Chapter 1: Exposed

What a life, standing around, waiting for the end of the day, and getting paid for it. Maybe it's a bit boring, but so what?

With just under an hour to go until closing time, I can hardly wait to get home, jump in the shower, and wash the smell of cigarettes out of my hair. I don't think I've been doing this job in the pub long enough to be able to ignore it yet. This local is right next to the train station in our small town. I get the feeling that only the same regulars are visiting. Luckily, I get along well with most of them. But I'm unlikely to convince them not to smoke in here.

The store does exude a somewhat intimidating atmosphere that doesn't strictly invite you to drop by for a drink. Sometimes, even I wonder how the store manages to survive with so few customers. Fortunately, I don't have to worry about that; my salary is always on time. I like it here.

Most of the time, I just stand behind the counter and listen to the guests complaining about their lives, mix cocktails, serve beer, hand out snacks, and wipe the tables. It feels like I am just some part of the furniture, and nobody really cares about how I am doing or if something is bothering me, which is exactly what I want and need.

After graduating from high school three years ago, I earned money with various part-time jobs. The one in the pub is the first one that pays well enough to live from. I may not be able to save anything, but my future self can complain about that. I also think the boss pays me more than usual because he seems to like me. Mainly like a daughter, occasionally he might cross boundaries, but only verbally. I can deal with that.

My real father is well and alive, by the way.

Of course, I don't earn as much as someone with a better education. However, the idea of learning a profession and doing it until retirement is so scary that I never considered it. I'm somewhat of a born part-time worker. Yes, I know that I may sound a bit like a brat running away from real life, but I pay my taxes. Despite my young age, I am somewhat experienced in different ways of living.

Some time ago, I even started my own small business with nothing but my hands. One possible new client is sitting in front of me right now, and I can see the struggle on his face as he finishes his sixth drink tonight. I noticed how he often looks at my name tag when ordering. But although he frequently opened his mouth, not a word came out. I think I should help him.

"Can I do something for you?" I ask in a kind-hearted tone. 

Looking up, he mumbles, "Your name is Kayla, right?"

"Yep."

He starts fiddling in his pockets until he gets a hold of a leather wallet. This dude's whole appearance screams rich salesman, and the two green 100€ banknotes he put down on the counter confirm that again.

I quickly put my hand on the money to prevent anyone from seeing it.

"You're sure?"

"Ever since I heard about you, I've wanted to experience it myself."

"All right. Meet me in the alley behind the pub in five minutes."

"Thank you."

I look around for my boss and find him sitting at one of the tables with another guest.

"I'll be outside for a minute, okay?"

"Sure," he replies briefly, glancing past me for a moment to look after the guy staggering towards the exit.

My boss is also a customer of mine. After he told me about his worries about me regularly disappearing with random people in this alley, I confessed to him what I was doing. He was surprisingly understanding… almost delighted.

Slowly I make my way into the staff room and put the tip into my purse.

The alley where I will meet Mr. Salesman is just behind a door next to me. The place is packed with large garbage containers, which are suitable for blocking the view of the people walking around outside the pub.

Leaving the room a minute early, I find him leaning back against the wall, seemingly struggling to hold the contents of his stomach inside. I kill him If he pukes on me. Unwillingly, I imagine the scenario and have to gag a little. 

As I approach him, he starts to unbutton his shirt. This looks not as sexy or exciting as you may expect because he visibly struggles to get the job done. The sight is so pathetic that I consider helping him for a moment. Despite his above-average looks, he's not my type at all... so I stand aside and keep watching. Hopefully, you don't get the wrong idea. I promise my good-paying side job is nothing naughty. 

With his shirt finally opened, I put my right hand on his chest and close my eyes, trying to forget that sad display. I open them again and can scarcely see the green light I had imagined disappearing from my hand into his body.

"Your eyes are beautiful." 

His unrequested compliment goes right past me. I swear I have no feelings here. I go total pro while doing this.

"The red suits you," he continues. 

"Thanks," he wasn't the first person to say the exact same thing to me. Yes, it's always a bit unpleasant, but I can bear it.

My normally blue eyes turn red when I use magic. I've heard that this is the case among most mages. It doesn't hurt, but I feel a slight tingling sensation in them as my mana flows through my body.

The whole act of sobering him up takes about 20-30 seconds. In return €200 cash on hand. Can't complain about that, can I?

In the beginning, I had trouble using this spell because I had no idea what to do with my mana. However, after gaining experience in healing and drinking, I improved significantly.

"That's crazy. Can I get your number?" He asks in a low voice. 

"No way, and off you go," but please keep spending your money on me, I think as I give him a slight push.

He sighs and walks away, somewhat disappointed.

After taking a deep breath before returning to the pub, I cast a routine glance at the end of the alley. I just want to ensure that my customer is gone, but I find someone with bright red eyes walking towards me instead.

I swallow loudly and can't move an inch. Depending on the other person's intentions, I could get into real trouble. That had never happened to me before. I had never been caught before. I felt so safe doing it out here.

But standing behind the containers... could this person actually see what we were doing? Maybe I should just go inside and pretend I'd thrown the garbage away. But my legs don't budge, even if I want them to.

Slightly shaking in fear, I wait until they stand right in front of me. To my surprise, it is a young woman, maybe around my age. This fact relaxes me a little... And red eyes really do look beautiful, especially paired with the black hair and pretty face of hers.

Not that it made the situation any less harmful, but my subconscious imagined a nasty-looking guy approaching me in such a scenario. And it's tough for me to be afraid of someone who looks so gorgeous.

Maybe I should stop staring.

"Good evening," her voice is calm and friendly, but I find it difficult to reply for several reasons.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"H.. How can I help you?"

"I've heard you are a healer."

I've never really been called that before. Where had she heard that? I would like to ask about that, but I can't get a word out. I have to concentrate more on not throwing up.

She knows I'm using magic, but I have no idea who she is or what she wants from me. I feel sick. This feeling of uncertainty is killing me.

Wait. Her eyes are red? She is also a witch, but I didn't see her using any magic. She may be part of some kind of magical police force that arrests mages without a license… people like me? Maybe she's preparing to catch me in case I try to run away.

I stare at the floor like a child caught stealing and shriek when she suddenly touches my shoulder.

"Are you okay? You look kinda pale." 

I'm not okay. My brain is overstrained, and my head starts to hurt.

"Alright, I'll help you," I don't even know what kind of service she's asking for. She doesn't seem drunk or injured to me, but in cases like this, it's always intelligent to cooperate.

She chuckles. "Awesome, thank you." 

"But as you surely know, this is not exactly legal, so we both could get in trouble," I explain with a shaky voice.

"What makes you think I want to do anything illegal? You basically want to be blackmailed, don't you?" If she wasn't so shamelessly good-looking, this grin of hers would definitely make me angry.

"Haha, yes," my heart is racing, and I look up to make sure she is not already calling the police, but all she is doing is smiling at me, almost as if she feels a little sorry. I'm unsure if she's playing me, but her expression is contagious. My cheeks tighten, and the corners of my mouth pull up. I'm uncertain whether I want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

"Okay, I'll keep this short. I want you to join the guild I work for. It's really the best option you have. We both don't want me to introduce you to any other."

Was the last part necessary? I watch her face slowly change. A shiver runs down my spine.

"Guild? Do you mean one for mages? Clearing dungeons and stuff like that?" Deep down, I suspect the answer, but I would like some confirmation from her.

"Give me your cell phone," she put her hand in front of me, ignoring my question, and without a second thought, I hand it to her after unlocking it. She could have simply asked me for my number, but this also works, I guess.

"You are on my side, right?"

"Here," she gives me my phone back and thinks about her answer for a remarkably long time... "Yes, I am on your side, but you have to contact me tomorrow. Otherwise, I'll reconsider."

"I will," probably not. I don't want to think about the consequences of my illegal healing sessions. Still, it can hardly be worse than going into a dungeon to fight monsters.

"See you, Kayla."

She beckons shortly, turns around, and walks away, leaving me standing here. What just happened? I want to go home.

"Yes, of course. See you," I whisper.

I wanted to ask her for her name and why she wants me, but I felt that I was not in a position to ask any more questions. Nobody will believe that story, not like I got anyone to tell it in the first place. 

But I actually handled the conversation quite well, didn't I?