Her grandfather pointed like an excited kid at any one of the Disneylands.

  Which, to be clear, she hadn’t done in, like, three years.

  “Look! Isn’t that cool!”

  She shrugged.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  To be fair, it was, but that was no reason to show outward excitement like a little kid.

  Riverdel sat in the trees. A village on a raised platform several meters off the ground at its lowest spots. The bulk of it was on top of a small hill with an artificially flattened top from the look of it.

  A large area of cleared ground surrounded the hill. Tall wooden fences surrounded vertical fruit and vegetable gardens that rose up to the roof of a single level Earthian house.

  “Hey, remember our tepuis camping trips?”

  “Grandfather…” she let out a long breath. “Those were mountains! That’s a hill! A small one!”

  “What? It’s similar.”

  “Ugh…”

  Suspension bridges connected the main part of the village to smaller platforms which contained things ranging from bathroom facilities to shooting platforms.

  The longest bridge ran to a large platform on the Delac River bank, which was partially hidden by the trees from where they lurked in the artificially maintained tree line.

  Her grandfather pointed at metal tubes hanging from some parts of the village like vines. They ran a long way through the forest to a spot well downriver of the village.

  “Look poop pipes!”

  Her face twisted in her helmet.

  “Don’t drink or bathe downriver.”

  She knew the basics.

  “Remember the dreaded candiru?”

  She tried not to.

  “How did you olden ones survive before magic and Skills?”

  “Ha! Trick question. The answer is that some of us didn’t survive.”

  “But, that’s how it is now?”

  “Exactly, my precious squire!”

  “Please don’t call me that when people are listening,” she said flatly.

  “Ha! That means I can call you that when people aren’t around.”

  Drat!

  She walked right into that like a sneaky straight right hidden behind a jab.

  “Look! They’re fishing!”

  Nice distraction, Arelle!

  Tiny people in the distance stood on the platform.

  Some handled multiple fishing rods using some kind of force multiplying contraption.

  More used what had to be magic and Skills to launch large nets hundreds of meters up and downriver from the platform.

  It only took minutes for them to begin hauling in their catch.

  “Did you know that fishing like that would totally deplete the fish supply before the spires appeared? Commercial overfishing was a huge problem from what I remember. People even fished whales, which was totally festizio behavior.”

  “I know, Grandfather.”

  “I have to say it’s lucky that there are more animals now and some monsters are actually edible with the right classes.”

  “I know, Grandfather.”

  “There’s this one Japanese fish that—”

  “Grandfather!”

  “My bad!” He grinned.

  They watched in silence like creepy voyeurs as the Riverdel villagers went about their daily business until her grandfather failed.

  “They’re really blue, but it doesn’t look weird like when cosplayers painted themselves blue… cosplayers are—”

  “I know what they are, Grandfather.” She sighed. “People still cosplay, you know?”

  “But not as smurfs.” He pointed out.

  “Smurfs?”

  “Old cartoon from before I was a kid. It’s these little blue people. I’m talking fit in your hand little. They lived in mushroom houses. There was a wizard— human— and a cat. There were a few of them. Different smurfs, kinda like the seven dwarves. There was the dad smurf, the glasses one, the girl one…”

  Her grandfather trailed off for some reason.

  “Grandfather?” she prodded.

  “Yeah, no, it was a weird cartoon. Not that good. What was I saying? Oh, right… blue-skinned people. It looks natural on them. I’m a little disappointed that they don’t look weirder, you know?”

  “I don’t…”

  “Well, their ears aren’t pointed or more bat-like. You’d think evolving in a dense forest land would lend toward better hearing. Same with their eyes. I’d have guessed they’d be bigger with a larger iris for low-light and darkness conditions. At least their toes look spread out like the rainforest tribes back home.”

  “How can you see that? I can’t see. I thought they’re wearing shoes.”

  “They are, but barefoot style ones. Although, that tall one isn’t.”

  Thankfully, her helmet hid her instinctive pout.

  Even with the zoom functions her grandfather’s eyesight beat her.

  It wasn’t the distance that stymied her. It was the size and quickness of the Riverdel villagers movements.

  “Shall we say hello?”

  “Whatever’s fine,” she said maturely with a shrug.

  “Or do you think it’d be better to wait until the moon is out since Bakunawa is the dragon-snake of the moon?”

  “This is way you should be my squire.” She gestured at the yellow sun hanging high in the blue sky. “The moon is just a rock. Moonlight is just reflected sunlight. Therefore, Minokawa should be in charge.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “You’re technically correct, which is the worse kind of correct. Especially for a witch.” He raised a brow. “Isn’t being a witch about the deeper things? Like the feel and conceptual junk? Por ejemplo, Bakunawa is a dragon-snake. Minokawa is a bird-dragon.”

  “So?” she crossed her arms, unimpressed.

  “It’s simple. Dragon beats bird.”

  “Sun beats moon.”

  Checkmate, Grandfather!

  “I’m bigger and older.”

  “So?” she crossed her arms even harder.

  “The Riverdelians will think it weird that Bakunawa is taking orders from Minokawa. They’ll go, like… ‘Why does he take orders from her when he’s bigger. He could simply devour her.’”

  She ignored that which didn’t deserve a response.

  “That’s not what they call themselves.”

  “True, but it will sell our strangers from a faraway land act.”

  She raised a finger and put it back down in the same breath.

  A witch knew when to be stubborn.

  “So? Shall we put our chameleon masks on?”

  She retracted her Minokawa helmet enough to expose her face as she pulled the thin, membranous mask from one of her compartments of holding.

  It went on smoothly as it automatically slide into the perfect position.

  Its presets had been, well, set.

  “On no!”

  “What?”

  “Did I say something wrong, my precious?”

  “No… did you?”

  “I must’ve. What did I say to make you sad?”

  “Sad— oh my Hecate! You’re soooo lame, Grandfather.”

  Her light brown face was now blue.

  What was it with olden male relatives that had, coincidentally made them turn into lame-o’s the minute she had turned twelve?

  Her dad, her grandfather, everyone!

  “Get it? Cause you’re blue!”

  “I got it!” she snapped maturely.

  He held up his hands.

  “Sorry, had to do it.”

  No, he did not.

  “Okay, how’s my sad face?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Awesome! What else do we need?”

  “Gifts?”

  He held up a bag of holding.

  “Gear, sweets and Nadras beverages. That brewmaster might be good, but she’s got nothing on the my old buddy, the troll king of small and big batch brewing.”

  “Maps?”

  She dug a hand into her bag of holding and knew they were there.

  Her grandfather did the same.

  “Check!”

  “Oh! Weapons!”

  She almost forgot on account of them not being all that important to her.

  She belted a one-handed enchanted mythril sword around her waist. She pulled her extra heavy poleaxe out and leaned it against the tree. Lastly, a quiver of javelins went on her back.

  Her grandfather pulled out a long-handled warhammer with an over-sized head and added a one-handed sword with a Bakunawa motif, just like her Minokawa-styled weapons.

  …

  They strode up a long, gentle-sloped ramp leading up to Riverdel’s main gate.

  Arellian led the way several meters ahead of her grandfather.

  Poleaxe in one hand like a walking stick, but the other held out open to side, she announced with a voice purposefully distorted by her helmet to disguise her natural one.

  “Hear ye! Hear ye! Good and peaceful people of Riverdel! I am Witchknight Minokawa, squire to Knight Bakunawa! We bring gifts from the Witch of the Woods!”

  The blue-skinned folk of peaceful Riverdel stood on their ramparts aiming weapons down at her and her grandfather.

  Mostly crossbows, a few bows and even one primitive gun.

  A large panel opened near the base of the huge, iron-shod doors to reveal the black depths of a large cannon’s maw prepared to greet them.

  “That’s far enough!” an old man with a bushy white beard wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat barked.

  Her grandfather snorted through the comms.

  “Papa Smurf!”

  Naturally, she ignored him.

  She had an important role to play.

  “One more step and we fire!”

  She dropped her poleaxe with a thud that shook the wooden ramp.

  Eyes widened at that.

  She pulled a five kilogram bag of beef jerky from her bag of holding and floated it slowly up to the village headman using the gravity projector in her armor.

  Half the weapons and bare hands tracked the bag while the other half remained aimed at her and her grandfather.

  “The Witch’s generosity. We have more.”

  The old man snatched the beef jerky bag and disappeared behind the wall.

  She studied the people of Riverdel.

  They all had hungry eyes.

  It didn’t take a lot of observing to realize that the people of Riverdel weren’t exactly living with a food surplus. Or rather, what they got took a lot of effort.

  There wasn’t a fat person in sight.

  Every person was thin and wiry.

  “You notice it?”

  She switched to comms only.

  “There isn’t a lot of olden people. A lot of young people. Half the shooters look like they’re around my age or more.”

  “Yup. Lines up with Vamria’s census. Although, it’s a bit tough to tell because they’re so short and smol. I’m, like, the tallest person here by at least a head.”

  Yes. It did do wonders for her confidence to see up close that she was amongst the largest physical specimens among the people of Riverdel.

  “How long do we wait?”

  “Give it five minutes. I’m sure they’re testing the jerky for poison and such.”

  About five minutes later…

  “We thank you for the gift. Now, you better move on. We aren’t in the habit of letting in strangers. Let alone well-armed ones. The only thing more dangerous than the monsters are bandits and cursed classers,” the village headman said.

  “Better up your ante.”

  What was an ante?

  Arellian took out the next sample items from the bag of holding.

  She floated two black cases up to the top of the wall.

  “Enchanted arrows and bolts.”

  Another case.

  “Potions. Health, mana and stamina.”

  Yet another.

  “Magic crystals and gems.”

  Lastly, a book.

  “For beginners. It will teach you the spells through the simple act of reading.”

  Wide eyes grew wider with each gift until they narrowed again in suspicion.

  Too good to be true was a constant across the spires worlds.

  It begged the question, what did one have to give in exchange.

  Thus, the village headman asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “You may have more gifts if you graciously open your gates and allow us two days and nights to speak to the whole village. And perhaps, if you’re willing, a great opportunity for you. Are there terrible monsters in the area that need slaying? We shall slay them without cost to you. Bandits? We shall defeat them and bring them to justice.”

  “Yeah, no way you’re getting involved with killing sapients unless you have no choice,” her grandfather muttered in her ears. “Nope. Not letting that happen. No chance.”

  “Cursed classes? None can withstand the might of the sun and moon.”

  “Uh, don’t you mean the moon and then the sun?”

  Like in any negotiation one needed to either give the person what they wanted or keep it away from them to get them to where one wanted them to walk.

  Such was the witch ways of the deal.

  “If you find none of this to your liking then we shall bid you good day and move to the next village.”

  Eyes darted to the village headman.

  He grimaced.

  She could see the war in his head written on his face.

  Was the bounty she offered worth the risk that they wouldn’t kill everyone or worse after they opened the doors? If they could do that, then would turning them away make a difference?

  With that level of power the walls and weapons wouldn’t protect them anyways.

  “You will surrender your weapons.”

  “Our armor stays on.”

  The village headman agonized over that before finally nodding curtly.

  The doors slid open with a groan of thick chains and muscle power.

  Minokawa and Bakunawa entered Riverdel.