Venturing into the Darkspore Swamp, the discerning traveller should know to seek the hospitality of the Sporeguard clan. I cannot think of a more kindly or welcoming folk than these gentle dwarves, quite an oddity among their surly kind. But beware: steer clear of their shroom beers! Brewed from bizarre swamp fungi, these mighty potent concoctions can leave even the sturdiest bastards swaying on their legs, upchucking their meal, seeing things, and forgetting more. I have witnessed more than one companion succumb after half a tankard!

I can now see that the popular convention painting the stoutfolk as rampant alcoholics is wacky nonsense! Their resilience merely surpasses ours when it comes to potent libations, which would likely prove fatal to most other races. Moreover, I have been led to believe other clans possess their own secret recipes they guard jealously, but brewed from deep cave mushrooms instead! How wonderful! I absolutely must sample such delectables. Sanity be voided! Many dwarven holds are notoriously hostile to foreigners, but nevertheless, I shall persevere.

—excerpt from the famous book series, “The Gourmet Globetrotter” by Michaela Altyre, ongoing since 2483 AK

–

Rest 29, 2497 AK, Radiant Empire, Cleft Isles, Greyport, The One-Eyed Bear.

Tall boots clacked on the cobblestone outside the One-Eyed Bear. Long legs wrapped in tight leather carried them through nonchalant strides over the debris of the door. A slack white blouse was tucked in the high-waisted pants, rolled-up sleeves baring pale, toned forearms, a couple of gold bangles, and manicured fingers wrapped around a large wooden club. The broad neckline revealed hints of a modest, freckled chest and three metal claws on a thin silver chain. Denser freckles speckled a strong chin then wrapped around shapely red lips, pronounced eyebrows, and cherry-coloured eyes that beheld the whimpering man on the ground as one might a cockroach. Topping it all was lush auburn hair woven in a loose braid.

The young woman strode confidently across the street outside the tavern. “I warned you, Rick,” she said in a lazy drawl. “The girls are there for looking, not touching.” Approaching the fallen man, she swung the heavy cudgel onto her shoulder and smiled menacingly.

Visibly drunk, Rick needed a moment to figure out his surroundings before looking up. His bloodshot eyes widened in terror, and he tried to stand and run away, only to trip on his own feet, sprawl in the mud, and re-introduce his face to the ground.

“Come on, pal,” the woman snickered. “How did you expect to keep it up if you can’t even stay up? Now. Which do you prefer? Arm or leg?”

“W-What?” Rick gasped fearfully, curling on himself. His shaky hands weakly rose in defence and supplication.

Long legs squatted beside him. Reddish brown eyes met his terrified gaze, the woman’s red lips hooked up in a mean smile. “Which one do you want me to break, you piece of filth?”

“Erza, that’s enough.” A hand fell on the woman’s shoulder. A third person had come out of the tavern, a young man. His freckles and red hair tied in a ponytail made the family resemblance obvious, though he was much larger, brawnier, and more rugged than his sister. His eyes were blue, and dimples lent his face an air of mischief. However, he was not laughing right now. “The bastard’s already about to piss himself.”

“…not about,” Erza replied, scrunching her nose as a dark, odorous patch spread over Rick’s crotch. She shrugged off her brother’s hand and stood to face him. “Stay out of this, Bernt. Shitheads like him never learn until you give them a good reason to. I’m thinking a couple of broken limbs should do it.” She smirked down at the fallen man, who whimpered and tried to crawl away. He was stopped when she stepped on his ankle, eliciting a pained cry.

“You just like hitting people,” Bernt retorted.

“Only those who deserve it.” Erza rolled her eyes, twirling her cudgel. “Stop being such a worrywart.”

“We can’t afford another incident right now!” Anger was creeping into the brother’s voice. “You’re always too bloody reckless. Why can’t you just–” His rant cut off as his gaze drifted over his sister’s shoulder, spotting the pair of onlookers. “Oh, hi, Annet. Kay too.”

Kaydence returned a level gaze. Having stumbled upon this scene, she wanted nothing more than to grab her mother and turn around. But before she had a chance, Erza spun towards them, her expression smoothly transitioning from her vicious smirk to an easy, charming grin.

“Freckles!” she called affectionately and stepped over the cowering Rick to meet them. She bowed suavely before Annet and waited for the brunette to offer her hand before brushing her lips against its back. “What a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t realised it was time for your shift yet. Witnessing your beauty is always the highlight of my night.” She shot Kaydence a side glance. “And you brought Grumpy Face with you, too.”

“Go jump into the Split, Erza.”

“Aw, she barks. It’s adorable.”

Kaydence rolled her eyes. She would have reacted more aggressively if not for Annet’s presence or knowing that the other woman was only trying to goad her into a fight.

“Stop teasing her, Red,” Annet gently chastised. “Kay was kind enough to escort me here. Hi, Bernt.” She waved at the young man, who returned the wave with a faint blush. “So, what’s going on here?” Annet pushed past the redhead and, frowning, knelt beside the drunk man, making her daughter tense up. “Is that Richard? What happened to him?”

“Erza did, mostly.” Bernt shrugged.

His sister spat on the ground. “He pulled Lucia on his lap and tried to rip her bodice. He’d already groped another girl tonight, so I merely… escorted him out,” she spoke with equal amounts of anger and eagerness.

Annet shot her a confused look. “Richard did? No way! I know he leers a lot, but he’s a sweetheart. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m sure there’s more to it…” She turned back to the man, who had started muttering to himself. “Richard? Rick? Talk to me. Did something happen?” She reached out to touch his shoulder, prompting Kaydence to step forward.

“Annet, I don’t think–”

“RAAAH!!” Suddenly, Rick screamed, spun, and roughly shoved Annet away. Having seemingly regained his motor skills, he scampered to his feet and unsteadily ran away into the night, stumbling every other step yet still moving surprisingly fast. Swearing loudly, Erza started to give chase but quickly changed her mind when he vanished into a side street.

Her brother came up beside her. “Do you want me to–”

“Don’t bother.” She grumbled, “I knew I should have broken his legs.”

Kaydence was by her mother’s side the next second, helping her up and anxiously checking her over. Annet’s cloak had shielded her clothes from most of the mud. Her palms had scratches from catching herself on the cobblestone, and she might have a few light bruises tomorrow but nothing worse. Kaydence sighed in relief. She wished she could use magic to fix the damage, but the siblings’ presence stopped her.

Bernt, in particular, concerned her. While not a mage, he definitely possessed a form of magic. Woven into every part of his being was an intricate Life-Darkness construct, so inextricably merged with him that Kaydence doubted anyone else would have sensed it—the bodies of sapient creatures always obfuscating foreign magic. It might have eluded even her notice had the spell not felt so familiar, yet oddly off as well. In spite of herself, this oddity kindled her scientific curiosity, that minuscule part of her mind that still fondly recalled her years of magical research, regardless of the horrors they produced.

Kaydence shot the young man an annoyed look, which only seemed to confuse him.

Meanwhile, Annet was trying to dismiss her daughter’s worry. “I’m fine, Sweetie. Really, I am…” She trailed off and looked in the direction Rick had disappeared. “I hope he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“You hope– Hrmmm!” Kaydence swallowed an exasperated scream. “Void! Worry about yourself, woman! What possessed you to get close to him like that?!”

“He looked like he was in pain…” That sounded less like an answer to Kaydence’s question and more like Annet was still worrying for the molesting drunkard.

“Not in enough pain, obviously.” Erza returned, looking frustrated. “You okay, Freckles? You got to stop treating every dangerous person you meet like they’re a sick puppy in need of cuddles. You’ll get your ass bitten one of these days, and not in a fun way.” The redhead appeared to miss the irony of her statement. Unlike her brother, Erza might lack any worrying magical peculiarities that Kaydence could detect, but the sadistic flirt certainly presented her own set of issues. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before you catch death.” She wrapped her arm around Annet’s shoulders and ushered her towards the tavern entrance.

Kaydence watched them go with a frown but hung back to talk to Bernt. The large ginger man was picking up the pieces of the broken door. “What incidents?” she asked.

“Hm?” He glanced her way. “Oh, that. I was mainly trying to get Erza to back off. But it’s true the guards have been a pain lately. I mean, they’re always a pain, ‘cause we won’t let them get away with harassing the girls, they don’t like some of our regulars, and ‘cause Ma’s not from around here. Over two decades in this stinking town, and they still treat her– treat us like foreigners. What more do they want?” He threw a splintered plank to the side with too much force, scattering wood bits about. Bernt had never made a secret of his disdain for Greyport or his longing for adventure overseas.

“It’s always worse near the Festival, with everything so messy ‘round town. I guess even assholes get stressed from overwork. But they feel extra edgy this year. Wonder what’s gotten into them.” He pushed the last of the debris out of the way. “Anyway, I’d rather Erza didn’t give them an opportunity by maiming some guy in the middle of the street. That bastard Flynt would love to see her dangling from a rope,” he growled, his friendly face tight with anger. Kaydence could sense the magical construct react to his emotions, like stirring awake.

She eyed him warily. “Flynt thinks that of everyone he can’t boss around or suck up to. I’m told it’s a manhood thing. Not my place to understand, but you can probably relate.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Bernt snorted and shot her an annoyed look, but his anger subsided. “I swear, you and Erza are like peas in a pod. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was your sister, not mine.”

“I don’t go around hitting people for fun.”

“That’s true,” he conceded, then smirked. “That would require you to have fun. We can’t have that.”

Kaydence hit him.

Bernt laughed it off, even though he briefly rubbed his large arm where she punched him. “Yeah, that’s not helping your case… You should go in. I’ll be out a little longer. I need to go out back fetching another door.”

“…you have spare doors in storage?”

“And windows, chairs and tables. Alcohol makes shit happen, especially around Sis. The door probably had been patched one too many times already.” His broad shoulders slumped. “I just know Ma will yell at me for not replacing it sooner… Oh, right. She wants to talk to you. She’s in–”

“In the kitchen, I know.”

“Yep. Good luck.” He waved and jogged around the building.

Left alone in the dark street, Kaydence stared at the tavern’s gaping entrance. Through it streamed light and the buzz of inebriated conversations. She looked to the side, down the quiet, empty street, contemplating leaving, then sighed and stepped inside.

The interior of the One-Eyed Bear was not anything special: stonework walls decorated with beast skulls and pelts, floors covered in rushes, a roaring fireplace, wooden furniture bearing earthenware pitchers and trenchers, flickering grease lamps, a young woman weaving between the tables with two handfuls of full tankards. However, the warm atmosphere lacked the gloom that infected the rest of the town. The patrons here, almost all regulars, were chatting merrily, loudly and without urgency—despite someone recently being thrown through the front door. In this place, this likely counted as entertainment.

Gazes shifted to Kaydence as she entered. A few looked uncomfortable, but most quickly dismissed her to return to their meals, drinks, and company. Annet was nowhere to be seen, probably taken out back by Erza to clean up. Kaydence quickly crossed the room, eyeing the patrons as she did.

In a corner, an old bearded sailor snored with his head against the wall and an empty mug in his hand. A trio of trappers loudly boasted about their biggest catches, each trying to one-up the others. An elderly couple shared a quiet meal on the table closest to the fire. A scarred man sat playing dice opposite a short, stout humanoid with pale, squamous skin and shaggy white hair. His bushy beard was decorated with shellfish, and his large fingers fiddled idly with barnacles growing on his forehead as he took long swigs from a bottle labelled with a mushroom and a skull. On the furthest opposite end of the room, an even shorter creature with green skin, a disproportionately large head, and wide, pointed ears was messily and noisily shovelling food inside a big mouth lined with sharp teeth. People kept their distances and shot annoyed glances his way, but none seemed bothered enough to interrupt.

The noise drastically faded away when Kaydence walked through the heavy door barring access to the kitchen. This room was much like the previous one, but filled with barrels and victuals instead of people. The lights were dimmer here, utensils lined the walls instead of trophies, and cauldrons hung over the fireplace, their vapours having long since blackened the mantel.

Inside, a lone woman was cleaning fish with her back turned to the entrance. Grizelda Southey was a stocky woman, middling in height but broad in frame. Her hair was the same bright red as her children, though kept shorter than either of them.

“What do you want?” asked Kaydence in place of greeting. She did her best to keep the tension from her voice. The tavern owner had never shown an ounce of hostility towards her, but Kaydence could not ignore the magic thrumming within the woman. It was the exact same construct of Life and Darkness mana embedded in her son, but stronger, wilder, and even more thoroughly suffused into her being. If it was hard to tell where Bernt’s natural mana ended and where the spellwork started, in Grizelda, there was no such border. Moreover, though the magic felt more savage, Grizelda’s control of it was absolute.

In her current state, Kaydence was unsure she could escape unscathed if the woman ever decided to attack her—not without resorting to drastic measures.

“You good, child?” Grizelda asked in harsh, broken Imperial. She never turned around. Her knife swung, and fish guts were thrown nonchalantly into a waste bowl. Unlike her son and daughter, Grizelda had made no effort to shed her foreign accent. Even though she had lived in Greyport longer than Annet had been alive, her overly stressed consonants and guttural articulation gave the impression she suffered from constant sore throat.

“This again?” Kaydence clicked her tongue. Ever since her mother started working at the Bear four years ago, Grizelda had asked Kaydence the same question at least once a month.

Kaydence actually had an inkling as to why, and she might even have found it amusing if the gruff woman and her well-meaning but misguided attentions did not make her so uncomfortable. Unfortunately, dispelling the misunderstanding seemed impossible without creating more problems for everyone involved, so the girl decided to humour her mother’s employer. “Why wouldn’t I be fine? You know, if you keep asking the same question, I’ll keep giving the same answer.”

TSHACK!!

Grizelda’s knife stabbed loudly into her cutting board, and she halfway turned around. Her sharp blue eye pierced through Kaydence like a pick through ice. The stare lasted long enough for the silence to become awkward. Finally, the broad woman must have decided she did not like what she saw. She huffed.

“You no look good. Sit.”

“I don’t ha–”

“Sit.”

Kaydence reluctantly complied, and Grizelda fully turned around, revealing the ravage done to her left side. A long asymmetric fringe covered most of it, and an eyepatch hid what might remain of her left eye, but both failed to completely mask the horrific caustic burns. Over half her face, the skin looked like it had started melting and then instantly cooked solid. Her ear was a mishappen mass flattened into the side of her skull. Kaydence could almost taste the acid tang of Death magic still infecting the wound, locked in a stalemate against the power woven in Grizelda’s flesh.

A large plate of herring landed on the table in front of her.

“You eat.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Kaydence countered.

“You eat more. Good for you. Good in stomach, good in the head.” She accompanied her words with gestures as if talking to a two-year-old.

“I don’t–”

“Eat. Or I feed you.”

Kaydence sighed but dug in. It was true she could always use more food. Her body’s metabolism was all over the place, always clamouring for more nutrients. But she usually compensated for her deficiencies with Life magic, as she did to keep sleep at bay and avoid the nightmares. Some might call it unhealthy, but she saw it as an outlet for the wild power that otherwise churned inside her with nowhere to go.

Grizelda sat across from her. She produced a small metal flask from her apron, labelled with the same mushroom and skull Kaydence saw earlier, and took a swig from it. “You not get into fights soon?” she asked in her defective, accented Imperial.

“What are you, my mother? Go tell that to your own daughter.”

“Not same.” She did not elaborate further. “You move well?”

“Do I what?” Kaydence shot her an exasperated look, which Grizelda returned.

“Move. Run. Labour. Tire yourself out. Spending excess… power? Not the right word.”

“Energy?”

“Jar. Excess energy. Not good. Too much pile-up, then burst in wrong place. Physical labour help clear your head. You get?”

“Yeah, yeah. I understand.” It was actually uncanny how well Grizelda’s words echoed her thoughts just now.

“…good. Now, end fish.”

“……right.” Kaydence looked into the dead eye of the herring. She wondered which of them looked more awkward right now.

Just then, the door to the kitchen opened, and Erza’s head poked in. “Ma, I will carry Lucia back to her dwelling,” she said, not in common Imperial, but in a throaty, raspy tongue that matched her mother’s accent. “She needs rest after that fist-calling-face ****** her.”

Some words eluded Kaydence. She was familiar with the language, but it had obviously evolved in two millennia. As she often did, she pretended obliviousness and focused on her staring contest with the dead fish.

“Don’t take her to bed,” Grizelda warned gruffly in the same tongue.

“I have better head than that!” Erza huffed indignantly. “I know when time is right-or-wrong to ********!”

Kaydence could infer that one from context.

“Good. On your way, tell your brother to **** the *********.”

“Will do.”

The redhead vanished, leaving Grizelda and Kaydence in uncomfortable silence. Kaydence finally decided to continue eating, if only to give herself something to do and not think too much about the conversation she overheard. It was not the first time she heard Grizelda and her children speak in their native language, but it always unsettled her.

After all, only two places on the continent used Orcish.

One was Peyghor, the orcs’ ancestral country.

The other was a nation founded by the remnants of the so-called demon army… Seifer’s army… the Dragon Demon King’s army…

Her army.

Since Grizelda and her children were visibly not orcs, it was not difficult to infer their origin. Evidently, none of them had been alive during the War of Burning Heavens. However, some of Kaydence’s old subordinates might still be.

Such was the nature of the curses they had unleashed upon themselves.

The mere thought of meeting any of them again made her queasy. What could she say to them? Sorry for turning you into monsters and leading you to your doom? Yes, she could see that going over very well. As if.

Kaydence clutched her cutlery to stop herself from shaking and devoured her second meal of the evening with renewed focus. Eating under Grizelda’s hawkish one-eyed gaze was deeply uncomfortable, but the stubborn woman only allowed Kaydence to leave when she had finished the entire massive fish.

“You stay off trouble,” she warned in place of farewell.

“Yeah, yeah…” Kaydence could not get out of that kitchen fast enough.

Outside the door, she took a moment to settle her nerves before crossing the clamorous tavern. Every noise sounded more deafening than they had previously. The sounds, smells, gazes, and warmth felt like walls closing in on her. Walking through the room should take less than a minute, but the exit suddenly seemed so very far.

She had only made it halfway across when her mother intercepted her.

Annet looked no worse for wear. A lively flush coloured her freckled cheeks, and bandages wrapped her scratched hands. The sight of them brought a frown to Kaydence’s face.

“Boop.” Annet’s finger poked her daughter in the nose. “What did I say about scary faces? I’m fine, silly. It’s barely a flesh wound. Erza overdid it with the bandages,” she said, hiding her hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Look, before you go… Well, first, how dare you leave without saying goodbye?” She pouted. “Second, I wanted to quickly talk about your earlier question, on whether I still wanted to leave the island. I realised I never gave a proper answer.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have t–”

“Boop!” Annet poked her more forcefully. “You got to start listening when people want to talk about their feelings. Actually listen, and try to understand. And who knows? You might even learn something you never knew you never knew.”

“I don’t–”

“Get it,” Annet interrupted. “I know. You don’t need to understand everything right away. If you just listen attentively, some of it will make sense, eventually. Now, come on. It’s too noisy in here.” She grabbed her daughter’s hand and pulled her towards the door Bernt had already replaced.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’ll only take a moment. And Grizelda is a kind woman. She’ll understand.”

Kaydence recalled the gruff matron who threatened to force-feed her a whole fish. “...is she?”

Once they were outside, Kaydence took a deep breath of cold, fresh air. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket, and she could feel her breathing evened out. She had not even realised it had become unsteady.

Annet released her hand and walked in the middle of the street, spreading her arms as if about to do a twirl, but instead, she looked up at the cloudy sky. She let out a deep breath, a tranquil expression on her face. “You know, Kay, people always wonder if there is a place out there where they could be happier. Maybe it’s human nature to always chase something better, never stopping to consider what we already have.”

Her gaze turned towards the ocean, even though it was not visible from here. “When I was a little girl, I hated this place. My mother… She was not a kind woman, let’s leave it at that. I used to dream of love, of adventure, anything to take me away from here and her. Then she died. Just like that, I was alone, wondering what exactly I had been running away from. I felt very lost for a very long time… It feels like it was a long time, anyway.”

Kaydence stood frozen, unsure what to say or if she should even say something.

“Then, nine years ago, I found my answer. It was not what I expected, but it surpassed even my most wonderful dreams.” Annet skipped over to her daughter and interlaced their fingers, holding their hands up between them. Gentle brown eyes locked with unquiet red ones. “To answer your question, I don’t need to go anywhere anymore, because my greatest adventure is right here. And I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”

She kissed her daughter’s cheek, squeezed her hands, and then slipped back into the tavern, leaving a stunned Kaydence staring into the distance.

She stood there for a long time—what felt like a long time, anyway—before shaking her head. Her usual frown returned, and she looked back at the One-Eyed Bear, then out into the dark street, her gaze retracing the steps they had taken from their home to the tavern.

She took a step away from the building. Shadows suddenly seemed to come alive and pool around her. The next instant, the street was empty.

* * * * *