Year 18-3

My plan to capture the limniads was simple enough, and yet, I had waited nearly 6 hours without a sign of fish people. I even cut my palm to drip blood into the water, but still, nothing came. Returning to the leather merchant empty-handed wasn’t an option, so I had to table my mission.

I returned home. I returned to Harris’ small space we shared at the time.

Living with Michael as a child had made me accustomed to more spacious areas. Most families were lucky to have a single room, but my siblings and I had several at The Cottage. As a hunter who kept busy as I did, I had the funds to find better arrangements, but as I said, I was rarely home enough to care. At least, I tried not to.

“I need your help,” I said, abruptly entering the room unannounced.

I expected Harris in bed, but he was preparing to leave. Upon hearing my voice, my brother looked over his shoulder to find I was standing in the doorway.

“With hunting?” He asked, turning around and walking my way.

“Yes.”

“Then no,” he laughed before pushing past me.

My brothers were always asses. Then again, we were all bastards. Still, it took me off guard how Harris left the conversation so quickly. I locked the door before chasing after him on the street outside.

“You would be so cowardly,” I taunted him.

“You’ve worked yourself harder than…” he started to say until I interrupted.

“I’ve already taken on a new assignment. I have to complete it,” I said, following blindly through the night.

“I’ll help you on a single condition,” he said.

“Gold, clothes, a bigger room?”

“You must accompany me to a tavern on this fine night, that we might procure life’s most sought-after gem.”

“Alcohol?” I questioned.

“The affection of a fine woman,” Harris laughed while wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“No,” I protested with a sigh of irritated disbelief.

“One drink is all that I ask of you. Talk. Dance. Make a friend or two. Would this be too high a price for my assistance,” he added as we finally stopped walking.

“One drink?”

“Maybe two,” he said with a grin before pushing me through a door.

I landed on my hands and knees on a wooden floor before tables, chairs, and people filling lit spaces. We had already arrived.

“Harris,” I barked.

“Have a drink, and I’ll have a few. It’ll be a good time,” he said before disappearing into a crowd.

I picked myself up and attempted to act with dignity, but anyone who saw my entrance was still laughing.

I tried to follow my brother’s example by losing myself in the crowd.

Taverns weren’t my usual nesting ground. Michael taught me to hunt and kill. Loreal taught me how to live and survive. But no one ever taught me how to be social. It was never a concern until I found myself forced into situations where such skills were a must.

I started as best I could, with a drink, as my brother proposed.

Contrary to popular belief, hunters were far from heavy drinkers. We were encouraged to keep our minds clear. I never had a high tolerance for alcohol, so my first drink was enough to compare against Harris’ sixth.

Isolating myself in a corner, I had mug after mug brought to me so I wouldn’t need to leave.

People were so oblivious. People were so happy. I knew the things lurking in shadows worth harboring fear over, so I couldn’t believe countless bodies danced without care.

No one looked my way, but they were taunting me all the same.

Perhaps I was cowardly?

I couldn’t bring myself to leave the comfort of isolation while Harris sang and did tricks with his gifts. His blood surely was not the same as mine. My wish was for a troll or an angry spirit to launch an attack. I welcomed flames or even a flood. Combat might have granted me mercy, but until it came, I drowned myself.

“You should take it slow, brother,” an unfamiliar voice spoke while I lifted spirits to my lips.

I rested my mug on the risen tabletop and watched as an elf with orange skin and dark green hair positioned himself beside me.

“You aren’t my brother,” I said drunkenly.

“We are all brothers and sisters in the eyes of Freya,” the elf informed.

“Freya?”

“A Goddess of creation and beauty,” he said.

His garments, a sleeveless tunic, pants, and pointed shoes, were all black like that of a Northern nobleman. Elves often had foreign style, but he was sharper than most.

“Of course,” I said sarcastically.

I never took the time to study the Gods. I resented them. I hated them at times, so knowing their names brought little comfort.

“What brings you out tonight?” the stranger questioned while taking the unfinished drink from my hand and sipping it.

I was drunk; I had to be. Otherwise, I might have killed the lanky character. Fortunately for him, my focus was on keeping my balance.

“My actual brother, Harris the water mage, is why I’m here. Though he is not my proper brother either. I suppose we’re all bastards in the eyes of Freya after all,” I joked.

“You don’t get out often, do you?”

“I don’t get in often. I’m a hunter; my business is less than comfortable,” I admitted while grinning with pride.

I expected some amount of praise. Considering who I was talking to, I shouldn’t have. As I reinspected my table mate, he seemed put off by my confession.

“No need to be afraid. You’re an elf, not a Vampis,” I joked in poor taste.

“And that would make you a good one?” he said.

There was a shift; it was slight but present. He sat my glass in front of me and began to turn away.

“Have I offended you?” I asked innocently.

“Your profession has,” he admitted.

Before he could leave, I grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, wait, let me buy you a drink,” I offered, begging him with light desperation to stay.

“Would you not rather the company of those with duller skin,” he said.

“If you leave, I’ll have to find someone else to talk to, and I don’t like talking.” 

“That much is clear.”

The strange elf rejoined me, and I spent more coin than the night was worth. Somehow, we never exchanged names, though it might have been best that way.

The green-haired stranger was bold for a reason.

He was the owner of the establishment.