My Childhood Friend Is An Archmage Chapter 67
Translated by d6y (ko-fi)
Chapter 67
"Thank you!"
After the last child's ball is finished, the children, each with a ball of their own, thank Lancer in unison.
Much more polite than the noble children.
I smile to myself. I feel like a proud mom.
On the other hand, Lancer looks both pleased and bemused.
"Thank… thank you?"
"Yes, leather balls are expensive, so my mom and dad don't buy them!"
"Thank you so much, big brother, you can have this!" One of the kids walks up to Lancer, taking something out of her pocket and holding it out to him.
Still bemused, Lancer takes it wordlessly. He opens his palm as the child hands him a small glass bead.
"My dad makes pretty ornaments out of glass and sells them." The girl puffs out her chest with pride. "Sometimes when he makes something out of glass, he gives me leftover glass beads like this. Oh, but this is my favourite."
"I'll give you this one too!" This time, another child pops out and holds out something to Lancer.
Seeing this, the rest of the children each pull something out of their pockets to offer to Lancer.
Even though they're only in the playground to kick a ball around, they all have a lot of stuff in their pockets. The saying that children don't want to be away from things they like is true.
"Bye, magician brother!"
"Thanks for making the ball!"
They leave the playground, each with a new ball. Deep down, they're all looking forward to going home and showing off their new toy. Among them, a girl can't wait to show hers to her little brother, who is sick and lying at home.
“....”
Left alone in the playground, Lancer examines the eight small gifts in his palm.
A glass bead, an oddly shaped stone, a blue feather, a small fish-shaped carving from a wood, an unusually large acorn, etc.
In truth, they were more like junk they collected rather than treasures. But Lancer eyes each one carefully before cautiously placing them in his bag.
"It must be nice to get eight presents from those kids." I slowly approach Lancer.
As I do, he flinches a little.
What the hell?
His shoulders slump as he glances at me strangely.
"I'm sorry." An apology pours out of his lips.
I don't understand. "Why are you apologising to me?"
"Because… Skyla, you always didn't like it when I used magic, so…."
Oh, now I get why he's so nervous. He's worried that I'd get mad at him for using magic.
I let out a small sigh. "That's because you didn't use your magic at the right time and place."
For example, after witnessing my parents kiss, you told me you would use your magic to separate them. Or when I told you it was hot outside, you used a spell to make it rain.
"It was good of you to use your magic to help the children, and you were a bit cool back there."
The colour returns to Lancer's face at my words. "Really?"
"Yeah. You made them feel better, and you didn't hurt anyone." I pick up the two cotton candy sticks that had fallen to the sand and toss them into a nearby trash can. This is the largest market in the capital, after all, so it's well maintained. "Now, do you want to go buy a present for Rachel?"
"Yes!"
Back on the market street, I ask Lancer what Rachel likes. And he replies that she likes stones.
"Stones?" I ask in disbelief. How in the world can anyone like stones?
"It's true. Rachel has a lot of sparkly stones in her room."
"Aren't those just gems?"
"No, they're not gems, they look like stones…." Lancer went on for a while about what Rachel likes, but I still don't know what he's trying to say.
Then, he points to a shop we're passing by. "That stone!"
The shop he's directing to is a jewellery store that sells gemstones and metals.
His finger points to a large amethyst gemstone in front of the shop. It's a mineral that had been taken from a cave and split in half.
Aha, that kind of stone…
I nod to myself. Well, technically, it's a mineral that hasn't been processed yet, so it's not wrong to call it a stone.
"Does Rachel like that stuff?"
"Yeah. She believes it has healing powers, so she always puts it by her bedside and bows to it before she goes to sleep."
"...Why?"
"I don't know. Rachel says it's the only way to keep everyone in the Soli Duchy free of evil spirits and healthy."
"...?"
That's a folk belief….
Lancer takes my hand with confident strides toward the store.
"How much is this?" He asks the clerk who greeted us.
The clerk is confused. "What? Oh… this isn't for sale."
Perhaps it's just a decorative item for the store.
That's how I understand it, but the clerk's statement is another culture shock for Lancer.
"It's a store, why aren't you selling it?"
"What? This is our boss's personal collection, so we don't sell it…."
"What's going on?"
A man who's been watching us from inside the store walks out. He seems to be the owner.
Lancer turns to him. "How much is this?"
"Uh… I'm sorry, this isn't for sale, this is a rare find from my explorations in my youth, so I can't put a price on it."
At this, Lancer stares at the boss strangely. I don't think he understands that the store keeps things on display that aren't for sale.
"If you're looking for raw amethyst clusters, why don't you take a look at the other items in the shop?" The boss asks, watching Lancer carefully.
I speak as if to placate him. "Yes, Lancer. Let's go inside and see what else we can find. That one's too big for Rachel's room anyway."
"Bigger is better, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but that one's too big. It'll crush her room. Let's find something just the right size."
With that, we walk into the store.
"Are you buying a gift?" Overhearing our conversation, the owner asks casually.
I nod and answer for Lancer. "Yes, my friend loves gemstones.”
"I see." He leads us to one of the counters. "We don't just sell pretty gemstones, we cut them to maximise the mystical powers they contain. You won't find a gemstone in this market town with more healing power than the ones in my shop, so you've come to the right place."
"Ah, yes."
Well, I'm not sure what it is, but we've probably come to the right place.
I'm starting to think that a new religion had sprung up in the Empire without my knowledge.
"What about this one, kid?"
The boss holds out an amethyst gemstone the size of two palms glued together in front of us. It has a deep purple colour that's visible with a cross-section like the one displayed at the front of the store.
Even to me, who knows nothing about gemstones, it's a beautiful object. It sparkles and reflects light at every angle, like a chandelier at an imperial ball.
The amethyst reminds me of my maid.
It's the colour of Phoebe's hair.
Phoebe has fine purple hair. I would sit and drink tea with her in the garden during summers, and I would think how pretty her hair was when it glistened in the sun.
"By the way, amethyst is a good gemstone for calming emotions."
My thoughts are interrupted by the owner's product description.
"In ancient times, amethyst was believed to be good for relieving depression and anxiety, as well as tapping into the primal healing powers that each of us is born with. Especially if you keep it by your bedside before you go to sleep to keep evil spirits away."
"Oh, yeah…."
I don't get it, but Rachel would like it.
The shopkeeper continues to describe the gemstone.
"See the dark purple colour on the inside? These pieces have the power to drive away negative energy. I even have a certificate of authenticity from the pagoda itself." He then showed us the certificate.
Hmm, he's not lying. I recognise the signature on it.
"How much is it?" Lancer asks the price, as if there was nothing more to it.
The owner responds. "It normally costs three thousand and five hundred, but I'll only charge you three thousand francs."
‘Of course, the cost is two thousand francs. But judging how they were trying to buy that big stone outside, they must be rich aristocrats, so why not charge more?’
Unaware of the boss's true intentions, the naive Lancer takes his wallet out of his bag the moment he hears the price.
"Okay, give me this—"
"Two thousand five hundred francs." I interrupt Lancer to offer a new price.
The owner's face crumples slightly.
"Miss, what do you mean by two thousand and five hundred?! If you went to any other shop and offered that price, the owners would be furious. This one costs three thousand francs—"
"It looks like it costs about two thousand francs," I say, my expression unchanging. "I was going to ask for two thousand, but you showed me a good item with a warranty right away, so I gave you five hundred more."
‘Uh, how did you know?’
How did I know? I listened to your conscience.
The shopkeeper's eyebrows twitch when he hears me, but he feigns nonchalance and tries again. "Sorry, but this costs three thousand francs…."
"Or I'll go to another shop."
"No, don't go!"
‘Not many people pay two thousand five hundred francs directly, I must catch these customers!’
The sound of cold sweat running down his spine can be heard all the way here.
