Although Gemma wore a sly grin that suggested she intended to drink Altaïr's wallet dry, she did not order anything expensive. They had the local specialty, iced beer, and a huge platter of skewered little lizards grilled beneath an astonishing amount of chili peppers.
When the server brought the strange-looking platter of spicy grilled lizards to the table, Gemma winked and pulled faces at Altaïr and Morgan.
"Go on, try it! This is a specialty of our volcanic region, and it's perfect with the local iced beer!
"Come on, don't be scared. It's not going to hurt you! Young people should be brave enough to try new things!"
After a few polite protests, Altaïr and Morgan each picked up a spicy grilled lizard, bit through its crisp, roasted head, and crunched it noisily between their teeth.
Gemma saw none of the resistance she had expected. Neither of them recoiled at the sight of the lizards or showed any fear of the spice.
"Tsk, you two will eat anything, won't you?" Gemma clicked her tongue. "Isis's mother flatly refused to even taste this dish back in the day."
Altaïr and Morgan exchanged a baffled look.
Malika glanced sidelong at Gemma. "What did you expect? Didn't I tell you Altaïr comes from my homeland? People from the Great Desert eat grilled lizards more often than Well-done Steak, and they treat chili peppers like vegetables.
"The kid beside him is from Manti Town, so he's practically one of your own. This is home cooking to him. Why would either of them have trouble with it?"
Gemma pouted. "Boring..."
Back then, Gemma had cornered Isis's mother and forced a bite of spicy grilled lizard into her mouth, sending her running around in agony from the heat. Gemma had teased her about it every time they met ever since.
Unfortunately, the trick did not work on the two young men before her.
"Have some iced beer with it. That's the proper way to eat it, and it tastes great." Gemma rested her cheek on one hand, looking thoroughly disappointed.
Altaïr's eyes lit up after his first taste. A few bites later, he suddenly said, "We should let Isis try this later.
"She can't handle much spice, but she loses all self-control when something tastes good. She'll keep eating even with her nose running. You could... adjust the amount of chili for her."
Everyone at the table turned to look at him.
It sounded harmless on the surface, but was he really suggesting that Gemma use less chili for Isis?
Gemma bared her teeth in a peculiar grin. "Got it. I'll remember that!"
The moment she finished speaking, Ted abruptly asked, "So, did you two get together or not?"
The table fell silent.
Completely caught off guard, Gemma looked from one person to another. "Which two? Got together how?"
Altaïr gave the couple a wary look.
He had assumed that Ted and Malika placing him and Isis in the same bed to recover while they were unconscious had been an innocent mistake.
Now he was not so sure.
"They did, meow!" Sajji leaped onto a chair with half a lizard tail still caught between his teeth. "Let me tell you what happened that day..."
Altaïr clamped Sajji's mouth shut and casually shoved him back under the table.
"Hoho!" Ted hooked an arm around Altaïr's shoulders and squeezed his pauldron with one broad hand, making the armor creak.
"In that case, our relationship is going to be a little different from now on..."
Altaïr answered with a stiff smile.
To be honest, having an elder like Ted was rather intimidating.
Gemma had been completely lost at first, but after hearing Malika's explanation, the way she looked at Altaïr changed subtly.
By then, they had nearly finished all the food and drinks. Gemma patted her stomach and rose. "That hit the spot. Come on, boys. I'll take you to meet my old man!"
"I'll settle the bill first." Altaïr started toward the counter, but Gemma called him back.
"Get back here!" She pulled on the leather jacket hanging from the back of her chair. "I was only joking. Did you really think I'd let you pay? I have a tab here, so we can just leave."
"But..."
Before Altaïr could say anything else, Gemma put both hands against his back and pushed him straight out of the tavern.
—--
Once outside, she even winked at him. "Since you and Isis have that kind of relationship, I should show a little goodwill as your elder. When we reach my old man's place, just follow my lead."
"Miss Gemma, you..." Hearing Gemma call herself an elder, Altaïr instinctively reverted to a respectful form of address.
"Don't 'Miss Gemma' me. I'm still young! I may be good friends with Isis's mother, but that doesn't mean you have to treat us as the same generation. Treat me as a peer. Just call me Gemma!"
"..."
Altaïr was speechless.
For a moment, he had no idea how he was supposed to treat Gemma.
Gemma led Altaïr and Morgan toward the smithy, while Ted and Malika remained behind.
They were old acquaintances of the Master Craftsman, Harth's Village Chief. If they accompanied Altaïr while he chose a Talisman, it might look as though they were pressuring the old craftsman. There was no need for that.
There were few people on the streets of Harth.
The hottest village in the world had been built inside the crater of a volcano.
The temperature there never fell below forty degrees. Aside from the heat-loving Troverians, neither ordinary humans nor Wyverians could easily endure living there for long.
A river of molten lava, glowing a brilliant gold-red, ran through the middle of the village. Tracks and trestle bridges made of heat-resistant metal spanned it, while the smithy and ore-smelting facility at the heart of the village had been built directly over the lava.
Troverian smiths were accustomed to harnessing geothermal heat for their work. For a settlement famed as a village of artisans, Harth enjoyed unrivaled natural advantages.
Altaïr and Morgan were drenched in sweat after only a few minutes outside the tavern. Gemma, however, looked completely unbothered. Having grown up there, she had long since grown accustomed to the sweltering heat.
—--
At last, they reached the smithy shaped like a human head and met Gemma's father, the renowned Troverian Master Craftsman.
Altaïr had wondered who the head-shaped building had been modeled after. What were those upward-curving projections? Fangs?
Only when he saw the Village Chief in person did Altaïr understand. The man before him was the model for the building, and the structures Altaïr had mistaken for fangs were actually the Troverian Village Chief's mustache.
The Village Chief's mustache was even more exaggerated than the smithy's design...
The Troverian Village Chief leaned on a massive forging hammer large enough to rival a Hunter's weapon. Though short, he had extraordinarily thick limbs and cut an imposing figure at the smithy's entrance.
"Dad!" Gemma waved to the Village Chief.
The Troverian Village Chief, who had looked so imposing only a moment earlier, immediately dropped the huge iron hammer and spread his arms to embrace her.
"My precious daughter!"
Gemma pushed him away with an expression of disgust.
Following behind her, Altaïr and Morgan exchanged a quiet glance. A father who still doted so openly on his fully grown daughter was certainly a rare sight...
After pushing the clingy old man away, Gemma gestured toward the two men behind her with her chin. "These two are my friends. They came to ask you for something."
"Ahem..." The Troverian Village Chief cleared his throat and recovered his former solemn demeanor.
Although in Altaïr and Morgan's minds, it was already difficult to associate him with anything solemn.
"I'm the Village Chief of Harth. What business do you have with me?"
Altaïr and Morgan exchanged a look, then each produced the Manti Ticket given to him by the mayor of Manti Town and handed it over.
The Troverian Village Chief accepted the tickets with a puzzled look. After glancing at them, he chuckled, his whiskers trembling. "Ha! These are that fat man's tokens, aren't they?
"He wrote to me not long ago. He said you were a tremendous help during the defense of Manti Town and asked me to take good care of you.
"Are you looking to have some equipment forged?"
Morgan eagerly handed over the bundle of materials he had been carrying. "These are materials from a Teppeki Shen Gaoren. I'd like to have a Heavy Bowgun forged from them. Could I trouble you to do it?"
"A Shen Gaoren Heavy Bowgun, eh? The mechanism is complex and unusual, but that's child's play for me. Leave it to me!"
"May I watch, meow?" Sajji asked as he sprang out, his eyes shining with curiosity.
"Oh?" The Troverian Village Chief looked at Sajji in surprise. "You don't often see a Felyne interested in smithing.
"Go ahead. But our forge is scorching hot, so take care not to burn all that fur off."
After teasing Sajji, the Troverian Village Chief turned to Altaïr with a hint of anticipation in his eyes. "And you?
"Are you looking to have some equipment forged as well?"
Before Altaïr could answer, Gemma cut in. "He wants to choose a Talisman. Don't bring out any junk meant to fool people. Show him the good ones.
"Those little treasures of yours are better off in the hands of someone who needs them than gathering dust inside locked boxes!"
The Troverian Village Chief shuddered. Even in the sweltering heat of the volcano, he suddenly felt an icy draft slip beneath his clothes.