with the balloons, Raphtalia’s crying started to subside. It grew intense again if I backed away from her. And when it grew intense again, the balloons came back. I ended up getting very little sleep.
“Um…”
“You’re awake?”
“Ahh?!”
She was shocked to find herself in my arms, and her eyes grew wide in surprise.
“Ah… That was tiring.”
It would be a little while before the castle gates opened. This was my only shot to get a nap.
Our job for the day would be selling off the medicine I’d made and the herbs we’d gathered. If the herbs sold for a better price than the medicine, there was no point in making medicine.
“I’m going to take a nap. Can you eat the leftover fish for breakfast?”
She nodded slowly.
“All right then, night. If monsters come, wake me up.”
It was hard just to keep my eyes open. I felt myself being drawn to sleep.
What was she so afraid of? I didn’t plan on asking her. It must have been that her parents sold her off, or that she was taken away.
Even if it was the latter, I didn’t need to return her. It’s not like I’d stolen her, I’d paid a hefty price for her service.
She could hate me if she wanted. I needed to stay alive.
I had to find a way back home.
Chapter Twelve: What’s Yours is Mine
The sun was high in the sky when I woke up. Raphtalia was waiting for me.
“Are we going back to town? Cough…”
“Yeah.”
She was coughing again. I silently passed her some medicine which she swallowed in silence as well.
We went to an apothecary and tried to sell our wares.
“Well these aren’t bad at all… Hero, do you have a background in medicine?”
He acted like we were already close associates as he looked over the medicine I’d made.
“Nope. Yesterday was my first try. Would it be more profitable to sell these medicines, or to directly sell the herbs?”
“That’s a tough one. Medicine, if effective, is easier to use, and therefore probably easier to sell.”
The owner looked at Raphtalia. He seemed calm, cool. He spoke directly and simply, as if he knew we would doubt his council if his eyes were darting around the room.
“The prophecies are pushing the price of medicine up though, so it’s probably more profitable to sell the medicine.”
“Hmmm.”
It would depend on the risk involved in fabrication, as some percentage of attempts were sure to end in failure. I also had no idea how much it would cost to assemble the necessary tools for the job. But I would need them to do it, regardless.
“Do you have any tools that you don’t use anymore?”
“I thought about telling you two weeks ago, when you came to sell those herbs.”
The owner wore an odd expression, like half of a smile. In the end, he took the herbs as payment for instruction, bought the medicine I’d made, and gave me some of his older, used tools.
He gave me a proper mortar and pestle, as well as some other things: scales, flasks, and the like. I got the impression that, had I bought them new, it would have come to a hefty price.
“They’re all old and clunky, so I don’t know how much you’ll get out of them before they break.”
“Sounds perfect for a beginner like me.”
Regardless, it was plenty of equipment to start experimenting with compounds and fabrication.
Now all we needed to do was sell off the balloon skins we had.
We were on our way to the loot shop when a kid we passed in the street caught my eye. The kid was playing with a balloon, bouncing it up and down like a ball.
Raphtalia was watching him too, jealousy in her eyes.
“Hey, that…”
“Hm?”
I pointed to the ball the kid was playing with and asked the shop owner about it.
“Yes, well it’s made from battle loot. From balloon skins.”
“I get it. Can you make me one too? You can subtract the cost from the amount of skins we sell you.”
The owner calculated the cost, subtracted it from our total, then gave me both the money, and a ball made from the balloon
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