Chapter 104

The common room of the outpost was the busiest it had been in over a year. Three separate teams of young Adventurers mingled by the bar — one of which was even made up of a group that had moved here. Molly worked the bar on her own, while Meredith was filling in for Mum in the kitchen at Aunt Agnes’ request.

Martin and Griselda sat in one corner along with the Kellins and Mum. The Kellins’ son was racing around the room with Molly’s daughter, who was of a similar age. The pair getting up to mischief that reminded me a lot of my own times with Etta. Seeing their amusement left me feeling bittersweet until my attention landed on my aunt. A few things had bothered me throughout the afternoon of testing, and I was yet to get any answers to them. I didn’t see a better time than now and wandered towards her, interrupting her chat with Gramps.

“The young man of the hour,” Agnes said in greeting. “A reasonable turnout for someone your age, and Cornelius was just saying that the Baron is likely to drop by to pass on his best wishes. Something about winning the Unclassed martial tournament at the Harvest festival against children four years older than you.”

My cheeks heated at the blatant flattery. For a moment, the questions that had nestled in my mind, ready to be thrown like spears at the woman, seemed oh so silly. I bit down on my cheek, the dull pain bringing my original intentions back into focus.

“Why do I keep wanting to agree with you?” I asked bluntly. “Are you using a Skill or Spell on me?”

Gramps opened his mouth as if to respond, only to close it when Agnes lifted a hand to forestall him. “It’s fine, Cornelius. I assume such things haven’t been part of his lessons out here. Who would you even have to teach them?”

She smiled politely as she spoke, as though she wasn’t looking down on the people of Hornpeak, even though her words said otherwise. Once again, the juxtaposition of what she said and how she said it left me feeling like I was being pulled in opposing directions.

“It’s not a Skill or a Spell, young man. Such things are frowned upon in polite society. A little influence is acceptable. Anything beyond that will see you vanish in the night to some cell likely to never be heard from again — and if you ever meet a Mind Mage that is not in chains, my dear boy — run. As for what you’re feeling, that is my Charm attribute. I will admit mine is a little stronger than most — but all it’s doing is subtly nudging you to view me and my words in a more favourable light. If I was to say something like your grandfather is in fact a gigantic spider… what would you think?”

“I’d think you were wrong,” I admitted immediately.

Agnes smiled, sipping wine from a metallic cup. “Precisely… so, can you see the weakness in my attribute?”

I didn’t need to think long on the question.

“If you say something I think is wrong, your Charm attribute doesn’t help at all?”

“Close enough. Charm makes you predisposed to listen to me and consider my words. But only so long as I phrase my thoughts and comport myself in a way that you are likely to view favourably. If I was abrasive or said something you wholly disagreed with, the effect is lessened or outrightly ignored,” Agnes explained with a kind smile as she watched my reaction.

Looking up at her and seeing blue eyes so like Mum’s and Gramps’ made me realise I was probably even more affected due to the sense of familiarity I had with the woman.

“Okay,” I grumbled. “Do lots of people in Helenica have Charm?”

“Amongst the higher echelons of society? Oh my, definitely. Enough to fund an industry that develops enchanted rings to help resist the effects. I’m even wearing one.”

She held out her hands, twisting a pale silver ring.

“Are they expensive?” I asked, reaching out to touch the ring. Surprisingly, she didn’t stop me.

“Depends on the quality. Believe me that this will be covered in your lessons over the next year. No nephew of mine will be walking about the capital without knowing how to correctly price all that he lays eyes upon. This one is made from platinum and it costs roughly five times its weight in materials alone. The actual conversion into something like aether coins would depend on the affinity of the coin — though with dungeon aether coins as standard this one is worth roughly three.”

I stored most of that information for later and focused on the single revelation that had caught my interest. “It’s platinum?”

“Obviously. The brightness of the metal should make that clear. Cornelius, what have you been teaching this boy?” Agnes replied, turning to round on Gramps.

“Does this town seem like one that sees a lot of platinum passing through, Agnes?” Gramps countered.

Agnes sniffed demurely in response and turned back towards me only to find me holding my enchanted ring in the palm of my hand. I had thought it was made from silver because… well… it looked like shiny silver to me. But the pale white sheen to the metal matched that of the ring on Agnes’s hand — more than one now that I bothered to really look.

Gramps snorted. “So, that’s how you were making those aether shields. Where did you get it?”

“From George,” I admitted. “He left it for me after… you know.”

Gramps nodded while Agnes looked thoughtful. “The aether shields weren’t from a Skill? Well, that is both disappointing and useful information to have. A Skill would’ve been cheaper than trying to learn the Spell. An enchantment is even more expensive, though at least that is one piece of protection I won’t need to buy for you once we reach the capital.”

I tucked the ring away and pushed on to the other question I had. “Aunt Agnes, before we told you about… you know… Gramps got you to make Meredith leave. But then, you told her anyway the moment she returned. Why make her leave at all if you were going to do that?”

“Why indeed? What do you think my reason was?” Agnes asked, turning the question back on me just like someone else had a tendency to do — my eyes flicking to Gramps for a moment.

I gave the question thought but came up blank so I just shook my head.

“People are easier to direct if you give them what they want, Bastian. By agreeing with your Grandfather and sending Meredith away, I got less pushback about Blake remaining. Then, it was a simple matter of including Meredith once more after we went outside. If I had pushed back immediately, it could’ve devolved into an argument.”

“So, you were manipulating us,” I said, levelling my accusation at my Aunt.

“Of course. Do you not do the same when you fight with your sword? Feints and parries all with the goal of moving your opponent into the position where you have the advantage? Social interactions are no different, my boy, and the capital is no place for someone who deludes themselves into believing otherwise. Manipulation is an art amongst the people you will be associating with. Nor, I will add, is it necessarily a bad thing. Did I manipulate you, both of you, yes. But were my intentions nefarious? Not at all. I merely moved us along the path of least resistance to arrive at the place we all wished to end at. Me, confident in what I would be investing in. You, able to appropriately demonstrate your capabilities. Cornelius, satisfied I understood the severity of the situation. Am I wrong?”

I stopped grinding my teeth as I was forced to admit that my grandaunt was right — even if I wasn’t happy with her methods.

“We’ll have more time to talk over the next month or so as we return to Helenica, Bastian. Perhaps save any more questions for our journey. After all, this is your last chance to bid any friends you have farewell,” Agnes suggested.

She waited for me to nod and leave before turning back to talk more with Gramps. The old codger shot me an apologetic look before he was once more engrossed with catching up with his sister. I couldn’t fault him for it. At his heart, Gramps was a family man, and he had warned me about what Agnes was like. Still, adapting to my new life in Helenica sounded like it wasn’t going to be easy.

I stopped by the bar on my way to Griselda to speak with Brin’s mum, Dorothy. Our chat was quick, with me letting her know where to send any mail from Brin to the Thistle and Thorn Auction House in Helenica. Dorothy agreed easily, though the letters from Brin had dried up over the last year, my once sparring partner growing too busy with her training at Clawcrest Academy.

Finally, I joined the group in the corner, approaching Griselda.

“I’m going to miss you,” I blurted out to the half-orc.

Martin stood, patting me on the shoulder, wishing me luck before moving away to join Mum and the Kellins.

“I will miss you too, little warrior,” Griselda replied. “But this is the way of the world. Sometimes we must part with the ones we have forged bonds with. When I left The People, there was much to rejoice over, but still, some I missed. Few, but some.”

“You’ll stay in Hornpeak then?” I asked.

“Of course. Martin is happy here, and there is little to threaten me on these mountains. We shall remain here for a long time I think. Perhaps the rest of our lives. So, if things do not work out in your big city to the west, you can always run back here to hide.”

“Thanks, Griselda. For everything,” I muttered, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around the powerfully muscled woman.

Her hands enfolded me easily. “I saw in you what was in me when I was young. A need to prove yourself. When you get to that big city, show them all what you are worth — crush them utterly.”

Behind me, I heard Mum cough loudly in response to Griselda’s words. As we broke apart from our embrace, I saw no apology on her face and tried to hide my smile as I turned to Mum.

The rest of the night was a blur. Baron Joss did make an appearance, congratulating me on moving to Helenica and my aspirations for Songleaf. The lesser noble was then dragged into a conversation with Aunt Agnes, who informed me after the Baron left that it never hurt to make connections. Even with a Baron so far removed from the capital.

The limited number of people present to see Mum and I off really drove home how the community had changed over the years. Hurin was dead and gone. The Pick-Pack kids that I had spent a summer with were learning their trades or, in Brin’s case, moved to Ajinport. George, Etta, and Kaylee were now separated from us by an ocean. Magatha… well, she had already been isolated, but now she was truly alone. Only the Kellins, along with Martin and Griselda, remained to say farewell from the original denizens of our small slice of the Horndales.

Then, even they were gone — the Kellins leaving with Frederick carrying their crying son away while he demanded to keep playing with Molly’s daughter. Griselda and Martin left not too soon after, an axe glittering on the half-orc's hip in case they encountered anything in the dark.

When I woke in the morning, my body felt drained, as though I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. I figured it was just nerves. All of my luggage, including the few remaining treasures from my stash, were already packed and loaded onto the carriage as I stood outside the outpost that I had called home for my entire life.

“You won’t be too far behind us right?” I asked the old codger.

“Four months at the worst, I promise,” Gramps replied. “I’ll get up and leave if they haven’t managed to send a new Factor by then.”

I looked away sadly, glancing at Aunt Agnes as she was doing some last minute checks with Thomas and Meredith. Gramps stood beside me, resting his hand on my shoulder and following my gaze.

“I know she’s a lot to take in, but your grandaunt means well. She’s trying to teach you in the only way she knows how. Mind her lessons, Bastian. Just remember, at the end of the day it’s your life. You can live however you want — just try not to break your mum’s heart.”

“So, no stealing?” I asked even though what I was really thinking about was Aunt Agnes’ suggestions for my future Affinity and Attributes.

“Try not to. Helenica will be different from Hornpeak. Just be careful and try to stay out of trouble.”

“I will, Gramps,” I said, giving him a hug.

Mum came over to say her own goodbye, and then she was ushering me onto the carriage. Gramps waved to us from the front of the outpost with Mum and I waving back through one of the open shutters as we bid farewell to Hornpeak and the life we had lived there.

Within moments, the town was behind us with only the rough road west to Drevorn remaining — and then from there, we would move on to Helenica. Adventure awaited, the feeling in my gut nothing like what I had expected.