Vermillion

Artisan

“—Which is exactly why you should pay it back before speaking!” yelled a slender man with a brown bandana in front of the workshop.

“I’m lowering my head like this precisely because I can’t do that!” responded a well-built man with black, frizzy hair who was red in the face.

“You’ve said this before! How many times has it been now!?”

“Then what should I do, starve to death?!”

“There’s other things you can do before starving, right?! Sell your stuff, sell your house! Put in some effort, would you?!”

“I am! I’m trying! But, selling my house is the last thing I’d do! I’m begging you, I’m really in trouble here!”

“I’ve heard that one countless times too! Just go home already!”

“You! Is that how you speak to your senior apprentice!? The well-built man vigorously pressed the man with the bandana in their argument.

Kei and Aileen whispered as they watched.

“Are they talking about money?”

“I think so.”

Based on what they heard, the argument seemed to be them repeating ‘I want you to lend me some money.’ and ‘I’m not going to lend you any.’ Also, from the fed up appearance of the man with the bandana, this wasn’t the first or second time. Nor did it seem like he paid back what was already borrowed. The stocky man tried his best, “I’ll pay it all back next time!” but he didn’t even look confident in himself.

“—I get it! I get it already, I know how you feel!”

The stocky man sat down with his arms and legs folded, stating in a loud voice, “Without your help I’m done for! If I’m going to fall over and die in some alley then I’ll just die right here and now!” He sat as still as a rock.

Aileen’s expression was one of amazement, and while dumbfounded Kei said, “He’s pretty serious…”

“Ugh, enough…” The irritation of the man with the bandana was written plainly across his face as he covered his face with his hand and sighed. His eyes fell upon Kei and Aileen standing on the side of the road. “O-oh. A customer?”

Soon after, the well-built man sitting cross-legged noticed them too—a dirty smile crept onto his lips.

“Ah~… Sorry to interrupt while you’re busy. Would this be Montand’s workshop?” Kei asked hesitantly.

“Yes, it is! This is the marvelous Montand’s workshop! So many customers today that it makes me jealous, am I right?” The stocky man laughed flippantly and cast the man with the bandana a sidelong glance.

“I am Montand… What can I help you with?” The man with the bandana asked as he turned toward them with an ashamed expression.

Kei froze for a moment. The stormy atmosphere kept him from nonchalantly saying, ‘Postal service~.’ Above all, the stocky man that had been smiling unpleasantly toward them bothered him. Kei’s eyes flicked between them.

It was silent for a moment, only a small moment, but Montand understood from Kei’s bewilderment and his gaze. “Ahh, alright… Excuse me, just wait a minute please.” He suddenly turned around, violently opening the workshop door and disappearing inside. It sounded like he was rummaging through shelves. “Here, this should be fine!” Clearly annoyed he reemerged from the shop and tossed a small purse to the stocky man who was still on the ground. A few silver coins spilled out with clings onto the stone pavement. “That’s the last time! I’m not giving you any charity again, not after this!”

As he smiled abjectly the stocky man picked up the coins, not even trying to hide his disdain for Montand, “Heheh… Thanks, thanks. I’m sure something will come from this. I wouldn’t expect less of my reliable junior… I’ll make sure to pay it back eventually.”

Montand snorted, showing his lack of trust as he answered with only a stern look and his lips pressed tightly closed.

The stocky man carefully tucked the purse away in his breast pocket while he quietly left toward the old town.

“Hah…” with a depressed sigh, Montand took off his bandana and ran his hand through his blonde hair before he faced Kei again. “I’m sorry. That was unsightly.”

“Ah, no problem…”

“So then, what can I do for you?” He asked with a refreshing business smile.

Kei’s face stiffened. This atmosphere made it hard to nonchalantly say ‘Postal service~,’ in its own way.

“Actually, I’m sorry. It isn’t that important of a business matter… My name is Kei. Yesterday, we left from a short stay at Tahfu, where the village leader Bennett asked us to deliver this letter to your wife…” Timidly, he showed Montand the envelope in his hand.

Montand looked at the signature on the back and raised his voice in surprise, “Oh! My Father-In-Law, it sure has been a while! You came here just to deliver this? Thank you.”

He was unexpectedly happy, contrary to expectation. Kei scratched his head and looked awkwardly away.

“No, I’m sorry. We only came to deliver a letter, so…”

“Hm?”

“Earlier… You had to loan money out because I made you feel rushed…” Kei said as he looked in the direction the stocky man went.

“Ahh,” Montand nodded understandingly. He smiled slightly, looking resigned, “Don’t worry about it. If I didn’t lend him the money then that guy would actually have stayed like that… He’d be in the way of business, so sooner or later I would’ve had to lend it to him anyway. By the way,” he continued, “you mentioned you two came from Tahfu? How was my Father-In-Law?”

“Oh, Bennett looked like he was doing well.”

“I see, that’s good then… If it’s not a bother, would you mind talking with my wife about Tahfu? She hasn’t been back in a long time, so I’m sure she’d be happy to hear about it.”

Kei and Aileen looked at each other.

“I’m cool with it.”

“Sure then.”

They planned to check out some armor and leather shops after delivering the letter, but since Montand was a craftsman, he might introduce them to a skilled leather worker for Mikazuki’s hide.

Kei took up his request, judging it to be better to get along with him.

“Why don’t we head on in?”

Kei and Aileen accepted his invitation and went into the workshop.

The inside was clean and polished.

Kei thought that a workshop would be a disorderly work space, but Montand’s was entirely the opposite.

The stylish furniture was well coordinated with elaborate woodwork and lace. There weren’t any wood chips on the wooden floor, not even in the back. Rather than a workshop, it felt more like a small store. It reminded him of the furniture show room that he went to as a child.

“Heey, Kiska! There’s a letter from your father!” Montand shouted into the back room.

“Coming,” answered a voice. There were the sound of quick footsteps. A young, slightly plump woman came out, wiping her hands on the front of her white apron. “A letter from my father!?

“These two came to deliver it.”

“Oh my! Thank you for going out of your way. I’m Kiska.” She quickly bowed to them. Her evenly cut chestnut colored hair swayed at her shoulders. She had the same chestnut hair as Danny and Cronen. Bennett’s hair had already grayed, so their hair color might come from their mother.

“It wasn’t a big deal. We just happened to stop by…”

Kiska took the letter and quietly asked Montand, “What happened with Borris?”

With a sour look he replied, “I sent him home.”

“Hm…” she nodded vaguely as she broke the seal and began to read the letter enthusiastically.

Kei and Aileen also spoke quietly to each other.

“Borris…?”

“Probably the guy from earlier, right?”

Montand watched in silence as she was engrossed by the letter. A breeze blew in from the large, open window. Kei and Aileen, too, waited silently. Aileen took deep interest in the wooden wind chime dangling from the ceiling—which made a pleasant, high pitched sound like a xylophone when the wind blew in—and touched it. To Kei, it somewhat resembled a cat pawing at a green foxtail[1].

Kei had time, so he also looked around the shop. There was a sparkling clean and varnished wooden table. The rim was smoothed down and had an ornamental ivy engraving that felt good to his fingers. The lace tablecloth worked well with the woodwork. On top was a decoration of a bird on a branch, and it spun around when the wind blew like a weather vane. It was a delicate and elaborate piece. It showed Montand’s skill.

He turned his attention to the wall. It had several empty painting frames, which were also likely made by Montand. Though they were simple, their modest design would probably make the painting look better.

Basically, this is a place for the wealthy, huh…

The workshop was full of works that a normal person wouldn’t buy like ornate, elaborate furniture and decorations with no practical use. He probably has rich, well paying customers, thought Kei when suddenly noticed them decorating the wall in the corner.

—Arrows.

They were decorated with a golden leaf and the arrowheads were a peculiar shape. However simple they were, the manufacturing was sound.

Several different kinds of arrows hung on the wall.

“Did something catch your eye…?”

The voice came from right beside him. Taken aback, he noticed Montand wore a friendly smile.

“Yeah… I was just thinking that you make arrows, too. I got caught up looking at them,” Kei answered with a small, shy smile as he scratched his head.

He was more entranced than he realized. He didn’t notice Montand approach him at all.

With a wry smile Montand said, “Rather than making arrows too… it’s actually my main business.”

“Oh, so that’s the main job.”

“I wouldn’t make enough to get by if I just made arrows… Recently it feels like I don’t know which one is my main job.”

“May I feel one?”

“Of course, go ahead.”

With his permission, Kei reached for one of the simple arrows in the corner. “Wow…” The instant he touched it he knew it was high quality. Its dense wood was proof of its sturdiness. Arrows with this much density would make them difficult to break. The slim, sharp arrowhead on it would be hard to pull out once lodged in its target. Its smooth polished surface would reduce the friction of the arrow, allowing it to fire without losing any power, as well as piercing deeper into the flesh of the target. It had a perfect center of gravity, which would reduce the flight deviation to a minimum. From the white feather fletching to the tip, the arrow was without even a slight bend.

“This is… a good arrow,” Kei murmured in admiration.

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