“Reconnect?” asked Mizuki. “You just moved here two months ago, right?”
“Oh,” he said, looking slightly put off. “You don’t remember me?”
“I,” said Mizuki. “Uh.” She felt like she should have been listening to rumors a bit more, because she was certain that if she had met him, then the rumor mill would have had something to say about him. Mizuki wasn’t normally forgetful, not when it came to gossip, but it seemed like she’d missed something vital.
“Lay off her, Kell,” said Basil, stepping forward. “She was three years above you, and you have to remember that when you’re younger, you don’t care all that much about the littles, not with that big a gap. To not remember is expected, and if you didn’t, it’s because you filled your head too much with ideas. ‘Reunion’.”
“Sorry,” said Mizuki. “I have zero memory.” She was looking at his face, trying to connect it to something that might have been buried deep in her subconscious.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I guess you stuck out a lot more than I did.” He looked down at his staff. “You don’t remember me going off to wizarding school at ten?”
“Wait,” said Mizuki. “Did we used to call you… Elk?”
Kell gave a sheepish grin. “Yes. I go by Kellan now, which is my actual name, though it’s Kell for short.”
“Oh,” said Mizuki. “You’re the same person.” That slotted quite a few things into place and made sense of some of the gossip about Kell and how everyone seemed to have known him as soon as he came into town.
“The one and only,” he replied, grinning at her.
“I’m really very sorry, but I still don’t really remember you,” said Mizuki. “I mean, I have a vague recollection of everyone down through at least five years below me, but… were we friends?” She was racking her brain trying to think about it.
“We live on the outskirts, technically outside the town,” said Kell. “My mom and I came in for temple sermons, and I came in for school, but I never really hung out, not with the older kids, not when I was ten.”
“But I left an impression?” asked Mizuki.
“You were awe-inspiring,” said Kell, shrugging. “You used to use your magic on the playground, do you remember that?”
“Sure,” said Mizuki. “I got in trouble a few times. I don’t really use magic in public anymore.” She thought about that. “Much.”
“Well, I went off and got magic powers of my own,” said Kell, holding up his staff. He grinned at her.
“You’re not worried I’m going to break things?” asked Mizuki, looking at the magic that was held in place around the head of the staff.
“Are you going to break things?” asked Kell.
“No,” said Mizuki.
“Then no,” he said. “Actually, I was thinking that maybe we could partner up from time to time. I read up on sorcerers at the wizard academy. There are some interesting things that we can do together.”
“There are?” asked Mizuki. “We—sorcs—don’t really have training, and no one said anything about wizards to me, except that I should do my best to stay away from them.”
“Oh,” said Kell. Again, he seemed a little disheartened. “Do you take the wizard-and-sorcerer feud seriously?”
“No,” said Mizuki. “I mean, I guess not. It’s old stuff.”
“It’s not that old,” said Kell. “It’s the kind of history that sits there in the past, informing the present.”
Mizuki frowned a bit. “Is that from something?”
“It’s from the Zotl Bixium,” said Kell. “There was a sermon a few weeks ago.”
“Huh,” said Mizuki. “It’s weird how those things get into your head without you even realizing.”
“Bixzotl is a favorite of wizards,” said Kell, nodding. “Mostly because we do the same things over and over.”
“God of Repetition,” said Mizuki. She looked over at the large crates of spices. “You’re here for the same reason I am?”
“I suppose so,” said Kell. “Bethany thought that I might want first crack at things.”
“Do you cook?” asked Mizuki, raising an eyebrow.
“I can follow a recipe,” replied Kell. “Can you cook?”
“It’s basically the only thing I’m competent at,” said Mizuki, smiling a bit. “You’ve actually been to Kiromo?”
“I’m half Kiromon, like you,” he said. “Again, it’s kind of funny that we grew up three years apart and you have virtually no memory of me. I’d be offended, if I offended easily. I came over to your house a few times, when our parents were doing things together.”
Mizuki shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Kell. “So long as you don’t call me Elk.” He hesitated for a moment. “Well, it was good to see you, even if it’s basically the first time for you. I should get going.”
“You’re not going to buy anything?” asked Basil, who had been standing off to one side for most of the conversation, pretending as though it wasn’t taking place in her shop and she wasn’t eavesdropping, which she almost certainly was.
“Oh,” said Kell. “Well, yes, a bottle of enyo, nienyo, tekon, then four ounces each of, um, tene, eri, and nibyu. Please.”
The transaction was completed somewhat awkwardly, and Mizuki couldn’t help but notice that Kell had a lot of rings on his string. That wasn’t all that unexpected. Wizardry was a skilled trade, and once they’d paid for their mana stones, they started bringing in quite a bit of money. They didn’t have the raw destructive potential of a sorcerer, but they had quite a bit more utility and fine control.
Once Kell was gone, Basil turned to Mizuki. “He seems smitten with you,” she said.
“Does he?” asked Mizuki.
“It’s a good match, if you ask me, historical enmity aside,” said Basil.
“I’ve actually got a date with a guy over in Liberfell,” said Mizuki.
“Tough to make it work over that distance,” said Basil. “It’s a shame Kell never seemed to have made much of an impression on you. He seems sweet.”
“He does,” nodded Mizuki. “I don’t know.” He did seem sweet, like the kind of boy her mother would have picked for her. Maybe that was the thinking, back when they’d been young.
“Not to your liking?” asked Basil. “You know, when you partied with Alfric, we thought maybe that would finally be your match. But I take it there’s no movement on that front?”
“There’s no front,” said Mizuki. “He’s not interested in me, and I’m—well.”
“Interested in every boy?” asked Basil.
Mizuki shrugged. “I like boys. It’s hard not to look at one and see all the good qualities. I see Alfric’s good qualities. There are things that would be good about partnering with him. Um, don’t let him know I said that.”
“But is the same not true for Kell?” asked Basil, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” said Mizuki. “It’s really hard to say. I don’t remember him. There was a little boy we called Elk, and I can picture him in my mind, but he didn’t leave much of an impression, and… I don’t know. Are you trying to set me up?”
“Historically, we’ve had little luck with that,” said Basil. “We just want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy where I am,” said Mizuki. “The party has been good for me, and I like having people in the house.”
“It’s temporary though, isn’t it?” asked Basil. “That’s what you said, last we spoke.”
“It’s temporary,” said Mizuki. “But there’s a part of me that wishes it weren’t. If we somehow manage to get through the next two rings of dungeons, we’ll be traveling further afield, and… well, eventually we’ll have to leave Pucklechurch.”
“I don’t think that would be so bad, if you were with people you like,” said Basil. “I know after your fallout with the Pedder boys you retreated for a bit. And there are others you’ve had your disagreeable moments with.”
“True,” said Mizuki, frowning. Some of this she’d relayed directly to Basil, and other bits of it had surely been collected as gossip. “You’d miss me though, right?”
“Oh, many people would miss you, but no one goes dungeoneering forever.” Basil shifted. “And perhaps some of the problems of the past would be forgotten in that time?”
“The boy troubles,” said Mizuki.
Basil nodded. “I’m sorry you’ve had problems. Too many things not working out. Never a game I was too interested in playing, but for those that play it, I know it can hurt.” She stepped back and looked at the Kiromon goods. “Was there anything you wanted?”
“Oh, all of it,” said Mizuki. “It’s all dry goods and shelf-stable sauces, and I need to stock up on the staples anyway. It’ll take some work to get accustomed to things that are actually made in Kiromo though. Can I ask why you got these? Marta said something about wanting to sell to people for nostalgia.”
“There’s a strong Kiromon influence in this town, thanks in part to your grandfather. Most of us grew up around a few Kiromon foods, at the least,” said Basil. “But the bigger part is that Kiromo is putting more of a focus on exporting now, and I don’t mind admitting to you that the prices are good. They say that with the current emperor, there’s a chance that Kiromo will be absorbed into Inter within a generation.”
“Huh,” said Mizuki. “But that won’t make traveling there any easier.”
“Have you thought about taking a trip?” asked Basil. “I suppose you’re busy with your party now, but once that’s concluded? It’s been some time since you’ve seen your parents. Your sisters?”
“Maybe,” said Mizuki. “But if I went, I know there would be pressure to stay, and with the portals, it would be at least a month there. Someday, maybe. You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think that you were trying to get rid of me.”
“I want you to be happy, and I’m not sure what happiness will look like for you if you stay in Pucklechurch.” Basil placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t seem to have the need to leave, not like some of them get, but to see the wider world, even if you end up back here… You’re treading water, and I’m afraid that you’ll end up drowned if you keep at it. That’s just my opinion, and I know you haven’t asked for it.”
“No, it’s welcome,” said Mizuki with a sigh. “I know where I am in life, and I know it’s not quite where I want to be. Thank you.” Her eyes went to the goods. “Okay, let me buy this, but I’ll be back later once I’ve taken stock. It looks like we’ll be eating Kiromon for a bit, and I’m going to have to remember how that goes.”
By the time the transaction was concluded, Mizuki’s satchel was about as full as it could get, and it weighed quite a bit. She trudged back to her house, mulling things over, but once she was there, she had people to talk to, and the uncharacteristically gloomy thoughts had left her.
“So,” said Hannah. “I know you’ve gotten the ingredients by now, but I was thinkin’ that I could cook tonight.”
“Really?” asked Mizuki. “Do you cook?”
“Ay, and I’ve said as much,” said Hannah. “But you didn’t seem to take it seriously, and I confess I’m better with baking, and if I’m bein’ honest, the kind of things I like to cook are the ones that seem most like it’s just another bake. Meat pies, egg bakes, a terrine from time to time. And you’re properly good at it, while I’m just good enough that no one complains.”
“Oh,” said Mizuki. “Well… yes, I would like that very much, just for tonight.”
“I’m happy to take a load off for you.”
“Can I ask—did you talk to someone in town?” asked Mizuki.
“About my takin’ a turn to cook?” asked Hannah.
“Yeah,” said Mizuki.
“Well,” said Hannah. “Ay. It seems a lot of people in town know your business.”
“I’ve definitely been getting that feeling today,” said Mizuki. “More than usual, anyway.” It seemed as though there had been a bit of a friendly conspiracy going on. She didn’t mind that people had been talking about her life, but she did wish that they’d had fewer criticisms or possibly that she’d given them less to criticize. “Did you come from a small town, originally?”
“Oh, ay, smaller than Pucklechurch even,” said Hannah. “A scant hundred people, and I was related to most of them. And then I was in the seminary, and there were so many people from all over the world, with a big city beyond the seminary’s walls. But having seen both ends, I have to say that I like a smaller place like Pucklechurch. Large enough that you don’t know absolutely everyone, small enough that you mostly see the same faces. And small enough that people will make some well-meanin’ interventions.”
“Well,” said Mizuki. “I like it. But I wouldn’t mind seeing what a proper city is like, if Liberfell doesn’t qualify.”
“If we can stick together, we’ll probably have our chance,” said Hannah. “Now, let me know what you have for ingredients, and I can try to make a Mizuki meal.”
It turned out okay. If Mizuki had been invited over to a friend’s house and been served the chicken and vegetables that Hannah made, well, Mizuki wouldn’t have complained. The seasoning wasn’t quite what Mizuki would have done, and the chicken was a bit overcooked while the vegetables were a bit undercooked.
Still, it tasted all the better because Mizuki hadn’t been the one to make it, and she felt grateful that people both inside the house and outside of it were watching out for her.