Chapter 8: Girl, Has Nightmare

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Girl, Has Nightmare

 

“COME right on in. Don’t mind the mess.”

Determining it was only a waste of breath to complain after Sylmia left, Nichika followed Lambert to the workshop downstairs.

She couldn’t tell from the outside that Sylmia’s house had been built on a slope, and although the workshop was underground, bright sunlight shined through the large windows, warmly illuminating the generous space. Brooms of varying shapes and sizes hung on the walls, and the smell of freshly cut wood filled the air. Nichika closed her eyes and deeply inhaled that woody scent.

“Smells so good…”

“Brooms are whittled down and adjusted here,” Lambert explained. “Now where’d that measuring tape go?”

“Didn’t know you had a hobby like this,” Oswald remarked, entering the room a few steps behind them.

Lambert sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “I couldn’t mention it at school. You know how it is. Outside this village everyone thinks it’s taboo for men to mount a broom.”

He grabbed the measuring tape off an old desk and began taking Nichika’s measurements. Height, shoulder width, arm length, the distance from her wrist to her fingertips. Nodding to himself, he wrote down the numbers.

“I can whittle off a huge chunk for someone of your size,” he cheerfully told her. “You can look forward to bein’ a lightweight competitor. Ah, but if I take too much off, you’ll lose strength and durability for what you gain in speed…so this part of the broom has to go like this and this has to be done this way.”

Craftsman Lambert marked up the broom received from Sylmia with black charcoal. Nichika’s cheeks dimpled at the first real signs of fun he seemed to be having since they met. Not wanting to disturb him, she waited for him to stand from the desk before speaking.

“You really love it don’t you. Adjusting brooms.”

“Hm? Mm, you think so?” He sounded uncertain, like he had never really thought about it. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

Lambert fetched a saw from the cabinet and started the adjustments by cutting down the excessive handle and shaft length. He proceeded to remove the brush bristle in accordance to the changes he made to the length.

“It’s been my hobby for Spirits knows how long. Guess ya could say fiddlin’ with it for fun gave me a knack for it,” he explained, his hands going about the work without second-guessing his next move. “Just hope my intuition for these things hasn’t changed since I last took on a project like this.”

“Are there rules for what changes you can and can’t make?” she asked, running her fingers along one of the beautifully carved brooms on the wall.

“Absolutely,” he answered while carrying over several different types of wood file tools and rasps. “First of all, the broom must be the exact model specified by the tournament committee. You’re free to whittle it down as much as you like, but ya can’t add anything extra. Contestants are riding on the wind, so the key is to reduce weight as much as possible with the rider’s size in mind, but take it too far and you’ll weaken the frame so much it could snap on you like a twig. You’ve also gotta take wind resistance into account too.”

He prepared the general shape by shaving down the wood with a rough rasp. The texture gradually changed until the surface smoothed out.

“Oh and wind mana love all things beautiful, so the prettier the broom, the more of a speed boost they’ll give ya.”

Lambert chiseled a gorgeous design into the wood without drawing up a sketch first. Nichika was fascinated by his magical handiwork.

“Wow! You’re amazing, Lam! You could do this for a living!”

A faint smile touched Lambert’s lips at the way her eyes shined over his detailed openwork. Meanwhile, Oswald watched him work over his shoulder and pulled something from his pocket.

“Have anywhere to put this?”

“…What’s that?” Nichika asked, her distrust on full display for the black tubular object in his hand.

“Can’t you tell? It’s a booster,” he answered with a straight face. “It absorbs wind and fire mana to create explosive propulsion power.”

“Weren’t you listening?! Lam just said that adding anything extra is against the rules!”

“This thing is seriously amazing. I pointed the nozzle toward a rock wall during the test phase and it erased everything behind me when I took off.”

“Don’t make your apprentice race with such a dangerous object!” she shot him down as usual. This time, though, it actually upset him.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue. “Think you’re in a position to follow the rules? Your journey ends here and now if you don’t win tomorrow’s race.”

“Th-That’s…”

Nichika didn’t know what to say when he thrust reality upon her. If he outright asked if she was confident she could win, the honest answer was no. That being said, she didn’t want to cheat. She hung her head and muttered under her breath.

“I’ll never be able to forgive myself later if I win by cheating.”

Oswald sighed and turned his back to her. “Still playing the heroine after all we’ve been through? Go ahead and do it fair and square. Just don’t come whining to me later.”

With those final stinging words, he left the workshop.

“…Did I make him angry?” she asked sullenly after he’d gone.

“Beats me. But I think my upperclassman there might’ve been lookin’ out for you in his own way.”

She felt a little guilty after hearing that. I’ll apologize when he comes back.

But Oswald didn’t show up even after the day gave way to late night.

***

“I think I might’ve ticked him off for real…”

A gloomy cloud hung over the girl sitting in the corner of the workshop hugging her knees. Grumbled complaint after complaint exposed her emotional turmoil.

“I know I’m being overly optimistic, even for me, but I feel like I’ll just be dragging Goddess Yuna’s name through the mud if I attain victory by cheating.”

Lambert clearly heard her mumbles while he was making the final adjustments to her broom and gave his opinion without looking at her. “Naw, you’re better off not cheatin’. Sylmia hates cheaters.”

He placed the broom on his shoulder and thrust it forward, squinting to make sure the handle wasn’t bent.

“By the way, can I ask? You and Lord Sylmia aren’t…father and son, are you?”

“Not by blood. I used to be an orphan, and now I’m his adopted child,” he answered in his usual laid-back way. Her heart dropped.

Fidgeting with the uncomfortable mood she’d caused, she timidly apologized. “Um…I’m sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizin’? I couldn’t care less ’bout that kinda thing.”

He looked at her and laughed without a care. He lifted the accessory hanging from a leather strap at his chest and lowered his eyes to the distorted silver motif there.

“By the time I’d become self-aware, I was livin’ in a filthy back alley. This is the only clue I’ve got, but I’ve never stopped believing I’ll find my birth parents someday.”

“I see…”

Grinning to lighten the mood, he placed the broom on the desk and popped his stiff shoulders.

“But maaaan, I had it rough at the time. I was living in a place called Shasta that’s far to the south from here. Pickpocketin’ was ’bout the only way for a snot-nosed brat to survive.”

“Ah, umm, that…” That must’ve been tough. Nichika couldn’t say something so unsympathetic, so she panicked as she searched for the right thing to say.

She was so easy to read, Lambert could barely contain his laughter. “You either say exactly what’s on your mind or can’t say anything at all, huh?”

“Ugh. I have good reason for that…” She had come to watch her words since Oswald made a fool of her every time she spoke without thinking. Pushing her fingers together, she turned her gaze out the window. “I can’t say I understand your pain.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s the right choice. This pain is mine alone.”

“But I can be on your side and encourage you. Let me know if there is ever anything I can help you with!”

Lambert quietly gasped and then, for some reason, flashed a sarcastic smirk. “…You mean it?”

“…?”

Of course she meant it. What he did in the past was water under the bridge now that he was helping her. She wanted to return the favor.

“Is it more troublesome to have someone worthless like me helping you?” she quietly asked, gazing up at him from under her lashes.

“Naw, I’m thrilled by the offer. Really.” Keeping his eyes from meeting hers, he forced them back to the original topic. “Ah, right, you wanted to know how I got adopted, yeah? Wind magic has been my only real talent for forever now. Sylmia saw potential in me and took me in. Said he’s gonna make me his successor.”

“Wait, does that mean you will become the Great Wind Spirit someday? Humans can become spirits?”

Nichika was stunned by that unexpected tidbit. She’d been completely under the impression that the Great Spirits were either born that way or were chosen among powerful magic spirits.

Lambert brought over a polishing cloth and began rubbing varnish on the broom. “There are several types of spirits: those who are formed by a group of mana coalescing into one body, ritualistic items that’ve been worshiped for centuries gaining sentience, a soul with an unbending will to live ascending after death, and so on. Sylmia ascended after death. I heard he was originally a bird that nested in this area.”

“A bird…?”

He must have been a strikingly colored and extremely attractive bird. As Nichika started imagining what bird he was, Lambert picked up a different file and worked on the other side.

“Anyways, it’s late. Tomorrow’s the real deal and you won’t have time to practice. Get to sleep and recover what little stamina ya can.”

Sure enough, it was so late the date was about to change. The village lights beyond the window were flicking off one by one. But Nichika was reluctant to leave.

“But you’re not done—”

“I’ll handle the rest. Or what? Uneasy leavin’ it in my untrustworthy hands?” He threw the same line back at her.

Smiling wryly, she shook her head. This was as good a time as ever to leave it to him.

“I guess I’ll go ahead and get some shuteye.”

“Use the room at the far end of the second story. The washroom is right across from it.”

“Thanks. Goodnight,” she said softly and left the room. She tilted her head outside the door. “Huh?”

Lambert had been acting strange ever since they arrived in this village. She assumed he wasn’t misbehaving because his adoptive father was around, but that didn’t explain why he wouldn’t look her in the eye and stared uncomfortably at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Is he worried I’ll embarrass him in front of everyone? Ugh, that’s likely…

Coming to that conclusion, she decided to hit the sack like he suggested and hopefully decrease the odds of an epically embarrassing loss by even a little.

***

THE young man who remained in the workshop stared at the broom in his hand with a tormented expression. Adjustments were almost complete. Even the special adjustment.

“Heeeh, so that’s the trick?”

Lambert whirled toward the young voice that suddenly spoke behind him. When did he get there? A boy hidden under a white hood poked the brooms on the wall and watched them swish. He should’ve been an unexpected and uninvited visitor, but Lambert answered him without question, guarded as he was.

“I didn’t leave anythin’ out.”

“Cool. Show me.”

At the boy’s request, Lambert slid his finger through the air, activating the seal carved into the broom. Green light coursed through the surface of the handle, cleanly breaking it into several pieces that clattered on the hardwood floor.

“The broom will fall apart during tomorrow’s race at a single command from me,” the two-timing culprit stated without inflection over the clattering wood, his face blank.

“Fabulous! All this just for the small price of—”

A sharp whittling knife came within an inch of Phantom’s throat, ending his teasing. Lambert’s narrowed eyes glinted sharper than the blade, an unspoken threat that he’d cut anyone who got on his bad side.

“You will pay me my due, yeah?”

“Oh! So scary-wary! I was gonna pay you in full without the scare tactics.”

Something appeared in front of the boy who raised his hands in surrender. It was an accessory very similar to the one hanging from Lambert’s chest. Phantom curled his fingers around the leather strap and confirmed the contents of their deal.

“A clue on your birth parents, was it? Finish off that annoying Spirit Priestess and I’ll tell you what I now.”

“Hmph,” Lambert snorted and pocketed the knife.

Phantom watched him with amusement and pushed his buttons for the heck of it. “Though I’ve gotta hand it to you, you surprised me with how easily you turned on her. I made the right choice striking up a bargain with you in that foggy valley or whatever you people call it.”

When Lambert awoke in Fog Valley, the first thing he saw was this boy cloaked in a white robe sitting on the rock above him. The boy introduced himself as Phantom and said just the right things to wheedle his way past Lambert’s wariness.

“You pretend to be friendly, all the while keeping company with some nasty, dark emotions under that mask. How do I know? Because I’m cut from the same filthy cloth.”

The strangely compassionate Phantom somehow knew about Lambert’s desire to find his parents. And he glibly offered him an irresistible deal.

Clenching the leather strap at his chest, Lambert told himself, This is a risky bet, but even so…I…

Spying his hesitance, Phantom’s lips curved into a sly smile under the hood. “Tell me one more time. What is it you desire?”

Lambert lifted his head. Insanity and hatred flared in those snakelike yellow eyes.

“I’m going to skunk out my parents—and slaughter them.”

Nichika had arbitrarily imagined him having this emotional reunion with his parents, but she was so off from the truth it was laughable. Truth was, he had a vague memory of the time he was tossed aside. His old man punched him, kicked him, and spat on him, then threw him out of the moving wagon. That humiliation was still vividly etched into his memory to this day. His mother looked scornfully down on him when he reached out to her for help. It was then, in those young days where he was driven to the brink of despair, that Lambert made an oath.

“My life will finally begin once I get my revenge on them. The Wind Spirit can rot in hell. Got nothin’ to do with me. Everything exists only as a tool to prolong my life.”

Phantom trembled in the pleasing negative emotions oozing from him. Now he was going to be a useful tool, just like the reports said.

“Go ahead and convert your negative feelings into dark mana,” he whispered sweetly, pressing a fist-sized magic crystal against the back of Lambert’s hand. The light-gray ore instantly turned a suspicious purple. A satisfied smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Jealousy? Nicely made.”

The boy melted into the background. Was he still partially there? Only his voice that reminded Lambert of wind chimes remained.

“Take care of the rest as we discussed. I’ll plant this magic crystal. Knock that priestess outta the sky right before the goal line.”

“I will.”

“See ya later.”

At last Phantom had completely disappeared. Left behind, Lambert shook his head and plastered a smile on his face. The bright and friendly voice of “Lam” resonated in the workshop.

“Now then, I better finish up this adjustment lickety-split and hit the hay.”

Only his dead eyes betrayed the smile on his lips.

“Or else I won’t see my parents.”

 

***

NICHIKA was flying. She soared comfortably over Windy Village with Lambert’s specially made broom.

Hey, I’ve got this in the bag flying this well!

Now she didn’t have to worry about embarrassing anyone during the race. She could rapidly ascend, dive, make sharp turns, and even pull off acrobatic flips in the air! She was so happy she was humming—but then she heard a disturbing snap.

“Wha?”

A second after she started to worry, the broom under her vanished. She fell upside down.

“No way! Noooooo! Why?!”

The ground rapidly approached her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and—

THWUMP!

“—!”

A jolt to her back shocked her awake. The sunlight streaming through the windows and chirping birds informed her of reality. She hadn’t fallen from her broom but the top of her bed.

“What an ominous dream…”

Of all the days to have this nightmare, it had to be today? Clasping a hand to her catapulting heart, she got a hold of herself and washed her face. She descended the stairs and saw a head of green hair sleeping face down on the parlor table.

How late did Lam stay up to help me?

She tiptoed past him into the next room.

 

 

***

LAMBERT, who worked on the broom until dawn, woke up to a mouthwatering smell. Drowsy, he sat up and stretched like a cat. Nichika walked in from the adjacent kitchen and casually greeted him.

“Good morning. I borrowed the kitchen. Sorry for not asking first.”

A white plate was placed in front of him. A hot fried egg with the yolk melted to perfection jiggled on top of crisply toasted bread. The girl sat down across from him with another plate and dipped her head in apology.

“I’ll go out and replace the ingredients I used later.”

“Naw, you don’t have to. Food’ll only rot with just me and Sylmia ’round.”

Lambert picked up the toast wondering how long it’d been since he last ate breakfast. He was astonished there were even edible ingredients in the house. That Wind Spirit doesn’t cook. Heck he doesn’t even need to eat.

“Let’s eat! Mmmm! I’m in heaven! Eating bread fresh out of the oven is hands down the best thing ever!”

Mixed feelings stirred within Lambert as he watched the girl blissfully chomp on her breakfast. Throwing his fake smile back in place, he handed her the broom leaning against the wall.

“Here ya go. Thanks for waitin’.”

“Yay! Thanks a bunch. Wow, it’s even lighter than it was yesterday.”

“Yep. I’m proud to say it’s my best work to date.”

So is my addition, he added mentally.

Utterly unaware of what he’d done, Nichika beamed at him. “Really, thank you so, so much, Lam. I might even win thanks to you!”

Her innocent gratitude pricked at his chest. He was shocked to learn he still had a heart, but he shoved it under the rug and suggested, “Go show it off to my grumpy buddy. That grumpster didn’t return until three in the mornin’.”

“That late?! What in the world was he doing? For goodness’ sake.”

“This and that, I’m sure. You know how pent up his frustration is.”

“Whaaa?!”

Just a little baiting sent the girl storming from the room as planned. Relief settled over him as he munched on the egg toast.

It was delicious by all accounts, but a bitter taste spread through him nevertheless.