“Cill…” Darko said, his gaze towards the empty benches. A single folded piece of parchment sat where our clothes and belongings used to. “You didn’t learn any spells of invisibility, did you?”

“No?” I said softly.

“No spatial manipulation tricks?” Darko asked. “Remy, perhaps, taught you levitation?”

“Um, no?” I repeated, my heart starting to beat.

Darko stared at me for a moment. “Where the hell is our stuff?”

I stood stiff and offered an oblivious shrug, hoping I somehow misunderstood the situation. Out of all the things we could see stolen, surely our clothes weren’t what I’d lost.

Without my sling bag, without my dad’s Metallica shirt, I had nothing. I owned literally nothing. The last of my memoirs from home, gone. I couldn’t have lost those too, right?

Darko picked up the parchment and revealed its notes. “Ah, shit. We’ve been swindled.”

“What does it say?” I managed to ask.

“I can’t read,” Darko said. He took a large towel from the racks and tied it around his waist, then tossed another towel to me. “This is bad. They took my fucking sword. And the invitation to the King’s audience. Also whatever you kept in your satchel. I was too naive.”

Blood rushed to my head as I tied the towel around my waist, reality slowly kicking in. This was really happening? Our goddamned clothes were stolen?

I had nothing. Everything I owned. Stolen or destroyed, left behind in a world light years from here.

Darko stepped to the eerily vacant lounge with a grimace. The burly bouncer was missing along with our shoes. In his place, two curious women peeked in from the front doors. They flinched at the sight of Darko, who walked topless with nothing but a towel to hide his privates, anger outright oozing out of his body.

“I’d find a different bathhouse if I were you,” Darko told them. “This one is operated by a bunch of thieving paint sniffers.”

The startled women complied with haste and turned around, eager to get us out of their sight.

“These fuckers got us good,” Darko said. “My sword alone is worth more than this collapsing trash hole of a bathhouse. The owners could abandon their careers and escape the city, and it would be well worth it.”

“What do we do?” I tried not to let panic show. Darko’s anger made me uncomfortable.

“We can’t chase them,” Darko said. “The slums of Arkber have no walls or fences, and certainly no tolls for coming in and out. We have no chance of watching their escape. This letter could very well be a distraction for us to waste time. But I don’t think we have any choice but to take the bait. We’ll bring the letter to the girls, and we’ll damn hope these thieves are dumb enough to offer us a second chance.”

“And… how will we do that?” I asked. “We have no clothes? We can’t step out of here!”

“Of course we can,” Darko said. To prove his words, he stepped onto the streets through the front doors. With no shoes to protect his skin, body still dripping water, he ushered me to follow. “We are in Arkber. Nobody cares. Now, we have to act quickly. The appointment is scheduled three hours from now.”

***

I should not have made a single Shiela’s damned promise, I thought, emotions ranging everywhere from despair for the future to the embarrassment of the present. My bare feet scraped against cracks in the cobblestone. I watched my step for debris and pebbles, or for anything else that could cut my feet.

I held the towel in place with my hand to ensure that my only cover wouldn’t fall off during the trip. The number of curious eyes from onlookers had doubled from half. Everyone and their grandma stared at me and Darko, as if we were some goddamned cartoon characters performing live action.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Luckily, the inn Darko had booked was closer than the walk from the courtyard. Somehow, the wooden inn was even less appealing in style than Huss’s guild. The inn nailed the dangerous feeling of a building too far past its expiration date. We stepped inside.

The plump innkeeper lounged behind his desk, watching over a vacant canteen. He yawned, then spotted us and fixed his posture.

“Are they here?” Darko asked.

“Room forty-three on the last floor,” the innkeeper said. He noted our lack of clothes, but Darko’s demeanor was enough to dissuade further questions.

With a nod, Darko moved to the stairs. I followed. The creaky steps didn’t help my nerves. The girls’ voices sounded through the walls as we stepped further.

“Booked a stay?” Remy said. “That’s what he said, wasn’t it? I didn’t expect him to book the entire inn for himself! Is this how you two usually operate?”

“It comes in handy with the bigger cities,” Shena’s quieter voice said. “More freedom to talk without neighbors listening in, so long as the innkeeper doesn’t personally hire spies. However, this means we’re often stuck with the cheapest residences. Renting an entire hotel gets expensive, no matter what we’re paid.”

Darko, frowning and without knocking, burst into the room. “We’ve got problems,” he said.

“Darko?” Remy stood from her seat. “Cill? Where are your clothes?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Darko said. “Turns out, my trusty strategy of bribing public services for private use was not so foolproof at all.”

Shena gave us a look. “What happened?”

“The goddamned bathhouse robbed us,” Darko said. “Took everything and ran while we were busy talking.”

“Everything?” Shena asked. “Your sword? The invitation? Cillian’s satchel?”

“All gone,” Darko said.

For a moment, the two sides stared at each other in silence. The air was awfully heavy. “Didn’t you spend five years of savings on that sword?” Shena asked.

“Seven,” Darko said. “Including most of my pay from defeating that damned wyvern.”

Shena plumped down on the bed and buried her face in her palms. “And they took the invitation…”

Remy remained standing with concerned eyes. “Your clothes were stolen. Does this mean, Cill…”

“Neither of us now own a single outfit,” Darko said. “Not unless Cill can conjure clothes from thin air.”

“I asked you to grab spares multiple times…” Shena said. “Darko, you must understand that we are screwed, right?”

“I didn’t exactly expect to be robbed at a Krose bathhouse so blatantly.”

“We are in Arkber!” Remy said. “Of course you’ll get robbed, leaving a glyphsword and fine clothes lying around. The question is, what now?”

“We require the invitation back, one way or another,” Darko said. “The ‘how’ is another question. We’ll have to get creative. Luckily, our assailants were kind enough to leave me with this letter. Read it out for me, please.” He handed the letter to Remy.

After a quick scowl directed at Darko, Remy read, “Wyvern Slayer Darko,

“We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, and for forgetting to warn you of this terrible situation. The bench you have left your clothes on is infected by harmful lice. To avoid potential damage and inconvenience, we have relocated your belongings. Your items are stored at the old church warehouse in the district of Drybark. Please retrieve your items before nightfall.”

“How delightfully kind of them,” Darko said. “Think of how terrible it would have been had my glyphsword been eaten by fucking lice!”

Remy raised her head from the paper. Clear suspicion showed on her face. “What’s the chance this is honest? If I recall correctly, Drybark is known as the most secluded, most crime-intensive district of the city.”

Darko leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking.

“Um,” I said as an attempt to have a turn to speak. “Will we get our clothes back?”

“That depends on just how eager our assailants are with their games,” Darko said. “I believe I understand the gist of the situation. We’ve got roughly three hours before the audience with the King. Shena, scout the area and figure out exactly who our assailants are, and what they’re up to. Remy, Cill, you two will stay at the inn to watch over our remaining gear. Use the time for lessons, just as you would spend any excess time.”

“You want us to resume studying?” Remy asked. “While Cill is dressed like that?”

“Neither of you will die from a short lesson without a shirt on,” Darko said. “I’ll resolve the matter of outfits. I’ll be back within the hour.”

“And how will you do that?” Remy asked.

“I’ve got my methods,” Darko said. “Don’t trouble yourself. Shena, let’s get moving. Time is limited.”

Then, still wearing only his towel, Darko stepped out and down the stairs without looking back. The three remaining members exchanged looks. Shena shrugged, grabbed her staff and the robbers’ note, then exited, closing the door behind her.

“What is wrong with this team?” Remy sighed.