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Chapter 17: Food Cart
🕑 Added 2024-03-20 22:02:21 +0000 UTC“Arthur. Arthur. The demon world would like a word.” Noises that sounded suspiciously like Milo’s voice floated through the fog that was Arthur’s head. “Arthur. Wake up.”
Arthur felt a sudden impact on his arm, which finally snapped him out of the mist of romantic fantasies.
“You hit me!” Arthur rubbed his arm.
“I did. I was worried you were poisoned, or something.” Milo grinned at him. “Now that I see you aren’t… you talked to her, huh?”
“Yeah. It was not bad, I think?” He looked down at his open pack, where the plant she had given him was still nestled at the top of his other goods. “She gave me a flower.”
“Well, well. That sounds promising.” Milo looked legitimately surprised. “I’ve seen other demons try to talk to her before. She usually freezes them out.”
“I don’t think she does that on purpose. For what it’s worth. She’s just… I think words are hard for her.”
“Well, we have about an hour left, anyway. You need to do more foraging? I’ve already found about everything I’m going to find.”
Arthur had almost forgotten why he had come to the forest in the first place. He had some good stuff, but could definitely fit a lot more into his bag, even with the fact that he now had a semi-precious flower to take care of.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Arthur closed his bag and began to walk, Milo at his side. “By the way, I meant to ask you and never did. What’s with the whole ‘my people hunted yours’ thing? The way Mizu greets people, I mean.”
“Oh, that,” Milo said. “Most demon races are peaceful now. But every now and again, the city gets attacked by some mountain tribe of demons, and we drive it off. That’s about the worst of it, and we’re also considered a frontier city. It’s been that way for a long time. But a few centuries ago, it wasn’t that way. There were wars, big ones.”
“And the elementals fought in them?”
“One of them. Less than any other species.”
Arthur tried to puzzle that out. “It must have been pretty bad, if they’re still asking everyone to forgive them.”
“Arthur, you’ve seen our town. There’s a dozen species of demons there. Do you really think everyone hasn’t already forgiven each other? They have. It’s all over. We exist in harmony and all that,” Milo laughed. “Theirs was a war of defense, one they lost, and by all accounts, one where they tried to limit enemy casualties as much as possible.”
“So why are they apologizing still?”
“Because they never forgave themselves. Believe me, everyone has tried to get them to. They just won’t. War is pretty incompatible with who they are, I guess.”
Arthur tried to imagine the kind of people who, as a race, would still hold themselves accountable for killing others, centuries after everyone else had forgiven and forgotten.
“I like that about them,” he said, deciding he really did.
“Everybody does. That’s why they get invited to parties still, even though they don’t talk much.”
Soon enough, it was time to head back. Milo didn’t go into detail on what he had gained experience-wise from the trip, but he looked pleased enough and said the foraging for materials and dagger-loaning had been enough to push his blacksmithing skill up one more precious, hard-to-attain level.
Arthur hadn’t come away empty-handed, either.
Arthur Clarendon
Level 3 Teamaster
Stats:
STR 5
VIT 5
DEX 5
PER 7
WIS 5
INT 5
Unassigned Stat Points: 2
Primary Skills: Food Scientist (Level 4)
“Gonna put those in vitality and dexterity?” Milo asked, looking at the screen Arthur had flicked over. “You had a hard enough time walking here.”
“I… shoot.” He wanted to. He really did. But Ella had said perspective was the most important thing right now. “I think I have to put them in perspective. Damn.”
“Well, it’s your legs. Good luck, buddy.”
The walk back was a new kind of hell. His new perspective points showed up right away, mostly by letting him know that virtually everyone else, even the crafters, had dedicated at least one point to some stat that helped them keep up. He didn’t have that luxury. By the time they got back to the gates of town and were waved through by an amused looking guard, he collapsed on the ground. The only thing Arthur was thankful for was when he found that Mizu had just kept walking and couldn’t see his pain.
“I told you,” Milo said.
“You did.” Arthur sat up, desperately trying to rub the cramps out of his thighs and calves. “It was probably still the right choice, but I don’t think I’d make it again.”
Milo sat down next to him.
“You don’t need to wait for me, Milo. Go home. Eat dinner. Catalog your rocks.”
“I’m not leaving you in the street. Even if you are stupid. And weak. Physically inadequate in so many different ways that…”
“I get it. I’ll put a point in dexterity, next time. Or vitality. Something.”
“You should. It’s hard being friends with someone who looks like they are going to topple over every time the wind blows.”
Milo’s teasing was cut short as the road suddenly exploded in noise as a massive, red object descended from the sky. It crashed down with enough force that it kicked up a cloud of dust and drove a few cobblestones down into the earth.
“I found you!” the meteor boomed, uncurling into the form of a large, red man. “What took you so long coming back?”
“Dammit, Karbo!” the guard shouted, moving in from the gate with his halberd pointed at the big red ball of danger. “I’ve told you not to do that! Not everything is an emergency!”
“This is! It’s very important!” Karbo waved his arms in front of him, as if in explanation.
“Is it? What’s so very important it that you had to save two extra seconds by jumping buildings?”
Karbo looked at Arthur, his face suddenly grave.
Arthur’s thoughts went into a spin. Milo’s here, so he’s not hurt. Who else could it be? Eito? Ella? Did they decide that humans aren’t welcome, after all?
Karbo bent down suddenly, matching his eyes to Arthur's, still dead serious.
“Arthur.”
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
“A food cart has opened up. Near the town square. It’s vacant, Arthur. Vacant.”
Arthur looked at the guard, half expecting him to stab Karbo in frustration. Instead, he looked shocked.
“Wait, really?” the guard asked, eyebrows arched.
“Are you sure?” Milo looked similarly surprised, springing to his feet.
“I saw him packing up myself. Apparently, his mother isn’t doing so well, and she’s in the capitol. He’s moving home.”
Arthur glanced from person to person, perplexed. “And this is important, why?”
Milo bent back down, grabbing Arthur by his shoulders and trying to drag him back to his feet. “Because you’re a food class, you idiot, and because this never happens. It could be years before another cart opens up in a good part of the city.”
“Yeah, kid. Big opportunity.” The guard stored his halberd. “Almost big enough to forgive this idiot for breaking the road. You know I’m still fining you, right?”
“No problem. But, Arthur, I need you to get up. We need to go now if we’re going to beat the rush.”
Arthur looked to Milo for confirmation. Milo nodded. “He’s not wrong. Go. Fast. Work out the details later.”
“Well, that might be a problem. I can’t really walk right now.”
“Wait, from a forest stroll?” Karbo said. “You burned out your legs after a simple picnic?”
“Look, man, I’m trying. I just don’t have any points in physical stats, just yet.” Arthur winced as Milo finally hauled him to his feet. “I can go, I’m just not going to be that fast.”
“Oh, no, that’s not gonna work.” Karbo reached down and looped his arm around Arthur’s waist. Arthur yelped as the infernal tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then he looked at Milo.
“You can get home, without getting a cramp?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then I’m off. And sorry about the road, Dena.”
“Just don’t do it again.”
Karbo flexed his legs slightly as he set himself for a sprint.
“You know I’m going to.”
And then Arthur was flying. He realized now that every time he had seen Karbo move, he had been holding back his speed to let Arthur and Eito keep up. Now, in some kind of a hurry, it was like riding a racing motorcycle that steered itself and carried you in a way that didn’t allow you to see what was coming. It took several seconds for Arthur to give up on his own preservation-of-life rigidity, take a breath, and determine that he was going to do his best to enjoy the ride.
“So, what do you think?” Karbo asked.
“I think that guard is going to stab you with a halberd,” Arthur said.
“Dena? Don’t worry about him. I’ve known him forever. I’ll buy him some wine later, and all will be forgiven,” Karbo laughed. “But I meant the ride.”
“It’s terrifying. But you can really move, can’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s the whole point of a physical class. The world gets out of your way. Now, how do you feel about windows? I promise you won’t get cut.”
“Wait, what?” Arthur said, a moment too late, as Karbo pushed off even harder, took to the air, and shouted something nearly incomprehensible about broken glass. Arthur closed his eyes and braced just in time to hear the shattering of glass all around him and to feel the sudden deceleration of Karbo slamming into the stone floor interior of some building.
“Karbo, you twice-damned musclebound ass!” A new voice rang out. As Karbo flipped Arthur off his shoulder and back onto his feet, he caught sight of a small, spectacled badger-person rising from his desk. “I just fixed that! Just now. Just today. Why are you breaking my windows?”
“It’s this boy!” Karbo yelled. “He’s the offworlder!”
“He was an offworlder before too! When you broke my window the first time!” The badger strode up to Karbo and started kicking his legs without much visible effect. “These things cost money!”
“I’ll pay for the window!” Karbo yelled.
“That’s not the point!”
“You said it was!”
Arthur decided it was about time to interrupt.
“I’m sorry to bust in, but why am I here?” he asked. “Besides being an offworlder. Which I already knew.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” the badger said. “I was distracted by a big ball of idiot. I’m Pico. And you are Arthur, which I’ve already heard. I’m glad to welcome you to our town. Even if you helped increase this fool’s mass. My poor window.”
“Pico’s the mayor,” Karbo said. “He’s a good guy. And he’s in charge of food carts.”
“Samu’s in charge of food carts.”
“You know he’s not. Arthur, food is important to the town. Especially food near the center of the town. And this guy eats. So he makes all the final decisions on the food, whether he admits it or not.” Karbo brushed some glass off Arthur, straightening out his human clothes with huge infernal hands before pushing him forward towards Pico. “Pico, Arthur is a food class. Already. He needs a cart. The sausage cart is empty. I want him to have that space.”
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