Forging

This is an original short story I wrote over half a decade ago. I have made no alterations to how its contents, so please do not expect anything of even decent quality. You can find my thoughts on Forging here.

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            “Thank you for your business!”

            I called the words out to the customer as he turned away to leave. He hesitated momentarily, as if considering his next action. Without facing me, he gave a half-hearted, dismissive wave before hurrying out of the shop.

            I made sure to maintain my smile until he had left. Once the door closed, I sighed, letting my face relax into a somber frown. Now that I was alone, I didn’t have to pretend.

            My name is Casimir. I’m a young man of not even eighteen years who currently works at the general store in a remote village called Galiebte Outpost in the country of Rotteland. Then again, perhaps village is too liberal of a title as this place really only consists of three businesses and a handful of farmhouses. In fact, most travelers don’t even bother with anything beyond Galiebte’s main attraction, the brothel, so I can see why “outpost” caught on.

            How I got here is an unfortunate but common tale. To put it plainly, I’m a war refugee. I fled from my motherland after the conflict claimed my hometown. After a few months of wandering, I met Mr. Wieland, this shop’s owner. He took pity on me and kindly offered me a place to stay in exchange for manning his shop, thus my current occupation.

            For the most part, life here is quite pleasant. There’s rarely any crime, as most folk are just passing through on their way to the larger cities. But, as exemplified by my most recent customer, I do encounter some personal difficulties.

            Frankly, many of the locals avoid me. And I know why. I’m not outlandishly hideous or have a reputation for engaging in undesirable activities. No, it’s because of something much more silly and immutable.

            They avoid me simply because I’m a foreigner.

            Despite acting as a trading outpost, this town receives very little in the way of international traffic. As such, the faces around here have a certain homogeneity to them. Black hair, pointed noses, and tan skin are the norm. Any variation is met with skepticism and hastened conversation.

            I probably would have been able to pass as a local if it weren’t for my hair. Coming from a neighboring land, my own appearance would have been similar enough to slip unnoticed. Though my features are less sharp, my skin is just as brown. Unfortunately, my homeland is famous for its silver-haired people, and I bear such a trait as visibly as any of my fellow countrymen.

            I had considered shaving my hair in an effort to mitigate this signalling, but as I’ve already lived in Galiebte for a year, I doubt it would do much to hide my ethnicity now. Most would probably recognize me as the young man who works at Mr. Wieland’s shop, and the few who didn’t would likely treat me with equal suspicion upon seeing someone my age without hair. As such, I’ve simply accepted my status as an outsider.

            Thankfully, the locals don’t treat me too harshly. They rarely deny me any business or openly express their prejudices. Rather, it’s more that they just won’t warm up to me. Most won’t speak to me beyond the smallest of talk, and the few that do are visibly uncomfortable with the sole exception being Mr. Wieland.

            But I’m not unhappy. Even though I’m lonely at times, I’m safe. I earn enough money to eat regularly and can even enjoy the occasional diversion. I don’t have to worry about starvation, thirst, or shelter. I’ve found a place to live away from the wars and conflicts of the world.

            It doesn’t matter how weak or cowardly I am. I can survive here.

            I heard the telltale bell of someone walking into the shop followed by a clatter as the door closes again. I listened as footsteps approach the counter, glancing over at my next customer. A genuine smile came over my face as I recognized him.

            He’s raggedy in every sense of the word. The clothes he’s wearing are composed of animal hides and patched cloth. They’re dirty and stained, but the man doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t mind that his boots are caked with mud or that his sash is threadbare. If anything, he seems to want to showcase himself as a mountain hermit.

            Despite my pleasure upon seeing him, I don’t know this man’s name. As he doesn’t speak the local language, he may have told me it without my realization. Regardless, the local’s have given him a nickname. We call him “Uncle Albino”, and like me, he’s an obvious foreigner.

            But unlike me, he would have had no chance of ever blending in. His pale skin immediately ousts him and his blonde hair is a beacon of exoticism. Yet again, he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t wear a hood or try to hide his skin. His beard is just as golden, but it looks as if he’s never bothered to shave it. He presents his deviations with indifference.

I’m honestly envious of his lack of concern.

            “Welcome,” I greeted him. “Is there anything I can help you find?”

            Uncle Albino looked at me from under his shaggy eyebrows and replied in that unfamiliar, clicking tongue of his. I knew I wouldn’t understand anything he said, but I wanted to offer him the same service everyone received.

            “I apologize, but I can’t understand you. But as always, please point to anything you need assistance with.” I pantomimed pointing in hopes of conferring comprehension.

            The man just grunted and went about browsing the store. I continued to smile as I watched him look over the shelves.

            From what Mr. Wieland told me, Uncle Albino started showing up in Galiebte about three years ago. He came from over the nearby hills, walked through town for a bit, then went to the trading center. He exchanged a wolf pelt for a hammer and a fish hook, then promptly disappeared back into the mountains. The locals were quite confused by the strange man’s unexpected arrival, but chalked it up as a fluke occurrence and quickly forgot about him.

            He then showed up again a week later. This time, he went straight to the trading center, now exchanging a bag of bird feathers for a jar of oil. Again, he then departed into the mountains without any attempts at discourse. And ever since, he’s shown up about once a week to exchange animal hides for seemingly random items.

            It’s unknown what Uncle Albino’s doing with the things he buys. He never has them when he comes to town, and popular opinion holds that he’s a hunter who lives alone in the mountains. One rumor is that he’s giving them to a sasquatch, but since the man doesn’t speak our language, confirmation would require investigation. The locals are too afraid to try following him to the hills, so for now, Uncle Albino remains a regional curiosity.

            Today, he’s buying a roll of tanned leather. He places the roll on the shop’s counter before pulling his bag off his shoulder. Reaching inside, he takes out a pair of rabbit furs. After asking me something unintelligible, he held out the furs for my inspection.

            I took them in hand and made a show of looking them over. Per Mr. Wieland, I’m to approve whatever exchange Uncle Albino wants as long as it’s reasonable. The strange man’s presence tends to scare off customers, so Mr. Wieland wants him gone as fast as possible.

            However, I don’t want to alienate Uncle Albino. Even if the locals are scared of him, he doesn’t deserve to be mistreated. So, even if it’s dishonest, I make sure he feels like I’m taking him seriously. After checking both of the furs, I looked at him and nodded.

            “Yes, these seem worth the leather,” I said with a friendly smile. “I’m willing to make this trade.”

I then grabbed the roll of leather and held it out to Uncle Albino. He nodded in return and took hold of his purchase, placing it in his bag before slinging the sack back over his shoulder. A few more unknown words, then he headed towards the door.

“Thank you for your business,” I called out to him.

Like the man from earlier, Uncle Albino paused for a moment. But that was all they had in common. The strange man turned on his heel to face me, saying another phrase in his clicking language. Walking a few steps backwards, he gestured in farewell before stepping out the door.

I continued to smile even after he left.

In a lot of ways, I’m quite fond of Uncle Albino. I think it’s mostly because I can sympathize with his status as an foreigner. In fact, he probably has it worse than me since he doesn’t even speak the same language or live in town. But he doesn’t seem to let that bother him as he’s just here to trade.

Indeed, I’m quite envious of that strong nature. Everything about Uncle Albino makes him stand out from the locals, but he never responds to the suspicious looks he receives. He must be aware of how strange he looks to everyone else, yet it doesn’t faze him at all. He continues to live as a hermit and a mystery, acting in the manner he’s decided for himself.

It would be a lie to say I didn’t wish I could also live so detached from the world’s judgment. But I know that’s not possible. I’m too weak-spirited to be so bold, too meek for such independence. I rely on the actions of others just to survive, so I can’t help but fold under the skeptic gazes of the locals.

But that’s okay. As long as I’m still alive and safe, I don’t need to be strong. I’m happy enough just seeing Uncle Albino carry out his unique lifestyle. Even if it’s vicarious, I feel a pride in watching that strange man stand tall amidst the searing eyes of our town.

From one foreigner to another, I wish all the best for Uncle Albino.

I put the rabbit furs under the counter. Truthfully, they’re worth a bit less than that leather, but I’m sure Mr. Wieland won’t mind. I make a mental note to swing by the fur peddler when I get a chance. Mr. Wieland’s store doesn’t sell pelts, so he would be much happier if I went ahead and exchanged them for coin instead.

Not even ten minutes later, a pair of women entered the shop. They giggled to each other as they walk, quietly sharing some sort of humor. I put my smile back on and greeted them.

“Welcome, can I help you find anything?”

One of them glanced at me for a second, but they otherwise ignored my reception. I expected that, however, so I don’t let it get to me. Instead, I kept that smile on my face and remained ready to help them upon request.

*           *           *           *           *

            I have often wondered where Uncle Albino lives. If I had to guess, I would have said a cave or something in the hills. It would seem pretty fitting for a hermit like him. But like the locals, I’ve never followed him to find out, so I don’t know for certain. I’m not afraid of the man, however. I’m afraid of being attacked by beasts or marauders, so I’ve resigned myself to stay within the outpost and leave my wonderings as passing speculations.

            But now I’m starting to wonder if I should reconsider that.

            It’s been over two weeks since I last saw Uncle Albino. It’s not unusual for him to skip a week, but he’s never stayed away this long. I suppose it’s possible he just doesn’t need anything at the moment, but I still find myself worried. Considering how consistently he makes his inexplicable trades, I can’t imagine he’d stop now.

I asked Mr. Wieland for his thoughts on the matter, but he seemed more relieved than anything. After I pressed the issue a bit more, he grew annoyed and told me I should go looking for Uncle Albino on my next day off. I know that was Mr. Wieland’s method of ending the conversation, but I later found myself actually considering the idea.

But again, I hesitate out of fear. I don’t know how to protect myself from the wilds. I only survived after the destruction of my hometown through churches and other sources of goodwill. Although I’m worried about Uncle Albino, there’s too much of a risk for me to search for him on my own.

Funnily enough, it was my cowardice that inspired my solution: if I can’t do this myself, why don’t I try hiring someone who can?

Perhaps it’s woefully craven, but my pride is a cheap price to ensure Uncle Albino’s safety. I had saved up a good amount of coin over the past few months, and considering the number of travelers that come through Galiebte, I felt confident that I could find someone willing to do the job, even if it was coming from some foreigner. And even if it turned out Uncle Albino was fine and had simply stayed home, I could at least return to town with the answers to this long-held mystery.

            So, on the morning of my day off, I quickly got dressed, ate my breakfast, and left my home. I live in a small shed on Mr. Wieland’s property, a generous gift from my employer. His own house is much larger, but considering he’s married with four children, I can understand why he wouldn’t want to board me within his home. I couldn’t possibly ask more from my magnanimous employer anyways.

            I hurried to the trading grounds, though to be honest, I don’t really know what I’m expecting to see. I guess I’m hoping to run across a hunter or perhaps a soldier, pretty much any person who’s armed and willing to try tracking down a man. I walked up and down the markets, looking for the bows or furs of an outdoorsman.

Unfortunately, it’s still too early in the day. Only a few merchants are walking the grounds, without anyone who looks anything close to a hunter in sight. I don’t let this discourage me, however, and instead acknowledge that I’ve been searching the wrong place. I left the trading center and headed towards the inn.

            The inn usually plays host to the merchants and other travelers, so I figure it’s likely the best place to find a hunter. And since it’s still early, I can probably catch them before they head out for the day. I stepped inside the building, approached the front desk, and spoke with the innkeeper.

            “Good morning, sir,” I said with the same smile I give my own customers.

            The man behind the desk looked at me with narrowed eyes. “... Morning.”

            Such a suspicious expression. If I wasn’t accustomed to it, I would have assumed I was covered in blood or something. Regardless, I met his disdain with friendliness.

            “I currently have a job outside of town and need some help with it,” I explained. “Would you happen to know if there are any hunters or other outdoorsman staying here who are searching for work?”

            “There aren’t.”

            No hesitation. Either he knew with certainty or he already wants me gone.

            “I understand. Thank you for your time.”

            Still smiling, I turned and left the inn. I can practically feel the innkeeper staring at my back as I pass through the door.

            I knew to expect that sort of response, but I’m still filled with disappointment as I had thought the inn was my best chance of finding someone. I guess I didn’t anticipate getting turned away by the innkeeper. I suppose I could try waiting in front of the inn and ask his client’s directly, but I’m sure that would only irritate the innkeeper and have him complain to Mr. Wieland. Rather than risk damaging my employer’s reputation, I departed for the last place I could look in this tiny town.

            The outpost’s famous brothel, Stummelschwanz.

            I had never been inside the place before as I’ve had no reason to go there until today. The exterior seems inconspicuous enough. It’s a large building composed of dark wood and decorated with a bright red and white sign depicting a rabbit. However, the reputation of this place belies its unassuming appearance.

            I walked up to the front door. I can already hear the sounds of revelry inside, despite the early hour. With a final breath to compose myself, I gripped the handle and pushed my way into this house of dalliance.

            I’m instantly greeted by a powerful mix of lavender and alcohol. The lighting inside is low, but I could see that I was in some sort of lobby. Following the sound of the commotion, I looked through an open doorway to my right and spied a barroom. The rest of the doors from the lobby are closed, assumedly leading to the private rooms and other facilities.

            I awkwardly closed the door behind myself as I stepped into the lobby. I only then noticed the large man standing by the door. He looks down at me, but doesn’t say anything. I meekly smiled at him. He didn’t smile back.

            Turning my eyes forward again, I looked at the sofa and table placed at the other end of the room. It’s occupied by a lounging woman with what appears to be another bouncer standing at her side. Upon noticing me, she rose to her feet and began striding towards me.

            Even though I knew I was going into a brothel, I was left in awe of this woman’s beauty. Wearing only a long-sleeved dress, she walked towards me, one foot in front of the other. Her clothes did nothing to hide her supple curves and only enhanced her tall figure. Her long, black hair bounced with each step, and she flashed me a seductive smirk.

            I felt myself blush. I wanted to look away and hide my embarrassment, but I’m practically hypnotized by the movements of her long legs. She drew ever closer, granting me an even clearer image of her beauty.

            However, instead of seeing more of her perfection, I was instead drawn to her flaws.

I noticed that her right sleeve was hanging loose and empty.  I focused on the strange phenomena, and it became apparent that the woman was missing her right arm entirely. Her shoulder was covered by her dress, but I could see clues as to how she lost her limb in her other scars.

The right side of her face was covered in burn marks, and her right eye was notably white with blindness. Yet somehow, her disfigurements did little to detract from her captivating features. She possessed a face of elegance, a proud beauty that refused to let any deformity hinder her. With confidence to match her allure, the woman stood in front of me and gazed down at the boy who had entered the brothel.

“Hello there, young man,” she said with a sultry voice. “Can I ask what sort of business you have in Stummelschwanz?”

For a second, it was as if I had forgotten how to speak. Shaking myself back to my senses, I managed to find my tongue and reply.

“G-good morning, ma’am,” I stammered out. “Um, my name is Casimir, and I was… uh…”

Why was I here again?

“Ah, you’re Wieland’s foreigner, right?”

I snapped back to attention. I should have been surprised that this woman knew who I was, but she likely noticed my hair as soon as I had walked through the door. Being the only the person with silver hair made my identity an easy assumption.

“Y-yes, that’s right,” I nodded.

“Well, Casimir, can you tell me why you’ve come here?” the woman asked again. “Although I appreciate your interest, you’re a bit too young to partake in any of the services we offer here for now. Are you perhaps here on business for Wieland?”

“No, ma’am. I… I was hoping to ask around and see if there are any hunters here who might be looking for work.”

“Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “And why would you need a hunter, young man?”

I swallowed. “W-well, do you know about Uncle Albino, ma’am?”

“I do.”

“Okay, so, um… well, he normally comes by Mr. Wieland’s shop at least once a week. But, uh, he’s hasn’t shown up in over two weeks, so I’m worried about him. I was hoping to hire a hunter to accompany me on a search and keep me safe from wild animals while I’m outside of town…”

I then realized how incredibly pathetic I must sound. I’m nearly an adult, but I practically just screamed that I’m too scared to leave the outpost. I was already undesirable as a foreigner, but I must have appeared simply wretched after such craven words.

As expected, the woman laughed. But instead of being filled with mockery, her laugh was gentle and affectionate. She continues to smile at me.

“You’re awfully sweet, aren’t you? I can’t imagine anyone else would have been worried over that strange man’s disappearance,” she said without a hint of ridicule.

I almost don’t know how to react. “Thank you,” I timidly replied. “S-so, would it be alright if I asked around the bar?”

The woman put her hand on her hip and looked at me warily. “Hmmm… how do I know this isn’t some sort of ploy for you to sneak an underaged drink in?”

“Um, well… I handle alcohol all the time at the general store and I’ve never tried to drink it there. I don’t have any interest in drinking, really.”

“Hm. Fine, fair enough,” she nodded. “Alright then, I’ll look the other way for, say, ten minutes. There aren’t too many people in the bar right now, so it shouldn’t take you any longer than that to find out if there’s a hunter amongst them. Just be sure to speak with the bartender first and let him know that Frauke gave you the okay to be in there.”

I froze at the mention of her name. “Wait… um, y-you’re Madame Frauke?” I asked.

“Oh? Is there another one-armed brothel-owner in town that I’m not aware of?”

“N-no, but…” I averted my eyes as a new embarrassment overwhelms me. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I had never seen you before, and I didn’t know you ran your business’ reception, so I-”

“Be at ease, Casimir,” she interrupted, holding up a hand dismissively. “You’ve been nothing but respectful to me. If anything, I should have introduced myself sooner.”

“B-but Mr. Wieland assures you me you deserve nothing but the utmost respect! Your establishment is the main reason this town is able to attract most of its business!”

“Perhaps, but I don’t particularly care for being treated like some breed of noble. I attend the town meetings out of obligation, not desire. I’m much happier being among my clientele than those businessmen.”

“Still… I apologize, Madame.” I bowed my head. “And I greatly appreciate you allowing me to enter the bar despite my age.”

“It’s fine,” said Frauke. Curiously, her words were tinged with annoyance for the first time. “Now get going before your hunter decides he’s had enough to drink.”

“Ah, of course. Thank you again, Madame!”

With that, I hurried into the bar. The din was even louder within the room, and I could finally see the source of the commotion. A group of men had gathered in what appeared to be an arm wrestling competition, shouting and hollering as muscle strained against muscle. I noticed several pints of ale were being passed around merrily, a blatant disregard to common drinking times.

Per Madame Frauke’s instructions, I immediately went to the bar and approached the bartender. He was a large man with an intimidating face, but he seemed handle all of his glasses with the greatest of care. He understandably looked at me with suspicion, but politely waited for me to speak first.

“Hello, sir, Madame Frauke told me to speak with you,” I explained. “I was hoping to ask around the bar to see if there are any hunters looking for work. The Madame gave me her approval to be in here.”

The bartender looked at me for a moment longer, then said, “Ah. Okay.”

I stood there, waiting for him to say more. It felt like there should have been more discussion, but judging from how the bartender had walked back to his other patrons, I was forced to assume that our conversation was already over. I then turned to face the rest of the room, scanning it for potential hunters.

I first tried a group of armed men sitting away from the arm wrestlers. I walked up to them, asking if they were interested in work. When they agreed to listen, I explained my situation and what I needed. Unfortunately, though they had both the skills and availability, they wanted more pay than what I could offer. I reluctantly had to walk away.

I then tried asking a woman dressed in a strange garb. She quickly turned me down, stating that though she would have liked to help, she was actually waiting for someone else. After that, I was left to try my luck with a man cocooned in metal armor. He didn’t even respond to my job offer. I thought he was just being rude, but when I heard a snore echo out from the armor, I realized I had actually been speaking to an unconscious drunkard.

Disheartened by my lack of results, I shuffled back out of the bar. My time was nearly up and I had no desire to impose on Madame Frauke. As I stepped into the lobby, I looked towards her sofa, only to see that it was no longer occupied.

“Looking for me?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I heard the madame’s voice come from behind me. She was leaning against the wall next to the bar’s entrance, her arm crossed in front of her chest. She stepped away from the door and walked up to me.

“I take it there was no one available to help you?” she asked.

“Um… unfortunately, no,” I sighed.

“So what’s your next move?”

“Hmm… I  think I’ll try asking around the trading grounds again in a few hours, once more people show up.”

“And what will you do if you still don’t find a hunter?”

“I guess I’ll have to just hope Uncle Albino is okay. There’s nothing else I can do if I can’t find someone.”

Frauke’s mouth curled with kittenish enthusiasm. “Well, what if I told you I knew someone who was willing to help?”

My eyes went wide with surprise. Did she perhaps speak with some of her peers while I was busy in the bar? I never would have expected such kindness, in fact, I wouldn’t be able to repay her generosity. But still, I couldn’t let such a chance pass me by.

“I would be extremely thankful! I’d like to begin the search as soon as possible, so if I could ask you to introduce me, I’d be in your debt!”

“There’s no need. It was my decision to find you some help.”

“A-are you sure, ma’am?”

“Of course,” she smirked playfully. “And even better, I know they won’t even want any payment. You can keep your savings, young man.”

            My jaw dropped. It felt as if my fortunes had flipped on their heads. “Th-thank you so much, Madame Frauke! I truly appreciate this!”

            “Pleasure is what I deal in, and this was my pleasure,” Frauke cooed. “Go back home and get yourself ready for a long hike, then come meet me in front of the brothel in half an hour. Everything should be ready by then.”

            “I will! Thank you, Madame Frauke!”

            I bowed to her again, then practically ran out of the brothel. I sprinted back to my shed and immediately began stuffing my pack with what food and water I had. It was a bit chilly in town this time of year, and I would assume it would be even colder in the hills, so I grabbed my coat and put on my thicker boots.

Feeling as prepared as I could be, I slung the pack onto my shoulders, adjusted my boots one more time, then quickly returned to Stummelschwanz.

            I immediately spied a figure waiting in front of the brothel. They were dressed in what I would believe was military attire. Their jacket and trousers were a formal blue and trimmed with gold, complete with shiny, black boots. A large matching coat hung off their shoulders and a saber was sheathed at their right hip.

            As I got closer, I noticed their right sleeve had been pinned to a phantom elbow. It only took one glance at their face to recognize this person.

            Madame Frauke

            She had traded her elegant dress for a military uniform. When she saw me approaching, she smirked again, appearing almost on the verge of laughter.

            “Surprised?” she teased.

            “M-madame Frauke?” I asked, stupefied.

            “In the flesh. And out here, it’s just Frauke, kid. I only put up with that dumbass title in the brothel because all the johns think it’s fitting.”

            Her sudden cursing caught me off-guard. Her sweet, seductive veneer was gone, replaced by the abrasive tones of a fighter.

            “Uh… w-well, can I ask why you’re dressed like that?”

            “This?” She made a show of looking over her attire. “It’s my old uniform from my days as an officer in some asshole count’s forces. I’m glad to see I still fit into the damn thing. I figured it was better to go hiking around in than my dress.”

            I couldn’t keep up with this. I was already intimidated by Frauke when she was a polite mistress, but I had no idea how to deal with her as a former military officer. Overwhelming didn’t begin to describe her. How one person managed to be hide such a vastly different personality was beyond me.

            More importantly, did she say she was going hiking?

            “Wait... “ I said cautiously. “Madame-”

            “Just ‘Frauke’,” she interjected with a scowl. “Call me madame again and I’ll put your balls in a vice.”

            I was instantly cowed. “U-uh… so, Frauke?”

            “Yeah?”

“When you said you knew someone who was willing to help, you didn’t mean…”

            “Yep. It’s me.” Her scowl fell away as she beamed with pride. “Well, to be precise, it’s me and my dog. I can’t track worth shit, so we’ll bring my mutt along.”

            “A-a dog?”

            “Yeah, I taught him myself. He’s only ever tracked something once before, though. I needed find some fucker who was trying skip out on paying one of my girls.”

            That was far from my concern. It was as if she didn’t realize that having such an important person go with me on my whimsical excursion was going to severely stress me out.

            “W-well, I’m very thankful you’re helping me, but…” I hesitated as I chose my next words carefully. “May I ask why you’re helping me?”

            “What, you don’t want the illustrious Madame Frauke to help you find some mountain-dwelling weirdo?” she sneered.

            “No, no, nothing like that! I just would have thought this wasn’t important enough for your attention.”

            Frauke let out a laugh. “I’m the one who decides what’s worth my attention. But to answer your question, it’s mostly because I’m bored.”

            “Bored?”

            “Yeah. I spend all day lounging on that sofa, waiting for horny pissants to show up. Sure, I drink and fuck as much as the next girl, but sometimes, I just want to get out of this town and do something different.” Frauke grinned widely at me. “So, when I heard you needed help with a little adventure, I decided that I wanted a piece of that. Like it or not, I’m going with you to find ol’ Uncle Albino.”

            I mulled over her words. Although I was glad for the assistance, I wasn’t sure about it being Frauke. For one, I was worried about how well she could protect herself with only one arm, even if she had military experience and was bringing her dog along. She seemed confident, but I couldn’t share that sentiment.

More importantly, if something happened to her, there was no telling how that might affect me. Mr. Wieland would be livid with me, probably enough to kick me out. I already knew I couldn’t survive on my own. There was too much risk in taking her along.

            “Um, Frauke?”

            “Yeah, Cassy?”

            “Would you perhaps consider just loaning me your dog? I don’t wish to impose so much on you…” I tried.

            “Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s not an imposition if I signed up for it.”

            “I-I know, but… I just feel that perhaps it would be best that I didn’t waste your time with my personal affairs…”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you afraid of having me along for some reason?”

Her words were seething, barely concealing a rage I hadn’t foreseen. There was something in there, a nerve I had come dangerously close to touching. I could feel I wasn’t the first person to try and exclude her. But as she glared at me with an unmatched intensity, I knew there was no way I could pry further.

            Instead, I simply lost my resolve under that gaze.

“N-no, nothing of the sort. I’m very glad for your help, Ma… erm, Frauke.”

            “Good boy,” she smiled. “Now, how about we stop fucking around and get moving? Just need to swing behind Stummelschwanz to pick up my dog and then we can go.”

            “Ah… alright…”

            Without further ado, Frauke started marching around her business. I reluctantly followed after her.

            I was completely uncomfortable with this outcome. I needed help, that much was certain, but this was far from what I would have hoped for. If Mr. Wieland heard about this, he’d be very upset with me for troubling Madame Frauke so much. Unfortunately, it looked like I didn’t have any say in the matter anymore. Frauke had taken the reigns from me and made it her adventure that I was tagging along to.

Still, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. I had gotten everything I had set out to find. And if she was confident in her skills, I had no right to challenge such claims. I lacked the strength to carry out this task alone. I should just be thankful that someone with so much mettle had taken an interest in helping me find Uncle Albino.

            A weakling like me shouldn’t let such a opportunity go to waste.

            Once we were behind the brothel, we approached a large, wooden fence. Frauke walked up to the fence’s gate and held it open, waiting for me. I passed through, and was immediately greeted by her ‘dog’.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have assumed a woman like Frauke would have had a traditional hunting dog, but even outlandish expectations wouldn’t have prepared me for this beast. I was barely three steps into the fenced area when I was knocked over and assaulted by affectionate licks from the massive canine.

“Alright, Nutsack, heel,” I heard Frauke order.

My attacker climbed off of me and padded away to Frauke. Wiping the saliva from my face, I then look over to see what sort of animal had tackled me.

I can’t claim to know very much about dogs, but I at least knew that Frauke’s dog was not a dog at all. With its large frame and sharp features, I could easily identify it as a wolf, or at least a half-wolf. Its grey and white fur shined impressively, further accentuated by its bright blue eyes. If it wasn’t for its silly panting, such a beast could have been worthy of being captured in fine art.

“Cassy, meet Nutsack. This lovely little fella will be our tracker.”

“”N-nutsack”?” I asked, flabbergasted that the beast had such an absurd name.

“Yeah, I named him that on account of how ballsy he is,” Frauke happily explained. “As you saw for yourself, he’s not afraid of anything or anyone.”

I climbed back to my feet. “He’s not very aggressive, though.”

“Not unless I tell him to be. If I say the right command, he’ll tear your cock off.”

“Um, please don’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save that trick for a special occasion. Besides, I doubt you’re the sort to try and pull anything.”

“I certainly won’t with him around…” I muttered. “So, what kind of dog is he?”

“Dunno,” Frauke shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“Some john couldn’t pay his tab, so he offered me a puppy instead. I’d normally kick their ass for being so stupid, but I had wanted a dog for a while so I ended up taking the offer. Of course, I didn’t think that little pup would get this big, but Nutsack’s always been a good boy for the two years I’ve had him.”

“I think that man gave you a wolf…”

“Probably. But as you can see, he’s just a big baby inside.” Frauke descended into a endearing voice and looked down at her dog. Nutsack’s ears folded back and he whined, eager for further attention. His master gleefully gave him a vigorous round of petting.

“Anyways,” Frauke continued, “I’ve been meaning to ask if you had anything of Uncle Albino’s. Nutsack’s trained to follow scents, afterall.”

“Oh… uh, no,” I timidly admitted. My hand anxiously fiddled with one of my pack’s straps.

“Ah. Well, no matter. I take it you at least know the general direction our weirdo goes when he leaves town?”

“Yeah, he always goes over the hills behind the inn.”

“Good enough. It might not work for Nutsack, but it’s better than nothing,” said Frauke. “Besides, Uncle Albino seems like the sort to take the most direct route. I’m sure we’ll find something if we just keeping heading straight from there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t consider finding something of his. If I had known he was going to disappear, I would have kept one of the furs he traded me.”

“Don’t apologize, kid, it’s not your fault. A fur would have just made Nutsack go find a squirrel or something anyways. I’ve got all day to romp around the hills, so I don’t mind if we have to find him just by wandering around.”

            Not even a hint of concern. Frauke was absolutely brimming with confidence. Where I would have frozen at the potential risks, she simply kept moving forward. Like Uncle Albino, she was another person who didn’t let the world weigh them down with worries. Perhaps that was a peace only the strong could enjoy.

            I found myself growing envious of her strength as well.

            “Well, let’s get going, boys. I didn’t put this shit on just to stand around in my dog’s yard.” Frauke opened the gate again before waving with her hand. Nutsack eagerly stepped out and I cautiously followed.

            We walked to the land behind the inn. I described the direction that Uncle Albino normally walked after finishing his business in town. Frauke commanded Nutsack to “find the man”, to which the wolf snapped to a focus and began sniffing the ground. A few seconds later, he turned and barked once at his master before running off ahead.

            “Looks like he found something. Whether it’s our target or not, we’ll find out soon enough,” Frauked said casually.

            “Hopefully no one else has been here,” I replied.

            “I doubt it. I think you and I are the only people who aren’t afraid of Uncle Albino. Wouldn’t surprise me if the rest of the folk think this hill is now cursed or something.”

            We then began hiking up and away from Galiebte, trailing the footsteps of the outpost’s greatest mystery. Past the hill, the land opened up into a wide, green plain. Nutsack continued to sniff and lead, stopping every so often to make sure Frauke and I were following him.

            I remained quiet as we walked. I didn’t know how to broach a conversation with most of Galiebte’s residents, and the true face of Frauke was too intimidating for me. Part of me wished she could have at least kept her mistress persona, but considering how quickly she shed it, it would seem it was an ill-fitting mask for her.

            Frauke, however, was not as socially disinclined. Maybe a minute passed before she shattered the silence with her lurid speech.

            “So Cassy, what’s your favorite part of a woman?”

            I nearly tripped over with shock. I figured owning a brothel meant she was more informal than most, but I could never prepare for such an inappropriate question. I immediately tried to escape the inquiry.

            “Well… I, um… erm, th-that is…” I sputter.

            “C’mon, don’t be such a prude,” Frauke goaded. “A boy your age is more horny than not. I bet you never stop thinking about what gets your spuds boiling.”

            “M-my what?!”

            “What turns you on. You know, what makes your dick hard?”

            I could feel her staring at me, but I couldn’t hope to meet that gaze right now. I wanted to just turn around and go home. It was one thing to accept Frauke’s help, but another if I was going to have to deal with such indecent talk. It wasn’t that I loathed such conversation, it was that I had never engaged in it before. I felt like an unarmed man in a coliseum. My only hope was to try and change the subject.

            “Um… h-hey, don’t you think we should be looking out for w-wild animals instead of talking?” I tried to segue.”

            “Relax, Cassy. Nutsack’ll keep the beasties away, and if one happens to slip by, I’ll be sure to protect you,” Frauke scoffed. “We’re gonna be out here for who knows how long, so let’s get acquainted. Think of this as an opportunity to get to know the real ‘Madame’ Frauke.”

            I’m not sure I want to know the real Frauke, I thought to myself.

            So changing the subject didn’t work as Frauke simply dismissed the attempt. But surely she wasn’t completely insensitive? Perhaps a bit of honesty would work better.

            “Sure, but it’s just that… I’ve never really discussed this sort of thing with anyone.”

            “Ah, I take it you’re a virgin?”

            Part of me dies inside as I realize how foolish my hopes were.

            “It’s nothing to be ashamed about,” Frauke continues. “There aren’t many girls your age in Galiebte anyways, so unless you’re servicing Wieland in other ways, I figured you probably haven’t popped your cherry yet.”

            “No, I definitely don’t do that with Mr. Wieland!” I denied firmly.

            “So you’re still pure?”

“... Yes. I… haven’t slept with a woman yet.”

            “Again, don’t act like it’s something you have to hide. You’d be surprised how many guys come to my brothel to get their first taste of honey. Hell, you’re welcome to do the same once you’re old enough.”

            “Um… thank you?”

            “So anyways, what’s your favorite part of a girl?” Frauke asked again, oblivious to my suffering.

            My face burns with embarrassment. I desperately hoped that maybe she would have dropped the subject, but I seemed to have only stoked the flames. Shaking my head, I accept that she’s not going to give up without an answer. I decide to just press her for further information and tell her whatever she wants to here.

            “Uh… s-sorry, wh-what parts are popular?”

            “Oh, you’re that much of a virgin.” She looked at me with astonished pity. “Okay, well, there’s tits, asses, hips, thighs, feet, and lips. Though, I know some guys that have a thing for backs and navels.”

“Uhh…”

“And I mean, we’re not even covering the subtypes. Some like ‘em curvy while others want a slender girl. Sometimes people want a muscle-bound whore or a fat slut. Age, height, ethnicity, hair color, even accent, I could write a book on the damn specifics some of the johns have requested.”

I didn’t even want to try and reply at this point. Hearing Frauke talk about sexual preferences like we were discussing food was just too jarring for my green mind. I thought she would just say things like “body” or “face”. Instead, I’m left with a selection of perversions I had thought no one would ever speak aloud.

Once again, I wished I hadn’t been so eager at her offer.

But at the same time, I found myself growing frustrated at my own balking. I knew I was a coward, but I was now letting just words intimidate me. And of all the people I could speak on such lewd manners with, why should I be afraid to say anything to a brothel’s mistress? There was no one else here to bear witness to our inappropriate chatting, so anything I said would be almost a complete secret.

Perhaps I should take this opportunity to cut loose, even just a bit...

“So, what’s your poison, Cassy?” Frauke prodded. “Don’t worry, I don’t give a shit about what any of my client’s are into. Just tell me what you like.”

“... There’s no bad answers?” I asked tentatively.

“Well, I personally think anyone who says their favorite part of a woman is “her personality” is a lying asshole. The personality is what you love about a person, I’m asking what you like about women as a whole.”

She practically spat her words, making her disdain quite evident. I hadn’t planned on saying ‘personality’, but now I certainly wouldn’t consider it. I pondered for a moment longer, thinking of the women I’ve seen and what had truly captured my attention.

The water-fetching lady back in my hometown... Mr. Wieland’s oldest daughter... The woman who runs the pottery shop in the trading grounds... And the mistress I had met today…

Normally, I would try to avoid such lecherous thoughts. But between the unending pressure from Frauke and my own mounting frustrations, I felt a new courage welling up from within my soul. With determination, I gave in to my primal side.

I took a deep breath, focusing all of my willpower into my coming statement. Casting off the shackles of purity I had bound myself with, I let my perversions come forth and corrupt me. Now full of bravado, I shouted out my lurid thoughts.

“I… I like long legs!”

Silence filled the air. Not a sound came from Frauke, Nutsack, or I. In that moment, the world stood still and stared at me.

Immediately, I was overcome by a new eruption of shame. I clasped a hand over my mouth in a desperate attempt to take it all back. Fearfully, I glanced over at Frauke, fully expecting her to be holding back her mocking laughter.

Surprisingly, she put her hand on her chin and nodded at me understandingly. Closing her eyes, she smiled with satisfaction.

“Ah, so I’m your type, huh?” she said knowingly.

“What?! No!” I scrambled out, only to then realize my mistake. “I-I mean, yes, but… not… like that… but… I mean, you are-”

Finally, Frauke laughed, a loud guffaw of great humor. “Aw, Cassy, you’re adorable! It’s been awhile since I’ve spoken with a kid your age. I’d forgotten how cute boys can be.”

She clapped me on my shoulder and smirked. Though I felt she was teasing me, there was something relieving in Frauke’s eyes, cooling my embarrassment.

Despite the fire in my cheeks, I felt more at ease, almost as if some burden had been taken off my back. Something about speaking so openly had left me excited. Even though I had been hit with instant regret, I could almost appreciate the thrill of sharing my perversions.

Still, I felt awkward about denying any attraction towards Frauke. “Um, so… I take it you’re not offended?” I said shyly.

“By what? Legs are pretty vanilla, Cassy,” Frauke replied dismissively. “If you’re worried about revealing that you have a crush on me, don’t worry, lots of guys do. Besides, knowing that some kid who’s not even half my age is getting his rocks off to me is kind of flattering.”

 And just like that, I’m self-conscious again.

“W-wait, I didn’t say I have a crush on you!” I blurted out.

“Oh? Well, that’s a shame. I wouldn’t have minded popping your cherry myself.”

“...”

How she managed to maintain a straight face through such a joke amazed me.

“Personally, I’m a fan of asses,” Frauke shared as if she hadn’t just said something completely overwhelming to a young man. “Nothing quite like a man with a nice, firm butt, but some of my girls have really fine asses as well.”

“Is that so…”

“Yessir. Gotta check and find out what their best assets are. And I’m always happy to be more ‘hands-on’ with my employees.” She chuckled at her own joke.

“Y-you check their bodies…?” It was both assuring and concerning to hear how seriously Frauke took her carnal business.

“Of course I do. I gotta make sure my girls are gonna be able to satisfy their clients.”

“Couldn’t you just ask them or something?”

“Nah, I learn a lot more by fucking ‘em.”

“... What?”

I was beginning to wonder if her offer to take my virginity was actually a joke...

“I sleep with my prostitutes before I let them see any johns,” Frauke confirmed. “Gotta make sure they know what they’re doing and whatnot. And in my opinion, if a girl can get me off, they’ll have no trouble with any of our customers.”

“B-but... how does that work?” I asked, quite unsure I wanted to hear the answer.

“What, sex between two women?”

“Y-yeah. I mean, is that even possible?”

“Aw, Cassy, there’s a lot of fun that can only be had between two girls. I could tell you all about it if you’d like.”

“... Never mind.”

“Have it your way,” she sighed dejectedly. “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I test the gigolos too. Only have two of those guys on staff, but I still expect a certain level of quality in my brothel. Wouldn’t want the other half of my clientbase to feel left out, would I?”

I shake my head. Rough and loose. If Frauke understood the concept of boundaries, she was completely indifferent to them. I had to wonder if she was always this lewd or if running a whorehouse had made her so overtly sexual.

In a way, it was just impressive. Before today, I had never spoken to anyone about even gentle romance. Now I was getting a crash course in fetishes and previously unknown domains of intercourse. She wasn’t just erotic, Frauke was a specialist in sexual relationships. Perfectly lecherous, it was as if she was always destined to be a mistress. Such a singular fixation on sex would cause even a saint to take interest.

She was so pure in her vulgarity, it actually left me jealous.

“Um, Frauke?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever… ashamed of how you act?” I question as softly as possible.

She stopped walking and stared at me pensively. The grass of the plains swayed with a gentle breeze as I uncomfortably looked back at Frauke. I was sure Nutsack was confused by our sudden pause, but after everything we had discussed, I had to know this one answer.

Because if she could be happy with her lurid self, then maybe I could learn to accept my weak nature as well.

Frauke watched me carefully for a few moments more, then took a deep breath. With an increasingly familiar smirk, she finally spoke.

“No, but I know why you think I should be,” she stated without any sign of resentment.

“I mean, I don’t want you to feel bad, but…”

“But how do I live with myself when every word out of my mouth is disgusting?”

I grimaced. “Y-yeah. Aren’t you worried about people hating you for being so indecent?”

“Cassy, let me share some wisdom with you,” obliged Frauke. “No matter what you do, someone in the world is going to hate you.”

“Huh?” My brow knit with confusion.

“Listen, kid, I’m well aware of the kind of person I am. I own a whorehouse and a bar, a real den of debauchery. I say things people don’t want to hear and do things that make them uncomfortable. In fact, I have to curb my language in the whorehouse just so I don’t scare off horny guys. If it wasn’t to keep my business intact, I wouldn’t even bother.”

“So... how do you put up with everyone judging you then?”

“Because if I have to pretend to be someone else just to make sure I don’t discomfort some goody two-shoes dickheads, then I might as well just gut myself now,” she said with a shrug. “Even if I gave up my business and became a nun, someone would still condemn me. Someone’s always going to say I’m the bad guy no matter how I choose to act. And if that’s the case, then why not just do whatever makes me happy?”

“I-is that really okay?”

“Why not? I’m the only person I have to spend my life with, so I ought to make sure it’s a good relationship. Besides, loving yourself is often the first step to being loved by someone else. If someone doesn’t like me being happy with myself, then perhaps there’s actually something wrong with them.”

“...”

I wanted to tell her she was just selfish or hedonistic, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words. But it wasn’t due to fear or anything. It was because I could see the merits of her ideology. What Frauke said echoed in my mind and left me questioning my life.

Did I love myself? Did I even like myself?

I was constantly reminded of how weak and unwanted I was in Galiebte. Shunned merely for being a foreigner and too weak to do anything about it, I had already resigned myself to a spineless life. I told myself I was lucky to just be alive, but now something gnawed at me and assured that that wasn’t good enough.

Would it be wrong for me to be a little more selfish? To stop caring about the apathetic stares of the locals? I relied on others, but perhaps I had let that become an excuse to not support myself more. Maybe there was value in living more internally…

I looked at Frauke. Again, I was left envious of another’s strength.

“... You’re pretty wise, Frauke,” I said quietly.

“Heh, thanks. But saying it like that makes it sound like you thought I was stupid.”

“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just-”

“I’m kidding, Cassy,” she grinned. “I am happy to see you speaking with a little more backbone, though.”

I tilted my head at her. “You… what?”

“You’re too modest for your own good. It’s as if you’re barely there, like you’re too afraid to be a real person so you just act like what you think will make other people like you. It actually kinda pisses me off.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

“That’s what I mean. You immediately give up your ground at the slightest confrontation. Of course, that’s why I’ve been egging you on this entire time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, so everything you said… was just that meant for me?”

Frauke shook her head. “Fuck no, that’s how I genuinely feel. I just figured showing you how a selfish bitch acts might do you some good. And considering how you’ve opened up, I’m thinking all you needed was a little dirty talk to get you moving.”

“...”

I looked at ground and toyed with my pack’s strap. I felt exposed. She had me pegged from the start while I was foolishly underestimating her.

“... So you were trying to help me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m not sure “trying” is the right word. It was more like I felt just being around my filthy self could be a good influence on you.”

“That’s a bit ironic, isn’t it?”

“Hey, I might talk like a sailor, deal in prostitutes, and have a history of threatening to castrate guys, but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad influence.”

Frauke leered at me knowingly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now that’s a good laugh, Cassy,” she commented with a smirk. “C’mon, let’s get moving again. Nutsack’s getting antsy and I’m sure Uncle Albino’s already set the table for his guests. We can talk some more while we walk, alright?”

I smiled even wider. “Right!”

With that, we returned to following Frauke’s massive dog. As we walked across the plain, I continued to think on our discussion.

I had completely misjudged Frauke. I had thought she was just some carefree pervert who craved adventure, but it seems I was the one who was too shallow. She had immediately figured me out and made it her business to try and crack my shell.

My perception of her had flipped on its head. Before, I was exasperated by her crass words and forceful personality. Now I admired Frauke for those same traits. Understanding that her attitude came from being honest with herself left me embarrassed by my own persona. Being so meek had done me little good. Seeing how proud Frauke was of her inappropriate self left me wanting.

            I needed to find a way to strengthen myself.

But before I could ask my companion for more advice, she reignited our conversation with a new topic.

            “So Cassy, what country are you from?” she asked, looking at me with interest.

            As much as I would have liked to push my own questions, I could feel the air wasn’t suited for it any longer. But I wasn't worried. Like Frauke said, we had all day. I’m sure I’d get another opportunity to bring up self-improvement ideas.

            “Vassern,” I answered.

            “Vassern… Vassern…” Frauke searched her memories. “Oh, shit, that’s far to the West, right?”

            “Yeah, past the desert.”

            “That’s right, ‘hair as silver as the sands’. Forgot that old adage.”

            “I’ve never heard that one.”

            “They pass it around in Keustaat. Lot of the guys there thought western girls were a sort of exotic delicacy.”

            “Keustaat’s the country just a little south from here, right? Did you go there in the past?” I asked.

            “Nope. I was born there.”

            “Really? But you look like you’re from Rotteland.”

            “My dad was a traveler,” explained Frauke. “He visited Keustaat and fucked my mom before he disappeared to God-knows-where.”

            “Oh. So then what made you move back to Rotteland?”

            “I got tired of Keustaat after my stint in the military. My mom died ten years ago, so I didn’t have much of a reason to stick around. Land was pretty cheap here and the local duke took a liking to me, so I immigrated with my husband.”

            I was intrigued to hear that Frauke was also technically a foreigner. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t seem to have much trouble speaking with me. Though she could actually blend in with the locals, she could likely sympathize with…

            Wait a minute, did she just say “husband”?

            “W-wait,” I sputtered, “you’re married?!”

            “Hm?” She looked at me confusedly, then glanced at her hand. “Oh, right, you can’t see the ring under my glove. Though I could have sworn I mentioned that before…”

            “You certainly didn’t!”

            “Cassy, I know you’ve got a crush on me, but you shouldn’t make such a big fuss. Surely you’re not that surprised a woman my age is taken?”

            “That’s not the problem!” I cried out. “You told me you, er, s-sleep with your prostitutes!”

            “Yeah, so?”

            “Doesn’t that make your husband upset?!”

            “And?

            “You don’t care?!”

            Frauke laughed. “Alright, alright, calm down, Cassy, I’m just playing with you.”

            I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh… you’re joking around again…”

            “Yup. My husband doesn’t mind that I fuck our whores. In fact, he joins in more often than not.”

            Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. Like there was ever a chance Frauke was going to have a normal marriage...

            I let out a heavy sigh of resignation. “Okay, so… how does that work? N-not the s-sex, but your marriage,” I reluctantly asked.

            “Boo on you, Cassy, preempting me like that…” Frauke pouted. “Fine, I suppose it does demand a little explanation. It’s a bit of a long story though.”

            “I don’t mind. Like you’ve said, we’ve probably got a lot of time.”

            “Wow, now you’re even directing our conversation! My, they grow up so fast…”

            I gave Frauke a small scowl. Though I was a bit proud she noticed me being more active in our conversation, I didn’t need to be teased about it.

            “Anyways,” she said, indifferent to my expression, “It all started after I was honorably discharged from some Keustaat Count’s personal military. I got my arm blown off in an accident and was deemed unsuited for further duty. I met my husband a little after that.”

            “How did you two meet?”

            “In a bar,” she chuckled. “Once I lost my place in the military, I got really fucking depressed and started drinking heavily. I didn’t really have anything else in life at the time, so I figured getting shit-faced was the best plan.”

            “That seems kind of… dumb.”

            “Yeah, but it made me feel better. Kind of.”

            “So was your husband another drinker like you?” I pressed.

            “Nope, he was the bartender at my favorite tap. Don’t know why, but I didn’t realize how cute he was until after I was out of the army. Or maybe suddenly having a lot more free time on my hands let me actually notice him. Either way, I started hitting on him every time I went there.”

            “And you started seeing each other from there?”

            “Not a chance,” Frauke said with a grin, on the verge of laughing. “He kept ignoring me, so I got more direct and started openly asking if he wanted to go fuck someplace. And everytime he’d… hehe… he’d…”

            It was too much for her. Frauke burst out in wild laughter, gaining concerned looks from myself and Nutsack.

            “What did he do?” I demanded, neeing to know what had put her in stitches.

            “He’d… he’d…” She continued to giggle, but she stopped to take a deep breath and almost calmed herself down. “Okay… So, I’d ask him if wanted to fuck, right? And instead of saying “oh God, yes” like every other man, he’d… he’d say “no, you’re too ugly”!”

            This time, she doubled over in her fit of humor. Her chest convulsed as new waves of laughter shook her frame.

            I could only stare in confusion.

            “I’m sorry, but I think I might be missing the joke…”

            Tears had welled in Frauke’s eyes as she glanced up at me, grinning from ear to ear. With a sigh, she straightened herself back up and started walking again, giggling all the while. I moved alongside her, still waiting for the punchline.

            “Ah, I guess maybe it’s something a young man can’t understand,” she said nostalgically. “It’s just that I had never had a guy turn me down so harshly before. It cracks me the fuck up when I think about how brutal he was.”

            “I would have said he was being mean.”

            “He was, but there was a reason for that. Of course, I thought he was just really turned off by my scars back then. But I didn’t give up. If anything, my dumb ass just tried harder to get his attention.”

            “And he eventually caved, right?”

I figured it was a logical assumption, considering they were now married. However, like the rest of Frauke, her story defied my expectations. She looked at me with a devious smile before she spoke.

            “Nope. One day, he got fed up and finally told me he was married. He just didn’t wear his ring back then. He kept telling me I was ugly so I’d leave him alone.”

            I furrowed my brow. “Wait, if your husband was already married, then how did you end up with him?”

            “All in good time, Cassy,” Frauke hushed. “So after he says that, I’m heartbroken, of course. I stop hitting on him, I stop going to that bar, hell, I stopped drinking. I was too fucking sad to even bother getting drunk, if you can believe it.”

            “I can’t, especially considering how hard you were just laughing.”

            “So then I don’t see him for half a year. I’m kind of just existing at that point. My military pension covered all my needs, so I pretty much just sat around and stayed miserable, thinking I was now some kind of maimed wretch. Then I get asked to join in some parade to represent our military’s veterans, and I agree to go.”

            “That’s a bit surprising. Were you more fond of formal events back then?” I asked.

            “Not really. I just didn’t have a good enough reason to say no. But I’m pretty sure that was fate intervening at that point.”

            “What happened?”

            “Well, we’re marching along, trumpets blaring and all that shit. Midway through, I’m kind of wishing I hadn’t signed up for this. Then, guess who I saw on the street.”

            “Your husband?”

            “Yup,” nodded Frauke. “We locked eyes for only a split second, but that was all the reason I needed to break formation and go talk to him. I think someone yelled at me, but I really didn’t care at that point.”

            “Did he recognize you?”

            “Of course. This eye of mine is pretty memorable. Still, he agreed to go get a drink with me. We go to the nearest pub and order lunch. I was pretty surprised he accepted my invitation, but I could tell there was something different about him. He seemed kind of distant and wounded, like something had hurt him deeply. As you could assume, I zoned in on that and started pestering him.”

            Like you had done with me, I silently mused.

            “So I kept digging and asking questions, and eventually he tells me that he got divorced. Part of me’s kind of happy, like ‘oh man, now I have a shot’, but then I ask him what happened.”

            “And what was the reason?”

            “He cheated on his wife. With about two dozen girls. Over the course of three months.”

            I looked at Frauke with shock and disgust. “What?! How could he do that?!”

            “I know, most guys couldn’t dream of getting that much pussy. I was impressed to say the least.”

            “C’mon, you know that’s not what I meant,” I said annoyedly. “I meant ‘how could he do that to his wife’.”

            “Pretty easily,” she scoffed. “He never wanted to marry her in the first place, but he didn’t have the heart to turn her down. He ended up going through with the whole even though he didn’t want to. Ironically, his lack of willpower resulted in a lot more misery in the end.”

            “So why on earth would you want anything to with a guy like that?”

            “Because I didn’t dislike him for what he had done. If anything, I sympathized. He was just trying to make himself happy. Unfortunately, he was a dumbass about the whole thing and ended up hurting a few people, himself included.”

            “I can see the similarities, but isn’t there a big difference between having a foul mouth and being an adulterer?” I countered.

            “Look, Cassy, my husband never wanted to get married. He liked that untied lifestyle, free to fuck anyone he desired, but he messed up and put himself in a corner. There were better solutions to his problems, sure, but what’s done is done. I wasn’t gonna kick him while he was down.”

            We began climbing up a new hill as we walked. I had a hard time accepting Frauke’s views. She had a point in that he simply wanted to be happy, but I felt she was being too forgiving. There had to be a line drawn somewhere.

            “Anyways, he then apologized for calling me ugly so much,” said Frauke. “He apparently was just trying to avoid the temptations I was dropping on him. I told him not to worry, but then he wouldn’t shut up about how awful he felt saying such things to a one-armed girl. I got a little annoyed, but that conversation gave me the chance to get to know him better. Once he had a bit of liquor in him, we started talking about our personal lives. What I did back in the military, what he did before bartending, et cetera. And wouldn’t you know it, we actually had a lot more in common than being crappy people.”

            “And they lived happily ever after…” I said sarcastically.

            “Ha! Not quite,” smirked Frauke. “We ended up going on a few more dates before I decided I was actually in love with him. Of course, that was kind of a problem since I doubted he had changed his views on marriage.”

            “So what did you do?”

            “We had a long talk one night. I told him about how I felt and that I wanted to propose to him. He made it clear he was against the idea. So I then asked if he’d be okay with getting married if he was still free to sleep with whoever he pleases. Fucker thought it was some kind of joke until I pulled out the ring.” She fondly looked down at her own hand. “We got married the next week.”

            “...”

“After that, we had the idea of moving to Rotteland and starting our own business. I cashed out my pension, crossed the border, and purchased an old, unused manse by the crossroads. We originally just turned it into a bar, but horny customers kept asking to ‘borrow’ the spare rooms, so that led to me hiring a few whores, and you can figure out the rest.”

Frauke let out a satisfied sigh with her conclusion. She looked at me expectantly, but I didn’t say anything.

I never would have thought she would want anything to do with a known adulterer. Frauke seemed to value honesty, so a man who could cruelly deceive his beloved seemed like the sort she’d burn at the stake. But instead, she fell in love with such a liar.

“So… has it been a good marriage?” I finally asked.

“For the most part. We’ve had our ups and downs, but things always work out in the end. Neither of us have ever considered getting divorced if that says anything.”

“Does he ever… well, I guess ‘cheat’ doesn’t apply, so does he sleep with other women a lot?”

“Not really.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise.

“He’ll fuck one of our whores maybe once or twice a month, but otherwise, I’m the only girl he’ll lay,” Frauke elaborated.

“Isn’t that kind of strange?” I inquired. “He sounds like a horndog so I would have thought he’d take advantage of working in a brothel.”

“I don’t think my husband was horny, Cassy. I think he was just venting.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“He was frustrated that he had pledged himself to just one woman even though his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t cheat on her out of malice or anything,” Frauke said calmly. “It was more like he regretted giving up his choices in life too soon. So, I think that’s why our marriage works where his previous one failed. I told him I didn’t care if he and I never fucked as long as I was first in his heart, but now he spends all his time with me like some contrarian bastard. It turns out he didn’t need to sleep with as many girls as possible. He just wanted the freedom.”

I looked at Frauke with narrowed eyes. “Is that… reasonable?”

“Probably not, but few people are. More importantly, it works for us. If he gets the urge to go fuck a stranger, he can, though he’s usually satisfied with just trying out the new girls with me. Likewise, I bagged a man who has no problem with me and my undainty self. I can do whatever I want and not have to worry about looking like a good wife.”

“So your marriage works because you tolerate each other’s flaws?”

“Love isn’t about finding the perfect person, Cassy. It’s about finding the perfect person for you.”

I could understand that idea, in fact, that wasn’t the first time I’ve heard. But it was the first time I’d seen such a prime example of two unusual folk meeting up and falling in love. In a way, it was endearing. Though I disliked the concept of an adulterer being pardoned for his actions, I could see that that man was just what Frauke wanted.

I suppose romance truly was an unpredictable joy.

“Well… I guess I’m happy for you?” I offered.

“Thanks, kid. I’m pretty happy myself,” Frauke smirked. “I’ve got a nice home, a good business, and a loving husband with a nice ass. I’m not about to complain.”

“What’s your husband’s name anyways? I don’t think you mentioned it.”

“Oh, it’s Felix. Sorry about that, I’m in the habit of just calling him “my husband” since some of the johns like the idea that maybe I’m lying and I’m actually available.”

“Does he work at your establishment as well?”

“Of course. I mean, you’ve met him already. He’s the bartender.”

I twitched with realization. Indeed, that should have been obvious, especially after hearing her story. Still, it was a bit hard to believe that laconic mountain of a man was married to the loud-mouthed Frauke.

“Wait, I thought you said he was cute,” I said with suspicion.

“You saying my husband isn’t adorable?” Frauke glared at me. I balked at the fire in her eyes.

“W-well, I guess I’m just not seeing it…”

She dropped back into a good-humored grin. “Heh, it’s fine. He’s a little more raggedy than he was ten years ago, but I assure you, he’s still the lovable teddy bear I can’t keep my hands off of.”

“... I’ll take your word for it.”

A strange woman with a strange husband in a strange marriage. I guess it made sense. More than anything, it left me thinking of my own chances at love. Though Frauke assured me it was normal for me to be inexperienced in relationships at my age, hearing her story left me yearning for a romance of my own. And if she was right about finding the perfect person for me, then perhaps I just needed the courage to seek them out.

            Just as our discussion had ended, so did the fields of green we had been traversing. The grass started breaking up and revealing patches of grey earth. Different breeds of trees rose from the hard soil and large boulders appeared haphazardly, proof that we were passing into more mountainous territory.

            Nutsack wasn’t affected by this change of terrain at all. He continued to follow some invisible trail, always staying about a dozen feet ahead of us. As we progressed, Frauke looked up at the sky and grunted.

            “Hmph, it’s nearing noon. Are you feeling hungry at all, Cassy?” she asked.

            “A bit. Do you think we should take a break?”

            “Why not. There’s a big ass tree over there that’s just begging to be used for a picnic. Let’s rest our feet for a minute.”

            With that, we wandered away from Nutsack’s guidance and headed towards the tree. Frauke ordered her dog to “time out”, so the beast stopped leading and instead followed at his master’s heels.

            Once at the tree, I set my pack down and plopped onto the ground. Frauke took her sword off of her hip and leaned against the tree, slowly lowering herself into a seated position. Her dog sat down next to her, panting and staring with those big, blue eyes.

            “What kind of food you got?” Frauke asked as she leered at my pack.

            “Fruit and bread mostly. And water.”

            “Spare a bite for a wounded veteran?” she begged with feigned feebleness.

            I let out a small laugh. “Sure. It’s the least I can do for you.”

            “You’re wonderful, Cassy. I promise I’ll probably remember you.”

            “Um… thanks?”

            I passed a pair of hardened rolls, an apple, and a skin of water to Frauke. She gave one of the rolls to Nutsack and bit into her apple. I munched on my own snacks in the meantime, enjoying the delicate tartness of some blackberries.

            While her dog gnawed on the bread, Frauke took a swig of water and looked at me with deep curiosity. I tried to ignore her gaze, but my discomfort eventually demanded that I find out what had gripped her attention.

            “Is something the matter?” I asked.

            Frauke refocused and relaxed her expression. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how interesting your hair is.”

            “Really?” I reflexively ran a hand through across my scalp. “It causes me nothing but trouble back in Galiebte.”

            “Yeah, Rottelanders are a paranoid bunch. Can’t blame ‘em too much, though, since it was a foreign legion that brought them a plague half a century ago.”

            “Sure, but that wasn’t my fault. I think I would have gone elsewhere if I had known how judgmental they would be,” I grumbled.

            “How’d you end up in Galiebte, anyways?”

            I paused, unsure if I wanted to recall such rough memories. Though I had resolved to become a stronger, more engaging person, there were still things I didn’t want to discuss. However, I knew there would be little point in trying to hide it. I’m sure that Frauke would just hound me until I gave in if I tried to dodge the question.

            “Mr. Wieland said I’m what’s called a “refugee”,” I said reluctantly. “I had to flee my home after an invasion force burned my village down.”

            “You crossed a desert to escape a war?” Frauke asked with a raised eyebrow.

            “Not on foot. I hitched a ride with a trade caravan. They dropped me off in Galiebte, which is where I met Mr. Wieland.”

            “Ah. Tell me more about your hometown.”

            I grimaced. “I’d… rather not.”

            “Still hurts, huh?”

            “... Yeah. Thinking about it… it’s…”

            I trailed off. Images flashed through my mind. Houses on fire. Blood on the walls. A severed hand twitching. The last things I saw before I turned my back on my home and ran away.

            Like a damned coward.

            “You don’t have to tell me more,” Frauke assured. “But if it’s not too hard, can you share what happened? I don’t need the details, just basic facts will do.”

            I shook my head. “Again, I’d rather not.”

            “Are you sure? I’ve met more than a few guys who were fucked up by war, Cassy. In my experience, it’ll be harder to move past your trauma if you never talk about it.”

            As I suspected, she wouldn’t be satisfied with such scant information. I could feel that Frauke thought she was helping, but I couldn’t see the good in opening old wounds. But it was too late, she had caught a whiff of my trepidation, fueling her desire to root out the story behind such an anxiety.

            “Fine.” I sighed. I stared emptily at my handful of berries, trying to keep myself as detached as possible. “A year ago, some foreign army attacked. I don’t know what country they belonged to, I couldn’t even see their faces. They set our homes on fire, killed the men, and… and...”

            “... Raped the women?” she finished for me.

            “Y-yeah...”

            “How’d you escape?”

            “I ran. I saw what they did to my home… so I just ran away. I ran all night until I got to the next town. I then begged a caravan leader to take me wherever he was going. I didn’t care where, I just needed to get away from those invaders.”

            I put my food away. I had completely lost my appetite.

            “Smart. They probably would have killed you too. Best case scenario, they might have sold you to slavers or worse.”

            “... I guess.”

            Frauke narrowed her eyes. “You don’t feel like you did the right thing?”

            I looked at the dirt, sliding my boot across its dusty surface. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m still alive.”

            “Do you feel guilty about surviving when no one else did?”

            “... I don’t know.”

            “Well, you shouldn’t,” Frauke said flatly. “War is incredibly unfair. It kills without consideration or mercy. I’m sure your family’s happy to know that you made it out of there.”

            I twinged as I thought of their faces. My heart ached as I remembered them. It was painful to know that they were around anymore. That they had been reduced to blood and ash. I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

            “... You know plenty about war, don’t you?” I muttered without looking at Frauke.

            “I do. I joined the military when I was sixteen and stayed with them until I was thirty,” she replied. Thankfully, she had accepted the segue and didn’t push me to continue my recollections. “I went on a few campaigns, made the nation proud, and earned my place as commander. I know just how fucked up war really is. Politicians like to paint it as some sort of necessity, and sometimes it is, but way too often is it just a means to take what others have.”

            “Then why did you join the military?”

            “I didn’t know all that back then. I was just a scrappy bitch looking for a paycheck when I enlisted. It wasn’t until I got promoted to lieutenant that I got to start dealing with all the background politics and saw war for what it really was.”

            “But you continued to serve after that,” I said coldly.

            “Yup. I’m sure it pisses you off, but waging war was what kept my mom and I fed. I couldn’t just walk away, especially not after people started relying on me to lead them in battle. The military might have been a flawed beast, but it also gave me a place to belong.”

            “I guess that makes sense. You did say you were really depressed after you got discharged.”

            “Right. In a lot of ways, it felt like I was abandoning my men. That probably wasn’t how they saw it, but it still pained me. I took care of my guys and they respected me in turn. A happy little family.” Frauke then chuckled. “Hey, you wanna hear a theory, Cassy?”

            That was quite the sharp change in tone, but it was better than going back and talking about my own past again. “Sure, I think…?”

            “I’m pretty sure the fact that I was popular with my men is what got my arm blown off.”

            I turned to face my companion. “What? How?”

            “You see, I served under a lord named Count Egon,” explained Frauke. “I’ll cut to the chase: the guy was an asshole. Textbook God complex. Anyways, he thought he was hot shit and was constantly trying to get on the good side of every other Keustaat lord. The reason I went on so many campaigns was because he loaned us out at the drop of a hat. I think I only fought once to defend Egon’s territory. Every other time, it was for some other noble who had pissed off his neighbors.”

            “He sounds like a real class act. And I’m guessing you just put up with him so you could stay with your men, right?” I sneered.

            “Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed. “But as time went on, Egon made it clear he didn’t like me. Mind you, I held my tongue around him and followed military discipline and shit. He just didn’t like me because my men respected me more than him.”

            “So how did that lead to you losing your arm?”

            “You’ve heard of cannons, right?”

            “No.”

            “Firearms at all?”

            “Nope.”

            “Lucky kid,” nodded Frauke. “Well, they’re these weapons that launch heavy metal balls through use of a controlled explosion. Firearm is kind of the catchall term for this breed, and cannons are the largest amongst them.”

            “Yeah, I’ve never heard of them. Are they rare or something?” I questioned.

            “They’re mostly just too damn expensive to be worth using when you can arm a whole battalion with sabers at the same price. Problem is that they’re fucking powerful enough to make up for it. Personally, I’m not a fan of seeing that anyone wield that kind of destructive potential, but there are plenty of people that think otherwise. I doubt they’ll be mass-produced in my lifetime though, thankfully.”

            “They sound really dangerous.”

            “They are, so stay away from them if you can,” she advised. “But I’m getting off topic. What happened is that Egon got his hands on a cannon and invited me, as commander of his army, to come inspect the damned thing. I had only heard of cannons before and never saw one in action, so I stupidly agreed to check it out. I’m looking down the barrel, marvelling at it, when I start to hear this hissing. I ask about the noise, get a suspicious excuse from Egon, and happen to move just in time before the fucking thing fires.”

            “Wait, so it exploded on you?” I asked confusedly.

            “Sort of. What happened, I suspect, is that Egon lit the fuse that set off the cannon with the intent to kill me. Unfortunately for him, I moved just enough that it only blew off my arm and half my face instead of killing me.”

            “That sounds… horrifying…”

            “It hurt more than anything. I’ve been slashed and stabbed more than a few times, but losing an entire limb was a whole ‘nother beast. Luckily, there were a couple medics nearby who were able to stop my bleeding and get me to a chirurgeon. They managed to patch me up, but while I’m lying there in the clinic, fucking Egon shows up, pins a medal on me, and ‘honorably’ discharges me.”

            “Wow,” I groused sympathetically. “I take it you called him out on that.”

            “Oh, I tore him a new asshole,” Frauke growled. “I accused him of trying to kill me in front of everyone who showed up, which included most of my officers. Egon apparently didn’t expect that because he nearly froze up before arguing that I was delusional from shock. The nail in the coffin was when I pointed out that he had no reason to retire me because I still had my sword arm. After that, he stormed out and refused to speak to me directly.”

            “I’m surprised you left it at that.”

            “I didn’t, not really at least. Ironically, Egon’s dickheadedness inspired me to open my bar and later brothel. He was into puritan ideals, so he had banned prostitution and put severe limits on alcohol sales. Considering Galiebte is only a few miles north of his territory, I consider Stummelschwanz to be my final ‘fuck you’.”

            “So your business is pretty much your revenge. I’m glad it’s worked out for you, but aren’t you worried about that count doing something about it?” I asked.

            “Nope. The local duke loves me and my brothel. Egon’s an asshole, but he’s not stupid enough to incite war with Rotteland over an old grudge. He just has to sit there and know that his former commander opened a whorehouse just outside his jurisdiction. A pretty good act of vengeance if you ask me.” Frauke grinned widely, quite satisfied with her actions.

            “Vengeance, huh…”

            To hurt those who hurt you. It was the epitome of justice. A form of regulation the world naturally imposed upon itself. When someone stole from you, it was only right for you take it back. Whether it was gold, blood, or sentiment, it didn’t matter. You just needed to be strong enough to get your revenge.

            “So Cassy, do you want revenge on those people who destroyed your home?”

            A flash of indignation darted through me and I glared at Frauke. She looked back at me with cold appraisal, eyeing me as if I was a fruit ripening for harvest. I went back to staring at the ground, cooling myself off as I considered her question.

            It was no lie that I hated them. They killed my family and burned our home to the ground, forcing me to flee and live a life of craven subservience. I would have loved nothing more than for them to suffer the same torture I had. To know that each and every one of those soldiers had lost everything dear to them would be a sweet ambrosia.

            I wanted them to bleed until they were dry. I wanted them to drown in their own tears. But I knew I couldn’t make that happen.

            I was simply too weak.

            Like honesty, revenge was a privilege only enjoyed by the strong. People like me couldn’t hope to get back at the ones who had hurt them. Justice was only a dream, a petty wish that amounted to nothing more than disappointment. The truth was that those soldiers had likely gone home to their families, gloated about their ‘victory’, and continued to live contently. They thrived by denying me what little happiness I could have had.

            A victim had no claim to anything. I was just a powerless wimp, a body that had failed to die when it should have. Revenge was an impossibility.

            “... No, I don’t,” I quietly answered Frauke.

            “Why not?”

            “Because there’s no point. There’s no way I’d be able to get revenge on them. It’s better if I just let it go now.”

            “So you forgive them?” she persisted, her tone incredulous.

            “No!” I snapped with irritation. “Of course I don’t! But what do you expect me to do?! I’m not a soldier or a count! I couldn’t fight back then and I can’t do anything now! My only choice is to try and move on in the hopes that I don’t have to deal with something like that again!”

            “That’s not your only choice. That’s just your excuse to not try harder.”

            “What are you talking about?” I could feel my anger showing plainly on my face.

            “You could have stayed and died with your family,” Frauke said indifferently. “Or you could have spent the past year training yourself in combat, perhaps even gathering like-minded individuals. But you instead resigned yourself to a quiet life of serving as Wieland’s lackey.”

            “I told you, I’m not a fighter…” I growled.

            “Yes, I can see that. But you could have become one if you tried. Instead you just amounted to a cowardly little shit.”

            I opened my mouth to retort, but immediately faltered. What had happened to Frauke? She had been so kind earlier, but now she hounded me with uncompromising intensity. Her tone was completely different to when she lectured with the intent of helping me open up.

Her words were now laced with a genuine apathy.

            “Let me ask you something, Cassy,” she continued without a hint of concern. “What do you think strength is?”

            I frowned. “Why are you changing the subject? Are you-”

            “Shut the fuck up and answer the question.”

            Frauke’s eyes burned with loathing. She stared down at me like I was little more than a stain. My small amount of obstinance was nothing against such an overwhelmingly intimidating aura. Part of me wanted to just grab my things and get away from her, but I managed to hold my ground. Walking away would just confirm her assertions.

            As pointless as it would be, I’d share with her the true meaning of strength.

            “Fine then,” I growled. “Strength is the ability do what you need and what you want. It’s what lets you shape the world around you and make decisions. It’s the strong who decide what’s just, what’s normal, and who lives. Similarly, the weak lack all of that. They just have to accept the wills of the strong and hope they don’t affect them too badly.”

            “So strength is absolute?” Frauke pressed.

            “Of course it is. Without power, you can’t do anything. If you’re not strong enough, then you can get revenge and have your justice. You can’t fight back against judgment or save anyone. If you’re weak, then you might as well be a hen surrounded by wolves.”

            Frauke nodded, seeming to mull over my words. After a few seconds of silence, she smiled at me. “Okay, I understand now.”

            I narrowed my eyes. “... You do?”

            “Yeah. You had me fooled there for awhile, but I can see that you’re quite different from my assumptions.”

            “What do you mean?” I asked skeptically.

            “Oh, back when we first met, I thought you were a pretty smart kid,” she spat sarcastically. “But now I know you’re actually a fucking idiot.”

            As if to illustrate her newfound disgust for me, Frauke rose to her feet. She slid her sword back onto her belt and started walking away. Without hesitation or the need for a command, Nutsack got up with her and padded alongside his master.

            “Wh-where are you going?!” I demanded, quickly trying to get my belongings back in order.

            “I’m gonna go find Uncle Albino,” Frauke called over her shoulder. “You can go home. I don’t need a self-titled weakling like you slowing me down any longer.”

            “What?! No, wait!”

            I hurriedly closed up my pack and slung it onto my back. Shoving myself upright, I sprinted to catch up with Frauke. I quickly moved next to her and matched her pace, but she didn’t even look at me.

            “What the fuck are you doing, Cassy?” she asked annoyedly.

            “You can’t just leave me behind,” I panted. “I’m the one who wanted to find Uncle Albino, it’s not right for me to go home!””

            “Why not? We both knew you were dead weight from the beginning. Just think of it as you doing me a favor.”

            “Frauke, did… did I say something wrong?” I looked at her pleadingly. “I-I’m really sorry if I offended you, I just-”

            “Shut. Up. This isn’t like before, Cassy. I’m not pulling some trick to help you.” She finally turned to face me. Her eyes were filled with a deep revulsion. “I don’t want you around anymore. Go home.”

            I was left agape. I tried to think over what I had said to her, but I can’t imagine any of my words angering her this much. She had gladly married an adulterer and willingly served a noble she hated. What on earth could I have done to make her storm off on me?

            “C-can you please tell me what I did wrong, at least? I thought we were getting along…”

            “It’s nothing you’ve done, Cassy. It’s how absolutely fucked in the head you are. I can’t stand to be near someone so pathetic.”

            “P-pathetic…?” I knew I was meek, but I thought Frauke didn’t mind that part of me. If anything, it was the key to why she had pushed me to open up.

            “Yeah. I thought that maybe you just hadn’t found your spine yet, but I guess that was because I didn’t want to believe you were actually that pitiful,” she mocked.

            “But I thought you figured that out when we met! You said that’s why you forced me to talk more!”

            “Oh, I definitely knew you were a pussy. But what you said back there… aw shit, I just wanna break your nose now.”

            “Frauke, please, tell me what I said that was so reprehensible,” I begged. “I didn’t want to make you mad!”

            “Oh for God’s sake, Cassy, can’t you figure it out?!” Frauke barked as she suddenly stopped. “What pisses me off so much is that you’ve already given up!”

            I froze in place as my face contorted with befuddlement. My companion glared at me angrily, her hand resting on the pommel of her weapon.

“”G… given up”?” I asked unassuredly.

            “Yeah, you’ve given up. Despite having so much ahead of you, you’ve already quit.”

            “B-but… I didn’t quit. I’m still out here.”

            “Not this little field drip, dipshit,” she derided with exasperation. “I meant everything. Revenge, your future, your self. You’re so goddamn young, but since you’ve already decided you’re done with life, you might as well off yourself tomorrow.”

            “What?!” Frauke was an aggressive woman, but I never expected even she would utter such harsh words. “Listen, I know I’ve angered you, but you’re going too far!”

            “I don’t think so. What’s the meaning in your life if you aren’t going to take part in it? You would have been better off as a weed. At least then you could have served a purpose as feed for the cattle.”

            “Frauke, calm down!”

            “Listen up, Cassy,” she said sternly. “I don’t give a shit how weak or inept you are. I don’t care if you think you’ll never get back at the people who killed your family or whatever. But the moment you decide that your weakness means you shouldn’t even dream of revenge, then you’re actually worthless. Being incapable is one thing, but to deny yourself even the thought of overcoming the odds is just unforgivable.”

            I couldn’t stay calm any longer. “So you think I should I waste my time daydreaming about getting revenge on a bunch of unknown soldiers, despite how impossible it is, just so I can say I haven’t given up on the idea?! You think it’s better to pretend I have a chance than learn to deal with my problems?!”

            “This is what irritates me so much. You’ve let your past trauma infect every aspect of your life. You’ve become a defeatist who just accepts whatever comes his way, telling yourself you can’t do anything because you’re so weak. Instead of improving yourself, you’ve decided you’re a victim who wants to be pitied. You refuse to work harder or try anything to take back the reins in your own goddamn existence. It’s enough to make me vomit.”

            “You don’t understand!” I shouted. My face grew hot as tears welled up in my eyes. “You can’t! You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything!”

            “You’re right. I don’t,” Frauke answered coldly. “But I know what it’s like to lose what’s important to me. I know what it’s like to be bullied by those in power and what it’s like to come from jack shit.”

            “Don’t act like you know what I’ve gone through!”

            “Don’t act like you’re special,” she countered. “Everyone suffers. My own mom gave birth to a kid she didn’t want, whored herself out to feed that brat, then died when some disease rotted her brain. But unlike you, she never once used her troubles as a crutch. Even after she forgot who I was, she still talked about finding my dad and kicking his ass. She refused to give up even though life had fucked her at every turn.”

            I grit my teeth angrily. Frauke wasn’t even playing playing fair now. Anything I said to argue would now come off as inconsiderate and selfish. I was well aware that everyone has their own troubles, but it felt petty to continue trying to explain how she didn’t understand what I had been through.

            Worse yet, I could feel the tears rolling down my face. I wiped them away, but it was far too late. Knowing that Frauke had seen me cry only compounded my frustration. I’m sure she felt particularly justified in calling me pathetic now.

            “You get what I’m saying, Cassy?” she continued, still plainly annoyed. “It’s not about actually getting stronger or getting revenge or any of that shit. I’m pissed that you’ve given up on even trying. You’ve been so focused on what you can’t do that you’ve forgotten that might be able to change that. Until you fix that fucked up mindset of yours, I don’t want anything to do with you. Now go home.”

            And with that, Frauke resumed her march. She had no more patience for discussion. Putting her back to me, she slowly built up the distance between us.

            I stood there, red-faced and furious. In the end, I couldn’t even muster up any kind of defense against her. Everything that had come to mind felt too flimsy or had been just another assertion that she couldn’t understand me. I was left to just take her words head on, unable to hold any position in our argument.

I truly was pathetic.

            I watched as Frauke walked away. She was already a dozen strides away. If she felt any remorse for what she had said, her gait did nothing to betray her. She strode as stoically as ever, moving as if there was always a path before her.

            I didn’t know what to do. Frauke didn’t want me around, but I didn’t want to obey her and shamefully go back home. Continuing to search for Uncle Albino alone would defeat the purpose of why I had sought a companion, as I knew I needed some form of protection, yet there was no telling what might happen if I approached Frauke again.

I wished I knew what to do. I wished there was someone who could tell what the right choice was. But only a modest breeze provided any sort of direction.

            I grimaced as I realized how right Frauke was. I had already given up on making a choice. Barely a minute since she had lectured me on being so flimsy, yet I had clearly learned nothing. Rather than make a decision, I continued to hesitate.

            No, that wasn’t quite right. I had learned something. I was now painfully aware of how I kept using my status as a victim to excuse my failings as a person. More than anything, she had left me even more dissatisfied with myself.

            But just because Frauke was right before didn’t mean I couldn’t prove her wrong.

            I took a deep breath in an attempt to resolve myself. Shortly after I had met Frauke, I told myself that I wanted to become stronger, only to let that remain a superficial wish. Pushing myself to speak more confidently would do nothing to fix the source of my anxieties. It would make my exterior more palatable, but leave my essence hollow and rotten.

No, I needed to change myself, to prove to her that I still could grow and improve. Even if it was just a petty, spiteful act, I would show Frauke that I hadn’t given up on myself. And to do that, I started walking.

            Not back to Galiebte or in some random direction, however. Pushing aside any concerns for my well-being, I chased after Frauke once again.

            My pack rustled and bounced as I ran towards her. Nutsack heard me first, stopping and raising his head. Frauke must have noticed this as she then glanced over her shoulder. After a fresh look of disgust, she kept her eyes forward and continued walking across the rocky land.

            Once I had caught up, I didn’t move to her side. This time, I remained a few steps behind her. I said nothing as I followed her. Only our footsteps rang out as we traveled, occasionally broken up by the sound of a twig snapping or a stone rolling loose.

            Frauke, of course, didn’t remain silent for long. Without warning, she stopped and spun around. I had expected this, however, so I simply watched her, quietly and impassively.

            “I told you to go home,” she said angrily.

            I kept quiet, my only reply being a determined stare.

            “You’re not proving anything, Cassy, nothing beyond how big of a dumbass you are. I thought I made it clear you’re pissing me off, so I wouldn’t advise continuing to test my patience.”

            Still, I said nothing.

            “Do you think I’m fucking joking?” she snarled, her eyes dark with umbrage. “Do you think anyone would care if something happened to our town’s little foreigner? I shouldn’t have to say that I’ve killed before. You’re old enough to enlist, so I won’t have any qualms about serving your ass to the vultures.”

            “...”

            “Oh, maybe you’ve decided that I’m right and you should kill yourself. But being such a coward, you can’t even take your own life, huh? You want me to do it for you, is that it?”

            “...”

            “Clever, I suppose.” Frauke gripped the hilt of her sword. “Alright then, I’ll grant your wish.”

            “...”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any last words? Any final cry of how poor Cassy deserved better?”

            “...”

            “Good. Then maybe you can die with a shred of dignity.”

            It was quick as lightning. One moment, her blade was sitting calmly in its sheath, the next, it had leapt into her hand and was launching towards me.

            But I didn’t move. I couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes, but I didn’t move a single inch.

            A second passed in silence. Then I felt the pain.

A stinging sensation emanated from my cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, and I was greeted to the view of Frauke standing in a post-lunge stance. The polished steel of her blade shined next to my face, a small bead of crimson running down its edge.

Despite her claims, I was still alive.

            Drawing upon every scrap of bravery I had, I forced myself to remain as animated as a statue. I silently stared at Frauke. She stared back, her expression a mix of callous dissatisfaction and mild chagrin.

            “Tch,” she tutted annoyedly.

Frauke then finally withdrew her sword. After taking a moment to wipe the blood off on my shoulder, she put the blade back in its sheath, turned on her heel, and started walking again. Wordlessly, I continued to follow behind her.

I dug a rag out of my pocket and pressed it against my cut, then checked it to determine how much I was bleeding. The cloth now bore a dark red blotch, but I could infer that the wound wasn’t very deep. I still kept the rag on my wound for now to help reduce the bleeding.

Honestly, I had taken a huge risk back there. I told myself I just had to quietly endure however she responded, but I surprised myself by not screaming after she had drawn her sword. I knew I couldn’t predict her reaction, yet I still didn’t expect her to threaten to kill me. But whether it was fortune or intent, I was glad she had settled on that single, shallow cut.

It was difficult to say who had won that exchange. Frauke seemed perturbed, but she also wasn’t trying to tell me to go home again. I have no idea if I came off as stupid or what to her, but I felt I had proven my point. Whatever point that was, I didn’t quite know yet.

For now, I just wanted to show her she wasn’t completely right about me. Even if it was childish and obstinate, I felt I had to prove to her that I wasn’t without purpose, that I could still change. Though it might gratify her, I turned Frauke’s cruel remarks into my goals. How that would make her feel didn’t matter, I only sought to not disappoint myself.

For the next hour, we walked on in silence. I was honestly surprised that Nutsack still had a trail to follow. Never once had the beast seemed unsure of his path. Frauke’s training must have been incredible, or perhaps Nutsack was just an exceptional dog. Either way, he continued to lead without fail.

As we climbed a particularly steep hill, the hound ran ahead to the top of the mound. Once there, he stopped and barked to Frauke. We then hurried over, eager to see what had gotten his attention.

It took only a couple seconds of scanning the scenery to see what had interested him. Seated at the foot of a mountain, maybe three miles away, was a small, wooden cabin. It was a solitary residence, a perfect home for a hermit.

Whether that was our goal or not, I couldn’t say for certain. But even if Uncle Albino didn’t live there, there would be a decent chance that whoever did could help us locate the missing man. Without a word to each other, Frauke and I started descending towards the lonesome building.

Before we got there, however, I needed to fix our situation.

“Frauke,” I called out from behind.

She didn’t turn around. “Oh, finally found your tongue again, huh?”

“I never lost it. I just figured actions would speak more clearly than words.”

“Well, all they’ve told me is that you’re a real pest so far. “

“I’m not going to apologize for what I said back there,” I continued as I moved to walk alongside her. “Even if I had ‘given up’, that doesn’t give you the right to try and tell me how to feel. I know that everyone suffers, but that doesn’t cheapen my own experiences. You’ve had your troubles and I’ve had mine. How I choose to interpret what happened to me isn’t something you get to decide.”

“So you finally get a semblance of a backbone, only to use as a means of excusing your weakness,” she sighed contemptuously.

“I’m not done yet. Let me finish speaking before you condemn me again.”

“Then go on. Maybe you’ll tick me off enough so that I can actually make good on my promise.”

I shook my head, ignoring her threats. “I’ve always known that I was a sorry excuse for a man. I was well aware that I rely on others too much and never stand my ground. I was like this before I lost my home, and I knew it got worse after I fled. I thought I was lucky to be alive and told myself I should be content with having the little happiness I had.”

Frauke just spat dismissively.

“In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not actually happy like that. Everyday, I get to deal with locals refusing to even say hello while I force myself to smile. Nobody will talk to me outside of my job. So, despite how crass you are, I was pretty relieved when you spoke to me normally. Even though you turned out to be really rude, at least you listened to me. You even tried to help me overcome my meekness.”

“Yeah, guess I fucked up though.”

“No, you didn’t,” I firmly assured. “I think you’re completely wrong about me. If anything, you’re the one who gave up too soon.”

Frauke glared at me with anger, but I could see there was a glint of surprised curiosity in her eyes. I had to take advantage of that. Before she could retort, I continued speaking.

“You’re absolutely right, I had decided there was no point in even dreaming of getting revenge on my family’s killers. And I told myself I could never become strong or have a say in how the world works. But that doesn’t mean I can’t change! Maybe I would have never tried on my own, but I still have the potential for growth! I think you were too hasty in deciding I was a lost cause, and because of that, I won’t apologize for making you angry. But that’s not the only thing I need you to know.”

Stomping my foot down, I then stopped in my tracks. Staring Frauke dead in the eyes, I moved to finish saying my piece.

“Thank you, Frauke, for pissing me off and pushing me over the edge,” I said with a determined grin. “More than anything, I now want to prove you wrong. I want to make you eat your words and apologize for ever saying such horrible things to me. Even if it’s just to spite you, I’m going to stop dwelling in my weakness and change myself. I’ll find my strength, then go back to you and rub it in your face until you beg for forgiveness!”

My last line rang out like a child’s petulant insult, but I stood by my words. I did my best to mimic Frauke’s confident smile and kept my feet planted firmly in the ground. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep up this expression against such an awkward silence, but I endured, assuring myself this was a first step towards change.

Frauke, for her part, stayed quiet. She looked at me dismally, like she had just seen an incredibly embarrassing accident. But as seconds ticked by, her stony mask cracked as the edge of her mouth upturned in a smile, only to shatter entirely into laughter.

She joyously guffawed into the mountain air. Not in derision or insult, but a genuine belly laugh. I soon found myself chuckling, then laughing just as loudly. I didn’t know what was so funny, but I couldn’t stop myself either.

Together, we laughed obnoxiously on that hillside.

“Aw Cassy, you crack me the fuck up!” Frauke managed amongst her cackles. “How the hell did you keep a straight face through that?!”

“How should I know?! How did you not laugh sooner?!” I snickered.

“Ha! Good point!”

We continued to howl with glee. If anyone had seen us, they were now surely concerned about a pair of madmen who seemed to be wandering the mountains. But I couldn’t care what anyone else thought in that moment. They didn’t matter.

As our laughter finally died down, I took a deep breath to try and steady myself again. As I exhaled, I looked over at Frauke. With a smile on her face, she was looking off into the distance.

“You know, I haven’t had anyone tell me off like that in a long time,” she said calmly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, the last person was my mom. And that was over a decade ago.”

“Oh…” That wasn’t exactly what I would have wanted to hear. Now it felt like I was infringing on territory I wasn’t welcome to.

“Don’t think that it bothers me,” Frauke stated as though she had read my mind. “If anything, it was kind of refreshing. Reminded of what I miss about the old bitch.”

“... Yeah. I miss my mom too.”

It had been months since I thought about her. I had tried not to so as to keep the pain away, but now it felt like I had let her image fade. It had only been a year, but I now realized there was so much more of my mother I would never get to learn. So many memories I’d never get to make.

“Hey, Cassy?” Frauke’s tone shifted to something more fanciful. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I just pissed off a milquetoast like you, so I’m obviously not a saint,” she chuckled. “You’ve heard most of my life story. I’m a bastard, raised by a whore, who made a living by killing people for some scummy count, a man who hated me so much he tried to kill me. I then started binge-drinking and hitting on a taken man, only to marry that adulterer myself and open a brothel just outside the count’s lands in an effort to piss off my former lord. And now, I’ve proven that I’m so insensitive that I can frustrate a wimp like you into action. None of that sounds like a good person, right?”

“Frauke, what are you-”

“Hey,” she quietly interrupted. “Just do me a favor and tell me: am I a bad person?”

Her eyes were unusually soft, an unexpected contrast from the fiery woman I’d walked so far with. She almost appeared sad, perhaps even remorseful. It felt wrong to see her like this. It was like seeing a city monument after it had fallen over, a grand sight reduced to a level you’d never want to see it at.

I thought hard on what Frauke had said. It was true that most of her life was not what I would call morally righteous. She was a wonderful example of depravity; a foul-mouthed philanderer who had killed without issue and engaged in debauchery everyday. She had even threatened to murder me just because I had behaved in a way she found to be disgusting and unforgivable. She was crude, deplorable, and violent. Frankly, there was little point in pondering whether she could be called “bad” or not. The answer was obvious.

Yet none of that could change how I felt.

“... No, I don’t think you’re a bad person,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“I’ll start off by saying it’s not because I’m afraid to say such or that I think I can’t change you or anything like that. Not that I believe you’d let anyone change you, honestly.”

She let out a small laugh. “Fair enough.”

“So to answer your question, it’s because I can understand why you did all those things. You were just being true to yourself and doing what you felt was best. You served that lord to keep yourself and your mother fed, you married your husband because you loved him, and you opened your business to get revenge on a guy who tried to kill you.”

“So as long as I’m justified, I can do whatever I want, huh?”

“I didn’t say that,” I said firmly. “A lot of the stuff you’ve done is pretty awful and inconsiderate. When I think about it, there’s probably someone out there who hates you the same way I hate those soldiers who destroyed my home. But that’s beside the point. Even though you’ve done bad things, that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Interesting.” She put her hand on her chin. “Then I’m a good person in your eyes?”

            “Again, I didn’t say that. Just because I don’t think you’re a villain doesn’t mean I think you’re a hero either. You went out here to aid me in finding Uncle Albino, but you also insulted me for being scared by my past. You noticed my insecurities and tried to help me open up, but you also told me I shouldn’t live any longer. I don’t think you’re a good or a bad person.”

            “So what am I then?”

            “You’re you.” My tone was plain and ernest. “You’re an honest woman who lives as she sees fit, regardless of how others see her. You’re generous yet inconsiderate. You’re harsh, but you’re also kind. It wouldn’t be right to try and label you so simplistically. To me, you’re Frauke, the salacious lady who helped me find Uncle Albino, and a person I greatly respect.”

            I smiled warmly, satisfied with my description. I was beginning to impress myself with how loquacious I could be. Perhaps keeping all my words to myself for so long had caused them to build up. I was more than happy to unleash them, especially in an effort to adequately communicate my feelings to my companion.

Frauke continued to look at me thoughtfully for a moment longer, then smirked.

            “By God, that might have been the most limp-dicked, half-assed, piece of flowery bullshit I’ve ever heard you say, Cassy,” she sighed with incredulity.

            Yet before my heart could plummet with dejection, Frauke walked up to me. As I looked up at her, she leaned over, put her arm around me, and hugged me tightly.

            “Thank you,” she said, her words proud and satisfied. “I’m really looking forward to when you make me apologize.”

            Frauke pulled away from the embrace, but kept her arm around my shoulders. Held against her, she tugged me along as we resumed walking down the hillside. My face turned red with embarrassment, but I didn’t resist the movement.

            “I-I meant what I said, by the way,” I grumbled. “I’m going to get stronger somehow. I won’t forget what you said to me.”

            “Good. If being pissed motivates you, I’ll be glad to frustrate you as much as possible.”

            “Just don’t be surprised when I’m nothing like the kid you played with today!”

            “Well, don’t change too much, Cassy. I think it’s good you don’t want to be a wimp any more, but I like that sweet side of you too. It really makes me want to rob your cradle.”

            Frauke pulled me in close again, leaning over my shoulder as we walked. I could suddenly feel the warm breath from her lips blowing gently near my ear.

            “So be sure you come find me when you’re older, alright?” she purred alluringly.

            My cheeks burned even hotter. With a sadistic laugh, Frauke released me from her hold and practically skipped a few steps ahead. I was left stunned, holding a hand over my tingling ear. Various feelings roiled within me, each vying for expression. Yet one emotion stood out amongst the rest.

            She really meant it when she said she would frustrate me…

            Hopefully for the last time, I hastened my pace to catch up to Frauke. Taking my place at her side, we arrived at the bottom of the hill and began trekking along the flatlands. With the cabin still in clear sight, we moved steadily towards it.

            As we walked, our conversation became mundane for the first time. Rather than discuss morals or sexual preferences, Frauke asked me about my occupation. It was a pleasant change, but it almost felt insignificant after our more serious talks. Regardless, I explained my job at Mr. Wieland’s shop.

            I went over how I had met Mr. Wieland after being dropped off at Galiebte Outpost, how he offered to house me in his shed in exchange for working at his general store, and my day-to-day operations within it. Frauke didn’t seem particularly intrigued by anything I said, but she still listened attentively. Once I was done, she then eagerly shared some facts that I was probably better off not knowing.

            Apparently Mr. Wieland was actually one of her more frequent customers. Despite being a married man, he showed up at her brothel at least twice a week. Furthermore, Frauke had to have him kicked out once for being too rough with the whores. It was only by paying the mistress a compensatory sum that she even allowed him to come back. My companion theorized that he only took me in so that he could pretend to be busy with business while he was actually cheating on his wife.

            Worse yet was when Frauke asked about my salary. After telling her that I didn’t really have one and was paid mostly in home and food, she nearly fell over with exasperation. I explained that I was given a bonus when business was good enough, but according to her, the amount I was given wasn’t even close to what I should have received, even if I was receiving board.

            Understandably, I was more than a little concerned when Frauke assured me that I had been taken advantage of, that Mr. Wieland was using my vulnerability as a war victim to paint his actions as charitable. It was upsetting to learn this, of course, but Frauke was positively steaming at the revelation. She grumbled something about “accidentally” assigning him a gigolo before dropping the subject.

            We continued to discuss matters in Galiebte as we walked, though thankfully there weren’t more unfortunate truths for me to discover. However, as we drew closer to the cabin, Nutsack starting barking. It wasn’t like before where he stopped after a single yelp. Instead, it was a continuous stream of canine cries, an obvious sign of wary discomfort.

Frauke stuck her arm out to stop me, peering carefully at the building. Then, without warning, she reached across her waist and drew her sword, readying it at her side. I glanced at her, then turned my eyes to the cabin, trying to see what had alarmed her.

            It didn’t take me long to discover what was amiss. We were maybe a couple hundred feet away, but I could see that the cabin’s door was wide open. Furthermore, the frame around it was splintered, likely having been broken. Neither were good signs, but together they indicated a situation that was far from desirable.

            We approached slowly, me taking a position a few steps behind Frauke and her dog. If worse came to worse, I’d only be a hassle in a fight, so it was best if I could give my companion room to use her sword as quickly as possible.

Once we were close enough, Frauke signalled for me to stay back as she looked into the doorway. Along with Nutsack, she then carefully walked up to the door and took a step in, her head moving quickly to survey the interior. Something caught her attention, causing Frauke to pause momentarily. A few seconds later, she turned and waved to me, an assurance that the inside didn’t appear to be dangerous. I swallowed and cautiously stepped into the cabin.

I was immediately greeted by the scent of blood. However, it was different than any other time I had smelled blood. It was more like the lingering odor of a closed butcher’s stall; the smell of blood having long since dried and faded. It was a cruel fortune that I didn’t have to ask to determine the source of the stench.

In the far corner of the cabin was a crude bed. And collapsed on top of it was a man.

Or more correctly, the corpse of one.

“What the hell…” I nearly whispered.

“Yeah, I was worried we might find this,” Frauke said. Her voice was signifcantly calmer than mine, evidence of her own experiences. “Looks like it happened at least a week ago, judging from the bloodstains.”

“Really…?”

“I’m almost certain. Of course, now we need to figure out who the fuck this guy is.”

Indeed, the man on the bed was definitely not Uncle Albino. He had all the features of a native Rottelander, though he was dressed like a typical marauder. His body was wrapped in mismatched clothes and furs, all dirty and ragged.

But what confused me were his injuries. Rather than having on obvious fatal wound, his body was covered in cuts and stabs, likely the reason his entire outfit had become stained with dry blood. Moreover, it had then seeped onto the mattress and dripped through to the floor. I didn’t know people even had that much blood in them.

“Oh shit!” Frauke cried out.

I spun around from staring at the corpse and searched for Frauke. She was crouched down in the opposite side of the cabin, next to what appeared to be an assortment of tools and other crafting utilities. I hurried over to her.

“What’s going…”

            I couldn’t even finish my sentence. Following Frauke’s gaze, I saw what had grabbed her attention so prominently.

            “Well, now we know where Uncle Albino’s been…” she muttered.

            Indeed, the reason behind his sudden disappearance was now before me. Just like the man on the mattress, he was dead. His skin was now even paler than before and his golden beard was caked with old blood. Dressed in his usual furs, Uncle Albino was left lying in a mess of his own organs.

            The cause of his death was obvious. Unlike the other man who had suffered numerous injuries, Uncle Albino seemed to have only been struck twice. There was a deep slice into his right shoulder, just above the bicep. I could even see the bone exposed underneath. But though such a wound would have been grievous, he likely died with the second strike: a long cut across his belly, spanning from chest to waist. It had been deep enough to cause the man’s guts to spill out from his torso, piling all around his waist.

            Judging from the final, pained expression left on his face, Uncle Albino didn’t die instantly from the injury either. He must have fallen onto his back and slowly expired, waiting for the pain and blood loss to take him. An unfortunate end for such an inoffensive man.

            “God damn... Hey, are you okay seeing this, Cassy?” Frauke asked with gentle concern.

            “Huh?” I snapped out of my observations. “Um… I guess…”

            “Well, don’t feel like you have to stick around. I’m used to this kind of thing, but a kid your age shouldn’t have to see this shit. I’m not gonna say a damn thing if you’d like to wait outside.”

            “N-no, I’m okay. It… doesn’t seem to bug me that much,” I said, surprising myself as much as Frauke.

            “You sure?” she checked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yeah. Besides, I’d like to figure out what happened to Uncle Albino if I can. I feel like I owe it to him.”

            “Alright. But feel free to change your mind. Staring at this shit won’t make you stronger, at least not in the way you should be. Nothing good can come from seeing this.”

            While I certainly appreciated Frauke’s concern, I found myself strangely unaffected by the sight. Seeing Uncle Albino like this was quite saddening, yet the macabre image before me didn’t terrify or disgust me. I thought for a second that perhaps it was because I didn’t know him well enough to feel any shock, but then I realized it was because this wasn’t the first time I had seen something like this.

            In fact, compared to the final state of my home, the gore in front of me was fairly tame.

            I was left more disturbed by my dispassionate response than the ghastly scene. But that was neither here nor there. I could dwell on my unpleasant indifference later, for now, I needed to look around and figure out how Uncle Albino had even ended up this way.

            I started by giving the cabin’s interior a more thorough inspection. Half of the home was sparsely decorated or even furnished. Beyond the bed, the only other pieces of furniture were a simple wooden table and chair. There wasn’t even a cushion on the seat. It would have looked like a queer joke if it weren’t for the dead body.

            However, the other half of the building was ludicrously enriched by comparison. Surrounding Uncle Albino’s corpse was a variety of shelves, furnaces, and workbenches. Tools were hanging on every inch of wallspace and materials of all kinds were strewn around for easy access. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that this was a sort of workshop.

            In fact, I noticed that most of the things Uncle Albino had traded for were in this area. The hammers and ropes he’d buy were hanging on hooks, even that roll of leather from two weeks ago was left on a shelf. That at least solved the mystery of what he was doing with all those seemingly random items. Though it now begged a new question: what on earth was a hermit crafting out here in the mountains?

            “I think we can safely say this place belonged to Uncle Albino,” I said to Frauke.

            “Really? How so?” She continued digging around the foreign man’s corpse, careful not to touch the exposed organs. Nutsack was seated next to her as he patiently waited for orders.

            “There’s a lot of stuff here that he bought from Mr. Wieland’s general store. And judging from how some of those tools are sitting on Uncle Albino’s waist, I don’t think this was the other guy’s workshop.”

            “Hm, good eye,” nodded Frauke.

            “But I don’t understand what he was doing out here. He was clearly making something, but I don’t know what.”

            “I think I can answer that. Look over here.”

            Frauke pointed over at the wall next to the broken door. Hanging from a series of hooks were at least two dozen swords, each quite different from the next. I didn't know a lot about such weapons, but I could at least distinguish a saber, a scimitar, and a traditional longsword. Frauke walked up to the armory and pulled a couple of the blades down.

            “Wait, you think he made those?” I questioned.

            “I do,” Frauke answered. She held one of the swords out to me, hilt first. “Look at the bottom of the pommel here.”

            I leaned in to inspect it, seeing a strange decoration resembling a willow tree. What I would assume was the smith’s name was printed in an unknown language beneath the tree.

            “That’s… a smith’s signature, right?”

            “Correct. Now look at the base of the blade on this one.”

            She handed me another weapon, this one a curved, single-edged sword sheathed in a wooden scabbard. I pulled the blade out a bit and looked where she instructed me.

            Again, another willow tree signature.

            “Huh. The same symbol.”

            “Right,” Frauke nodded. “So, judging from the circumstances, I’m inclined to think Albino made them. Though how he knew how to make so many different kinds baffles me...”

            “Hold on, I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. This assumption doesn’t make sense.”

            “What doesn’t make sense?”

            “Why would a mountain hermit would spend his days making swords?” I pondered. “Sure, he always bought things that seemed unnecessary for an otherwise self-sufficient man, but that doesn’t explain why he would use them to make weapons.”

            “That’s fair, but you’re operating on the principle that there’s an obvious reason behind this,” said Frauke.

            I crossed my arms in thought. “Well, he never tried to sell me any kind of blade, and he never went to any of the other shops in Galiebte. I guess it’s possible he had another contact, but the next outpost is nearly fifty miles away.”

            “I don’t think he planned to sell them. If he had, he wouldn’t have made such a variety and likely would have instead mastered a single style instead of doing this variety bullshit,” argued Frauke.

            “Do you think he was going to give them to someone?”

            “It’s possible, but then why make this many? From what I can tell, these aren’t cheap blades.” As an example, Frauke unsheathed one. “This steel is way better than anything I’ve ever seen, hell, it puts my old friend here to shame. A single one of these would have made an impressive gift to a lord. This whole set could earn you the favor of every king on the continent.”

            I furrowed my brow. “But if he wasn’t selling or giving them, why make them?”

            “Why indeed,” she echoed. “Let’s look around some more. There might be a clue to his intentions. It might even have something to do with what got Albino killed. I’m gonna search the bodies, could you check the shelves and see if he left a note or something?”

            “Sure,” I nodded.

            Frauke put the swords back on their hooks and went over to Uncle Albino’s corpse. As requested, I went about looking at the shelves. Most of them simply hosted tools and materials, however, so it already seemed unlikely I would find anything. Frauke moved to the stranger’s body before I found anything of interest.

            It was on the shelf closest to Uncle Albino’s body that I found a clue. Tucked behind some metal ingots was a small notebook. I opened it up, revealing page upon page of handwritten information. I walked over to Frauke to present the item.

            “I found this,” I said to her, holding the book open for her inspection. “Are you able to read it?”

            Frauke looked up from the unknown man’s corpse and stared at the script. “Hmm, no, I don’t recognize the language. And it’s not in Vassernian characters either, huh?”

            “I don’t know. I don’t know how to read.”

            She looked at me with surprise. “No shit? You’re pretty well-spoken for an illiterate.”

            “I probably picked up a lot just by listening to customers. But yeah, nobody in my village knew how to read, so I never learned.”

            “Weird. Regardless, no, I have no idea what’s written there.”

            “He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue as well, so I doubt anyone in Galiebte would know either,” I said, placing the book on the table. “I guess it wasn’t much of a clue in the end.”

            “It’s a shame, but that’s how it is.”

            I went back to looking over the workshop area while Frauke resumed checking the corpses. I was mostly interested in determining the likelihood that Uncle Albino had made the swords. I gingerly stepped around the gore to inspect the furnaces and such.

            The furnace was probably the largest item in the cabin, taking up a whole corner by itself. Now working under the mindset that Uncle Albino was a smith, the reasoning behind all of  the metal ingots and hammers now seemed obvious. The final proof was the small anvil. It wasn’t as large as the ones I’d see in Galiebte, but it was well-sized for this home.

            But nothing gave any indication as to why he was making those swords. Dead men tell no tales, but Uncle Albino never told any while he was alive either. He seemed just as much a puzzle box as a man.

“Alright, I think I’ve got a good idea what happened to these two gentlemen,” Frauke called out, rising to her feet.

            “Really? Do you know who killed them?”

            “Probably. Keep in mind that everything I’m going to say is conjecture. I can’t say for certain what the fuck happened here, but I can make a few educated guesses based on what I can see.”

            “I’d trust your theories over my own assumptions. I’m all ears, Frauke.”

            “Well then, to start things off, I’m pretty sure the stranger killed Uncle Albino. Mostly just based on this.” She reached next to corpse and pulled out a dagger. It looked of decent quality, but like it had been neglected reasonable care for years. The rusting blade was stained with blood. “It matches up with the wounds on Albino pretty well. So, at the very least, I suspect this was the weapon used to kill him. Considering how it was strapped to this guy, I’m going to assume he did the deed too.”

            “Okay, that makes sense.” I had already guessed as much, but it was reassuring to hear Frauke support such beliefs with facts.. “So then who killed the stranger?”

            “That, I believe, was Uncle Albino.”

            “What? But you just said the stranger killed Uncle Albino.”

            “Correct.”

            “So how did he kill the stranger if the stranger killed him?”

            “I’m gonna hazard that it was a mutual exchange of death. I’m thinking that he dealt the lethal blow to Albino, but our good friend was able to cut the stranger enough to make death by blood loss an inevitability. It just wasn’t fast enough to save his own ass.”

            “Was there a weapon by Uncle Albino?” I asked.

            “Yeah, but it kind of bugs me.” She sauntered over to the foreigner’s corpse. “It’s just this insipid little knife.”

            “Hmm…” I contemplated these facts. “So then we just need to figure out why the stranger attacked Uncle Albino in the first place.”

            “I’ve got an idea, but what are you thinking?”

            “Well, I would have thought it was just a random attack by a crooked bandit, but now I’d say he wanted the swords.”

            “A reasonable theory, but I’d say your first guess was more correct,” Frauke stated.

            I furrowed my brow. “Really? Why?”

            “I don’t think the bandit knew about the swords. Judging by the amount of dust on some of those pieces, I’d wager Albino would hang them up there once they were finished. I doubt they ever went outside this cabin.”

            “Maybe the bandit saw that the swords were inside then?” I countered.

            “Nuh-uh. Consider the layout of this building,” she said with a shook head.  “There’s only one little window, and you’d only be able to see the table and chair through it. Even if the stranger got a glimpse in while the door was open, he’d see the tools and such, not the swords. Hell, I don’t think he even noticed the swords until after the knife fight. With the way the door opens, you can’t even see them unless turn around after entering the place.”

            “But then… that would mean he attacked Uncle Albino without reason.”

            “Not entirely. The stranger probably just wanted whatever food and shelter Albino had,” Frauke sighed resignedly. “I doubt the bandit gave it much more thought than, ‘I want his shit’. Whatever shit that was didn’t particularly matter.”

            “Leading him to break the lock and force his way in,” I spat. “What a selfish thing.”

            “Such is the way of thieves and marauders, Cassy. But that’s the risk Albino took in living out here by his lonesome.”

            “Okay, let me see if I’m understanding how things happened,” I said as I placed a hand on my chin. “The bandit found Uncle Albino’s cabin, decided he wanted to raid it, and broke in. The two had a struggle that resulted in numerous smaller wounds on the bandit, and two grievous ones on Uncle Albino. Uncle Albino then died shortly after, but the bandit lived for a bit longer and instead bled out on the bed. And this all most likely happened about a week ago, correct?”

            “Well, that’s if you can trust my assumptions,” shrugged Frauke. “I’ve seen plenty of war, but I’m an ex-soldier, not a detective. I could be entirely wrong about everything.”

            “True, but what you’ve said makes sense to me, though I’ll admit it’s not really what I was hoping to find.”

            “Yeah, it’s unfortunate. And it only raises more questions about this mysterious bastard.”

            “On that note, why does it bug you that he used a knife?”

            “Mostly it’s that the timing doesn’t make much sense,” said Frauke. “I highly doubt that bandit got through the door so fucking fast that Albino didn’t have any time to react. Considering he had to break the lock, I’m sure there was plenty of commotion to warn the bastard. So that makes me wonder why didn’t he grab one of those swords instead.”

            I hadn’t considered that. Now that she brought it up, it was rather weird that Uncle Albino hadn’t used those weapons, especially since they were apparently of superb quality. One of those likely could have made short work of anyone, or at least do better than his tiny knife.

            “Do you think he just didn’t know how to wield them?” I offered for an explanation.

            “It’s possible. I didn’t see any training dummies or the like outside. But most smiths know at least rudimentary sword fighting. Hard to tell you’re making a decent blade if you don’t know which end you stab ‘em with.”

            “Hm. But if he knew how, then why didn’t he use them?”

            “That is something I don’t think we’ll ever get to figure out.”

            Frauke stepped back to the center of the cabin, looking around the single-room building. Her expression was a mixture of whimsy and dissatisfaction.

            “It’s really pitiful, isn’t it?” she mused.

            “Yeah,” I sighed. “I guess I knew this was a possibility, but I had still hoped he was okay. Even if I couldn’t understand him, Uncle Albino was always nice to me. I sort of looked up to him, as a fellow foreigner.”

            “Hm.”

Frauke sounded as if her thoughts were elsewhere. I decided to see if she’d share them.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I was just thinking about how ironic his life was, especially when I compare it to your words. No offense, of course.”

            “None taken?” I said cautiously. “What do you mean by “ironic”?”

            “Look at his home.” She accompanied the words with a wide gesture. “Look at what he did and what he had, and how little it all meant when some random bastard came knocking.”

            “I’m not following…”

            “You mentioned that you felt that power was everything, yeah? Well, you can see that Uncle Albino had plenty of power. He had the skills to make wondrous weapons, things he could have used to buy a mansion or a private army. Shit, he could have become a duke overnight if he tried. But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he lived in a shack away from society, stockpiling his swords for some unfathomable goddamn reason.”

            If what Frauke said was true, he could have strolled into Galiebte one day and walked away a rich man by selling just one of his swords. And even if he didn’t understand the language, he could have probably found an interpreter or someone to teach him the local tongue. But he never even tried anything like that. He appeared as nothing more than an odd wildman, never giving a hint as to his secret life as a swordsmith.

For whatever reason, he was content to ply his trade in obscurity.

            “In the end, all that strength didn’t do him any good…” I muttered in understanding.

            “Bingo,” nodded Frauke. “This man could have changed the country, but instead, he hid away and ended up a mess on the floor. It just strikes me as a bit ironic after our talk about what strength really is. He had all that power, but he wouldn’t use it.”

            “Do you have any ideas on why he refused to do anything with his swords?”

            “Not a damn clue. Considering he refused to even use one in a fight, it must have been some kind of personal creed. Maybe even a religion.”

            “It just seems… inane to make a weapon but never use it.”

            “My best guess is that he had an itch that demanded he work the forge. But I don’t want to do know what happened to him to drive this fucker into living such a shitty life.” Frauke let out a heavy sigh. “Living all alone and making weapons for nobody… it’s a prime example of idiocy.”

            I looked at Uncle Albino’s savaged form. Despite finding his home, I still felt like I understood so little about him.

“I guess he was pretty much the opposite of me,” I thought aloud.

            “Oh? How so?”

            “Before I met you, I wanted strength, but didn’t have the motivation to get it. Uncle Albino had strength, but no desire to use it. I suppose it makes me think on how wrong I really was about how the world works.”

            “Hm, pretty good insight, Cassy,” Frauke said, impressed. “You’re absolutely right too. Power and purpose are mutually bound. Without one, the other is useless. You either end up a frustrated sap or a pointless danger, and neither one of those matters to the world at large. It’s just a shame that you had get those lessons from a rude bitch and a corpse.”

            “Believe me, I would have picked better teachers if I had the chance. But I think it was better to learn it now than never.”

            “True. I’m not fond of exposing kids to shit like this, but I’m not your mother either. If you walk away from this understanding the world a little better, than I’ll just accept that you knew what you’re doing in sticking around.”

            I frowned a bit. “I wish I could have helped Uncle Albino though.”

            “He wanted to live this way,” my companion shrugged. “It must have made him happy somehow. And maybe he’s even happier dying this way.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “He lived as a mystery and he died as one. He never sought to be understood, so perhaps meeting his end as an unknown is just what he wanted.”

            I tilted my head with thought. Was that possible? Was he so disconnected from the world that he would have chosen to leave it without a single bond? To me, he felt like one of the few kind folk I knew in Galiebte. But seeing how he lived and worked only for some inconceivable reason left a bad taste in my mouth. It was like I had seen the trick behind an illusion, an understanding that now denied me wonder and excitement. He wasn’t some proud foreigner; he was just an inexplicable fool.

            I no longer felt that envy towards him.

            Frauke and I stood there in silence. Moments passed by as we both looked around the room. I began to shift uncomfortably on my feet, prompting me to ask a question.

            “So what should we do now?”

            “Well, we certainly shouldn’t leave this place as it is. As you’re the one who arranged this expedition, what do you think we should do, Cassy?”

            “Hmm…”

            We definitely had to do something about the swords. If they were even half as valuable as Frauke thought, then they were an issue that needed to be dealt with. Moreover, we still had to do something about the bodies.

            I looked out the door. It was afternoon now, and I would guess we had only a handful of hours of light left. Though I would have liked to bury the dead, doing so would take too long and put us in danger. I didn’t have a torch or anything, so traveling at night could be a huge risk. But if we left now, we could probably make it back to Galiebte before sundown.

            Yet it didn’t feel right to leave them as they were. At the very least, I wanted to send Uncle Albino off with dignity. Even if he was a fool, he deserved a proper funeral. I couldn’t even give that to my own family, so for once, I wanted to honor the passing of someone who had been kind to me.

            It was in recalling my lost home that I was filled with unsettling inspiration.

            “I think we should burn the cabin down,” I said suddenly.

            Frauke cast me a surprised expression. “That’s only a little batshit crazy. What makes you think we need to set this place on fire?”

            “A few reasons. I want to bury Uncle Albino, but we don’t have enough time for that. If we try, we’ll end up having to travel in the dark, and I we’re not equipped for that. It might be a bit extreme, but burning this building would allow us to cremate both of them without having to spend too much time.”

            “That’s… eerily pragmatic.”

            “Well, there’s no point in honoring the dead if it gets us killed too.”

            “Fair enough.”

            “In addition, I think we need to do something about those swords,” I continued. “We don’t know why Uncle Albino made them, so I feel like it would be wrong for us to take them. Even if they’re valuable, we didn’t earn the power they can bring. I would prefer to leave them with Uncle Albino instead.”

            “You want to destroy them with the building, eh?” asked Frauke.

            “Yeah. The fire would melt them down and ruin them, right?”

            “Most likely. If we set them up properly, I can almost guarantee it.”

            “Then, if it’s alright, that’s what I’d like to do.”

            Frauke held her chin and pondered the idea. I stood there in silence, awkwardly waiting for her reply.

            “Well, okay,” she answered. “But on a couple conditions.”

            I was afraid of this. “What are they?”

            “First, I want you to take that book with you.” She pointed at the table. “That’s the only potential clue we have as to what this guy was doing. I think it would be best if you kept that, in case you ever find someone who knows the language.”

            “Me? Why don’t you take it, Frauke?”

            “Albino didn’t mean much to me. But you cared enough to go wandering the hills to find him. If we’re not gonna bury him, then consider finding the truth behind that book another way of honoring the mysterious bastard.”

            It was a bit of an odd request, but nothing worth disagreeing over. “Fine. What’s your other condition?”

            “I’m taking two of those swords with me,” she said resolutely. “But I’ll promise now: I’m not going to sell them, and I’m only going to give one away.”

            I narrowed my eyes. “What are you going to do with them exactly?”

            “I’m keeping one for myself, as a way to remember this very memorable day. You can consider it payment for my services if you’d like.”

            “Hmph. And the other?”

            “I’m going to hold onto it for now, but I’m planning to give it to some kid when he fulfills a promise he made to me,” she smirked knowingly. “What he does with it after that is up to him.”

            “Frauke, I don’t want-”

            “Who said it was you, dumbass? You think I don’t have tons of young men who’ve pledged something or another to me?”

            Her tone made it obvious that such wasn’t the case, but I could see there was no further discussion to be had. Although I would have preferred to burn them all with the cabin, I couldn’t deny that Frauke had at least earned a reward for her work. Besides, there was little I could do to stop her if she wanted to take every one of the blades. It was better to settle on this compromise.

            “Alright, I’m fine with those conditions,” I reluctantly agreed. “So what do we do next?”

            “Hold onto these for me.” Frauke grabbed a pair of swords from the hooks: the regular longsword and a saber similar to her own. She dumped them onto my arms. “Grab the book, then go outside and wait about twenty feet away. I’ll take care of the rest.”

            “You don’t need any help?”

            “Nah, I know what I’m doing. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time I’ve burned a building down. Though this will make the second time I’ll have promised to make it my last.”

            I gave Frauke one last skeptic look before I walked over to the table. Grabbing the strange notebook, I plopped it into my backpack before moving to leave. As Frauke began dumping oil on the floor, I took one last look around the cabin.

            The bandit’s corpse on the bed and Uncle Albino’s on the floor. A barren side for living and a lavished side for smithing. It was a small building, but it held everything that mattered to the man I had hoped to find. And so, we would burn his memories and his wishes with him. Almost all of his legacy would be left as ash to be carried by the winds and lost among the mountains. Only Frauke and I would have even the slightest notion of what kind of man Uncle Albino truly was.

            I hoped he would be satisfied by that.

            Frauke was busy piling the swords on top of some charcoal in the middle of the room when I finally stepped out of the building. A quick order from his master had Nutsack following shortly after me. A couple minutes later, Frauke walked through the doorway, carrying a burning piece of wood. She stared at me, waiting for a final confirmation.

            I looked over the cabin. If it wasn’t for the broken door, it would have looked so normal, nothing to indicate the armory it housed. It was even harder to believe it was going to be in flames in a few seconds, all because it’s what I thought was best.

            “Goodbye, Uncle Albino,” I whispered to no one.

            I nodded to Frauke. She nodded back, then turned around. With as much as care as one would give tossing a pebble into a lake, she cast the makeshift torch through the door.

*           *           *           *           *

            We were about midway back when the sun started to set. Until that point, Frauke and I had remained quiet, both of us thinking back to the events of the day. But once the sky turned yellow, my companion grew chatty again.

            “So what are you going to do now, Cassy?” she asked me.

            I gave her a quizzical look. “Go home, I guess? What else is there to do?”

            “I meant after that. Are you still gonna keep working for Wieland?”

            Right, she had made it evident that he was likely swindling me. Between him and Uncle Albino, it would seem most of the people I had respected weren’t what they seemed. Frauke was currently an exception to that, though respecting her was already a questionable prospect.

            “I’m guess so. I’d like to say ‘no’, but I doubt anyone else in Galiebte would hire me.”

            “Well, I just heard there’s an opening at Stummelschwanz that’d be right up your alley.”

            “... I’m not looking to become a gigolo,” I quietly assured.

            “Good, you’d be awful at it. How about you become my husband’s assistant instead?”

            “He needs an assistant?”

            “More like a bitch-boy to run errands, really, but some people are big on titles,” Frauke laughed. “Felix has been saying he’s tired of cleaning all the glasses himself, and I think I could find a few other uses for you as well.”

            “I told you, I’m not looking to become a manwhore.”

            “Cassy, I haven’t even seen your dick. As far as I know, you’re packing a two-incher, and only my kinkiest customers are going to pay for that.”

            My cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I-it’s more than two inches! And I’m still growing!”

            “So what do you say? You’ll piss off Wieland, but he won’t do a thing if you’re in my employ. I can guarantee a decent wage, and I know a few people who’ll board you at a fair price. And, of course, working at my brothel comes with plenty of perks… at least, once you’re older, that is.”

            I mulled it over. To be honest, it was a rather tempting offer. The thought of actually being paid regularly was intriguing enough on its own. Beyond that, I felt I had a decent understanding of Frauke to assure me that she and her husband would treat me fairly.

“... I’ll think about it,” I replied.

“Please do. I’ll keep the offer open for a couple weeks or so. That should give you plenty of time to decide.”

“But I’d like to ask, why would you want me to work for you?”

“Mostly to spite Wieland,” she said dismissively. “I’m still pissed about how he treated my girl. Hearing that he’s just as shitty to his employees makes me want to strangle him with his own balls, but I’ll settle on depriving him of his favorite patsy.”

“O-okay…” I almost felt like I needed to remind her that that “patsy” was me.

“But I’d also like to keep an eye on you.” Frauke shined with her signature smirk. “You told me you’re going to toughen up, but I don’t know if you’ll follow through. I wouldn’t mind having you around so I can make sure you keep your promise. My husband could probably offer some advice too, so you’d get a lot more support than if you stuck with the general store.”

It was difficult to respond to that. Part of me wanted to chastise her for doubting me, but I was also endeared by her concerns. Truth be told, I had wanted to find an excuse to talk to Frauke again as time went on. The thought of willingly frequenting the brothel was awkward, but that wouldn’t be an issue if I worked there.

“... Alright, I’ll really consider it,” I answered. “If it means that much to you, I suppose it couldn’t be worse that working for Wieland.”

“Wow, of all the things you’ve said to me, that one hurts the most. And I was just thinking about how much I like you.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, but it stings for now. I’m gonna need a drink, a man, and a woman tonight!” she groaned theatrically.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was exaggerating.

My backpack bounced as we walked, now laden with mementos of Uncle Albino. Although Frauke offered to carry the blades, I felt it was best to keep them in my pack in case anything happened. In a way, I must have looked like some sort of squire tasked with carrying the weapons of a knight. I suppose it was true to some extent, especially since I was now considering employment as her businesses’ newest attendant.

I could now see the grassy plains we had crossed earlier coming into view, indicating that we were nearing Galiebte again. Nutsack had guided us this far, apparently having just as much ease returning home as he did in finding a man. The dichotomy between his pleasant demeanor and tracking skills was quite impressive.

As we climbed to the top of a hill, I stopped and looked back. In the distance, I could see a plume of black smoke having risen into the air. The amount coming from its source was beginning to lessen, but it was still large enough to have drawn attention. Hopefully no one else had decided to investigate. I felt it would be preferable if our final farewell to Uncle Albino remained known only to Frauke and I.

After all, it wouldn’t be a mystery if everyone knew about it.

“What’s the matter, Cassy?” Frauke called to me, several strides ahead. She and her dog had paused, waiting for me to join them.

“Ah, sorry about that. Just taking in one last view,” I said quickly.

“You’ll see plenty more of this in your lifetime. I’m too sober for this time of day, so let’s keep moving.” Without any more waiting, Frauke started walking again.

I stood there a moment longer, smiling at Frauke’s back. I then hurried to her side, matching her pace as she strode forward.