Book buying was... unsuccessful.
There were already very limited places to purchase books in Endsham due to the overwhelming popularity of the Library. Most book sellers would do their business with the Library as an intermediary, instead of selling to customers.
Part of that was the promise of comission when someone requested to copy a book instead of just renting it. It was less money than selling a full book, of course, but allowed for a continued income that could be collected every Harvest, when the sellers returned to sell new books and fresh transcriptions of their works.
Welt crouched to the ground - they'd somehow ended up near the Barrack again. Along the left alley, he kicked a stone in the wall twice while sighing. The stone was dislodged at a slight angle.
"I've heard they're moving away from this all in the East."
"From what? Barracks? We definitely have them!"
"No, reading. Books. That stuff."
"Oh? Well, there's been a push for it. Nobody I know has been affected by it, but there is definitely stricter control over the flow of information now."
"I take it you're from the East?"
"Mhm! Overrated, honestly. Better than here, for sure, but not the rich paradise you Farmers seem to think it is."
Welt fiddled with the dislodged stone a bit, using the Blink Stick, which he had inconspicuously tossed in the same alley earlier in the day, to pry at it more.
"If you do anything you're not meant to... do it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Like The Oathsome holding back Monsters, or The Slabs constructing their Bridge."
A pungent smell broke free of the stones and into the alley. Blood, bones, lavendar, and Gahan.
Imperceptible to Ira, surely, but unmistakable to Welt.
Ira looked down at Welt with an aloof expression. She didn't seeem to take much notice of what he was doing, and didn't care to ask him why.
Makes things easier.
Welt had learned that he was horrendous at lying earlier, he'd rather not attempt to come up with an excuse for his actions again.
"Wanna fight?"
...
"No. Not particularly."
"Boo. Come on, we're gonna fight."
"No. I really am busy today, I've got to-"
"Yeah, yeah. You've been hovering around this place for the past few days, and have plans or whatever. I wont press you about it, but I want to fight, and learn how a Monster Hunter sees the world."
FIGHT.
Welt's eyes widened, staring at the Barrack wall in silence.
FIGHT. FUN.
No... It's back?
"Where have you been!? Huh!?"
Welt shouted around him.
FIGHT.
"Are you okay, Welt?"
He stood up, kicking some dirt up and walking out of the alley.
"Sorry. I really shouldn't fight, I am busy."
FIGHT.
FIGHT. STRONG. FUN.
FUN.
Ira grabbed Welt's arm tightly at the elbow, and slid her own arm up into the hold, locking their joints together. She started pulling him along the street to a place he was unsure of.
"Ira."
...
YES.
FUN.
Welt sighed with immense frustration, and in defiance, let his feet hang to the ground.
Telling me what to do. Fucking voice.
Ira didn't slow down much from Welt's lack of cooperation, and he was dragged along the cobbles like a child throwing a tantrum.
Assessing what he was doing, Welt realized he was pretty much throwing a tantrum.
Embarassed, but committed to his defiance, he hid his face in his curled bangs somewhat, and remained difficult.
The pair got a lot of looks and chuckles as Welt was pulled through Endsham, towards to Northern Gates.
YES.
GIRL.
FIGHT. FUN.
The voice continued to whisper joyfully on the strong winds as they travelled.
***
Welt shifted somewhat uncomfortably, watching as Ira stretched and prepared for their spar.
Her coat had come off, and her sleeves were rolled up. The tough leather-made uniform she wore clung to her body, padding and shielding it from and basic sword slashes. It would most likely disperse blunt force quite well, also.
Piercing the leather was probably the best chance to deal some serious damage to her. But, Welt didn't want to do serious damage. He was still frustrated at the day's sudden turn, but decided it was a good chance to slip the figure that was following them through the morning.
Sure enough, the presence didn't follow them beyond the city walls. Was it bound there, like a spirit? Or, maybe it just couldnt hide well in the open fields.
They were stood upon a hill a short walk from Endsham's Northern Gate, with golden grass that bent and flapped in the downward gales. The wind was plummeting from a cliff further North, where a mighty waterfall collapsed and tumbled ceaselessly into the wide and gushing river flowing on the Eastern side of Endsham.
The cliff itself was a dark, wet stone, made of countless standing pillars of rock, as it they had been pulled up from the depths of the world one by one. Those countless interlocking, vaguely-regular shapes formed a cliff face that looked surprisingly unweathered, despite the constant stream of water on it.
The smell of freshwater, vapour, and wheat filled Welt's nose, and mixed with the metal and war of Ira's own scent as it was carried Southward, toward him.
"Are there any rules to this? Or are we just fighting?"
Welt spoke with resignation. He really wan't keen at the prospect of fighting his new acquaintance.
"Eh. We'll figure all that out as we go."
Ira continued to stretch, platning her leg on an upturned boulder beside her.
As... we go?
Ira suddenly turned her head, and shouted back over the field again.
"Oh. But there is one thing. Take off your training weights."
Welt looked to Ira.
"I... I can't. I'm sorry."
"That so? Well, you have your reasons."
HEAD.
Ira surged forward, without warning like a Misthound's sudden charge. Her yellow-irised eyes flashed with a glare, and a devilish smile exploded onto her face as she dove at Welt.
In the air, she fixed her posture, pulling her leg back and high behind her. She twisted her body, before spinning back the other way to unleash a kick toward Welt.
Welt met it with his arms braced, putting one leg back to help lock himself in place. The force that pulsed through his bones was immense, shaking him to the core, but he'd barely managed to stop the deadly attack.
If the voice hadn't warned him...
Crazy woman!
Ira didn't stop with just that, either. Falling to the ground, she pulled her fist up and delivered a powerful straight towards Welt's scalp. He barely moved his head to the side, getting clipped on the forehead as the fist flew past him.
Welt's arm shot up, snatching at the extended arm on instinct. He wrapped his hand around her arm's joint, and pulled it toward him. Ira struggled to break free of Welt's tight grip, stumbling a quarter step toward him before she managed to break free.
That quarter step was plenty however, and Welt used her loss of balance to sweep at her leg.
However, pulling up his leg took more effort than he'd practised with this move in Drun's training. The Burden made his riposte come slowly, and Ira was able to step into her stumble, regaining her footing.
Adaptable, akin to the Six-Hundred Limb that Drun had fought in the Westernmost reaches of the Harvestlands long ago.
Ira's stance was lower than before, and her palm snuck into Welt's tunic with a firm, out-turned grip on the fabric. She squatted more, and pulled Welt so that his back bent backwards, lifting his sweeping leg further in the air, worsening his balance.
However, it seemed Ira, too, was unfamiliar with The Burden in a fight, and so it took her more effort to pull Welt in the way she'd intended.
Welt struggled with his balance as his momentum carried him furhter and further off-course. He spun his torso, allowing the unnatural weight of this body to assist in producing the spinning force, and swung his leg down at a new angle, flying towards Ira's shin.
He crouched the leg inward, lading it on Ira's thigh before extending in a powerful push, breaking free of the girl's claw-like grip.
The exhange had ended, punctuated with Welt's unnaturally heavy thump on the golden field a good arm's length away from his opponent. They both already breathed laboriously, and Welt resisted the temptation to wipe sweat that trickled down the side of his face.
Ira's ability to adapt to any holds or counters made by Welt was impressive, clearly honed from a long time training against many different opponents.
Welt's own style of fighting was basic, with just a foundational knowledge in escaping holds from his time being grappled, clawed, stabbed-through, chomped, clapsed, and maimed by all kinds of Monsters in his time hunting with Drun.
His instincts of pushing on her thigh to escape came from an event when he'd been about eleven, and a snarling woodbear had his tunic hooked on one of its bottom tusks.
Ira held her hand out, extending an offer for Welt to initiate the next exchange.
But...
Welt... didn't know how.
As a Monster Hunter, he'd only ever intiated attacks against opponents when at a clear advantage of some kind. Most often, taking them by surprise. In the case of an open-field, daytime sparring match, there was no surprise to be had.
Welt stood unmovingly, even as Ira's hand ushered him to try attacking her, more and more, over the ocurse of a few seconds.
...
The wind whipped loudly against his clothes.
Ira scowled at Welt, and pushed forwards to him again.
Welt caught the smell of Death on the wind as she approached. True danger was coming in her attack.
She meant to kill him.
What?
NECK.
Welt pulled his hands closer to his neck, forming a sensible guard. The fearsome girl sent her straightened, blade-like fingers straight toward the small gap in his guard, right at his adams apple.
LE-AR-NE-STO-FOO-LE-
A cacophony of whispering voices overlapped and collided on the winds around Welt, confusing him for a moment. Following Ira's intent was similarly hard, as the stabbing hand suddenly snaked back and around his arm, coiling and moving to strike somewhere else.
Its trajectory was impossible to determine, so Welt tried to take a step back and gain some distance.
As soon as his foot stepped back, Ira's entire body went low, and a boarish tackle exploded into his stomach and ribs. Welt couldn't breathe as all the air in his lungs escaped him, and his ribs bruised and cracked from the blunt, full-body strike.
Welt lost balance completely, falling backward with the tackle and landing on his back in the wheat-like grass.
Welt went to slip from beneath Ira as he flew, but she seemed to anticipate that as well, locking her leg with his before he could push her away.
The interlocked pair skid across the field for a moment as Welt tried desperately to response. The smell of Death had disappeared from Ira, but he still wanted to win.
A thunderous smack to her temple came from the side, enough to easily knock out or even kill a normal human. Welt's eyes immediately widened, and his body weakened in horror.
"Ira! Oh my Gods, I-"
But Ira was still conscious, with a look on her face that shook Welt for a moment.
Ira's grin was mad with the joy of victory. Blood from her temple trickled down her face, painting her teeth a dangerous and violent red. The brushings of red in her hair stood more prominently than usual, ruffled and brought to the front of her golden hair.
Ira allowed her body to fall towards Welt, and an elbow flew into his temple, much harder of a strike than Welt's own fist had managed.
The world spun around him for a moment, and Welt slumped in the grass, unconscious.