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A Particularly Bad Week

He had heard every sort of 'feh', 'meh', and 'i refuse to dress like a fool, maggot' imaginable pass between Albel's lips during the last week while they were holed up the workshop in Peterney trying to make enough money to keep travelling. Already they'd blamed one another several times for their accidental bankrupcy - Fate's black eye was healing nicely and Albel would be able to remove the bandages in another day or so. Neither of them, however, was at fault - owning workshops full of inventors across the continent was to blame and thankfully, after a particularly bad week, things were turning around.

Outside, the townsfolk were happily preparing for their fall festival which involved plenty of music, dancing and merriment - exactly what one would expect from a festival. Participants were expected to dress up, as well, in some way or other.

Fate sat stitching his own costume, trying carefully to make something he remembered from a video game. He wasn't much when it came to this sort of thing, but better than Albel who was more suited to the forge.

"I could make you something," Fate suggested again, looking up at the same time Albel did and meeting red eyes that reflected the hot-burning fire that forced them to keep the workshop windows open even though the air outside had begun to take on a distinct chill.

"No."

Fate braced for the insult that would follow, but none did. Instead, Albel went back to work.

And Fate did, too, carefully stitching and quite glad that he'd watched Sophia in the past or else he'd have no clue what he was doing.

The workshop was otherwise empty, leaving them in relative silence as the afternoon wore on to evening. Once or twice, Fate pricked his finger and uttered a few words and tried not to bleed on his outfit.

"Show me," Albel said when the sun was setting and he had finished lighting the lanterns and candles that kept light in the building at night.

"Huh?"

"I want to see what you've wasted the day on," he snapped, arms crossed and pretending to be disinterested. Fate nodded and spread out the pieces of his nearly-finished costume.

"It's from a game I played a few years ago," Fate explained. "Back when I thought going on a grand adventure and fighting monsters every day would be a fun thing to do."

Albel almost chuckled.

"I was thinking that we could make a bunch of small charms and sell them at the festival," Fate said as offhandedly as he could. "But we'd have to both be in costume."

"And what would you have me parade around in?" Albel almost spat the words but after nearly a year together, Fate didn't take it as anything other than a regular question.

"Well, the hero has a childhood friend... Nah, might be too difficult."

"After an entire week of hearing about this ridiculous dress-up festival and..."

"Fine," Fate said sharply without really meaning to. "But you have to wear it."

"Once we have enough money to get to Airyglyph, I'm going to kill you," Albel hissed. Again. For about the third or fourth time in the last hour.

"You're making a fortune just in tips," Fate replied. "We'll be up all night restocking. And we'll have to find a way to thank Welch for lending us the table."

Albel grumbled something before fixing the long white robes he was wearing and sitting down, arms crossed.

"Everyone else thinks you're a perfect white mage, even if they don't know what a white mage is," Fate insisted.

"I look like a Proclaimer," Albel muttered. He muttered something else, but Fate chose not to listen. So far they'd made enough money to head on to Airyglyph and stay in the nicest inns along the way. He just wasn't going to tell Albel yet - not when he was having quite a bit of fun watching the warrior in misery.

And besides, part of him thought he'd done a nice job on the outfit.