Part 1: The Night Before

                              Do not love half lovers
                              Do not entertain half friends
                              Do not indulge in works of the half talented
                              Do not live half a life and do not die a half death
                                               — Kahlil Gibran, "Half is not Enough"
The "Great" Storyteller: You've certainly heard your fair share of stories. From the bedtime tales your mom told you to the bragging from kids at school...
The "Great" Storyteller: Or, or... like those smooth talkers you occasionally encounter in taverns.
The "Great" Storyteller: Stories in the classroom, on benches where pigeons are fed, on TV and in comic books... you've heard plenty, and most of them are cliché.
The "Great" Storyteller: But hear me out, I’m sure you’ve never heard a story as astonishing and legendary as this one!
The "Great" Storyteller: It's more thrilling than the surging waves of the sea—a story that a bard could captivate a tavern full of drunks with, every one of them forgetting their drinks.
The "Great" Storyteller: And you. You will be honored as its very first listener!
The room is silent, the chaos outside blocked by the suitcase. Not even a thousand woodpeckers could peck open this door—
"Bang—!"
The door bursts open.
Sonetto: Timekeeper, now's the time, put the arm ring on her!
Sonetto pins the girl to the ground and winds back her head, preparing to deliver a dizzying headbutt.
???: You bunch of sneak-attacking thieves! Harald will come looking, and then he'll throw you all... into the sea to feed the fish!
Vertin: …
???: What—what are you doing!?
Vertin: Erick, we need you to calm down.
The arm ring settles in its familiar resting place, grasping her slender yet firm arm.
They bind her with rope and place her in a chair.
Erick: Let—me go!
Erick: You damn kidnappers, eat my foot!
The girl's feet, unable to touch the ground, jab wildly at her two captors.
But like a puppy on a leash, her target is just out of reach.
Sonetto: Sorry, it was my miscalculation... I thought a 12-year-old Arcanist would be gentler and more... controllable.
Vertin: No one could have anticipated this.
Sonetto: Yes. Next time, I'll consider using Arcane Skills.
The "Great" Storyteller: At this moment, our protagonist, a brave and clever captive, watches quietly. She narrows her eyes, trying to determine the origin of her two assailants.
Erick: Huh? Ah, I've seen that emblem before. So you're from that What's-it-called Foundation!
Sonetto: You know about us!
Erick: Hmph, of course. I have eyes and ears everywhere.
Erick: Anyway, neither of you will pry a word out of me! Even if you pull out my teeth one by one without any anesthetic, it's impossible!
Erick proudly raises her head, as if her hands are akimbo on her hips rather than bound behind her back.
Sonetto: I've seen your family’s records. Your mother's side has lived in Sogn Fjord for generations.
Sonetto: She’s an extraordinary woman. The Norwegian branch of the St. Pavlov Foundation has received a lot of help from her.
Sonetto: But ever since she...
Erick: Quite well-informed, aren't you, long-ears?
Erick: If she hadn't sailed off for that incredible treasure, you would never have caught me!
Vertin: Sonetto...
Vertin gives a subtle shake of the head.
Sonetto: ...I understand.
Sonetto: Anyway, you're living with your grandfather and father now, right?
Vertin: We mean you no harm. Just, considering your father’s and grandfather's status as Arcanists, we would like to offer you as much help as possible.
Sonetto: We have a unique school filled with kids like you—extraordinary ones. I think you'd be interested.
Erick: But I'm already in school—I mean, I already have a school within my territory!
Erick: I have a crew of sailors there, ready to plunder everything here at my signal!
Vertin: But our school is unique. It's full of territories yet unclaimed.
Sonetto: Yes, and a bunch of kids—sailors—yearning for a jarl to lead them.
Erick: Oh... that does sound tempting. More interesting than the tedium of Stillwater Lake School anyway...
Erick: But I need to speak to my crew. Not for their approval, of course! Just so they don't panic without me.
Erick: You know, they're lost without someone at the helm—
Vertin: We've already gotten Harald's consent, Erick.
Erick: But...
A small wooden scabbard lies on the table, along with a letter.
Vertin: This is what he left for you.
Erick, her hands freed, picks up the letter from the table.
Letter: “Erick, you're about to venture into a place full of dangers. It will be daunting and fearsome.”
Letter: “Every warrior of Valhalla must face such a challenge before adulthood; you will endure many hardships and a long, long time without us.”
Letter: “But I believe you'll make new friendships and return triumphant with countless treasures.”
Letter: “When the time comes, your father and I will throw a night-long feast for you, with unlimited soda and popcorn of every flavor.”
Letter: “Note: You can trust these two; they're good people.”
Letter: “––Yours forever, Harald.”
Erick: Oh… okay, I thought I'd get a proper chance to say goodbye to everyone.
Erick: Jason “the Slob's” workbook is still at my place, and there are two raid allowances I haven’t used this month...
She sulks, cupping her cheeks, elbows on the table, her face puffed up like a blowfish.