Chapter One Hundred and Three - The Lowest Low

I hummed to myself as I took out my kettle and set it on the table. The inn people had left a pitcher of water for us to use, so I didn’t have to worry about filling it. I still used a bit of cleaning magic on the water, just in case.

“So, Booksie,” I asked as I fished around my backpack for some chamomile. “Where are you staying?”

“Ah, well, that’s... when Miss Albatross found me, I was looking to sell a few books. I intended to purchase an inn room for the night.”

“Is Rosenbell a big market for books?” I asked.

“No,” Booksie said.

She was sitting on the bed that Amaryllis had picked for herself, hands under her thighs and focus, more often than not, on the floor.

“It was rather anemic,” Amaryllis said. “The selection they did have was lacking, and geared more towards... whatever it is that interests the humans around here. Though I did find a few books on puppetry. It’s something of a local hobby.”

“Neat,” I said as I added leaves to the tea and started to pour mana into my kettle while gently swirling it around. The water started to warm up.

“Ah, I don’t want to impose on you,” Booksie said. “But Miss Albatross said that you needed my assistance with certain things?”

“It’s mostly because of my ears and tail,” I said. “But if they’re not going to be a problem, then I guess I can live with them. What can you tell me about buns? I mean, their culture and stuff?”

Booksie nodded. “A fair bit, I think. We’re mostly found in Pyrowalk, though there are some who take to the seas. I’ve travelled far from home to build my shop and collect interesting books. We do tend to have a lot of members with wanderlust, but that might not be because we’re buns.”

“Why is it, then?” I asked.

“Buns don’t really have a nation? We’re just a people... no I can’t say we’re even that. There are buns all across Pyrowalk, from Cinderrun to Southerfell, and at every level. We even have nobles.” She shifted, hands dropping onto her lap. “Some people don’t like buns, but it’s not that common.”

“I would hope not, judging people just because they have more ears than you is silly,” I said.

Amaryllis flipped through a few pages of one of the books she’d bought, then set it aside. “I’m going to go get us some food. Awen, want to give me a hand?”

“Ah, certainly,” Awen said. She bounced off my bed and soon my two friends were out of the room, their footfalls turning distant as they made their way down to the inn’s first floor.

“So, Booksie,” I said as I let go of the kettle. “Would you mind telling me what happened to your bookstore?”

Booksie tensed. “I just... I just thought that selling it would be best.”

“Oh,” I said. “I thought that maybe the bookstore was a dream of yours or something,” I said.

I saw the bun swallow, her head turning away so that one of her ears hid her eyes from me. “It was,” she said.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay,” I said.

She shook her head. “I suspect you have your own troubles.”

“My troubles are never as important as my friends,” I said. “We’ve only known each other for a bit, but I’d like to think that we could become the best of friends!”

Catherine ‘Booksie’ Cabbage
Desired Quality: Someone who appreciates a good book and who has a romantic heart.
Dream: To run the grandest bookstore in the world. To reopen her store.

Her name was Catherine? Maybe her parents had a sense of humour. I could sympathise.

Booksie smiled, small and timid and wonderful. “I think I might like that,” she said. With a heavy sigh, Booksie resettled herself on the bed. “If you open a business in Port Royal, there are certain taxes you need to pay. The rent is high too, but I managed to pay both. It wasn't the most successful shop, but I made due. And it was great! I had plenty of customers I got to know and enjoy, and some knew that I could get the best books from Pyrowalk and... and it’s all gone now.”

I got up, walked over to her side, and then paused. “Do buns like hugs?” I asked.

“We do,” Booksie said.

“Oh, good,” I said before plopping myself down next to her and giving her a big sideways hug. Our ears squished together, which felt weird, but not bad weird.

Booksie giggled. “I think you might fit right in,” she said.

“Good! I wouldn’t mind making a bunch of new friends. Now how can we get your shop back?”

The door opened and Amaryllis strode in with two trays balanced in each hand. She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. “I walk in on you and Awen on the same bed, then an hour later it’s you and the book seller? People are going to start talking, Broccoli.”

“Because I like cuddles?” I asked.

Awen followed Amaryllis into the room, holding onto her own trays. She stared even harder than Amaryllis did.

Amaryllis sighed. “Idiot,” she said. “Come eat. The slop they serve here looks vaguely palatable. It had better be for the price they’re charging for it.”

“Things are expensive here?” I asked.

“It’s the tournament,” Booksie said as she got up. “There are lots of people here for that alone. It runs all day tomorrow, or most of the day anyway. It’s kind of a big deal. I was hoping to catch a ride with one of the airships heading out west the day after.”

“Oh, maybe we could watch? We’re kind of stuck here all day tomorrow anyway,” I said.

“Sure,” Amaryllis said. “It could be enlightening. There’s also a puppet show that I want to see.”

“Awa, that sounds nice,” Awen said.

The moment I sat down, Awen moved to the seat next to me, placing me between her and Amaryllis, so I gestured to the seat across from me. “Sit?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Booksie said.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a bit of food. And you could tell us about your shop. I’m sure we could help. If nothing else, Amaryllis is loaded.”

“Moron,” Amaryllis said. “What’s this about a shop?” She turned to the side when Orange hopped onto the table and installed herself in optimal scratching range, which meant right in front of her plate.
Booksie gave in and sat across from me. She shifted a little in her seat and I found myself doing the same. Chairs and tails didn’t mix all that well. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s... I wish I could say it’s a long story, but it truly isn’t.”

We paused for a moment as plates and food were shifted about and soon I was licking my lips as I eyed a nice bit of chicken next to a heaping of veggies all covered in some sort of sauce.

“Well, tell us everything,” Amaryllis said. “You seem out of place over here, so it must be quite the story.”

“Ah, yeah,” Booksie said as she chewed on a bit of carrot. “My store did alright for some time. I was happy, and I was making enough to get by. Then the... ah, I think they called themselves the street protection crew... Stopped by. They told me that I needed to pay them for additional safety or else things would start to happen.”

“Oh no,” I said.

Booksie looked away. “I’m just a single bun, living all on my own above my shop. I... I paid at first, but then the price went up, and I couldn’t afford to pay them one week. Someone broke in and took some things. I managed to fix everything, and I kept on paying from then on, but the price just kept climbing.”

We were all quiet for a moment before I shook my head and smacked a hand on the table next to my plate. “Well, that just wasn’t nice. Did you tell the police? The guards?”

“Ah, I did, but... I think they’re being paid not to make a fuss about it. Things in the east end of Port Royal are fairly safe, but the gangs from the Scumways tend to spill out a lot. Things like extortion tend to take a long time to get the attention of the people running the city. In the end, I took what money I could and I ran. I couldn’t afford the next payment, not while running my business.”

“Disgusting,” Amaryllis said.

I nodded and took an angry chomp of my chicken, then almost immediately spat it out. “Oh, yuck,” I said.

Booksie stared at my place, then began to titter. “Oh no, I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I asked as I poked the meat. Had it been undercooked?

“Buns are omnivores like humans, but we generally avoid meats. We can eat meat, but it’ll upset your stomach if you eat lots. I never saw what the big appeal was with meat anyway. It tastes a bit strange.”

I stared at the chicken on my plate, then, with a disappointed sigh, I lifted my plate and slid it onto Awen’s. “I like meat,” I lamented.

Amaryllis gave my back a pat. “It happens?” she tried.

I shook my head and bit into a bit of lettuce. At least that still tasted good. “Well, we need to help you,” I said to Booksie. “I’m sure we could get the attention of the authorities in Port Royal if we tried.”

“That would be nice, but I can’t ask that from you,” Booksie said.

I hummed as I nibbled on more lettuce. It really was good. Maybe it was fresh? I took a bit more from the plates in the middle of the table. “We’ll figure something out, don’t you worry.”

“As much as I admire your... you-ness, Broccoli, Booksie here is a stranger to us. We can’t just go all out to help her.”

“Awa,” Awen said. “No, no we can. Um. If you find someone that needs a friend, you’re supposed to help them. R-right Broccoli?”

I bumped shoulders with Awen. “That’s right! We can help, so we should. And besides, other than helping Rhawrexdee, we don’t have any plans, right?”

“We don’t,” Amaryllis said. “But I’m sure we could find something more profitable to do with our time. No offence, miss Booksie.”

“None taken?”

“Bah. Maybe we could buy part of Booksie’s business. Then we could profit from her winnings in a few years when she’s the biggest and best store in Port Royal. No... on Dirt!” I said.

Amaryllis tapped her chin with a talon. “That’s not the worst idea you’ve ever spouted. We’d need a lot of capital though. I have some gold on me, but not an infinite amount, and the cost of hiring guards and fixing Miss Booksie’s shop, or bribing the city guard so that they do their jobs... that’s beyond what I have on me.”

I hummed. “We could gamble for more? I have... six gold left? I think.”

“Gamble,” Amaryllis deadpanned.

“Yup. With the tournament tomorrow!”

“And what if we can’t pay up?” Amaryllis asked.

“We only gamble the gold we have. And if someone tries to, uh, extort us or something, we can ask Rhawrexdee for help?”

Amaryllis blinked, then shrugged. “I’m in.”

“Awa, I, I think I’m okay with that? I just want to, um, be around.”

“Great!” I said. “See Booksie, everything’ll work out.”

“I... thank you, Broccoli. Truly.”

Grinning, I picked up my tea kettle, set some mugs in a neat row, and filled them up one by one.

Ding! For repeating a Special Action a sufficient number of times you have unlocked the class skill: Tea Making!

“Huh.”

“What now?” Amaryllis asked.

“I got a new skill! Tea making.”

Amaryllis smacked herself with a wing. “I don’t think gambling is such a good idea anymore, not with that kind of luck.”

“Hey, it could be useful?” I said before taking a sip of my tea. I might have let it steep too long.

Tea Making
F - 07%
The ability to make tea

“Okay, so maybe not,” I said as I took another sip. “Still better than Adorable.”

***