Book 1
Chapter 18: Skyfluff and the Balloon Pirates: Almost Falling
The air still smelled like greed and glittered with the fine, golden dust of what was left of the pirates' ships. The party was stranded on the same crag from which they'd launched their sneeze-powered victory.
Laluna was already muttering to her rune-nails about the atmospheric corruption. Ken, ever the oblivious victor, was humming to himself. His fingers casually tracing the contours of a small, perfect golden nugget that had fallen from the sky. Ken licked the golden nugget experimentally, frowned, and muttered, "Huh. Doesn't taste like chicken nuggets. What's the point of people calling it nuggets then?"
Fluffy sidled up beside him, eyeing the nugget.
"Careful, Ken. Rocks like that usually come with either curses or dental bills. Could be both."
Ken squinted at him. "You think this could pay for dental?"
"Ken, you're the curse," Fluffy muttered, and walked away.
As the two bickered about a nugget, Narutama was silently raging. He had faced down a debt-collecting spider, tolerated the chaotic incompetence of his party, and stared into the maw of a volcano. But this… this felt like a new low.
His katana, the symbol of his honor, remained stubbornly dull in its sheath, mocking him. It had been a silent witness to a battle he'd had no part in, and a mockery of all his grueling training. Even the katana seemed to sigh, embarrassed to be part of this scene.
"I just… I can't believe it," Narutama muttered, more to himself than anyone.
"They wanted to steal from us, and we were victorious because of an allergic reaction? Where is the honor in that?"
Just then, the wind kicked up from an air elemental's passing. The ledge beneath Narutama's feet, weakened by a lingering pulse of Ken's Mone, began to crumble.
Narutama felt his feet slip. His combat-honed mind snapped into focus, calculating angles and trajectories in a flash. He instinctively reached for his katana.
This was his chance. A real, earned challenge! He would use his own skill to find a handhold, to climb back to safety.
His grip on the katana was firm, and for the briefest moment, a faint hum of satisfaction vibrated through the blade. He could already imagine the ballads singing the praises of 'Narutama, Master of the Cliffs.' They'd probably get his name wrong, or worse, credit Ken for causing the ledge to crumble at just the right moment.
But before he could even unsheathe it, a massive, calloused hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him back with the force of a tectonic shift. It was Ichiban, who had been standing beside him, silent as a mountain.
The dwarf didn't say a word, didn't even grunt. He simply pulled Narutama back from the edge with such swift and absurd precision. It felt like a rescue performed by someone who saw him as mislaid furniture, simply being put back in his proper place.
Narutama's hand flew off the hilt of his katana, and the faint hum that had just started died. The blade remained dull. The fleeting moment of earned valor, denied.
"Thanks, Ichiban," Narutama mumbled, the gratitude heavy but hollow. He had almost done it. He had almost had a moment to himself.
Ichiban merely grunted.
---
Pigaro's Wisdom
A small, wheezing sigh came from behind them. Perched on a nearby rock, Pigaro coughed. The sound was like two dry leaves scraping together. He watched Narutama, his eyes holding the exhausted look of a creature that had seen too much nonsense to be surprised by any of it.
"Do not despair," Pigaro rasped, his voice a wheezy whisper.
"There is no justice in this world. This... this unearned wealth… it offends the very cosmos. To a warrior like yourself, it is an insult. To a creature like me, it is a chronic illness."
He sighed, a sound that rattled his entire body.
"My majestic lineage where my ancestors once carried kings into battle… now a glorified wind machine for incompetent pirates. Your noble sword… a paperweight for an oblivious human."
Narutama's eyes went wide. For the first time, he wasn't alone. He looked at the tiny Pegasus, his chest heaving with a wheezy rattle, and a wave of shared misery washed over him.
"You understand," Narutama said, his voice quiet. "You really do."
Pigaro exhaled and nodded. "We are two sides of the same unlucky coin, young samurai. You, a warrior denied battle. Me, a steed denied dignity. And that oaf over there gets a windfall just for inhaling and exhaling. It's enough to make a celestial being consider early retirement."
He managed a small, bitter smile.
"Now, if you will excuse me, my soul weeps from the unholy financial transaction of that last sneeze."
A faint 'DING' echoed from Ken's direction. He was tapping his ATM card against a rock without realizing it, squinting at the holographic display.
"Huh. My balance just went up again. Did I do something cool?"
Pigaro's left wing twitched violently. His eye bulged, his nostrils flared. And for a terrifying moment, it looked like he might sneeze the entire mountain off its foundation.
"Nope. It's because you simply existed," he wheezed. "In this economy, it counts as a felony. If there were any gods left, they would smite you with overdraft fees".
Ken nodded sagely, like he'd just been handed financial advice instead of a divine curse.
---
Later that day, a new kind of bond was formed on that mountaintop. Not of shared victory, but of shared suffering.
It was a bond between a noble warrior who could not fight and a noble steed who could not fly. Both of them united in their mutual, seething hatred of Ken's unearned wealth. The kind of bond that's forged in silence and resentment, not sung by poets. They quietly hope that one day, Ken might finally trip over his own fortune.
The mountain air grew heavy with their silent agreement, a deal struck in resentment that needed no words.