Chapter 25: Flying sword

Noah woke to a faint click. He sprung from his bed, wind swirling to his fingertips and his hands raising defensively in front of him before his eyes had even fully opened. The door stood slightly ajar, and a wide-eyed girl several heads shorter than him stood on the other side, her face pale. She had long black hair that nearly touched the ground and dull yellow eyes.

The girl quickly raised her hands and backed up, leaving a small, brown paper wrapped package on the ground before him.

“Please don’t attack!”

Noah lowered his hands, confusion marring with his pumping adrenaline. “What? What are you doing? How did you open my door?”

“I’m delivering your mail,” the girl stammered, pointing at the package on the ground. “I’m sorry! You had it listed that couriers could enter your room to deposit any packages! I’ll be sure to update things immediately. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me!”

Noah let his hands drop and dismissed the magic. “Crap. I’m sorry. I won’t attack you, I swear. I just had a small bout of amnesia and forgot about mail. Ah – is there another way to receive mail in the future? Maybe you could knock?”

The girl swallowed and gave him a jerky nod. “I can knock.”

“That would be best,” Noah said, making his voice as soft as possible. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ve been fighting monsters a bit too much as of late, and it’s made me jumpy. Do you take tips?”

The girl blinked in surprise. “Tips?”

Noah grabbed the pouch of money that Moxie had given him from his bedside and fished several silver coins out of it. He held them out to the trembling girl. She eyed his hand for a moment, then slowly extended hers and let Noah drop the coins into her palms.

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to get the daylight scared out of you. I promise it won’t happen again.”

The girl swallowed again, then straightened up. “I wasn’t scared.”

Sure you weren’t. And I wasn’t about to blast you like one of the monkeys in the Scorched Acres. At least it wasn’t a vision this time. My soul must must be healing.

“I’m sure you weren’t, but it would make me feel better if you took it. Think of this as a bribe,” Noah said, hiding a laugh. “I’m No – ah, Magus Vermil. You wouldn’t want to make me feel bad, would you?”

“I’m Courier Tibbs, but everyone calls me Amy.” She gave him a small smile, then nodded. “Thank you, Magus Vermil.”

Noah walked up to the door, moving slowly to avoid startling Amy, and picked the package up. Her eyes tracked his movement and Noah raised an eyebrow.

“Is there anything else I need to do? I may have forgotten. Amnesia and all that.”

“No, that’s it,” Amy said with a shake of her head. She paused for a few moments. “You don’t seem like a weirdo.”

Noah choked. “What?”

“The other couriers said that you were one, so they gave me your route. I bet they’ll feel real stupid when I show them this!” Amy held the coins up with a victorious grin. She glanced over her shoulder, then quickly stuffed the coins into a pocket in her overalls.

“Maybe you shouldn’t show them. If they sent you to meet someone bad, wouldn’t they be mad that they didn’t get paid?”

Amy blinked. “Oh. I didn’t think ‘bout that.”

“Maybe keep the money to yourself,” Noah suggested, trying to pretend that his reputation hadn’t somehow preceded him with literal children. If even they knew Vermil was strange, there might really be no saving face with the general public of the school. “And if they cause you any problems, you come tell me. That money’s yours, okay?”

Amy beamed and nodded, their initial altercation completely forgotten. “Okay! Thanks, Mista Vermil!”

She bounced down the hall and vanished around a corner. Noah shook his head and shut the door behind her. He hooked a finger into the package and tore it open, revealing a small pile of golden coins.

Noah counted them out and his eyes narrowed. There were ten. Moxie had given him twice that. If he’d gone through everything, he wouldn’t have been able to pay her back. There was always the possibility she was rich and had no idea how much money he earned, but Noah wasn’t so sure that was the case.

Was she trying to get me into her debt?

Noah shrugged to himself. It was irrelevant now. He tucked the coins into his pocket and threw his cloak on, taking a moment to fruitlessly try to tame his curly hair before giving up and striding over to find Moxie.

He drew up to her door a minute later and rapped on it. A few moments passed and it creaked open, revealing Moxie’s irritated face.

“What do you want? It’s too damn early, Vermil.”

“Is it?” Noah asked, peering past Moxie to look through her window. The sun had barely just started to rise over the silhouette of the school behind them. “Whoops. Well, this won’t take long. I’m just here to pay your money back.”

“Oh? You have it all?”

“Yes,” Noah replied evenly. He took Moxie’s pouch of money out and added five gold coins to it, then dropped the pouch into her outstretched hand. “With some extra silver as a thank you for the loan.”

Moxie’s expression tightened imperceptibly. If Noah hadn’t been watching for it, he would have missed it entirely.

“What?” Moxie asked. “Do you want a written letter of congratulations for doing the bare minimum?”

“Feel free. You know where I live. Make sure to kiss it before you slide it under my door, though. Otherwise, it might get tossed. I get too much fanmail to keep the boring stuff.”

Moxie slammed the door in his face. Noah smirked and set out for the market. Despite his outward confidence, suspicion bubbled. Moxie had just risen several spots in his very short list of suspects of who might have tried to kill him.

I’m pretty sure she just tried to set me up, but it’s not like she knew I’d come to her for money. Maybe she’s just taking opportunities to be petty? Always possible, but I’m going to need to keep my guard up around her.

Noah remained lost in thought during the rest of his trip into the market. Before he knew it, he was standing before a shopfront and peering through the window, still moving on autopilot. He blinked back into awareness and shook his head. Moxie was right. It really was early.

He scanned the windows of nearby shops, but his search didn’t last long. A large storefront with dozens of swords and weaponry displayed in its window quickly caught his attention. A rusted metal sign swung in the gentle morning breeze above the door, identifying the building as Bilbur’s Blasted (B)weaponry.

Noah stepped inside the store and was instantly greeted by the smell of ozone and gunpowder. He scrunched his nose, letting the door thunk shut behind him, and took in the store. True to its name, weapons covered every single surface. They littered the floor in large piles and hung from the walls, many shimmering with energy. Several of them had paper wrappings around the hilt or blade.

A strikingly short man that didn’t even come up past Noah’s hips sat on a tall stool, polishing a sword with a stained rag and whistling to himself. His stool had a ladder leading up to it on the back, and put him above Noah’s eye level.

“Hello,” Noah said. “Would you be Bilbur?”

“Damn right I’m Bilbur,” the man said, looking up from his project. “And you’re a greasy little twig with no sword. Trying to fix that?”

That’s one way to get a sale. Not sure how effective it is, but it’s a way.

“Depends. I’m looking for a flying sword,” Noah said. “You have any of those?”

“Any sword can fly if you throw it hard enough.”

Noah stared at Bilbur. The short man burst into snorting laughter.

“That ‘un never gets old. Yes, you stringbean. I’ve got flying swords. You see that beauty on the wall behind me?” Bilbur twisted and pointed his sword up at a large golden plaque hanging behind him. It was trimmed with a silvery-white metal, and a beautiful sword was suspended upon it.

The blade was made of a pitch black material that strongly resembled obsidian, and it was studded with deep red rubies. The hilt twisted up in a flourish and the pommel was wrapped in golden thread.

“It’s beautiful,” Noah agreed. “And almost certainly out of my budget.”

“It’s only five thousand gold!” Bilbur exclaimed. “You’re a teacher, aren’t you? What rank are you, cheapskate? Three? Four?”

“One.”

Bilbur stared at Noah, his smile fading away. “What?”

“I’m Rank 1. Is that a problem?”

“And you’re not rich?”

“Afraid not.”

Bilbur let out a heavy sigh. “Lovely. What’s your budget, twig? I can already tell this is going to be a waste of my time.”

“How about something that costs less than five gold?”

If glares could kill, Noah would have dropped dead on the spot. He matched the man’s look without flinching. No matter how irritated Bilbur could look, it was nothing compared to the fury that the beady eyes of a Slasher held.

Bilbur broke their standoff first and glanced down. “I’ve got some beaters. Nothing great, and it might not fly too hot, but it’ll fly. Two gold.”

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for.” Noah rubbed his hands together. “Let me get one of those. Wait, if you've got cheaper swords, what about shields?”

Bilbur pierced Noah with a flat glare. "The cheapest one I've got is four hundred gold, and it's failed more times than it's worked. It's for testing."

"Right. Nevermind. Back to the swords, then. Two gold, you said?"

“Aye. You sure?” Bilbur asked. “When I say they don’t fly well, I mean it. I’d sell you one in a heartbeat, but I’m not giving you a refund if you don’t like it.”

“They won’t cut out on me mid-flight, will they?”

“No, nothing like that. More like it’ll jerk around. Have a bit of an attitude. That kind of thing. It’ll get the job done, but it just won’t be a fun ride.”

Noah shrugged. He could deal with that. If the sword wasn’t malfunctioning, as long as it got him around the forest faster, it would be a valuable investment. “That’s fine. I’ll take one.”

Bilbur tossed the sword he’d been polishing into a pile of scrap metal. It landed with a screech and a crash, and Noah winced. He could practically hear all the work Bilbur had put into the sword go up in an instant.

Entirely unbothered, Bilbur slid down the ladder on the back of his towering stool and stormed across the ground up to a pile of rusted weapons. He dug through it, tossing them to the side until he spotted one that caught his fancy.

The sword in question was nearly more rust than metal. It was a solid copper color, with a plain blade and pommel. It didn’t even have a hilt. Noah gave it a suspicious glance.

“You’re sure that’ll fly?”

“If you throw it–”

Noah’s glare silenced Bilbur before he could finish the sentence. Bilbur cleared his throat.

“Yeah. It’ll fly. Not great, but it’ll fly. Two gold. Imprinting Runes isn’t easy, twig.”

Noah pulled two gold coins out and held them out to Bilbur. Bilbur grinned and snatched them, then offered up the sword in response. Noah carefully took the blade, holding it before him like a torch.

“Is there a sheath that comes with this?”

“No.”

“Ah.” Noah grimaced. “How do I use it?”

Bilbur, who was halfway back up the ladder to his stool, squinted through the bars at Noah.

“Seriously? You can’t use a flying sword?”

“Just humor me.”

“You stand on it. And, assuming you were smart enough to have a Wind Rune or something else that enables flight, you imagine flying.” Bilbur spoke as if his answer were the most logical thing in the world. “Any more questions? Want me to show you how to tie your shoes?”

“Let’s put a rain check in that. Pleasure doing business with you,” Noah said. He raised a hand in farewell and got a rude gesture involving a middle finger in response.

It’s good to see some traditions have somehow manifested themselves on both Earth and whatever this new planet is. Some things never change.

Noah exited the shop and stepped out into the street. The sun was still barely starting its trek through the sky. Tim would already be at his usual spot, of course. He’d been there every time Noah had come to use the transport cannon.

I’ve still got some money. Should I buy something else that’ll be useful, or save up? Then again, I don’t even know what I actually need. Potions are a waste for me, as are Shields. Guess there’s no point spending money without knowing what I need, though.

His path decided, Noah set off to find Tim, excitement bubbling in his chest. It was time to practice - and to kill monkeys.