This Used To Be About Dungeons полностью

Mizuki raised one hand into a fist, then opened it with force while thrusting out. There was a single licking arc of electricity, barely visible in the sunlight.

“Disappointing,” said Mizuki. “But… stronger than I’d thought it would be?”

“We’re in a party, ay?” asked Hannah.

“Does that… help?” asked Mizuki, blinking.

Hannah nodded. “I suppose maybe there are things a school for sorcs woulda taught you, ay?”

“But why would it help?” asked Mizuki. “The aether is the aether. I’m using your castoff. It shouldn’t matter that we’re in a party together.”

“Parties help anyone,” replied Hannah. “All my spells work better on party members and a bit less so on guild members. It’s a matter of connection.”

“The aether is the aether,” Mizuki muttered, as though she was willing to match her ignorance against Hannah’s knowledge. Her confidence crumpled quickly though. “I just don’t get why it would work, since being a sorc isn’t about connection, it’s about the aether. Your castoffs are, I guess, connected to you, and being a party member means they’re connected to me, but it shouldn’t matter, that’s all I’m confused about.”

“You didn’t feel it when we were in the dungeon?” asked Hannah.

“Maybe,” said Mizuki, frowning. “To be honest, my heart was in my throat most of the time, and I was just trying to fight down the panic. I thought I was just doing a good job.”

“And you did!” said Hannah. “But also probably bein’ in a party helped you out.”

Before they could move on to the next biggest piece of Hannah’s healing arsenal, Verity returned. She’d tied back her hair and put on a different dress, this one white with lavender highlights, and she was carrying her lute, which she carefully set down.

“What happened here?” asked Verity, looking around at the overgrown garden. She seemed taken aback.

“It used to be a garden,” said Mizuki with a shrug. “Grandpa was really into gardening, it was how he relaxed. I never really took to it though.”

“This is horrible,” said Verity, still looking at the plants. She didn’t see the sour look on Mizuki’s face. Verity drifted over to one of them, a bushy plant with broad leaves and a single drooping flower. She reached down and stuck a finger in the soil, then looked at the base of the plant. “You poor thing.”

“I said I never really took to it,” said Mizuki. “Can we leave it at that?”

“Oh,” said Verity, standing up. “Oh, I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—in Dondrian it’s one of the womanly arts, and it was my favorite.”

“Gardening is… womanly?” asked Mizuki.

“I don’t know what it’s like in Kiromo, or even in Pucklechurch,” said Verity, “but there are five womanly arts in Dondrian. Gardening, needlework, reading, music, and languages. I was always terrible at languages.”

“Well, I do know how to read,” said Mizuki. “So one out of five isn’t bad.”

“You don’t speak Kiro?” asked Hannah.

“Two out of five isn’t bad,” said Mizuki, nodding.

“Well, reading is more, ah,” said Verity, measuring her words. “There are quite a few books you’re expected to have read, along with keeping up with more current works, and being a proper woman means being able to allude to all these books you’ve read when in conversation with others and to understand the references that everyone else makes.” She shrugged.

“That sounds horrible,” said Mizuki.

“Ah, I think I have a better understandin’,” said Hannah. “It’s not ‘womanly arts’, it’s stuff for rich women to do.”

“Well,” said Verity, frowning, “I’m not sure I would say that.”

“Did you have maids, growin’ up?” asked Hannah.

“A few,” said Verity, folding her arms. “But the success of my family isn’t—I mean, it’s not like those things are—needlework is a plainly useful skill, and gardening is too.”

“Hey,” said Mizuki, “why isn’t cooking a womanly art?”

“Well I have no idea,” said Verity. “It’s not like I made them up.” She shrugged again, then looked at Mizuki. “I’m sorry if I insulted your garden, I just,” she looked around again, “I like gardening.”

“Well,” said Mizuki. “Like I said, it’s my grandfather’s garden. He wasn’t able to take it to Kiromo with him.”

Hannah looked at the two of them. “I think it’s always better, when you get an apology, to make it clear you accept it.”

Mizuki rolled her eyes, then looked at Verity. “Verity, I fully and earnestly accept your apology.” She looked back at Hannah. “Better?”

“Much better,” replied Hannah, beaming at her. They both looked a bit happier too.

“If I do end up coming around,” said Verity.

“Coming around?” asked Mizuki.

“Well, this is the obvious place for us to meet, if we’re in a party,” said Verity. She shifted. “I didn’t mean to presume.”

“I kind of thought that you’d end up staying here more than just the one night,” said Mizuki, shrugging. “If you wanted to.”

“Oh,” said Verity, eyes widening slightly. “Well, that’s kind.”

“You can think on it,” said Mizuki. “No rush.”