Honorine's Run To Save The World - Chapter Two (Patreon)

"The apocalypse is coming, and I require your assistance to stop it."

...Wait, what? I look the girl in the eyes, looking for any sign that she might be joking—but there's nothing of the sort. She looks like she genuinely believes every word she's saying. Maybe she's not all there yet; she has been asleep for longer than I've been alive, after all. In that case, maybe I should wait a while for her to fully wake up...

"Er, hello?" The girl tilts her head, confusion visible on her face. She brings her hands up, but then stops and starts muttering to herself. She's trying to be quiet, but it's not working; I can hear every word. "They seem to hear me, but… No, it is unlikely that the local language could have changed appreciably in—"

"No, I can understand you just fine," I cut her off mid-sentence. "It's just… What are you even talking about? What incoming apocalypse? How am I supposed to help you?"

"I…” She blinks, then continues. “...am unsure as to the answer to your first query. As for the second: I do not recall the details of the apocalypse. I only remember that I need to be at Zephyr Coast. Your assistance is required due to the fact that there may have been geopolitical changes in the time since I was interred here that will complicate the journey, not to mention..."

"Whoa, whoa, hang on. Zephyr Coast?" I know the place she's talking about; it's another Streician temple, all the way over on the west coast. The girl keeps talking despite my interruption, but I keep going regardless "That's… Isn't that a bit far? Especially considering you've apparently got to save the world or whatever?"

"Yes, but—" She shakes her head, starting to walk toward the temple's entrance. "Your curiosity exceeds projections, rendering this arrangement inefficient." I open my mouth to protest, but she brushes past me and keeps walking. “To save time, I recommend continuing this line of conversation concurrently with progressing toward our destination.”

...I'm not going to lie: If she's that serious about it, then there's got to be at least some truth to what she's saying. The least I can do is check to see if she's right or if she's just overreacting. I catch up to her at the exit of the hidden valley, and tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. "Alright, I'll take you to Zephyr Coast, but we've got to make a quick stop along the way. Is that okay?"

"I am unsure of the exact deadline, but I estimate there is room for a brief detour. That is acceptable."

—

The journey back down the Mournian is, just like the initial climb, mostly uneventful; by sundown, we've reached the town of Blankenräschen at the foot of the mountain. The girl's been clinging to me the entire way down, probably caught off-guard by the sheer cold outside her little sanctuary. Or, at least, it looks that way—she's still clinging to me as we enter the warmth of the town's inn.

In fact, I think she's holding onto me even more tightly than when we were out in the cold. I gently pry her off of me, grateful for the fact that there's next to no one else in the inn right now, and ask her outright: "Is everything okay?"

"U-Um..." It's like she's a completely different person; her voice is utterly devoid of the confidence it had when she was telling me that the world is going to end, and she's actively trying to make herself as small as possible. It's kind of cute, but also more than a little concerning; it's almost like she's...

"Wait, are you scared?" It wasn't what I was thinking, but it makes perfect sense, and any doubts I may have had are laid to rest when, with the tiniest movement of her head, she nods in confirmation. The question is: what's got her so scared? I can think of any number of answers to that question, each one of them just as satisfactory as the others, so I'll have to ask her.

That can wait, though; I need to get us rooms first. With the girl in tow, I ask the innkeeper for a room. Preferably one with two beds, so I can keep an eye on my new friend and help her out if anything comes up. The inn does have such a room—quite a few, actually—and within what I guess is five minutes we've been shown to our room.

It's a nondescript place, really. One of those samey rooms that define the average Crouzite inn, with mediocre furniture and little care given to décor, but I couldn't care less. Well, I could, but the same can't be said for my body; the second I see the beds, the exhaustion of my mountain excursion hits me like a truck and I very nearly collapse on the spot. Luckily, I'm able to stay vertical just long enough to shamble over to one of the beds and throw myself on it, and the girl seems to take this as her cue to do the same. Just as well, too; I no longer have the energy to do much more than bid her goodnight before I drift off into my hardest-earned sleep yet.

—

I'm woken by the sound of footsteps, and immediately snap to full alertness. This is a room for one, who the hell could have gotten in, and why? Things get even stranger when I reach for my sword by the bedside—it's not there. Is my mysterious roommate some kind of sword thief? And why does it sound like they're pacing back and forth...?

I rise from my bed, and my brain catches up with reality very quickly: This isn't a room for one, my sword is still sheathed at my right hip, and my roommate is the girl I found in that Streician temple yesterday, who sounds like she's pacing back and forth because that's exactly what she's doing. She turns her gaze to me, and immediately starts talking.

"U-Um..." Her voice is still largely devoid of confidence, but she still sounds a little less timid than she did when we entered the inn last night. "...the, er, the level of technological advancement here… does not match with any projected patterns..." She looks down, suddenly taking a vested interest in her boots. Even at this angle, though, I can tell that a faint blush has formed on her face. "It… I am afraid I have absolutely no idea what much, if not all, of this is, let alone how it works..."

Ah. Of course. She's Streician, and when I found her she'd clearly been asleep for a very long time, so I can hardly blame her for feeling like a fish out of water here. Still, I've got to confirm: "...is that why you were scared yesterday?"

"Y-Yes." She nods, again with a minuscule movement of her head. "There are... far too many deviations from--" Her explanation is interrupted by a loud crash from below, and she jumps about half a meter with a terrified squeak. I can't blame her; I jumped too. More to the point, though: That sounded like trouble. I tell her to stay put—though, all things considered, it feels a bit redundant—and head downstairs to the source of the noise.

I was right, it is trouble. There's two men near the counter, harrying the innkeeper about… something. I don't know what. One of them stands nearby an upended table, undoubtedly the source of the crash we'd heard. They don't seem to have noticed me yet, so I take advantage of the situation to listen in on their conversation with the innkeeper.

"You can probably tell we're done being nice, so tell us where the girl is before we start getting nasty." The larger of the two men growls, gesturing to the table he's just flipped. His companion backs him up with a wheezy laugh and a "yeah, you'd better" that makes me want to flip a table myself—but there's a more important issue at hand here.

"Hang on, what's this about a girl?" I make my presence known, hands raised in the air to indicate that I don't want a fight. At least not yet, anyway. "You two looking for someone?"

"Yeah, as it happens." The table-flipping stranger turns to me, ignoring the sigh of relief the innkeeper breathes out. "A girl. White hair, orange eyes, dressed like a museum piece. Our source here says he saw her come in here with another lady… Who, now that I give it a teeny bit of thought, looks an awful lot like you."

Huh, so they're looking for temple girl. That's odd. Still, between that and the whole 'threatening the innkeeper' thing, it's as good an excuse as any for a fight. I rush towards the two men, and floor the wheezy-laugh guy with a single punch. Was that a smart move? Not exactly, but gods it was satisfying.

I then turn to the other man, and reach for my sword—then I change my mind. It's been a while since I've been in a fistfight, and drawing the sword wouldn't be a safe move anyway. Instead, I take advantage of the brief moment in which he's stunned to throw a punch at his face, same as I did with his friend. It connects, but doesn't knock him over. Fair enough, I guess.

He retaliates with a punch of his own, a right hook. I wait until the last moment, and then raise my guard—

Nope. He moves a lot faster than I'd expected, and instead of properly stopping the blow like I'd wanted, I end up just barely blocking it. The force of the punch sends me sideways and into one of the tables. I see him coming closer, taking his dear sweet time doing it. He probably thinks I'm as good as finished. In that case, he's thinking wrong.

I wait until he gets a little closer, and then throw out a kick to his gut. The kick's a bit misaimed, but that works in my favor: Instead of just being pushed back a little, my foe doubles over; looks like I've hit a soft spot. Oh well, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I rush him, and get him in the face with an undercut. Then, when he falls backwards, I start to go in for another attack, only to stop when I notice he's not actually moving. Breathing, sure, but otherwise… Yeah, he's out cold.

Now that the two intruders have been dispatched with, I notice a glint of metal on the nearest man's sleeve. Crouching down to inspect it, I see that it's a custom cufflink in the shape of a noble crest. It's a shape I know all too well: A sword with coins impaled on it.

Oh, dear.

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