Having patiently waited in line for a bit longer than necessary, Python and Chirin found themselves at the cluttered counter of Budesca’s checkout desk. After briefly greeting the mechanic with a curt nod of acknowledgement, Python deftly pulled out her prized compass. With a click of its concealed button, she flicked it open and placed it squarely upon the center of the counter for the engineer to inspect. 

Python: “I’d like to have this compass fixed. I have a warranty on it.”

Now that Chirin was looking at it more closely, he could very clearly tell that it was a battered and bruised thing; its surface marred by deep scratches and weathered by the passage of time. Its delicate needle was oscillating wildly.

Chirin: (“Wow… I didn’t even know what a compass was up until this morning, but even I can tell that this thing is old… How long has Python even had this thing?”)

Chirin’s gaze flickered over to the engineer: a tall woman with long lashes, dark, grizzly hair, and large, round spectacles.

She adjusted her glasses before picking up the compass, clicking it open, and inspecting it as if it held the secrets of the universe, her steely, dark gaze narrowing. After a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, she put it down and pushed it back to Python, her head shaking.

Budesca Engineer: “Can’t fix it. Model’s outdated.”

Python: “Haaaah?!?!”

Python: “What do you mean you can’t fix it?! I was told that I have a warranty on this!”

Budesca Engineer: “Das’ exactly what I mean, Missy…”

(A muscle ticked in Python’s jaw.)

Budesca Engineer: “The model’s outdated. All of our current resources aren’t compatible with it anymore, so fixing it with what we have ain’t possible… That’s why all warranties last exactly five years. The writing on this ol’ baby here says it expired eleven years ago–”

Chirin blanched.

Chirin: (“The warranty lasted five years… It expired eleven years ago… It’s sixteen years old?!? I’m thirteen, and that compass is older than me!”)

Chirin: (“... Wait, I’m still thirteen… right?”)

(Chirin’s face went pale as he processed the implications of that question, the weight of possible lost years sinking in).

Chirin: (“Just how much time did I spend in that forest…? I’ll… have to ask Python what day it is later…”)

Budesca Engineer: “ —I’d suggest tradin’ it in for a small discount for a new’a model.”

Python visibly deflated.

Python: “I’ve had this since I started traveling… Ugh...What discount can I get if I trade it in?”

Budesca Engineer: “Hmmm… Well, seeing as how your compass is over fifteen years old… We can only give about’a five percent discount if you purchase a new’a model.”

Chirin’s gaze shot back and forth between both women.

Chirin: “... Sorry, but... Why five percent? Can’t you… I dunno… Give us more since she’s trading it in? We really need this. Please ma'am!”

The engineer’s dark gaze shot to Chirin, her gaze narrowing as if she were looking at something she didn’t understand. Chirin fought to not squirm under her intense scrutiny.

Budesca Engineer: “The value of technology depreciates every year. That compass ain’t worth as much as it used to be.”

Chirin: “But still—! I don’t think five percent is fair, Ma’am…”

Budesca Engineer: “… Strange-aura-lookin’ boy… Take anoth’a look at that compass. Can you really confidently say that it’s worth as much as all the new’a ones over here?”

She gestured to a display case behind her, filled with gleaming, brand-new compasses. Each one was a stark contrast from Python’s raggedy, old one. Upon seeing the new compasses, Chirin let out a short, exasperated huff.

Python: “I’ll get a new one. Just tell me how much it will cost me.”

Budesca Engineer: “Alrighty. Three hundred argentums. Give or take. With the discount included.”

Chirin: (“Argentums… that must be the name of currency Abyssians use…”)

Python: “T-Three hundred…”

Budesca Engineer: “Would ya’ like me to show you all of the options available?”

Python: “Don’t you have anything for cheaper than that? Three hundred argentums is pushing it a bit.”

Budesca Engineer: “Nuh uh.”

Python: “Please, we need this compass. Would you be… willing to take any other kind of payment for it?”

The engineer sighed and adjusted her glasses, before leveling the shorter women with a serious look.

Budesca Engineer: “... Listen Missy—”

Python bristled.

Python: “Don’t. Call me ‘Missy’...”

Budesca Engineer: “Miss—”

Python: “Python.”

The engineer narrowed her eyes, her veil of respectful patience slowly thinning away as her gaze hardened by the second.

Budesca Engineer: “Python. This ain’t Soullen. It’s Lamentation. It’s argentums or nuthin’. I’m just an employee tryin’ to run a business. An’ business ain’t gonna happen if ya’ don’t have argentums. I don't' make tha’ rules and I certainly know you know them. Business is business. If ya’ ain’t gonna do business, I’m gonna have to ask ya’ to leave.”

There was a heavy silence.

Python: “... Very well then. I’m leaving now. Have a nice day.”

Python respectfully dipped her head to the engineer before turning around, leaving the shop, and standing uncomfortably at the entrance. Chirin casually trailed at a cautious distance behind her, a concerned look etched across his face. He eventually fell to her side and cast a cautious, wide eyed side glance at her as he listened to her self-monologue.

Python: “ —Damn it all! The audacity… To tell me that I can’t even fix it even though I have a warranty on it…! Frickin Budesca—!”

Python: “I can’t afford a new one… If I have to work, how am I going to keep an eye on Chirin—-?”

Python: “Sweet monarchs, what am I going to—”

Python cut herself off, as if coming to a sudden realization. She brought a single hand to her mask, briskly pulling it over her face. 

Python: “No, no… Wait. I’m doing it again…”

She inhaled deeply, and released it with a long sigh.

Python: “Okay Python… Pull yourself together—”

Python: “ — You are a beautiful warrior. You’re not a toothless little girl anymore. You aren’t supposed to lose your coins over something as stupid as this. Beautiful warrior. Beautiful warrior. Beautiful warrior—”

With how absorbed she was in her self monologue, Chirin might as well not exist. He didn’t understand why something like this had gotten her so flustered. Especially considering the fact that they had been face-to-face and helpless against a powerful Elder Abyssian just hours before.

Chirin: “...Ma’am?”

Python fell silent, her posture suddenly going rigid, and her masked head inclining towards him.

Python: “Oh–! Chirin… You’re here! …How long were you standing there?”

Chirin: “Oh, uh… I just got here.”

Python: “... I see. Did you… hear anything…?”

Chirin: “N-No, I didn’t. You stormed out of Busdesca pretty quickly, so… yeah.”

He gave her his best smile, hoping to whoever or whatever the monarchs are that it looked convincing. To his relief, it worked well enough; Python visibly relaxed and leaned on a nearby light pole. Her arms crossed over each other as her gaze drifted to the darkening Abyssian sky.

Python: “Ah. Good. I need a minute. It seems like we’re going to be staying in Outcry much longer than I initially thought, so I’ll need to think of something else to do, I’m so—-”

She sighed and shook her head.

Python: “...That’s my bad.”

Chirin’s frown deepened.

Chirin: “Are you okay?”

Python: “...I’m fine.”

Chirin: (“No you’re not. I saw you like this earlier today too…”)

He stared at her for a long moment, his frown deepening by the second as he watched what he could see of his companion’s face twitching with barely masked frustration.

Chirin: (“She looks exactly how I feel right now.”)

Taking a deep breath, he extended his hand, and lightly rested it on her elbow. It was a silent gesture, one that he hoped would bring some sense of relief from her inner turmoil.

Chirin: “If it’s argentums we need to get a new compass and get through Fraud safely… I don’t mind staying here for as long as we need to to get it done… Uhm… uh…”

He suddenly felt the weight of the coin in his pocket.

Chirin: (“I’ll admit… I’m still mad at her for calling my dad a ‘fool’ but… I don’t like seeing her like this.”)

Clumsily, he pulled the coin out and offered it to her, his gaze avoiding hers.

Chirin: “You can take it back. We need money, so… this isn’t useless anymore!”

Python: “What—? No… It’s not useless, Chirin… That’s yours. Put it away.”

Chirin: “No. Just take it.”

Python: “... No?”

Chirin leveled Python with a serious look.

Chirin: “Can I be honest with you about something? I feel like I’m holding you back since most of the time, I can’t really do anything about anything, and… I’ve done nothing but follow you today. If that’s how it’s always going to be, then what else am I other than…”

He sighed and shook his head, the word ‘useless’ going unsaid.

Chirin: “Everything here is supposed to be a two-way deal, right? Well, let me add to our deal. Tell me what I need to do to help you. Our two way deal is also a two way effort. Take my coin.”

Python’s expression softened.

Python: “Chirin…”

Python: “I—-”

She trailed off abruptly, her gaze transfixed on a point just behind Chirin. Her lips contorted into a malevolent snarl as she addressed whatever was behind him. Her sudden change in demeanor was jarring.

Python: “...Hey, buddy, you’re getting awfully close to us right now and I’m not appreciating that at all. Stop staring at my friend all creepy-like and back off.”

Chirin cautiously turned around, only to be met with the looming presence of a stranger who stood uncomfortably close to him. His eyes bore an unnatural, hungering gleam; unnaturally dark and laser-focused on Chirin and nothing else, and his face was littered with cracks– so delicately put together that it almost looked like any amount of damage would cause him to shatter.

The man let out a long sigh, his warm breath tickling Chirin’s forehead, and a chill coursed through his body as an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. 

There was something very off with this Abyssian.

???: “You. Boy.”

Chirin: “M-Me?”

???: “Yes, you.”

Python growled.

Python: “I said back off.”

The stranger stepped away a bit, but his gaze remained stone-cold and unmoving on Chirin.

Hvitur Lockweed: “M-My apologies— I am Hvitur Lockweed.”

He extended his hand: that of which sported long jet black nails that curved like cleavers. When neither Chirin nor Python reached out to shake it, he meekly pulled it back, appearing slightly disappointed.

Hvitur Lockweed: “...I couldn’t help but notice that aura of yours. It’s the most 𝘦𝘹𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦 thing I’ve ever come across. Y𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯—”

His large, clawed hand fell on Chirin’s shoulder, tightening into an almost painful vice-like grip that drew a small yelp from Chirin as nails pierced through his skin. 

But at that same moment, Python’s own hand gripped Hvitur’s wrist, and she squeezed harder. His face contorted with pain, and his grip on Chirin’s shoulder hardened. Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes as searing hot pain pierced through his body. 

Chirin fought the urge to scream.

Python: “ D o n ’ t     y o u    d a r e    t o u c h    h i m . ”

Her voice resonated with such deep, profound, righteous fury that Chirin barely recognized it as her own.

Hvitur Lockweed: “L-Let go, Missy—-!”

Python hissed, and the Hvitur began to pull back. After a short moment of resistance from Python’s front, she reluctantly released him, and the taller man backed away, shaking out his wrist with a wince. 

Chirin felt blood begin to seep through his clothing. With a free hand, he covered the affected area in a meek attempt to alleviate the pain. A few Abyssian pedestrians within earshot paused, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding scene happening in such a bustling, public space.

Hvitur Lockweed: “ —I just… wanted to ea– 𝘢𝘴𝘬… ask the 𝘣𝘰𝘺 a question... Tell me, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘯. How many 𝘈𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘴 did it take to get an aura like that? How many? How did you do it without going crazy?!”

Chirin edged closer to Python, his eyes widening with a mixture of confusion and fear as he gazed deeply into the abyss that was Hvitur’s gaze.

Chirin: “...W-What?”

Hvitur Lockweed: “Please. I have to know. Please. I don't have much time!”

The number of inquisitive onlookers continued to increase, with some showing visible unease towards Hvitur through suspicious glances and hushed murmurs.

Python: “I’m not gonna say it again: Back off, or you’re not gonna like what I do to you next.”

Something about Python's threat appeared to strike a chord with Hvitur. His posture eased slightly, and he stepped away as if he were being hit by a strong breeze. Then, he reluctantly shifted his attention away from Chirin, to the small gathering of concerned onlookers, and then to Python. 

There was a sudden, unmistakable clarity in his gaze, a far cry from the darkness that was directed at Chirin.

Hvitur Lockweed: “I.. I’m sorry. I lost myself for a minute and you—”

He spared a glance at Chirin and shook his head.

Hvitur Lockweed: “...Actually, no. That was warranted. Look, I’ll leave. I’m leaving… I’m sorry…”

Hvitur swiftly pivoted and began to withdraw, his posture hunched as he cradled his injured wrist. Shifting a bit to the side, his darkening gaze met Chirin’s own.

Hvitur Lockweed: “Have a pleasant evening. Young man, I truly hope we don’t cross paths again.”

The small group of spectators parted, offering a more than ample enough berth for Hvitur as he departed. His gaze scanned through all of them as he passed, almost as if he were sizing up each and every individual who dared to meekly avoid him.

After Hvitur melted into the bustling crowd, Python visibly relaxed, and the gathering of concerned Abyssians quickly dissipated as their interest waned, with some sending the pair a respectful nod, small words of relief, or compliments on Chirin’s “tenacity” before continuing their domestic duties.

(The “tenacity” comment had confused Chirin a bit. He didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean).

Despite the obvious threat of Hvitur being gone, Chirin remained steadfast in his unease. He gazed distantly at where he left, his form quivering. The place where Hvitur had grabbed him ached, almost as if he had been burned by the contact. Python turned to Chirin, concern evident on what Chirin could see on her face.

Python: “Chirin… Why is the place where that creep grabbed you turning red? Are you okay?”

Chirin: (“...Turning red? ”)

He glanced at his shoulder, going a bit pale at the sight of a dark-colored patch that was steadily growing larger on his shirt.

Chirin: “Oh! —m’ Just bleeding a bit on my shoulder, that’s all. The blood just soaked through my clothing. I’ll be okay…”

Python was silent for an uncomfortably long moment, staring at Chirin as if he were some new, undiscovered species that suddenly jumped in front of her.

Python: "...Blood? You're bleeding... On your shoulder?"

A 𓇗  𓆸 A ᪥ L

__________

BONUS!

tfw u can't read.