Next to some stone stairs I sit idly, waiting. The high streets lead to this rocky beach, disjointed from the commotion of the port, and it’s beautiful. Unusual shades of purple cover the sand, reflecting the rays of light from the hours of twilight. One or two couples spend the rest of their romantic afternoon in leisure, holding hands or walking by the rising sea, not too far from where waves crash.
Me? I’m working. From here I can see that building with a sizeable wooden sign hanging to its side, on it carved a lotus. That’s the tavern I just came out of, supposedly heartbroken, and heard that whole drama happen right in front of me, or behind me technically. I keep my eyes on the back of the building, faintly illuminated by the light inside, hoping to see Dev.
“Kid.” A strangely low voice says from behind me. “She’s not coming.”
Surprised, I still find the strength to not turn around at who’s talking to me. Looking at that building is my priority.
“I know.” I answer in an emotionless voice.
Steps on the rocky stairs get close to me, but I make a point to not avert my eyes from the tavern.
“The right one will come along, don’t worry. Your suffering is just part of tomorrow's joy.” They say.
A big hand sets on my head and ruffles my hair a bit. Their steps resume, leaving me behind without anything less being said.
You know, compared to back in my village, some people here are really nice. I will remember those words, even if I can't find any use for them right now. Maybe one day someone who truly needs it can hear them, and that person's kindness isn't wasted on me.
----------------------------------------
Yesterday, after waiting until late into the night, I followed Dev to his home. Don’t worry, nothing weird, it’s just that the information will come in handy. I came back so late I had little time to sleep. At least the noise of everyone waking up at the same time jostled the floor enough to wake me up, and I needed to be up early.
Now, three days left until the literal ship sails, I’ve found myself in a place I’ve been before but never entered. In front of me lays House Boreus’ Apothecary Shop. That’s what I think it says, anyways, I can’t read the sign, but the Boreus signet is everywhere. And displayed right next to it are the potions, with massive numbers written on papyrus in front of them. That is the one thing I can recognize, the symbol of gold. Although their prices are way past any amount I can save, even in a decade, they matter little. They are a target, but for once not a victim. This is where my next performance begins. Wearing the same dirty, sweaty clothes from when I work with cargo, I get past the tasteful wooden double-doors.
Tolls of a bell echo through the massive shop as I pass through the entrance, warning all inside of my arrival. A woman awaits next to the labyrinth of shelves, each one stocked fully with colorful concoctions surrounded by glass. My movements are unsure, and I freeze as soon as I see her. The role of this day is a “person who knows nothing of potions”. Not that far from the truth, anyways.
“Excuse me, what do you need?” The woman asks, turning towards me.
Her figure is mostly hidden behind the counter. She’s wearing green robes adorned with silver details. Opaque, almost gray skin contrasts with the vibrant colors of her outfit. Her dark hair tied into a ponytail reveals her shoulders and those long knife ears. She’s cute, but she’s also clearly annoyed. A peasant just walked in to cause some trouble.
“Hello.” I say. “Is this House Boreus? I was sent by my village to look for medicine for an illness.”
“Yes. Do you know what kind of illness?” She says.
“I know what ails him.” I say, without much confidence.
She stands up slowly, revealing her short stature. Must be barely 5 feet tall. She then walks towards the shelves carrying a small ladder by her side.
“All right, tell me how old the patient is.” She says after beckoning me to follow her.
“The patient?” I say.
“The person who is ill.” She says, annoyed.
“Oh… He’s the elder so he’s really old. Wrinkly now.”
“No age?”
“We don’t know ages over there, no. Must be at least five decades old, that’s how old my dad is.” I told the truth.
“And what are the symp- why is he ill? What ails him?”
Good, she’s speaking like I’m an idiot. This should work.
She has now stopped in front of a tall wooden display, about ten feet tall. It displays these green, translucent and bubbling liquids inside various receptacles. The stair swiftly placed right in front of them.
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“He coughs a lot, and he vomits sometimes… And he looks pale now, unlike before.” I say.
She loudly “hmms” and climbs the stairs. Vials are pushed aside atop the shelf, and she continues.
“Did he eat anything others didn’t?”
“Uh. I don’t think so. We have been doing pretty well so no need to eat dangerous things, that’s why we all thought of coming here.”
“So you are not alone?”
“Yeah! I’m here with some friends and family too. We all walked here to get this done as soon as possible. Splitting up to cover more ground.”
She silently kept perusing the stock, escaping the conversation for few seconds. Not the talkative kind, maybe to my detriment. If things don’t go well I’ll have to figure out someone else to speak to. Eventually, she climbs back down and shows me a bottle filled with green liquid.
“This is the medicine you are looking for. Tell him to drink it all and not save any for later. It will have no effect if it’s not used fully. Water is of upmost importance, so keep him hydrated. Also, don’t let him eat red meat that, older folk might have issues with it, it could even be the cause of the issue. And-”
I blankly stare at her as she continues.
“Do you need me to write it down?” She says.
“I-Yes.”
“Can you read?”
“Somebody from town can, yes.”
I reach towards the vial, trying to take it, but she quickly pulls it closer to herself, away from me.
“It’s fifty gold pieces.” She says as she takes out a piece of a scroll and writes something down.
Fifty…
Calm down, you don’t actually need this, just keep speaking. I continue, trying to control my first instinct of haggling and complaining of the price.
“O-okay. I will go talk go back to our cart and tell them I found something for that price.”
“Are you going to come back? I understand it’s quite a bit of money for…”
Yeah, you are right. No need to say it.
“Don’t worry! After butchering some of our herd we can manage. I’ll probably come back later unless someone else finds it at a lesser price.”
“Alright, well. I’ll leave instructions of where this store is so its easy for other person to come by… just in case.”
“Yes please.”
We walk back. Curiosity and amazement drives me to watch her as she writes runes and symbols on that paper. Her dexterity proved by the ability of wetting a quill, writing, and holding the paper with her left hand, the right one tasked to hold onto the ladder. I extend my hand towards it and say.
“I can carry that, you have so much in your hands already.”
“No, thanks.” She says, monotone.
My excitement quickly shot down by her apathetic response. An impressively quick and cold rejection. These few precious seconds of silence as we walk will have to be enough for me to recover. Once we get back to the front desk, she gets back on her seat, then hands me the piece of paper.
“Here.”
“Thank you very much. If I don’t come by later, someone else will with this paper, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll let the next clerk know in case I’m not here.”
“Thank you.”
I leave through the some doors, letting that bell chime again. This should be all I need for the next step.
Despite that absolutely brutal rejection, I smile, thinking of how fun this is.
----------------------------------------
It’s early, way too early for any good for nothing to begin drinking their day away. That’s my hope, that no bar worth its salt will have a bartender working right now, and Dev hasn’t left his home yet because of that. Scouting out the place yesterday, I doubt it has been more than a good night’s sleep since I was last here. My eyes burn seeing the light of the midday sun, but conman work can be hard work too, I guess.
The dirty rags I wore earned me a few mean looks as I walked into the inn Dev stays at, but at least he’s not staying at the most opulent parts of the high streets.
“I’m looking for Dev” I mention to a woman at the bar.
No one is drinking here yet, and the place looks a bit run-down, even for my standards. This green-skinned woman, that I assume owns or at least manages the place, leads me without saying much. Past the door she walked me through I see what’s basically a large balcony right next to the sea, supported by a web of wooden pillars below.
This place is pretty.
“You have a visitor.” The woman says, knocking a door.
She leaves as soon as she can. A few moments later, after some rustling coming from inside, Dev opens the door. Now I can see him clearly. His lean complexion and tall stature. Brown olive skin that contrasts with his light green eyes. He wore this black and white formal attire despite being home, although his pants were slightly ruffled and his shirt in multiple places unbuttoned. His fluffy unkempt hair naturally fell onto his face, creating this feeling of effortless beauty.
Yeah, no fucking wonder you are married.
“Oh. Hi. Who are you?”
“Dev, I have a message for you. It’s about the elder.” I say, taking out the apothecary’s paper.
“Wait. You mean…” He takes the note.
His face sank.
“Alma sent you?” Dev says.
“Yes, I don’t have the money but I went there and explained everything. She wanted to stay with-”
“I get it.” Dev says as he walks back into his room and begins packing. “I’ll go right now and buy it. Do you need to go back?”
He’s rushing to get ready, stuffing full his backpack with whatever he can find.
“I’ll stay, I have some family I here I need to talk to.”
“Okay, can you do something for me? You know where the Gilded Lotus is?”
Ah. Now I get it.
“I can figure it out.”
“Just.” He’s buttoning his shirt and putting various things inside a backpack as we speak. “Just tell my boss, her name is Neriah, that I had to go because of a family emergency. Tell her I’m very sorry but my father in law is sick.”
“I’ll explain it to her, don’t worry.”
“And tell her.” He comes out, closes the door behind him with a key, and smiles at me. “That she was wrong, okay? She’ll get it.”
“S-sure.”
“Thank you.” He begins walking. A few seconds later he turns around, without stopping, to loudly ask me. “What’s your name?”
“I’m uh…”
“Huh?” He asks without stopping, now further away.
“Don’t worry just go.”
“Hu…go?” I hear as a loud shout in the distance
Who cares about my name, go be with your wife and her dying dad.
He disappears. I leave soon after, readying myself for the next play: My first day as a bartender.