An Arsonist and a Necromancer Walk into a Bar

Chapter 26 – Ash-Tinted Memories

“Why did you do that!?”

Palmira stared down at her old friend, the other girl having crumpled to the floor after a single punch. Now Lenna clutched at her cheek, glaring up at her with fear and pain while some random other people in the back of the building started shouting at her.

She barely noticed them. Instead, her whole attention was brought to the look her old friend was giving her. The fear and the pain and the confusion. A bruise already blooming on her face.

She wanted to hit her again. She wanted to drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness. She wanted things to go back to how things were before. She never wanted to see her again.

Something ugly burned in her gut.

“You left me alone, Lenna,” she forced the words past her lips, forcing herself to break that painful silence. “You left me alone in that fucking hovel with some spare change and a hole in my heart. You fucking abandoned me Lenna!”

Guilt joined the fear on Lenna’s face, and she stumbled to her feet, now keeping a distance between them. “You…” she winced. “…I spent my whole life living on the streets, Palmira! I was given an out, so I took it! You would have done the same thing in my place!”

She dared!? “Like Hell I would have!” Palmira snapped back, taking a step forward. Lenna jumped back a step, flinching. “Because, incase you forgot, I was right there with you! When you got scouted in Firozzi, I was there. When we were in Pedemoa, I was there. When we were in the Cantons, I was there. When we lost everything in Vittoria, I was fucking there. And you know what? I didn’t abandon you! Not even once!”

“Yes, you did!” Lenna snapped back, something more like anger replacing the fear. “I followed you, Palmira! When we lost our home, you were going to run off to the city and leave me and Giulia behind! So I followed you to Iscrimo, when I didn’t have to. I followed you when you left, when I didn’t have to. I followed you all the way to Firozzi, when I didn’t have to. I know you, Palmira! If the opportunity came, you would have taken it without even thinking and just expected me to follow along!”

This time Palmira flinched. That… hadn’t been what happened, had it?

Then she scowled. Because even so… “But I was willing to follow you. If you’d just told me, I would have come with you! And yeah, maybe I couldn’t have followed you here, but I could have stayed nearby. Or at least, I don’t know, have gotten to say goodbye!?”

Palmira took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her fists, trying to put out the sparks before they exploded into a raging inferno. Already she could feel her armor begin to blacken, as it took everything that small, rational part of her had to keep it from spilling out and reenacting the last time she’d been in this city.

“Palmira,” Morte’s voice suddenly echoed in her mind, a shock of ice-cold clarity that doused her rage. “Do you want to hit this girl again?”

What?

“Do you want to apologize to her?”

What!? No! She was the one in the wrong!

“Do you want her to apologize to you?”

That… she… did she want that?

“Because if not, then I’d suggest you leave. Before you do something you’ll end up regretting.”

Palmira stared at Lenna. Her old friend, who stared at her with anger. With fear.

She glanced down at Morte, the sockets of his skull empty of judgement.

Malocchio wriggled on her waist, saying nothing, but calming her with his very presence.

She came to her decision.

Taking a deep breath, Palmira put her mask back on, and turned around. “I… I don’t know what I expected in coming here. But I… I just…” she sighed, slumping in on herself. “Whatever.”

With that she turned to leave, forcing her legs to drag her out the door.

“…Palmira…”

She stopped at the sound of Lenna’s voice, turning to look at her old friend one last time. Her face, once hollow and awkward, was now filled out and exhausted. There was fear, and anger, and guilt in her eyes. Her ink-stained lips were twisted in a painful grimace.

“…I missed you.”

…How dare she fucking say that.

“Goodbye, Lenna,” Palmira replied, slamming the door behind her.

She took a single step forward, and that was all she could take. Instead she bent at the waist, letting out a silent wail of grief.

A moment passed. Then another. And then, finally, she was able to gather herself.

“You doing okay, kid?”

Palmira simply stood there silently for a few moments, taking deep, burning breaths. Then she shook her head, before stepping back into the city.

“No. I’m not.”

--

Drained after her confrontation with Lenna, Palmira simply wandered for a while, going wherever her feet took her. Through alleys, past churches, through districts both wealthy and poor, she whittled away the hours aimlessly, until on little more than instinct she found herself out on the edge of the old industrial district.

A sense of bitter nostalgia filled her as she stopped by a flowing lava canal. A shiny new townhouse of black basalt stood in front of her, one of many she could see being constructed down the whole street. A new development replacing the old and rundown, something common in every city around the world. It wasn’t anything special.

Still, many years ago, there had been a run-down smithy here. One that housed three young girls and an old crone, all of them tired and bitter. But together.

For the first time in her life, she found herself missing that old fart.

She didn’t cry. Once, she may have lived here, but it had never been home.

That didn’t mean it didn’t sting, though.

“Hey Morte,” Palmira whispered softly. “I think coming back here was a mistake.”

“You haven’t even been here a day!” Morte scoffed. “And all you’ve done is go places that make you sad! It’s no wonder you feel like shit. You know what? We’ve still got the whole rest of the day left, let’s go do something fun! You used to live here yeah? What’s there to do in Iscrimo besides die of heatstroke?”

Palmira snorted despite herself, finally forcing herself to look away from the new development. “I… don’t actually know. I don’t think I did anything fun when I lived here.”

“What!? Nothing!? How do you live in a city for years and not do anything fun!?”

‘Agreement. Such a thing is statistically unlikely,’ Malocchio chimed in, the eldritch mace for once agreeing with her staff. ‘We recommend our Lady reassess the city.’

“See, even that stick in the mud agrees, and I don’t think he even knows what fun is!”

“But I don’t…” Palmira frowned. “I, um, I don’t actually know if I do anything for fun.”

“Of course you do,” Morte countered her instantly. “Have you seen your smile when you play with those little rat dragons? Why don’t you go find some of those to hang out with?”

Palmira rolled her eyes. “There aren’t any drakelings this far north, Morte. Though… there are the magma slimes, but I don’t think I ever tried feeding them before…”

Now suddenly curious, Palmira turned towards the city center, heading toward the massive lava pool that sat at the heart of Iscrimo.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” Morte cackled. “And hey, you never know until you try!”

Palmira rolled her eyes, but a small smile grew on her face, and for the moment, she let herself push back the bitter old nostalgia and get lost talking with her mentor.

--

Some time later found Palmira sitting on a wrought iron bench, overlooking the massive lava pool at the center of the city. Far below her, dozens of magma slimes crowded at the base of the wall, crawling over and into each other as she tossed down hunks of charcoal. A distance behind her, the Basilica di Sant'Giuseppina loomed, casting her in its late afternoon shade.

“And would you look at that folks! Fatty crawls to the top of the pack once again, trampling friends and family alike for one more bite of that sweet, sweet coal!” Morte shouted in her head, his gleeful commentary keeping her form getting too bored. “Oh, but what’s this? By the Silver Moon, it’s Old Man Magma! He’s come to take what’s his! Can this old slime triumph over the power of the youth—oh no, neither of them will! Mister Squigglers pulled one over the both of them and stole it right out from under them!”

“Heh,” Palmira grinned, breaking off another chunk of charcoal. “Ten imaginary Florins on Mister Squigglers this round.”

“Hah! You’re on, my fat little dumbass is gonna win it all through sheer attrition!”

‘Disagreement. The small red one will win. We are certain of this.’

“Buddy, you could literally be talking about any of them. Please be more specific if you want to bet.”

‘Confusion. We are being specific.’

“Oh well, I tried.”

Palmira rolled her eyes, ready to throw in the next chunk, when—

“PALMIRA!”

With a yelp, she dropped the rest of the charcoal over the edge, watching forlornly as it fell into the ravenous molten mosh pit down below her.

Groaning in disappointment, Palmira turned to the voice, locking eyes with a seething Chiara.

“Where have you been!?” the crystal mage practically snarled at her. “I can’t believe you just left without even telling me where you were going! I’ve wasted my day looking all over the city for you—! Dante—the guildmaster put me in charge, so the least you could do is show me the damned respect I deserve!”

Palmira stared up at her, blinking slowly. Then, after taking a moment to look around, she hummed, “The others ditched you too, huh?”

Chiara twitched, before collapsing into the seat next to her, dropping her head in her hands. “Yeah,” her voice came out muffled and exhausted. “They did. Even Lorenzo, that bastard.”

Palmira nodded, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “Uh… sorry for stressing you out so much, I didn’t think you’d care. If it makes you feel any better, I’m here now?”

Chiara didn’t respond, simply tilting her head so she could glare at her from the corner of her eye.

Palmira winced. Okay, yeah, maybe Chiara had a right to be mad at her.

“Do you… want me to help you find the others…?”

After a long moment, Chiara sighed. “…I should, shouldn’t I? But I just… I’m the guildmaster’s sister, the person he left in charge while he was off meeting with the Duke, but nobody listens to me! If he comes back and finds me alone in the inn, he’s going to be so disappointed in me. But how can I do anything about that, when everybody scatters to the four winds the moment my back is turned!?”

“Damn, girlie, sounds like you’re in a real pickle right now,” Morte hummed. “Don’t see how that’s my problem, though.”

Palmira watched as something seemed to snap in the other girl, reality seeming to crack and shimmer around her as she reached for her rapier, ready to run her stupid staff through his big dumb mouth—!

“Hold on!” Palmira yelped, dropping Morte to latch onto Chiara’s arm before she could do anything. “You seem pretty stressed right now, so why don’t we just take a moment to calm down?”

“I am completely calm.”

“That’s great!” Palmira grinned nervously, not struggling as much as she’d have expected holding the other girl back. Maybe that strength training Ósma was having her do was good for something after all. “Especially because calm people don’t stab others!”

“Unless those others are necromantic abominations,” Chiara hissed back. “Why, calm people do that all the time! I know three who did so last week!”

“Did these people happen to be a part of the guild?”

That, more than anything, seemed to snap her out of her murderous rage. “…Yes.”

“So do you really think you should be following their example?”

“…No…”

“In that case, why don’t we take a moment to grab something to eat? I know a great café down the street we could go to! Or, at least, I think it’s great. I’ve never been there myself. But the reviews are fantastic!”

Dragging the other girl to her feet, Palmira continued to nervously babble as she tried to distract her friend from stabbing Morte. This mostly worked, and barring a few close calls and Morte’s inability to shut the fuck up they made it to the café in one piece.

The food was fine. She didn’t get why everyone hyped this place up so much back in the day. But as she sat there, listening to Chiara complain about the others between cups of coffee, she found herself, for the first time in a long time, enjoying herself in Iscrimo.