Bound To; The Wish of the Witch

XIX

The sound of footsteps on the dark bricks echoed through the halls as they crossed corridor after corridor and descended staircase after staircase. Ilia, with Tori close behind, passed several ghouls here and there performing the regular duties of a manor's staff as the two made their way down from the castle's higher floors. Shortly after reaching the ground floor, she led him to a somewhat out-of-the-way part of the castle where they stopped in front of a large reinforced wooden door with a small sign posted on the wall next to it that read "Armory." Tori stepped forward and turned the heavy door's latch before pushing it open and walking inside. Ilia strolled in behind him and spoke.

"So why exactly did you have me bring you to the castle's armory darling?" She asked, sounding a little disgusted as she walked up behind him, rooting through the shelves on one side of the room. "This wouldn't happen to have to do with your plan to take down the king, would it?"

"Sort of. Though, it's more of a preliminary step to remove an obstacle and get the rangers shaken- Oh there's one." He said, just before spotting what he was looking for on one of the top shelves that were out of his reach.

Tori pulled the hatchet from his belt and quickly swung it through one of the shelf's wooden support struts. The one side of the shelf fell and landed on the one below it, causing the clutter it was holding to slide off the lower end. Tori simply held his left hand out as a visored barbuta fell right into his palm, allowing the rest of the miscellaneous items to noisily clatter onto the other shelves and floor.

"Very smooth." Ilia commented sarcastically. "So what's so important about that dusty, old helmet?" She asked, peering over his shoulder.

He turned the helm over and blew on the front visor, casting off a small amount of cobwebs, dust, and powdered rust. Now that he had it in his hands, he was able to examine it better. The helmet was made from simple iron and felt fairly solid considering how much it had begun to rust. It was plain and held no particular features or embossings aside from three vertical vents running down to the bottom rim of the visor beneath each eye slit. Tori tilted it back and peeked inside to see that the leather straps on the interior had completed rotted away and let out a quick dissatisfied huff through his nose before speaking.

"Looks like it'll just need some new straps..." He muttered to himself, scanning around the smithy. "And it's not really that important. It's just in case someone sees me. Doing this job will be a lot easier if they don't know who or what they're dealing with." He paused, walking over to a workbench. "At least, at first. It probably won't be necessary after a certain point so I'll only need to put up with it for a little while." He added, sifting through the workbench's various drawers and pulling several strips of leather from one.

He pulled each strip taut to test its durability and appropriately tossed the ones that snapped aside before moving over to a set of leather working tools that were laid out on the bench's surface. Tori grabbed an old awl and a hammer from the set and began to poke holes in one of the leather strips as Ilia walked up behind him to lean over his shoulder again.

"Darling, what is it you're doing now, exactly?" She asked with her arms crossed.

Tori let out a quick, exasperated sigh.

"I'm trying to fix this crappy helmet up so I can use it. It'd go a bit smoother if I could concentrate, though..." He responded, trying to control his aggravation.

"Oh I see, is my beauty that distracting to you?" She asked, holding a flattered hand in front of her lips.

Tori's hands stopped and he nearly shot her a nasty look before quickly reeling his temper back in and continuing to fix the helmet's straps.

"Oh relax, I was just kidding. I'm not as dense as my sister was so I can take a hint. Anyway if that's all, then here..."

Ilia gently moved Tori aside by pressing a finger against his chest, picked the helmet up, and held in front of her in one hand. She gave the iron helm's exterior and interior a brief look-over before leisurely waving her hand around it. Just then, the bottom rim of the visor became slightly more jagged as rust began to spread over the entirety of the helmet's surface and some of the ventilation slits grew larger from the metal disintegrating into powder. Once the helmet stopped shifting and after she quickly inspected it once more, the witch held it out to him with a smirk on her face.