Palandri's Offer

A young man stands in a pool of blood, and his calloused hands are barely hanging onto his sword. All around him are the bodies of the assassins who just failed to take his life.

"Young master!" bellows a large man, whose voice sounds muffled until he slams the door open. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here!"

"It's fine," Young Master Palandri says as he puts his sword on the table and starts massaging his aching hands. "You were just trying to protect me when you told me to run on ahead. Who knew that the first group of assassins were merely a distraction? Without you, I'd be facing twice as many assassins, and I'd be dead."

"Who would do such a thing!?" Manni growls while he hatefully kicks one of the corpses. "I'll kill them!!"

"Who knows? Who cares?" Palandri shrugs. "We're a disgraced noble family with a high title. Everyone above and below us wants to replace us. Tracking down a single culprit won't change anything."

Palandri knows very well that his life will always be in danger until his clan regains some of the power they lost, following the Pit's destruction.

Just as the young master is thinking this, he and Manni both feel a powerful pressure appear in the room.

"Stay back!" Manni yells while pointing his sword to the center of the room. "It's another assassin!" Something about that black aura feels sinister and dangerous…

Before Manni can order his charge to run away, a short, brown skinned woman materializes in the black Aura. The woman has a black lantern in her left hand and a silver spear in her right, but most importantly, she has a pair of wide, black wings on her lower back.

Without missing a beat, Palandri gets on his knees and bows his head. "Divine Freyya," he greets her respectfully. Manni quickly drops his sword and follows suit.

With Freyya staring at him silently, Palandri desperately wants to ask her, "What do you want with me?" However, he thinks it's rude for a lesser being such as himself to speak up first.

Finally, the terrifying goddess opens her mouth slowly and says, "I sensed a small Fate and Spirit Thread between you and Haalfrin." Freyya knows that this is because of Palandri's relationship with Prella, but she doesn't point this out. "Go to Haalfrin and find some way to get him to go with you to your house."

"Divine Freyya," Palandri asks in a low voice, "what do you wish for me to do with him after he gets there?"

"It's fate," Freyya says obscurely. "Everything will sort itself out on its own the way I want it to if he goes there."

She then steps forward and places a finger on Palandri's forehead. The next moment, a long series of images start flowing through his mind. "There," she says as she steps back. "Go to the place I showed you. You'll find him there. Oh, and make sure you leave right now. If you waste any time, he'll have moved on to a different place, and he'll no longer want to go with you."

"Oh…," she adds as an afterthought, "and don't tell Haalfrin that I sent you. Come up with some sort of excuse. Make sure it's a reason you actually want, because that man's Spirit magic is more than strong enough for him to spot a liar as weak as you two."

With that said, she disappears back into her Aura, and Palandri is seemingly left alone again with his bodyguard.

Immediately after she's gone, Palandri shoots to his feet and runs out the door. "Come on Manni! We're leaving now!"

As the young master and his bodyguard rush out and grab their horses, the young master has a wide grin on his face.

'I don't have to think of an excuse to get Haalfrin over to the Vanteri house. I already have a dozen reasons I'd want him over!'

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For all of next week, the pair of young mages wear out horse after horse as they ride like their lives depended on it. After a manner of speaking, their lives DO depend on it.

Of course, it's not just the horses that are being worn out. The pair are also using up their mana pools then refilling it haphazardly with mana gems over and over again – all so that they can heal the horses and push them harder.

At long last, they arrive at the town they were directed to – a small place on the border of Gorima and Brancotte. "Where to now?" Manni asks.

"All she said was the name of the city, the exact day, as well as an image of the alley I'd find him in."

Manni smiles. "At least we made it in time. The promised day is tomorrow."

"Well, that gives us just enough time to run around the city and look for the right alley."

And they do just that. They end up having to spend the rest of the day and stay up well into the night before they find just the right place – a small crack between a bakery and someone's house.

The only thing left to do is wait on the roof or something and wait for the man himself to arrive.

"I'm really tired," Palandri says with a yawn. "Well take turns napping until one of us spots him."

"Got it, boss."

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The sun soon rises, and they see all kinds of people pass by the street, yet no one comes into the alley. The only person here is a tall man with an unkempt beard whom they found sleeping on a corner of the alley. That person too cleaned himself up and went to work in the bakery as soon as the sun rose.

Finally, as the sun is starting to set, Manni turns to his master and says, "Um… Young master? I think that the homeless person we saw earlier was Haalfrin. You know, the one who went into the bakery?"

"Nonsense!" Palandri retorts, "Sir Haalfrin is far too rich and powerful to be homeless and work in a common bakery."

Still, Manni sowed some doubt in his mind, and as it germinates in his mind, he starts to get a little anxious. 'What if we lose track of Haalfrin because of my own preconceived notions of how a glamorous gladiator should be living? Who knows? I doubt a powerful mage even needs a house to protect himself from the cold and rain, and with his powerful space magic, he doesn't need a place to store his things.'

Under that logic, Haalfrin wouldn't really need a house. The man already breaks a lot of conventions, and maybe he's the eccentric type who doesn't horde things he has no need of.

The more he thinks about this idea, the more sure he is that Manni is correct. At last, this idea has sprouted from the ground. "Come on, Manni! We're going into the bakery!"

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Before Manni and Palandri even walk inside, their noses are assaulted by the inviting smell of baking bread.

Once they walk through the doors, they see a small table on one side of the room with a locked chest on top – presumably where the owner keeps his money or has spare change for when people buy from him. On the other side of the room is a large oven in the corner and a rack with several trays full of dough.

Currently, the owner – a fat, greasy old man – is together in the kitchen with the homeless person they saw earlier. With the way the store owner is leering over the homeless man's shoulders, it seems that he's been taught how to make bread recently, and the owner is just making sure that he doesn't make any mistakes while he works.

"ENOUGH STIRRING, YOU LAZY LOUT!" the baker yells at his assistant. "YOU DON'T NEED TO KEEP AT IT 'TILL NOON! If you're always this slow to learn, then I'll have to find another assistant. There's plenty of people where you came from!"

The homeless man doesn't seem to mind his boss's pestering; he just obediently starts to separate the dough into even-sized rolls.

The owner hears Palandri and Manni come in through the door, and he steps away from his apprentice. "The bread's not out yet. You should come back in another two hours."

Palandri nods his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm actually here for your employee."

The owner looks over this pair of "customers", and he notes their clean appearances, the weapons on their hips, and the leather armor under their clothes.

"D#mn it, Haalfrin! What kind of trouble did you bring here? Did you steal something?"

The homeless person stops what he's doing and steps up behind the store owner – looking at the pair of newcomers pensively. "What is it? I'm busy."

Now that Palandri has a closer look at this "homeless man", the man does seem a little familiar, though the facial hair really does make him look like a different person. It's that, coupled with his haphazard, crumpled clothing. Plus, the man's entire body is filthy, except for his face and hands; the owner made sure he cleaned those thoroughly before he began working.

"Hello. I'm Palandri Elis Vanteri," the young master says while extending a hand. "You ARE Sir Haalfrin, correct?"

Haalfrin doesn't take his hand. Instead, he turns to his employer and cocks a thumb to the side. "Boss, I'm going to have a talk with these people real quick."

Normally, the store owner would kick up a fuss over his employee skipping out on work during baking time, but he has the feeling that these two guests are important. Feeling a little fearful, he slinks to the back and pretends like he can't hear their conversation.

Now that they're both sitting on the chairs next to the payment counter, Haalfrin speaks up first. "What do you guys want? Are you guys with the empire, or are you random nobles fretting about who I was back at the capital?"

"Um… The latter, I suppose."

Haalfrin crosses his arms and looks like he's about to say something. "Hmm… Vanteri, you said?"

"Yes," Palandri nods. He takes out his identification token from his pocket, which is a silver badge with the Vanteri emblem engraved on it, as well as a few nicks and symbols on the bottom to symbolize his exact place in the family – namely, how he's related to the head of the clan.

Haalfrin takes the badge for a second and takes a closer look; particularly, he notices the seven little nicks on the bottom of the badge. "You're Prella's great-great-great-great-great-grandnephew?"

The nicks on the bottom of the badge is a code used in Brancotte indicating your exact relation to the Duke. The seven nicks on Palandri's badge makes him a 7th generation direct descendant, while Prella has her own nicks marking her as the Duke's sister.

"Palandri smiles awkwardly and scratches the back of his head. "Well, I just call her 'Aunt.'"

"Very well. How's your Aunt Prella doing? Is she still alive?"

Looking into Haalfrin's serious eyes, Palandri can't help but look away; he doesn't quite know why. "Yes…"

Haalfrin crosses his arms and asks evenly, "What does Prella's nephew want with me? Did she finally have the courage to make contact with me?"

Palnadri shakes his head. "N-no. As far as I know, Aunt doesn't know about our meeting. In fact, I didn't even know that you and my Aunt were acquainted."

"Why'd you come to find me, then?"

Palandri deepens his breath and sits up straight. This is the part that he rehearsed for, so he knows exactly what to say.

"First off, I want to know if you're a Rehkin," Palandri asks solemnly. "I've heard that some of the more powerful Rehkin can hide their racial features."

Right now, Manni is glancing down and blushing like a fangirl. Palandri, on the other hand, has his hands clasped together on the table, and his back is straight in a professional posture.

Haalfrin shakes his head. "I know Rehkin techniques, but I'm not a Rehkin." He looks up and thinks before continuing, "If you asking that because of my display of Spirit Magic back in the arena, then don't bother."

Haalfrin leans back in his seat and drapes an arm over the back of his chair. Even his face seems to have relaxed. "Ha," he gives a short laugh, "well, I thought you were going to give some crazed offer for me to work for your family. Well… Is that what you're doing?"

Palandri shakes his head. "There's no way you'd say yes. If you've been fighting like this for 10 years, then there's no way you haven't been solicited by people more powerful than me."

"Well, you're not wrong," Haalfrin nods his head. "If you're not here to try recruiting me, then what do you want?"

Palandri looks down and curls his fist. "I was hoping you'd teach my sister Spirit Magic."

"…That's oddly specific."

"Well, there's a good reason for that," Palandri goes a little red while he's saying this. "As I'm sure you're well aware, boys tend to have Stronger Dra, while girls usually have stronger Reh. My sister has an exceptionally powerful spirit, but most of the arcane techniques in the world all center around elemental magic – Dra magic."

Haalfrin and Palandri have both been alive long enough to know exactly why elemental magic is so prominent. It has more immediate military usefulness, so far more time is spent researching it.

In a very real sense, every truly great Spirit technique is traded off by one of the Rehkin Clans, and these Spirit techniques are hoarded by the imperial family, while a few key officers get to know them as well.

(Just from this alone, it's very clear that old Kalastros had a high position in the Threshold, before he retired, seeing as how he was able to teach Haalfrin Rehkin Spirit Magic.)

Thus, the female mages tend to be traded off as wives to mages of other powerful families, since they'll get to have similar lifespans as their husbands. After all, since they have mediocre Spirit techniques at best, the only real way for their clans to have any use out of them is to marry them off.

Conversely, the only girl mages in the empire who get treated with the same respect as the male mages are the ones who come from clans with powerful Spirit techniques.

Haalfrin is most certainly old enough to have all of this political knowledge buried somewhere in his brain. It only takes him a few moments to connect the dots and realize why Palandri is asking him for this.

Clearly, his sister is in some situation – likely being married off, and the only way for her to have real bargaining power is for her to learn Spirit Magic.

Well, her situation could be slightly different, but Haalfrin isn't curious enough to ask for more details.

Frankly, Haalfrin doesn't even consider what kind of compensation the Vanteri Family could give him. He doesn't even worry about whether or not it'll be dangerous. The only thing that matters is whether or not the experience will be entertaining or not.

"Hmm… Well, learning how to bake was pretty boring," Haalfrin shrugs as he stands up. "You got a deal."

With that said, Haalfrin goes back into the kitchen and starts packing his things…

… All while his former boss is plastered to the wall, staring at Haalfrin with his mouth agape.