“You beat the hell out of the guy, got kicked out of the bar, and the girl was turned off by the violence.” Ferda interjected. Raphi’s full lips clamped shut, his golden eyes wide with indignation. “It’s the same story every week. Which is why you’re here telling it to me, rather than chasing tail or whining in the church infirmary about why the gods hate you.”

“Someone’s testy tonight.” Raphi quirked a brow. “Who pissed in your breakfast? Is it your parents again?” He hesitated, lips almost pulling into a sneer before flattening back into a line of concern. “Or, maybe your other friends?”

Ferda jerked their right shoulder in a shrug. “Little column A, little column B.” Taras had warned Ferda that Leila had made some serous cracks at them and that Serai was eating it up. The fact that Serai would believe that Ferda would ever betray her stung, but Serai tended to hang on everything her sister said. Ferda should’ve expected it. While Leila reminded Ferda of a moniger lying in wait to ambush injured prey, Serai only seemed to see the best in her sister.

The conversation they’d escaped having with Abba and Pappa also weighed on Ferda’s mind. They were running out of places to hide. Serai wouldn’t be an option until Ferda delt with whatever bullshit her sister had put into her head, and the conversation they’d have to have with Veridis tonight would probably take Raphi out of the running too. Ferda would need to go home pretty soon and face the music.

“Well, you know how I feel about rich schmucks, especially the Shenaise variety.” Raphi pushed fiery curls out of his face to rub the bridge of his nose. “That part of the shitstorm’s gonna be outta my wheelhouse to help you navigate.” As the bastard son (who was a daughter in the eyes of his father) of a Shenaise nobleman and a Woromiran mistress, Raphi had plenty of reasons to hate the upper class.

“That’s fair.” Ferda took another sip of their drink. “Serai isn’t like your sperm doner and his ilk, but still, fair.”

“Sure, she isn’t.” Raphi snorted, then drew in a breath. “Still, maybe I can help you with your dads.” He rested an elbow on the bar and leaned toward Ferda. “Abba going stir-crazy again? You all fighting about the legality of some of your household items? Anyone fixed the kitchen hole yet?”

“Always, kinda, and no.” Ferda hunched their shoulders. “They’re on my ass about hanging around your group, actually. Due to rumors being spread about the thing I may-or-may-not have done a week ago.” They shot Raphi a meaningful look and he nodded in understanding. “Abba’s going to freak out and accuse me of trying to bring the guards to our door.”

“He always does, even though the Imps don’t tend to bother with low-level punks like us.” Raphi said, pressing his lips together. “Do you think they’ll ever see that the trouble you make is for them as well?”

“No,” Ferda slumped. “They’d rather I be like them: surviving off scraps, shrinking myself down ‘till I disappear just so everyone can be ‘safe.’” The Giso family hadn’t been safe for years

“If your dads keep giving you shit for taking care of them,” Raphi rested a hand on Ferda’s shoulder and squeezed, “then maybe you should just start focusing on yourself. Or, at least, stop suffering for someone else. Find someone who’ll prop you up instead of pushing you down.”

A smile slowly drew itself across Ferda’s lips as they leaned into the touch. “Someone like you?” Raphi bounced his eyebrows and Ferda snorted a laugh. “We broke up for a reason. You know we work better as friends than anything else.”

“Come on, you know you love me, whether we’re hooking up or not.” Raphi gave their shoulder a playful nudge. “As your friend, you deserve better than just bouncing from compromise to compromise.” He leaned close. “There are people in this community who can help support you. I’m one of them. Veridis, even if you don’t like xem, is one too.”

“I’ll stick with my dads over the cleric.” Ferda’s voice soured. “Veridis took you in after your mom died, I get that, but I’ve told you my reasons for disliking xem fifty fucking times.” Unreasonable and rigid as their fathers were, at least Ferda could trust Abba and Papa not to actively screw them over. “I don’t understand why you keep bringing this—"

Hearing a crash then a whistle, Ferda tilted their head out of the way just in time for a flying knife to miss their ear and bury itself in the adobe wall. The torn-up barstool Ferda was perched on squealed as they turned around with a scowl. A bar fight had broken out in the corner: a large Vana that Ferda recognized as one of the rowdier regulars bared reptilian teeth against a smaller woman with antlers that was new. Antler woman was twirling a knife that matched the one in the wall, lining up to slash her opponent in the gut.

Ferda took another drink and tapped the chipped mug against their teeth, considering. Could they be arsed to join in? Hell, Ferda wasn’t in the mood for the tasks they had to do tonight. Raphi, who had barely glanced over his shoulder when the knife came flying, was already back to his drink, so the bother would be all Ferda’s. The reptilian Vana had a reputation for being an absolute ass, so they probably deserved whatever Antlers could give them. Ferda should just let this meaningless drama happen.

There was another crash, and Ferda looked over to find that the brawlers had thrown a chair into the wall, spraying nearby tables with wood shavings. One of the occupants of those tables, an elderly man whose arms ended at the elbow and had been replaced with hooked wooden rods, cowered away from the shrapnel. Raphi shifted in his seat at the pitiful sight, but didn’t do much else. Ferda’s eyes narrowed.

Old man Solace was one of the few community elders who had been kind enough to give the Giso family a fresh start and welcome them to the small Woromiran pocket of Shenaise. It had taken him longer than most to give up on getting Ferda to sit still and learn the sacred poems with the rest of the children, and he’d at least been nice about it once he did. Ferda didn’t know why the old man had come to a place like this and they didn’t care. Messing with him was a step too far.

Ferda ripped the knife from the wall and hurled it between the combatants. The blade buried itself in the wall, close enough that the brawlers would’ve felt the breeze of its passing on their faces. Both froze, slowly turning as Ferda drew one of their own knives. “Careful where you’re tossing shit.” The thief tilted their head toward Solace. “Otherwise, I’ll throw the next one through one of your necks.”

The brawlers hesitated before Reptile barked at Ferda to mind their business and fuck off. Raphi turned around in his seat and grinned at the two. “Hey, if y’all want this get ugly,” he pulled his chain whip from its holster at its side, “let’s make this even.” Ever since Raphi had fought off a low-ranking War Speaker over a botched poker game and lived to tell about it, most people steered clear of him.

The brawlers each held their ground. Sweat beaded on their foreheads.

Ferda twirled the knife between their fingers, getting ready to throw at whomever came at them first. “Y’all remember what I did to the Rekkrs, right?” A year ago, a Yoranian street gang had tried to harass Woromiran businesses for protection money. Five of them had the misfortune to do it in a coffeehouse that Ferda had been drinking at one evening. By morning, there were five new graves in a Yoranian cemetery. Raphi’s backup was sweet, but not necessary to make this fight ‘fair’.

Ferda’s reminder hung in the air as the brawlers weighed their pride against their lives. They held out a few seconds to preserve their egos, but the two grumbled and trudged away to continue their fight outside. This pub was rough enough that someone might be stupid enough to have a go at Raphi or Ferda individually, but everyone knew that fighting them together was an assisted suicide note.  

Ferda scoffed, picked up their tankard, and walked over to Solace’s table with Raphi following behind. “You okay, old timer?” They plunked down on the stool across from him.

“No worse off than before,” the old man shook his head. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble, Skradaki. I was perfectly fine on my own.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Ferda rolled their eyes. “I was just grumpy about the knife being thrown at my head.”

“And I was trying to help out a friend,” Raphi shrugged. Solace arched a bushy white eyebrow at the younger man.

Ferda redirected the old man’s attention before he could say anything critical. “You sure none of those splinters fell in your ale?”

Solace slid his brass hooks around his mug and eyed the foam critically. “Well enough.” Ferda nodded and the three drank in peace—for approximately twenty seconds.

“So, how are those kids of yours doing?” Ferda hated pregnant silences and all the awkwardness they held. Besides, it had been a while since they’d talked to Solace.

“Ana and Shazi are doing fine; they even drop off their own children off for me to watch nowadays.” Solace’s weathered face softened before settling back into vague frustration. “Noam is…Noam.”

“As he always will be,” Ferda snickered. They and Raphi shared a look. Really, the Gadflies were one of the few groups that Solace’s errant son hadn’t fallen in debt to.

“Don’t get smart with me, brats. It wasn’t too long ago my kids were babysitting you two.” Solace took a long drink. “Still, my downstairs neighbors are quite happy, after what Ferda did for them.”

Ferda took a long sip from their ale, being careful not to choke. “What kind of weird rumors are you—”

“Everyone knows, Ferda.” Solace shot them a rueful smirk. “Even if there are only rumors to draw from, it doesn’t matter. The public decides the truth about these things.” Ferda eyed Raphi, who was suddenly very interested in the foam on his drink. They chewed the inside of their cheek, then shrugged. If there was nothing Ferda could do to keep the heat off themself, they may as well take credit where it was given.

“Glad Uri and Omar are enjoying their reclaimed books.” Ferda said. “What’s even in those things, by the way? Didn’t exactly get much of a chance to read ‘em with all the running and hiding I was doing.”

“They’re tomes of rare anatomical litanies and philosophy.” Solace supplied. “No one had seen them since Uri very first brought them over from the Center. Uri is having a few friends over in a couple days to study them and celebrate. Since you’re the one who retrieved the books, she wanted me to let you know that you’d be welcome.”

Ferda blinked. “I had no idea the books were so important.” Despite Solace’s casual phrasing, elders of the community only gathered to discuss new knowledge of consequence. Being invited to one of those meetings was a massive sign of regard, one that Ferda wasn’t entirely sure they deserved. “I’m honored, but you know I’m not the best person to have around for quiet study.” They scratched the back of their head. “Maybe I can just pop in at the beginning?”

“It’ll make Uri very happy to have you back.” Solace’s wind-beaten face melted into a gentle smile. The warmth of that conversation continued until Ferda had finished their drink. They had a Snawk to corner.