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It was a surprisingly difficult decision. Your iron staff held no sentimental value, it was... just a tool you had picked up on the abandoned Dome where Balthazar had resided. The only staff that you held any emotion for was the wooden one that your father had given you, so long ago, and that was still safe where you had left it when you outgrew it, in your room back home in Kajar. Home... It was the third day since you had left. You had promised your mother that you'd be back for dinner, but that promise had become impossible to keep when you followed Schala through that red portal. She would still be waiting for you, just like she had waited for your father. But unlike him, you would come back. You just didn't know how long it would be, or what you would do when you went back. Or maybe you hadn't actually broken that promise yet? Perhaps it was a hollow hope, but you were in a different time altogether. Was the passage of time the same for you as it was for her? You'd have to ask your friends what had happened when they returned to their own time for the first time. But this wasn't the time to be thinking about the time, everyone was still waiting for you to make a decision.
You would definitely accept the silver staff, Lucca said it was an upgrade and there was no reason not to. But should you keep your old one? On one hand, you could use it for enchanting. Iron was offence, silver was defence and having more options would aid you in your future battles. But on the other, he said he needed the iron and while you were sure Schala would be happy to help by carrying any extra weapons of yours and passing them when you asked, it felt awkward to have her become your... your servant. The answer became clear and you finally responded "Alright, I'll trade you my iron staff for a silver one, as soon as I retrieve it Mr. err..." you trailed off. Damn, you had forgotten his name!
He nodded slowly and pointed to the side. "Leave the iron on that pile over there when you return and I'll get to it eventually. Don't bother me unless you want something." and then he abruptly turned around and walked back between the shelves without ever volunteering his name.
"Whitwell." Marle whispered once he had left your view.
You tipped your head towards her in appreciation, then exchanged a look with Schala. The iron staff was in her possession and you couldn't let her Space be seen, or it may lead to suspicion and questions that would unravel the lie about your miraculous nanomachines. She understood your intent with no words needing to be exchanged and approached as you moved forward to block her from view, if that Mr. Whitwell happened to look back to you. Her hand brushed your upper arm as she moved behind you and you anxiously looked left and right. Lucca caught on to what you were doing and gestured at the others to position themselves to form a cordon, keeping what was going on hidden from more angles, with Marle giggling all the while.
