Volume 01 - Chapter 2: A Sword, a Stone, and a Barmaid (Part 2)

In return for confessing Mizuka’s crime, I’m ousted from the tavern and asked to never return lest I steal any more of their help. Goodbye, delicious food. Goodbye, busty barmaids. Now I know why my father prattled on and on about the dangers of chasing skirts and the trouble those in the skirts might cause me.

It doesn’t take long to find Mizuka bearing down on the cowering barmaid. To anyone else, this would appear a textbook case of bullying. Perhaps she’s alleviating her rage from her earlier humiliation. I could help the poor girl, but going against my ‘master’ isn’t the best idea.

“You seriously know nothing about that sword?” Mizuka points toward the park, her other hand forming a fist.

“N-Not much. It’s related to my…” She mumbles, knees rubbing against each other, hands pressed together as if in prayer.

“With your what?”

“My memories…they’re—”

“Missing, right? I don’t know who or what you are, but can tell we’re connected. You shouldn’t have any memories from before three years ago. Correct?”

“How did you—”

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me everything about yourself. Where you came from, what you’ve been doing, and your relation to that sword in the stone.”

“Slow down, Mizuka. You’re asking too many questions at once.” Despite my fear, I come to the girl’s defense. As with Mizuka and that sword, I’m compelled to treasure her—keep her safe.

“…Perhaps.” She twirls her hair. “I was just surprised. Finding my fragment manifested in human form was unexpected to say the absolute least.”

“Do you know who I am?” The girl shoots up straight, chest jiggling. I need to stop focusing on those, but she’s so short, I have to look down, and my eyes naturally, well…I have no excuse.

“Yes and no. You are a part of me, but I’m not sure which part. Again, you needn’t worry about me. Tell me about yourself.”

“Me? Why? I’m not interesting at all.”

“No matter. The more information, the closer I’ll be to regaining my fragment.”

“…I’ll tell you, but then I really have to get back to work.”

“No. You’ll not leave my sight until the sword is mine.”

“B-But I’ll get in trouble…oh, right…I’ll probably be yelled at…” She mumbles, an odd grin on her flushed face. “Very well. If you can help me learn who I am, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Good, start talking. But leave out the boring parts.”

“That would mean leaving everything out.”

“I’ll be the one to decide that.”

She gives a hesitant nod, breathes deep, and begins her tale.

Three years ago, the girl awoke for the first time; sprawled upon the grassy floor, a stone at her side. And in the stone—a sword. A sword unlike any other. One she knew to be a part of her, or at least belonged to her. She took hold and tried to reclaim it, but failed. Again and again until she could bear the despair and her blistering hands no more.

Empty stomach howling and biting wind berating her naked body, she left the sword behind and trudged toward the only path she saw. Trying to think, she found she remembered nothing. Not who she was, where she came from, or why she was wherever she was. Her memories had vanished, if she ever had any at all.

But not all was lost. She knew she had to retrieve the sword at all costs and that something…was missing. Whether she was missing something or she was a missing piece of a greater whole, she wasn’t sure but had no doubt it was true. The hole in her heart ached with a longing she still cannot explain.

The girl circled the whole of Gamaloth, meeting no one in the dead of night, taking sheets hung up to dry for robes. With the last of her fading strength, she tried to return to the sword but collapsed in front of Sparrow’s End.

The tavern owner discovered her the next morning, carried her inside, fed her a hearty meal, and almost sent her away when the girl begged to stay. With nowhere else to go and refusing to part from her sword, it was all she could do.

Looking her over and giving a nod of approval, the owner offered her a job as a barmaid. Her pay would be a small room in the back, as much food and drink as she wanted, and even a bit of extra coin depending on how hard she worked. The girl agreed and has been serving at the tavern ever since.

Every day, she would try to reclaim the sword but never succeeded. After a year of failures, she tried less and less and eventually gave up entirely, only coming to watch others try to claim it.

At first, she tried to stop them. Not because the sword was hers, but out of a fear she doesn’t fully comprehend. She can handle the sword and its power, but not anyone else. To claim the sword would spell disaster for whoever might do so. But no one ever listened, and she soon gave that up too. Without a clue who or what she is and the hole in her heart ever widening, she watches in silence as her sword rejects all—including her.

“It hurts. Knowing it’s mine, but being unable to pull it out of that stupid stone.” She drags a pencil-thin arm across her damp eyes.

Mizuka glares at the ground. “That answers a few questions. However, it does not solve our current problem. Is there nothing else you know about the sword? Didn’t you ever think to ask anyone else about it?”

“Nothing. I’ve asked nearly everyone in Gamaloth, travelers from all over Seiren visiting the tavern, and several who came to try and claim it, but not one knew a thing.” The girl shrinks further into herself, rubbing her arm.

“…I suppose commoners would have no reason to know. In any case, I want you to try pulling the sword out again.”

“Ehh, why? It’s no use; I’ve tried a million times already.”

“Don’t whine. Failure breeds success. With me—the true owner—here, you might succeed.” Mizuka binds the girl’s wrist again.

“No, no, no way, I don’t want to go. I’ve had enough!” The girl struggles, pulling in the opposite direction. Yet, she wears not anguish but that strange smile from earlier.

Too hungry to join her protest, I follow, doing everything I can to not burn the glorious visage of the girl’s shaking breasts and hiked-up skirt into my wide eyes.