The Ivory Rapier was a slightly higher end restaurant where the financially stable frequented and those out on a bonus liked to celebrate at. The large dining room was cleaner than most taverns, though no less rowdy. Some members of the Adventurer’s Guild came here to eat after a long day as well, so the crowd inside was something of a mix compared to a fully formal restaurant or a simple pub. This restaurant was Minerva and Cynthia’s favourite place to eat when they wanted to treat themselves, and today, Minerva was treating them all to a nice meal away from home.

Minerva and Yule had already secured a table for their group and Minerva stood up once she saw Penelope come in with Cynthia.

“There you are! Over here, you two!” the mage called out.

“Hi love,” Cynthia greeted with a quick nuzzle.

“Where were you?” Yule piped up as Penelope sat down beside him.

“Oh, we had a bit of a detour. I accepted a job,” the girl replied.

Minerva blinked, then looked over at her partner, a clear question in her eyes. Yule just seemed exasperated. The rundown of what happened was given to the other two so they could be up to speed. Cynthia and Penelope explained together, allowing Minerva all the information she needed to advise on their next steps.

“Well, the only problem I can foresee is that the Adventurer’s Guild may feel like their toes are being stepped on,” Minerva stated. “The bureaucracy there is ironclad and almost oppressive at times, if you don’t follow their policies. However, there are workarounds. Would you listen to my suggestion?”

Penelope nodded; she was eager to lend a hand to Mr Ulfric, but did not want to cause anyone trouble.

“Have Mr Ulfric make a new request at the guild, this time asking for a piece of art and let Cynthia accept it. While the guild is pretty stingy on letting people make certain requests outside their walls, they rarely ever question where items come from.”

“That’s true,” Cynthia “We actually had a bit of a scandal and a need for rules revision a few months ago, when someone submitted a request for an item that was already owned by someone else. No one at the guild knew, but the clerks had the huge headache trying to sort all of that out.”

“Indeed. But! For the moment, let’s put that aside. We are here to have a nice dinner together,” Minerva said, reminding everyone the reason for being at the Ivory Rapier.

“What do you suggest, Miss – er – Minerva?” Penelope quickly corrected herself when the mage gave her a stern stare for trying to be formal, again.

“The meat stew~!” Cynthia almost howled gleefully, already knowing what she wanted. Minerva rolled her eyes.

“Gluttonous carnivore, not everyone wants to eat that much stewed meat like you do.”

“I just know what I like.”

Yule had the menu next to him and shared it with Penelope who barely understood what was on there. While there was not a large selection, it was still a full page of symbols and characters she did not recognize yet. Some she knew like the word for ‘vegetable’ or ‘soup’, however, some words she did not quite know yet, mainly because some characters she couldn’t recall by heart.

It was easy enough to identify the prices, though, and she mentally balked at them.

Penelope could feel a small trickle of sweat going down her temple as she tried to convert the amounts into yen, which she was more familiar with.

What is this? And why is it 40 Draks?! If one Drak is 150 yen, then.this item is around 6000 yen?

The girl looked over at Minerva with a nervous smile.

“Ah, just get me the cheapest thing. I don’t feel too hungry,” she fibbed. At that moment her stomach chose to growl very loudly. Just enough that someone from a neighboring table could comment.

“Oh, my little miss. You must be very hungry! Remember to eat loads so you can grow up big and strong!” the almost giantesque man said. His skin was covered in patches of stony flakes and he had a broader frame and taller height than most of the customers in the restaurant. He grinned at Penelope who looked away in embarrassment, laughing even. How embarrassing. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide there until dinner was over.

“Don’t worry about the price, Penelope. This is a treat. A treat!” the older woman insisted, covering up a smile with her hand.

“Hn…still, I don’t know what’s on the menu…” Penelope mumbled, unable to look anyone in the eye. “I’ve never really eaten at a restaurant before, so I don’t know what’s good to eat or to try. My parents always said it’d be a waste to take me.”

The air became sombre around her and Penelope worried she said something wrong. There was a dark look shared between the two adults, a silent conversation happening in seconds in that one look.

“Well, what do you usually like eating?”

“Ah…food?” Penelope answered vaguely. She didn’t know why they were asking.

“Cynthia shook her head. “No, no, no…like, what do you like? Do you like salty food? Sweet? Spicy?”

Oh, that’s what they meant. Thinking on it, she never paid much attention. As long as she could eat something, it was fine even if it was expired. There were many memories of late night expired meals she would grab from the convenience store, eaten cold from the container, but she’d gotten used to that way of eating. Well, when she could afford it. Even something at a hundred yen was painful to pay for back then.

And even when she did like something, it soon became her sister’s favourite and Kasumi had learned to give up on liking anything, lest it be taken away to be given to her.

“I don’t have any favourites.”

Again, the two adults seemed to frown in silent conversation, though they now shot a glance at Yule, who nodded at them.

“Well, that’s no good. All right…we are going to order some food and we will share from each of our dishes! And you can see what you like.”

“Wh–no, no, no, you don’t need to do that. Just something small is enough, I could even wait to go home and make something there–”

“No. A treat is a treat. And you are going to enjoy it, end of discussion,” Minerva insisted.

Penelope gulped and nodded. Good grief, they were quite pushy, weren’t they?

The next time the server passed by, Minerva gave their orders and asking for an empty plate.

The meals went as follows: Yule ordered a creamy soup made with wild mushrooms; Cynthia got herself a meat stew and Minerva asked for a plate of roasted chicken with vegetables; Penelope was welcomed to try a bit from each of their dishes before they would ask for her own dish.

Minerva’s dish was fragrant, the vegetables crunchy and fresh. They were seasoned just right, which appealed to Penelope. While the meat was salty, it was not overpoweringly so, and was tender and moist.

Cynthia, well, got the stew and while she expected it to taste like the one she created the other night, there was just something deeper in the flavor of this one. A depth found only when the meat truly was allowed to sit in a pot for hours, tenderizing and melting into the other flavors surrounding it. It truly was delicious and Penelope could understand why it was the Cyno female’s favourite meal.

As for trying out Yule’s meal…

“Here, have some,” he offered. A spoonful of his soup was held out to her to try. Just looking at it, the soup was creamy and even a little thick. A potage, maybe? There was a savoury, yet earthy aroma to the soup that just made your mouth water, most likely due to the slices of wild mushrooms in there.

Penelope moved closer and chomped down on his spoon directly, without taking hold of the spoon, effectively making Yule spoon feed her. Penelope recognized the taste of the soup as cream of mushroom and, oddly enough, the very taste of it made her eyes sparkle. Yule looked a little less please, however.

“Wh–hey, you weird girl, you were supposed to hold the spoon yourself!”

“Eh? You weren’t just holding it for me?”

“Who would do that?!” His voice went a bit higher, as did the temperature of his face. The boy was red faced. He gave her the spoon, now that it was empty. He even went as far as pushing the bowl towards her (though he still grumbled).

“Here, you like it, right? I’ll order another one for me.”

“Oh, thank you, Yule…” The girl suddenly felt a bit awkward, having a meal pushed onto her, but the taste of this soup really was delicious. The creamy, smooth taste of something milky…yes, this was something she honestly liked. The mushroom was diced and their flavor had settled well with the other ingredients; easy to eat and enjoy. “It’s…good.”

Minerva and Cynthia shared a look again, though they were more amused than anything else.

“I guess you like milky things?” Cynthia asked, as Minerva waved someone down to order more.

“Yeah. Milky foods are yummy. I guess eggs are good, too. I remember eating those when I was little, and they were always so good,” Penelope admitted, not seeing a strange look cross Minerva’s face as a server arrived. The older woman made another order as the rest of the table enjoyed their meal.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was a bit busy, but not generally bad. Penelope learned to drown out the myriad of voices all around her so she could just focus on her friends here. Not used to long conversations outside of work related matters, Penelope had been slowly warming up to the thing known as small talk. Nothing dire to discuss, just little things in their daily lives, little stories or just topics they felt like talking about. Penelope mainly listened as was her habit, but she was opening up, blooming like a flower bud that finally got some sun.

Soon, their plates were cleared. However, the meal was not yet finished.

A new plate was set in front of each person.

Penelope just stared at the item in front of her.

A silky smooth surface and a whole body that jiggled gently as the plate was moved. The top was a deeper colour than the rest, dyed that way from the caramelized sugars set when the dish was first baked. There was a slight smoky scent accompanied by the mellow smell of milk and eggs mixed with sugar. On the plate itself were dollops of whipped cream and shavings of chocolate, to give the plate a fuller look.

Penelope knew what this was.

Pudding! She thought, stars in her eyes. Goodness, she hadn’t had one since she was sixteen years old and a classmate was giving out samples made by their family’s store. Before that, her last stint with a pudding cup had been after her sister got her first taste of pudding and demanded more and Kasumi’s had been taken as a result.

Everyone had one, so it meant that the confection in front of her was meant for her, but she couldn’t help asking anyways.

“This is for me, right?”

Minerva gave her a soft look.

“Of course it is, my dear.” A pause. “Unless you want Yule to feed you some of his again–”

“Shut up, you old hag!”

“My, my, my, where are your manners, my nephew…”

Ignoring the usual squabbles between nephew and aunt, Penelope turned the plate around, just taking the pudding in at every angle. Its soft body swayed gently at the movement, which tickled Penelope’s fancy enough for her to shake the plate on purpose and watch it jiggle merrily. She was so engrossed in this that she hadn’t realized the others were now watching her every move. When she did realize it, she stopped, placing her hands on her lap as a blush crept up her neck.

Oh, my god. I’m 38 years old, why am I acting like such a kid? Oh, well, I guess I’m not 38 anymore…am I 40? 48 now? Agh….

Before anyone could say anything she picked up her spoon and took a small bit off the top where the caramel was the strongest. She took a bite and positively melted as the flavor of the pudding hit her. The soft creamy texture of the confection just disappeared the moment it hit her tongue, spreading a refined sweetness throughout her taste buds.

It’s so tasty, what the hell…Penelope was almost in tears.

The giant man at the nearby table loudly cut through her thoughts.

“There you go! Look at that happy face, hahaha!”

The urge to hide came over Penelope again, however, she thought it by bringing up the cloak more around her face and continued to enjoy her pudding. She was practically wriggling with silent joy with every bite. Coming to the conclusion that she was entitled to enjoy her food however she wanted (even if it made her feel silly), Penelope relished her pudding until the last bite.

New life, new me! I should try to enjoy things a bit more. Who knows when the next time I can have something like this again.

The night ended on a cheerful note, Minerva paying for their meal and the four of them heading back home to the shop to rest up for the next day and the work ahead.

---

The next day, a plan was put into motion.

Ulfric was told to make a brand new request at the guild; before anyone else could snatch it up, Cynthis would step in and they would do the proper interview process wherein Ulfric accepted her for the job. All to keep things above board, should there be any rumblings at the guild.

“I don’t know when it started, but it’s always been this way for a long time. Supposedly there was a king that believed in workers being fairly compensated and protected and this is why the guild goes after people who try to work around doing odd jobs, unless they are in a specified trade,” Cynthia explained, being the most knowledgeable among them on the topic. “While anyone of any age can make a request, it’s pretty regulated on who can answer them.”

Once again, Penelope got the impression of a very strictly run temp agency.

Why was all of this necessary? Because even though Penelope said art is her passion and hobby, it was still considered work and she should be compensated for it. This was a workaround until she could legally join the guild and work on her own. Until then Cynthia and Minerva were responsible for her.

She also didn’t know what to think of that. It was useful, because being so young in this world was quite the disadvantage. She had no guarantors, no connections to fall back on or true understanding of how everything worked. Honestly, she was grateful they decided she had to stay with them until she figured out something more permanent.

Minerva hugged her tightly, rubbing her cheek against Penelope’s as part of her usual morning ritual. The action was meant to be friendly and to promote a bond, yet the mage had a habit of being pretty aggressive about it. Penelope squirmed and it seemed to spur her on further.

“Waaaah! Come on Minerva!”

“Just a little more. I need my daily dose of cute Penelope!”

“You have your nephew here!”

“But he’s nowhere near as cute as yooooou.”

Another couple of (long) seconds, she was eventually released so she could truly begin her assignment. This time Yule accompanied her, which allowed Cynthia to perform other duties and ongoing requests she had.

While travelling to Ulfric’s shop, he held her hand so they wouldn’t be separated, glaring at anyone who got too close. She couldn't ask for a better bodyguard, his stares were so effective at keeping possible ne'er do wells away. And since they were together, essentially alone, there was a question she had been meaning to ask.

“Hey, Yule?”

“Yes?”

“What do you do when Minerva and I are working at the shop and you disappear?”

She had only noticed it recently; sometimes Yule would disappear for around sixty minutes during shop hours. It wasn’t a long time, yet she did notice it happen enough times to want to mention it.

Yule seemed reluctant to answer though. “There’s…just a lot of things I have to settle.”

“Because you had to leave home, because of what happened in the capital?”

He nodded quietly.

“Yule…are you in big trouble?” Penelope tried, gently.

“...Maybe…I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

Penelope blinked. How did one decide whether or not they were in trouble? If they were in trouble, they would just be, wouldn’t they? Of course, a detail did pop up.

“Say…why were you not travelling with your parents?” she asked.

“Whatever reason you can come up for not going with yours,” he shot back, but regretted it when Penelope winced. “...Sorry. That was kind of nasty of me, huh?”

“It’s okay…” she murmured, looking at the ground.

A silence stretched between them for a bit, before he decided to open up.

“My mom died a few years ago, so there’s definitely no way she could come with me. And my dad…he’s among the victims in the capital.”

Oh. Now she felt like the insensitive one for saying anything. “I’m sorry I asked. You must be so sad…was he a good dad?”

Yule nodded his head. “As good as he could be. He was strong, fair and kind. Many loved him.”

That was an odd way of describing his father. “Did you?”

“Well, we didn’t part on good terms…” Yule scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “...the last time I talked to him before everything went wrong…I said I hated him. I wish I didn’t. It was a stupid reason.”

“Sounds like you do love your dad, then. I’m so jealous. The last time I talked to my dad, there was only bad words shouted at me.”

She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. Looked like the two of them had many regrets in common, even though they came from two completely different backgrounds. 

“What was your mom like?” Penelope asked, moving the conversation along, hopefully to a less painful topic for Yule. His expression softened, though there was still a hint of wistfulness to it.

“My mother was a very gentle woman. She spent every day that she could with me when I was very little and even as I got older and she got busier, she always made time for me when I wanted it. She’s very different from Aunt Minerva, but she was still talented at magic and worked at the castle as a court mage.”

“Wow, that’s actually really impressive. So, you’ve been to the castle before?” Penelope asked, eyes wide in amazement.

“Yeah, I’ve been there, you could say,” he said, with a mischievous smile. There was something suspicious in that and Penelope was about to prod further, but they reached the stationary shop.

The door was locked, so they needed to knock loudly to get Ulfric’s attention, as he said he would be caring for his wife on the second floor. It took a minute, but they saw a head pop out of a window a second before the door was opened and the older man was ushering them inside.

“Hello, Mr Ulfric,” Penelope greeted politely.

“Hello, Miss Penelope,” he returned, almost breathless. Did he run down the stairs to open the door for them or had he been doing something strenuous beforehand?

“This is my friend, Yule, he’s going to be escorting me today,” Penelope explained, gesturing to the boy beside her.

Yule gave a curt bow in greeting at the same awkward moment Ulfric offered his hand for a shake. Laughing, he grasped the boy’s hand regardless and gave a hearty shake, almost knocking Yule unexpectedly off his feet.

“Good lad, keeping an eye on your little friend,” Ulfric said approvingly.

“Y, yeah…”

They were lead to the private part of the shop where Ulfric made it a home with his family. Instead of the kitchen, he took them upstairs to the second floor, opening up a door to a small room.

Penelope could tell that it had been lovingly decorated for the child that once lived there.

A small bed with a little canopy above it, with pink fabric draping it. The mattresses looked quite soft and luxurious, with several stuffed animals sitting on the pillows. More toys littered the floor, which now had a thin layer of dust, as if nobody dared to enter since the girl’s abduction. A small desk was set aside a wall, next to a modest dresser. Looking at the contents of the desk, there were several children’s drawings of a family in various scenarios, the most common being the three of them eating a meal together.

Penelope carefully moved through the room, careful not to disturb anything, not even the dust. “This was Velma’s room, isn’t it?”

“We kept it as it was when we lost her,” Ulfric explained. “The missus insisted we never move anything, so she could return as if nothing changed.” The man stood at the edge of the entrance, looking around as Penelope explored. “It’s been a while since I looked in here…too painful, you see….but I thought you might like to know what kind of girl she was like…and how much we loved her.”

And Penelope agreed, now arriving at the child’s bed, seeing the hand made quilt sitting atop everything. As someone who had to mend her clothes over and over until they were just strings as new clothes for herself were a luxury, she could see the effort put into each stitch. Was this the wife’s work?

The bedroom truly had the feel of a child who was whimsical, probably dreamed of fairy tales and adventures and had no small amount of love poured into her. Being an only child, the couple must have decided to give everything possible for her. And now she was gone…but hopefully not lost. While there was a high chance they would never see Velma again, Penelope sent out a silent prayer that they would be reunited again.

Giving the room one more once over, she took notice of a certain detail…

“Say, do you not keep pictures of the family in your home?” Penelope asked, wondering if things like photos existed. Since he asked her to draw his daughter, she assumed there would be nothing of his daughter, but there was nothing else? Ulfric shook his head.

“Artwork of that magnitude is considered a luxury. Most artists charge a lot.”

“How much?”

Ulfric told her a figure and Penelope’s brain nearly exploded.

I could afford a whole plate of wagyu steak with that much! The girl internally screamed. Those artists must be very good, if people were willing to pay for professional portraits. Well, that answered whether or not photos were a thing in Iraloné, or at least Birain. Who knew what was possible in other lands.

Now she had to think back on her own commission fee, which, after conversion, was the equivalent of a single piece of wagyu steak.

I only know how much it costs because I always had to compare beef prices when buying groceries for the house as Kasumi. But knowing that, I feel a little bad about it. However, everyone was working to let her get compensated fairly, for her level of skill, so perhaps it would be all right in the end. She had fought off the guilt of accepting the one copper coin she got for helping Cynthia the other day, so she would have to do so when she got her payout for this job. Said copper coin had a special spot in her pocket right now; she was not going to spend it and hoped she could maybe frame it or turn it into a pendant to commemorate her first earned Drak…

“All right, I think I have a small sense of who Velma is…could you tell me more about her, Mr Ulfric? Give me as much detail as possible, so I can make the perfect portrait of her!” Penelope was pulling out her own parchment and her second to last piece of charcoal, when Ulfric stopped her a moment.

“Hang on Miss Penelope, you’re going to use that for the portrait?”

Penelope blinked. “Well, yes? It’s what I used for my workbook.”

“Miss Penelope, tell me where we are.”

“Er…your house? Well, I guess your shop, really.”

“And what do I sell?”

“Stuff like stationary?”

Ulfric nodded approvingly before heading downstairs. “If you don’t mind my saying, Miss Penelope, but I want you to do the best work you’re capable of. Charcoal smudges over time, so I think I will gift you a brand new pen as part of your payment.”

“Huh?! N-no! I can’t accept something so expensive!”

“I insist.” The shopkeeper’s words seemed final and Penelope had no choice, but to accept what he gave her when he returned.

The pen was what one would call a standard model, made of black lacquered wood and simple finishings. It was not exactly the most luxurious pen to ever exist, but it was definitely better than anything Penelope had ever owned in two whole lives. It was set within a case with two little capsules filled with dark ink. Ulfric set it in her hands.

Here it was. The dream she had long been looking forward to for nearly forty years. A fountain pen. A luxury she only managed to attain through death and sheer luck. Having it now was almost bittersweet.

It took a few instructions for her to load it up; she held it so reverently in her hands, almost tearful.

“I promise to earn this precious gift,” Penelope promised. She rarely ever used a pen before, so she would need a bit of practice. She still had her charcoal, which she would use for the drafts, putting as much effort as she could to bring Velma’s memory to life on paper! With this in mind, she looked to Ulfric, ready to hear his description of Velma. “All right! Just leave it to me! This will be the best portrait ever!”

---

“....the nose is too sharp.”

“Ah, all right…” Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Her hair isn’t that long, either.”

“Understood…” Rub, rub, rub.

“Oh, and her eyes need to be much rounder than that…”

…Aaargh! This sort of thing is precisely why I didn’t do commissions in my old life! And this was much worse, because the client was actually in the same room as her, breathing down her neck as she sketched out the description he gave her. It had started out simple enough, but Penelope soon realized how much in over her head she was, trying to tackle this request.

I wonder if police sketch artists ever felt this frustrated while working a case with a nitpicky witness? Penelope thought as she redid Velma’s eyes one more time.

As frustrated as she was, Penelope took care with each line she placed on the paper. While this was just a draft piece before making the real thing, she thought long and hard on the details he gave her, of the kind of girl she was. Sometimes Ulfric went on tangents, telling her stories instead of descriptions. It’s how Penelope came to the conclusion of what kind of expression Velma would have in the final picture. And she wanted the picture to be as pretty as possible.

The drafting process took all day and she went through several pieces of her parchment, which led to her old habit of using both sides to conserve her supply. While Ulfric had been generous to supply her with a pen for the final draft, she did not realistically expect him to part with more of his merchandise by giving her high quality paper as well. One had been set aside for the final portrait, though.

“I think she needs a break,” Yule piped up from his spot at the kitchen table where they were all seated at so Penelope could draw. Nonchalantly, his hand came up to her forehead, touching it softly, causing the girl to blush. “See? Her brain’s going to turn to mush soon.”

“I can keep goin–” Her stomach chose this exact moment to rumble loudly.

“See?” Yule said, as if that proved his point further. Ulfric nodded in understanding.

“Yes, goodness…how long have I kept you two? It’s well past lunch time. I’ll prepare something for us,” the older man said, getting up from his chair. Penelope moved to do the same, eager to help out, but Yule stopped her.

“You, sit down and rest. What’s the point in taking a meal break, if you do the cooking, too?” he scolded.

“But…”

Ulfric waved his hand dismissively, as he pulled some bread and cheese out of the pantry. “You listen to the lad, Miss Penelope. It won’t take but a moment.”

Penelope felt guilty about doing nothing, but nodded, staying put.

Yule sighed, placing a hand on top of her head to give it a pat. “Good grief, you’re a handful.”

Penelope just pouted silently. “Do you normally push so hard?”

“It’s what I am used to,” Penelope replied sheepishly.

“It’s good you’re a hard worker, but you don’t need to work so hard,” he stated. “You’re just a kid.”

“So are you,” Penelope returned.

“Just means I know what I’m talking about,” he said smoothly. No hesitation.

Lunch was simple, just slices of bread and cheese. Ulfric showed his affinity for Natural Magic, specifically fire as he gently broiled the top of the cheese with a small flame from his fingertip. It was a fun little display for Penelope as he served her cheese toast. She happily thanked him for the food and ate her meal with gusto. Yule was also served with her and he ate more sedately. A third plate was set at the table for the shopkeeper, but he had a fourth. Penelope asked for it.

“Oh, this is for my wife. She would probably be hungry as well,” Ulfric explained.

Right. His wife who became ill after Velma disappeared. Throughout this whole thing, she hadn’t seen neither hide nor hair of her. The poor woman must be very sick indeed.

“May I come with you?” Penelope asked. The portrait was to help the poor woman recover, so she wanted to meet the person who it was meant for.

Ulfric thought about it for a bit, but slowly nodded. “Just for a moment, then.”

Penelope told Yule she’d be back soon, before following the shopkeeper upstairs.

The room shared by Ulfric with his wife was just a few doors further than Velma’s room. The light was kept lower in this area, relying solely on natural lighting, so things were a bit dimmer. When Ulfric opened the door to the bedroom, Penelope saw that it was even darker in the room.

“Oh, Ulfric,” called out a soft voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes, my dear. I brought you some food.”

“And who is your guest?”

“This is Miss Penelope, she’s helping me out with a few things.”

“I see, I see. My, how young you are. My name is Matilda. Come closer…” the woman beckoned. A thin hand gestured towards the girl, reminding her of how she used to look. As she moved closer to speak with her, she saw the gaunt face, the thinning hair and body and felt so sad for this woman. She must have been stressing herself out so much over the loss of their daughter, never knowing if she was alive or dead. Penelope went over and held the woman’s outstretched hand.

“Hello Ms Matilda, I’m Penelope. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. It is good to get visitors. I hope my husband isn’t troubling you too much?”

Penelope shook her head vigorously. “No, not at all! He’s actually been very good to me.”

“That’s good. What is it you are doing for him?” the older woman asked.

“Oh, I’m…” She looked over at Ulfric and he nodded. “...I’m drawing some pictures for him. He even gave me a nice pen to do it with.”

Matilda smiled gently. “Is that right? You know…my daughter…she used to love drawing a lot, too. I couldn’t stop her even if I tried. My dear, sweet Velma…she would be around your age, too…may I see your face, my dear?”

Here Penelope tensed. Up until this point, she had always made sure to keep her face covered up. While Ulfric and Matilda seemed like good folk, it was a precaution in case unsavory people spotted her and decided she would be a good mark to get snatched up. Missing children was a real problem in Ceralde. Penelope really hesitated on what to do.

However, the tender, sad look on the woman’s face was really getting to her. There was a plea in her eyes, a hope. Sorry to say, she was not her daughter in disguise, finally come home. Penelope wasn’t sure and Yule was back in the kitchen, so he couldn’t give her much advice. Without even glancing over at Ulfric, she could guess he would encourage her to do so, out of love for his ailing wife.

Well, they were on the second floor and the curtains were drawn, so it should be fine? It was dim enough in the room, so it should be all right to pull down her hood.

The woman did in fact, look disappointed, but she quickly covered it up with a gentle smile. Her hand raised and gently caressed her hair. It was a bit strange, as her hands were so thin from malnutrition and a little awkward, but Penelope endured it, thinking it may bring her some comfort, at least.

When she did leave the bedroom so she could enjoy her lunch in peace, Penelope heard a few sobs from that bedroom, colouring her resolve to try and help as much as she could. If her artwork could reach her and truly heal the hurt Matilda suffered, then she would work extra hard!

In the end, it took Penelope about two days for the draft. She came to visit the next day with Yule in tow again, so she could receive as much instruction as possible for the picture. The final version would be worked on at Minerva’s shop, once she got the vision that Ulfric wanted, right down to the last detail.

Velma was a cute girl, with a bob haircut. He asked her to fill in her hair, so it seemed she had been a brunette, like her mother before her hair went grey with worry. Wide, round eyes and a cute button nose. Little dimple in the right corner of her mouth when she smiled and a playful look in her eyes. Penelope put everything she could into the draft, thinking over and over how much she wanted to help the couple from the stationary shop.

Let this bring Ms Matilda peace, Penelope prayed over and over. Let Mr Ulfric find joy in his life again.

When she felt the draft was ready, she showed Ulfric for final approval before she got to work on the commission.

Tears peaked from the corner of his eyes as he stared at the drawing, holding the paper so gingerly he may accidentally drop it. His hands trembled and a tiny little sob left his lips and he needed to take a moment, covering his face with a hand.

“That’s her,” he rasped out. “That’s my Velma. My beautiful girl. I never thought I would see her smile again.”

There was no better approval than that, knowing she captured the girl’s essence in the draft. The work on this sketch was done, now time for the real thing.

Knowing that she would no longer be working on the charcoal draft, along with the thoughts of kindness she poured into her craft, her power unintentionally activated. Now, Penelope had never tried to recreate a person before. It never occurred to her to try to create living beings using her special ability. Penelope had always just assumed she could only do objects, rightly so.

And what came out of the page could not be called alive.

Much like every other time, golden light poured forth from the page, in twinkling light the lines lept off and formed together the semblance of a being. You could call what came to be more a shade, rather than a real person. An impression of the girl Penelope had spent the better part of two days recreating. A ghostly afterimage, now staring all the shocked people in the room.

Yule stepped in front of Penelope, unsure as to what he was seeing.

Ulfric was rubbing at his eyes, unable to fully process what was going on, either.

“V…Velma?” he gasped.

The ghostly little girl did not respond. She simply turned around and began walking out of the room, her hand raising as if to hold onto an adult’s hand. Ulfric tried to grab her, yet phased right through, like she was made of nothing. ‘Velma’ kept moving, with everyone following her, Ulfric trying to plead with her to respond and Penelope quite alarmed as to what was going on.

“Velma…Velma, please…say something. Is that really you?” Ulfric asked.

They had followed her to the front of the shop, watching her as she stopped a moment, as if waiting, before phasing right through the door. Ulfric cried out seeing this, but Penelope broke away from Yule, slamming the shop door open. Outside, dusk was turning into the night, so not many were out on the streets, either already home or searching for their next meals at any of the taverns. The ghostly Velma was spotted not far away, walking down the street. Was she…recreating the path she took on the day she was taken? Penelope had to keep following.

“There she is, we can’t lose her,” Penelope said, immediately following despite Yule’s protest.

“Penelope, wait!” the boy called out, but Penelope ignored him.

He cursed, yelling over his shoulder at Ulfric to alert Minerva and Cynthia at the magic shop. He followed after Penelope and the shade as night slowly descended over Ceralde.