It’d been at least two hours since Kalos escaped the Pearl Dancer’s Inn. He took another drink of the cloudy, greenish liquid from the bottle he’d traded a few coins for a little while earlier. Some half-drunk merchant who still hadn’t closed shop for the night near Gotleff Square called him over to offer a bottle of his “finest Green Fairy” for only three Tence. He figured he didn’t have anything else to lose, so he was all-too-happy to accept the offer on a whim.

“Ha!” a gaunt man in baggy, ill-fitting clothes yelped, “Seven on’da spot!” Two others who were playing snarled at him while one raised his fist in anger over having lost yet another bet for the third time in a row.

Kalos had played the game a few times, but never with real money. It was just a pastime he had occasionally partaken of when he got bored, but “Sailors’ Dice” was actually one of the most popular betting games in all of Ceirlan. It also happened to be one of the most common ways people could squander their entire wealth in just a few short rounds, regardless of class or status. “Betting with dice on the King’s soil” had been strictly forbidden for many generations for that very reason. The very best players were simply those who knew how to bet and lose just enough to keep the others from trying to slit their throats afterwards to get their money back. Fortunately, there seemed to be no such players present at the old man’s makeshift table in the crooked little alley Kalos had just stumbled into.

As he approached, the two losers decided to leave while complaining to one another about their terrible luck. They walked right by Kalos without even acknowledging his presence and continued bickering about their failed strategies and what they should’ve done differently.

The old player was sitting alone next to the large wooden barrel upon which the game had been played, greedily stuffing his pockets with his small pile of winnings. The old man paused, turning a suspicious, sidelong glance his way. A spark of interest lifted the man’s scowl as soon as he saw the scuffed-up bottle of dubious liquid he was carrying with him.

“Ey, lad. S’at a spot’o green fairy you’ave there? Ya can try yer luck wit jus’dat if ya want...” The man eagerly licked his lips as he waited for his answer.

Alarm writhed in Kalos' gut, but he really wanted to give it a try. Anything that might distract him from the woes of life would be a welcome respite. He thoughtlessly lifted the bottle to take another sip, prompting the old man to pound his fist against the barrel in anger as he shouted, “Oy! Ya can’t bet an empty bottle ya dunny!” Kalos flinched, recognizing his mistake before lowering the bottle a little too quickly.

“Oh, right... Sure, I’ll give it a go.” He lightly walked over to a crate laying on its side next to the barrel and set his bottle atop the betting field as he took a seat. The old man examined it carefully, appraising its worth in his mind. Even though only three-fifths of the bottle remained full, Kalos’ head had been swimming since his first taste. The enchanted affects the green nectar had on consumers was one of the reasons it was such a popular choice. Just one sip had the desired affect, but it would get stronger and stronger with every taste.

“Alright,” the old man grumbled with a toothy grin before raising his voice a little louder, “One Tence, then!” He slapped the coin on top of the barrel beside the bottle, immediately drawing a huffy reply from Kalos, “Hey, I paid seven for it! It’s worth at least half that!” His words were clear but his head was not. He felt like the amount he claimed to have paid was incorrect, but the man’s offer wasn't exactly fair, either.

The old man must’ve mistaken the boy’s headache-induced reaction for outrage. He leaned back from the forcefulness of his words before giving him a critical look.

The gambler slowly leaned forward, “Three’s fair, then!” He added a couple more coins atop the barrel and quickly scooped the dice into a cracked, wooden cup before rattling them around a few times.

After giving the cup one last shake, he flipped it over and let the cubes roll out onto the barrel's surface. After clacking to a halt, one revealed an etching of a small, golden man with a ridiculous smile on his face while the other two revealed the consecutive numbers of three and four. It was nearly the best roll one could hope for.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Seven!” Kalos chirped. He chortled at the winning combination and reached over to grab the coins. The man’s face was expressionless except for a crease of irritation that suddenly appeared across his forehead.

“Oy! Double ar no’ting, yeah?” He was offering to bet another three Tence if the boy would simply let the bet ride one more toss.

Kalos was feeling loopy, but he knew he didn’t want to take another drink as he felt the effects slowly intensifying according to how many sips he had taken over the last several minutes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kalos thought he saw someone hiding in the shadows, but when he looked over, nothing was there but a dim torch with an awkwardly-flickering flame. He quickly looked back to the barrel as if the old man might try to swipe his coins when he wasn’t looking and narrowed his eyes dramatically. He carefully rubbed his temples with one hand, deciding that winning back all the money he paid while also getting to keep the bottle seemed like a great opportunity after all.

“Sure, ol’man. Again!” He didn’t look at his opponent for several seconds as his anxiety intensified over the sense that someone was watching from the shadows. He blinked, looking up in time to see the dice drop.

The old man spat on the ground in anger after the toss yielded another seven. “Aelfain’s bloody stool! A’right, squit. You bet’ginst me now! What’ll t’be?” He didn’t have a problem letting the man try to get his money back. It was only fair in such a game.

Kalos snatched the bottle and mindlessly took another drink to celebrate despite his previous commitment to leave the rest untouched. A rush of excitement and pleasure at having beaten the old man at his own game burned in his chest almost as much as the drink.

With Sailor’s Dice, the newest person sitting at the betting table was considered to be the challenger. If they won two in a row, they would become the victor and then the victor would get to set the amount of the bets for everyone else. It was a lot of power to have as a winner for one could quickly push other players out of the game if they played aggressively enough. But the victor couldn’t be too aggressive for the other players might quickly decide to slit their throat and be done with the game altogether if they grew angry enough over their losses.

“The bet’s five Tence, ol’man. How does’at sound?” He didn’t realize he was beginning to slur his words or that his mind was now losing its ability to exercise sound judgment, but the old man didn’t seem to notice either.

“Fine!” He pulled five coins out of a small money pouch tied to an old, silk belt around his waist and dropped them on the barrel with the rest.

The one coin that remained after the previous bet fell to the ground. He tried to scoop it back into his pocket as quickly as possible while glaring at Kalos as if it were his fault somehow.

After staring at him for several seconds, his expression softened. He quickly popped the dice into the cup before shaking it around as the old man had earlier, and carelessly dropped them onto the barrel. The laughing man appeared again, but now a pair of threes sat beside him, signifying that he’d lost the roll.

The gambler laughed with glee before reaching over to snatch his ten coins from the barrel. Kalos raised his hands, though, “Oy! Double or nothing!”

The old man paused, eyeballing him suspiciously. “Yer’a few Tence short, boy.”

“I have more’n that’n my pockets!” At least he thought he did, anyway. He wasn’t thinking very clearly, but it seemed to make sense to keep playing this time.

“A’right. Put it out’den! The bottle don’t count!” A bead of sweat ran down the old man’s face as he waited for the boy to react.

Kalos quickly fished around inside his jerkin to where a small, hidden coin pocket was located. It jingled a little as he pulled out a whole silver coin, the equivalent of ten Tence, and held it up triumphantly in front of the old man’s face. The bets now consisted of ten Tence with the promise of a double payout to the old man if Kalos lost again.

Technically, he was still the victor, so he shoved the dice into the cup one last time and gave them a good shake before dumping them out on the barrel again.

“Devil’s Gaze!” Kalos gave a breathy chuckle while the old man grumbled. He had rolled two ones and a laughing man. The boy was still the Challenger, and he had won it all.

Kalos quickly plucked the coins from the barrel and dropped them into a small, tight pocket on his chest.

“We’aint don yet!” The old man reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of coins. Several Tence and two silvers rolled around on top of the barrel after the old man angrily slapped them down and began sorting through them.

“That’s a lot of coin, boys.”

Kalos pivoted toward the newcomer while the old man continued counting. He couldn’t decide whether he was hallucinating or an angel had just materialized right in front of him.

©2024, K. M. Plum, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED