A Fae's Emporium 12 (Patreon)

Commissioned by InfiniteChaosRai

A Fae’s Emporium

Chapter 12

-VB-

“What are you?” 

I blinked as I looked up at the severe-looking man with long hair and an expensive-looking fur coat. 

Expensive shit didn’t lose quality no matter where and when they came from, and his coat definitely had to be on the expensive side for the locals. 

Because Iceland didn’t have any significant commercial industry of any kind in the 1,000 AD’s. Not even fishing. Everyone here lived off of subsistence farming, ranching, and fishing, not commercial.

At least, that was the case to my knowledge, but obviously, there was a hole in that knowledge if there was a man like him standing in front of me just an hour before I was about to leave the shop to visit a natural hot spring.

“Normally, people ask who rather than what, dear customer,” I hummed. 

“A normal human, without help, cannot construct a building this grand overnight. Who you are is someone powerful, so what you are is of a bigger importance. And you have cat ears,” the man replied with a disdainful drawl. “I am Halfdan of Haukdaelir Clan. You have set up this building on my land without leave or even a greeting, so I demand you answer my questions.”

I hummed as I thought about it. 

I supposed that I did owe the man some answers, hmm?

“I am a fae. However, that term means little to you. The closest beings that I can be equated to in your folklore would be alfar.”

Immediately, the man froze stiff as he looked at me. His eyes did not widen, he did not snarl or gasp, and he did not try to run. He froze for a split second before relaxing just a tad bit. Tense. On guard. But not panicking or spiraling. He was calm and collected, especially as a medieval Icelander who just met an alfar. 

Of course, this was because alfar, or rather elves, to the norse, weren’t necessarily bad influences or causes of problems, unlike the fae. 

“... And why would someone of your standing come down to Midgard and set up a building at the island at the edge of the world?” he asked.

“Vacation.”

“... Vacation.”

I nodded. “Vacation. I’ve swindled, scammed, influenced, and earned many a favors with my wares. I thought that my servant and I deserved a little break dipping ourselves in your island’s hot springs. The contrast of the cold and hot is something to enjoy luxuriously, no?”

Halfdan continued to stare at me before nodding slowly. “Relaxation is important, yes,” he agreed tentatively. “But did you need to bring a building with you to a location that is far from a spring?” 

“Kind of? I am the building. This shop.”

“... Shop.”

He looked around. 

“This is a shop?”

“Oh, yes. This is a shop, Halfdan. I trade in many things,” I grinned impishly. “From the smallest of tools that only cost silvers… to the essence of the divine that will make you a god among men… if not a lesser god in power,” I crooned. 

He seemed interested.

At first. 

“I do not think I will partake or trade in anything,” he declared after a while. “Is it against your rules to peruse the items on display?” 

“No,” I asked in surprise. “But why not partake in some?” 

“... There is one thing the Christian monk on our island and I agree on, though I have not voiced it to him or others,” he spoke after a while. He turned away to look at a few of the items close to the back counter. “Humans are unruly creatures that need guidance. It is not the place of the guided to take the place of the guide until they are ready.”

“And you don’t think you can become a guide?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. 

He glanced at me. 

“The difference between me and the common rabble is that I know who I am. What I am. Where I am. I do not put fake pride into things I am not. Such weakness only leads to loss.”

He looked away. 

I blinked in surprise. 

No pride beyond what he knows. 

I snorted. I knew his type. Someone who was not just aware of his position but understood it down to the bones. The center of his philosophy was, as he himself stated, not that different from Christianity. 

Christianity’s core idea was very simple. 

‘You are dirty, sinful, and ugly thing. Who the fuck are you to lord yourself over others? It was because you are dirty, sinful, and ugly that someone like God is needed to save you from yourself because the greatest being in the universe cannot save you, then nothing can save you.’ 

And what Halfdan told me about himself was that he too thought that he was not as great as he might appear or act. He understood roughly where he stood in the wider world. After all, he was just a man living on “an island at the edge of the world.” He took no pride in his position and standing among the exiles living out here in Iceland and knew what a trap looked like. 

A wise man.

But also stubborn and proud in his own ways. Whereas others took pride in such station, power, and wealth, he took pride in his philosophy. 

Not that I would accuse him of such or blame him for having pride. 

He was just a man, after all. 

“Not even books about diseases, agriculture, and regenerative farming?” 

But, unfortunately for him, I had anything and everything I needed to hook anyone. 

Halfdan froze again. 

I giggled. 

He slowly turned to look at me. 

“Am I the target or is it someone else?” 

“Who knows~?” 

He frowned. 

“... If you stay here long enough for that idiot to run in here, then he will sell everything that he is for a taste of what you can offer. Because he is simple.”

“Oh? Is this simple person stupid?”

“Don’t be absurd. Stupidity and simplicity are two different things,” the old man snapped at me. “Why do you play word games with me when it is now clear to me that you have an agenda with another man?”

I smirked. “Because I can,” I crooned and saw the man look at me in disgust. 

“I have no interest in young boys.”

“... What?”

“I am also happily married.”

“Wait, no, that’s not -.”

“I pity the fool. He has no idea what he’s in for when he walks in here. Assuming you stay that long,” he grunted … and then just walked out of the store. 

I gasped, looking at the spot where the old man had been before he left. 

“Master, it seems like your would-be customer managed to successfully disengage from your dismal attempt at conversation.”

I whined. “But I was having fun!” 

“Your fun is an insult to everyone’s definition of fun,” Medusa mercilessly and coolly rebuffed as she stepped out from the corner where she had been waiting. “Oh well, this one seems to have escaped making any deal with you. What an impressive feat.”

I snorted as I slid down the countertop and sat down on my cashier stool. “He was just a lot more cautious and cold than others. Stupid human didn’t want to make a deal with me.”

She chuckled at my pouty self before going back to cleaning the store. 

“So when’s our hot spring trip?”

“Hmm? Oh, right. We had a trip to go. We’ve all packed up, right?”

She gestured to the luggages that leaned against the wall of the same corridor Medusa had been waiting in during my conversation with Halfdan. 

“Oh, good! Let’s go!”

Then I picked up the luggages and walked out of the door. Medusa followed. 

---

Iceland’s hot springs were great!