They called it a walk, and it really was a walk.
The two of them walked along quietly.
There was a difference in temperature between day and night on Dark Moon Island. Ophelia kept both hands in the pocket in front of her clothes. Today she wore traditional local clothing, and the women's version had a distinctive feature: a pouch in front rather like a kangaroo's.
In earlier years, when living conditions on Dark Moon Island were harsh and there were no other industries, men generally went out to sea to fish while women processed the catch. Because of the island's unusual geography, however, fishing often yielded special little stones. There were many varieties, and fish often swallowed them. When the women gutted the fish for salting, they would take out any such stones they found and put them in the pouches on their chests.
These stones were generally not worth much and counted as fairly ordinary Spell Art materials, but for the women of Dark Moon Island back then, they were an extra source of income that could not be overlooked.
Nowadays, this work was generally done by merfolk and laborers from other islands. Few local women on Dark Moon Island still did it, but traditional regional clothing often preserved the features of earlier ways of working, so this design had remained.
"Are you cold?"
It was Ophelia who asked, not Kallen.
"No."
They continued onward, went around the hot spring area, and left through a side gate at the back.
The hotel itself stood halfway up the mountain. After they circled around to the other side, an extremely lively street appeared before them.
It was hard to imagine that a grand, imposing hotel could be so close to this ordinary people's street, bustling with everyday life.
However, when