Chapter 2

I sat quietly at the counter, seeing the bartender peering outside the door as if to see if anyone was close by. He flipped the sign showing that the bar was closed. Closing the door and grabbing a long, flat wooden plate across the door. 

I guessed that was how he locked up his shop. 

Walking back to his counter of the bar,  eyeing the food the bartender was cooking right in front of me. Drool leaked from my lips.

"Ready," the bartender said, placing a plate of cooked meat with melted butter right on top of it and fried cheese. The smell was intoxicating. Not holding back, I devoured the food right in front of him.

The bartender stepped back, fearing he might get eaten too. "Man, you actually like my food." He turned around, preparing to make a second plate.

” I can’t remember the last time someone who actually ate my food like you before?” He said. 

"I haven't eaten in five days, but I think it's pretty good," I said.

The bartender stopped for a moment. "You asked me about the disappearances happening in this kingdom, yes?"

"It's criminal… to talk about that in the open."

"Criminal?" I said, my mouth full of food.

"You saw it on the way here, haven’t you?” Thinking back to those scarecrows when first entering this town.

”It started almost ten years ago," the bartender said, his voice a low murmur.

"A few men disappeared here and there, but no one raised an eye. The residents thought they had moved to another village or got sick of the town and just left."

I continued eating, my attention seemingly focused on my food, but my ears listened to every word.

”Oh boy.. how were we wrong.. so so wrong.” He clam

The bartender continued, his tone growing more grave. "But as time went on, more and more people vanished, and people began to notice. It was like they were forced to notice."

Taking a moment to collect himself, he continued, "At first, it was drifters, travelers, drunks—those whose absence wouldn't be noticed immediately by the public." He took a glass and wiped off the smudge that was on it. "Then it got worse. Farmers, artisans, and even the guardsmen. It became impossible to ignore."

He paused, his voice dropping. "People started asking, 'What happened? Where is my child? Have you seen him? Panic and terror began to grow among the people. Understandably, we were scared. We didn't know what was going on."

The bartender sighed heavily. "And things got worse from there. We begged our lord for help, for answers. But instead, we got something far worse."

His eyes grew distant, as if seeing something from long ago. "A crowd of us gathered in the town square, eyes fixed on the platform where the royal envoy, the Sire—the one who was the lord's assistant—stood addressing us. He spoke in a soft but polite tone. 'Do not fear, my citizens,' the Sire proclaimed. 'The lord has heard your worries. The citizens of this town have been graciously chosen for a far bigger role. Our lord has chosen them. Be grateful.'"

The bartender's hands clenched. "I can still remember that day. A woman in the crowd shouted, 'My child, she is no older than three years. What have you done to her?' The Sire's gaze turned fierce and unyielding. His eyes seemed to pierce through the woman with cold indifference."

Back at the bar, the bartender resumed his tale, his hands busy cleaning cups. "She was executed that same day for her outburst, and many others followed. The public executions were meant to silence dissent. To be honest, it was like they gave up on pretending and just killed without cause."

His voice cracked. "I was there, you know. That lady's eyes filled with worry, regret, and desperation. Then we locked eyes. Maybe the thought of not seeing or not knowing what happened to your kin—I would have that look too. It always plays back in my mind whenever I think about it."

He glanced at the two men lying on the floor. "Those two men who lie before you—they work for the kingdom, under secrecy. If anyone steps out of line or shows resistance to the kingdom, they'll be reported and taken in. But that's the story we've been told. Whoever knew the truth and tried to spread the news—most likely, they've been killed."

He looked down at the cup in his hands, a somber expression on his face. "Now, only children and young women are taken, disappearing once a week like clockwork. The local slave trader arrives regularly to take them to our lord."

His voice grew hollow. "Now it's become normal, in a way. Seeing the slave traders walking into town with a dozen children or adults, no one bats an eye. Just seeing them as...  items for whatever the lord is putting them through."

The bartender's voice grew softer, laden with despair. "We try to live our lives as normally as we can, but... Anyone who speaks up or tries to know what is going on is killed on the spot. Parents cling to their children, hoping they won't be next..." He paused once more.

"Even me telling you this much would put me on death row," he said.

The bartender turned to face me. He filled my plate again, continuing, "Even the knights of the kingdom turn a blind eye to it all, claiming they're maintaining order and peace, but that's just bullshit. They're just as scared as we are."

"Honestly, I don't care about the disappearances. How much do you know about it?" I said coldly.

"It?" The bartender questioned.

"Your lord. How much do you know about him?"

He looked at me for a moment—anger, then sadness. "He was kind."

"He wasn't like this. He used to come down to the market. Not to shop, but just to talk to the locals."

Shaking his head, he continued, "I do not know why, or what happened. He just changed overnight."

I nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Okay." I placed three silver coins on the counter, stood up, and prepared to leave.

The bartender's curiosity got the better of him. "Hey." I turned around. "Those horns, those green and scarlet eyes." A sweat rolled down his face, afraid to ask. "Just who are you?" he asked.

I glanced back at him, my expression unreadable, but then gave a warm smile. "A nobody."

With that, I walked toward the door.

I looked back. "Actually, I need a small favor."