Chapter 19 - One Week to Lillinberg (Night 4)

The Auf quickly settled into the group. She was surprisingly agile for her size, easily able to keep up despite her far shorter legs. Much like Sol, she was an eager conversationalist. The two of them chattered away throughout the journey with frequent interjections from Luna and the extremely occasional response from Clint.

“What’s Lillinberg like?” Sol chirped, still on the come-down from one of Marrie’s amusing anecdotes.

“Oh, Lillinberg?” A smile spread across her face, already nostalgic for her home. “It’s wonderful! Whatever you’ve heard, double it!” Her arms spread as wide as her smile, quantifying the immense love she had for it. “The people are warm and inviting, the architecture is beautiful and not to sound biased, but the cuisine is to die for! I’m sure you must’ve heard of Lillinberries, yes? Apparently they’re a delicacy elsewhere but they’re common there!”

“Lillinberries?” Sol practically drooled. They were indeed a delicacy, one even scarcely available to a prince like himself.

“That’s right! They grow on the bushes in the woods to the north every summer. We have a festival for picking them! Every year we’d gather them up and bake pies and make jams and all sorts! It really was the perfect place!” Her voice was far larger than usual, she spoke loudly to the point of straining slightly.

“That sounds amazing!” Sol gleamed with a similar enthusiasm, legs unconsciously speeding up out of a desire to reach such a promised land.

“Was?” Luna raised an eyebrow, catching what her brother did not.

“Ah, yes.” Marrie shrunk into herself. “There’s, um, been some trouble as of late.” She confessed, now earning Clint’s yellow stare on her. “The weather! It’s just terrible! Our fields are flooded and mud’s gotten everywhere! That’s why I was out this far, you see.” Her words poured out quicker as she went on. “Food is growing scarce, and I run an inn, so I thought I should venture out to pick a few extra fruits and I… Wound up out here.”

“Ahh… That explains it.” Luna hummed.

“Explains what?” Marrie asked.

“The strange behaviour of the local goblins. Of course there’s no adventurers to rob or fields to raid if Lillinberg is having such trouble with its harvests.” She surmised.

“Ah… Yes, I was wondering why we hadn’t seen many goblins of late.” The Auf added.

The conversation ended mundanely. But for some odd reason, Clint’s eyes didn’t leave her.

Marrie insisted on setting the fire that evening. She did it manually, sparking flint together onto dead leaves and wood shavings, eventually lighting a pyre of logs that Clint had collected for her. It was far slower but it created a much homelier flame than the magical ones Sol was able to spawn.

“Oh yeah, have you heard the song about Lillinberg?” Sol took a seat at the fireside, warming his hands eagerly. His fire was designed to burn, not to warm, so being able to get so pleasantly close to a flame was quite special for him.

“A song? There’s a few as I recall.” Marrie mused. “We have quite robust musical traditions.”

“Is ‘The Little Lady of Lillinberg’ familiar to you at all?”

“Ah!” Her ears twitched at the name, eyes widening. “Of course! I was there when it was written!”

“No way!” Sol lit up. Luna did too, looking for an excuse to poke her head out from another dreary spellbook.

“You’ve met our uncle Mercury?” Luna asked, enthused.

“I did! Quite a charmer as I recall.” Marrie smiled, ears flattening as she recalled a pleasant memory. Aufs had far more expressive ears than elves. They were less rigid and contained more muscles; It was a way to compensate for their small size, allowing them to direct their hearing and avoid predators more easily.

They perked up as another thought crossed her mind. “Ah, if he’s your uncle then you two must be…”

“Royalty?” Sol answered for her.

“Nobility.” She finished. Clearly Sol had answered wrong.

“Royalty?” Marrie yelped, ears jolting skyward. “Oh my, I’ve been conducting myself all wrong! Please forgive me! I was unaware Mr. Mercury held such status!”

“He doesn’t.” Luna sighed. “Regardless of how he acts…”

“We just call him uncle because he was a member of our father’s party.” Sol added.

“Then… Your father is…” Marrie all but fainted at the realisation she had been sharing the day with the king’s progeny.

“The king, ain’t he?” Clint asked. He did know the answer already, but he wanted to confirm it once more. He didn’t think highly of royalty, but it was still hard to believe the two were genuinely heirs to the throne.

“Yes, but please, do treat us like you would any other adventurers.” Sol patted the air, as if trying to push down all the excitement in the atmosphere.

“Okay, I shall try.” Marrie’s oratory was already shifting to be more formal. “I-I don’t mean to be rude, but now that camp has been made, could we perhaps discuss our meal plans for the evening?”

Aufs had big appetites and high metabolisms. Though she dared not admit it, Marrie had been unbearably hungry for a while. It was a wonder how she made it to the edge of starvation, given she struggled so much with an empty stomach.

“Ain’t got none.” Clint was blunt.

“Yeah, Clint gave you the last of our rations.” Sol rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Marrie gave the impression she would slit her own stomach to return the cracker-bread if she could.

“Don’t be.” Sol smiled. “We’ve got a plan to get more food anyway.”

“Do we? If it’s a repeat of last time, we’ll all starve before we reach Lillinberg.” Luna mumbled.

“I mean, you were the one who went overkill on the last dire deer.” Sol rolled his eyes.

“I know that!” Luna snapped, slender fingers daring to tear through the leather of the spellbook in her hands. “Why do you think I’m studying so hard? I’m going to find a new spell.”

“No need.” Clint waved a hand dismissively. “I got a new plan.”

Luna protested, Sol leaned in. Marrie… Was not paying attention.

“Did you say dire deer?” Her ears flickered toward Clint.

“Uh, yeah.” Luna said.

Marrie leapt to her feet, eyes sparkling. “I have the most wonderful recipe for dire deer! It’s a venison roulade! I haven’t made it in years! Please, if you can hunt one for me, I promise you, it’ll be a meal fit for the royalty that you are!” Her ears flitted in every direction, eagerly awaiting a response from one of the three around her.

The twins began to salivate. Even Clint was tempted by the idea. A venison roulade. A far finer dish than anything they had eaten in a long time. Months for the twins, having had no such luxury since their adventuring began. A lifetime for Clint, who had done nothing but make do his entire life.

More importantly than the promise of wonderful food. They simply could not imagine disappointing the woman before them, wide brown eyes shining so purely with enthusiasm.

“Alright.” Luna steeled herself, for Marrie, for the venison roulade, and though she wouldn’t admit it, for herself, she would put her faith in Clint. “What’s the plan?”

Current Party: Clint Morgans, Sol Dragoneart, Luna Dragoneart, Marrie Gauld


Bullets Remaining: 5