The moon shone overhead, illuminating the mostly empty streets with trash littered about. A few earth elementals were shuffling along, picking up fallen tankards, plates, and utensils. A group of three adventurers stumbled along the road, their faces flushed, their laughter slurred. One of them raised his hand and pointed. “Hey. Over there. You see that?”

“Is it a woman?” one of the adventurers asked with his head hanging, his face pointing at the ground. “She pretty?”

“You idiot! Look,” the first adventurer said, grabbing the second adventurer’s chin and raising his head. “Do you see it now?”

A line of drool dropped out of the second adventurer’s mouth. A moment later, he made a sucking sound and swallowed. “Uh…”

“It’s a phoenix!” the first adventurer hissed. “And it looks like it’s sleeping.” He paused and squinted his eyes. “Or dead.”

“I thought phoenixes couldn’t die,” the third adventurer said.

The first adventurer nodded his head. “You’re right,” he said. “Then it must be sleeping.” He licked his lips and rubbed his hands together, causing the second adventurer to fall to the ground face first after releasing his chin. The man grunted but made no effort to stand up. “If we sell one phoenix feather, we won’t have to work for a year.”

The third adventurer frowned and crossed his arms, staring at the snoring phoenix a block away from them. “Let’s do it.”

“Is it a woman?” the second adventurer asked, lifting his head off the ground.

“Idiot!” The first adventurer smacked his companion’s head, but his actions threw him off balance and caused him to fall over. He groaned and rolled over, meeting the third adventurer’s gaze. “I’m not sober enough. You do it.”

The standing man snorted. “Fine,” he said. “Eight, two split.”

The first adventurer scrabbled to his feet. “Wait, wait, wait! I’ll do it! I’m sober.”

The third adventurer snorted again. “Let’s both take one,” he said. He glanced at his fallen companion, who let out a thunderous snore. “Forget about him.”

The first adventurer nodded and tiptoed over to the sleeping phoenix. It was big, blood-red, and hiccoughing nonstop, a bubble escaping from its beak every time. The two men exchanged glances and nodded at each other, stretching their hands forward. One man placed his palm on a protruding wing feather, while the other touched a tail feather. A rustling sound caused them to freeze, and a dark figure rose from near the phoenix’s beak. Laughter boomed out of the figure, followed by a shout. “I, Shadow Nelly, the greatest scout in the world, have acquired the eyebrow feathers of a phoenix! And its spit!”

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The phoenix rolled over and snorted, its eyelids fluttering. Nelly’s eyes widened, and she ran away without hesitation, leaving behind two stunned adventurers. She shouted into the air, “Phoenix matriarch ma’am! Two bad men are trying to strip you!” Then she muttered to herself as she rounded a corner, out of sight, “I have to do something about my proclamations. But how else will people know I’m the greatest scout in the world? I’ll proclaim it quietly next time and see how that goes.” She nodded to herself before vanishing into the shadows of the alley.

Minerva’s eyes shot open, and her head snapped towards the two dazed adventurers. One of them was still holding onto her tail feather. She screeched and shot out a fireball that was as big as a building. Before it reached the men, it exploded, blowing them back. Their skin was charred, their flesh was burnt, their hair was singed off, but at least, they were left alive. “My goodness,” Minerva said as she climbed to her feet. “Trying to take advantage of a passed-out lady. People like you should suffer.” She snorted and craned her head towards the sky, looking down on the two groaning men.

The sleeping adventurer’s eyes opened, and the first thing he saw was Minerva’s majestic figure illuminated by the moonlight. Her back was arched, her chest puffed out, her beak pointing at the sky. She seemed like the center of the world, the only colorful object in a world of gray. Then she hiccoughed out a bubble. “So I’m dreaming,” the man said before lowering his head back to the ground. He giggled to himself before falling asleep.

Minerva hiccoughed again, another bubble falling to the ground. She blinked and swiveled her head. “Where am I?” she asked, looking at the ground. “What happened to the party?” She spread her wings and glanced at her sides. “What are these lacerations that suspiciously look like dragon scratches?” Her brow furrowed as she clacked her beak, making sounds like chattering teeth. “What’s the last thing I…? I fed Vur? No, there was something after that.” She brought her wings to her head and groaned. “Think, Minerva. Think.” She took in a deep breath. “There was a cake. It tasted sweet. Then there was barrel of whisky. And a barrel of wine. And a barrel of vodka. And a barrel of rum. And there was a tasty baby gryphon.” She tilted her head. “Did I eat it? Hmm.” She frowned and rubbed her lower beak. “No, before I could swallow, that berserk librarian stopped me.” She nodded. “Then there was a barrel of gin. Then a barrel of soju. Then a barrel of absinthe. Four barrels of brandy. Eight barrels of tequila. And sixteen kegs of beer to chase with. After that was Tafel’s coronation ceremony; they were talking too fast for me to remember the words. Vur ate Tafel’s face. I made Susan promise me to stick to Vur like glue for the sake of my future grandchildren. That black dragon overthrew the church of holy dragons. The berserk librarian was snogging a skeleton. I had a few more drinks—not a lot, just eleven or twelve barrels. And that’s it.” She glanced around again before nodding. “Looks like I’m still a master of moderation seeing as I remember everything. But why does it feel like I’m forgetting something…?” She shrugged. “Most not have been very important.” She spread her wings, preparing to launch herself into the air, but she paused before flapping. “Where’s Emile?”