The Chronicles of Krarshe: The Hearts of Men, Volume 1

Krarshe coughed forcefully as the dust began to settle in the training room. After nearly a full lunar cycle and a half of these experiments, the training room was in shambles. No matter what was done to each spell, the results were the same. Whether somatic components were added, or the spell was altered in some way, it always caused aberrant lightning, and it had wreaked havoc on the stone walls; the one exception was with lightning spells, which behaved normally aside from its unusual intensity. Landry had instructed Krarshe to move the armor and other equipment into the hallway prior to beginning each day, but the room itself was not so fortunate.

“Okay,” coughed Landry from behind his barricade, now worn down and beginning to crumble, despite the attempts to dampen the lightning’s impact. “That will be enough for today. Please return the equipment to its spot.” He got up and dusted himself off.

Krarshe sighed and made his way across the uneven ground, spotted with holes and blackened stones. This had been the majority of his school experience: moving the heavy equipment out into the hallway, destroying the room with a few more steps than the previous day, and then moving the equipment back again. He hadn’t attended any lectures since that lightning spell demonstration, spending his time wandering Remonnet and seeing different parts of the city he’d never been to before. It had been fascinating seeing the farms outside of Stormbridge, as well as seeing some of the smithies in the industrial quarter. But, no matter where he went, his thoughts were with him, and they kept him from the classroom. He still went to the store in the afternoons, hoping to see that girl again more than because of the school’s mandate, but fate was not so kind.

Krarshe set down the final armor stand, clanging as it hit the floor. He stood up and arched his back for a minute. While not immensely heavy, they were still quite bulky and there were a lot of them. He brushed his hair to try and get the dirt and dust out of it as he said his goodbye to Professor Landry, who silently kept his focus on the book he regularly took notes in. Krarshe quickly but quietly made his way down the hall toward the school store, not wanting to draw attention from the classrooms still in session, particularly his own.

Upon his arrival, he greeted the senior student in charge of the store, who, similarly to Landry, didn’t respond and just sat in the back room with his nose in the book he had. Krarshe plopped himself down on a stool behind the counter and just laid his head on his crossed forearms.

His days were feeling longer than usual. Learning magic wasn’t proceeding as he’d first hoped. Maybe I should just leave, he thought to himself, scribbling on the counter with the dust on his finger. He couldn’t really learn much about the items in the store either, as every senior student appeared disinterested with explaining anything. He couldn’t even get them to explain what the prices were for the different products. He was expected to just sit there and watch the store.

As he sat there whittling away his time, he heard the door open. Krarshe turned to the back room to see if the supervising student had noticed, but it appeared he had not. Krarshe slowly pulled himself to his feet and walked out from the counter. He headed toward the front of the store, looking for the customer to see if there was something in particular they were looking for. As he turned the corner around the shelf of mage robes, he saw the shimmer of golden hair, his breath catching in his throat.

He had showed up to the store, day after day, hoping. But here, on this day, as he was questioning why he bothered to continue trekking all the way from Feyfaire, there she stood. Lycia. The braided strand of hair was once again tucked behind her pointed ear as she looked around the left wall of the store.

Krarshe hid himself behind the shelf and furiously rubbed his head, kicking dust into the air and all over the store’s goods. He patted himself down and turned the corner again to see she wasn’t there. He hurried down the rows of shelves before catching sight of her again, looking at some glass phials. Krarshe was about to approach her, but froze. He remembered he still had the same problem the first time she visited the store: he didn’t know anything about the store’s merchandise. He’d probably look like an idiot if he pathetically attempted to help her. Resigning himself to worthlessness, he decided to just return to the counter and keep an eye on her, in case she ever actually needed his meager assistance.

As she set down the phial, Krarshe noticed her peek in his direction out of the corner of her eye. She turned and went down another aisle of goods.

Krarshe stood behind the counter and perused the ledger on it, trying to make it look like he was doing something, anything, while being attentive to the customer. She wandered around the store, looking at each shelf. Occasionally, she’d stop and inspect an item more closely before setting it back upon the shelf. This went on for a considerable amount of time.

I feel like she’s been down every aisle now. What could she be looking for? Krarshe had seen her wandering endlessly. Does she need help?

As he paid closer attention, he noticed her peeking at him while holding a book. It was so subtle that he hadn’t realized it when he was feigning being busy. As she continued to wander, another trend became evident: all of the goods she would inspect were within vision of the counter. She never passed near the counter, even traversing a longer route to avoid it, but each spot she stopped was visible from where Krarshe stood.

... I have to be imagining things. Maybe she’s hoping I’ll come help her, he thought. He decided to just ask her, overcoming his fear of looking stupid.

He walked down an aisle and came up behind Lycia. She held a wand in her hand, but she wasn’t looking at it. Instead, she had completely turned her attention to the now vacant counter. Krarshe swallowed hard before saying, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

She jumped and spun around. Her golden blonde hair fluttered in front of Krarshe as she turned, shining with the light that shone in from the window. Her green eyes glistened, wide with surprise. He had to turn away slightly to keep his composure.

She shied away slightly. “Oh. Umm... I... Umm...... I was just...” she stuttered, looked up at him bashfully. Then, her bashfulness melted away, leaving behind a look of confusion. “W-what... happened to you?”

Krarshe wasn’t prepared for that question. Not in the least. “What... What do you mean?” he asked, feeling his cheeks and ears warm.

“You’re all dirty. Aren’t those uniforms normally black? And I feel the last time I saw you, your hair was blond,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, just... Well, you know... Training?” Krarshe said, unsure of himself. He laughed a bit, trying to dissolve the awkwardness, but it just made it more pronounced. After the longest moment of embarrassment Krarshe had ever endured, he decided escaping the topic was his only option. “Was... there anything I could help you with?”

“Huh?” The shock on Lycia’s fair face was clear as day. “Oh, umm...” She fumbled around, putting the wand back on the rack, nearly knocking the rest of them onto the floor. Krarshe watched as she clumsily attempted to stop the whole rack from clattering to the ground, amused and assured that he wasn’t the only awkward one in this conversation. After she managed to get the wands under control and back on the wall, she laughed slightly as her face flushed. She traced the braid behind her ear with her delicate hand, trying to give the air of composure. Krarshe was smiling plainly, but the tightness in his chest was bothering him. “S-sorry about that. I, uhh, was looking... for...” She looked around frantically before grabbing a spell scroll off the shelf behind Krarshe. “This!”

Krarshe raised an eyebrow. “Just that?”

Lycia nodded. “Yes.”

“Is that the right spell?”

“Uhh...” She opened it and looked at it quickly. “Yeah!”

Krarshe was much more comfortable not being the one on the back foot. Watching the golden-haired elf girl red as flame and flustered as he was a minute ago was very entertaining, though the tightness in his chest was just getting worse. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to tease her a bit. “Which spell is it?”

Lycia froze. Krarshe didn’t think it was possible, but her face reddened even more, spreading the rose color to her ears. She shakily opened the scroll and looked at it again. She mumbled something that Krarshe couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” he asked.

She stood there silent, just holding the scroll open in front of her face. After a moment, she closed it suddenly, crumpling the paper, and exclaimed, “I-i-it’s the right one, okay?! I’m sure!” Her green eyes stared straight at Krarshe, filled with anger, but her face just said she was embarrassed beyond belief.

Krarshe just smiled. He was enjoying the teasing, but he knew when it was enough. “Oh, that’s good. Because, honestly, I have no idea what spell that is... I can’t read spells yet.” The sudden change on Lycia’s face when she realized he was teasing her made Krarshe laugh.

“A- A- Y- Y- You...” Lycia stumbled with her words. Her anger and embarrassment wouldn’t let her formulate a sentence.

Krarshe was laughing so hard he began to cry. When he finally could control his breathing again, he said, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Lycia’s pouting face said she was still angry at him. “How about a discount? Since I was so rude to you.”

He saw her expression soften slightly. “... How big of a discount?” she asked before pouting again, though it seemed more forced now.

“Hmm...” Krarshe said as he led them back to the counter. “That’ll be forty silver roses.”

She raised an eyebrow. “This store really is inexpensive. Is that before or after the discount you promised me?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, leaving Lycia puzzled. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m not sure what that goes for. Don’t tell anyone.”

Lycia, still puzzled, just nodded slowly. “Okay... Well, I suppose I’ll forgive you. Just don’t get in trouble,” she said quietly, pulling out the rose-emblazoned silver coins.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Krarshe laughed. He took the coins she offered. “Thank you for your purchase,” he said with a wide merchant’s smile.

She bowed, and turned to leave, much to Krarshe’s disappointment. After a few steps, she stopped and turned to face him again. “Umm... M-my name’s... Ellycia. Though, ‘Lycia’ is fine.” She blushed as she said it, re-securing the braid behind her ear nervously.

Seeing her blush made Krarshe’s face redden as well. He averted his gaze and said, “M-my name’s Krarshe. Though, people call me all sorts of different things.”

She smiled shyly. “N-nice to meet you,” she said with a bow.

“L-likewise,” Krarshe responded, reciprocating the bow.

The two stood there quietly for a moment. “Well... I must get home. Goodbye, K-, Karsh-, Karshe?”

“Again, all kinds of things,” he laughed. “Safe journeys, Lycia.”

She bowed again, and hurried out of the store.

“Youth, huh?” came a voice from the back room.

Krarshe turned to see the long, still dusty mustache of Professor Landry. Exactly how wide his smile was was impossible to tell after it disappeared behind the mustache. Krarshe just blushed more.

“Don’t worry, Krarshe. I’m sure she’ll be back,” he said, turning back into the back room.

Krarshe turned back to face the entrance, still embarrassed. But even so, Landry didn’t seem like a bad person. Better than Owyn, at least. Perhaps he misjudged the teachers, letting his poor opinion of Owyn color his assessment. Krarshe turned his attention to the window. Lycia was nearly to the front gate by now. I hope he’s right...

The Easy Lute was busier than usual. The addition of Giselle to the live music drew a lot more people to the inn, though Krarshe wasn’t sure if this was due to her reputation around the district or simply because the pairing of her and Henry together was significantly better than Henry ever was alone. Unfortunately, some of the new customers were more rowdy than the regulars, as if Giselle attracted some of the worst people in Feyfaire, like the Wanderer to the warmth of a campfire. Generally, the staff seemed to be able to keep order, so the inn’s dining room was just more noisy without the brawling you’d see elsewhere.

Krarshe noticed one of the more burly, leather-clad customers trying to get touchy with Valerie, but she was not tolerating it. She smacked away his hand and scolded him, standing firm with one hand on her hip and the other waving a finger at him, though what exactly she said was drowned out in the noise of the inn. For all of her tempting, Krarshe had learned she was not one to play games. Her sexy appearance was a weapon, and she wielded it as a professional. Her seduction was a trap from which any ensnared man couldn’t escape.

A plate of bean curds and a half of a loaf of hard bread were placed on the table in front of Krarshe. “Thank you, Na’kika,” Krarshe said, turning to her. She smiled in reply. She had been his waitress every day for nearly a half-cycle. He wasn’t sure if it was coincidence or if it was the will of Valerie or Na’kika herself requesting it. He didn’t mind it, however. In fact, he kind of enjoyed talking to her. Seeing the joy such simple conversations gave her helped lift his spirits, especially since the incident in the training room.

Na’kika pointed to Krarshe and made a gesture, tracing her smile with the same finger she had pointed with. She then raised her hands questioningly.

“Yeah, I guess. Something good happened today, so that’s probably why I seem more cheerful.”

She waved behind her and pointed to him, then to a frown, and once again concluded with a questioning pose.

“I-” Krarshe stopped. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

She put her tray down on the table and sat in the other vacant chair at his table. She gestured for him to continue.

She was becoming very forward, Krarshe noticed. “Just... Something happened at the academy I attend. Something I did. And it seemed to frighten the friends I had. So I’ve been avoiding them since then. That’s probably why I’ve seemed bothered.”

Na’kika furrowed her brow, her orange, white-tipped ears pulled back. Krarshe didn’t need her to gesture, it was clear she was displeased with him. Despite that, she went on a voiceless tirade, her hands gesturing faster than he could keep up with.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I can’t understand you.”

She pointed at him, then tapped the side of her head. Then she turned her hand into a fist with the thumb out, pointed down, and shook her head disappointedly.

“I’m stupid?”

Na’kika nodded. She then gestured questioningly, pointed out the door, tapped the side of her head again and finished by pointing at him. Her head tilted inquisitively.

Krarshe tried to think of what she could be saying. After a few seconds, she started gesturing again. She pointed at him, and then recoiled in fear, her ears back. She then returned to her normal seated position and shook her head side to side.

“Oh. I mean, I’m sure they think that. I didn’t ask them directly, no, but the look on their faces-”

Na’kika put a hand up in front of Krarshe’s face, stopping his explanation, and shook her head again. She took his hand, clasping it with both hands, and looked straight into his eyes. Her amber-colored cat eyes locked on his brilliant blue eyes, more serious than he’d seen before. After a minute of their eyes locked on each other, she just shook her head side to side slowly. She then lowered his hand back to the table and gave him a big smile, her head tilted slightly in a reassuring gesture.

Krarshe, hesitating for a moment, eventually smiled back at her. “Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t assume their feelings, huh?”

She nodded, still smiling. She stood up and picked up her tray. Before leaving, she pat his head and left. Her tail was more active, indicating her mood than her casual step let on. Krarshe knew she was right, and that he needed to talk to Bri and Tibault directly. But it had been nearly a full cycle. Breaching this topic with them now would be a challenge.