Petibone (Fantasmical 2024)

13. Rusty Cleaver_ Thefoodcatalogue

Prompt: An old man handed you a rusty cleaver, hoping it would aid you on your cooking journey. You never know when you might need it.

**

The bazaar has always been one of my favorite places. I often went there just to look around and admire the peculiar goods brought from distant lands. Today, I was browsing with a specific goal: ever since my knife was stolen in the land of the goblins, I hadn't replaced it, and I felt its absence, especially when I needed to cut something for dinner during my missions. I was looking for a knife suitable for such tasks, a small kitchen tool.

There was plenty of choice, but I found them a bit too expensive, especially since I was looking for a simple cutting knife without any inlays or colorful handles.

In a hidden corner, I found an old man with a stall mainly filled with warrior tools—daggers, axes, spears, and even crossbows—but there were a few simple knives.

When he saw that I was interested in his wares, he eagerly jumped up and watched with a smile as I looked around.

"Welcome, miss. What can I offer you? I see you're looking at the knives. What kind would you like?" Usually, I don't like it when people try to push something on me, but the old man addressed me so kindly, and I'm not often called 'miss' either. So I didn't move on but stopped.

"My knife was stolen, and I'd like a small, simple cutting knife," I said, reaching for a small knife with a wooden handle, which I found the simplest. But the old man stopped my hand with a throat-clearing sound.

"If I may suggest, forget that little knife. What you need is this." He picked up a cleaver from the corner of the table, which was quite battered and rusty.

He saw that the tool he offered didn't win my favor, so he swung it around a couple of times in the air, then placed the blade in his palm and leaned closer to me to show it off.

"Don't judge at first sight; this is the best cleaver I've ever sold. Its blade is made of a material that cuts through anything," the old man smiled.

I was still not convinced. "I'm looking for a knife, not a cleaver. I don't need such a big cutting tool; I just need something to chop ingredients for cooking."

"This is perfect for that too, believe me, miss!" The old man handed it to me so encouragingly that I took it. It fit quite pleasantly in my hand and was surprisingly light.

"But the blade is rusty. I'll have to clean it!" I objected, still inclined towards the smaller knife.

"Ahh, I'll give you a discount, but only for you, miss!"

I turned it in my hand and picked up the small knife, too, and the cleaver definitely felt better, as if it had always belonged to me. The old man rubbed his hands satisfactorily, pulled out a piece of paper, and started wrapping the cleaver. "I'm giving it to you, miss, because it suits you well. You'll see, you'll be able to cook dinner better with it, and who knows, you might use it for other things too!" He winked at me and handed it over. I thanked him for his kindness and put it in my backpack.

Yes, I had my backpack with me because I was just off on another mission. I was already pleased to have found this cleaver, especially since I had stopped carrying explosive devices after I met Desiré. Who knows, it might be handy, not just for cooking dinner.

I was on another mission Luther had declined, and I tried to recall these missions to see if there was any common thread. There was the boxing one, the message delivery to the brothel, and the last one, where I had that strange hallucination in the forest.

I couldn't find any similarities between them and was curious about Luther's criteria for not accepting them. The message didn't seem unusual, but I kept my eyes open.