Ivory's Echoing Recall (2/2) [Intermission]

The city market of this kingdom is blissfully empty. The vendors are present but most of the customers are not. There are birds chittering on the higher vendors’ wood tops.

Ivory found this comfortable. He didn’t have to worry about bumping into anyone, not with Rook and Niko currently engaging him between them. “Is the celebration highly cherished here?” He smelled marinated meat, and knew Shepherd would’ve enjoyed herself here.

“It is,” Niko clicked her tongue. “What do you value most of all, Ivory?”

Ebony. Shepard. Myself, Ivory does not reply but the answers form in his heart regardless.

“I value my friends and kingdom the most,” Rook helpfully chimed in. “Don’t tell my mother. She might get angry. You haven’t been here long but when she’s cross, she’ll work hard behind the scenes to have a ‘Checkmate’ against you.” Rook lightly laughed. “That’s my mother alright. She does so much without asking for the input of others…”

“I value my friends the most.” Niko replied. “Although, my sister also fits into the mold. My parents are quite worthless, so I’m stuck teaching her how to survive and keeping myself happy. It’s a hard world.” Niko clicked her tongue. “You don’t have to answer us since you’re clearly shy, but cast aside your nervousness for this. We’re here.”

Ivory heard the two cease walking, and so he did too.

He can smell gun powder. The stench of freshly shined blades waft his nose. The scent of freshly made leather is calming to relax into. And then there was the woody earth-toned smell.

“The Queen cherishes her family the most,” Rook finally revealed, nudging Ivory forward with a hand on his back. “She ruled this kingdom for a long time by herself. Her husband vanished one day, and she took the reigns. She had a little prince, but also the help of her older sister to raise him.” Rook’s nostalgia climbed with every sentence.

Ivory poked at the blades on the table with his nails. The quality was good enough, but he wasn’t a fighter with sharp objects. Best for carving but cutting into people? Messy. This is why Ivory didn’t favor biting with his fangs. Calculating the best way to bite while embracing the other factors such as dodging, was an annoyance. “And then what?” Ivory was still listening.

“A sickness came and took her sister away.” Rook sounded wistful. “However, before her death, every year, they used to have a private party for another healthy year of the prince’s life. Usually, ending with some kind of impossible present,” Rook groaned. “What is a child to do with a toy shop for himself? Give the toys to the locals…”

Ivory pondered if Shepard or Ebony would like a wooden carved toy. What would they even like?

“I remember that,” Niko snickered. “I’d say the gifts made the prince well loved by the younger populace who could never afford it.”

Rook laughed quietly. “And so, the Queen tries to keep up the tradition, but the party is open to everyone. As long as they have good intentions anyway.” Rook leaned closer, Ivory could hear his breath. “Have you made a decision?”

Ivory tucked his hands into his sleeves. He could feel the lasered eyes of the weapons’ vendor staring. “I want the weapons with the stink of gunpowder.” He declared, knowing this decision is what tickled the fire in his heart.

Rook sputtered, Niko made a noise of awe.

“Do you have a good shot, Lad?” The vendor spoke carefully, an elder.

Ivory is reminded of the cautious Dulling he heard traveling around during the initial days of walking with Shepard. “Yes, Ma’am.”

In two minutes, Ivory is given a gun to hold comfortably in his arms. He can tell this was a test-run, the weapon itself was shabby but still useful. Ivory felt along the barrel and wood with his nails. It’s for the best he doesn’t hold this one for too long, the urge to scratch into it was high, Ivory wanted to carve.

Five minutes of walking later, and Ivory could smell the remnants of gunpowder in the air. A shooting range then?

“Shoot the can in the distance, and I’ll buy you their best gun,” Rook hoarsely challenged, still flabbergasted.

A can? Ivory frowned. A can doesn’t breathe. The difficulty of shooting something increases if it lacked the natural heartbreath and breath to locate it. Movement was loud and panic was a smell Ivory learned to recognize, especially after he fell into a lake once and Shepard jumped in seconds later to pull him from shallow waters. Ebony had been calm, but Shepard fretted the minute Ivory had sneezed.

“Alright.” Ivory lacked a time limit, so he can merely focus. “Give me a moment.”

And so, Ivory waited in silence, already having loaded the gun.

It’s quiet, but not too quiet.

“...I don’t think he can do it,” Rook sighed in a soft whisper.

“Let him try.” Niko clicked. “I’d kick someone to the curb if they gave me challenge and plainly said I couldn’t do it.”

The wind is harsh.

Ivory could hear Niko swear, trying to fix her messy hair, and Rook grumbled from the sand-dirt flying in the air.

And yet, over the wind, Ivory can hear the whistling of the metal cans in the distance. The cans were hollow and open for song.

Ivory turned, he hadn’t realized he was facing the wrong direction. Then, he leveled the gun in the same direction as the cans, shifted the angle to where a bullet should fly, and fired.

The sharp twang of the metal receiving a dent echoed in Ivory’s ears.

Ivory smiled, laid the gun in a natural rest, and allowed his smile to blossom into a smirk.

“And how was that?”

Two hands grasped his own, and Ivory nearly headbutted Rook for his troubles. Ivory stopped himself because this was the same Dulling who promised to buy him a better gun.

“I can see talent when I see it!” Rook sang him praises. “Would you consider living in this kingdom? You’d be an amazing fighter! We receive unsavory people all the time, I’d feel better if someone like you guarded the streets!”

Ivory found himself blinking, hands still captive.

“Are you seriously recruiting a random sharp shooter you just met today,” Niko cut in, but there was far less bite than Ivory was used to hearing her use. “Ivory is likely just here to visit. Don’t crowd him with your ideas, Rook.” Niko ribbed him, the sound of Rook choking is loud enough to be amusing.

“It is not my fault when I see capable people, especially around my age, to be excited.” Rook wheezed. “Like you, Niko, you’re good at following your instincts, even if you’re a little rash,”

Ivory winced as he heard Niko knock Rook to the side and out of holding Ivory’s hands.

“You have people to be with, right?” Niko asked him, direct and casual.

Ivory nodded, feeling the ears under his hood itching with pride.

“Then how about you hang with us until we find them? As a token for entertaining Rook here.”

Rook perked up with a laugh. “See, Niko? Instincts! I would love to spend more time with Ivory until he has to go–Or I do. I’m certain I’ll be called back in an hour or so…But until then, Ivory, you may join us! How about we teach you the best of these streets?”

Niko sighed, Ivory can tell Rook deliberately ignored her.

“I still want my gun.” Ivory walked forward, allowing a nod of agreement.

“I see where your priorities lie,” Rook exhaled heavily. “I always did hear the best geniuses have a bit of madness to them.” He lamented.

“Like you?” Niko snorted.

“Rude. Right, Ivory?” Rook huffed and puffed.

“You brought it up, so I agree with Niko.” Ivory supposed he could trail after these Dullings until Shepard or Ebony decided it was time to leave. He can hold his own here, especially with a new weapon.

“Two cruel allies in my group. How unfortunate,” Rook breathed out. “I suppose I can at least treat you two to lunch…”

“My gun.” Ivory stressed.

“I want my favorite sandwich.” Niko simply told in a firm no-nonsense voice.

“Demanding too,” Rook mused with a glint to his eye. “Alright you two, let’s make the first stop to the weapon’s vendor...”

Yes, this was alright for the time being. Ivory will be a ‘Dulling’ for some hours.

And by then, maybe Shepard will understand he doesn’t need to be placed on the sidelines.