Busy Mornings

When the Sun rose, there was much to do.

Nahida becomes familiar with Princess Ellen’s room over the course of the night. She sets to work preparing for the day however she can. She stands and immediately opens curtains to shine light into the room. She inspects all of Ellen’s medical equipment. It is an archaic chemistry set up, but appears to be mostly functional.

She does not know how to fabricate Isaac’s medications, but she had downloaded a chemical makeup report of them all, and was equipped with a chemical analyzer. She could sample materials and approximate an acceptable substitute.

Before that could begin, Nahida needs to establish the room as a proper work space. All of the loose articles of clothing, tented and stacked books, and assorted plush animal toys didn’t make for a safe or sterile work environment.

She patrols the room, picking up what clothes she could and gathering them in neat stacks. Dresses, gowns, ribbons, skirts, blouses, corsets, bloomers, stockings, garters, the room was a true mess; picking up a piece of clothing reveals another book, another plush, or even a stray flask. 

This space was a hazard. It is clear to her that Ellen is unfit to be a caretaker in this state. Nahida scowls slightly as two words come to mind: frustration and annoyance.

While Nahida worked at preparing Ellen’s quarters, King Harlan has taken to the training grounds near the armory. Harlan steps through each beat and rhythm of the Mistral Sword dance, now able to engage fully with the open air around him.

One… two… three… one-ee-and-ah two… three and one-ee-and-ah two and three-ee-and one. Step… Dip… Swing! pivot-back-foot, Swing! step-to-the-right, push back, rotate-up-and swing!

It isn’t as easy as he remembers it being, the years were catching up to him, but he still remembers every step, every form, every lesson. He would need to be in well enough condition for a demonstration of the arts if he was to instruct the hero. Harlan needed the practice as much as the boy needed training.

As Harlan drills himself, there is a small panting that approaches. “Hm?” He turns to spot the source, and spies a small messenger boy with a wide, rabbity smile. “Ah, Sunny! What news have you, lad?”

Sunny skids to a halt. His arms twirl as he tilts forward, trying to keep his balance. He manages to stick the landing and stands at attention before bowing. “Your Highness, none of the doctors I spoke to in Mistral proper knew what these medicines were.”

Harlan let an exasperated breath slip. “I suspected that would be the case… Good work as always, lad.”

Sunny pops back up with an enthusiastic sound. He salutes. “Thank you, sir!”

Harlan couldn’t help cracking a smile. “At ease, my boy.” He rests the Mistral Blade against his shoulder and digs into his pocket. He pulls a small ticket out, as well as two gold coins. “Here is the rest of your pay, and a little treat for your efforts. I assume you know what to do with it by now?” He holds them out for Sunny.

Sunny gives an excited shout. “Yes, yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Sunny accepts the coins and ticket. His head spins with the sugary sweets the ticket could get him. He runs off.

Harlan belts out a hearty laugh. He is again reminded why the suppression of the abyss matters.

Alfred, meanwhile, sidles through the busy halls of the cathedral in daylight. His mind is set on a single task. He approaches the library, a much more orderly collection of books. A handful of scholars were present.

He approaches Ava, a particularly annoyed, chocolate-tanned elven woman of the Udako Plains. She sits upon a ladder, reading through a book from the upper shelves.

She looks to be half awake, which is the expected state of being for any Udaki elf forced to work in the daytime.

Her eyes were like great silver mirrors under the heavy lids. She wore darkened lenses to protect her eyes from the daylight, and they hooked over her long, long, long pointed ears. Her ears stuck out past her shoulders and slacked down.

Udaki elves typically kept their hair short, but Ava’s grain-toned locks were an absurd length, especially given her slender and tall frame. She wore part of the healer’s uniform, at least the chemise and tabard, but nothing else… a fact that is much more apparent when looking at her from below the ladder. Alfred tries to maintain eye-contact with her. As he clears his throat, she seems to ignore him. “Sister Ava, I have a request.”

She flips through the book.

“It is of the utmost importance, Sister Ava.”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Whatever it is, I refuse.”

“I… haven’t even told you-“

“I’m sure it involves some busywork you can’t be bothered with. Therefore, I refuse.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns away from her to pace. “Yes, you’ve caught me. But you won’t be expected to do it for free.”

“And what is your offer?”

“Will access to the archives suffice?”

“It’s a start… what else have you?”

“…I can offer you three gold coins.”

“Ten.”

“Four.”

“Seven.”

“I can’t go any higher than five, Sister.”

“Is that so? Unfortunate for you.” She flips another page.

Alfred let out an exasperated sigh. “Six coins, and I’ll bring you dinners.”

Ava dog-ears the book and claps it closed. She pushes it back into the shelf and hops from the ladder. She lands with a cat-like grace. “I’m listening.”

Alfred glares at the book. “Perhaps I asked the wrong person…”

“Is that so? Eight coins then.”

“Wha-“ Alfred grumbles. “Look, I just need someone to search the archives for me. I need to find the other volumes of The Chronicle of the Heroes.”

Ava’s ears twitch. “You could have any apprentice handle that work.”

“You know why I’ve come to you for this.”

“…You want access to the fifth volume…”

Alfred nods. “You’re the hero’s scribe, you are the authority on this. Surely, you’ve heard about the condition of the newly summoned hero.”

“Perhaps. What do you hope to gain from this?”

“I need to know… I need to be sure that we aren’t the ones who did this to the hero.”

Ava huffs. Her ears twitch a bit more. “Bleeding heart… fine, five and dinners.”

Alfred bows his head. “Thank you, Sister.”

She smirks. “I would have done it for dinners alone.”

Alfred grumbles as she gives him a smug laugh.