Brooms, Books, And Bad Decisions

As we arrive at the next shop, I savor the delicious vanilla-y last bite of the edible cloud Vincent bought for me along the way.

The shop is an old, windowless brick building that’s shockingly plain. A weathered sign hangs on for dear life above the door. It simply reads, “We Sell Brooms.”

Vincent hands me some money. “You’re gonna go in there and touch the orb in the center of the room. Fair warning, hundreds of brooms will start zipping around the store, and they can be a bit… aggressive. But eventually one’s going to choose you, and you’ll have yourself a partner for life. Things’ll get a bit chaotic, but as the Longstraws that run this place have been saying for generations:

“‘The process is always right.’”

***

“Yer’ banned for life!”

SLAM!

The short, grumpy, green-haired old man retreats back into his store.

Vincent raises an eyebrow.

“Um… all the riding brooms rejected me, and I ended up bonding with the autobroom that cleans the building instead. He… didn’t appreciate me accidentally stealing it.”

“But the wind sprite in that broom isn’t meant for—

“Ah, well, I’m sure it’ll work out. Let’s just, uh, head to the next shop. We can’t have your broom doing its own thing on the way there, so you’ll need to put it to sleep. Grab where the handle meets the bristles and send out three pulses of mana in rapid succession.”

“Wait! Before I do—I think earlier I saw a… there!”

Broom in hand, I sprint to a stand full of hair accessories. Vincent follows behind with a curious look on his face.

Releasing my grip on the broom, I smile. “Alright, choose whatever one you want!”

My broom hovers in front of each column of accessories, swaying thoughtfully from side to side, until finally it tips itself over—smacking its handle into a large red bow.

“Hey, that’s what I would’ve picked too! We really were meant to be!”

Vincent hands the stand owner some money and turns to me. “You know this counts as your next stop, right?”

Worth it.

I tie the bow around the base of the bristles, then give the handle a few scratches.

“From henceforth, your name shall be Princess Broomalina Augusta Von Strawgale The First.”

“…That’s a mouthful.”

I turn to Vincent and smile proudly. “Her full title will be Her Royal Highness Princess Broomalina Augusta Von Strawgale The First, Patron Saint Of The Eight Winds And Supreme Sweeper Of The Realm.”

“Yeah, funny you mention it—that’s the first name that popped into my mind too… Uh, wait a minute. How do you even know she’s a girl broom?”

“I just know these things, Vincent, don’t question it.”

I turn to her. “Okay, Broomalina, sleep tight!”

After sending out three quick pulses of mana, Broomalina immediately goes limp. I pick up Broomalina with one hand and take Vincent’s hand with the other. Strangely, I’ve gotten so used to it I'm not even embarrassed anymore.

Vincent presses onward. “Next up, textbooks and school supplies.”

***

The store is the largest building we’ve seen yet, made almost entirely of glass, and owned directly by the academy. It’s filled with an endless assortment of school supplies and dozens of young summoners, many shopping alongside their parents.

I quickly let go of Vincent's hand.

It takes him all of two seconds to catch on. “Oops, sorry kid. I’ll try not to cramp your style in front of the other students.”

We’re immediately hit with stares and murmurs as we step inside. I try my best to ignore all the attention as Vincent makes a beeline for one of the employees behind the store’s counter.

“Hey there, this one’s starting school at the Summoner Academy tomorrow, but we have no idea what she needs to be ready. Think you could help us out?”

“W-w-why it would be an honor, M-Mister Mistbook—brook, sir! I’ll go gather everything you need r-right away! You just sit tight!”

She sprints off, darting frantically around the store, gathering items into a brown sack as though her very life depended on it.

I whisper into Vincent’s ear. “Can you please just tell me already why everybody’s always staring at—”

“Move it!”

CRASH!

A couple dozen items smack against the floor, followed by the laughter of several people. I turn toward the commotion and see the student who dropped them sprawled across the floor.

Oof.

Been there.

I rush over, kneel beside him, and start quickly gathering everything back into his dropped bag.

A girl stands over him with a smirk on her face. “Maybe next time you should watch where you’re going,” she taunts.

“E-excuse me, but if you r-ran into him, you should help him—” Before I can finish, I look up to find the girl staring daggers at me with fierce amber eyes, her massive fiery-red ponytail fanning out behind her. Even the three village boys put together weren’t half as intimidating as this girl.

“What was that?!” she growls.

I reflexively put my head down. “N-n-nothing. S-Sorry.”

Old habits die hard, I guess.

She scoffs, “Pathetic,” and walks away.

That… didn’t feel great.

Nonetheless, I continue gathering the boy’s things while he recovers from his fall. By the time I’m finished, he’s finally managed to push himself upright. He ruffles his fluffy brown-ish blonde hair and adjusts his thick spectacles, looking at me in surprise as I hand him his belongings, neatly organized in his bag.

I give him a warm smile. “I-I’m sorry you had to go through that. I hope you’re feeling okay.”

He stares for several seconds, seemingly at a loss for words. He must still shaken up by the fall.

I lean in and whisper. “Is everything alright?”

Startled, he flinches back before snapping out of his daze. “Ah, y-yes, thank you.”

“Here you go!” I hand him his supplies. “I’m Nora by the way, what’s your—”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” He bows his head before hastily making his way out of the store.

Wow… after Vivian, the old guy, and now these two… maybe cityfolk really are unfriendly.

I make my way back to Vincent just as the store employee returns.

“A-Alright Mister Mistbrook sir, this should have her covered.” She hurriedly tallies everything up, then hesitantly speaks. “I-I don’t mean to bother you, sir, b-but, several years ago… you saved my hometown—and my daughter.”

She takes a long breath.

“This might not mean much, but, I’d like to give you my employee discount. Consider it a father-daughter discount. Seeing how adorable the two of you are together… it reminds me of my own daughter—and it’s thanks to you she still brings joy to my life everyday, s-so, it’d honor me greatly if you’d accept it.”

I try to interject. “B-but we’re not—”

“And how much would that discount be?” Vincent asks.

“Vincent!”

“Forty percent.”

He immediately pulls me close and covers my mouth. His expression instantly softens into the most fatherly smile I’ve ever seen.

“Ah, yes, my daughter. You know, I just love her ever so much—” He nuzzles his head against mine. Some of the other customers start whispering upon finding out Vincent has a secret love child.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life, please just let me disappear.

“—So anything you could do for us would be greatly appreciated.”

She hands him a slip of paper, and he hands her the money.

“Thank you, sir. Truly.”

“No, thank you.”

He grabs the sack of supplies, throws me under his arm, and sprints outside, only putting me down once we’ve gotten out of sight of the building.

“Oh man, what a deal!”

I glare at him with all the ferocity I can muster—which unfortunately is little more than that of an angry puppy.

“Vincent! How could you do that?! I was so embarrassed! You even lied! Lying is wrong!”

“Nora, come on… it was 40%.”

I cross my arms.

“You know, kid, I’ve been blowing money on you all day, I’d think the least you could do is have a little sympathy for—” He cuts himself off after glancing at me.

…

He’s right. I’m being pretty awful, aren’t I?

He’s done so much for me, and I have so little time left with him, yet here I am chewing him out over something so insignificant. I still haven’t even figured out a way to repay his kindness, and the day’s almost over.

…

“Listen, Nora, I was just kidding around. I didn’t mean that. I’m more than happy to help—”

“No… you were right. But if it’s okay with you, can I run back to the store? I think I dropped something in there.”

“Uh, yeah… sure, go for it. Just make it quick—we’ve still got one last stop. You still need your spellbird.”

“Thank you, Vincent!” I force the best smile I can manage, then run back to the store.