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TRAS Chapter 102: All Over the World
🕑 Added 2025-05-01 09:23:01 +0000 UTCCeric Windrider was in a bad way.
The man looked gaunt, like he’d barely been eating. He’d already been in bad shape from his multi-day stint exploring Varant’s catacombs, so it was especially worrying.
Had he just been laying in bed these last two weeks? Between Ceric and Renea, Ailn really didn’t want to force two people out of bed every day. Not that Cairn would let Ceric stick around in the infirmary any longer.
“They been feeding you alright in here, Ceric?” Ailn asked, taking a seat next to the bed, and gesturing for Safi to take another. “I know hospital food can be the pits.”
“Ailn… my friend,” Ceric smiled. It was a weak smile, but he didn’t look quite as forlorn as he did last time. “I’m truly ashamed you should see me like this.” He glanced at Safi and nodded. “I would have liked to look gallant in front of the young noble lady.”
“Er… don’t mind me,” Safi said, looking a little nervous. “I’m, um… just a guest, so…”
“At any rate, worry not. I’ll spring back any moment now,” Ceric said, not sounding all too convincing. Then he met Ailn’s gaze with a troubled expression. “I am just… working through issues of trust and comradery.”
“With…” Ailn arched an eyebrow, while following Ceric’s gaze to the space beneath his bed. “Ah.”
His journal had been left lying unceremoniously on the floor. Ceric was having ‘relationship issues’ with Nightwriter. Ailn gestured toward the journal with his hand. “Mind if I take a look, Ceric?”
“Not at all,” Ceric said. “I trust you at least.”
Safi scooched her chair closer to Ailn’s to read over his shoulder.
‘Q: Did you intentionally lead me into danger, Nightwriter?’
‘A: Nothing ventured, nothing lost.’
Ailn frowned. That was pretty cold of Nightwriter. He stifled a wince, wondering if he’d bought too much into Ceric’s worldview of personifying the weird little journal.
‘Q: Please, Nightwriter! Can’t you give me a reason to believe in you? Give me something! Anything!’
‘A: Without trust, there’s no relationship.’
WIth a rather dubious tone she hardly ever used, Safi whispered into Ailn’s ear. “Is he just… writing to himself?” She tapped the page with her index finger. “Look! It’s the same handwriting!”
“Just take it at face value,” Ailn mumbled, as he kept reading.
‘Q: What did you wish for me to find in the catacombs?! Why did you send me there?! Please! Just talk to me, Nightwriter!’
‘A: It’s not you versus your partner—it’s both of you versus the problem.’
Tilting his head a bit skeptically, Ailn tried to remember if anything Nightwriter actually said could really be construed as ‘sending’ Ceric to the catacombs.
And on the next set of pages…
‘Q: What is the problem, Nightwriter? What is the purpose you’re guiding me toward?! Do you even care about my dream of solving the world’s mysteries?’
‘A: It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.’
“As you can see…” Ceric let out a deep sigh, and the escape of air made his gaunt cheeks seem even thinner. “My partner and I are working through some profound problems.”
“So, you’re worried Nightwriter has it out for you,” Ailn guessed.
“Not at all,” Ceric said, shaking his head slowly. “I am certain whatever guides Nightwriter is a noble force.” Then he put on a chagrined smile, ill-suited for his normally exuberant demeanor. “But… I am an explorer. Not a philanderer.”
“Um… philanthropist?” Safi corrected him.
“No, no, I truly love humanity,” Ceric said, shaking his head again. “And yet…” He gestured for Ailn to turn the page.
‘Q: What about my dreams, Nightwriter? My wishes? Am I merely a tool for your works?’
‘A: The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’
“It is not that I have no desire to help this world, but… being treated as a fool by my own power,” Ceric’s voice grew a little strained, and tears welled up in his eyes which normally twinkled with endless curiosity. “How can I trust a force which seems to think so little of me?”
With a grimace, he blinked his tears away. “But I will recover. Nothing will stay my adventures, and I will solve the mysteries of this world. With or without Nightwriter’s help.”
Ailn crossed his arms and started fiddling with his wrist. “Out of curiosity, when’s the last time you tried using it?”
“A week ago…” Ceric mumbled somberly. “I haven’t worked up the will to use it since.”
That’s when Safi raised her hand mousily.
Still disheartened, but never discourteous Ceric glanced at her hand, then curiously met her gaze. “Is something the matter?”
“That diary is your friend, right…?” Safi asked. There’d been doubt in her eyes before, but now there was a soft expression of understanding. “I had a friend, too… One that people didn’t really get.”
Her cheeks fell into a deep frown, as if she’d been forcing herself to keep the corners of her mouth from falling, and simply let go. “I dunno why your diary’s being so stubborn, but—” She blinked a few times. “A friend like that, where you don’t know where they came from…”
She spoke her next words very quietly. “You never know when they’re just suddenly gonna go away.”
Then her chipper smile was back as if it had never left. To Ailn, though, it looked a little hollow.
“So—give them another chance, maybe!” Safi’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Sometimes people turn around! And books can turn a new leaf!” Then she got off-topic. “Or a story you thought was kinda mid can suddenly turn really good, but then you’re left wondering does this mean I gotta read all those stories I dropped again ‘cause maybe they’re actually hidden gems?”
“But if I’m merely being used, then…” Ceric trailed off.
Ailn picked Ceric’s journal up from under the bed, and handed it to the uncharacteristically hesitant explorer. “Why not give Nightwriter one more shot, Ceric?” he asked. “As for why it would ever turn over a new page…”
“Who knows?” Ailn shrugged. “If it’s been listening to us at all, I’m sure it feels bad.”
___________________
Renea and Sophie made their way to the knights’ yard, where a squire was apparently watching the puppy. Sure enough, the excited yips of a puppy could be heard from a long way off, along with the admonishing tone of an older teenage boy.
“Sit!” the squire commanded the puppy gravely.
The puppy did not sit. Instead it ran circles around the befuddled squire, barking all the while.
“How did Sir Envont ever do it?” the squire muttered to himself, tilting his head.
Though she’d been too taken with the puppy at first to notice, Renea suddenly realized the identity of the squire.
“Ah!” Renea’s hand flew to her mouth. “I know you! You’re the squire who always loses—” She stopped, clearing her throat. “Ahem. Rather, I’ve been there as Sophie healed you many times.”
“This is Sir Theo,” Sophie said flatly. “I have made his acquaintance, and he’s helped me many times.”
“L-Lady Renea! It’s an honor as always!” Theo fell to one knee in supplication.
“Erm, I’m not the Saintess anymore, so that’s okay,” Renea said, smiling as she held out her hand and helped him up. “But thank you for watching over my sister.”
“I did not say he watched over me,” Sophie said, raising an eyebrow.
Rather than respond to her quibbling, however, Renea kneeled down with joy to greet the puppy who dashed unquestioningly into her arms.
“Oh, he’s feisty!” Renea laughed. “Ahh! He’s licking my face!” She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, I should’ve brought Safi along. I’m sure this would have cheered her up…”
“Is that Lady Fleuve, you mean?” Theo asked curiously. “I’d heard she was arriving today.”
Sophie’s eyes darted between Renea and Theo, as the subject suddenly changed to Varant’s new guest.
“I do not think… the puppy is… good with strangers,” Sophie said pitifully, casting an anxious glance at Renea. Then she turned and squinted at Theo. “...Is there a reason she piques your interest? A squire would make strange company for a vassal.”
“Huh? No, certainly not, I—” Theo stammered, clearly unaware of what he’d said wrong.
“Truly, Sophie?” Renea sighed.
___________________
Unsurprisingly, Ceric and Safi got along quite well. Though they’d met in dampened spirits, they were peas in a pod when it came to their boundless enthusiasm.
“That was when, fair countess, the ruffians closed in upon Ailn and I. Certain as I was that they were members of a cult, in truth they were masterminds of the highest order using the guise of a cult,” Ceric said, his tone both grave and exuberant. “Indeed, one had posed as my companion for years merely to get close to me.”
This was a stunningly inaccurate retelling of their misadventure in the catacombs, but it was a perfect match for Safi’s tendency to see the world as one big story.
“So, he did a face-heel turn! He betrayed you, but maybe he’ll get redeemed only at the end, yeah? But only after he goes through a bunch of training arcs with a lot of bad guys who are all supposed to be the strongest bad guy, but then his brother who he thought was the ultimate bad guy and he wanted to get revenge on him was actually an unsung hero and even though he massacred their clan—” Safi rambled aimlessly, appending quite a few details to Geoff’s plot.
“Ah, no he was a merchant unfortunately,” Ceric raised his hand apologetically.
“Aw,” Safi frowned. “Econ-drama’s okay, I guess.”
“You’re quite right,” Ceric nodded, as if he understood. “I myself have tried my hand at economic ventures, and only seen moderate success.” He hesitated, gazing at the journal which had caused him so much heartache lately, before finally deciding to open it up to a specific page.
‘Q: How can I, Ceric Windrider, become rich enough to fund my expeditions?’
‘A: The seed of an appletree is no different from the seed of an empire.’
“As you can see here,” Ceric continued, “I am in fact this very moment embroiled in an endeavor that will eventually see me to…” He hushed his voice. “The founding of an empire…”
“It’s a chaintrade questline!” Safi chirped. “What’s the last thing you got?”
“A fine glass jar from this very castle’s abbey,” Ceric gestured toward the stand next to his bed, atop which sat a cruet typically used for holding wine.
"Ooh! That looks pretty cool!" Safi nodded, then reached up to undo a clip in her hair—a delicate silver pin shaped like a rivulet. “Okay! I’ll be your next trade! My dad bought me this really nice pin a few years ago, so you’ll probably leapfrog like five items with this!
“A gift from your father?” Ceric asked. “Er… are you certain that’s fine to trade?”
“My dad gives me lots of things!” Safi said brightly.
Ceric brightened up, having finally made the next step in his imagined series of trades, and the two shook hands like long-term business partners.
They each examined their new possessions.
Safi's eyes gleamed through her new cool glass jar, but Ceric’s mood suddenly turned more pensive.
“The seed of an empire…” Ceric mumbled, as he delicately held the silver pin. Doubt crept into his expression as he once again regarded the words of Nightwriter. “Do I truly believe… someone like me could be an emperor?” His face clouded further. “Would I even desire to be an emperor?”
“It’s probably a metaphor, right?” Safi asked, one eye open and staring through the cruet right at Ceric. She likely wasn’t seeing very much. “A metaphorical empire!”
“A metaphorical empire?” Ceric echoed. “Such as…?”
“A business empire?” Safi thought aloud. “Maybe you use your reincarnator knowledge to invent rubber, and then supply chains for black pepper, and then you’ll build a rocket while everyone else scoffs and says ‘Impossible!’ Or you’ll just sell stuff and get a bunch of gold coins, and you start writing books about how you made those coins, but actually all your gold secretly comes from the books themselves—”
She cut herself off, her thoughts already veering. “Or a media empire! You use a bunch of stories and genres from our world so that you’ll invent romcoms a thousand years before this world is supposed to get romcoms! But try not to plagiarize, ‘cause then you just have a guilt arc and a paranoia arc where every time you get a weird look you’ll think ‘Does this man know about Shakespeare?’ and you give it all up, anyway.”
“Those are worthy endeavors for my talents, certainly,” Ceric nodded. “But however wonderful science, business and literature are—the maiden of my heart will always be adventure.”
“Then form an adventurer’s guild!” Safi gesticulated excitedly, almost throwing the cruet into the air. “Like, it’ll have a guild receptionist, and people’ll take missions and go on adventures like you do!”
“An adventurer’s guild…” Ceric mumbled.
“Yeah! Yeah… yeah!” Safi was nearly hopping out of her seat, since she was on a roll. “And—and Ailn can give you money! He made a bunch recently!”
“I… I see,” Ceric said, with a look of dawning realization. “But how large of a guild would it have to be to be likened to an empire…?”
“You can find people from all over the world! And maybe we can try to find reincarnators like us—and other people who aren’t like us! I’ll make my dad join!” Safi exclaimed, leaping out of her chair.
With Safi’s father excitedly volunteered, the still nascent worldwide adventurer’s guild already included the illustrious company of at least one count—to say nothing of the fact that it would be funded by at least one duke.
Then, Safi burst her arms out as wide as they could go. “It’ll be this big!”
Comments
Lemance
I wonder just how many references Safi will make by the end of story lol
