Chapter IV: Where is your common sense?

Sunlight touched his cheek. Herzog’s eyes drifted slowly open, the bedroom coming into view in a blurry image. At the bottom of his sight, a clump of pink hair lay next to him on the bed, just like every morning.

He yawned large, lowering his hand, and petted her.

“Good morning, Zoey...”

His eyes narrowed.

Her fur was strange today. Thinner... longer?

Paradox lifted her head with a yawn of her own.

“Good morning.”

He yanked his hand back.

“Huh?!”

They were about to open the shop. Herzog checked the shelves, seeing if there was anything amiss with the price tags or inventory. With a towel wrapped around her body, Zoey glided across the wooden floor, leaving a shiny trail behind.

His eyes fell on the counter as he turned.

Paradox stood behind it, a piece of paper in her hands and a pensive look on her face.

He blinked.

“When are you fighting?”

She snapped back to herself.

“In one week.” Her eyes lowered to the paper again. “There is some stuff I need to do until then. After my shift here, I mean.”

“Is that what’s in the paper?”

“Yeah, it’s a list. But I’m not very good with chores, though...”

Paradox looked at him with puppy eyes.

Herzog sighed.

“Alright, let me see. I’m sure I can give you a hand with simple chores.”

He approached the counter, taking the list from her.

Paradox smiled wide.

“Let’s see...”

Steal giant eggs from a gryphon...

He stopped reading immediately and shoved the list back to her.

“Absolutely not.”

“But you didn’t read everything!”

“I don’t need to! I can have an idea based on the first chore and who’s written it!”

Paradox pouted, eyes tearing up, and swiveled away from him abruptly.

She was cute, but not enough to make him risk his neck for some monster eggs. Why did she even need that?

Herzog crossed his arms and swiveled as well.

The doorbell rang.

“GOOD MORNING!” they shouted in unison.

Zoey’s voice reached him, coming from the storage room.

“We’re out of oil for the lamps, Zog.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

He rounded the counter and trotted out of the shop.

His hands were busy with the crate; jars filled with oil clicking inside. Herzog brushed the door open with his elbow.

He stubbed his toe against something hard.

“Ouch.”

A familiar wooden box. His old adventure gear.

“Zoey, I’m back!

She appeared, flying towards him.

“Nice. You got the oil.”

“Yes, but never mind that—what’s the box doing here?”

“Oh, right. I had Paradox put in a visible place, so you don’t forget it when you go out doing whatever you two were discussing earlier.”

“I didn’t agree to anything, though.”

“Hm. I didn’t know.” She wobbled up and down. “Well, better safe than sorry. Worst case scenario, someone buys it.”

“I hope they do.”

“Hm.”

She flew off.

“Hai-ya!”

Paradox’s punch blew a surprisingly potent gust of wind against his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Training.” She prepared to throw another punch in the air. “Hai—”

“Giddy up, folks.” Zoey cut her short. “We’re about to close.”

“Understood.”

The shop was already empty. Movement slowed down as the tournament got closer, as most participants and spectators had likely already arrived in the city.

Herzog began putting off some of the lamps.

Paradox misplaced items back on the shelves.

Zoey hovered after her, organizing them again.

The air inside the shop smelled sweet as Herzog brewed some soothing tea.

He poured a generous cup for himself and sat beside the fire, already in his night gown.

“Ah...” He sighed in delight. “Nothing like not dying a horrific death at the claws of a half-lion, half-eagle monster.”

Crazy, crazy stuff. Aham. Who would volunteer to do something like that?

Crazy, crazy stuff.

He blew his tea, a cloud of steam wafting away from the cup.

“So hot!”

Maybe Paradox would like some tea as well.

“Hey, Paradox!” he cried out.

Nothing.

Herzog scratched his head and stood up.

“Where is that one?”

He walked, searching around the shop.

Nothing.

A chilly breeze spilled in, making him shiver a little in his gown, as he opened the front door and stepped outside.

Nothing. Just a dark, deserted street.

“It’s too late for this...”

He turned to get back into the shop, thinking she might’ve left without warning, when his eyes fell on the ladder that led to the rooftop.

Herzog glanced at the tea in his hand, and back at the stairs.

“Now, that’s perilous.”

He climbed, steps echoing metallic twangs, and poked above the edge upon reaching the top.

Pink hair.

Paradox sat on the edge, looking down at her list in silence. She looked painfully sad. Regret began eating away at him.

Maybe I should have been more diplomatic? But why on earth does she need... argh, never mind.

He walked towards her.

Her eyes moved.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey. Want tea?”

She rubbed her arms.

“Yeah.”

He handed Paradox the cup and sat down beside her, looking at the empty street below.

“Why do you need my help so much?” He asked. “I’m just a shopkeeper.”

“I don’t know. The truth is... being a superhero is such a lonely thing, you understand.”

Herzog blinked at her.

“I actually don’t.”

“Anyways.” She sighed as if that made any sense. “I’ll do the preparation for the mission on my own, don’t worry. I’m used to it.”

“So that’s what the list is for?”

“Yeah. Like I told you, the scope of my mission is significant. I can’t just face the tyrannical God-King of the Shadowlands without some minimal prep, you understand.”

“The... what? Huh?!”

“Anyways...”

“Don’t anyways me!”

She sighed as if that was a normal thing to say.

But her sadness was real, despite all the nonsense she was saying, Herzog could see it in her eyes as she burned her tongue on the tea that was still too hot.

“Paradox... maybe I can accompany you at least, you know, just so you can have someone to talk with as you fulfill your... chores.”

Her face lit up as she looked at him, a burnt tongue pressed between her teeth.

“Rweally?!”

“Yeah, besides, I’m sure the rest of the list is not that bad.”

He took the list and began to read.

1.      Steal giant eggs from a gryphon.

2.      Defeat goblin king in an arm-wrestling match...

“Oh, absolutely not!”

Thanks for reading Chapter IV: Where is your common sense?

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