‘Did that leech overfeed again?’
Exill woke up the next morning feeling incredibly groggy and summoned the Card to find his vitality around 90%. That gluttonous demon had drunk twice the amount of blood that was usually permitted, prompting the need for another discussion on boundaries. He grunted as he stood up, steadying himself on the wall as a wave of dizziness passed.
Exiting the room, he looked to the left to find Luna humming as she sliced bread, and the remainder of last night’s crab stew could be seen heating over a small fire. Her golden hair was up in a bun, revealing the slender lines of her neck.
“What are you so happy about?”
She looked up in surprise, her knife slipping and shallowly slicing her thumb. Exill reached for the nearby dish towel as blood welled up from the cut and lightly compressed it with a clean towel.
“I’m sorry I startled you, it’s just that… you seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
It was true. The slave had left for the Labyrinth early in the morning, leaving her and Exill all alone. She was looking forward to breakfast with just the two of them together.
Luna realized he was lightly holding her hand in a familiar manner; an unbidden memory of Exill gently treating one of his ‘fan club’ suitors surfaced. However the comparison ended there, his hair was dishevelled and messy, and there was genuine concern in his eyes instead of the professional smile he displayed to all his patients.
“Ah. The stew,” Exill looked over his shoulder to find the stew in a rolling boil, he carefully nudged it to the side, away from the direct heat of the fire. His actions brought reprieve to the flustered Elf, and she examined him while holding her wrapped thumb to her chest.
“Did you sleep well? Your slave went out early in the morning saying something about you being in no condition to fight, are you feeling unwell?”
Exill nodded. Envy probably realized her mistake and escaped early to avoid another one of his lectures, “Yeah I’m alright, why don’t you sit down and I’ll finish slicing the bread, then we can eat together.”
He brought the still bubbling stew to the table and ladled it equally between them. The meal was one of the best he ever had, and the seasoning had seeped into the crab’s tender meat overnight causing it to melt in his mouth.
“I can’t believe how good this is, you did a fantastic job on the stock,” he complimented the chef while dunking bread into the shallow broth.
“I know right? Still, it could be better, Nana always used to put a dash of the innards and it really deepens the flavour…”
Luna suddenly remembered her grandma and took a few moments to blink her tears away. Exill pushed his dish aside and reached out to comfort her wounded hand, “Hold on, I’ll go downstairs and bring up a clean bandage and salve. You can leave the dishes to me.”
The rest of early morning was spent treating her thumb and cleaning up the dishes. Forbidden from getting her hand wet, Luna happily brushed his hair from behind while he scrubbed the cauldron in the sink. Exill elbowed her away playfully, conscious of her bosom pressing against his back, “I can brush my own hair; you have your own things to do.”
“I’ve never seen you brush your hair, have you grown taller by the way?”
The two had been about the same height when they first met but his shoulders now came up to her chin. She stopped combing and embraced him warmly from behind, surprising Exill with the intimate gesture.
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“Thank you for coming back by the way. I missed this.”
“Yeah…” He relaxed and continued scrubbing at a burnt fleck that wouldn’t come off. The two stood together in comfortable silence until he spoke up again, “I’ll be going to the Arena to accept the duel. I would also like to drop by the Royal Library since it’s nearby. Can I borrow 1000 denars? I heard you need a deposit to read the books.”
She squeezed him playfully from behind. Summoning courage whose source was unknown, she made a counterproposal, “You want an advance on your wages? Only if you give your boss a k-kiss on the cheek.”
Exill turned around and kissed her on the forehead, wiping his sudsy hands gleefully on her back. He grinned, “I’m not asking for an advance, just borrowing it temporarily, so you will have to settle for that, boss”.
He followed the bewildered maiden down the stairs to the safe, where she fumbled with it three times before withdrawing the single gold coin. He pocketed it, as well as the challenge letter and prepared to leave the clinic.
“I’ll return this in a few hours!” he waved and closed the door behind him while Luna touched her flushed cheeks wondering if this wasn’t another one of her lewd dreams.
‘Is this my first kiss?’ she pressed a palm against her fluttering chest.
***
Exill moved swiftly through the back alleyways, keeping the sun and Labyrinth Tower as a directional reference. He would have to walk nearly thirty minutes up north to reach the Arena.
‘Did I do the wrong thing? A peck on the forehead barely qualifies as a kiss right?’ He questioned if some imaginary boundary hadn’t been crossed with his impulsive action. Still, he was more impressed with how the shy elf maiden had grown to such a point where she could make jokes like that. He still fondly remembered her cute “Haah?!” when he first held her hand to form a Party in that first night when intruders had broken in.
‘Actually, holding hands is probably a bit lewder than a kiss on the forehead,’ he shook his head with mirth and before he knew it, the Arena could be glimpsed over the rooftops up ahead.
It was four storeys tall and decorated with arches and columns, colourful banners adorning the plinths at each interval. He exited the alleyway into a bustling square, where betmakers and vendors sold their services and wares.
“Place your bets here! The great Teodor versus the exotic Kalaya, a contest of skill against brutal savagery…”
“Enhance your love life, Roleplays galore! Ladies love this replica of the mask worn by Untash the Barbarian!”
Exill was curious as he passed the many stalls catering to couples. Apparently the Arena was a popular dating spot, and a lot of the vendors were happy to anticipate their needs, both real and imagined.
He walked up to a series of tents butted against the arena walls. There were clerks selling tickets to various events held in the Arena. He examined a lurid hand painted poster titled, ‘Forbidden Love: The Wolf and the Ranger’. It depicted a wounded wolfman carrying an unconscious elf maiden in a state of undress.
“Huh, I guess they perform plays here as well.”
He was about to ask the clerk for directions when another poster caught his eye. It was titled ‘My Vampire Master’. It depicted a chained woman collapsed in her nightshift, reaching out towards a handsome man with red hair looking indifferently down at her. This was too good to pass up, he knew Envy would hate it.
“I would like two afternoon tickets for ‘My Vampire Master’, and could you tell me where I can register for duels?”
“That would be twenty Denars, please arrive fifteen minutes before the first bell for the play, and contestant registrations are processed down to your right,” The clerk gestured to an unassuming side entrance in the Arena. Exill pocketed the tickets that were actually clay tokens with an elaborate mural and number stamped on them.
‘Manufacturing paper would be such a lucrative side business,’ he mused.
As a former mechanical engineer, he had many such ideas. He often daydreamed about the requisite technologies, and how magic enchantments could enhance modern designs. His own paralyzing scalpel was an excellent example of the synergies capable. But as always, he was limited by time and capital.
‘I’ll start inventing once I become an [Enchanter],’ he happily thought as he entered the Arena side entrance. After descending a flight of stairs, he was ushered into a waiting room and swiftly greeted by a clerk in charge of registrations.
“Mister Exill? Please step into my office.” The Clerk led him into a small room and sighed heavily while sitting down. Thumbing a sheaf of parchment from the pile on his left, he slid it over to the Witchdoctor, “Please confirm that you were not unduly coerced and have sought alternative remedies before arriving at this form of dispute resolution.”
Exill grimaced as he nodded at the Clerk’s question. If being disgraced and facing expulsion from the Inner City wasn’t coercion, he didn’t know what was. Paying lip service to fairness and impartiality was the same whichever World you were in; the rich played by a different set of rules.
Scanning the length of the [Notarized Contract], Exill frowned as he inspected the terms of the duel.