Smoke, iron and thorns

No one had slept well the night before and the flask sat on the table between them, reminding them of what they had to do. Ren kept dragging his thumb along the dent, stopping where the dry blood picked into flakes. Hibiki grimaced. “Stop playing with it; it’s gross.” He stared at the ceiling, trying to look away from Ren and his fixation on the flask. Alice sat with her knees tucked against her chest as usual, with her face in her arms, staring at the bloom from her pear that refused to rot. Miyako stood, lacing her boots and looking around.

“Right, we don’t walk into this with just sticks and shoddy ‘powers’,” she said loudly, trying to motivate them to get up. “We check out gear, make sure we practise with it, and then we go.” Hibiki grimaced, but he didn’t argue. “About time,” he muttered. “I’m sick of swatting rats and thugs with scrap.”

Ren tied the coin pouch to the inside of his belt where it wouldn’t be seen or snatched. Thirty-five silver sounded like a fortune yesterday; today it felt like it would never be enough to support their survival. He tucked the note with the address behind the flask and slid both into his pack. “We keep eyes open,” he said to the group with a tone of authority. “No wandering. No splitting unless we have to.” “Agreed,” Miyako replied. She waited by the door. “If you can keep your hood up, do it. Keep your faces plain.” They had all grouped up behind her, ready to leave.

They went down into a still waking city. The early morning ale had barely passed the lips of the more committed drunks. The stall owners were busy setting up, splitting crates open with produce on display, and putting all sorts of weapons and tools on cloth to catch the first buyers. The many different sellers were already wide awake with no sign of fatigue in their eyes. They stuck close to each other, scanning the stalls until they found something for their needs.

The first merchant they spotted was a narrow man with a rough beard and wide, almost crazy-looking eyes. Blades lay on his table with edges like teeth. He looked the four over once, twice, and stopped on the coin pouch tied to Ren’s belt as if with a sixth sense. “Your eyes lingered, young’uns. I take it you need supplies?” Miyako didn’t smile. “Keen sense, we do. I think we’ll need protection, blades, ranged weapons, maybe even traps and—" “Something loud,” Hibiki cut in.

The merchant’s eyebrows climbed. “Loud?” “Smoke, if you have it,” Miyako amended. “Balls, sticks – it doesn’t matter. It needs to hide and choke, not burn us alive.” The man tapped the table with one finger, thinking about the order. “I can sort most of that but it’ll cost ya.”

He nodded and reached under the table, dragging out two leather jerkins and two vests—brown, stitched clean, with metal studs set close at the ribs and shoulders. Not pretty. Reliable. “Medium weight. Take your pick. Coin first.” Ren loosened the pouch for show, keeping the strap twisted around his wrist. He slid three silver across without blinking. The man’s mouth twitched; he knew he could have asked for four but there was plenty more left to be had from these kids.

While Miyako and Ren tested the fit—the leather stiff and smoke infused—Alice hovered at the edge of the table, eyes caught by a small one-handed crossbow resting on a rack near the man's arm. It was a compact mahogany piece with iron fittings and leather on the side. It looked manageable. It looked like something that wouldn’t require her to step close.

She didn’t speak but just stared at the reddish-brown wood on the handle. The merchant noticed. “Not a toy,” he said sternly. “It’ll destroy most leather and has a bit of a kick, but it should be easy as long as ya careful.” He lifted it down and offered it to her. “Here, give it a hold.”

Alice took it with both hands. It was heavier than it looked but with practice she could use it with one hand. She meekly spoke up, turning it around and being careful. “How much?” He replied quickly with a smile. “For you I’ll do five silver for the weapon, with a quiver and twenty-five bolts for 1 silver and 50 copper.” “6 silver and 50 copper all together.” Hibiki whistled between his teeth. “That’s a good chunk.”

Miyako glanced at Ren and he nodded. “We take it,” she said to the seller, looking at Alice and smiling kindly. “If it’ll make you feel better being at range, that’s fine.” The man’s brows lifted again; his day was improving with multiple sales from these kids alone. He set down a quiver, the bolts in neat fives bound with string, and a small pouch of grease. “Don’t dry-fire it. That’s firing with no bolt loaded. Draw slowly; be prepared for the recoil and of course, don’t point it at your friends.”

Alice swallowed and nodded, looking up at Miyako's smile, appreciating the support. Ren’s hand fell to a straight sword lying parallel to the table edge. Its guard was plain, a thin cross, the blade a bit longer than his forearm. It wasn’t refined or special but it didn’t need to be. He lifted it, tested the balance, and felt something settle in his wrist. No fear, no weight tugging at his body—just simplicity. “Price?”

“3 silver with a scabbard,” the merchant replied, balancing his tone between fair and opportunistic. Ren paid without haggling. He didn’t want to play games with time today. The man slid over a scabbard with two loops and, without asking, a narrow steel gauntlet sized for the left hand—small plates over a leather glove with a cuff on the wrist. “I’ll do this for two silver,” he added. “You look like you’ll need the hand that isn’t holding the blade.”

He took some time to think, then nodded. He flexed his fingers in the gauntlet and the leather made a creaking noise. “For the girl I—” Miyako interrupted him, her eyes already picking. “Knives, I want six. Also ‘them’. She pointed at some sharp, spiked, oddly shaped objects; they were caltrops.” After continuing to pick items that caught their eyes, it wasn’t long until they were fully outfitted.

They bought bandages, a spool of thin rope, a small iron hook, and a tin of oil for the lantern. They bought extra bolts for Alice’s new crossbow and a little leather pad she could tuck under her shoulder to stop the kick from making her drop it when the first one came. Hibiki, meanwhile, had a morning star slung across his shoulder as if it were a new pet. He grinned the grin of a child with a secret. The market had the smell of fried dough and fruit; they ate as they moved, hot sweet bread clasped in their hands.

A third of what they had was gone in a blink, but in return they weren’t the same ragged group that had wandered into the city with the bare minimum. Each of them carried something solid now, something that could protect themselves and the things they cared for. Alice hugged the weight of her crossbow against her chest, the fresh leather strap creaking as she shifted. Miyako had her knives arranged with clinical precision: two on each side of her hip, one hidden under her armour, one in her boot and the thick leather pouch of caltrops snug against her thigh. Hibiki spun the spiked club-like weapon once, nearly clipping a stall post, and laughed as the smoke bombs rattled in the cloth bundle tied to his belt.

Ren felt the weight of the straight sword against his side and the steel gauntlet pressing tight against his left hand. It wasn’t just protection; it was insurance against the city. The group slipped through the crowd, breaking their bread and chewing as they walked, eyes set on the smaller streets leading back toward the orchard. The next part was easy—they needed to test their gear before sunset so they weren’t going in blind. If they knew how it felt to swing or shoot, then it should make the rest of the plan easier. If they waited until the docks, until the warehouse, they’d only be testing it in blood, and the risk would be much higher.

They made it to the orchard in record time and it was quieter than ever; no voices from the street carried in this time, only the sound of their boots crunching dead leaves and the distant noise of an animal from the city behind them. Ren led them into the orchard once again, looking around to make sure no one was watching. The weapons looked alien against the ruined orchard—steel and iron among the thorns and rotting fruit.

Hibiki kicked at a half-rotten fruit, sending it rolling before swinging his weapon into a tree trunk for practice. The impact shook the branches and sent a thump through the ground that made Alice flinch, clutching her blooming pear flower in her breast pocket. Hibiki grinned, not noticing Alice's fear. “Not bad,” he muttered.

Miyako ignored him and crouched near the clearing, laying the caltrops out one by one before scooping them back into the pouch. She repeated the motion until her hands were satisfied with the speed. Alice sat cross-legged again, resting the crossbow across her lap, turning the bolt between her fingers as though touching it would make her less scared of it.

Ren stepped into the recurring beam of sunlight at the centre and drew his sword for the first time outside of the merchant’s table. It was plain, sharp, and deadly; it would take some time to get used to the balance. He tested a few short strikes against the empty air, the gauntlet clenching his left hand tight with each motion. It wasn’t graceful, but it would do.

The orchard was filled with the monotonous sounds of practice: Hibiki’s swings thudding against dead bark, Miyako’s knives thumping into a tree and being pulled free again, and the faint click of Alice winding her crossbow string back into place. Ren moved until his arm ached, his hand blistering under the hilt, the sword’s edge catching the light. It wasn’t enough to make them ready, but it helped.

Eventually Miyako straightened, brushing dirt from her knees. “That’s enough,” she said, her voice surprisingly carrying a hint of fear. She looked at them in turn, her eyes pausing a little longer on Alice, who was still trembling slightly even as she loaded another bolt. “We’re not going to become experts in an afternoon. We just need to know our hands won’t fail when it matters.” Ren wiped sweat from his brow and slid the sword back into the scabbard. “And if they do?”

Miyako didn’t hesitate. “Then we deal with it. Like we always have.” She fastened her knives back into place and pulled her hood low over her face. “Check your straps; make sure nothing’s loose. Once we leave here, we don’t stop until the docks.” Hibiki finally stopped swinging the weapon, letting it hang heavy at his side. His grin had long gone. “Guess this is it, then.”

Alice stood slowly, the crossbow awkward in her hands, but she didn’t put it down. Her voice was quiet but clear enough to carry. “If Darius is in there… we have to bring him back. We…have to.” Ren nodded. “We will,” he said, even if he wasn’t sure. The four of them stepped out of the orchard together; they were armed, they were prepared, and it wouldn't be long until sunset came. It was time to approach their target.