It seems my father is trying to console me about the whole name debacle. His heart is in the right place, but he's consoling me for the wrong reasons.

“The Church is simply a formality. An aging tradition forced upon nobles. There's surely nothing to be worried about. It doesn't matter how you're named, you're still my daughter, and you're still stronger than anyone else can even imagine. So stand tall and stay strong. A name can mean anything, but the person holding it can form their own reputation and achieve whatever they want to. Aella, that is what it means to be named. So accept Claudia proudly and show everyone who doubts you its true meaning.”

I give him a thumbs up. I appreciate the pep talk, but could you please stop carrying me now? I need to practice walking without my brace. Also, part of me feels like the pep talk was partially for himself, not just for me.

“Aella, does your leg not hurt from earlier? Why are you complaining now? I'm trying to help you.”

And you can help me by putting me down, father. Enjoying a “walk” through Hitherbliss isn't exactly possible with you carrying me around everywhere. The people here already know that I can't move around properly so there's no need to hide it either.

“Aella, you don't need to tug on my hair, I'll put you down, just wait please.”

I hear him mutter something like “if only she was always calm like earlier” as he prepares to release me. Father, hearing you terribly conceal your true thoughts like that only makes me want to fight against you more. You shouldn't tempt your daughter like that.

“Aella are you sure you want to walk on your own? I didn't realize you were using magic to support your leg this whole time, and for that I'm sorry. You've blended it so well into your natural mana flow that it's hard to tell, and since you always wear pants no one ever sees the glow on your leg from the magic. Were you hiding your weak spot on purpose like that?”

I give him a thumbs up. I just prefer pants, but that makes me sound smarter so I'll agree with that.

“You should let your father know about these things, Aella. How am I supposed to support you if I don't even know when you're struggling? Dr. Sylburn had said the limp was permanent, but I didn't realize it was that bad. And now you don't even want to use your magic to help your leg? How are we going to walk?”

Slowly. We are going to walk slowly. I silence my father by holding out my hand for him to grab. Although I still fear for my precious finger bones, this action will shift my father's thoughts into more positive ones.

He'll probably think something like “My daughter wants us to hold hands?! She's never like this, I need to take the opportunity to bond with her!” and will then proceed to grab my hand and enter a good mood.

I'm right, by the way. It's very easy to trick my father into becoming spontaneously happier this way. His gloved hand provides some nice warmth in the cool temperatures of the evening as my father and I enter the street market. It's just my father and I. Supposedly Winona agreed to watch Alarick to make sure that he doesn't get more drunk than he already was, but I think she wanted to encourage some father-daughter bonding time. Winona tends to put little pauses in her speech patterns when she's nervously scheming something. Said schemes usually include messing with my hairstyle or picking out clothes, but I recognize them enough to know what she actually intends to do.

With my father as support, we're moving about at the pace of an elderly couple on vacation. I can feel people moving around us constantly, so our slowness is probably a blockade for people trying to get places. Please take my halfhearted apologies, random citizens of Hitherbliss. I can at least say that my walking is marginally less painful with my father as support. I can step lighter, and if I risk a stumble at all, my father holds me up.

For some reason, we're also disguised. For being a strict man of honor, my father clearly wanted to ignore that code today. Whether it's for me, or for him, it's hard to tell. I'm wearing something akin to a paperboy outfit, apparently. Winona excitedly used her wind magic to rush over to the store and subsequently dress me up in an outfit that she thought I would look cute in. She gladly purchased it with her own money, too. I'm pretty sure by default I'm rather abhorrent to look at, so I think her efforts to make me look cute were wasted, but at least I got pants with it. My hair is tied low into two pigtails, and I'm wearing a simple cap as well. I think I wouldn't mind wearing this type of outfit more often, especially given my usual outdoorsy options. Winona wanted my father to match me and picked out a similar style for him, and now he's equipped with a casual outfit that a formal merchant or jeweler would wear. His hair is more loosely styled, and he's even got fake glasses too. Though going by my mana sense, he's scratching his face out of nervousness by slipping his finger into the glasses, where the lense is supposed to be. The glasses have no lenses, and my father's making that all the more obvious through his unconscious habits.

From a distance, we look like two completely different people than normal. The cap throws shade over the burned parts of my face, and because I'm wearing long sleeves and long pants, the only injury that's noticeable are some small cuts on my hands. When I do travel alone in the future, I think simple headwear and masks should do well to limit any surprised reactions to my appearance. The other option would be attracting the scorn of every common person I meet, and I'm already well aware of what the experience is like, annoyingly.

“Aella, if we end up talking with someone or buying something, leave the conversation to me. I'll present you as my shy daughter, so act accordingly, alright? That'll be easier for you. Oh, and I'll be referring to you as Anthea, as a pseudonym. Each time we want to casually travel like this, you can expect similar strategies.”

I feel like that's a bit too involved for a simple outing, but sure, whatever. I bite into an apple that my father picked up for me as a snack. It's crisp and sweet, and I use that to motivate myself to keep walking with the Duke as support because I'm already getting tired of it.

“Are you alright, Aella?”

“Do you feel any strong pain, Aella?”

“Aella, watch your step.”

“There's a step downwards Aella.”

“Aella, are you sure you don't need me to carry you?”

By the spirits father, shush your mouth! I can't think even the simplest thoughts with you pestering me with your inane concerns! Don't you realize it's important for kids to fall down early on so they learn how to walk when they get older? Let your daughter do things as she needs to please.

Before I can express my frustration, we get beckoned over by some random merchant.

“Hey, hey! To the father and his daughter there! How about you look at some fresh and ripe tomatoes?”

Tomatoes? Last time I had one was that day I met Winona and gave the whole house some trouble while I ran around the whole place. No one there has served me tomatoes since I rated the tomato I bit into badly. In reality, they're just hit or miss, and that one was definitely a miss.

Perhaps I'm in the mood to taste one again. I tug at my father's sleeve and point in the vague direction of the voice. Tomato please.

“...I thought you disliked tomatoes. Getting one now would be a waste of money.”

…You are the Duke of the Northern Territories, one of the wealthiest people on the continent, and you're worried about wasting some pocket money? There's nothing wrong with supporting local businesses, and if anything, it's great to do so. You probably just don't like supporting Hitherbliss because it gives you trouble all the time. I hold no grudge here, so I tug harder. It works.

“Welcome! These tomatoes are fresh, grown in our local greenhouse. Naturally grown too! No magic involved.”

“And how did you manage that through this past winter? Tomatoes are best through the 5th to 10th months. The season should be starting only now, and here in the North, I can't imagine they'd flourish well.”

“You know your stuff, sir! I'll let you in on a small secret then, the greenhouse keeps some dwarf salamanders to help the plants-”

“Dwarf salamanders? You've managed to get monsters in from Dulce Ilda? Do you expect me to believe that's plausible with your current presentation? Surely you'd have your own store, rather than a stand here, right?”

Father, I am imploring you to refrain from being a stick in the mud. I ignore his stuffy attitude and just grab a tomato without his permission, immediately biting into it, not even bothering to cut it. It's juicy, it's tasty… and yeah, it's a hit.

I hold up my hand and close my fingers in and out. I want 5 more, please.

“Well, sir, your daughter seems to like them, so I think we've got a transaction anyways, salamanders or not.”

“Hmph. I suppose we do.”

As the tomato vendor puts 5 tomatoes in a bag for us, I study his mana channels and reach a realization.

This is… the same tomato man from the Duke's estate. The one I latched onto in my instinctual hunger. Was he not part of the Duke's staff? If he is employed at the estate, then what's he doing all the way here in Hitherbliss? And if he isn't part of the staff, why was he a part of the group that tried to catch me?

How odd. It's always a bit off-putting when you meet someone in wildly different places, and become aware of their presence. Just as the me from the wild and the me right now are different beings, the tomato man here and the tomato man there are different as well. No one's ever truly the same in every place and with every person.

I push my random thoughts out of my head with another bite of the tomato. I'm probably one of few people crazy enough to eat a tomato like an apple, and I can sense my father's disapproving stare, but it does not faze me. If I want to eat, I shall eat. And so sounds out another crunch.

The remaining tomatoes go into a satchel bag I have equipped. I wasn't really planning on buying anything, so the bag doesn't have anything but Scipio inside. The tomatoes dogpile Scipio as I store them. It's alright though, he's tough even when he's broken.

As my father and I continue to walk around, he makes conversation with a few more vendors. It seems he's more amicable to the people he wants to go to, rather than the stands I have a curiosity in. He's now speaking with a jewelry stand that I have no interest in. What's the point of wearing stones when they don't have any mana in them?

“And what was your name again sir?”

“Darius Grimwade, and my daughter here is Anthea Grimwade. We're part of the Stonewright merchant group and were just on a stroll in the market for the evening as we pass through town. I must say, the accessories you hold here are quite eye catching, don't you agree Anthea?”

…What is the point of this farce, father? It is impossible for something to be eye catching for me considering that my eyes do not work as they should. And our alias is so… tacked on. Is this some sort of way you have fun, or are you trying to gather information in a roundabout way? I nod yes to my father so that they can continue whatever pointless conversation they were having.

Ugh. With no interest in the current conversation, and my reliance on Mr. “Darius Grimwade” here to help we walk, all I can do is reach into my satchel and-

…My bag is missing.

…My bag is missing? Why is my bag gone? The strap of the satchel is still around me but I quickly take the limp material off and trace it to its ripped ends. It's serrated. Someone or something cut off the actual bag portion and it's gone.

My tomatoes are in there. More importantly Scipio is in there. This is a problem. A big problem that I'm going to solve right now.

I discreetly slip away from my father as he continues his farce with the jewelry stand and take off my socks and shoes while starting to apply my magical brace. Walking practice be damned, someone took my stuff. Limping around won't do any good.

I lean against a building in an alleyway as I direct mana to my nose. I'll have to compartmentalize the scents of this place and sniff out the tomatoes and Scipio if I want to accurately track this bag down.

I apply the same technique I used against the Elderfrost Bear to my olfactory sense. Strangely enough, the two nostrils as well, have some superstitions in this world. If the ringing of the ears is a sign of good or bad things to come, it seems that breathing through different nostrils are linked to different energies and states of mind. I believe these concepts are more linked to the study of Qi, which seems to be a fusion of various magic schools.

Regardless I'll use these nostril techniques right now, whether they have magical application or not. It worked when I played with my ears against the bear, so I'm sure, like that, there's some sort of application, even if it is a placebo effect. I start to sniff loudly. Thankfully I am alone in this alleyway, for I definitely seem a bit creepy right now.

The smells hit my senses. Men working hard, various food stalls, the well near the left side of the town, the dizzying smells of alcohol, my father's deodorant…

This compartmentalizing takes a bit slower than I would have liked. There's more sounds here than in the forest, and because my adrenaline has not kickstarted yet, I'm not working fast. Even still, I'm taking these smells and placing them within my left nostril’s senses in order to get to the one I need. Ah. There we go. Smell located. It's heading south at an easygoing pace, but is already far from my location.

Indulging in superstition once more, I keep the unnecessary scents in my left nostril and plug it up with magic, and then proceed to breathe deeply and slowly through my right nostril. Supposedly this links to the parts of my left brain that help stimulate decision making and alertness, and can act as a motivational boost. If I were to reverse this technique to my left nostril instead, that would calm me down.

And, while not knowing if it's a placebo or not, I do feel energized. The good thing about living these repetitious lives is that it gives me the chance to try a plethora of techniques. This one will remain in my mental stash of useful ones, if it continues to provide results.

Time to chase this thief down. I don't hesitate to climb up onto the roofs of the city, bouncing along towards the location that my nose leads me to. Rather than big applications of my mana pulses, they are intermittent and centralized since the terrain is dynamic.

It's not even five minutes before I jump off a building and cut this person off. They're small. Well, they're bigger than me, but I was expecting a sleazy adult. Going by their mana channels, they're about my age.

“H-Hey! Who are you…?”

A young boy. His voice is a little raspy and he's clutching the bag like his life depends on it. I go for a grab and he mutters something under his breath before he's suddenly ten feet behind me.

“I found this first, y'know! It's my catch fair and square! Plus, you've got those fancy clothes! Why do you want this? This is mine!”

Actually boy, you stole it. I make a beckoning motion with my hand. I'm not sure what magic he has, but I can learn it in a confrontation if I have to.

“I'm not gonna give it! I'm not - wait… you're the girl I stole it from!”

Exposing yourself verbally like that is always something that should be avoided, even with the shock of my reveal.

“Ah.”

Seems like he realizes what he said.

“Umm, thanks for the money, bye!”

He dashes away in the blink of an eye. Speed boost magic? Time to give chase.

…I've been playing many games of tag this life, haven't I? The Griffin, Winona and my father, and now this boy. Though this time I'm the one who's chasing their prey. And I never lose my prey.

…Unless the prey is a Shiverslither Snake. Those bastards always gave me a tough time when I lived in the mountains.

I offer no hesitation in my pursuit, immediately channeling large streams of mana to my legs for the purposes of physical enhancement and mana pulses. Looking at his fluctuations of mana, it seems the boy is using continuous casting of speed boost magic to move in rapid bursts.

Each cast lasts about 5 to 10 seconds, and as soon as the mana in his channels dims just a bit, it's already flaring up in another activation. The boy isn't directing his mana either, it's like a flickering light. Going on and off throughout his whole body at once for each activation. He's quickly spreading boosted mana throughout his body so that each and every body part and sense are boosted all at once. It's honestly quite impressive. It's done so consistently that I have to wonder if it's natural or not.

There are a few times where he gives away a second or two of casting just to catch a deep breath and go back into murmuring again. It's at these moments where I can close some distance. It's coming down to a contest of my consistent speed and his flickering bursts of magic.

Luckily for me, that means all the boy needs to do is mess up a single cast, so I remain persistent ever still, though I'm charging up a mana blast in my hands to launch at him. It's a very weak one, of course. I don't need to reenact the baby boom technique with him.

We weave through the crowds of the evening market, moving at speeds that blur the world around us. We must have passed my father at some point because I heard the Doppler effect on his “Aella!!”, fading out of my hearing. I guess he dropped the act in his rage. No matter, a simple scolding will be easy to deal with.

The boy pulls a surprising move and takes a sharp left through the alleyways, so I start running on the walls to ignore the clutter below and match his pace. I've been carrying my removed shoes this whole time, so I jump up and haphazardly throw one of them like a baseball, letting it just touch the tip of my finger as it escapes my hand. I pushed some mana through that finger so it shoots out at a rocketing speed, bouncing off the walls of the alleyway and hitting the boy squarely in the back.

He stumbles, but catches himself on all fours, making a sloppy u-turn in response. It is then that I throw out my mana blast. Gotcha. I lunge into and latch on to him, harkening back to my full body grip on the tomato man back at the estate.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of me! You don't need this money anyways, you're probably super rich!”

It isn't always about money you fool, give me Scipio back! There's no money in there anyways!

“Arrgghhh!!!”

He practically shouts his indecipherable speed boost chant next and immediately he's running all around trying to bump me into the sides of buildings or throw me off with quick turns.

Somehow we've ended up on the city wall, running sideways on the wall, tracing the city’s perimeter. I'm a light person, sure, but I'm surprised he has the strength to do this consistently. He intends to launch me into the plants below? With such a simple curvature to work with, the boy isn't holding back with his chanting, nearly layering them to keep the boosts going with every step. He's stacking his boosts to move faster than before, so much so that the wind is becoming a problem. I have to close my eyes to focus on staying with him.

To fight back, I unlatch my legs from his body by throwing a significant amount of mana to my thighs, and slam my feet into the wall, stopping the boy in his tracks and sending us tumbling down the side into the shrubbery below. I think I might've cracked some of the stone on the wall there. Oops.

He starts running away again but trips on these mangled roots around us. Seems like you won't get far boy, I can feel your speed boosts dimming more and more. This flora isn't going to help you, but it'll be great for me.

I surge out a mana pulse and make sure to infect the surrounding plants with my mana. Any of these plants can now erupt from an internal mana blast and become a projectile. I place my other shoe in my sock and prepare to use it as a sling if necessary.

“Wh-What are you?!! And, you're all… messed up in the face, get away from me!! Here, take your money, it's not worth it anymore! Just leave me alone!”

Oh, interesting, that's the first time someone has actively and directly shown disgust towards my face this life. Nice. Good to know that I am in fact not appealing. Maids at the estate may whisper about it sometimes, but it seems everyone there has been trained to say nothing about my appearance. And I think Alarick is too drunk to care. A scarred body is sure to keep away people with undesirable motives as I grow.

The boy tosses the bag to me. Two of the tomatoes are crushed and the other three seem to be dirty, but my dear friend Scipio is in the perfect two halves that I remember. Ah, my favorite and only comrade, truly you are my greatest comfort.

I throw the bag back to the boy. I don't really care about the tomatoes anymore.

“...There were only tomatoes in here? Why…? Hey, speak to me, what's up with you?! You haven't said a thing, you look at things weirdly, and you're still creeping me out! But don't get closer!”

First you want me to leave and now you want me to stay? Truly, the indecisiveness of children is a pain to deal with. I give him a thumbs up and start walking away.

“That doesn't mean go away! Why aren't you saying anything? What about your tomatoes and your bag? You've just given up the thing you had after catching me?”

I wave the two halves of Scipio around. And wave a shooing motion to him.

“What…?”

Enough of this. Bye.

“I'm taking these tomatoes then! This'll be my dinner!”

…So he's a street rat. Which means I have no proper way to communicate with him because he definitely doesn't know how to read. I was going to use Scipio to write out something in the dirt. Ugh. Tomatoes are going to be his dinner, he says? He's not well off, and I'm not going to see him again after today, so I'll offer him something a little better than that. Spontaneity has won me over today.

I take off my outer shirt, ignore the boy’s worried yelling as I approach him, and hand my shirt to him while tugging at his shirt, which feels thin and dirty. How have you not frozen to death in the cold of the North with clothing like this? I doubt you have anything besides that speed boost magic.

“...Wh-What’s wrong with my shirt huh?! And stop shoving your shirt in my face! Step away!”

I point towards his shirt, then mine, then his again, and swap between the two quickly, making a wiggling motion with my hand and finger. We're switching clothes.

“You wanna… trade?”

I nod.

“So you just wanted whatever stupid stick was in the bag, not even the tomatoes, and now you wanna trade shirts? That's really creepy! Are all girls like this?! I thought you were gonna beat me up!”

I will if you don't shut up and take the offer before I change my mind. I glare at him.

“F-Fine! We'll trade! If it gets you away from me then fine! Gimme your stupid clothes!”

The trade goes smoothly. I don't even have to watch if he's looking at me or not because he's too disgusted with me to even dare peep a glance while we change. I'm now wearing a loose and raggedy shirt, and a pair of ripped pants. I think I'll keep this outfit for when I leave the estate. It'll be useful to blend into the slums of big cities if I ever feel the need to infiltrate them.

“I'll… leave now… but first I have a question! What's your name? My name's Lyro!”

“Aella!!”

I instinctively turn my head towards the call of my name. Ah, that's my father screaming for me in the distance.

“Is that… your name then? …Aella?”

“...”

“Are girls always this quiet?! That's annoying! Say something! I still don't understand why we traded clothes, or why you gave me stuff!”

“...”

“I'm confused!”

“...”

“If that man you were with was your dad then he sounds super mad, so I'm gonna leave… but I'll remember this! And I'll get back at you! I'll steal something so fast you'll have to yell in anger! And then you'll say ‘Lyro! You're too fast!’ and I'll win, and I'll make you tell me everything! Just wait!”

Are you done now, boy? This is going in one ear and out the other.

“...Arrggh! Stupid girl! Bye!”

As he dashes away with his speed boost magic I contemplate how the heck I'm going to explain to my father what just happened. I can't just say “Randomly, I rewarded a street rat who stole from me, so I took his clothes and he took mine. It was a fun game of tag, yet again!” can I?

Hm. I'll chock it up to philanthropy or something. I can't be bothered to think hard about irrelevant things like this. …So much for an evening walk in the town though. I didn't even get to train my leg properly like I wanted.

In that sense, perhaps the boy did win against me, if just for that.