Chapter Text
Odile
As the days go on, you know more and more about Siffrin, but understand less and less. There has been no sign of Siffrin’s attacker that you know of, you still don’t know what they cutting look like. You hope that person stays out of this.
You did in fact check the general store for Siffrin-sized dishes with Boniface and had no such luck. They looked in the area where the normal dishes are kept and seemed flabbergasted at the fact that there weren’t any in their size. To be honest, you were surprised that they expected them to be there in the first place.
After that disappointment, you had suggested that they check the toy area, but they vehemently denied that as an option. “They need real crabbing dishes and utensils!!” were their exact words.
Ah, right. There is an additional issue at hand.
And that is what to do with Boniface.
Bringing them into this doesn’t feel like an option. But with their temperament, it’s likely they would leave wherever you left them to follow you anyway. Surely there’s a nice family in one of these towns you can leave them with. You’ve been checking every time, nothing has been a good fit.
Additionally, leaving them behind to be frozen is exactly what their sister didn’t want. But you aren’t sure how to get around that, because it’s more than likely she wouldn’t like you bringing her little sibling to the King either.
There’s no good answer here.
It might be best to ask them what they wish to do. But you have a rather strong hunch as to what their answer will be, regardless of the danger.
Siffrin is one you aren’t sure of bringing as well. Sure, his craft is absurdly strong, but all it would take is one good hit for it to be over. You’ve grown rather fond of them, despite your best efforts, and you don’t think you would handle his loss well. Gems. You barely know these people, and yet here you are, borrowing grief already.
What would your father think.
… Hmm.
You fiddle with one of the gems hanging from your glasses.
It’s likely he would find it funny, but be proud of you for moving on and making friends.
… You miss him.
You smile softly to yourself as you imagine him seeing you now, risking your life to save a country for some people you have barely even met.
He would say something like, “You’ve gone soft.”
And he would be right. You are taking this into your gem. No one will know.
You smirk to yourself with the thought as you sit down to look through your notes.
You’ve been trying to figure out more about Siffrin. And you have quite a bit of evidence compiled.
Firstly, he is an entirely different species to humans, and yet they are sapient. As far as you know, that is unprecedented. In addition to your previous notes, you have found out more about their mysterious craft, though, most of it is inference.
There isn’t much rhyme or reason to it. Firstly, jumping up the bookshelf. Simple, to the point, efficient.
Secondly, there was the disarming of the trap. That one was particularly odd, because all they seemed to do was pick up a rock and throw it, but there was definitely a small shockwave of craft from its impact.
Third, the type reversal craft. That one was particularly odd. You’d never seen anything of the sort before or since.
Finally, that morning. The fact that no one remembered it, and that Siffrin never brought it up. That was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Siffrin had to have been the cause of that, whether inadvertently or not. You’re not sure if this case is related, but it feels as though it must be.
What do these all have in common? The only line you can draw is intent, but that is basic craft theory. Of course craft has intent in common, all craft uses intent.
But this craft seems to bypass the need for experience in something.
Usually, when craft is used, you must know how to accomplish the task you are replicating. Someone can only use healing craft if they know how things heal. Someone can only use body craft if they know how things grow. Someone can only use craft to assist in creation when they know how to create the goal.
Siffrin’s has not worked this way thus far. You ask him how he manages these things, and they shrug. You get the distinct impression they genuinely don’t know how these craft skills work.
Which, once again, would be unprecedented.
It’s as if he only needs the intent to accomplish something that would have required skill, and in doing so is able to bypass the boundaries of normal craft.
It’s… odd. It unsettles you a small amount. It’s unclear how all that works.
And all of this is entirely unrelated to a much more pressing issue involving their nature.
Their history.
As far as you can tell, there is none. You ask him of it, and he never has anything to tell you that has substance. No, the only times you get anything at all are when something related seems to bring up a thought.
One that they will stop in the middle of and then forget that you all were talking at all.
You have documented every case of this you’ve encountered.
The first was that mantra that they repeated. Something along the lines of, “Always have a buddy, keep shelter to your back and the world to your front, and when lost, look to the stars.”
You looked into what stars are, and apparently they’re the dots in the sky at night. How those could possibly be helpful, you haven’t a clue. They’re random as far as you can tell, and there doesn’t seem to be any information to be gleaned from them. Maybe it was some sort of religious belief, you thought.
The more time has gone on, the more evidence you have toward it being something religious.
Siffrin never seems to remember these talks after they have them, and although you aren’t sure, it doesn’t seem as though they’re lying. It’s as if the thought is erased as he is having it.
There have been multiple more cases of these stories, many of them involving stars and “the Universe,” as well as family members.
Although, you can count all of these instances on your hands.
The second case was also to do with stars and “the Universe.” They had said that stars were flaming balls of gas, and that the sun was also a star. Absolutely preposterous, you had thought at the time and called him out for lying to Boniface. Later, upon rereading your entry on the event, it occurred to you that it might have been a religious belief.
You may need to apologize for that soon.
The third instance was something to do with “The Universe leads, and we all follow.” He had said that the Universe was everything, and not in fact an entity with a will. You still don’t think that makes any sense, because if it has no will, how would it lead? Ah, well. Religion is touchy with you anyway.
The fourth was a mention of their parents. Something about them being high ranking officials, or something, but it dropped off there.
The fifth was a mention of a relative dying to a heron. Quite a grim story, even if brief. It was when Boniface made skewers and was watching them prepare them. He had said “Oh, that looks a bit like when that heron got my uncle…”
They did not remember it even mere seconds after they brought it up, for the moment you asked for context, they said they didn’t know what you were talking about.
That was the main one that made you question if he was being deceptive about not remembering these things.
The sixth and final instance, was something about… someone. He had fallen asleep in a small hollow in the tree behind you, and muttered it under his breath. You did not hear much other than “No… don’t eat my fritter… you blinding… oh… s’rry mama…”
You’re not sure what blinding is, but you’ve heard them say it a few times now. Seems to be a curse. Which would make the context of this rather funny if there wasn’t the implication that they may not remember any of it.
Ah, but back to your thought process. Another largely contributing factor is that all of the Vaugardians in your party at least vaguely know what Siffrin is.
If you had to order them in expertise, you would say Mirabelle is the most well versed, then Boniface, then Isabeau.
Isabeau barely knows a thing, while it sounds as though Boniface may have encountered them before but has a foggy memory of it at best, and Mirabelle has actually met others. She called them “fairies,” which was a name that Isabeau recognized, and Boniface denied, though they never offered a substitute.
Maybe they had a different word for them due to placement? Unclear, as of yet.
So, for the time being, fairy it is.
And the fact that they know any of this at all, implies to you that fairies may have lived in Vaugarde more commonly before. Which also means that their belongings may still be here if you look in the right places.
And you believe you might know where the right places are.
All of this to say, you might be able to find Siffrin some dishes.
Gems alive, you have a killer headache all of a sudden. Ah, well. Siffrin’s wellbeing takes priority, you can take some pain killers before you go.
~
Siffrin is tucked safely away behind your collar. It is not the most comfortable of positions, but they refused to hide in a pocket. His tail keeps tickling the side of your neck, and it is making it very difficult to focus.
They whisper, and somehow, despite their size, you manage to hear it. “Where are we going again?”
“It’s a surprise,” you say for the second time. “Think of it as a secret quest.”
You would like to find a familytale while you are here, and you’d rather he didn’t tell the others if you do manage to find one within the antique shop. But at the same time, you thought it’d be best if they picked out their things themself if you did manage to find fairy things.
His tail swishes again, and it takes all of your self control not to jerk at the way it tickles. You’d rather not shake him into the back of your jacket.
The brim of their hat also tickles the other side of your neck, so you’ve been fighting the urge to raise your shoulders this whole trip. Gems, you might try to find him a different hiding place before you go back.
Finally, you arrive inside the antique shop, the bell ringing as you open the door.
“Welcome in!” a rather old man greets.
You give a stiff nod in response and move on to the back of the store as soon as possible. Time is money, as they say.
In the back, you are shocked to find that there are fairy things, and they are even labeled as such. Though, the blurb written beneath seems to think that humans made these things for the fairies, rather than fairies making the items themselves. You’re unsure if that is true at this distance.
There are dishes, utensils (absurdly small and intricate), a few pillows, and even a few paintings. Although, the whole selection could fit in one of your hands. You were awfully lucky to have found this section immediately upon entry.
Giving a glance back and forth and confirming that no one else is here to see him, you whisper to Siffrin, “Here, take a look at these. See if there’s anything you’d like.”
They pause. “No one there?”
“I’ve checked, Siffrin. It’s clear.”
With that, they carefully climb down your sleeve and start looking through the items. You watch for a moment, but quickly turn your gaze outwards again, being sure to watch the aisles. Someone walking up could be catastrophic, especially with a would-be Siffrin murderer on the loose.
One that you still don’t know the appearance of. That is going to bother you until you can confirm that they’re dead.
Suddenly, you feel Siffrin climbing back up your sleeve once more, and you suppress a flinch at them brushing the side of your neck.
You look back at the selection below. There is exactly one plate, one cup, and one set of cutlery missing.
You’re about to ask them to hand the pieces over, so that you can pay for them, but then you realize.
These would be impossibly easy to steal.
If you find a familytale, you will pay for it. But who knows? Maybe these dishes were Siffrin’s to begin with. Who can prove otherwise? You need the money for supplies, anyway.
“Which ones did you select from again?” you ask him under your breath.
You see a tiny hand point in your lower periphery.
Verrrrrrry gently, you take one more of each. Gems alive, they are miniscule, every piece could fit on your thumb at once.
You hand them back to Siffrin.
“I only need the one set.”
“What if they break? Or you lose a piece?”
A pause.
Then an impossibly small weight removed from your hand.
Good.
“I’m going to look in here a bit longer,” you whisper back, then continue your search.
You feel their hat brush your neck once more as they nod.
For about another half hour, you observe the shelves, but your quarry is not within. You can also feel Siffrin starting to slip from their position. He’s getting tired, which, you don’t blame him. You wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up that long.
You glance down every visible aisle once more. “Want to change positions so you’re not at risk of falling?” You keep your voice as quiet as possible.
From last time, they understand that you’ve checked, and they climb out of your collar and down your sleeve once more. Standing on a book of Poterian history, he glances down the aisles as well. Confirming there’s no one coming, he gestures for you to turn around.
You turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder to ensure you don’t miss any more nonverbal signals.
He investigates for any back pockets you may have. You know that you do not have any, and you’re quite sure he’s checked before. They begrudgingly gesture for you to turn back around, and once you do so, they climb into one of your front jacket pockets.
“No hands please.”
You raise your hands in mock surrender. They snort a bit in response.
With that, you nod to the shopkeep and leave without paying.
No one has to know.
You smirk to yourself on the way back to the inn. Probably saved yourself a couple gold there, and got Siffrin some dishes and silverware out of it. As much as you like to support businesses, you’re sure saving Vaugarde will make up for a small bit of necessary thievery.