Chapter 410: A Balm For Every Occasion

Soap.Outside the worst tavern in Wirtzhaven that no amount of crowns could fix, Marina stood with her arms limply by her sides, staring ahead without focus.

Soap.

The winding alley which housed the constantly swinging door beside her was as bustling as any Reitzlake street, filled with the drunk and those soon to join them.

Soap.

Blissful smiles filled the faces of those stumbling past her, each unaware of their recent brush with mortal peril when an ancient curse manifested as a burning witch over their very heads.

Soap.

Questions raged like the thundering charge of a dozen town aunties as they waited outside the only decent shop to make use of the early bird discounts on revitalising knee balms which weren’t really discounts because Marina knew they never sold at full price.

She blinked, over and over again.

It did precious little. Each increasingly long squint failed to either wash away the fatigue or make the faces of those hurrying past her any clearer.

In fact, it only became worse.

Marina slumped against the wall as the weight of a thousand questions pressed down upon her aching joints. Her aching everything. But most of all her head.

There was so much she needed to ask. So much she needed to know.

And yet of all the questions on her mind, the very greatest … was soap.

“Ughhhhhhh …”

Marina clutched her face in her hands. 

Her current status was highly ambiguous. 

She had no idea if she was the Witch of Calamity or if she should be adding the words ‘former’ or ‘tentative’ to her employment record. How the curse functioned and how it was sealed were both mysteries which no living being could solve. She wasn’t even sure if she was a mage anymore.

But that didn’t matter.

Nothing did.

Because of all the things which were most responsible for causing her vision to spin despite gormlessly staring straight ahead … it was how she was expected to make soap.

Or at least in the highly variable quantities that she apparently wanted. 

Her.

A princess.

The most absurd adventurer to have ever stuck her nose into everybody else’s business … was a princess.

Even amidst the raging squall of her nightmares, she’d heard the title spoken by that voice which existed only to laugh at her. Repeatedly. Even when nothing was remotely funny.

It was somehow both the most senseless and painfully obvious thing Marina had ever missed.

All this time, she’d assumed the girl was the runaway daughter of some relieved baroness, off to play at being the world’s most impudent adventurer. Except that adventurers didn’t have the authority to send people off to some … island either made of soap or where soap was made.

The distinction was unclear.

As was everything else.

“Haaaaaaaaaah …”

What she did know, however, was that the insatiable wrath was gone.

The lack of ire in her sigh told as much. 

The molten fury which had spawned literal wings and borne her aloft was no more. That had been replaced by relief the likes of which she’d never known existed. Like a cave mole who had never experienced sight, she had no idea such an absence of … discontent was possible. 

Or maybe she’d simply made herself forget.

The flames within her were gone. Something else was there instead. Something warm instead of calamitous. She could sense it like the pigeons which always stole into her shop. 

The touch of summer, as gentle as a … well, not a spring breeze, at least.

That was the most devastating force to exist.

“–Oh? Your skin is glowing. Not as much as earlier, but more than usual. How very suspicious. I’ve heard this is a common side effect of a maiden being courted. Could it be that you’ve finally found a hint of romance?” 

The second most devastating thing, of course, was the unneeded comments about her love life.

Marina’s nose was already wrinkled as she turned to the side.

Despite the haziness of her vision, it wasn’t enough to spare her from seeing the familiar, unwholesome smile, nor the eyes of scarlet and gold somehow engineered to shine in the shadows.

There she was. 

The Dealer.

Just beside her as though she’d always been there.

A cute trick. But not as much as her ability to dispense with shame.

She was still getting dressed.

Undecipherable to the very end, she was busy fitting her shoes on, all the while her attire waited to be adjusted from its current state as something so scandalous it was a wonder why nobody stopped to gawk. 

“Tch.”

Marina clicked her tongue.

To no longer be engulfed by literal flames was a relief. But it also meant she’d wasted an opportunity to do away with the perennial nuisance of her life. As well as countless others.

It was her only regret.

Had she tossed a [Meteor] upon this gnat, she had no doubt all her sins would be forgiven.

Sadly, that ship had now passed.

“[Fireball].”

Marina lazily raised a finger.

A spark less than the striking of flint appeared.

The Dealer made no reaction. It irked Marina to no end to know that for once, the girl wouldn’t have blinked away had her magic decided to make a cameo.

“... What do you want?” she asked, turning away.

“I want lots of things,” replied the entertained voice. “A salary, perhaps. With bonuses including overtime pay and meals on shift. Maybe even annual holidays as well.”

“Then go bother the Grand Duchess for it. You won’t find her here.”

“So you say. But Her Radiance has many gifts. And to walk unseen amidst shadows and moonlight would not be beyond her.”

“In the gardens of Granholtz maybe. But not in the alleys of this kingdom.”

“That’s unfair. The alleys of this insignificant kingdom are actually quite notable. There’s no telling what awakened beings of calamity might be found amongst them. Or is it ‘former’ being of calamity now?”

Marina bit her lips.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “The Summer Queen … she’s sealing the curse.”

The Dealer fixed the rest of her clothes. She spun to test the thoroughness of the seams. And also to continue demanding Marina’s attention.

“The Summer Queen,” she said, daring to sound impressed. “She who is the tempest herself. The elves speak bitterly of her. It’s said that her flames still burn in the ruins of their kingdom.”

“If the elves don’t wish for their houses to be on fire, they shouldn’t build them in the Fae Realm.”

“True. Or perhaps the elves should ask a princess for a favour. She seems to be well acquainted. Fae, devils and witches. For a member of royalty, her company is almost as concerning as yours.” 

The frown came at once.

Of course this pest knew. Everyone did. Because nobody else was busy.

“I’ll do my best to make amends,” said Marina, raising her hand in search of a scar which wasn’t there. “I imagine I’ll have little choice in the matter. A life of mundanity awaits me.” 

She turned her hand over. 

No proof existed of the fate she’d avoided. Her skin was as slightly blotchy as she could remember.

Only the faintest speck of magic was present.

It was strange. What should come easily to her was now as foreign as performing a handstand. But the strangest thing was that she didn’t feel overly mournful. 

A voice which had always taunted her was now silenced. 

“... Is that so?” said the Dealer, as a cloud moved just enough to allow a trace of moonlight to shine upon her. Surprisingly, she didn’t turn into ashes. “My congratulations. You have your happy ending.”

Marina snorted.

“If you believe this is a happy ending, you need to be nosier.”

“An impossibility. My lodgings are already practically the dusty space behind people’s curtains.”

“You chose the wrong curtains, then. I’m now threatened with a different curse. That of soap.”

“Oh? That sounds rather pleasant.”

“It isn’t. I’m a prodigious alchemist and a learned mage. Even if I can’t cast fire, it’s an utter waste of my talents.” Marina paused. “... I’ve also never made soap.”

“You’re a prodigious alchemist, as you said. The process isn't far different to the balms you make. I’ve no doubt you could even concoct something to help you escape. Perhaps with the help of the witches. A boat made of soap would likely amuse them enough to aid you.”

It pained Marina to think that was true. 

She didn’t know the witches. But she knew her mother. And an escape craft which slowly dissolved itself while remaining fragrant was the exact type of thing that woman would consider silly enough to become an accomplice to.

“Escape is unlikely,” she said simply. “You underestimate the Golden Hogs. They’ve all volunteered to ensure I remain safe and sound in whatever floating minotaur labyrinth that ridiculous girl … adventurer … princess has somehow dredged from the bottom of the sea. Frankly, I’ve no idea what it is. And that is disconcerting.”

“It’s actually rather pleasant. I visited.”

“… Why? Were you imprisoned?”

“Sadly, no. Incarceration isn’t available to me. It’d count as an unauthorised rest.”

“Yet here you are, wasting time with me.”

“No time is ever wasted with you. Our conversations are relentlessly enlightening, and your every attempt to playfully murder me a bright spot in my memories.”

Marina let out a sigh.

If she could be rid of this pest, then she’d personally swim to any floating island prison.

“Is there something you wanted from this final meeting … ?”

“Final meeting?”

“My magic is spent. And my objective has been met. I have no further use for you. And you for me.”

The Dealer’s cheeks almost threatened to dimple from the strength of her smile.

“Ah? Are you trying to resign? … Because I’m afraid Lotus House isn’t reasonable enough to allow even its most distantly involved members to leave. Ours is a fellowship of constantly up to no good. And you still have the capacity to assist in that regard. I’m therefore here to offer new employment once you find yourself released from that lovely island.”

Marina raised her finger once again.

“[Fireball].”

Once again, only the faintest spark came out.

The message was still received. 

“A payout it is, then,” said the Dealer, lightly flicking Marina’s fingertip away. “Your debt to the Hidden Library has already been cleared. But after your royal flush tonight, you’ve earned a bonus round. I shall therefore let you ask any question and I will truthfully answer.”

Marina raised an eyebrow.

Little of anything this pest ever said interested her. This was different. 

After all, who the Dealer was remained a topic of curiosity.

But in the end–it was also a question joining the thousands already in her head. And so she disregarded them all for the one which truly mattered.

“Does … Does that girl actually intend for me to make soap?”

“The princess is an enigma. A light in the shadows. The sword who unsheathes against both the heavens and the hells. She is a mystery without an answer and the answer to mysteries.”

“That doesn't answer the question.” 

“... I believe she’s being quite serious, yes.”

Marina groaned.

The sound clashed with the sound of merriment resonating behind her. All of which was to do away with the fact that this was a fleeting moment.

The joy of a busy town would soon be beyond any of them.

BrrrRrUUuuUmuMmmMumMMMmmMMmmm.

But even quicker if it simply crumbled around them.

Marina pressed herself against the wall as the ground shuddered. 

She raised her hands instinctively … then did nothing more than shield her hair as the [Barrier] she relied upon eluded her. Bits of dust, clay and moss fell from the rooftops, joined by the sound of falling tableware, cats dashing for safety and the bell of a nearby chapel forced to violently ring. 

As the quaking came to a stop, Marina dusted it all away without care.

“No comment?” asked the Dealer, looking slightly impressed. 

“None.”

“Most would be more curious about the fact the ground had just trembled.”

“I can think of many reasons that might occur. None are to do with me.”

“Will you share them with a certain princess? ... I imagine she’ll be making inquiries.”

Marina raised an eyebrow.

Then, she opened the door to the tavern. 

Light flooded out to greet her, along with the sound of feet treading on broken plates, a handful of groans and a call for more wine.

“In that case, I’ll let her handle this. I’m busy. Making soap.”