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

In hindsight, leaving the train might not have been the best idea. We've been walking for hours now, with nothing to guide us except for the slowly-sinking sun. Under normal circumstances, I'd hardly complain; I'm used to walking for long distances, for one, and the views within this forest are particularly pleasant, but these are not normal circumstances. I have no idea how far Zephyr Coast is, and I don't know if Alessia's as used to hiking as I am. She isn't complaining, however, and there's nothing in her body language that suggests she has any issues with this; she's simply taking in the sights as we go, adjusting her stride whenever I get too far ahead, so I assume she's fine with the current situation.

Yet, despite the fact that neither of us has a problem with continuing, something happens that forces us to do so anyway: The sun sets, and the forest almost immediately becomes completely innavigable. The trees are infuriatingly thick; they're just scattered enough to let in a small amount of moonlight that shows us the vague shapes of our surroundings, but they're also close enough that I can't see the stars if I look up, so I can't tell where we are.

Oh well, I was getting hungry anyway. I turn to Alessia. "Hey."

"What is it?"

"You don't mind if we stop here for the night, do you? It's too risky to keep moving forward in this light level, and..."

"That is acceptable. My energy reserves are running rather low as well, so a rest is very much in order." As if on cue, a massive yawn escapes her. I don't really feel all that tired myself, but I do the same.

"Right, it's decided, then. Let's set up a campfire."

—

With two of us working together, it doesn't take very long to set up the fire at all; by my estimation, it only takes us about five minutes or so to gather the kindling, tinder and fuel, and to surround the whole assembly with stones. Now all we've got to do is...

"I do not wish to alarm you, but I notice that we do not have any means of igniting this campfire. Searching for flint or some other firestarting material is recommended."

"Actually, I think that might not be necessary. Hang on." I take a glove out of my pocket, slipping it onto my left hand, and then draw my sword with my right. I press my left hand to the flat of the blade, and the silver threads woven into the glove react to the leftover magic in the sword. The reading is muddied by the magic the sword absorbed on the train, but amidst all the noise I can make out that there’s enough of Sabrina's lightning spell left in the amethyst core to ignite our campfire, but only just. I point the sword at the fire pit. "Okay, step back, and shut your eyes."

Alessia complies, and as soon as she's a safe distance away, I close my own eyes and fire the spell into the tinder. Thunder roars as a lightning bolt issues from the tip of my blade into the wood, bright enough that I can almost see it through my eyelids, and the crackling of fire quickly takes its place in the silence that follows. Now that we've got a campfire going, Alessia and I both take a seat by it. I take a few rations out of my bag and offer some to her, but she shakes her head.

Well, if she's not hungry, she's not hungry. I dig in, just listening to the fire and the sounds of the forest around us until, out of the blue, Alessia pipes up.

"Honorine."

"Huh?" This is the first time she's used my name. "Is something wrong?"

"No, there is nothing wrong. I simply have a question. During your fight, Sabrina expressed surprise at the fact that your sword is comprised of silver, and her response implied there was a high skill barrier involved. What is so unusual about this weapon choice?"

"Oh, it's just..." Don't start, Honorine… Ah, fine, she just asked what was so weird about my sword, I can do that without going on a tangent, can't I? "The thing is, Silver blades are notorious for being difficult, almost impossible, to use. In most hands, the blade just absorbs the magic and then radiates it uncontrollably. There's a few different explanations out there for why that is. Some, like Sabrina, say it's a skill, some say you've got to be descended from this or that hero, some say you've got to have the blessing of a deity." There, that was easier than I'd anticipated.

"So many hypotheses…" She seems lost in thought for a second. "I do not believe it has escaped your notice that you are successfully using a silver sword. Thus, I believe it is reasonable for me to assume that you must know the true reason why silver swords are so difficult to use?"

"Yeah, I do." Please leave it at that, please leave it at that...

"And what, if I may ask, is that reason?"

Fine, I guess if someone has to hear my grievances against the state of silversmithing these days, it might as well be the one who happens to be the reason we're in the middle of nowhere on a race against time. At the very least, it's payback for… Well, I can't actually think of anything she's done that's worth getting revenge for. Still, she asked, so I'll give her an answer, as calmly and briefly as I can.

"Silver blades aren't actually that hard to use at all; the problem is, most of them just aren't designed properly. Just about every commercial silversmith these days applies the design principles for steel swords to their weapons, and it's… Ugh. That's not how any of that works! Of course the sword's not going to live up to its magic-controlling reputation if you don't put some silver between the user's hand and the tang so they can actually, you know, channel their own magic into the blade!

"Not to mention how no one seems to know—and I have no idea how something this basic got forgotten—that silver on its own doesn't store magic, it only conducts it, so if you want to retain it you need something like the amethyst core in my blade or at the very least a magical field around the weapon, which is what the quillons are for on silver swords made by people who actually know what they're doing!"

Gah, that came out a lot louder than I'd wanted it to. Certainly more of a rant than I'd intended, too, but Alessia seems unfazed by this. In fact… I think she's even smiling. I open my mouth to give her the apology she deserves, but she cuts me off.

"You are quite passionate about silverworking, I see. Your knowledge of this topic is clearly extensive, as well—did you major in it at your university?"

"No, actually, my major was in spellcrafting, but both my moms are from established silversmithing lines. Not that you'd find us on any family trees, though; some idiot genealoger needed to come up with some notable achievement for the Fays—forcing the king to create the Ministry of Finance by being so incompetent they bankrupted not just their province but a bunch of the others around them wasn't glamorous enough, I guess—and attributed our silversmithing talents to them, never mind the fact that they govern the southwest of the country and we live in the mountains near the one where you were found… Ah, I went on a tangent there. Sorry."

"Please, do not apologize. This is all quite interesting—and it cannot be denied that I find it pleasant to know that you have two mothers as well."

"It's not that big of a deal, really. Just- wait, didn't you say that you'd forgotten the details before you were put in that pod?"

"No, I only stated that I had forgotten the details of the apocalypse I am meant to prevent. Which, in case you are wondering, I still do not fully recall. Other than that, however, I am certain I have said more than enough to suggest to you that I have not forgotten everything about what life was like prior to my interment."

Wait, right. She definitely has said more about Streician life than she would've been able to if she'd forgotten everything. In my defense, though, the past three days have been hectic, so I'm giving myself a pass for forgetting that. Anyway, now I've got a question of my own to toss at Alessia. "So, I've given you a bit about myself, now it's your turn: What were your moms like?"

"Oh!" Her eyes light up (figuratively, but I'm reasonably sure they also literally start glowing; they're orange, so I can't tell if they've actually lit up or if it's just the firelight), and her voice is significantly more expressive than usual. "They were… Well, I can't explain this in terminology that I'm certain you will understand, so stop me if I say anything that requires clarification.

"Anyway, they were the head caretakers for the project I am a part of. Their responsibility was simply to ensure my siblings and I knew what our duties were when we awoke, and that we knew our new responsibilities in case we were somehow woken too late." She catches my eye, anticipating the question I'm about to ask, and shakes her head. "Yes, I have siblings scattered around the planet. Unfortunately, I am the last unit in the activation queue; if I am active, as I am now, then that means that my siblings have either all failed in their duty somehow, or were not found in the first place. No one will prevent the end of the world if we do not.

"But I digress. Their responsibility began and ended with teaching us skills relevant to our tasks, but they went above and beyond, teaching us the intricacies of life outside of those tasks, playing with us in our down time to ensure we never got bored, reassuring us when the stress of our lessons and the task we were meant to do started to exceed our ability to handle it.

"That is not to say the rest of the facility staff did not do the same—it was a kind place—but our mothers did so most of all. I enjoyed those days greatly, but I suppose they are all in the distant past now." Alessia sighs, staring into the fire. "I would like to see them again, if that is possible, but their whereabouts, and what happened to them after we were interred, are completely unknown to me."

...How am I supposed to respond to that? I can't think of a single thing that would be appropriate, so I say nothing. Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Alessia to notice the silence.

"Ah, I apologize for putting you in such an awkward position. That was not my intention. Here, a question to lighten the mood: You say you were raised in the mountains near my facility. What was that like?"

—

The conversation seems promising. I'd love to tell Alessia more about my past, but I'm just too tired for it; I don't even get halfway through telling her about living in the Mournian's shadow before my eyes start getting heavy. It's very clear from the way she's yawning about twice a minute (and even dozing off sometimes) that she feels the same way, so I spread out the bedrolls we bought at Champirac, and indicate it to Alessia. It takes a while for her to figure it out, but eventually she's able to get into the bedroll, and I feel at ease enough to get into my own. But before I can shut my eyes, I hear Alessia talk one last time.

"Good night, Honorine."

Couldn't you have said that before I'd fully settled down for the night? Oh well, I may be tired, but I'm certainly not rude.

"Same to you, Alessia."

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