"I was rather expecting you to be gone for longer," I break the silence with a lame complaint. It's barely been 20 minutes since she left by my reckoning. It took me and the rest of Truthseekers about half an hour at minimum, with me being the fastest by about a minute more than Jade. I guess there's just no beating talent.

Henna stares at Adam. Ad-something, "Were you about to engage in some kind of sordid rendezvous in my shop..?"

The wyvernblood chokes on his breath and splutters, "N-no! No!"

I roll my eyes, "I wouldn't be so crass. Just some business dealings better talked about off the open streets."

Regaining his composure, Mr Adam clears his throat, "Yes, exactly. Just a trade of goods, Madam."

Inwardly, I wince at the auto-translation from what is presumably Korean, since Madam tends to refer to the brothel kind. Henna's brow twitches, but seeing his sincerity, generously lets the faux pas drop. For the record, we're currently speaking Modern Merrowan, but the game's system does it's best to translate between them - usually without issue, but occasionally it leads to unintentional insults when it runs up against languages from our world that have a highly context-sensitive vocabulary and cultural baggage associated with them. As the years go by, the issue goes away, thankfully, but not before a few thousand brawls and at least one Guild war.

I'll mention it to him after we're done.

"Well. That's fine, but make it quick, I've need of Silver's time as well," Henna informs him frostily. Maybe she didn't forgive him after all.

"Apologies for imposing," Mr Adam bows his head.

---

 

After concluding our business and ensuring Mr Adan - Not Adam, will likely need to remember his name if this business connection between our Guilds is to continue, he was pretty understanding about the mistake since he apparently gets it a lot - won't be blabbing about Henna's uncanny ability to teleport, which was only a one-time thing he can't be expected to understand the significance of on his own, it's back to just me and her alone in the shop for the time being.

Truthfully speaking, the equipment isn't as valuable to me as the money it's worth, but it'll save me some effort gearing up any Hedge Mages we recruit, such as Windy and Jade's friend, who will be joining us tomorrow with his girlfriend, if I'm remembering correctly. I've already made arrangements with Wolf Hunt to go out for a quick hunting trip into Ujax Forest, albeit not into Goldmoss this time as the journey alone took up most of the day.

That reminds me, we should go visit the Cathedral and get these useless hunks of rock out of our inventories. First thing tomorrow, when we're all gathered together would be best.

"Silver," Henna's mildly annoyed voice breaks me out of my introspection, something that's becoming a habit for me of late with everything going on.

"Sorry, adrift with my thoughts," I apologise quickly, "You wish to speak of your experience with The First Step, I take it?"

"Yeah," Henna nods, crossing her arms, "'parently I'm what's called a Battlesmith now."

She closes her eyes and leans her head back, "Got dropped in the middle of an ambush. Had to fix up myself a sword and fend off the attackers. All Panoplast folks, from centuries back. The angry sort camped out by the Arborstone Expanse."

"Ancestors of the Freehome Collective?" Windy had to deal with them in her First Step too, as it happens.

"Yeah, those grudge-obsessed idiots," Henna confirms, not hiding her disdain.

I'm not really in the mood to try and correct any racial biases at play here since the description is at least accurate to their current state of being. From my understanding, the Freehomers were a group of violent luddites nursing an inherited grudge over 400 years old and venting that grudge on any passer-by as well as espousing a return to the old ways before the Enduring Empire's Reclaimers showed up looking to resettle their property, which to them means acting like neolithic nomads. Rather than the much more advanced quasi-medieval villages and farmsteads they actually lived in.

They eventually got wiped out, but I honestly couldn't say who did it, or otherwise how or why it happened, just that a logging operation was set up to harvest the titular Arborstone and the lands were turned into a training ground for Newborn with fire magic-based classes controlled by I believe Tropical Pharmaceuticals Ltd. in association with Amazing. My favourite people in the whole wide world.

"Any troubles or questions?" I ask, wary of getting too deep into my inner monologue again and arousing her ire for ignoring her mid-conversation.

"Not particularly. Just feel..." She chews her lip, trying to put it into words, "More...whole. Somehow?"

"A subject best asked of a Scholar specialised in Class Philosophy," I inform her, "I have heard that Classes can shape you as much as you shape yours, and that's why Evolutions happen, however. Perhaps that's related?"

Henna just stares, "Whatever the reason, I feel better now. And stronger, on top o' that."

I nod, "Physically, you're probably a lot stronger than I am right now."

Surprised, Henna takes half a step back, "That a fact?"

"I can still beat you in a fight," I smirk, "But the gap between us has been greatly reduced. Going off strength alone I'd lose, I'll grant you. However, I've skill and experience you distinctly lack. It just means I have to try harder than before."

With her learning speed, even that wouldn't last for more than a week of sparring, I admit privately. I can catch back up easily enough, but I'm not too bothered about being the lesser between us in the grand scheme of things, since if anything it just serves as proof that I've still room to grow and motivation to keep pace. Moreover, she's a trustworthy ally, so her strength is mine, and vice versa.

I badly need to regain my old physique in reality. With one-to-one control on the horizon, training on both sides of the divide becomes a necessity to keep a user's brain from running into issues with compatibility moving between Merrow and Earth. Muscle memory is somewhat transferrable after all.

"That a challenge, Silver?" Henna asks slyly.

"Perhaps," I answer, "But not today. I still wish to check in with Lifk, as well. I don't suppose you've seen him?"

"I've not had a chance to check in personally, but the old stone's still kickin'," she assures me, "So I hear."

"Very well," I feel some small relief, "Then with respect to our prior conversation, I have a proposition for you before I go."

---

 

Henna

"I'm listening," Henna declares hesitantly, leaning against the adjacent display case.

"You may have heard us talking about starting a Guild," Silver begins laying the groundwork of his ultimate point, belaboring the matter somewhat and thereby demonstrating his anxiety.

"Once or twice," Henna admits casually, feeling some of the anxiety transmit from him to her in anticipation of the question, "Didn't really pay it much mind, since it weren't really my business to say nothin'."

Sucking a breath, Silver raises a hand in askance, "What if it was? That is, to say, would you be willing to join Truthseekers, now that we've gained Official recognition from the Empire of Stone to operate to that effect within it's territories?"

Henna rolls her eyes, "Do I have to bloody well repeat myself?"

Inwardly she recognises that she's been rather going in circles in recent conversations with him, so perhaps he may have gotten the wrong idea about her. Joining his Guild isn't really that much of a leap considering, but Henna has a hunch that the matter is less simple to Silver's eyes.

"Then the...other question," Silver grimaces, well-aware that he's about to ask something insensitive, "Would you be willing to add Stone Arsenal itself to the equation as a Guild owned and sponsored business?"

Frowning, Henna clenches her fist involuntarily at the, frankly, overreaching request. However, with her trust in Silver given ample reason to form, between his superior business savvy and his loyalty, she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt, "...Now, why would you ask such a thing?"

"I - that is, Truthseekers - plans on investing in Meteo City's development in the long-term. To facilitate that, we need competent allies, connections, and finally, places where we can exert influence on the city's populace," Silver explains, "Which isn't as sinister as that might sound - I'm not trying to emulate Geronil here, if anything I plan to take it further and gain full legal authority over the rule of Meteo City, just without the persecution of the innocent and the corruption of authority."

"Mighty ambitious talk, but it ain't a complete answer," Henna prods him to continue.

"Well, part of that is that the guild needs to be able to fund itself long-term, so to that end I wish to set up a subsidiary business, formed around promoting the goods of our in-house craftsmen," Silver adds on, "Stone Arsenal, positioned as it is near the central marketplace and privately owned by you represents an excellent place to start that venture - with your blessing that is."

"That sounds almost exactly like Geronil were doing," Henna grits her teeth, "And wanted me to be a part of."

"I know," Silver sighs, resigned, "You can understand my reluctance to broach the subject to you. Even should you decline, the offer of joining Truthseekers remains open and we will endeavour to interfere with your business dealings as little as possible when pursuing our own."

Looking around at the cleaned, but otherwise skeletal shop, Henna recalls the similarly insensitive Panoplast girl's words the day before. While it might be something new, and while she has openly pledged her cooperation to Silver, something about his plans for Stone Arsenal still strikes her as almost sacrilegious.

Sensing her trepidation, Silver speaks up arms spread non-threateningly, "It's entirely up to you, and you needn't answer immediately if you require time to think matters through. Point of fact, I recommend you take a few days to properly consider it. 'tis not a decision made best in haste."

"No," Henna shakes her head, "I'll do it. I can't be letting my Da's memory holding me back. I want my own place, and I know you'll do right by us both."

The tension drains out of Silver's athletic physique, his shoulders and head sagging, muttering faint praise to Lady Jannis, the Goddess of Duellists whom he claims to be an agent of, "I realise that this might be a little late to be saying..but, sorry. And thank you for your continued trust in me."

Pushing away from the display case, Henna offers her hand. Peeking out, Silver barks a short, wistful laugh and clasps his own in hers exerting equal force, "An honest deal made, and deal to be kept - as the Stars for witness and The Merchant Prince's ire for an agreement made in good faith."

Silver invokes a rather old-fashioned if somewhat traditional aphorism favoured by Ghoathan merchants, bookending the conversation as the two hands part.

"You from out east?" Henna can't help but question.

"No," the enigmatic Silva denies, "But I've spent some time there. However briefly - I don't care much for the Paragons."

"Ain't no Ghoathan I've met that's had much pleasant to say about them," Henna observes, "Guess nobles're starstruck buffoons no matter where you go."

Silver shrugs, "They're not as bad as Gem Heart's Solitara, but admittedly that's like comparing brackish water with decade-old sewage. A few of them mean well, even if they remain, ironically, ignorant to their failings."

"Sure you ain't a travelling poet?" Henna peers at him closely, finding him rather more well-travelled than expected.

"Yes," he grumbles, "Changing the subject, I don't believe you explained what exactly it is that 'Battlesmith' is supposed to do. If you wish to keep it private, I'll understand, though."

"I don't mind, really," the newly attained Battlesmith waves off his unnecessary consideration, "It's a little...odd. Does more or less what it sounds like it'd do. Makes things I can make better, and makes me better at handling folks with equipment I know how to make. Also feel heat less than I used to, not that it's very warm 'round here anyway."

The summary is, Henna realises, more than a little brief, but without any way she knows of to share the information window with Silver, it's simply more expedient than reciting the entire thing.

"Interesting," Silver mumbles thoughtfully, "Does it mention any weapon or equipment restrictions at all?"

"No," Henna denies, "Just get the feeling that so long as it's somethin' I've made myself, it'll be fine."

"We should get to work on that once you've gotten your mineral stockpile reimbursed," Silver throws out the suggestion, looking mournfully at his damaged equipment, "Both of us are in severe need of some upgrades to our uhhh...arsenal."

Coughing to clear his throat in order to distract from the unintentional pun, the Silva straightens up, "Assuming of course, that you have the correct Schematics. But I feel we've stood around talking for long enough, and further conversation would be better with a mug of Lifk's beer in hand, early as it might be."

"The shops been cleaned up, so I s'pose I don't have much better to do if you ain't up for a spar," Henna agrees after some consideration.