Elves and Dwarves (8)

"A toast to our new friends, who've come over the mountains from a faraway land!"

When Azvardo said this and raised a goblet brimming with liquor, all the dwarves smiled and drained their goblets.

The feast to welcome the elves to the dwarven nation had been held time and again.

I thought once would have been plenty, but it felt as though it was serving as a convenient excuse for the dwarves, who wanted to drink and make merry.

But the feasts held by these dwarves were a harsh trial for the elves.

"Come on, drink up!"

The dwarves kept coming to pour liquor into my goblet, one after another.

Of course, they did the same to the other elves' goblets.

For dwarves, sharing their own liquor was one of the greatest forms of hospitality they could offer.

But the liquor being poured at this feast was the high-proof distilled spirits favored by dwarves.

That was no problem for me, since I'd lived in this country for years and was accustomed to drinking enough to know my limits and pace, but it was far too strong for the other elves.

The dwarves showed some restraint with the women, but they had no mercy for the men.

The two male elf adventurers were drunk to the point of collapse in no time, and the dwarves were making merry around them as they lay sprawled on the floor.

Poor things. I'd retrieve them when I got the chance.

Yet among those male elves, there was one who had escaped their fate.

That was the bard, Huresio.

Since strong liquor would keep him from playing and scorch his throat, he deftly fended off the drunkards and slipped away.

Huresio really was something.

He'd probably been through far more situations and had far more experience than the adventurers.

And not just when it came to drinking, but in all sorts of ways.

I casually observed my surroundings while picking up thinly sliced meat and stuffing it into my mouth.

It was a little salty, but the meat's rich flavor held its own.

After chewing and swallowing, I washed the flavor lingering in my mouth down to my stomach with liquor.

That made me want the meat's saltiness and rich flavor again.

Still, if I hurried, I'd get drunk quickly and wouldn't be able to enjoy myself for long, so I took my time.

At one point, an elf took the seat in front of me.

"Eisa-sama, you're good at holding your liquor! Ah, shall I pour you some?"

Since she said it so cheerfully, I shook my head.

Even though I was used to drinking, there were limits, and dealing with the dwarves' offers was already more than enough.

The dwarves could start a fistfight, and if that happened, I'd have to retrieve the drunk elves so they wouldn't get caught up in it.

So I needed to keep my wits about me for a little while longer.

"I've lived in the dwarven nation for quite a while, so I'm just used to it—both drinking and turning down drinks people offer me."

When I said that, Rebis, the elven painter, let out an impressed little hum.

She looked to be in a very good mood, and her face was red.

She must have been quite drunk already.

Besides the dwarves' distilled liquor, imported alcohol was also being served at the feast, and she must have tried some of that.

"You look like you're having fun today. Did you finish the painting you were working on?"

If Rebis was in such a good mood, it probably wasn't because of the alcohol.

When I asked, she nodded emphatically.

"That's right! Listen to me, Eisa-sama! I'm so glad I came to this dwarven nation!"

Rebis leaned forward as she said that, so I held her back and sat her down again.

She really was drunk today.

She must have been extremely satisfied with how the painting had turned out.

I could have her show it to me tomorrow—though she'd probably be unable to move with all the alcohol still in her system—or perhaps the day after tomorrow.

There was a small reason Rebis had said she was glad to have come to the dwarven nation—or rather, a major reason from her perspective.

Compared with Huresio, the bard, Rebis didn't travel all that widely.

Painters gave the impression of traveling to all kinds of places and turning them into paintings, but apparently they weren't actually that free.

Because unless someone recognized the value of their paintings and was willing to pay for them, being a painter wasn't a viable profession.

In Rebis's case, her name was known in the Kingdom of Rudoria, Zaints, Jideel, and the Duchy of Karkoym, and she could sell paintings to merchants and nobles there.

But once she traveled far beyond those places, earning money as a painter would suddenly become much more difficult.

Also, nobles apparently wanted portraits rather than landscapes—especially likenesses to send to prospective marriage partners—so there was a gap between what she wanted to paint and the work people actually needed from her.

Rebis herself wanted to see all kinds of places and preserve them in paintings, but her ideal and reality were far apart.

If she took up adventuring on the side, she could travel farther and paint the places she visited.

As an elf who could call on spirits for help, she was by no means helpless.

But Rebis disliked violence and apparently had no desire to fight except in self-defense.

I could understand that feeling, at least a little.

It wasn't that I was averse to fighting, but I could more than sympathize with wanting to spend one's time on what one loved rather than making a profession of fighting and devoting one's time to it.

That was why, for Rebis, being able to come to an unfamiliar place like the dwarven nation and paint there must have been an incredibly happy experience.

As I listened to Rebis speak happily, I brought meat and liquor to my lips.

"I was talking with Huresio, and we thought that someday we could gather more elven companions, form a caravan, and travel around to different places. Then we could go wherever we wanted, and if we helped each other, it would surely be fun."

What she was describing was still only a plan—or, more accurately, very much a dream.

But it was a dream that could be realized.

After all, an exchange between dwarves and elves—something everyone had laughed off as impossible for ages—was finally beginning to look like a real possibility.

If she truly wanted it, surely it could come true.

"What about you, Eisa-sama? Why don't you join us too? I can teach you to paint, and Huresio said he'd like to sing with you! We could go here and there, see all kinds of things, and make a living along the way!"

Rebis's words were an incredibly tempting invitation.

If I'd only just emerged from the deep forest, I probably would have jumped at it without a second thought.

But I shook my head.

"I think I'll pass for now. I still have things to do—no, that's not it. There are other things I want to do."

For the foreseeable future, I already knew how I'd be spending my time. After that, though... who knew?

I knew I was selfish and couldn't keep adjusting myself to other people for very long.

That might have been different with humans, but with long-lived elves, I wouldn't be able to stay with them forever.

And the elves would probably try to accommodate my selfishness, even if they had to force themselves to do so, which meant my existence could sometimes be poison to them.

Even if an elven caravan came into being, it would probably be best for both sides if we only traveled together from time to time.

Before long, the alcohol caught up with Rebis, and she slumped face-first onto the table, mumbling incoherently.

A commotion was starting up over there.

It was probably about time to retrieve the elves who had drunk themselves unconscious and get them somewhere safe.

As I looked around, my eyes met Airena's; she was looking around too.

She was probably thinking it was time to retrieve her companions as well.

In that case, I'd leave Rebis to Airena and retrieve the drunk male elves myself.

I pushed through the din to go rescue them.