Chapter 31
????????
I never much checked my email either…
“Aurelia is out today with Ines and Chrysa, for a girl’s day,” Austin says, barely looking up off the chunk of metal he’s heating to a gleaming red-yellow.
Sweltering heat pounds off the furnace, and the breeze facilitated by the nearby ocean cannot break the Summer warmth today.
Even if the Mid Summer in the year cycle is more mild, pairing it with the forge results in Florida Summer levels of sadness.
“I’m not here to see Aurelia,” I say, and his sharp hazel eyes cut toward me.
He sneers, “Well, you should be.”
I blink, and Yami rests her head against my hip. “What? Why?”
His eyes roll back down to his work. “She was excited. She invited you. Then you never showed up this morning.”
First of all, how early do girls’ days start? I’ve literally just rolled out of bed, told Samson I was heading to town, and set off with Yami. It is a modest…almost noon.
Okay, maybe I overslept. Maybe battling through the Cosmic Mines all day yesterday while skirmishing with my thoughts about what to do next with my eight-hearted Samson took a lot out of me.
It, however, also put a lot into my bag. Gemstones galore.
Which is, of course, why I’m here.
You sell your mine stuff to Austin. His dialogue implies irritable awe. It’s my favorite thing that the dev coded in Austin being annoyed by how awesome you are when you sell all your fancy stuff to him.
I’m ready to take everything he has and walk away as a millionaire.
But first. “I don’t…remember being invited?”
Austin moves his chunk of metal to a shining anvil, lifts a slender hammer and a fatter one, then—very carefully, with a shocking precision, begins tapping a dent into the chunk.
“Citrus,” he says, focus latched onto the silver material as sweat beads crawl down his cheek, “do you not check your mail?”
I tense. “I…um…”
The distress in his sigh actually, genuinely, burns me more than the sheets of molten air congesting in this room. “I’ll tell my poor sister you don’t hate her.”
“She thinks I hate her?” I blurt.
“Well, she has been inviting you out for a while now, without a single response. She was hopeful this time that things would be different, since we had lunch together recently. But no, things were not different. So. Yeah. She thinks you hate her by proxy of being my sister.” He glares, for half a second, because the metal he’s working on is very important to him.
“If you hate me, you better not take an ounce of that out on her. She’s completely different from me. Completely innocent. Got it?”
“Yeah…I know. I like Aurelia. I’m sorry. I had no idea she was sending me letters. I haven’t checked my mail in…weeks.”
Stiff, he nods. “Make sure she knows that.”
“Why didn’t she say anything at lunch the other day?”
His auburn brow arches as he deftly turns the metal with the hammers.
“Why would she put you on the spot like that? It’s polite to make requests via letter because then you can respond via letter.
It’s easier to gather your thoughts and easier to reference what was actually said. Spoken words are fleeting.”
That…is brilliant on so many levels. I can’t believe I never realized it before.
In a community where you see everyone constantly and can find anyone just about any time of the day, they communicate through letters for the same reasons I’d text my boss instead of calling whenever I had to ask for a day off.
Those messages would go something like: Dying. Mercy. Forgive me.
He’d throw a thumb down reaction, and I’d pass out from fever, hoping I still had a job when I got up.
I am frightened by what is in my mailbox. I can’t remember the last time I opened it. The fact it doesn’t make a noise when it’s got something in it is actually quite detrimental to my receiving the contents. The little red flag that goes up and down really should be larger.
While I’m marveling at how swiftly guilt and dread can get their talons in my flesh, Austin tucks the metal piece back under a bed of coals, and turns to me. “Weren’t you taught any manners?”
My head shakes. “I really wasn’t. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I didn’t know, and I’d never mean to hurt Aurelia.”
His eyes narrow, but he nods sharply. Again. “I appreciate the sentiment. Why are you here?”
Oh. Right.
I head toward the counter at the front of the room, pull off my backpack, and will the hoard from the mines to tumble out onto the slab of wood when I dump it upside down.
Austin cusses, taken aback as the mound continues to grow. And grow. Yikes. There was a ton more than I thought, actually. I guess it was dusk by the time we got back… No wonder I overslept.
Once the final rock tumbles out, I say, “I’m here because I wanted to sell these.”
Austin’s attention flies up to my face. “What?”
“There are garnets, emeralds, a ruby.” According to what my inventory labeled everything as when I checked.
“I’m still on the hunt for a diamond, and a tourmaline, but that’s negligible information.
” I laugh, clear my throat, rest my bag against my leg, where Yami sniffs at it before nuzzling my fingers. “Tada.”
Austin…twitches. “Tada? Tada? Are you insane?”
“Huh?”
“Where did you get all this?”
“The mines, duh.” The Cosmic Mines, to be precise. But Austin doesn’t need my precision. He’s got plenty of his own if what he was working on a moment ago is any indication.
Jerking a leather glove off, he throws his fingers into his hair and inches toward the counter.
“I can’t afford all this. I can’t even do anything with most of it.
I—” He tosses his hand toward the furnace.
“I’m making an axe, Citrus! I’m not a jeweler, and it’s rare that anything Lia’s blessed with resilience needs to be replaced. ”
I blink.
That.
Makes a lot of sense.
Heat swarms to my cheeks. “Well…what am I supposed to do? Who do I sell to?”
Austin blows out a breath and begins carefully examining my hoard.
“Pyro might want to take a look, since he’s gifted and actually needs these conduits to fight with his gifts, but he’s not going to want everything, and he’s probably honestly already set with most of it.
Your best bet is Mimet. She’s got a knack for business and will know exactly where to invest.”
I shudder. “Mimet…huh?”
His hazel eyes hit me. “Why’d you say it like that?”
I look elsewhere. “No reason.”
“You have a problem with Mimet?”
“Noo…” I mutter, “I have a problem with…the crowds…and the noise…when Mimet comes.”
“Are you serious?”
I frown, adjusting my glasses on my nose. “Well, sorry. Some of us aren’t abrasive blacksmiths who shove our way through the masses to sell…whatever it is you sell.”
His eyes roll. “Blessed tools. I sell blessed tools.”
“Lame. Using your sister’s efforts to make money for yourself.”
His eyes close, and he frees a cooling breath.
“Calling me abrasive when you’re like this…
She kinda lives here, too, stupid. We use our efforts to make money for ourselves.
” He swipes a hand over his face. “Tell you what, I’m already planning to join the fray this Sunday.
I’ll just take this stuff with me and sell it for you. ”
That sounds too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”
He scoffs, fixing a sardonic smile on me. “No catch. I’ll just put whatever you earn off it in your mailbox, so if you want your money, you’ll probably have to check your mail.”
“Devious.”
His pathetic shoulders shrug as he heads back to the flames and pulls his lump of metal from the coals. “Those are my terms. Trust me, or brave the people yourself.”
Yeah, I will not be doing that second part. “Thank you, Austin. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, whatever. It’s not a big deal.” He sets his hammers up again, beginning the next tedious step in the process of making an axe, I guess. “We take care of each other here. Don’t forget that.”
For the first moment, in all my years of playing and all my days of being here, I don’t think I quite despise Austin like I normally do.
Maybe there’s more to everyone than their condensed game character arcs could imply.
“I won’t,” I say. “Samson and I are gonna be heading back to the mines tomorrow, since I’m on the hunt for a diamond and stuff. Is there anything you need?”
“Iron. Always iron. Never not iron.”
“Oh-kay. Good to know.” True to game, that is his favorite gift. “I’m gonna go check my mail now.”
Voice thick with sarcasm, he says, “What a riveting idea.”
I grin. “Yup! So glad I thought of it all by myself! Bye!”
Austin rolls his eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile on his face before Yami and I head out to the farm…and my overflowing mailbox.
Shame constricts around my chest as I shuffle through letters—invitations to girls’ days, scripted vegetable requests, a cooking class announcement, which I’m pretty sure is the basic introduction on how to cook from Neptun.
Which is weird.
Because my farmhouse remains a dilapidated shack.
And this letter is scheduled to appear right after you upgrade to the farmhouse that includes a kitchen…
I guess, technically, I’ve had access to a kitchen for a little while now, though.
Who knew that staying in Samson’s house would trigger this event?
The world through reality’s lens is so weird it’s practically astigmatic…
but I think I’m getting more used to seeing clearly in spite of it.
No matter where I am, people are strange and more complicated than meets the eye.
Sometimes even the rudest ones care about their sisters and are willing to brave a rabble on the behalf of someone they barely care about, just because.
Sometimes people leave you crying on an overdue stack of mail, thankful that—even though you didn’t realize it earlier—you’ve joined them: the strange, the complicated, the community.
Sniffling, I push my glasses out of the way to dry my tears and murmur, “I’m gonna need to get some stationary…”
Preferably, some with lemons on it.