《Nobody Expects the Branish Inquisition》


 Chapter 1. Every story needs a good Prologue

    There is only one God officially endorsed by the Church of Brannia, and He is unavailable for comment at the moment. He only speaks to the high priest who graciously relays his Lordship''s commands to the masses such that they may know what it was they''d been doing wrong and exactly how they can repent for doing it (usually by paying hefty indulgences to the Church).


    Also, the God''s name was Greg. Gregory Almighty. And according to prophecy, Greg would have a child sometime from now until the end of the next millennium. The only problem was choosing who this child would be. It was the biggest decision the Church had to make since God''s name, and all the members of the high council had come from the farthest reaches of the kingdom to meet in the capital, Belmont, to discuss the matter.


    On a quiet and calm night, deep in the bowels of the grand cathedral, a dozen hooded figures sat hunched around an oval table, a green brazier flame casting long shadows on the walls. The council was in profound philosophical discussion, and High Priest Nigel R. Harwood was up to here with it. He slumped against the backrest and massaged his temples.


    ¡°Screw the masses,¡± one cardinal said, standing up. ¡°The kid¡¯s got to be of noble blood. Greg wouldn¡¯t elope with some lowborn tramp.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Fulvio,¡± said his opponent, a priestess from the northern regions. ¡°We need the people on our side; thus, the child must be one of them.¡±


    ¡°Hmph!¡± Claudette, the high mage, crossed her arms and threw her red hair back over her shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t see why we even bother with this Chosen One business. We should be ruling over the layfolk ourselves.¡±


    ¡°And you would dare deny Greg¡¯s prophecy, sister Claudette?¡± asked a cardinal from the far end of the table. White-haired and wrinkled, Francis was the oldest member of the group.


    Claudette pursed her lips but said nothing. Fulvio sat back down.


    ¡°If I may make a suggestion.¡± Francis paused to take a breath. ¡°My niece, Felicity, is expecting in 3 months. Having the child be affiliated with the clergy splits the difference. It offers an air of legitimacy while still feeling salt of the earth.¡±


    This aroused considerable stir in the room. Many nodded in agreement while others murmured in hushed tones to their neighbors. After a while, they all looked towards the head of the table.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Nigel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ah, yes, an heir of the Church. That¡¯s not such a bad idea.¡± Not a worse idea than anything they¡¯d thought of so far, at least. Anything to get this over and done.


    A few heads still shook in disagreement, however.


    ¡°This is nonsense,¡± Claudette said. ¡°You just want to be called Uncle of God, Francis.¡±


    Fulvio scoffed. ¡°And I suppose you think you¡¯d do a better job raising God, huh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d certainly do better than you, you mule.¡±


    Fulvio rose and called her some words that would make a sailor blush. And with that, the chamber erupted once more. The whole discussion went back and forth, then circled to the start again. It had been hours and they were no closer to their goal than when they¡¯d started.


    Nigel¡¯s head still buzzed from officiating the royal wedding last night; that after-party was a real doozy. He soon lost track of the discussion, his attention drifting into calming pastoral images. He was frolicking in a meadow by a quaint cottage in the countryside when a loud knocking on the door snapped him back to the present.


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    ¡°I told you we were not to be disturbed,¡± Nigel said to the door. ¡°We¡¯ll come out when we come out.¡±


    The knocking persisted and a voice behind the door said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Your Grace, but it¡¯s urgent.¡±


    "Unless the gates of hell themselves have broken open, Sister Marion, I''m positive that whatever it is couldn''t possibly be more important than deciding who''s going to breastfeed our lord and savior."


    That seemed to do the trick because the knocking ceased and footsteps receded in the distance.


    ¡°Now, to the issue at hand.¡± Nigel turned back to the council. ¡°What was it you were saying, Father Francis?¡±


    ¡°I was merely pointing out that, though there''s nothing wrong, per se, with making a halfling baby the Chosen One, I believe it would be more¡­ relate-able if we kept to a human child.¡±


    "Why don''t we call it a night. We''ll reconvene on the morrow."


    The council members stood and one by one filtered out of the chambers into the night. Nigel was about to follow them out when he remembered that little emergency Sister Marion went on about.


    Darn it. That bottle of wine in his cabinet would have to wait.


    <hr>


    Nigel stopped by Marion''s room but found it empty. She wasn''t in any of the chapels or prayer rooms either. He finally found her in the mess hall with other nuns, altar boys, and maids. They were all standing around a table, ogling at something that must have been very interesting indeed.


    Nigel cleared his throat.


    "Your Grace," Marion said, turning toward him. "Break it up everyone, break it up. Let his holiness through."


    He pushed through the crowd and found a golden cradle at the center of the commotion. A sliver of moonlight shone over the table. In the cradle, a bundle of cloth wriggled and made baby noises.


    Nigel let out a breath. "Oh, it''s just another orphan. We get one of these every other week. Put it in with the rest.¡°


    What a relief. He had been worried that the emergency was the Royal Revenue Service asking about inconsistencies in the pension fund.


    "You might want to take a closer look, Your Grace," Marion said.


    "Why? Is it a hunchback? We accept those now." The High Priest took a closer look at the little bundle of joy. He slowly unwrapped the cloth from the bottom up. "Two legs and ten toes, that''s a good start. Ooh, it''s a girl. You don''t suppose that''s the reason they abandoned ship? I thought we were way past that stuff by now."


    "Sir, look higher."


    "Alrighty then, let''s see here... ten fingers and two arms, check. Gee, she''s a little thin, isn''t she?" He continued upwards towards the head and gasped. "Oh my Greg, that''s an elf!"


    "It is indeed," Marion said. "A full-blood too, by the looks of it.¡±


    "But who on Irth would leave a true elf at our doorstep? I thought they were all hiding in the woods nowadays."


    "That''s the other thing, m¡¯lord,¡± said a maid. ¡°I found her on the altar."


    "You mean the altar in the grand cathedral? The one in which we just had the royal wedding?" He looked the maids over one at a time. They were just as puzzled as he was.


    "What should we do, sir?" said one of the nuns.


    Nigel gathered his composure and pulled his sleeves. "Why, the same thing we always do. We take her to the orphanage and raise her as a pious daughter of Greg. We already take in dwarves, gnomes, and orcs, why not an elf?"


    He picked up the cradle and nearly popped his back. ¡°Good grief, what¡¯s this thing made of?¡±


    "Gold, it appears," Marion said. "Or at least coated in it."


    Nigel tried to lift it again, but it was like trying to pull out the sword in the stone. That reminded him. They still needed to pick someone to handle that whole business. But one problem at a time.


    He picked up the child instead and cradled her in his arms. She was light and frail as though she might crumble in his arms at any moment. But she also radiated warmth and life. The world faded as he gazed into her bright, curious eyes. She reached out to him with her tiny hands, and Nigel''s heart melted into butter.


    He never had a child of his own. He wasn''t allowed to because of some rules his predecessors made up. He decided something then and there. It might not have been the biggest decision he would make as the High Priest, but it was the biggest decision he would make as a man.


    "On second thought, have the cradle smelted and the gold added to my pension fund. I think I''m going to need it."

 Chapter 2. Childhood

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    ~~


    ~~

 Chapter 3. Cats in the Cradle

    Years passed. Things changed.


    Nigel was busier these days, for one. The Church was abuzz because the Chosen One was nearing her coming of age, which meant the time was nigh for her to heal the sick, help the poor, and beat up the Devil. It only complicated matters further that the situation with the Queen was getting out of hand.


    ¡°This is getting out of hand,¡± Fulvio said. ¡°How many more grooms do we have to go through until it''s clear that she just isn''t going to produce an heir?"


    "It will be fine," said Nigel. He was seated on his desk chair in the center of the room with the others on the bed or splayed on the floor. The council had to squeeze into his bedroom for the moment since their usual hall was under renovation. "When the time comes, the throne will simply pass down to the late King Lionheart¡¯s closest living relative, whoever that may be."


    "Please,¡± said Claudette, ¡°like her Majesty would ever abdicate.¡±


    "This is what we get for letting him marry an immigrant," said Francis from the rocking chair in the corner.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re losing the point here,¡± said one priestess.


    "Thank you, Lois," said Nigel. "Just because the Queen beheads anyone who doesn''t satisfy her in bed or whatever nonsense, doesn''t mean we should stoop to butting in state affairs."


    "Yet the problem of succession remains," Francis said.


    Nigel raised an eyebrow. "Do you have something in mind?"


    The old man cleared his raspy throat. "I say, we already have the true successor. We''ve had her all along, and it''s about time she took her rightful place."


    Murmurs rumbled through the room.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± said Claudette.


    ¡°It is not her place nor her destiny,¡± said one cardinal.


    ¡°Yeah. She can''t lord it over Brannia and sucker-punch the Devil simultaneously," said a bishop.


    "If anyone has a better suggestion," said Francis, ¡°By all means, let us hear it.¡±


    ¡°Actually, about that whole Chosen One thing¡­¡± Nigel began to say.


    The bedroom door swung open. A dozen cloaked heads turned to stare at the elf standing in the doorway.


    "Alice, darling, not now," Nigel said.


    "That¡¯s what you always say," Alice said.


    "We are in the middle of something."


    "You''ve been at it for hours!"


    Nigel strode to the door and lowered his voice. ¡°You¡¯re making a scene.¡±


    "Whatever, it''s all over anyway. You missed it like the last one". She slammed the door behind her, and heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs to her room.


    "And watch your tone, young lady," Nigel called out after her. He turned back to the clergy and shrugged. "Teenagers, am I right?"


    The room stirred, but no one answered him.


    Nigel returned to his seat and clasped his hands. ¡°Now, where were we?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you want to proceed? That sounded important,¡± Fulvio said with a smirk.


    ¡°He has been rather distracted of late,¡± said Claudette.


    "I can assure you, brothers and sisters," Nigel said, "that my fatherly duties do not at all detract focus from my Fatherly duties. I remain ever-dedicated to our mission and vision."


    "Are you, Nigel? Are you?" Francis said.


    "I am. And that''s Father Nigel to you. I already have one disrespectful child, I don''t need more."


    Normally, Nigel was a very cool and calm person, but he knew when he needed to put his foot down. He stared them down one after another.


    Fulvio squeaked an apology, and Claudette looked away.


    Only Francis held eye contact. For a few moments, the whole room seemed to hold its breath as they squared off. Finally, Francis bowed his head in diffidence. ¡°Forgive me, your grace, for speaking out of turn.¡±


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    "It¡¯s all right." Nigel leaned back and glanced at the clear night sky. A cold, gentle breeze flitted in through the curtains. "It is getting rather late. I say we adjourn for now and continue in the morning."


    The rest of the council agreed, and when they had all vacated his room, he let out a soul-deep sigh. He was getting too old for this.


    ~~


    He rushed down to the mess hall but found it devoid of life. The chairs were stowed, the tables cleared. Only some leftover cake on a platter remained.


    "There you are, your grace," said Sister Marion, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. ¡°Would you like a drink? Shall I get you the usual?"


    "Thanks, but just the cake is fine."


    Marion dipped back into the kitchen as Nigel pulled up a chair and collapsed in it. She came back with plates and utensils in hand and sat across from him. They ate the cake together, and a calm, relaxing silence settled over the room. Nigel tried to soak in it as much as he could.


    "Do you remember that night, your grace?" Marion asked.


    ¡°How could I forget?"


    "Can''t believe it''s been eighteen years."


    "I certainly can."


    "You know, I wasn''t sure that you could handle the whole parenthood thing back when this all started.¡±


    Nigel raised his fork. "You don''t say."


    Marion flushed. "I wasn''t good at hiding it, was I?"


    "Not a bit. But I was thankful for your skepticism. You were a great help in raising her. I don¡¯t thank you enough."


    A second silence hung over them, a somber one this time. Nigel gulped down the last of his cake and stared at the empty plate.


    "You should go to her," Marion said.


    "Really? You don''t think she needs space or something?"


    "If anything, you''ve been giving her too much space of late."


    "That¡¯s what I feared." Nigel stood and patted the crumbs off his lap. ¡°I best get to it then.¡±


    ~~


    Nigel found Alice locked in her room. He rapped on the door several times.


    Still no answer.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re in there,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving until you talk to me.¡±


    ¡°Go away,¡± said Alice.


    ¡°Alright. Guess I¡¯ll just drink this wine by myself then.¡±


    Silence. Then, soft footsteps padded to the door, and the door creaked open.


    Nigel raised the bottle. "Peace offering? I was thinking we could open it together since you''re eighteen now."


    "Okay, but don''t think this doesn''t mean I''m not still mad at you."


    "I know. Just wanted to have a little chat. But first, I want to show you something back in my room, a little birthday present, if you will."


    "You didn''t have to. I''m not a kid anymore."


    "I''m sure you''ll like this one."


    "The last time you said that about a present, you excommunicated it."


    "Yeah, but this one won''t try to kick you in when you lambaste it for throwing off your daughter."


    Alice rolled her eyes. Still, she followed him down the staircase. Her chamber was the topmost room on the tallest tower, while his was the room below. When they got there, he rummaged around in his closet.


    "Ugh, I swear to Greg, if you got me another one of those creepy dolls again, I''m chucking it out the window," Alice said.


    "Don¡¯t worry, you won''t find this creepy at all." Nigel dragged out the golden cradle from the inner depths of the closet.


    "Dad, what... what is this? I mean, most people just buy their daughters a necklace or earrings. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"


    "I didn''t buy this. You came with it."


    "What, did you enter a raffle? Top prize ¡ª gold crib, comes with its own baby."


    "You might want to sit down for this." Nigel pulled out a chair from the desk.


    Alice sat and folded her arms.


    "I haven''t been completely honest about your origins,¡± he said. ¡°Don''t misunderstand, I never lied to you, it''s just that I sort of, might have... omitted a few little details."


    "You call this¡±¡ª she pointed at the cradle ¡ª¡°a little detail?"


    "Shh, not so loud," Nigel said.


    He drew the curtains shut and double-checked that the door was locked. His hands shaking, he took another chair and sat in front of Alice, their knees touching.


    He popped open the bottle and poured himself a glass of wine. ¡°Might need a bit of this myself." Then he poured Alice a glass, too. "Drink up. It tastes weird at first, but you''ll get used to it."


    She took a sip, then a few more. "Mm, I kinda like it. It¡¯s bitter, but also sweet, and it¡¯s got a¡ª Why is there a piece of baby furniture in your closet?"


    Nigel took a big gulp of the wine and slammed his glass. "I led you to believe we found you on the doorsteps of the cathedral wrapped in rags."


    "That''s what I assumed, yes. Though I always wondered why a pair of elves would go out of their way to abandon me in the middle of a human city."


    "Exactly. Except instead of the doorsteps, you were on the altar, and instead of rags, we found you in that. I was going to sell it and take the gold, but I decided to just leave it as is. It''s yours now. Thought we could use it for your college fund."


    "So, you''re telling me that my birth parents were affluent deadbeats who knew how to pick a lock."


    "Marion was there too if you want to hear it from her," said Nigel. "But it''s not the only thing I''ve been keeping from you¡ª¡±


    A cough stopped him short. It was getting a little harder to breathe.


    "Go on," Alice.


    "Remember whenever you got a boo-boo when you were little, I would kiss it goodnight, then it would get better the next day, and I told you it was because of Greg''s good work?"


    "And when I got older, you said it was because of elf natural healing."


    "That''s right, except it wasn''t! And how about that time you took in an injured bird, and it could fly the next day? Believe me, I know for a fact they don''t heal that fast."


    "What¡¯re you getting at?"


    "What I''m trying to say is... *cough* *cough*, what I''m saying..."


    "Are you alright, Dad?"


    Nigel doubled over in a fit of cough, knocking over the bottle, which smashed on the floor.


    Alice rushed over to her father''s side.


    The words came out of his mouth in chokes: "The cellar *cough*, remember the wine ce..."


    ¡°Dad? I can''t understand you. Is it the wine?" She looked at the glass shards.


    "Don''t tell anyone.¡± He forced the words out through coughs and gags. ¡°Trust... no one."


    She held his head in her lap. "I can''t understand you, Daddy." Her voice was beginning to break. He could see the tears welling behind her eyes.


    His vision blurred, and he could feel blood flowing from the corners of his eyes.


    Nigel knew he only had a few words left. What he said next could alter not only Alice''s fate but the fate of Brannia, so he knew he ought to choose them wisely.


    He opened his mouth and choked out the words. ¡°You are Ch-chosen. You are¡­ Daughter of¡­¡±¡ª the tears were streaming freely down her face. He held a thumb out and wiped one off her cheek. ¡ª¡°¡­my daughter.¡±


    The world flickered.


    Alice clutched him to her chest. "Yes, yes I am. And I always will be, so don¡¯t leave me, Daddy, please¡­"


    He didn''t answer.

 Chapter 4. Weve had one, yes, but what about second prologue?

    The so-called ''dragon'' was no more than a wyrmling the size of a horse. It wasn''t even a dragon wyrmling but a wyvern wyrmling, which was an entirely different species.


    Adamu could tell by the limbs. Whereas true dragons had four legs and a pair of wings sprouting from their back, wyverns only had two hind legs with their wings attached to their forelimbs like a bat or a bird. This particular wyvern was of the cave variety. Nasty critters, especially when backed into a corner like this one was.


    The wyvern stood on its hind limbs and spread all 10 feet of its wingspan in a show of intimidation. Its treasure: a three-day-old rotting cow carcass.


    Adamu raised his shield and readied for the onslaught. He and the creature studied one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.


    At this stage of development, the wyrmling was incapable of flight since its thin, leathery wings were too weak to carry its full weight. Nevertheless, it still posed a serious threat to the nearby village. According to the reports, it had ransacked farms for meat and attacked travelers on the road. It even killed one farmer who tried fighting back, the poor sod.


    Adamu was no mere commoner, however. He and his party had slain adult wyverns before and even a young dragon once. He felt no more threatened now than if he were in a cockfighting pit battling a rooster.


    "Ugh, get it on with it already," Zhu Mei said. She was sitting on one of the big rocks in the corner, balancing her war bow on one knee.


    "Look, even Fareed¡¯s bored," she said, pointing to the party¡¯s mage, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his tome splayed out in front of him. His staff leaned against the wall. The glowing orb at the staff¡¯s tip bathed the otherwise pitch-black cavern in silver moonlight.


    "I''m on it,¡± Adamu said. ¡°I''m just looking for the right opening."


    "You know I could end this right now, right?" An arrow was knocked in Mei''s bow in a beat.


    "No thanks, I got it. It''ll make for good practice."


    "I''m not bored," said Sveta, who was standing a few paces to Adamu¡¯s left. The orc slung her ax across her broad shoulders. The runes on the ax blade glowed in the dark. "This is like that time he jumped into a cockfighting pit in Grimport, remember that?"


    "I do,¡± said Fareed. ¡°You lost ten gold pieces betting on the chicken."


    "And we would have gotten a thousand gp if the chicken won. It was a calculated risk."


    "Guys, I''m trying to concentrate here," Adamu said.


    The wyvern hissed at him. Acid dripped from its dagger-like fangs and sizzled on the stone floor.


    "Whatever, suit yourselves," Mei muttered, sticking the arrow back into her quiver. "There isn''t even one lick of treasure in this shithole, just bones and rocks and dried up wyrmling piss."


    She strapped the bow onto her back and made for the exit. "When you babies are done playing Wyverns and Warlocks, I''ll be waiting at the village."


    Her footsteps faded in the distance.


    The wyvern hissed again, spraying even more acid from its jaws. Adamu''s adamantine plate had protected him from far worse, but when it came to cave wyverns, the real threat was its scorpion tail. Even as a wyrmling, its poison was potent enough to down an elephant in seconds. That''s why Adamu was biding his time.


    Finally, the wyrmling broke its stance and launched itself at its assailant. It clawed and jabbed at the air as Adamu dodged each attack, a hair¡¯s breadth from demise. It snapped its jaws, but he blocked the acid with his shield.


    Then the moment he was waiting for came. The beast thrust its scaled tail right at where his heart was supposed to be. But unfortunately for it, he had anticipated the attack and sidestepped at a 90-degree angle, swinging his longsword down on its tail in the same motion.


    Green blood spurted from its severed tail like a fountain. The creature writhed. Its shrieks echoed through the cave. If this were an adult, the next step would be to separate it from its wings. Cut off its means of escape. This one was just a kid, though. Adamu almost felt sorry for it. Almost.


    ~~


    "And there I was, riding on the great beast''s back,¡± Sveta said, ¡°its sides spurting acidic blood from where its wings used to be."


    Oohs and ahs rippled through the gaggle of children that had gathered around her table.


    "And then what happened?" Said one of the starry-eyed kids.


    "I raised my greataxe high above my head, and then¡­" Sveta paused to take a long, slow sip from her mug.


    The children were on the edge of their seats, literally. The adults in the tavern weren¡¯t better off. Even the minstrels had stopped performing to listen to the tale.


    Sveta downed the rest of her ale and slammed the mug. "BLAM! A fire bolt exploded against the monster''s head. Its brains splattered everywhere. All because somebody couldn''t wait for their turn." She glared at Fareed.


    The crowd turned to stare at the wizard.


    Fareed shrugged. "What can I say? I was getting bored.¡±


    Sveta''s story was mostly on point, except for the fact that she¡¯d replaced the words ''Adamu'' and ''sword'' with the words ''I'' and ''ax. ¡® He didn''t hold it against her since he knew she could have done all that stuff herself anyway. And, hey, the party splits the earnings evenly no matter who gets the last hit.


    The kids left Adamu''s table and crowded the strange wizard. Fareed''s tone quickly shifted from nonchalant to matter-of-fact as he explained the differences between wyverns, dragons, wyrms, and drakes. Adamu caught a few "Well, actually"s from across the room.


    The tavern returned to normal. The lutist went back to playing his merry tune, the barkeeps continued serving drinks and food, and the villagers resumed their idle chatter. It was warm and peaceful and smelled like heaven. This was probably Adamu''s favorite part of any quest. The quiet after the storm when the heroes returned to the village so they could get some well-deserved rest and rightfully-earned... cabbages?


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    A smiling couple carrying a basket full of vegetables approached their table.


    "I know it''s not much; we''re just simple folk after all," the man said, "But please accept this our little thank you."


    "We couldn''t have continued for long if that dragon kept nabbing our cows," said his wife. "You''re real lifesavers."


    "Oh no, we couldn''t possibly take this from you," Adamu said. "We were just doing our job. You need it more than¡ª"


    Sveta kicked him under the table. "No, no, thank you, random villagers, for this wonderful gift. It shall fill our bellies and give us the strength to fight many a battle to come."


    She shook their hands, and the couple went off on their way looking pleased as peacocks.


    "You didn''t have to accept that,¡± whispered Adamu as soon as the farmers were out of sight. ¡°What do we do with a bushel of vegetables?"


    "Didn''t you hear me? We''re gonna eat them," Sveta said.


    "No, really."


    "It''s better than what you were planning to say: ''You nEeD it MoRe tHAn uS.'' Pfft, as if they need you to tell them that. You insult them by saying it out loud."


    Before Adamu could defend himself, another person butted in.


    "He''s right, you know." Mei, holding a mug in each hand, plopped down next to Adamu and handed him one of the drinks. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer to him.


    Mei continued, "Our rooms are already filling with these ''gifts'' so you better put your cabbage where your mouth is and eat up."


    Sveta offered her a carrot. "I will if you help me."


    "Never mind that,¡± Adamu said. ¡°I saw you talking to the reeve over there. What did he say?"


    "Ah, you know, the usual,¡± Mei said. ¡°Thanked us for our troubles. Told us we could stay for as long as we liked. Said he''d pay us a big chest of gold tomorrow. Yada yada."


    "Zhu Mei, did you haggle with the reeve?" Adamu said.


    "What? Me? No. I merely reminded him of the amount of economic damage that could have befallen his citizens had we not so generously stopped by this little village by accident."


    She avoided eye contact and took another gulp of ale.


    "We talked about this." Adamu''s arm left her waist and gently took the mug from her hands.


    "I didn¡¯t threaten him, promise. I just asked for a little raise. Politely."


    "Maybe we can politely return some of the gold to the villagers so they can rebuild what they lost?"


    "Come on, you know we could use the extra coin. We haven''t had a job in weeks. And we haven''t had an actual decent job in months; you know, a quest worthy of our skill level."


    Through all this, Sveta glanced back and forth between the two of them like she was a child watching her parents in a fight. ¡°You know what¡¯ll cheer you up?¡± She picked up a stick of celery and bumped it against Mei¡¯s cheek. ¡°Have some vegetable.¡±


    Mei eased into a smile and grabbed the celery.


    Sveta was the closest thing they had to a party face, and for that, Adamu was grateful.


    "Fine, I''ll give back the extra," Mei said as she chomped on a stick. ¡°But we¡¯re keeping the initial offer, got that?¡±


    "Agreed," said Adamu.


    "Guys, I think you should meet someone," said Fareed, walking up to their table. Tagging along behind him was a boy who couldn''t have been older than 10.


    The vibe of the table shifted again as the adventurers'' attentions turned to the child.


    "And who might this little trooper be?" Asked Mei. She was addressing Fareed but looking at the boy.


    "My name is Arthur, Ma¡¯am." The kid said it as though he wasn''t even sure of his answer. His blonde hair was a mess, and his mopey eyes were fixed on the ground. He didn''t look up at Mei. Adamu recognized him as one of the kids listening to Sveta''s monologue earlier. He didn''t seem excited at the time, but he had clung to every word she said.


    "Arthur here has something he''d like to say." Fareed patted the boy¡¯s shoulder.


    It was uncharacteristic of him to be this friendly with kids. Was there something going on?


    "Thank you for defeating that dragon, Miss," he said to Sveta.


    It took Sveta a second to realize he was talking to her. "Oh, uh, it''s all in a day''s work. No big deal."


    "D... did you really have fun slaying it, miss?" He asked.


    "Hell yeah. I live for this stuff. Which part did you want to hear again? The way I sliced its tail in, the way I somersaulted onto its back, or when I..."


    All the while, Sveta failed to notice Fareed shooting daggers at her.


    "So where are your parents, Arthur?" Mei said, interrupting the encore.


    Fareed slammed a palm onto his forehead. With his other hand, he turned the kid away from the table. "I think your Uncle Thomas is calling you, Arthur. We''ll talk to you again soon, I promise."


    Arthur ran off. Adamu could have sworn tears were welling up in the boys¡¯ eyes.


    "What¡¯s wrong?" he asked Fareed after the child was out of earshot.


    Fareed stood there with his hand still on his head. "Yesterday, at the reeve¡¯s, do you remember what he said during the debrief?"


    "Sure," Mei said. "He told us that some dragon was terrorizing the village, capturing livestock, attacking merchants¡­"


    "... and that it had killed a farmer," said Adamu.


    All life drained out of the table. Around them, the party raged on. The minstrels were playing a folk tune, and the villagers were dancing in a circle in the center of the room. Elsewhere, someone had spilled a drink, and his buddies were all laughing about it.


    Sveta was the first to break the silence. "I¡ªI told him I had fun killing it. Like it was¡ª nothing. The monster that took his..."


    "Father. It took his father''s life," Fareed said. "I spent five minutes lecturing him about the dragon family and its various genera before someone told me. How do you think I feel?"


    This. This was the worst part of any quest; Adamu didn''t care what anyone else said. He could stare a gorgon in the eye without flinching, but not an orphan.


    ~~


    The group sat in silence for a while, though not for long. This wasn''t their first quest. They knew they couldn''t sit around feeling bad forever ¨C that would just keep them from going back out there and preventing other kids from meeting this fate. But that didn''t mean they were going to go back to partying with the tavern either. They had other ways to cope.


    Fareed''s was to lock himself up in his room and distract himself with books. Sveta was probably somewhere whacking a tree. Adamu''s coping mechanism was Mei. They sat on the front porch, Mei wrapped in his coat and leaning on his shoulder. Together, they watched little Arthur sitting alone on a fence in the distance.


    They¡¯d found out that the tavern master himself had taken in the lad. He wasn''t actually the boy''s blood uncle, but settlements of this size were close-knit, and Arthur had no other family. A few other households had also volunteered to take him in, for all it mattered.


    "I know what you''re thinking," Mei said.


    "And what would that be?"


    "Your parents. He reminds you of yourself when you were his age, doesn''t he?"


    "That wasn''t what I was thinking at all, but thanks for mentioning it. Now I can feel sad about my own childhood on top of his."


    "Sorry. Didn''t mean to dredge up old wounds." She stood and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.


    "No, you''re right. He is like me. That''s what I''m worried about.¡± He cupped her hands in his. ¡°What if he grows up to be a bitter, edgy adventurer out to take revenge on every monster on the east coast?"


    "Then he''s gonna be the best bitter, edgy adventurer on the east coast that ever lived. Or at least second best next to you." She leaned in and kissed the top of his head.


    "I''m serious. This type of thing can mess up a kid for years. I just want to make sure he''s taken good care of."


    "And he will be thanks to you. Isn''t that why you became an adventurer? Not to kill things but save lives."


    "But what kind of life will he be living now?" Adamu asked.


    Mei didn¡¯t answer.


    The celebrations back inside slowed to a halt. The music went quiet, the lights dimmed, and one by one, the villagers staggered home. Soon, only Adamu and Mei were left, along with young Arthur, staring off into the dark hills, legs swinging.


    "I think we should give it to him,¡± Mei said. ¡°All of it.¡±


    "The what now?"


    "The reward. You were right earlier, he needs it more than we do."


    He turned to face her. "You sure? That''s a good amount of coin."


    "If it''s a good amount for us, then it''s a small fortune for him. It''s the least he deserves."


    Small fortune is an understatement. It would be enough to feed, clothe, and bathe him for the next few years of his life. You can''t put a price on that stuff. He could even save it up for an education, who knew?


    Adamu contemplated for a while. "We''ll have to talk to the others about it."


    "You already know they¡¯d agree."


    He did. They would.


    Adamu leaned back and rested his head against her chest.


    A cool breeze rustled a nearby bush. Somewhere, a pair of cats squealed. A cloud parted, and the moon shone on a sleepy village where all was well once more.

 Chapter 5. The good old days

    The interviewer looked Arthur¡¯s resume up and down one more time, or at least, she pretended to do so. He straightened in his seat, not that it would help; he already knew where this was going.


    The interview glanced at Arthur from under her spectacles. ¡°Mr. Reed. You¡¯ve got a good future ahead of you. Decent enough grades. A near-honor student for sure¡­¡±


    He let the half-compliments hang in the air and waited for the inevitable.


    ¡°¡­but I¡¯m afraid your credentials don¡¯t match the qualifications we¡¯re looking for. We only hire from the very cream of the crop. The cherry on top of the cream, in fact. And usually only those with some magical capabilities, too.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been thoroughly trained in dealing with all manner of magical threats and creatures.¡± Arthur leaned forward to point at one of the bullet points on his CV. ¡°Says it right here.¡±


    He shuffled uncomfortably in his armor. He wasn¡¯t supposed to fight anyone in these job interviews, as far as he knew, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to dress the part.


    ¡°Experience in the classroom, you mean,¡± she said. ¡°Now if you had some years of in the field, but alas...¡±


    She put the CV face down on her desk and pushed it back to him. She began rifling through the stack of other applicants¡¯ resumes.


    It was clear Arthur¡¯s time here was done. Done for her, at least; he wasn¡¯t ready to give up just yet.


    ¡°Actually, our classes over at U of B could be pretty hands-on at times,¡± he said. ¡°Talks from retired adventurers. Field trips to the, uh, museum.¡±


    She settled on one of the resumes from the stack and ran over it.


    ¡°There was that one time I helped a girl¡¯s cat down a tree, so there¡¯s that,¡± Arthur said.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that doesn¡¯t count as experience, Mr. Reed.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me you need experience to get experience?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ve all got to start somewhere.¡±


    ¡°But, but... you¡¯re an adventuring guild. Getting ¡®experience¡¯ in this industry could mean dying.¡±


    ¡°And that is a risk we¡¯re willing to take.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, a risk you¡¯re¡ª?¡±


    Arthur cut himself short. He took a deep breath, trying not to make it too obvious. It was quiet for a while. The only noise was the sound of combat in the distance. Professionals on the training grounds, no doubt. Not a peep from the hallway just outside, though.


    Mrs. Lind glanced up from her readings as though surprised Arthur was still there. ¡°If I may say, Mr. Reed, it¡¯s not the end of the world. I¡¯m sure there are plenty of job opportunities out there for a strong, intelligent young man such as yourself. Just not in the adventuring industry.¡±


    ¡°I know that. It¡¯s just¡­ I was looking forward to working for your company.¡± He decided not to mention that this was the fifth guild he had applied to.


    ¡°Would you be a dear and call in the next applicant on your way out.¡±


    Guess that¡¯s that.


    Arthur stood then started toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped and turned back. ¡°Might I say, that is a beautiful necklace you have there,¡± he said with all the charm he could muster. ¡°Oh, and I love what you¡¯ve done with the hair; the pencil is a nice touch.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a dwarf woman. Red hair. You can¡¯t miss her.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Thank you for your time and consideration.¡±


    Arthur shut the door shut behind him with a soft click. He scanned the dozen other applicants, none of whom gave him a glance, until his eyes landed on a tuft of red hair on the far end of the waiting bench. He made his way down the hallway, carefully stepping around an orc ranger¡¯s mastiff companion.


    ¡°Hi, you¡¯re up next,¡± Arthur said to the dwarf.


    Without a word, she nodded in Arthur¡¯s general direction, then headed for the office, battle-ax in tow.


    ¡°Good luck in there,¡± he said, though she didn¡¯t seem to hear him.


    ¡°Why, if it isn¡¯t Arthur Gilbert Reed in the flesh, thought I smelled something in here,¡± a familiar voice boomed from behind him.


    Arthur tried to spin around as slowly as he could to delay the inevitable. When he finally came face to face with a tall man with a shaggy brown beard, he forced his facial muscles into something he hoped resembled a smile.


    ¡°Are you sure you are not just smelling yourself, Garth?¡± said the woman in wizard¡¯s robes standing next to him. She was holding a tall wooden staff, and a grey owl was perched on her shoulder. ¡°Or perhaps it¡¯s one of these creatures they allow in here for whatever reason.¡± The owl side-eyed the ranger¡¯s mastiff for a heartbeat.


    ¡°Melissa, Garth, a good afternoon to you too,¡± Arthur said, ¡°funny seeing you two here.¡±


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    ¡°Funny to see two adventurers in an adventurer¡¯s guild?¡± Melissa said.


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± Arthur said. ¡°Like how when you¡¯re used to seeing your classmates in a school setting and then you see them in the wild in a different context. It¡¯s weird is all.¡±


    An awkward silence followed.


    ¡°Anyhoo, what¡¯re you doing here then?¡± Asked Garth as if he didn¡¯t already know. ¡°How¡¯s life after academy been treating you? Still working at the ¡®ol tavern? Got a girl now? I bet you do, you dog.¡±


    ¡°Life¡¯s been good, yes, all good on the whole life front,¡± said Arthur. ¡°I¡¯m here to apply for a position, as a matter of fact. I¡¯m sure you two have been through this whole thing before. Yup, I think I did pretty good in there. We could be coworkers soon.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I got offered the job right after graduation,¡± said Melissa.


    Of course she did.


    ¡°Alright, way to go, buddy!¡± Garth said. He tried to slap Arthur on the ass but hit him in the small of the back instead. ¡°Hey, maybe they¡¯ll even assign us to the same party.¡±


    Arthur cringed at the idea, hopefully not visibly.


    ¡°Yep, I like my chances,¡± he said. He made a show of glancing out the window to check where the sun was in the sky. ¡°Oh, would you look at the time? Can¡¯t talk for long, got somewhere else to be.¡±


    ¡°So you are still working at that dump,¡± Melissa said.


    ¡°Yeah, some people need to work for a living even before working for a living. We can¡¯t all rely on daddy¡¯s money to get us through uni or mommy¡¯s connections to get us a job.¡± Arthur spun and started speed walking to the exit before they could respond.


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t mind him, he¡¯s just jealous,¡± Garth said loud enough for him to hear.


    Arthur burst through the guild¡¯s front doors, and a cool autumn wind whipped his face, the sun beaming down on him from its zenith.


    Three more months, he reminded himself. He had promised that he would go job hunting for half a year after graduation before he decided to panic. Just in time for winter, too. He had hoped that he¡¯d be living in a magic-heated unit by then, although that was a bit of a stretch even if he had landed that job.


    He rounded a bend and was met with a picturesque view of the harbor. Even from here, you could see the big and little ships leaving the docks and sailing for the horizon. Most of the questing guilds were located in the innermost circle of the city, which was situated on a higher elevation so that the people here could literally look down on those on the outer circles.


    Arthur squinted but still couldn¡¯t pick out the outline of The Drunken Drake amongst the shanties and outhouses.


    In truth, he had several hours to kill before his shift at the tavern. But with nothing else to do, he began the long trek home.


    ~~


    Arthur left Upper Circle, squeezed through the crowded markets of Mid City, and meandered along the choking alleyways of Lowtown until he stopped in front of a tall, weather-beaten excuse of a building. A painting of a drake holding a frothy mug hung over the door. It was a dragon, technically, not a drake, but the second ¡®D¡¯ was faded so the words on the sign read ¡®The Drunken rake¡¯ so it was all the same.


    Home sweet home.


    He stepped through the door, and the tavern¡¯s signature stench of stale ale and dried vomit greeted him, the din of dozens of conversations ringing in his ears. What he didn¡¯t expect was the stout form of a middle-aged woman standing in front of him.


    ¡°Arthur, there you are,¡± said Tilda, the tavern¡¯s proprietor. ¡°Been looking everywhere for you.¡±


    ¡°I told you last night I had an interview today.¡±


    ¡°Interview? Don¡¯t tell me your noggin¡¯s still filled with delusions of grandeur. Goin¡¯ on epic quests to save the world. Pfft!¡±


    Arthur didn¡¯t have the energy to engage in this same back-and-forth again, so he said nothing. That a realization struck him.


    ¡°What¡¯re you looking for me for?¡± he asked. ¡°Night shift doesn¡¯t start for hours.¡±


    ¡°You, boy, have a visitor, and you¡¯ve been making her wait.¡±


    A visitor?


    He peered over Tilda¡¯s shoulder into the tavern. His eyes searched the crowd for anyone he might know. Through the cacophony, he picked out one notable sound: a set of heavy footsteps barreling down the staircase. He already knew who it was before he saw her, so when she reached the bottom, a grin was already plastered on his face.


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Sveta screamed.


    Half the tavern jumped in their seats.


    Arthur laughed. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too, Sveta.¡±


    ~~


    ¡°¡ªhad a maw wide enough to swallow a mammoth whole with a hundred razor blade teeth. I backed up and honed in on the space between its cold, alien eyes. With a mad dash, I launched myself at the beast, ax raised¡­¡±


    Sveta took a long, hard sip of ale.


    The audience collectively held its breath.


    She wiped the froth off her upper lip and slammed the mug down. ¡°I crashed into the creature¡¯s monstrous head and sliced its face clean in half. The tentacles writhed, releasing the sailors in their grip. Then the crew pulled me back on board, and the squid sunk back into the depths of hell.¡±


    The small crowd that had gathered gave her a round of applause.


    ¡°Thank you, thank you, I¡¯ll be here all day.¡± Sveta stood and took a bow.


    The tavern patrons dispersed and went back to their business, leaving Sveta and Arthur alone at the bar.


    ¡°I take it the new job¡¯s going well,¡± Arthur said.


    She leaned in and smiled. ¡°I may have embellished a bit.¡±


    Arthur laughed. ¡°Never change, Sveta, never change.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s going on with you? Still looking to join a guild?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡± He stared at the bottom of his empty mug and sighed. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need another drink.¡±


    Sveta slapped his back. ¡°They don¡¯t know what they¡¯re missing. Give it some time, you¡¯ll get in eventually.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m not so sure anymore. I know they¡¯d hire you in an instant, though.¡±


    Sveta spat the ale through her nostrils. ¡°Ha! Like you¡¯d ever see me working for those prancing pricks.¡±


    ¡°I thought so,¡± Arthur said. ¡°But I gotta say, I couldn¡¯t imagine you as a security guard for a merchant company.¡±


    ¡°Head of security,¡± she corrected. ¡°Besides, the pay is good. Not that I have time to spend it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving again?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow morning. For about a month.¡±


    ¡°Tough luck.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, that¡¯s life for you.¡± She stared off at the sea out the window.


    Arthur sat in silence with her for a few seconds.


    And then Sveta said all of a sudden, ¡°Now, Fareed as a professor, that you could imagine.¡±


    They laughed together just like the old times.


    ¡°You should see him in one of his lectures,¡± Arthur said. ¡°He¡¯s a natural.¡±


    ¡°I wish, but I have preparations to make tonight. Say hi to him for me if you see him, will you?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing. Though I don¡¯t think he has much free time these days either.¡±


    Sveta nodded. Then her expression softened, the smile disappearing as soon as it had appeared. ¡°And what about Adamu? How¡¯s he?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Ah, well, he seemed to be doing okay the last time I saw him. About as okay as you¡¯d expect.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°I think the farming life suits him,¡± Arthur said. ¡°Having a routine to follow every day seems to help. That and the calming peace of pastoral life, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Good, that¡¯s good.¡±


    Adamu was never really the same after Mei passed. But it was like his idol once told him, ¡®Things will get better with time.¡¯ Arthur just wished he was there so he could say those words back to Adamu.


    Several more moments passed without either of them saying anything. They didn¡¯t need to.


    Then, out of the silence, Sveta raised her mug. ¡°Here¡¯s to the good old days.¡±


    ¡°Cheers.¡± Arthur raised his own mug and clinked it with hers.


    His troubles suddenly felt small and silly. Mei wasn¡¯t just an adventurer, she was a hero. There was a difference. After all this time of chasing after guilds and contracts, he had forgotten which of the two he wanted to be.