“Hey, there! Boy!” a man yelled from two tables away before turning to his friends. “What’d they call him again? I know the wife had a confusing bitch name, but-”

“Sachse, sir,” he said, wiping a table free of spills. “My name is Sachse.”

“Whatever the fuck. I’ve got a task for you, then.”

Sachse wiped the table again before he slung the rag over his shoulder and weaved between the tables until he stood before him. But he already knew what was going to happen and let it.

The man held up his overflowing mug of wine and splashed it in his face. The patrons around them laughed at him as he wiped his face with the rag, marking his list with twelve.

“That is well. Is there any other task I can do for you besides getting splashed again?” Sachse asked.

“Yeah, I got one for you, boy!” someone called from a table away before he grabbed his mug and smashed it against the ground. “Clean that up, won’t you?” he yelled as the men laughed again.

“Of course.” Sachse nodded, digging his nails into his palm. Just two more hours.

Two more glass mugs had fallen before he bent to clean the mess, each followed by a chorus of laughter. He picked out the glass pieces from the wine and into a pile in front of his knees before he tapped the pile with his yew-wood wand. He muttered the spell as he teleported them into the large bin to be burned later before he cleaned the spill with the disgusting rag.

As he bent to clean the second spill, one of the men clutching a shivering girl on his hip knocked over his glass on purpose, draining it onto his head. More laughter pounded against his ears, but he ignored them as he ran a hand through his bangs and cleaned the spill in front of him before he moved to the next.

As he stood, hearing another glass break and an argument starting, he passed a table of men, half of them nearly falling out of their seats. One had his head on the table, asleep, as was obvious from the spit from his lips. Another of the men saw Sachse walking by and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

“Boy~!” he singsonged, forcing his grip to tighten as his eyes tried to focus on his face. “I gotta task for you this time!”

“Randolf, I’m sure it will be very interesting.”

“That’s my name again?” he muttered, trying to feel around for his glass.

“Look, I have more to clean. Can’t we discuss this in a minute?”

“Nah, you’re too busy for that. Now.”

“Randolf, they’re punching each other until one of them gives up. I don’t think it can wait.”

Randolf snatched his wand from the table after a few more fumbles, held it behind his back, and summoned the shadows behind him, trying and failing to look scary. “You will listen to me, boy.”

Sachse forced himself not to laugh at the stupid attempt. The shadows grew and merged behind his shoulders before he dropped them and smirked like he’d scared him shitless like the first time he’d tried that trick.

“Alright, I’ll listen,” Sachse said, seeing his manager break up the fight and kick the aggressor out. “What’s the task?”

“Ye’ve heard of that new creature by Yael, eh?”

“Yup. Everyone’s been talking about it.” Sachse said, trying to look interested—though he was clearly lying. They both were.

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“Well, I heard it’s incredibly fat and meaty, eh? A good thing to roast, then?”

“Sure.”

“I heard your father was a hunter, wasn’t he, boy?” a man called from a table away. Two more drinks and he was going to look like Randolf here. “Oh wait. You’ll never know. He left you!”

The pub roared with laughter as they continued to jeer about his neglectful parents.

“Yes, they did leave me. Similar to your first two wives, Willmar. Tell me, how old is the new girlfriend?”

Willmar glared back at him as he took a long swig of his wine before he threw a torrent of swears at him.

“Don’t listen to him, boy, that man always wants to be spouting bullshit,” Randolf said, tightening the grip on his arm. Sachse knew that’d be another bruise if the group didn’t follow him home again. “Back to Yael’s creation-”

“Any other details I should look out for? A large tail? Bright feathers? Scales on its stomach?”

“Exactly! But you shouldn’t be nervous, it’s a tiny thing, isn’t it?”

“You just said it was extremely meaty.”

“Yes. It’s got these huge bright feathers and towers over the trees, taller than Dragons - no, Giants! It has this hu~ge horn over its thick head, which is where you should stab if you can float. Horn or mouth is always good to hold, though wrap it around that long neck if you can, and-”

Sachse stared into his right eye as he rambled, letting the information hit his ear instead of absorbing it. He nodded along, giving stupid agreeable quips, making a list in his head of all the glasses getting shattered and the piles of barf he’d have to clean once this stupid conversation was over.

“And that’s all you should know! Hope you die for it.”

“Thanks, Randolf. I’ll go hunting tomorrow.”

Randolf turned from his chuckling friends with disgust and annoyance written across his face. “Did you not hear me, boy? It’s only visible during the full moon! You have to go now!”

“You claimed it woke up when the Moon was half awake.” Besides, the moon would be full in three days, and sundown wasn't for another few hours.

“Scratch that. Go now. It won’t be visible until-”

“I understand. I’ll look for it tonight.”

“Now! Go now or I’ll send you to your damn parents!”

“To Ozul, or over the border?”

Randolf yelled and twisted the boy’s arm as he stood. “Listen to your damned elders, won’t you, boy?”

“Yes-sir-I-won’t-do-it-again.” Sachse said too fast as he forced himself to breathe through the pain and for one foot to be positioned if he fell.

Randolf sat back down, pulling Sachse into a stand again, and took a swig from his nearly empty glass. “Understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll go hunting after sundown.”

He slammed his glass down in impatience. “Are your ears working? I've clearly said you're to go now!”

“Tonight.”

“Now.”

“Sundown.”

“Now! Next hour, eh?”

“Sundown,” he repeated.

“Tonight.”

“My shift is over in two hours. I can go then.”

“Toni- Oh. Well, that works fine. Go off, then. Why haven't you been doing your job? It stinks in here.”

His grip slacked, revealing the yellow and purple finger-shaped bruises there, allowing Sachse to finish doing his fucking job as Randolf turned back to his chuckling friends.