The World Which Is

Chapter 20

Dinner's spent in silence. The look Dad gives me when I open my mouth to tell him about my class shuts it. I don't know what caused his bad mood, but I don't want it unleashed on me. When I get to my room, there's a bow on my bed.

Frowning, I take it.

Wooden Long Bow, Quality: Excellent, Ranged Weapon

The weapon of the archer, used in conjunction with arrows to inflict damage at a distance

Perception check failed

There's only two ways this got there, and I can't imagine Dad making it. "Base?"

"I figured you shouldn't have to rely on whatever Francis will bring for you to train with. Think of it as a belated birthday present. It's made of Cali wood, so if someone gets too close, you can use it as a staff instead of having to equip your sword."

"I don't have that skill," I say, turning it over in my hands. It's plain looking, since Base can't do decorations on what he makes, but the weight is just right for me. The little one level in archery lets me know. "What's Cali wood?"

"That's just about the hardest wood out there. It's only found in Cali, and it hardly ever makes it all the way here."

"Doesn't that mean it's expensive?"

"Like you have no idea," Base replies with a chuckle. "But I didn't have to pay for it. I got a few logs way back when, and they've been gathering dust in my inventory. Cutting up one of them for your bow is worthwhile."

"Thanks." I put it in my inventory and realized I have stuff in there I need to get rid of. Being grounded means anyone I try to hand this over to will ask where I got them. I take the pouch out. "Can I give you a few things to make space in my inventory?"

"Of course."

I access my dresser and put the hides and empty vials in it, then shift them to Base's inventory. That only freed two spots. Not making the space I was hoping for, but that's because of my armor. Since I'm not a guard, I don't get the second equipment slot for what I'm wearing. It's where they keep their armor or personal clothing when on active duty. It's just a thought to switch. Those who can afford to have personal armor keep theirs there at all time I expect.

I'm going to have to equip mine one piece at a time when I want to change. Not to say anything of the space it takes up. If not for the attention it'd attract, I'd keep it in a backpack and carry that all the time.

"Thank you for the bow."

"You are welcome," Base replies, sounding like he's smiling.

* * * * *

"Dad?" I start over my plate of eggs, and the tired expression he gives me makes me shake my head and go back to eating breakfast. Did he even sleep?

* * * * *

"You must be Dennis." Francis Maltese is tall and thin, with sun bleached hair tied in a ponytail and amused brown eyes. He might be in his late twenties. He's dressed in jeans and a shirt with boots that look like a kick from them will hurt.

"I am." I offer my hand. "Dennis Carpenter."

"I'm well aware." He chuckles as he shakes it. "Francis Maltese. Grandmother made sure I knew to avoid your father on my way to instruct you. Base, you have someplace quiet I can teach this young man archery?"

"I do Francis. Dennis, where you practiced yesterday will do just as well."

"You practiced on your own?" Francis asks. "Good for you. Does it mean you have a bow already?"