The common room was almost empty. Out of 20-something tables only four were occupied, all of them with seats remaining. Never before had he been able to see what the Punchy Boar’s floor looked under all that sawdust and filth. In the year or so he had spent in the inn, this was by far the quietest morning. Was it Rest Day already?
He asked the sleepy-eyed barmaid currently shambling in his general direction.
“Hey Anna. What day is this?”
“What?”
“Is it Rest Day?”
“Think so. Dunno. I’m too tired to remember. Anyway, I’m gonna go get some shuteye. Lia’ll bring you some grub in a minute. Goodnight Vic.”
“The night is already over.”
“Fuck off, you know what I meant.”
When Lia brought him his breakfast he asked the old cook the same thing.
“No, Rest Day is the day past tomorrow. Can’t blame you for asking though, this is the worst business day we’ve had in half a decade.”
“Is it that bad?”
“It is far, far from enough to make us go bust, but yes.”
Victor groaned his displeasure between mouthfuls of bread and some fish-like creature with way too many teeth.
“Say kid, aren’t you late for your job?”
“Mrrhhrm” He washed down the last of his breakfast with a swig of beer. “Sorry. What time is it?”
“The bell tolled eight a good while ago.”
“Fuck!”
Victor took a last sip of the vaguely alcoholic barley juice, and sprinted out the door like a man possessed. He could hear the old matron yell a question at him, but all he understood was something about a square.
When he first arrived to Banno Victor felt a strange combination of fear and elation. For the first time in his life, he was free to decide his own fate.
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As sheltered kids generally do, he decided the best way to express his freedom was to drink. So he decided to have beer for breakfast because he could. By the time he got tired of it the innkeeper, his wife, the cooks and the waiters had already assumed that he just loved to have ale for breakfast. He felt so embarrassed that he would rather die than admit he didn’t enjoy it in the least.
Victor reflected on what it meant to be an adult when his bladder started getting dangerously full halfway to work.
He was both worried and relieved by the street’s near emptiness. On one hand it meant that he could piss in an alley. On the other hand, it made him feel bad about his lack of awareness about the local customs. Or politics, he wasn’t sure. The square was nowhere near his workplace, so he couldn’t go take a peek and asking a random stranger would just be awkward.
The Scribe’s Guild was packed.
People were coming and going like there was no tomorrow, many of which he was quite sure weren’t even scribes. Victor put two and two together and grimaced. He may be oblivious to his surroundings, but he wasn’t that stupid.
The Guilds had somehow fucked up, the Lord (or maybe his retainers) couldn’t calm the masses, and now something probably bad (for his job stability, not for the overwhelming majority of the population) was brewing in the plaza.
With a bitter taste in his mouth, he took a deep breath and walked in.
Evard greeted him almost immediately, to both his joy and consternation. Again, he wasn’t stupid. If the old mage charged with caring for the library was near the door, it meant they were quite scared of an imminent attack. Or maybe overreacting.
Who was he kidding, he was talking about the Scribes Guild. Of course they were overreacting.
“Are you okay, kid?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
At least he wasn’t going to be reprimanded for his late arrival. Hooray.
“So, what’s going on?”
“You didn’t know?”
Shit. He just had to go and open his mouth, now he had no excuse for being late.
“No. I tried to see what was happening in the plaza, but on the way there I realized I was going to be late, so I turned back and ran.”
“There’s no shame in being afraid, kid. I am too.”
Somehow, lying had made Evard open up. Wonderful. Fantastic. Just what his conscience needed.
“EVERYONE. TO THE MAIN HALL,” someone yelled.
“Hurry up kid, they’ll snatch up all the best seats.”
Victor couldn’t help but just stare dumbfounded at the librarian’s face. The librarian stared back.
“Ha ha ha!”
“BAHAHA!”
Edvard laughed. Victor laughed. They pushed and shoved their way to the main hall. When a fat fur merchant wearing so much jewelry it hurt to look at protested, the Custodian of the Library just stuck out his tongue and kept going.
The merchant looked at Victor, the anger making his face redden at a frightening pace. Victor smiled sheepishly. And the most magical thing happened: the man laughed. He laughed so hard he fell on his ass and had to be helped up, wheezing and coughing and still laughing.
The woman who helped him giggled. The scribes laughed. Everyone in a ten meter radius laughed.
The glorified cartel was a wonderful place to work in.