True there may be less risk being spotted in a smaller village, but averting it altogether led no risk. Not to mention a total lack of benefits associated with going. With Ria swaying back and forth, from behind Imira recognized her as a landmine ready to blow up in their faces at any moment.

As they marched towards the town without hesitation, Imira wondered if Alric was fully aware of the danger they would be in. It appeared as though they might be undone by a light shower or simple spill, and as liberally as her birthplace followed the teachings of the Patriarch, even Pan did not reveal the full truth of Ria’s affliction to them.

While common folk wouldn't be able to overpower him, Alric did not even plan to silence them in the event of their discovery. He told her ‘when things go south, it’s okay to run away’. No attention paid to the repercussions of leaving loose ends, just taking actions that would satisfy him.

As much as Alric made sure to point out how all his plans were calculated, at the end of the day, they were made without regard to the possible consequences. Imira had trouble with the concept, though she still knew there was something wrong about Alric’s plan. Maybe not in their execution, but whenever the mage began to do something strange, she found herself longing for the spear which was becoming more and more familiar to her.

Imira’s hands clenched at nothing during their approach, as Alric kept the spear stowed away during their approach. Unlike members of the Church and travelers with rougher personalities, he did not seem to think approaching with their weapons visible would be in good form. Pre-empting her point about showing off that they would put up a fight if necessary, Alric chose a route that not only made them less threatening and demure; it appeared to be almost intentionally provocative to those that wished them trouble.

Tensing as they passed alongside surprisingly vacant fields, Imira cast her gaze from side to side trying to spot anything unusual. Homes tightly aligned along the roads, made it difficult to spot anything off the path straight ahead, which did not cut through the whole town, but terminated at another building.

Reaching one of the buildings, Alric suddenly hailed a rough looking farmer, almost before seeing him. Slinking forward from the side of the house in a manner that spoke ill of his character, he was momentarily disarmed by the chipper greeting.

Many years passed since she’d seen it, but the farmer wore an expression from Salt Village’s harsher days. Though the situation of the place was far better than her own hometown, desperate times were a relative measure. For her, the leering gaze was enough to signal malicious intent, as cowardly as it might be.

Upon suggesting they take the horse around back, Imira had no doubt he, or perhaps some shadowy conspirators were horse thieves. One would think that a little more would be done if they expected to get away with it, but the trio was in a foreign area and Alric was acting like the amicable fool once again.

For a moment it seemed that the mate was baiting them, until he suddenly made up an excuse to lead the horse himself, tacitly implying he knew what they were up to, but was still giving them a chance.

“Lucy, watch over area while I take him out to the field.”

And rather than use her actual name, Alric used pseudonyms planned out beforehand. Imira didn’t see how that would help, particularly since Ria was called ‘Rea’; considering the way he grinned when giving them out, it was definitely another one of his jokes that no one understood.

But after that moment of displeasure, it sunk in that Alric intended for her to stay behind with Ria. Even if only for a moment, he certainly recognized the potential danger for the two of them.

Helping Ria down, and watching as Imira dismounted, he more or less saddled the horse in a single half step, half hop. The shady farmer stared vacantly towards the mage, unable to tell what he was dealing with. Making use of the addled state, Alric conjured Imira’s spear and lobbed it at her sideways.

Her own shock did not impede her movements, through relentless training being able to hold onto a weapon was the least expected of Imira. That did not stop her jaw from opening in surprise. Was this a test then? In case they were attacked, it would be up to her to defend them?

Considering the peasant carried nothing, perhaps such a situation wouldn’t come to pass—then again, Imira didn’t quite strike an imposing stance even after adjusting her grip.

“Well, there’s no need for that…” His words trailing off, the farmer weakly spoke in the direction of Alric’s departure. “Why don't we step inside until he returns? You can set your weapon and goods down inside, there's no need to worry about any beasts here.”

Speaking more hesitantly, Imira reevaluated their host and the surroundings. Perhaps Alric’s strangely domineering deference put any notions of hostility out of his mind. However the intensity of her gaze did not diminish as he lifted the bags that had been carelessly tossed from the horse.

The farmer opened the door, and as he was stepping inside Imira’s attention shifted to Ria. Weakly staggering forward with her arm on the wall for support, she appeared to be moving subconsciously. Just stepping through the threshold of the house out of the younger girl’s sight represented a huge improvement in her physical state.

Gravel crunched softly under the butt of the spear as Imira twisted it forcefully upon the ground. She needed more time to think, rushing in could lead to disaster. There were all sorts of ways things could play out against her; the farmer could be preparing an ambush, and spears were at a disadvantage indoors; it could be a ploy to put on a kind facade and drug them; maybe there was a contingency to try and take out Alric, and this was all just a way to buy time while gauging his strength.

She didn't stop worrying at that, though told to protect Ria, she was just as worried about the cursed girl. Perhaps after sinking her teeth into the peasant inside and draining him of his blood her strength would be regained and find herself fortified by some dark power.

It may not have had any basis, but so much happened outside her understanding. It could not be said definitively that such things could not happen. Dying to something from out of left field just because it seemed improbable—it was unacceptable to meet her end before even beginning her journey.

Yet the only reason Imira stood there in the first place was due to the grace of Alric. As much unease as he generated, his continued tutelage seemed promise a future where she could do as she wished. The question remained if he accurately assessed the dangers of her current situation.

Seconds gradually passed, as the indecisive girl stood outside with a stony expression.

Making her decision, Imira strode inside, spear raised so pivoting would not be as difficult. Wary, she paid attention to the walls that would constrain her, quietly darting from one barren room to the next.

Though more prosperous than Salt Village, and the home objectively of better make, there still were not many rooms. Weapon gripped tightly, Imira only stalked through the house a few moments before coming upon the farmer peacefully sitting on a stool, with Ria slumping across a long wooden bench, trying to prop herself upon the wall.

“Would—you stop that, Lucy was it? There's no reason to have that out.” Changing tone several times, the farmer was taken aback before making a halfhearted attempt to chastise her. Though he fidgeted slightly at that sight of the spear, he did not act too unnerved, just slightly ill at ease from the little girl’s strange course of action.

Imira stepped out of her combative stance, despite some misgivings. Raising the spear upright to use as a walking stick, she leaned slightly upon it instead of deciding to sit down.

An awkward silence held for a short while, for Ria had drifted asleep and the farmer did not recognize Imira as someone with the authority to negotiate. It took a bit of time for his mind to come up with the idea to try and begin his sales pitch early to have an easier time of it when Alric returned.

“To be off on a lengthy journey at such a young age must be rough. It can't be easy traveling between cities for your sister. Has there been anything you've been particularly desirous of on the road?”

“Kazuma has done everything to keep...my sister and I comfortable. His choices are already in our best interest, and I don't seek to disrupt that.” Imira curtly shut down the incoming saccharine sales pitch. However the farmer found it much easier to recover against her sensible rebuke.

“Kazuma...that’s a strange name—but he does seem like quite a kind fellow. I'm sure if there's anything you'd like, he'd happily accommodate for it. Even if you do have trust in him, he can't read minds. So why don't you just ask and I'll be sure to present it to him when he gets back? It’s getting colder out, I have a lovely scarf that can keep you warm. Or if the trip gets dull at times, I’ve a click-clack toy from when I was a boy; the wood’s a bit worn, but other than that it's in excellent condition.”

“He is a strange person, but I doubt he will be interested at looking at trinkets before acquiring our necessities.” Imira ended up lightly knocking the end of the spear against the ground to emphasize her point. The farmer straightened up a little at the thud, before slumping a bit as he let out a long sigh.

“If you're really so set on it…” Resigned, with Imira shutting down any conversation, he stopped talking. Unsure of what to do in the intervening time, he glanced around his home averting his eye contact, slightly regretful of his choice.

Imira felt much the same way. The furniture that decorated the room exemplified a comfortable state of living despite the simplicity, but also lacked anything that would suggest there would be anything worth trading for. Being able to sit them all comfortably remain spacious already surpassed many dwellings of Salt Village, but she was not impressed. Besides, it wasn't as if they looked to rent a room, or purchase a bench.

Aside from Ria, who slept soundly on the bench, a restless atmosphere built up. As her guard lowered, a sound suddenly came from behind Imira, and though she quickly turned around and took a step back, she quickly found her spear no longer in her hands.

“Being on guard is good, but don't stab everyone that surprises you. People don't take kindly to that sort of thing, especially when it's you who wasn't paying attention.” Alric popped into the doorway in a ghostly manner, twirling the spear about in one hand. Arcing in a strange pattern to avoid hitting anything, all of a sudden he tossed it out of sight. He started talking again immediately, but Imira didn't notice a clatter, so she suspected it all a diversion to stow it away in the magical space. “Apologies for taking so long, but *Sparky* made an attempt to follow me back. Silly horse has a hard time without me. Now why don't we head straight to business? First off, I'd like some information on where we can acquire a cart. Riding on the back of *Sparky* can be a bit rough on Rea and Lucy. No particular specifications to it, one used would be fine, but I believe even a new one is not out of range of our budget.”

“Oh? Oh! A cart hmm…” There was every reason to be surprised, carts were not the most complicated items, but one of standard craftsmanship would be rather expensive. Salt Village only possessed two that were in rather ill repair to be shared among the community, and given their distance from the capital they were in need of such transport the most.

“It's not that I don't have a cart, actually managed to recently sell my last crop of vegetables. But there's no way I can know if can get another in time for the next harvest. I might be able to sell a bit to the others around here, but those cutthroats would never give a decent price. The village carpenter is as slow going as a tree, so I really don't think I can take the risk.”

Imira couldn't help but lightly tsk at the solemn shake of the head that followed. If he hadn't wished to sell it, the matter wouldn't have been mentioned at all, instead he wanted to raise the price by whatever he could. She didn't know how much money Alric had, but she doubted there would be much afterward unless he started bartering aggressively in his favor.

Hopefully despite his lack of common sense, the mage would instinctively haggle down.

“Oh I'd hate to put you in such a position! I'll buy it for 150 argent.”

“What!” Imira called out, and upon hearing the price the farmer broke into a coughing fit. The greed building up in his eyes was once again overturned as easily as a pebble beneath Alric’s feet.

It was doing an excellent job keeping the villein off balance, but it certainly wasn't inconspicuous nor did it appear to be helping them in any way. How did he even accumulate that much money in the first place?

Metallic clinging sounded out as a stream of silver poured onto a table near the side of the room, showing the amount was not merely a bluff. Falling into a mountain, and gleaming with the light of the fire, Alric grinned.

“I happened to encounter a pack of goblins once, and they carried a good deal of treasure. So long as you have what we need, you will be amply compensated.”

Something that sounded like a half-truth came from Alric’s mouth, but the farmer’s mind had glazed over and clasped his hands as lowered his head as if in the presence of some deity of fortune.

“Whatever it is you need, I will happily provide!”

An hour or two passed with the strangest of any mercantile dealings that ever occurred. Imira watched as the buyer offered a price much higher than necessary, the seller would offer more goods, then the buyer would add slightly more coin to the deal as well. Most of the dealing was done over a rich feast, something thankfully neither fish nor chikan. But even though she wished to interject, money came without end from Alric’s pockets and into the grateful hands of their host Morse.

Somehow at the end of their short lived meeting, the farmer seemed almost in tears to see them about to head off.

“It's getting rather late Kazuma, why don't you, Rea, and Lucy stay the night? I'm sure the hearth will be much brighter than any flame along the road.”

“The Patriarch bless you for such an offer, but we must go. My dear will not be cured merely by resting in a cozy home. You've already done us enough kindness by giving us your cart. Take care, and may we cross paths again!” With an exaggerated wave from the front seat, Alric proceeded to spur the horse onward.

Imira caught the edge of the cart as it lurched. If not for the bags and newly acquired pile of canvas, Ria who lay across from her would have likely suffered a head injury. The driver didn't seem to mind, and seemed focused on making sure their horse kept up a solid canter.

“Why are,” her teeth clacked sharply as they ran over a divot in the road. “Why so eager to get away, when the two of you got along so well?”

“Oh little girl,” The mage laughed from the front. “Perhaps I need to spend time teaching you some less savory tactics.

“Buying the cart for an exceptional price was quite good for him. Perhaps the hides as well. But when he wakes up in the morning and begins to go about his day, I believe he will be less than pleased to find he has only furniture and coin left to his name.”