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20 Minutes Later

Just at the Southern Edge of the North Rythian Forests – The Kingdom of Transgracia – Nexus. Local Time: 1105 Hours

Thalmin

Flames lazily licked the air, its hazy shimmer casting a blurry aura behind Aquastride. 

The entire composition was worthy of a painting, perhaps even a mural in a gallery detailing the events of my life.

Though sadly that thought was merely one of passing pyromanic interest. 

For the reality of the situation was simple — these unwanted flames were threatening both our spoils and our increasingly dwindling time.

Thankfully, it was Aquastride herself who would bring an end to the disaster of her creation. With a stomp of her foot, she summoned a wave of water that doused most of the fire, leaving but embers and acrid smoke in her chaotic wake.

I spent a second meeting her gaze following that, ensuring that she understood well how unacceptable her actions were.

Though a flick of her ears and a smarmy whinny were more than enough to send home her own message.

She was bowed but not yet broken.

A fitting companion to a Havenbrockian for sure but entirely impractical outside of the allegorical connotations.

It didn’t take long for me to take stock of the decidedly dire situation, one that was serenaded by the long and drawn-out mewls from Katiya, who looked on at the entire sorry sight with a wide-eyed expression bordering on tears.

But as unsalvagable as it might have seemed from a commoner’s eyes, the circumstances at present were readily recoverable, especially as I saw that most of the spoils were barely even licked by the flames in question.

And while the cart was rather worse for wear, its undercarriage bent, buckled, and even shorn in places, a quick look-over of the whole scene would be all it would take to make amends for an otherwise sorry situation.

“Stand back.” I spoke firmly, causing the whimpering Baxi to leap backwards and Emma to simply look on with crossed arms at what was to come.

I reached out both hands, palms forward and fingertips poised towards the ramshackled vehicle.

Emma

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

What Thalmin was attempting and indeed succeeding at… was nothing short of remarkable, as the charred remains were quickly and abruptly taken apart and sorted.

Burned-out parts and piles of ash were separated, leaving only mostly intact pieces to float a few meters above the blackened dirt.

It was not unlike the sort of scene you’d see from a VR modeler’s Dev Rooms, with each component isolated and floating in a schematic sort of assemblage.

This stage lasted for just about half a minute as Thalmin seemed to study, analyze, and then compile whatever it was he needed to before rapidly going into what I dubbed the ‘assembly’ phase.

Broken wooden planks and twisted metal chassis were all quickly righted, the former being reassembled — charred paint, shorn finishings, and bent trimmings notwithstanding — whilst the latter was bent back into shape.

I heard the collective cries of a hundred hobby mechanics all screaming at once upon seeing that particular fix.

A ghostly visage of Aunty Ran’s reflexive eye-twitch accompanied all of them, as I could just about imagine the same thing happening to her prized NAMW-GTR. 

But as quickly as these sentiments emerged, so too were they silenced, as none of their concerns bore any weight now that magic was involved.

Maybe Thalmin had imbued the fix with some restorative spells. Maybe it was more complex than it looked. There was definitely no use in applying Earth logic to this particular situation.

“I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself here, Thalmin.” I spoke confidently through the earpiece, to which Thalmin was quick to deploy his privacy screen in response. 

“Much appreciated, Emma.” He acknowledged proudly.

“So tell me, exactly how are you doing all of this? The planks are easy enough to gather, but what about the chassis? Did you ‘undo’ all of the micro-stress fractures? Reverse the damage, or imbue it with some kind of, like, mechanical ‘healing’ spell? I’m sure it’s not as simple as just… bending it back into shape manually, right?” I chuckled at my previous presumptiveness… only to have Thalmin look back at me with a confused look and a cock of his head.

“Er, that’s precisely what I did, Emma.”

“You mean one of the former options, right?” I countered with a huff. “Right?”

Thalmin simply stared at me blankly before shrugging outright. “I just… bent the chassis back until it looked straight enough. T’was as simple as that.” 

…

It was around this time that I could feel the collective ‘I told you so’s’ of Aunty Ran and her car enthusiast friends.

Then again, it was always better to be open-minded and wrong rather than presumptuous and then proven wrong.

“It should hold together for our purposes, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Thalmin spoke reassuringly, pointing at the now… serviceable cart. Still singed, still burned-out, but more or less in roadworthy condition. “But now comes the difficult part.” He took a deep breath. “The matter of our looted wares and the fate of our sole survivor.”

“It should be straightforward, right?” I offered. “We sell the loot, take the gold, and then distribute it amongst ourselves and Katiya? Send her off with a fresh start and some starter funds? Enrich ourselves so we’re not always broke and asking mom for pocket money?”

Thalmin was poised to respond… before being taken aback by that latter statement.

“Mother?”

“Oh, er, sorry, probably a joke in poor taste.” I managed out with a chuckle and an attempt at a head scratch. “I was referring to Thacea.”

“Emma, I’ve said this to Thacea before, but I think this warrants me saying something along the same vein to you as well. You shouldn’t treat Thacea as an anchor, in your case, for—”

“Oh, nonono. That’s not what I meant at all.” I cut Thalmin off before he could get any more ideas. “It’s just a joke, a common saying back home. We’re… sort of using Thacea as our personal ATM, sort of like how a kid might ask their parents for money and such.” 

“Ah.” Thalmin nodded, eyes wide with a hint of abashment. “I retract my earlier statement and apologize for the presumptuousness, Emma.”

“Nah, it’s alright, Thalmin. We’re both… kinda frazzled still, so it’s fine.”

A collective nod of awkwardness was all it took for us to get back on track, and this time Thalmin was on it.

“The matter of liquidating ‘loot’ is more complicated than what you make it out to be.” He began with a tired breath. “This is primarily due to taxes levied against your gains. And specifically, how it is you wish to treat the liquidation in question.” 

I felt all the wonder garnered from Thalmin’s wagon reassembly just about shatter at that utterance. As I felt it was just about my turn to be on the receiving end of the glut of bureaucratic infodumps.

“Of course it’d be taxes…” I mumbled, but gestured to Thalmin to continue all the same.

“We can declare our earnings as salvage, but we’d need to sell said wares at salvage rates. Alternatively, we may just as easily declare our earnings as justly gathered loot, though this now raises the question of how it is we wish to sell. Sales-per-item incur a different form of taxation, as well as scrutiny, as opposed to sales-per-lot, or ‘wholesale’ as it is sometimes referred to by lesser merchants.” 

My eyes widened at that latter explanation, as I recalled the mystery boxes from Elaseer. “You mean like the loot boxes that dwarf was hawking in town?” 

Thalmin thought back for a moment, closing his eyes, before nodding. “Yes. Though those are wholesale resellers, buying the sales-per-lot loot from second-party vendors. The sort of vendors we will be dealing with.”

I could start to see the complexities of this magical salvage market economics forming in my head. The different tax rates, the volume of business, and the narrow gaps between all of this where profit margins were made; they determined the sort of business one would operate.

It was… fascinating, as fascinating as it was a headache for us to deal with.

“Alright, alright. So… what do you suggest we do?” I cut to the chase, deferring everything to the mercenary prince.

“It is Katiya who must sell everything on our behalf.” Thalmin spoke with a disappointed huff.

“To avoid the heat being traced back to us, I imagine?”

“Correct.”

“But… wouldn’t this mean she’d be the one taking the heat on our behalf? I’m one for practicality, but not at the cost of someone’s—”

“There will be no risk to her person, legally or otherwise, Emma.” Thalmin interjected with a reassuring bluntness. “The loot she gathered was obtained post mortem, and her being the sole survivor… coupled with the now charred remains of some of the loot, simply adds to the authenticity and thus lack of scrutiny in her transactions. The spoils of the fallen becoming the boons of the industrious is a fundamental constant. That is not what I am worried about when it comes to Katiya, as there exists a more pertinent danger she is susceptible to.”

“That is…?”

Thalmin subtly cocked his head towards Katiya — the yellow and white Baxi busy staring… and then toying with butterflies off in the corner of my vision — saying all that needed to be said without uttering a single word.

“Right, she’s probably not street hawker material, I’m guessing.” I offered politely.

“That’s putting it lightly, but yes.” Thalmin acknowledged with a defeated sigh. “Still, it is a necessity.” He quickly righted himself, clearly in an attempt to hype himself up. “I’m confident she’s capable, we just need to brief her carefully.”

“Correction, you are going to be saddled with that responsibility, Ser Dreadwolf.” I chuckled deviously, causing the prince to let out another huff of defeat.

“In any case, this leaves us with a secondary problem.”

“And that is?”

“Suspicion-by-proxy.” 

“Huh?”

“Imagine how it would look if we returned to the Academy much better off. Especially considering the few avenues we both have for accruing gold. This goes beyond the sales of our looted wares and into the actual coin gathered from the fallen as well.” Thalmin explained.

“We could just… give everything to Katiya then.” I shrugged. “She… does look like she’ll need the money, and honestly, speaking purely from an opportunity cost perspective? The purchasing power we’d gain from the acquisition of this gold will be outweighed by the risks incurred by just holding it.” 

It was Thalmin’s turn to be cocking his head yet again, as he seemed to be processing my line of thinking before nodding once in acknowledgement.

“I see your point.” He began. “But I disagree with it.” He capped off firmly. “I happen to like gold. And it would be a shame if we abandoned the honor we’d regain by acquiring our financial freedom by giving into cowardice masquerading as risk mitigation.”

We stared each other down, politely, but clearly at a crossroads at what was to come.

Katiya didn’t seem to mind either way though, as she continued to obliviously toy with the insects underneath a rock.

“At least ask if she’d want the money, or if she needs it.” I countered softly, Thalmin’s features actually softening for a moment at that latter line.

“I…” He took a breath before letting it all out in a frustrated huff. “Alright.” 

Katiya

I remained away, distant enough that I wouldn’t interfere with Ser Dreadwolf’s fixes for the problems of my own making.

Shame flooded me. Shame of my own inadequacies, my own deficiencies, and my own constant failures.

And so I let go of it all.

Focusing instead on the moment, the blissful glee of simply being… alive after everything.

The harsh stomps of two sets of armored feet brought me back to the realities of the world, however, as I turned around cautiously, ears lowered in a mix of deference and fear.

“Katiya.” Ser Dreadwolf’s unmistakable voice called forth, firm, stoic, and resolute but most worryingly of all… tempered by what felt like a dour reluctance.

“Y-yes, Ser Dreadwolf?” I answered instinctively, my attention forced to meet his own and my whole body quaking in what was potentially to come.

“We need to discuss something important.”

I felt myself falling into a pit of my own creation, fearing the worst, expecting some sort of despisal.

This… was a long time coming — the promised end to a pathetic life that had practically led up to a moment such as this.

Though in that void of despair, I quickly made peace. Peace in knowing that my end would at least be by the hands of the chivalrous, rather than those darkened by hubris.

“Y-yes, Ser Dreadwolf.” I acknowledged solemnly, expecting the worst.

“How much debt are you currently in?”

My spiral stopped.

But it didn’t yet reverse, as confusion merely took its place.

“I… I don’t understand—”

“Are you in need of money, Katiya?” Ser Dreadwolf clarified with annoyance.

“Y-yes, I am, Ser Dreadwolf.” I answered bluntly. “As for debt, I surprisingly do not have much in the way of it. I tend to live below my means.” I explained sheepishly.

“I was thinking of perhaps giving you the entire earnings from this venture. What say you to that notion?”

My whole body tensed once more. 

But this time, out of an entirely different fear.

Thalmin

“N-no…” Katiya finally managed out meekly, which came as more than a complete and utter surprise.

I turned to Emma before cocking my head in confusion at the baxi.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. Most commoners would flock to the idea of such a boon.” I questioned.

“Er, my refusal was not meant as a show of disrespect, Ser Dreadwolf! It’s just, I… well… you see, it…” The baxi’s words unraveled right out of the gate, as she took a moment to pause before finally locking eyes with me… albeit cautiously.

“I’m not good with money.”

I blinked at that response. 

“That… that doesn’t really seem to be a cause to turn down coin.” I countered bluntly.

“Y-you don’t understand, Ser Dreadwolf. I… I’m very, very bad with money.” The Baxi attempted to clarify, practically reaching into the back of her skull for an answer. 

“Do you mind if I pry further?” I pushed further, now curious more than anything.

“I… I would rather not, Ser Dreadwolf.” Katiya, surprisingly, stood her ground this time. Garnering a questioning glare from me and, I assume, Emma as well. 

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. “We’ll split the earnings then. Though I must warn you, I am going to need you to act on my behalf as the arbitrator of liquidation.”

Katiya paused, frowning, before cocking her head in rapid succession. “What?”

“I’m going to need you to sell the loot because I’d rather not be associated with this whole affair.” I simplified, garnering a series of ‘aahs’ from the baxi, who crossed her arms in solemn contemplation.

“I… I can do that. Though I cannot guarantee good returns.” 

“I will teach you.” I announced firmly. “So that by the time we arrive at Telaseer, you will be, at the very least, a competent barterer.”

It was only upon the baxi’s shaking that I realized I might have gone a bit too zealous with my confident affirmations, prompting me to take a step back, gesturing towards the cart. “Go now. I will join you shortly.”

“Yes, Ser Dreadwolf!”

With that, Emma and I were once more alone, allowing me to return to our ongoing point of contention.

“That’s the taxation situation sorted.” I spoke under a privacy screen. “But that’s only half the battle.”

“We’re going to need some proof of income, or at least a money trail, right?” Emma surmised.

“For the vast majority of our looted gold—” I paused, reaching for a bag I’d pilfered from the interior of the cart… one with a sizable amount of gold. “—yes.”

“Any suggestions you’d like to throw in the ring?” Emma inquired urgently, as if she had something brewing in her mind.

“Nothing beyond the ordinary.” I offered with a shrug. “I was thinking of simply using the coin to buy items of value before selling them in Elaseer to bolster our liquid capital as we see fit.” 

“A valid strategy, I’ll give you that. Respectable, and definitely way more noble than what I had in mind.” Emma announced with an increasingly diabolical cadence, edging into a mischievousness she sometimes fell into.

“I assume you have another idea?” I spoke with a facetiously flippant sigh, willing to humor her for her sake and for the slimmest of hopes that this may result in something tangible.