the memorized order, not that this customer’s order was overly complicated,  “Table twelve will have a tupka stew with wine. I think she meant the seasonal stuff. I’ll get her drink while you prepare the food.”

Bryant nods and turning to his stove, prepares another iron pot from the pile of them waiting to be used. 

Turning to the liquor stand, I gather a wine glass and pull down an open bottle of the fine seasonal wine from the rack. It smells faintly of what reminds me of cloves and other assorted fruity notes that I can’t recognize. Pouring out the red fluid, it sloshes to fill the delicate glass I hold, filling the air around with its lovely bouquet. It’s a strong and heady smell that sets your stomach long for bites of tupka stew. Lifting the glass and corking the wine bottle, replacing it to its place on the rack, I walk to Bryant and ask him thoughtfully over his shoulder, “Is this made with bristleberries?”.

“Ah, yes, the seasonal stuff’s a blend of bristleberries and greps along with some assorted proprietary herbs,” the chef and proprietor of his café replies as he throws ingredients into a pan as the odors of cooking aromatics start to overpower the scent of the wine. These mouthwatering vegetables and herbs would become the base of his tupka stew. The mouthwatering perfume that rises from the sizzling pan with a bit of smoke makes my stomach growl ravenously. 

When I have enough money, I really have to sit down on the veranda like Asuseni does most days. It’s about time I tried some of this good food. His trademark dishes are truly drool-worthy. Every time I take a bowl or plate of something or other to a customer, the odors and the look of their ordered food teases me, always tempting me to feast.

Leaving the kitchen with my customer’s glass of wine in hand, I carry it to table twelve, finding that the woman still sits alone. I almost suspected that a husband or a boyfriend would show up. When I quietly walk up to her, I gently deposit her glass of fragrant wine on the table before her.

 “I hope the wine I brought you is satisfying.” I can’t help feeling a bit envious of her for the wine, but none of how I feel touches my tone or face.

Sniffing at her wine, the customer nods in response with a smile, enraptured. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Hana. This lovely fragrance. Bryant’s blend is truly miraculous!” She takes a sip right away, rolling the fluid through her mouth for a long moment.

Nodding in satisfaction over her apparent contentment, I turn to another table to take another order and freeze on the spot.

He’s sitting alone at a table. 

The tough nut. Carl, my would-be rapist.

Seeing Ela moving towards his table, I cut in with my heart thudding in my chest. I can’t let the currently shining Ela attract his attention. I can’t permit her to get hurt. I greet him as though nothing happened, “Welcome back, master! How can I serve you? Would you like a nice bowl of tupka stew today?”

Ela blinks at being cut off, but shrugs and smiles wandering off.

“Didn’t think to see you again, Hana. I’m pleased that you're doing well,” Carl says.

“And I, you. Is your head feeling better, master?”

Carl’s eyes glitter with anger and his smile fades. After a moment he ressureacts that same smile. “I’m doin’ alright. Ain't nothing the local hedge mage can’t cure.”

Nodding my head, I change the subject from his recent injuries, “Do you have in mind the food and drink you might want to order?”

“All business, I ‘spose,” he nods, remarking. “A veal cutlet with tamta soup and a big flask of the seasonal wine that gal over there ordered. Smells good enough to savor.”

All pretenses at being ‘saintly’ are done away with just like that, I see.

Some time later, I leave the kitchen, bringing out the hard nut his order. With his order satisfied, I otherwise ignore him for the rest of the night, glad that he doesn’t signal for another maid to serve him, asking for a refill. I’m relieved to find that he’s happy to instead nurse the flask he ordered all evening. 

Eyeing him now and again but mostly keeping my attention and thoughts on my job, given the look of him and how he glances my way, I’m certain that he intends more mischief later, but knowing that this time I’ll have Ela at my side, I think I’ll be fine — at least one of us can run for help if things go poorly on our way home. 

I’d ask Bret to come along if I could, but I’d have to head home ahead of time just to ask him to come back to escort us. That, of course, wouldn’t serve any purpose. Being stuck in a world without telephones can be pretty shitty.

Before my shift ends, I approach the café’s owner and chef, pulling on his sleeve while he’s cleaning up. “Bryant, I need a favor.”

The tired-looking, but cheerful man turns towards me and offers a smile. “What can I do for you, Flower?”

What? I blink in startlement. Does he know what the word ‘Hana’ means? How? Probably just a coincidence.

“Ah…” I laugh it off. “There’s a strange fellow in the dining area that’s been here before.” I gesture in his general direction. “I recognize him. He’s been here all night, keeping an eye on me much of the evening. I suspect that he intends more mischief tonight when I head home. Bryant, could I trouble you to walk myself and Ela home tonight to deter any trouble he might give us?”

He blinks uncertainly, thinking. “How are you so sure he means you harm?”

“I’m very sure of it.” I take a deep breath and smile. “I don’t really want to go into the details about why I know. Will you please escort Ela and myself home to see us get there safely?”

Since I’m too weak to handle him in the event that he has the courage to do something despite my going home with another girl, he’ll be fueled by wine. It feels too certain that he’ll pull something again, and thinking that Vayne is skulking around every night in town, particularly to save my hide again… relying on that would be a mistake.

“If you agree, to help, I suggest that you come armed.”

Bryant rubs at his thin beard and thinks for a moment, shaking his head and responds, “...I’m not a fighting man, Flower, but if you feel that your life is in danger, of course I’ll look after you two.” Bryant nods, clenching a fist. “I’ll bring my best barrel stave along. Sounds good?”

“What’s this about, now?” Brenna exclaims, bursting into the kitchen from the dining area. “Why are you bothering good Bryant with this nonsense?”

“Quiet, girl.” Bryant says quickly. “I take all of your lives seriously, new waitresses or not. I think this fellow of Hana’s won’t bother with me standing at her side.”

“Keeping a big crowd around would help even more,” Saria says from behind Brenna, stepping around her.

“Are you serious, you idiot?” Brenna yells, shooting a glare at Saria. She flinches for a moment as Brenna points out the door. “Right now Saria, do as I say, go home!”

Saria visibly mustered the courage and planted her feet, shaking her head, sending her twintails flinging through the air. “...I refuse.” Saria purses her lips, pouting.

“What?” Brenna blinks, shocked. “You… If Hana isn’t exaggerating as I suspect, this could be dangerous! Just go home! I’ll go along with you.”

“No.” Saria pursed her lips, the line of her spine stiff, her face now stubborn.

“Idiot!” Brenna grabs a handful of Saria’s dress and Bryant cuts in with a firm arm.

“We’ll all go together. This guy Hana’s mentioning won’t do anything with a big crowd as little Saria said. Things go south, you girls can run and I’ll occupy the fellow and I’ll testify against him. He’ll be arrested for attempted molestation.”

Brenna huffs and crosses her arms beneath her breasts. “Alright,” she says skeptically.

Bryant and his maids walk from the café together with myself and Ela in the lead. Asuseni watches us leaving the café together. Her eyes glint with a speculative quality. She narrows her seemingly glowing purple eyes.

Together we exit the plaza to the north, walking through the thinning but still dense enough crowd here. With supportive friends around me, I feel liberated. 

Ela looks at me with a frowning expression. “Is that guy really coming after you again?”

“Maybe,” I say, hoping not. “...Any time he comes for a meal, looking like that, particularly now that he’s full of wine… Erm… I’ll feel more secure with everyone here around me.”

“You sound too certain that something will happen,” Saria says anxiously. She fiddles with one of her twintails, looking somewhat regretful. Brenna eyes her with a rolling of her eyes. She exhales heavily, blowing up a lock of her hair.

Looking at me, Brenna grumbles, saying, “She’s just preening for our attention. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. She’ll feel oh so sorry for wasting our time once we’ve seen her to her doorstep. Such a baby, really.”

I look at Brenna with twisted lips.

“I doubt that she’s lyin’ to us, girls.” Brenna looks at Bryant in surprise. “Yes.” He nods at her. “I very much doubt it,” Bryant says as we pass a corner on our way towards Bret’s home.

Ahead of us, with no one else in sight, three men step out, two in shining armor and another in dark iron. They draw their swords with soft scraping noises halfway, the bared steel and iron glinting dully in what little moonlight there is. My eyes widen and I cast my eyes behind us, seeing that tough nut Carl is there standing with another man in dark iron and another in fur-lined armor like Carl, all looking seasoned.

Shit. They’re the ones from that first night. His apparent ‘friends.’ From how they spoke, I never thought they would be party to…

“Looks like we got a party going here, except for one,” Carl says with a smirk, echoing my thoughts in a dreadful way.

The rest of the armed men laugh to either side at Carl’s quip.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Bryant asks, hefting his stave. “This is unlawful behavior. Leave these girls be.”

Carl stopped for a moment and laughed derisively. “...Wouldn’t have involved you all if it weren’t for your meddling, Bryant.” Carl draws his own sword and points it right at me. “And your death will be on her head now. Ain’t no one will believe the word of four young girls over us licensed adventurers. You, though, got some credibility.”

The rest of the men draw their weapons, making hissing noises as they all scrape out. An eagle flying above screams loudly.

“So be it.” Bryant charges at Carl with a yell, his barrel stave held high above his head in both hands. When Carl clumsily swipes his sword, Bryant brings his stave firmly down onto the tough nut’s head. The man at his side promptly stabs his sword through Bryant’s gut while Carl nurses a bloody wound that Bryant opened on his scalp as he staggers. Blood runs down the side of his head as he glowers at Bryant.

“I shouldn’t have drank tonight, after all, eh? Good thing you ain’t got any skill.”

Drawing a fist back, he leans forward and slugs Bryant dead in the center of his face, breaking his nose. Blood flows as he collapses into the road beneath us in a cloud of dust.

SHIT! DAMN IT!

Eyeing the stave that Bryant was using I move towards it, but Carl laughs and kicks it away with a clunking noise as it disappears in the darkness.

“Ya girls are fucked.” Another man laughs.

MY FAULT! DAMN IT!

Watching Carl’s face as he approaches me menacingly with a sinking heart, I quiver, wishing I had a sword with me. 

Please goddess! Give me a sword!

Something that shines in the faint moonlight flies over Carl’s head as he reaches out for my bodice to tear it away. The flying object lands pointed down by my feet. It’s a keen-edged stiletto-style blade with a black decorated hilt with a lovely flower on it, matching something I’ve seen somewhere.

Where did this come from?! Goddess?!

But, unquestioning my good fortune, I draw the sword from the dirt in front of me and stand in Alvera’s eyes, the first of the two postures I learned from Jak.

My core goes rigid and I hold the blade with a relaxed arm as I rush to Carl and ducking under his clumsily swung sword, I bring my sword upwards.

“Heaven’s parting!” I scream as I sever his sword arm from his body. Blood flies everywhere and he looks at me with horror, sinking to his knees. Meanwhile, the couple next to him quickly reassess me and drop into guarded stances. They’ll wait.

Spinning on a boot’s heel, I launch myself past Ela, staring at me in shock with the other girls. What? I’m just using learner’s dances.

Charging at the three guarded men on that side, I raise the sword and slash the air in front of me the way Jak taught me. 

Daisies bow in a breeze. The point of the blade sways in a misgiving way that confuses the eye. When I step in, the move turns into a series of horizontal slashes that the men struggle to parry. My sword jolts in my grip as the blade makes contact with theirs and sparks fly from the blade I hold, flying around us, momentarily illuminating their faces filled with worry and concentration.

The river washes away. 

Sinking down and spinning, I smoothly cut through the knee joint of one of the men in bright steel to cut through his tendons. He drops to his other uninjured knee, screaming. Seeing the other two coming at me with their swords raised, I stand and begin weaving and spinning into a tornado weaving dance. My sword slices and slashes at them in a series of feints and blocks. Grudgingly, they give ground and the gravel under their boots crunches as I press them backwards.

Put them off balance. PHarry them and hit hard.

Now!

I pant and work to reach their arms, slipping into water flows around the boulder. 

My blade abruptly changes its angles and slides around their swords, raised to defend while glancingly blocking their attacks, using a series of angled strokes. When a weakness presents itself, I draw my sword along the man that falters first sever the arteries in it. Repeating this trick over and over, the men wince and exclaim, furiously focusing on my movements as my blade continues to find the chinks in their armor, slash after slash. One finally drops his sword and I use earth crashing from the skies, bringing my sword down onto his uncovered head, splitting his head open. Blood splatters with gobbets of meat that I don’t want to try to identify at the moment. I’d probably vomit. Even so in the back of my mind, I know.

As I intercept the other’s blade, I use flame’s embrace, sliding along his sword, just like Vayne did in the cavern where I was held prisoner by the goblins. I didn’t know the name of this attack then, but now I have a name for it. Sparks fly and I throw my weight against them, compromising their grip with a twist of my sword and slice it forcefully along their side. Turning, I finish with cresting wave of heavy snow, sinking the stiletto deeply into the body of the last of the three on this side.

The girls scream behind me and Ela dashes to stand between myself and the remaining men, on the side where the tough nut Carl clutches at his arm, screaming. One of the men is tourniqueting it with torn cloth. I run past Brenna and Saria fleeing past me in fright. Their tear-filled eyes look at me in horror, eyes that shame me. Ela grapples with one of these men. I notice that he has an arm around her. My anger flares up inside at the sight.

“Eeeeeeeeeeee!” Ela neighs and kicks, jerking.

Carl, looking up at me screams with bloodlust in his face yells,  “Kill them both! Get her for Jed, Geral and Boz. Fuck them for my lost hand!”

Those were their names? I see. I sigh, letting go of my anger as I shift into birds dancing on the lake, standing up on the balls of my feet, balancing.

This posture is faster than when you stand in the eyes of Alvera, but risky.

Maintaining your defense becomes harder and your balance is harder to maintain. Take care which dances you use with this posture.

I sprint across to the man holding Ela, but he puts his sword’s edge to Ela’s throat and grins at me challengingly.

Shit. Make a move and she dies. I get it.

I drop the stiletto, putting my hands up, dropping down onto my heels.

“I understand.” I murmur. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I’ll personally slice her throat myself now that I know we got the one that means most to you, bitch!”

…

“...You can’t both fuck me and kill her at the same time, certainly not in your condition.” I say with a scowl.

“Good point. Might be a mite hard to hold onto you.” He holds the stump of his missing hand around the makeshift field dressing. “But these two’ll hold onto you both for me.” Pushing himself onto his feet, Carl unbuckles his belt with one hand.

He’s still in the mood, short a hand?

“Will they?” I ask calmly.

Carl blinks, looking me in the eye with a pissed off look. “You want it now? You sure look needy. Hahaha… Alright.” He saunters forward, certain that I won’t fight him.

He looks like an idiot, strutting with blood dripping from his stump of an arm around that crude cloth bound around it. He’s probably got hardly anything left to do the dirty job, anyway, not that he’s thinking. Probably still drunk. Besides, I’m not alone. 

I look down at the stiletto on the ground with a smile and at that moment, the two men behind tough nut Carl scream together. The one holding Ela’s arm twitches wildly, his sword flying away in a jerky motion. The flailing of his arm sends Ela flying away in the opposite direction, his body convulsing with electricity arcing across his body, very visible in the darkness. His whole body is illuminated.

 Carl looks over his shoulder with a terror-stricken expression, his jaw dropping. “M…”

“Your unsightly visages grate. Be gone before my goodwill is expended.”  Asuseni kicks Carl between his legs from behind and he crumples forward on his face in the dirt. Her hands lightly holding the two swordsmen on either side, she still pumps electricity through them into the ground via her magic. Her purple eyes glint darkly, almost as visible as her spells. 

“Your swordplay is beyond pathetic, Hana.” Moving her hands off their armored shoulders, she chants and conflagrations of fire form in the air in the palm of each to engulf the two swordsmen.

Dry washing her hands, she holds one of them out towards me with a smile. “Return my blade immediately, as you are unworthy of wielding Lapvian steel.”

Her superior act aside, thanks to her, Ela is safe.

I bend, feeling sore, pick up her sword from the blood-caked dust and extend it to Asuseni with one arm, holding it by the blade. “Thank you.”

Her eyes widen as she takes her sword back. “My sword hasn't drunk so much blood in months… ” She touches her lips with her free hand and smiles. “Saving my dearest maid proved worthwhile after all.”

With a mutter, she casts a spell and the sword shines and water forms on the blade, washing it clean of bloody mud. Shaking the remnants off, she sheathes the stiletto in the base of her parasol.

 I freaking need to learn some magic like that… but my sword training isn’t finished… it just started. Maybe if I asked her… I shake my head.

Ela comes to her feet with a soft whinny, taking my arm. “Y-you’re covered in blood, Hana.” She takes in the visage of my ruined dress at close range, not that much can be seen of it in this light.

“I’ll have to pay for a replacement dress maybe, but… Bryant!” While I'm rushing to his side, crouching in the dirt, Bryant groans when I touch him, helping him sit up. He looks at me with nearly glazed eyes, clutching his bloody gut. One of his eyes has a dark ring around it and his nose is broken, crooked with dried blood smearing his mouth and chin.

After a moment, he takes a deep breath and asks, “Shit… if you could fight like that from the start, why’d you even need me, Flower? Why the hell? Argh… Hurts like shit.”

Looking at Asuseni, I mutely appeal. She looks away with a pissed off expression.

“You require my services?” She raises her eyebrow.

“I don’t know magick like you, Asuseni… your ladyship. Please heal him.”

“...”

I feel tears welling up in my eyes and exclaim,  “Please. Please heal him. It was my fault that he was so hurt. That he’s… all because I was afraid to go alone. I feel that no matter what I do, however I try, I’ll never be anything but terribly weak.”

Ela throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. She looks at Asuseni herself, and begs softly, “Please, your ladyship. Please help Hana. Help Bryant. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met… I beg you.”

“You convinced me long before now.” Asuseni rolls her luminous purple eyes, running fingers through her luxurious straight black hair. “Very well, maids.”

She clenches a fist and a strong purple energy surrounds her hand. She thrusts it into Bryant’s stomach.

He moans loudly and twitches as Asuseni’s spell works its magick on him.

“Be more careful in the future, Hana. There won’t always arrive timely help.”