The next two days were a whirlwind of activity for The Shadow's Respite.

I interviewed Jessara, Milo's sister, and found her a good fit for our team. She had a friendly demeanor but was a little droll. I offered her the job on a trial basis, but deep down, I knew she'd be a valuable addition to our staff, and would soon be hired on.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Vel'Naris." Jessara beamed. "I was tired of working so many jobs. None of them paid well."

I pondered that. Had I offered her too much money?

She was happy to try the job on trial, but I hoped she would work out. Jessara already had a lot of server experience and was Milo's sister. She should fit right in, assuming they didn't first strangle each other.

"Milo, why don't you show her the ropes for the next few days?"

Milo took her to the kitchen, and Jessara uttered a loud, shocked gasp.

"Everything alright in there?"

Jessara reappeared and shook her head. "Um. Um. There are um… green skins in there."

"Oi. Keep yer bodice closed. Ain't never seen a goblin before?" Lady Churl appeared, worryingly, carrying her murder-chef knife, the blade that Doan had specially made for her after she'd helped us capture and subdue Thalindra. At least Lady Churl spoke with a toothy goblin grin.

Jessara backed away.

"I did mention this, right?" I asked Jessara.

"Yeah. But I thought they would be, I don't know…"

Grondak lumbered into the room. He was a few inches taller than Jesarra but didn't try to tower over her. Instead, he stared at her, and his mouth curved into a look I'd never seen on an orc before.

"Grondak?" I asked.

The orc looked at me, then Jessara, but didn't speak.

I scratched my head.

Lady Churl chuckled.

"What? What's so funny?" Jessara demanded, crossing her arms.

"Reckon he's funny." Lady Churl jerked a thumb at Grondak.

"Nothing, see! Uh! Nothing!" the orc proclaimed.

Grondak shook his head and went back to the kitchen.

Then it dawned on me, and I couldn't help but let out an, "Ohhhhh…"

"What?" Jessara looked between Lady Churl and me.

I lowered my voice and said, "I think he finds you attractive."

Lady Churl howled with laughter and went back to the kitchen.

I expected Jessara to look disgusted, but she pushed her hair back and said, "Really?"

"Jessara!" Milo admonished her with a laugh.

"Shut up, Milo, and just teach me my new job."

This should be interesting.

Over the next few days, I noticed our profit margins shrinking. The cost of additional staff and high-quality ingredients were taking its toll. I realized we needed to find ways to boost our income.

"Lady Churl," I called out one evening after closing. "What do you think about reopening the food wagon for lunch?"

She scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Reckon that's not a bad idea, boss. Might bring in extra coin again."

"With Jessara, can we pull off both meals daily?"

"Ain't gonna be a problem. Wossat you say? We got the tools, we got the talent?"

"We have the tools, we have the talent, yep," I said, and hoped it was true.

There was something weighing on me. For the past few days, I had been sleeping less and less. Whenever I did manage to drift off, my dreams had grown increasingly vivid and unsettling.

One morning, I jerked awake from a particularly haunting nightmare. In the dream, I had been Lord Morthisal again, standing atop a hill overlooking a village in a blighted, desolate land. My arms wove intricate patterns, staff in hand, as I called forth the newly massacred villagers. They rose around me, empty-eyed ghouls hungry for battle.

As consciousness returned, I realized something was terribly wrong. I wasn't lying on my bed, but instead hovered a foot above the floor. Panic seized me and I flailed wildly, my arms pinwheeling through the air.

As my sleeve fell back, I glimpsed a patch of ashen gray skin on my forearm – the same hue as my former self. My heart pounded in my chest as I crashed to the floor, the impact jolting me fully awake.

I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Looking down at my arm again, I saw only my usual skin tone. The ashen patch had vanished as if it had never been there.

"What in the hell?" I muttered.

Maybe the skin thing had been part of my nightmare. I quickly threw my clothes off and inspected my body. No patches of weirdly colored skin. My hands fingered the pendant and I considered taking it off. Focusing my mind, I tried to delve into The Heart of Shadows, but nothing called back to me.

I shook off the weird dream, dressed quickly, , and put the nightmare behind me, eager to start the day. I froze in shock as I descended the stairs to the tavern proper.

The main room looked as though a rampaging orc had torn through it. Tables and chairs lay overturned. Luckily we hadn't set the tables the night before.

Lady Churl stood amid the chaos, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She looked up at me and shrugged. "Hey, boss. Reckon we got a problem."

"What happened?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I surveyed the damage.

"Wish I knew," she replied, picking up a chair. "Heard crashing a few minutes ago. Woke me up something fierce. Came up and found this mess."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I stepped carefully through the chaos. Had we been robbed? But nothing seemed to be missing; it was just... thrown around.

"Any sign of forced entry?" I asked, examining the door and windows.

Lady Churl shook her head. "Nah, everything's locked up tight. Whatever did this came from inside. Maybe Grondak?"

"Grondak!" I yelled. "Hey, Grondak! Are you here?"

I walked to the doors and double-checked the locks. Lady Churl was right, this hadn't been the young orc, and no one had forced their way in. If they had, they probably would have had a surprise in the shape of a very protective Lady Churl and her knife.

My body shuddered as I remembered my dream and the moment of levitation upon waking. Could I have done this? Was my former self, Lord Morthisal, somehow trying to reassert control?

"Boss?" Lady Churl's voice snapped me back to reality. "You've gone pale as a ghost."

Speaking of ghosts. I reached into my pocket and slid on my ring. I'd taken to removing it at night after waking up one night to see Lady Ophelia lurking around my room while I slept.

Garin and Ophelia appeared.

"Hey, guys. Did you see what happened here?"

"I most certainly did," Ophelia said, pointing toward the ceiling and then the center of the chaos. "Do you know what lies right there, darling?" she asked me.

"Um."

"It's your bedroom, lad. I believe it's right under your bed," Garin added.

"Well, shit," I muttered.

Lady Churl looked at me questionably.

"I've been having dreams of being him."

"Oh. That ain't good," Lady Churl said.

"Your goblin friend has it wrong. Becoming Morthisal again would be delicious, darling," Ophelia simpered.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Garin told Ophelia.

"Truly? Was it stupider when someone convinced you that you would be able to kill me and Morthisal? Because that ended so well," Ophelia said.

Garin turned away with a grumpy look.

They had told their tale when Zyn was still here. Garin, Ophleia, and Zyn had ended up in a strange battle that had killed all three of them.

"I need some air," I said. "But first, we should pick all this up."

"Aye." Lady Churl nodded.

I'd gotten lucky, and nothing was broken, although a few chairs had fresh dents. I picked up the last overturned chair and set it right, surveying the room with a sigh of relief. Lady Churl had already repositioned most of the tables, and the tavern was starting to look normal again.

"Thanks for the help," I said to her, wiping a line of sweat from my brow.

"Good way to wake up, I reckon. Moving furniture." She pointed toward a chair near the wall. "That one's got a busted arm."

I walked over and examined the damage. The wooden arm support had partially split from the seat. "Damn," I muttered. "I'll have to ask Caden to come by and fix this."

"Reckon he'll get it fixed right up. You know how to prevent this kinda thing?"

I shook my head. "I don't. But I know who might be able to help me. I need to talk to Seraphina about this... unique problem I'm having."

Lady Churl nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Alright, boss. But what about the food wagon? We opening for lunch today?"

I glanced out the window. The sun was already high in a cloudless sky, promising a beautiful day. "Yeah, it's perfect weather for it. Are you okay running the kitchen for a few hours? You can get Milo and Jessara to help with prep."

"Right," Lady Churl said. "I'm on it, boss."

I left the tavern and headed towards Seraphina's shop. As I passed by Hammer & Hearth Blacksmith, I noticed the doors were wide open, and a wagon loaded with large burlap sacks was parked out front. Doan was out there, hefting bags and carrying them inside.

"Morning, Doan," I called out.

He turned, a grin spreading across his face. "Varix! Good to see you up and about so early."

"Need a hand?" I offered, eyeing the pile of bags.

Doan nodded. "I'd appreciate it, but fair warning – these bags are full of coke. They're heavy."

I paused, confused because coke could mean a lot of things. "Coke?"

Doan explained. "It's a type of fuel we use in the forge. Made from coal, but burns hotter and cleaner."

"I learn something new every day," I told him.

"Learning something new daily is a good way to live your life, my friend."

I nodded, reached over, and pulled a bag off the pile. It was just as heavy as it looked. I could have told him I was in a hurry to avoid a little back-breaking work, but I felt like some physical labor might help me clear my mind. The Morthisal dream still hung in the back of my head.

Hefting the bag, I shrugged it onto my shoulder with a grunt, shuffled it inside, and flopped it onto the pile. The coke in the bags had a few sharp edges. I rubbed my shoulder and went back for another.

As we worked, Doan continued his explanation. "See, when you heat coal without air, it drives off impurities. What's left is almost pure carbon. It burns real hot, perfect for smelting iron ore."

"Fascinating. So regular charcoal doesn't burn hot enough?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Not clean enough," Doan said.

"Look at me, learning about melting iron," I said and dropped another bag on the pile.

Doan chuckled. "Aye. There's a lot more to it than just hitting metal with a hammer. The right fuel can make all the difference in the quality of your work."

We finished unloading the wagon. I rolled my shoulders and knew I'd be sore tomorrow.

"Thanks for the help, Varix," Doan said, clapping me on the shoulder. "I owe you a drink at the tavern."

I returned the gesture, grinning. "I own the tavern, Doan."

"Aye, but I can still buy my friend an ale."

I laughed. "Know something, Doan? I'll take you up on that, but don't feel like you have to. You and your mother have been really good to me. If not for you two, I wouldn't have been able to purchase The Shadow's Respite in the first place."

Doan chuckled and said, "I have a feeling you would have figured it out without me."

"Maybe. Have a good day, Doan." I shook his hand.

"You too, Varix."

It felt great to stop and help my friend, and I’d gotten a little exercise out of it. My shoulders and back were going to be sore tomorrow. I could go back to the tavern and sip some restorative, but the herbalist had warned me to go easy on them so I didn't build up a tolerance.

Setting out for the Gem Emporium again, I came across a hand-printed flier on thick paper hanging from a lamppost near the market. I stopped and read the text.

> Proclamation of Market Day

>

> On the third day hence, as the sun rises,

> Everspring shall host a Market Day of great repute.

>

> Come one, come all, to behold:

>

> * Wares from far and wide

>

> * Crafts of our finest artisans

>

> * Spectacles of skill and craft

>

> Gaze upon glassblowers at their trade!

> Marvel at the might of our blacksmiths!

> Savor the creations of culinary masters!

> Sample the fluffy creations by baking artisans!

>

> By order of the Town Steward,

> Roland Hightown

I reread the parchment, and the pieces didn't take long to fall into place. We needed to drum up more business for The Shadow's Respite, and what better way to do it? I would stop by Roland Hightown's office and inquire about holding a cooking demo and offering free samples.

With a satisfied smile at the idea, I set off again for Seraphina's shop. Due to our work schedule, we hadn't seen each other in a couple of days. I hoped she wouldn't mind me dropping in without notice.

I banged on the door and waited.

Waited some more.

Maybe she had stepped out.

I tried knocking again.

As I turned away to head back to the tavern, Seraphina screamed from somewhere inside The Gem Emporium.