[Shrubley, the Monster Adventurer] Chapter 101 – Herb Your Enthusiasm III

The very next morning brought a number of surprises to the group. Not only the Countess’ explanation that a new member would be joining them on their travels, but that it was somebody Shrubley already knew.

Konko was ushered into the private dining room, much to the surprise of Shrubley, Cal, and Smudge. Each of which had previous run-ins with her. None of them good.

“She tried to kill us!” Cal said, standing up and spilling his bowl of custard. “Aww, now look what she did! She made me spill my food!”

Shrubley got up and approached Smudge, who was suddenly shaking and trying to slink beneath the table. Shrubley put him onto his bushy head.

“It is okay, Smudge,” he told the slime. “I do not think she means to harm you.”

Smudge was just a baby when he had been tormented by Konko, Frederick, and Jorn. And while he wasn’t Awakened at the time, the fear stuck with him.

Seeing her again made him feel small and tiny, weak and defenseless. “Pyuu!”

The Countess had not expected this reaction, and she turned, clamping a steel hand onto Konko’s shoulder. “Explain. You said you ran into Shrubley, but why is Smudge afraid of you? What aren’t you telling me?”

Konko broke down, telling the whole story between sobs and sniffles as she finally recounted that she had tried to cook Smudge, and what she had done with Jorn and Frederick.

More than once she added, “But I didn’t know!”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Shrubley said. “Just because an animal cannot reason, does not make hurting it okay. If it is a question of defense, then there is no choice, but you went out of your way to harm another creature. Monsters feel pain, just the same as anybody else, even if they can’t reason.”

“Shrubley is right,” Miranda said, doing her best to keep her temper in check. This girl was still a child, barely old enough to belong to the Adventurers Guild.

Wulfram’s words came back to her from the depths of her memory, “It is not about good or bad, but a matter of how they are raised. A good child can be raised poorly, in an environment of hatred and fear, and grow to be just like their tormentors. Why, then, should we expect any different of our enemies if they are never shown the truth?”

As much as she wanted to throttle the little blonde girl, Miranda kept her hand still. She looked over at Shrubley, Smudge, and Cal. “I was not aware this was the case.” She put her hand on Konko’s back and pressed her forward before the group. “This is no longer my decision to make. Shrubley, Cal, Smudge, you may decide her fate.”

Tears ran clean tracks down Konko’s dirty face. She knelt, pressing her forehead and folded hands to the floor, bowing as deeply as one could go.

“Fate?” Cal asked, scooping up as much of the custard as he could back into his bowl. “What do you mean?”

“We will not harm her,” Shrubley said, locking his yellow lamplight eyes with the Countess. “Harm should not beget more harm.”

“Ohhh, so we could kill her,” Cal said, realizing the dark intent. He examined Konko’s prostrating form. “I suppose I could use more bones.”

Not grasping Cal’s intent, Slyrox tilted her head in confusion in Cal’s direction.

“Pyuu…?” Smudge asked.

“He wants to know if you remember him,” Shrubley said, holding up Smudge to face the small form of Konko.

Konko looked up and realized that she was not afraid. Not that there was much to be afraid of. Smudge’s innocent face looked back. He was small, but not nearly as much as he once was.

Looking at him now, after going through so much change, Konko saw how painfully adorable he was. She used to see monsters in such a different light. That they were lesser than bugs.

The Countess could very well kill her, and she did not think for a moment that anything Shrubley or his friends said would change that… but she was so overcome with guilt and remorse that there was no room left for fear.

“I do remember him,” Konko whispered hoarsely.

“I would like you to apologize to him,” Shrubley said, setting Smudge down in front of her. He quivered and whined, clearly afraid of her, which seemed ridiculous to the girl with her head on the proverbial chopping block.

“I… I am very, very, sorry, Smudge. If I must spend the rest of my days making it up to you and all Awakened monsters, I will do so gladly. Please, give me the chance to make this right.” She held up her hands, pressing her palms together in supplication.

As has already been established, Smudge was not very bright. He was, however, empathic. He could pick up on feelings better than anybody else, and right now he could tell how deep Konko’s despair was.

Instead of shrinking in fear of her, he lifted his innocent face to the heavens and began to bawl like a little child.

Shrubley scooped him up into his arms in between the slime blubbering out something unintelligible.

“He says he forgives you,” Shrubley told her. “For what it is worth, I forgive you, too.”

All eyes turned to Cal, who was shoveling custard into his mouth as fast as he could. “What?”

“It would seem you are the last holdout,” Miranda said lazily. She gently nudged the girl in the bottom. “On your feet, Konko, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Countess,” Miranda corrected.

“Yes, Countess.”

“Very good.”

Konko slowly got to her feet, rubbing at her dirty tear-streaked face with a scrap of cloth that wasn’t much cleaner. All it did was smear the dirt around. “I… should just go. I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already have.”

“She can stay,” Cal said, grinning as only a skull could. “Long as you can make some mana potions, I’m happy! You only tried to kill me a little. Your nasty jerk of a friend. He was the one who really tried to hurt us.”

“Frederick,” Konko said with a nod. “He…” She shook her head. “No. I won’t blame him. He was a poor influence, but he did not control me. My actions, much as I hate them now, were my own.”

Miranda sighed. “If only more people in power were as willing to admit their mistakes. Ah well.”

Shrubley held out a clean napkin from the table to Konko. “You are welcome here, Konko. I hope you will learn that monsters are not so different from people. At least the Awakened ones.”

Konko gratefully took the napkin and blew her nose heartily on it. It sounded like an angry dire goose to Shrubley, but he figured that would be rude to say and kept his mouth shut.

“That brief bit of interest aside,” the Countess began, “we have a big day ahead of us. Shrubley, I gave the coordinates to the Guild Leader who should have already dispatched a team of adventurers to make sure the Dungeon is where the bandit said it was. Until they are back, we have no reason to go traipsing along the countryside.”

“Then what shall we do?” Shrubley asked, setting Smudge down in front of a platter of food.  The slime looked forlornly at Shrubley, then turned to nibble at his food.

Sose hopped over and entertained the slime with fanciful, colorful dancing shapes created out of paint-like Fantasy mana. It began to cheer up Smudge some.

“Most of what can be bought here isn’t that much better than what you would find in Taamra,” the Countess told them. “However, they have better supply shops by far. There may even be a few manuals to get yourselves some useful proficiencies. Places out here usually have basic crafting manuals for sale.”

“I saw a few in that bookshop at the center of town,” Konko said. “They were… expensive, however.”

The Countess waved away her concern. “I am going to get some ingredients to make a few potions for our adventure into the Dungeon.”

“Book… shop?” Shrubley asked, puzzled.

Konko suddenly went white as a sheet. “D-dungeon?”

“You’re not going,” Miranda told her. “You’ll stay here and study. Unless you want to come? No? Suit yourself.”

“There is a shop… that sells books?” Shrubley asked, barely able to believe the possibilities. “Many… books?”

“Hundreds,” Konko said. “Most of them weren’t that useful, but… I saw a few…” She trailed off and looked at the Countess. “Why is he shaking like that? Is he okay?”

“He really likes books,” Cal spoke without looking up from his food.

Shrubley’s innocent eyes latched onto the Countess’. “Can we go? I wish to see this magical place.”

Miranda looked around, snorted once, and then motioned to the door. “I don’t see why not.”

The trip was relatively short, and Konko knew the way, so she took the lead. She was surprised at the strange stares she got, leading a group of monsters through Talvar, but she figured it was her just dessert to suffer the slings and arrows of the ignorant for what she had done.

The Book Nook was sandwiched between an apothecary and a pawnshop. Even Konko walked past it at first until she realized she had missed it.

Shrubley ran in, full of excitement. He hopped around at the sight of so many books, picking them up, feeling their bindings, and then moving on to the next.

The attendant, an old man with tufts of hair sticking out the sides of his head and thick glasses, jumped up in surprise from where he had been snoozing. He screamed and picked up a broom, intent on chasing the plant monster out.

Before the Countess could get there, Konko was barring his path. “This is an adventurer,” she said sharply. “Unless you want to interfere with Guild business, I would suggest you sit back down, sir.”

She was serious about making up for her deeds, Miranda thought to herself, more than a little impressed.

That was not a way to make friends, especially with somebody who possessed scrolls and manuals that you might want. Ideally without a 35% markup for being on their bad side.

“Better smooth things over,” Miranda said, petting Sose on her shoulder. “Good morning,” she flashed her sharp canines. “My friends and I are looking for some rare books. Manuals, tomes. You know, the sort that adventurers cherish. Before you say there aren’t any, please go look in that charming little chest you have back there that is positively radiating a magical aura.”

The old man blushed. He seemed immediately smitten with Miranda, which wasn’t particularly surprising. At times, vampyrs possessed an almost supernatural charm. And being tall, dark-haired, and beautiful was a winning combination few could resist.

He shook himself once and, with a surprisingly spry step, went over to the chest. Setting it on the countertop, he motioned to the door and the little sign that read OPEN flipped over to CLOSED. The door locked and bolted itself.

Miranda grinned. “A mage, eh? Why am I not surprised?”

“The name is Hershil,” he said with a slight bow. “I can already see you are a fine discerning lady of good breeding, so I won’t woo you with the song and dance I have to peddle out for the children. No offense intended,” he added, looking at the party of monsters.

“None taken!” Shrubley said, leafing through a book on horticulture.

Cal looked over, wondering if it was just his imagination or if his best friend’s leaves really were turning a sort of reddish color. Almost as if he was blushing, but that wasn’t possible, was it?

Shrubley turned the book 90-degrees and a large page unfolded halfway to the floor. Shrubley’s lamplight eyes went wider than Cal had ever seen.

While the Countess stepped up to peer into the chest, Cal inched closer to his friend, who seemed utterly sucked into the book he had in his hands. The unfolded page showed all sorts of beautiful topiaries and rare plants sculpted into fanciful designs. “Whatcha got there?” Cal asked.

As soon as he spoke, Shrubley let out a tiny girlish scream and dropped the book.