Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Fifty-Four - The Return

Despite everything that had happened the sun was still far from setting. It beat down on my head from above, warming me where the cooler winds from the mountains to the West sent chills down my spine.

Amaryllis wasn’t better off. She had lost her thick jacket at some point and was hugging herself for warmth.

“There it is,” I said as I pointed off to the side of the bridge.

We had ridden on Throat Ripper for a little while, at least until we reached the bridge. At that point Amaryllis had declared that there was no way she was riding any further if it meant being ‘jostled around by a big brute like Throat Ripper.’

I didn’t mind walking, but I didn’t think she needed to word it the way she did. Throat Ripper wasn’t a big brute, he was a very good boy.

We both paused when we were on the bridge, and I think Amaryllis noticed that I was watching her watch the surroundings because she huffed and crossed her wings again. “Well? Get your things.”

I fetched my backpack, but instead of slipping it on, I pulled out a blanket and held it out to her. “It’ll be okay,” I said.

“What’s that for? And what, exactly, will be okay?” Amaryllis asked.

“Everything?” I tried.

The harpy pinched the bridge of her nose. “You are a fool, Broccoli,” she said. It sounded halfway between exasperated and fond. “Give me that.”

She took the blanket and wrapped it over her shoulders while I collected my things. Having both a spear and a shovel was growing to be a bit of a hassle. At the same time, I didn’t want to get rid of either one. The shovel was a memento of my time in the Wonderland dungeon, and the spear a gift from a friend. I supposed that when I found myself a nice place to stay in, or purchased my first airship, I would have a place to store all of my neat high-level gear.

“What are you standing around for?” Amaryllis asked. “We have ground to cover.”

“Right, sorry,” I said.

We continued walking along the road, both of us much more alert than we had been that morning, but also a lot quieter. That is, until Amaryllis broke the silence. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“Don’t be a fool. Thank you for coming back, and for hatching such a featherbrained scheme to try and save me.”

“I don’t think you should say ‘try to save me’ when it worked,” I pointed out.

She huffed again. “Yes, well, I would have freed myself eventually. I was merely waiting for my mana supplies to be replenished naturally. Then I would teach those idiots a lesson on how to handle a nob-- a lady.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t ask about your leg, are you sure you should be walking?”

She made a dismissive flapping motion in my direction. “I had enough healing points to take care of it.”

“Okay, good,” I said. I still eyed the way she was walking for a bit, but she didn’t show any signs of limping.

“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked.

I hadn’t even noticed that I was grinning from ear to ear. It wasn’t even my normal ‘life is okay’ smile. This was a much bigger, brighter grin, and it took me all of a second to figure out why. “It’s because I made a friend.”

“A friend? You think that just because we’ve been through some harrowing experiences together and that you saved me we’re suddenly nest buddies?”

My smile faded and I looked at Amaryllis with tears gathering in my eyes.

“F-fine. I... suppose I could deign to call even someone as dumb as you a friend--get off me!” she said when I glomped her from the side.

“But we’re friends now!” I rubbed my head against hers so that our cheeks squished. “Oh, I’ve been looking forward to having friends ever since I came here, and I’m super happy that you’re my first real-deal friend, Amaryllis.”

“Do you do this to all of your friends? No, don’t answer that. Keep the sordid details, and your hands, to yourself,” Amaryllis said as we started walking again. She might have made a fuss but when I held her close to my side she didn’t complain, and we were soon walking in sync with each other through the swampy marsh.

The last few hours had been a roller coaster, with more ups and downs than I had been prepared to deal with, but now it felt as if things were settling into a comfortable, straight path. I could really use a friend in a moment like that, and now I had one.

“So, which backwater are you from?” Amaryllis asked.

“Are you asking because you want to know more about your friend?” I wondered.

“No. I’m asking because if you are going to follow me around like some sort of enamoured chick, then I ought to at least discover how woefully unprepared you are so that I can cram some knowledge into that thick skull of yours. World knows I’m starved for intelligent conversation already.”

“Ah, that’s sweet of you.” I could see the fort a little ways ahead of us. There were quite a few more skeletons on the walls. “How about I tell you my life story later?”

“I’m sure it’s riveting,” she said.

“It’s not as interesting as being a harpy princess,” I said.

She snorted, though it sounded more like a sort of whistle. “I’m no princess,” she said.

For just a little while, we slid into a comfortable silence, one that lasted until we were nearly at the gates of the fort. Throat Ripper bounded ahead of us, full of happy doggy energy. I wanted to skip after him, but I decided to stay next to Amaryllis in case she needed more morale support.

“I meant it,” Amaryllis said.

“Meant what?”

“My thanks, earlier. I don’t think most would have tried to do what you did, especially not for a stranger. I wasn’t always as kind to you as I could have been.”

“It’s okay. A lot of people are like that when I first meet them. And you don’t need to thank me, it’s the least I could do for a friend.”

Her eyes narrowed and for a moment I wondered if I had said something wrong. “How can you sound so condescending when you say that?”

“Eh? But I’m not!”

“Yes, well, your idea of friendship is utterly bizarre.”

“I prefer to think that I have an outside context on the subject,” I said. “Hey, do you think there’s such a thing as friendship-aspect mana?”

“What? No, what kind of backwards, uneducated idiocy is that?”

We reached the front doors of the fortress with Amaryllis prattling on about how mana was a tangible thing and how I really, really needed to read a book someday. Before we had even crossed the courtyard leading into the fort proper the door opened and we were greeted by Gunther. “Ah, hello again, Broccoli. Miss Albatross. It’s good to see that you’re both well.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” Amaryllis said.

I poked her in the ribs, which earned me a glare. “Don’t be rude. Mister Gunther went out of his way to help us today. He didn’t need to.”

Gunther hid a smile behind the act of scratching his nose. “Quite. Would you ladies step in? I’m ready for that favour you owe me, miss Bunch.”

“What favour?” Amaryllis hissed at me as I began to follow Gunther back in.

“I don’t know, he wasn’t very specific.”

“You... you absolute moron.”

I didn’t know what to expect from Gunther, but it wasn’t to find that the furniture in the living room had all been shifted about. A few extra torches were sitting in sconces and a large tarp was placed across the floor. In the middle of the room, next to a Throat Ripper that was being fussed over by a couple of skeletons, was a large easel.

“Please, stand over there,” Gunther said as he gestured to the end of the room.

“Oh, is this like some sort of painting magic?” I asked.

“There’s no such thing,” Amaryllis said.

“There isn’t?” I wondered. “Not even... like painting the future, or using colours to manipulate a person’s emotions?”

“What? No, that’s preposterous.”

Gunther hummed as he moved to the back of the easel. A skeleton was standing there holding up a platter with some paints on it and a case that had all sorts of brushes and glass jars of various pigments. “You would do well to set aside what you think is correct, Miss Albatross, especially around someone like Miss Bunch here who... well, the world most certainly has plans regarding her,” he said.

“Plans?” I asked. “Like quests?”

Gunther paused, hands hovering over the brushes and paints. “Yes, like quests,” he said. “I haven’t had anything new to paint in some time. I hope you don’t mind being my subjects. I’m quite rapid with the brush and oils.”

“No problem!” I said. “Did you want to paint Amaryllis too? We could be sitting next to each other, or posing in a cool way, or hugging or something.”

“I am not being painted in some sort of... debauched pose. Nor am I suitably dressed for a painting,” Amaryllis said.

“While you are perhaps a... little dishevelled,” Gunther said. His hand began moving across the entire canvas, laying down the background layer of paint. “You do have a certain ferocious look. The adventuress after a difficult ordeal.”

Amaryllis stood just a tiny bit taller at the compliment and I had to stifle a knowing grin. “Well I think you look great,” I said. “Here.” A bit a cleaning magic later and we were both freed of all the mud and gunk that covered out clothes. Amaryllis even passed her talons through her hair to straighten it out.

“Very well. Just stand naturally,” Gunther said.

Amaryllis shifted, her arms moving up, her back bending a little and all of her feather floofing out.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m getting into the proper pose for a painting.”

“Oh,” I said. Then I hugged her. “Paint us like this!”

“No, you idiot!” Amaryllis protested. “Is this how you want people to see you when they look at the painting? Some, some hug-giving harlot?”

“Hey! I would never charge for a hug!”

“Wh-what’s that’s supposed to mean?” Amaryllis sputtered.

“You’re a friend. Friends get free hugs!”

Gunther sighed as he lowered his brush then moved over to place us both shoulder to shoulder. It wasn’t the most active pose, but I suppose it wasn’t all bad.

It was kind of awkward to just stand there, like taking a family photo, but with the world’s slowest camera. “Um, can we still talk?” I asked.

“Of course,” Gunther said, though he sounded distracted. “Tell me about how your rescue went? Did Throat Ripper do a good job?”

“He was the best,” I declared. Off to the side of the room, Throat Ripper replied with a thump-thump of his tail on the floor. “I don’t know if undead doggies have snacks, but if they do he deserves all of them.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Gunther said. “And the cervid, they’ve left?”

“They did,” Amaryllis answered. “You might find yourself in some trouble if they decide that you’re a threat.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I am difficult to be rid of, and my home here is well-guarded. Nonetheless, perhaps I shall increase the number of patrols. Just to be cautious.”

“That would be wise,” Amaryllis said.

They actually began to talk politics, Amaryllis questioning Gunther over his views of the laws pertaining to necromancy, and while that was interesting enough, I had my mind occupied by other things.

Sure, the day had gone... well. I might have lost a friend and I didn’t, instead I had made one. But at the same time, I was left wondering just what was left in store for us in the coming days. Amaryllis’ near-kidnapping hadn’t been a coincidence, which meant that someone had deliberately targeted my friend.

I... we would need to get to the bottom of it. Together!

“What are you smiling about now?” Amaryllis asked.

“Nothing,” I said.