Chapter Three - Part II:

Chores and Payday

They followed the dirt path past uneven fence posts,

some bent from inside pressure,

others clawed.

A few rows of crops were still standing, barely.
Near the edge of a broken irrigation trough,

someone moved.

Half-hidden behind a gnawed redleaf stalk,

a swirled horn rose into view.
Then came the small frame beneath it,

no taller than Hanna when Jane met her,

but with four arms,

busily adjusting a damaged valve.

A Mundi.

Jane stepped closer, raising her hand,

steady but light.

"Hi,

excuse me.

Do you know where the owner is?"

The Mundi blinked, turned toward Jane.

He replied in smooth, layered tones (in Pyrali):
"Bu’uplra thulvel Chakshu"

Pointing with two of his left fingers toward the main house.
Then returned to his work without pause.

Jane and Hanna looked at each other.

Hanna tilted her head slightly, smirking.

"I'm pretty sure he said

 I’m prettier than you when the sun touches my hair."

A man came from the side path,

carrying something wrapped in cloth,

grinning as he passed.

"You got it close.
He said the owner's inside.

Don’t worry,

she knows Common."

They started to walk toward the house,

avoiding some smashed crops on the way.

The house creaked as they stepped inside.

Not broken,

just old.

The air inside smelled like pressed leaves

and salted wood.

A cracked window let in a narrow strip of sun that hit the kitchen wall.

A woman was kneeling near the oven,

tying bundles of dried stalks.

Her back,

broad.

Sleeves rolled to the elbow.

No jewelry.

One braid tucked behind her left ear.

“Give me a second.” Without turning.

Jane stood still.

Hanna hovered by the doorway,

eyes scanning a shelf of pickled roots.

The owner turned.

“You’re from the Vault?”

Jane nodded.

“We got your report.

 You mentioned Lynts.”

The woman stood,

wiped her hands on her apron.

“Three nights ago.

 They came down from the ridge trail.

 Small herd.

Four,

maybe five.

Hit the redleaf rows.

Trampled the irrigation basin.”

Jane looked outside, then turned to the Owner.

“You know where they went?”

The Owner pointed through the window.

“West fence.

 There’s a bend in the treeline.

If they stayed close,

you’ll see where the bark’s peeled.”

Hanna bowed respectfully.

“Thank you,

we will start right away.”

Jane followed Hanna outside, moving without sound.

They passed the fence entering the forest,

the trees thinned slightly.

Walked for a while.

Then, just beyond the ridge curve—
stripped bark, like someone had peeled back old paper.

Fresh claw lines curved over the edge of a sunken grove.

Deep enough that light didn’t reach the bottom.

It smelled of crushed root, wet leaves, and fur.

Jane knelt.

Tapped the dirt sometimes.

Ran her fingers through loose bark.

Nostrils flared,

eyes narrowed.

“What a mess.”

They followed a path of long fur

just enough to reveal the break.

They burst from the lower brush like a snapped net.

First Lynt:

fur matted in sap,

curved horn chipped.

Eyes fogged.

Second:

larger.

Rear foot dragging.

Spit hissed from its mouth like steam.
Third and fourth followed.

Smaller, but faster.

Coated in ash.

Jane was already moving.

The first slammed low,

she twisted,

planted her shield, took the impact with both feet grounded.

The second circled wide,

Hanna dropped a slick of frost between two rocks.

The Lynt skidded,

stumbled,

flipped.

Thud!

The third hit harder.

Jane grunted as her shield rang again.
This time,

she rolled under the chin,

came up behind,

slammed her elbow into the beast’s flank.

Then kicked it sideways into a trunk.

The bark cracked.

Two more crashed in from the left.

Larger.

Fangs yellowed.

One, foaming at the jaw.
The air shifted.

Jane didn’t look back.

“Don’t.

You promised.”

;

Behind her,
Hanna’s hand hovered halfway through the second glove.
The air shimmered faintly.

Jane’s stance didn’t change.

“Trust me.”

“I can handle three

or four of these oversized wigs.”

Hanna exhaled.

Not angry,

just pulled back.

Glove stayed half-on.

The heat faded.

Jane took the first charge full-body.

Let it knock her two steps back,

then punished it with the edge of her shield.

Hard.

The second circled wide

but Hanna was already there.

Ice traced under its paws,

forcing a stumble.

They didn’t speak.

Didn’t seem to need to.

Each step seemed timed.

Each strike—clean, like it had been done a hundred times.

One Lynt yelped

another slipped.

Snarls turned to skids.

The forest trembled under their breath.

The lead one staggered.

Snorted.

Turned.

The rest followed.

Jane exhaled slowly, checking her shield arm.

Frost cracked underfoot as Hanna stepped beside her.

For a few seconds,

they both just stood

in the aftermath,

breath syncing,

the cold air stinging quietly between them.

Jane smirked.

“I think,

unclogging pipes

doesn’t sound

so bad anymore.”

Hanna laughed, holding her stomach.

The slimes blocked the sewer pipe,

jiggling like half-melted jelly.

Jane knelt near the outflow stream,

boot wedged into mossy stone as she tugged one free.

With a horrible squelch,

the slime popped loose—

sending Jane flying backward into the shallow stream.

Half-submerged in sewer runoff,

she stared up at the sky.

"HANNA!

HANNA!

HANNA!"

She scrambled up,

a full slime stuck to her head

like a glistening hat.

She ran blindly

and slammed into a low-hanging branch—

thud.

The slime splattered between her and the tree.

Jane landed flat on her butt,

hair soaked,

sewer water dripping down her armor,

face twisted, exhausted.

Hanna stood a few paces away,

dry and clean,

clutching her stomach to hold in her laughter.

She stepped closer with pity-soft eyes

and conjured an ice block,

putting it gently on top of Jane’s head.

"Hold it here.

What would you do without me?"

Jane blinked, still stunned.
Took the ice block.

“…Thanks.

I knew that one blue Tekke was too much

for just ‘unclogging pipes’.”

Then Hanna reached into her pouch,

pulling out her red gloves

 and removing the blue ones.

"Don’t mix them—" Jane started.

Hanna, pulling on the fire glove.

A warm glow pulsed.

"Relax,"

She yanked off the fire glove

and melted the ice block,

washing Jane’s face

and hair in a sudden burst of clean steam.

Jane stared at her.

"Hey.

You waited the five seconds,

right?"

"Yes, mom.

Five.

Whole.

Seconds." Hanna held up five fingers mockingly.

"See? Still alive."

Jane narrowed her eyes.

"If you collapse,

I’m leaving you in the sewer."

Hanna grinned.

"Liar."

Behind Hanna’s back,

her fingers trembled.

 “Ok, lets finish the job.
Try to be closer to me while I froze them.”

Jane nodded, getting up.
She got into position between the pipes, a few meters ahead,

and Hanna behind her.

Jane stood there.

Making sure that not a single slime touched Hanna

while she goes on freezing

and cracking the slimes that were clogging the pipes.


After some hours of
freeze,

unclog,

and
don’t let them pass.

They finally finish.

Jane looked up, walking slowly.
“I really

need a bath

right now!”

Hanna splashed a bit of water from her canteen on Jane’s head.
“yeah,

you really do!”
she started to hop toward the path above the hill.

“come back here.” Jane laughed, following Hanna.