Pub Talk

“It feels weird,” Frein said. “It’s like a big lump on my chest that I can’t get rid of.” The Emerald Guidance sat directly at his center, refusing to budge. It didn’t exactly bother him with regards to anything physical, but it made its presence known like drinking too much wine.

“Ah,” Kristel responded as they resumed their way to Midan. “That’s because you don’t have enough meiyal marks. How many do you have?”

Frein brought up his wrist. Gauging one’s own meiyal mark wasn’t as much as manually counting each unsealed one as it was with feeling the whole. Simply pointing his attention to it revealed six unsealed marks—one more than last week. He just couldn’t help moving his hand.

“Just six,” he said.

“The Emerald Guidance doesn’t have a minimum mark requirement for absorbing it, but as far as I’m aware, you need thirty-nine marks to integrate it in your system.”

“So, it’ll just stay here until I get thirty-nine marks?”

“Yep. It’s a bit annoying, but that’s one of the amazing things about that material—or the Colors of Power in general. You just have to bear with it for now.” Kristel smiled. “You’re lucky enough to find one basically handed to you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask for it, or talked me into giving it to you,” Frein said as they turned into a narrow street.

“I’m not that desperate.”

“So where exactly are we going?” He asked the Princess, trying to change the subject.

“The Big Mess,” Kristel replied. “It’s a pub. Master Midan owns it.”

“I thought he answers to the Monarch directly? How’s he managing a pub this far away?”

“His wife and daughter. You saved them today from that Nightmare.”

The distant cheers and music arrived along with his realization. “What a coincidence!”

“Yeah. I sent him a message as soon as they were safe,” Kristel said as they turned a corner approaching closer to the celebrations. “I guess that’s when he found you.”

“I got trapped in some sort of illusion after that Fallen sent me flying. If not for Midan, you might’ve had to fight it on your own.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot you constantly Mill, unlike the rest of us.”

“Kat said it was rude, but Schrodie said it only became rude because people nowadays are too lazy to practice the form.”

Kristel side-eyed him.

“The Gatekeeper’s words, not mine,” he said defensively. “Besides, Kat does it now too, anyway.”

“I guess…”

Finally, they saw an isolated two-story building made of finely garnished stones illuminated with lights that played along the cheers and laughter inside it. Patrons were coming in and out from the side entrance. Some even brought their drinks and food with them to dine on the tables outside. They saw the two and passed celebratory cheers.

Kristel stopped in front of the main door.

“What’s up?” Frein asked. The Princess looked hesitant, contemplating within herself.

“Be careful,” she began, holding the doorknob at the same time she affirmed herself. She ducked as soon as she opened the door, dodging a flying chicken bone that barely missed Frein.

“Ah, Princess Kristel! Welcome, sit anywhere you like.” They were greeted by a girl with scarlet hair that she tied in a pair of pigtails. Purple eyes sparkled with joy behind a pair of glasses. She wore a simple tunic and an apron that were amazingly clean despite the frantic mess of food flying all around her.

Bennie smiled and beamed as soon as she met eyes with Frein. “Hello, Frein! Didn’t take you for a two-timer. Or is it three?”

“Wow, the rumors sure go fast around here,” Frein said, smiling.

“Just pulling your leg,” Bennie teasingly stuck out her tongue. She stepped to one side, dodging a banana peel flying behind her, before regaining poise to address the Princess. “I recommend the second floor. It’s a strictly-no-throwing-food-around section.”

“I didn’t know you work here as well.” Kristel barely weaved away from a combination of half-eaten strudels and pies as she was led by a skipping Bennie. Frein dragged a drunkard to shield him from any splotches.

“Ah, the evacuation went as far as my home. Master Midan was kind enough to offer free food for tonight for the evacuees—since our dinner was disturbed and all.” She prepared the table on the second floor. Save for the three of them, the place was otherwise isolated. “Only made sense for me to help.”

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, Bennie,” Frein began as he and the Princess took their sits. “Are you related to Frill, by any chance?”

Bennie’s face instantly flushed like a tomato. “Oh, no, no!”

“What makes you say that?” Kristel asked with a scrutinizing eyebrow.

“Wait, am I the odd one here?” Frein casually pointed Bennie’s features mainly the eyes and the hair. “Same hair, same eyes. You two look like siblings to me.”

The flustered Bennie used a serving tray she carried to cover most of her face, shy eyes switched franticly between a curious Visitor and an amused Princess. “The Aria in Red is popular even among the girls. My hair just matured the same way as hers, but we’re not related. The eyes are a total coincidence!”

“You could pass for popular yourself,” Frein said, making Bennie turn redder. “But I guess you’re the shy type.” He smiled.

Then a detail caught his attention.

“Wait, did you say your hair matured?”

“Yours doesn’t do that?” Bennie asked.

“Well, not when we’re young usually. We dye it if we want to change colors. With age, sure, but we’re most likely somewhere in the fifties or more before ours turn completely white.”

“Ours just change colors,” Kristel clarified, understanding the situation clearer now. “Katherine’s hair was originally white, you know.”

Frein instinctively stood and slammed the table. “What? I need to see that!”

Bennie yelped and hid completely behind her serving tray. Kristel grinned with clear mischievous intentions.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I guess she didn’t share everything to you, yet! Ha! Take that.”

Frein returned the grin. “You can take this point. But I have many!”

“Umm…sorry, but can I please take your orders?” Bennie peeped from her tray, trying to diffuse the trivial competition. “If you need a menu, I can get them for you.”

“We’re here for Master Midan, can you let him know we’ve arrived?” Kristel said. “I’ll have a small meat pie and sweet wine,” She contemplated a little, her eyes fixed somewhere around Frein. “On second thought, I’ll have milk instead.” Her face turned sour.

Bennie’s face regressed from tomato red to a beaming brightness.

“You don’t like milk?” Frein connected the dots without sparing any effort. He internally commended Kristel for trying to overcome her weakness, no matter how trivial.

“Shut up!”

“If you add honey, it’ll taste better. Healthier, too,” he suggested, not minding the Princess’s aggressive tone.

Kristel sighed. “Add honey then.”

“Noted!” The waitress turned to Frein.

“I’ll have the same,” he said, turning his attention to the chaos downstairs. “Is it always like this here?”

“A bit more rowdy than usual,” Bennie answered with a smile. “The Big Mess likes to keep their customers drunk and happy with occasional bruises and memory lapses; nothing too drastic.” She sounded like narrating an advertisement. “I’ll be back with your orders.” She spun and made her way down, her pigtails wagged as she skipped around tables and flying leftovers.

“I like her.” Frein smiled. Kristel immediately sent him dagger stares. “Not like, like, but you know. Anyway, explain the hair.”

Kristel took a second to consider whether to give him a pass or not and eventually shrugged. “Nothing too significant about it, really. Sometimes, along with developing our meiyal systems, it affects our growth; it shows in the hair more often than not.”

“But not just the hair?”

“Some say the muscles, the height, bone strength, or whatever. Those weren’t proven. They’re just not as apparent as the change of hair color. In theory, it’s supposed to be inspired or catalyzed by something, but all we have are hypotheses. It’s not exactly interesting as far as research goes.”

“Interesting enough for me.”

“Seems so.” Kristel smiled. She seemed amused by how Frein enjoyed this little discovery. He didn’t mind.

“So, yours isn’t originally blue, then?”

“Black, same as Frill. I don’t exactly remember when mine turned blue or hers turned red. Liona’s…stayed the same.”

The mention of the name wasn’t intentional, and Frein could see she couldn’t help it. “You miss her.”

“Yeah. A lot.”

“Here you go!” A bubbly Bennie, oblivious to the dampened mood, saved the day. “Two meat pies and two warm glasses of honeyed milk. Midan will be with you shortly. He’s just making sure his wife and daughter are settled in. Just yell for me if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Bennie,” said the Princess. The waitress left a pitcher of water before waving goodbye.

The pie was barely wider than Frein’s palm, but he didn’t complain. They did ask for a small size. Besides, slicing it open revealed a juicy stack of meat.

“I don’t think this goes well with milk,” Kristel said.

Frein just laughed and helped himself with his share. By now, he was used to the high quality of meat produced here in Minaveil. But this was something different. A coagulation of fat—yet non-greasy—and aromatics sandwiched between thin layers of crusts. He devoured the pie within minutes and wondered if he should ask for a second helping.

Kristel wasn’t one to hold back as well—a trait that had caught Frein by surprise the first time they dined together. Not exactly a savage, but he expected her to deliver the usual prim and proper princess mannerisms he used to read about and see on movies.

Instead, he found himself staring at a girl casually putting chunks of meat and crust and barely chewing her food as she gawked at the entertainment below. She snickered at a balding elf who cracked joke lines emphasized by a string instrument Frein didn’t recognize—let alone the joke.

It took the Princess another good while before she noticed him staring. “W’ud’?”

“If I didn’t know better, I would’ve never taken you for a princess.”

Kristel swallowed her food. “You prefer the royalty kind? Backbreaking stiffness, wide-eyes, chin up, shoulders back, that kind of thing?” Kristel pointed a piece of meat at him with a fork before shoving it in her mouth.

“Wouldn’t say no to that from time to time.” Frein didn’t miss her suppressed snicker underneath all the chewing. “But I don’t mind this one either.”

“Well, I might have to drop the title soon, so don’t hold your breath.”

“Because of the Monarch’s orders?”

The Princess made a disappointing grunt. “With Tryvinal enlisting the support of more than half the nation, he’s pretty much guaranteed to inherit the crown.”

It didn’t make sense to Frein. “That’s just because you’re stuck here instead of going around on a campaign.”

“It’s fine,” she said as she took the final piece of pie with more gusto than she probably preferred. “I’m not cutout to be a leader anyway.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that, m’lass.” A rumbling voice echoed from the stairs, followed by heavy footfalls. Midan released a deep belch before reaching the top of the flight. “I’d much rather listen to ye than that arrogant fart. Feller’s just relyin’ too much on his Monarch’s Law. Watch ’em poor souls snap as soon as his hold lapses. Ye’ll get the crown yet. Maybe after a coup’ or somethin’.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Kristel said, passing an open chair for the dwarven man. “The pies never disappoint, Midan.”

“Bread ‘n butter from the very start, eh?” He lit a pipe and puffed it with enough discretion to lead the smoke away from his two guests.

“Sorry about the house,” Frein said, drinking from his milk while subtly asking the Princess to join her.

“Ahh, don’t worry ‘bout it, lad. I’ll rebuild it first thing tomorrow.”

“Oh, no problem, then.” The Visitor almost dismissed the statement for casual sarcasm until he studied the old dwarf. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Midan just gave him a smirk. “So, what can this old man do ye fer, eh?”

Frein moved on and glanced at the Princess. “You first,” Frein said.

She nodded. “Master, you said the Vanguard requires more time to become stable, right?”

“Aye. ‘bout a year, methinks.” Midan replied while waving at Bennie. The waitress downstairs amazingly caught the signal despite the chaos and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’m leaving you in-charge of Minaveil while I’m gone. You’ll have full authority over the province when we leave. I can trust you with that, right?”

“Talkin’ ‘bout state issues in me pub, quite outta character of ye, eh?”

“I just wanted to let you know ahead of time, Master.” Kristel took a sip from her glass. “We’re leaving in two days.” Her expression changed when she realized it was milk; a mixture of disgust quickly turning to amazement.

“Aye. Ye don’t have anythin’ to worry ‘bout. Minaveil’s close to me heart.”

Kristel smiled. “I’ll get the paperworks done later, and we’ll set a conference tomorrow night. I’ll also inform the High Palace.” She gave the signal to Frein before focusing on her milk.

“I have some questions about the wall.”

“Aye. Go ahead, lad.”

“It doesn’t behave anything like a Meiyal Art,” Frein started. “Is there some secret technique involved, or anything like that?”

“It ain’t no secret, lad.” Midan stretched an opened hand on his side which was snuggly met by a large mug of ale courtesy of Bennie. “Thanks, lass,” he said and chugged down almost half of it in one go.

He slammed the mug with a satisfied face and continued his explanation. “It be ancient. Discipline from time before there was Irista Nation.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Frein didn’t want to hope much. Based on what he had learned from Schrodie, meiyal disciplines evolved to become better and easier to use compared to their ancestors. There were few akin to the likes of the Perpetual-Layered Milling form—a Milling technique that was originally from before the Divine Severing and was named something else entirely—but even that underwent modernization.

He also considered its confidentiality. It would be understandable if Master Midan chose to keep the secrets of such a discipline from a random stranger. But the change in the master’s eyes, intrigued and excited as if he became younger by a couple of decades, was all the answer Frein needed to see to raise his expectations a bit.

“More than tell ye, lad. I’ll even show ye!” He finished his drink and slammed the mug back down again with newfound strength. “Their meal is on the house,” he told Bennie who came running confused. “I’ll check on me family real quick. Wait fer me at me house. Ye should come too, m’lass. I’ll give ye a closer look this time ‘round.”

As soon as Midan left, Frein asked for another glass of honeyed milk while looking at the Princess. It took her a while to finish the glass, long enough for Bennie to return.

“Did the honey work?” she asked.

“I think I remember asking for something like this when I was a kid,” the Princess said. “I don’t know why I stopped, but it feels kind of nostalgic.”

The waitress served the glass to Frein and smiled. “Well, it’s good to know you don’t have a problem with it anymore.”

“One more thing,” Frein interjected, “since it’s on the house, can I get a large meat pie for takeout?”

“We have fresh ones right out of the oven, but it’ll take them a while to rest,” the waitress wondered. “I can reserve one and you can come back for it if you want?”

“I’ll just ask Testra to pick them up,” Kristel said. “But just one, we don’t want to take too much out of Midan’s business especially since he’s already helped out a lot.”

“Wait, how are you going to ask Testra?” Frein asked, almost choking from his drink.

“That’s the neat thing about bonding with a yuma,” Kristel smiled and produced her namestone. “You don’t have to talk to them to feel each other’s needs.”

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