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

Ah, how I’ve missed having a roof over my head and a bed under me. The inn we’ve found isn’t that luxurious, or even above-average, but I’ll gladly take it over the bedroll at this point. The mattress, the pillows, the--

“...Honorine, what are you doing?”

Alessia’s voice snaps me out of my reverie, and it just hits me that I’ve been rolling around on the bed. “O-Oh, sorry. It’s just... I was getting tired of sleeping on a bedroll, and...”

“That is understandable, but there is a more pressing matter: What is our plan now? Time is undoubtedly running short, and I feel confident in saying that trains are out of the question for us now.”

“Hmm...” The question from earlier today comes back to the forefront of my mind. “How much time do we have left? Claudette said we have forty-nine days. That makes fifty, if we account for that night in Blankenräschen. We spent two in Champirac, including our arrival, so... That’s three days before meeting Otto.”

“Yes, that estimate is correct. Following that, we spent a week and a half walking here. Eleven days, to be exact. If we add that amount onto the time before our train was stopped, we have been traveling for two weeks. Accounting for today as well makes fifteen days, and leaves us with thirty-five. In other words, we have about a month.”

That’s relieving to know, but there’s something bugging me about our calculations... What about the other units?

True, Claudette never mentioned them, but the Atlas itself may have done so and she just found the information unnecessary or was accounting for Alessia’s position in the queue; I don’t have a copy of my own right now, so I can’t check, but I do have another source.

“Alessia, tell me more about your siblings.”

“Hm?” She tilts her head. “That is an unusual request, but I am happy to oblige: What would you like to know?”

“How many of them were there, and how does the activation queue work? Specifically, how does a given facility tell that it’s time to move along the queue?”

“I had three other siblings that I remember. As for the activation queue...” She pauses, no doubt to rack her brain for the memory. “The sites check for continued unit activity every seven days after initial activation, and if the currently-active site fails to receive confirmation that the mission is ongoing, it sends a signal... To the next site in the queue...”

No. If what she’s saying is right, then...

“And if the weekly verification of the next site confirms that the unit within it has not been activated...” Her eyes widen and her voice drops to a whisper; she’s clearly reached the same conclusion I have. “...then the queue also moves along.”

Oh, dear.

“I... I believe a recalculation of our available time is in order. Accounting for the weekly verification and my position in the queue, we may have actually lost thirty-six days, or just over five weeks, at minimum. This leaves us with...”

“...Two weeks.” I should be panicking right now. The world is about to end in two weeks, and the only way to stop it is to get to a city more than two weeks away without a train, but... I’m not? On the contrary, this is the most alive I’ve felt outside of a fight. A quick look at my watch says it’s half past five--wait, right, it’s broken. “What time is it, Alessia?”

“Half past five in the evening.”

Oh, of course it is. “Change of plans: You stay here, I’m going shopping. We no longer have any choice but to take our chances with a train tomorrow, so the sooner I can get us those disguises the better.”

“I understand. Please take care of yourself, and do not delay.”

--

My moms used to take me to Trapacenza every year to expose me to the markets here and teach me how to sell things, so the market isn’t that hard to find at all. It’s the same as ever: A beautiful mix of sights, scents, sounds and languages. The crowds are as thick as ever too, and I have no trouble blending in while I filter out the hawkers’ voices in search of a clothier or two.

“Guarithmi books here! Get your hands on the latest in science and technology, including Aba-Ya’qub’s ‘Treatise on the Stars’, translated for the first time!”

“Whether you want to show your love or wish a sick friend well, you’ll find your fit in our collection of flowers! Mishoujima lilies! Violets from Theklion!”

No, no, none of these are right...

“...ay dok kir!”

Wait a second. That was Celman--’come to me’. I home in on that voice, waiting for its owner to speak again. They do so--again in Celman--but now that I’m actually listening I can understand what they’re saying.

“Clothes for sale! If you want beautiful clothes like no other, look no further--I have all you need!”

There, I see them! The language is enough of a standout, but now that I’ve got a clear line of sight I can see their attire is distinctly Celman, right down to our distinctive silver jewelry. That’s as good a place to start as any, so I make my way through the crowds to get to the Celman’s shop.

“Greetings!” They start in Crouzite, but switch back to Celman once they see my own silver pendant. “Ah, a countrywoman! Hello, hello! What can I interest you in? Luxurious robes, maybe? I have just the color to bring those beautiful blue eyes out! Or, perhaps...” They lean in close, looking me up and down.

“Ah, I see. You’re an adventurer. In that case, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve just received a shipment of specialized traveller’s gear, reinforced with leather and silver for maximum protection against sword and sorcery alike. All for five deniers d’argent!”

Well, if that’s what they’re offering... “I’ll take two full sets of that gear, then... Do you have any in red?”

“Yes, certainly! Would you like both sets in red, or just the one?”

“Just one.”

“Very well!” The clothier claps. “Please wait here, I’ll get the items to you right quick.” They turn around, disappearing into the small structure at the back of their stall that I assume is their warehouse. While they’re gone, I’ll just--

“Honorine?”

Who’s calling my name? They’re speaking in Crouzite, so I need to be on guard. Hand on sword, I turn around and find... “Sabrina?”

“Yes, that’s my name. I wasn’t expecting to find you here. Not so soon, at least!” She seems a lot more cheerful than usual; almost like she’s happy to see me. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to fight you or anything. The opposite, actually. I, er...” She pauses to take a breath, one deeper than strictly necessary. “...can you help me pick out a new sword?”

“Wait, what? Why me? Couldn’t you buy one yourself?”

“Well, I can, but a second opinion would be nice... And you’re the most qualified person to give me one, I think. After all, your blade was able to break mine--you obviously know how to pick them.”

She’s got a lot of guts asking me to help her rearm given that all we’ve done so far is fight; I don’t really have any complaints about the idea of fighting, but our new deadline makes it a really bad idea to willingly add another obstacle to the pool...

“Please? The sooner I’ve got a new sword, the sooner we’ll be able to have a proper rematch.”

...Okay, I’m willing to make an exception for Sabrina; she does make a point about the rematch. “Fine, I’ll help, but only if we get to leave town without dueling you. It’s nothing personal, our countdown just got a lot shorter.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, and much like her breath, it’s maybe a little bigger than strictly necessary. Not that it lasts very long; the clothier comes back out from the warehouse, two bags in hand, and Sabrina immediately takes the smile off her face before they can see it.

“Thank you for your patience, here are the sets of traveling gear. As agreed, that’ll be ten deniers d’argent--”

They don’t even get to finish their sentence before Sabrina just... slaps two fat deniers d’or onto the table? The shopkeeper is just as confused as I am; that’s about twenty times the due amount. “A-Are you sure you can just part with this much...?” They ask in Crouzite.

“Keep the change, friend, I certainly don’t need it.” She takes my hand in hers, and grabs the bags with her free hand before dragging me away. “Now come on, Honorine, we have a sword to buy.” Once we’re out of the shopkeeper’s sight, she turns around to whisper to me: “Now you’re in my debt~”

Fine, then. “I guess I am. Let’s go get this sword; I left Alessia back at our inn, and the sooner I can get back to her the better.”

--

I know the Trapacenza market like the back of my hand, but I know the weapons part of it even better since most of my childhood visits were to this quarter specifically. My instincts take over, leading Sabrina and I past the big-name forges and popular armorers despite her protests.

As we go deeper, the generic, mass-produced swords and shields give way to elegant, handcrafted pieces, and before long we’re in the sweltering heart of the market, where the weapons are made before our very eyes by artisans proud of their ancestral trades. Here is where we’ll find Sabrina her sword... And maybe a less immediately-distinctive one for me.

“Ah, Honorine! Look here!” She picks up a longsword, the twin of the one I broke, and swings it around experimentally. “What do you think?”

Hmm... Now that it’s not aimed at me, I can get a better look at her fighting style. Her moves definitely show familiarity with the weapon type, but they also feel a bit clunky. “No. Absolutely not.” She puts the sword down and lets me drag her along to a store selling one-handed sabers. “Try one of the ones here?”

She nods, taking a yatagan from the display rack and swinging that around. She’s clearly more comfortable with light, one-handed weapons, but it’s just as clear that the forward curve of the blade is throwing her off somewhat. “Getting warmer. Try this one instead?” I hand her a silver kaskara, altered to absorb and redirect magic; I’m eyeing this one for myself, but it’s worth seeing how straight blades affect her movements.

No dice. She keeps trying to two-hand it. Maybe with time she could get used to the different grip, but time is exactly what we don’t have. I take the kaskara back, and reach for another sword: A shasqua, with a gently-curved blade and no guard.

It’s a perfect match. She seems quite at home with this one, with flowing, elegant swings that nevertheless stop and change directions on a dime. The new grace in her movements seems to have caught her off-guard, judging by the small ‘o’ her mouth forms, and I don’t blame her; she was already a joy to watch with the longsword, but with a weapon like this...

She’s something else. She wields the shasqua as much like a baton as like a sword, twirling and slashing in a dance that’s as beautiful as it is deadly-looking. I can’t deny it, I’m impressed.

“Yes, this is the one.” I nod at her, and we leave the area as soon as we’ve paid for the new swords.

--

The sun has started to set by the time we emerge from the weapons market, making the contrast between the heat of the forges and the cool of the outside world even worse, such that the slightest breeze forces the two of us to huddle together for warmth.

There’s nothing for us to do, and certainly no reason to continue sticking together like this, but I don’t think Sabrina minds it. I certainly don’t. She’s warm, and given how cold everything around us feels right now, I’d gladly stay here--

My train of thought is interrupted by Sabrina suddenly pulling me back. There’s a group of rail officers coming, ten by my reckoning, and she’s just pulled me out of their path. Each one of them is wearing a smug grin, and they’re snickering to each other about something. Their clothing is frustrating to look at too--I know those jackets mean something, the question is, what? More pressingly, though, what are they laughing about?

I inspect the crowd as they march by, and get my answer almost instantly: It’s Alessia, unconscious and jackknifed over an officer’s shoulder.

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