The Distant Trail Of Ciara Badvia

Prologue: In the Depths of the Lily Mountains
Part 2: Shopping in the Town of Lily

WELL’S SHOPPING

“So, where are we going?” Tyril asked as they started walking side by side.

“Hmm… That way.”

“… I wasn’t asking about the direction, though.”

She puffed out her cheeks and glanced at Well’s profile. He didn’t answer. The rattling sound of a cart pulled by oxen passed by on the road ahead.

“What, is it something you can’t tell me?”

Again, no response. It looked like Well was struggling with his words.

Tyril considered probing further but decided against it. After all, if he never intended to tell her in the first place, he wouldn’t have invited her into town. They were going to talk eventually, she believed, so she refrained from pressing him for answers for now.

After a while, Well’s steps finally came to a halt. They made a turn off the main road that crossed the town and entered a back alley where a small, desolate knife shop stood. A faded and tattered sign, cracked walls, a dingy entrance—the longer Tyril gazed at it, the more it looked suspicious.

“… You’re going to shop here?”

“Yeah.”

At last, she got a reply. “What’re you buying?”

But Well silently entered the shop, unresponsive once again.

“Hey, wait!” She hurried to catch up.

The inside was dusty and even darker.

Covering the length of the wall were various blades, from short daggers that could be swung in one hand to longswords taller than Tyril. In the display case in the center, there were even kitchen and pocket knives meant for everyday use.

Despite the wide selection, the neglected interior and inherently morbid nature of the products lent the place a chilling atmosphere. Tyril felt a shiver run down her spine. She ran to Well, who was closely examining the items on the wall, and like a frightened child grabbed the hem of his shirt for comfort.

“Hey, hey. What’re you buying in a place like this? You already have the sword my father gave you, right? Isn’t that enough?”

“No. It’s not a sword I want. It’s a knife.”

“A knife? But we have those at home, too. Aren’t they still plenty useful?”

“Not a regular kitchen knife. I want something stur—”

Suddenly, Well reached out and grabbed a knife from high up. It was a fairly large hunting knife. Both its handle and blade looked robust and heavy, nothing like the knives Tyril used at home.

“I want something like this.”

“Woah… That’s a knife used for hunting, right? I’ve never seen one before.”

“Hunting. Yeah. You could use it for that, too.”

Well unsheathed the knife and examined it with an unusually serious expression in his eyes. As his childhood friend, even Tyril found it difficult to disturb him at this moment. Or perhaps it was precisely because they were childhood friends that she couldn’t.

“Why are you buying a knife like this? Are you going to start hunting or something?”

Well always made time to use his sword in the forest in the name of training. It was a habit he had developed since his early days with his master, Yuis. However, he rarely ever used that time for actual hunting and catching prey.

“It’s not like that,” Well replied as he finished inspecting the knife.

It looked like he approved of its quality. He gripped the robust-looking knife and carried it to the dusty and unattended counter farther inside the shop. Well called out, “Hey!” and a shop clerk sluggishly entered from the back room.

The transaction proceeded smoothly. The entire exchange felt surreal to Tyril as she watched from the side. From Well’s wallet, he handed a bundle of bills to the clerk without hesitation as payment for the knife—a hefty sum that amounted to fifteen thousand lans. It left her speechless.

“Come again…” said the shop assistant without much enthusiasm, then retreated back into the room.

Well hung the purchased knife on his belt and the wallet back in his pocket. After readjusting the shopping bag from the market on his shoulder, he finally turned his gaze toward Tyril. “I’m done here. Let’s go get lu—”

“Why?” Tyril managed to find her voice, still looking puzzled. “Why’s that knife so expensive? No, more importantly, how can you afford it? And why buy it if you don’t even hunt?”

“I, um… I’ve wanted to buy one for a long time. For years, I’ve been saving up bit by bit from my allowance, and now I’ve finally got enough.”

“Okay, but… why do you want it so much? You never mentioned something like this before.”

“I know. I never said anything; there wasn’t a chance to bring it up. I’ll explain properly later, but how about we eat first? I’m a bit hungry too.”

Well smiled as he rubbed his stomach, but there was a hint of reluctance in his expression. It seemed he was still hesitant to talk.

But Tyril had had enough of his reservations. Her mind and heart were in such turmoil that her hunger was already forgotten, and in fact, she would rather have an explanation before a meal—but this shop wasn’t the most comfortable place to stay in. She nodded at Well’s suggestion, gently let go of the hem of his shirt, and left the dingy knife shop behind.

Well walked ahead, the familiar sight of his back looking the same as usual. Even if Tyril let go of his shirt, he wouldn’t just leave her behind.

And so she tried to laugh off her anxiousness.

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Edited on October 15, 2023.

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