1.28 (1/2)

After a few days, Erin concluded that she had three types of customers. The first type was the Antinium, namely Pawn and the Workers. He brought them every day, or every other day as soon as the sun touched the tops of the mountains in the south.

The south. Apparently, the sun set closer to the south than the west in this world. Erin felt stupid for not noticing earlier, but then, she didn’t carry around a compass, did she?

But the Workers arrived like clockwork, many bringing chess sets of paper or stone. Apparently, Workers did earn some kind of pay and they spent their money exclusively on chess and food.

Erin felt bad about that, especially given the price she charged for acid flies. But Pawn told her that before this, the Workers didn’t claim any of their weekly stipends. And besides, they ate like pigs. Starving pigs with a taste for crunchy flies.

But despite their obsession with her food, the Antinium were polite, quiet except when they were eating, and they played chess. In other words, Erin would have been glad to have them over every night.

The second kind of guest she got were the Goblins. They were like the Workers, but smellier, dirtier, and they paid her with coins covered in blood, dirt, and occasionally—

Erin had instituted a policy in her inn. Goblins had to jump in the stream, or at least wash themselves before they were allowed in. Not that many visited. In truth, it was just Rags and her posse.

And it was a posse. Or a group. Or gang. Erin was sure she was the leader of whatever they were, but while Rags was in command, it was also clear that she wasn’t in charge of her tribe, if there was still a tribe.

Occasionally the small Goblin would come in alone, but often she had two bigger Goblins following her. They were almost always injured—not seriously, but with small wounds that suggested scuffles and fighting. Erin wondered if the reason she didn’t see more Goblins was because they were recovering from injuries.

Nevertheless, Rags paid for her followers’ meals and her own and ate in silence. Occasionally she played a game of chess, but Erin got the distinct impression the small Goblin was watching her.

That was fine, but Erin had grown…warier over the last few days. She always checked to make sure she knew how many Goblins were around her inn, and even when Rags was alone in her inn, Erin never left any knives or other weapons out in the open. She also made the Goblins leave whatever they were carrying outside the inn.

Still, if the Goblins were an issue that occasionally made the Workers pause and Erin count the knives in her kitchen, they were still decent customers. They paid money, which was more than Erin could say for the last type of guest: annoying mage.

“Do you know how much money you owe me for all these meals?”

Pisces looked up, mouth bulging around a bowl of soup. He swallowed, grabbed a piece of bread and munched it down before replying.

“I am as always reliant upon your good graces and tolerant nature, good mistress. Rest assured I will pay off my debts in due time as soon as I acquire the necessary funds.”

Erin planted her hands on her hips. The inn was empty except for Rags sitting in one corner, slurping down another bowl of soup.

“You keep saying that, but do you actually have any money on you?”

Pisces raised his eyebrows.

“What is money but a concept? If you are referring to the notion of money, I am indeed wealthy in—”

“Coins. Do you have them?”

“Not as of such, no.”

He shrugged as Erin glared and went back to his soup. It was amazing how Pisces could manage to scarf down her food and still grimace at the same time.

“I know you study magic all day, but would it kill you to get a job? Then you could pay for food instead of mooching it off me. And you could pay for someone to wash your robe, too!”

Pisces glanced down at his travel and food-stained robes. They were probably white, but constant use and little washing had rendered them colorfully gray and splotched.

“I fail to see your point.”

“Your clothes. Are filthy.”

He shrugged.

“Do they emit any kind of unsavory smell?”

“…No.”

“Then once again magic has eliminated another tiresome chore. As to your point about employment, I remind you that I am banned from entering Liscor due to my magical inclinations.”

“And because you stole food and money from people by pretending to be a monster.”

“That too, I suppose. Regardless, it behooves me to stay away from the Watch. Even this far from the city I must occasionally evade their tiresome patrols.”

“Well, you won’t have to do that much longer.”

Erin sighed, and tossed her cleaning rag on the table next to Pisces. He eyed it, and then her.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, they’re not going to patrol around the inn any longer. After—after Klbkch—anyways, the stupid Captain said she’s not going patrol this area. And Relc doesn’t hang out here, so I guess you don’t have to worry about the Watch.”

Pisces repeated Erin’s words slowly.

“They aren’t patrolling this region any longer?”

“That’s what I said.”

He scratched at his chin and glanced out the window. It was still morning, but Erin had closed most of the shutters. It was an unexpectedly chilly day today, and she didn’t feel like building a fire.

“That would be…problematic.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Pisces leaned back in his chair and fiddled with the spoon he was using. He stared at the ceiling, a sign Erin knew meant she was about to hear another lecture. Resigned she picked up the bar rag and turned to clean another table.

Rags was sitting two tables over. Erin blinked as the Goblin quickly looked away. She hadn’t even heard the small Goblin move. Was she…listening in on Erin’s conversation with Pisces?

“The local fauna and flora of the area around Liscor is not the most hostile of environments, but there are several notable monster types that do pose a serious threat, even to me.”

Erin glanced over at Pisces.

“Even a great and glorious mage like you?”

“Let us just say that several of the species around here deter adventurers from pursuing their trade. Not that Drakes and Gnolls tend towards adventuring as much in any case. But without the Watch to keep local populations down, it will become hazardous quite quickly. I would suggest you hire some form of protection before this occurs.”

“What, like a bodyguard? I don’t have the money for that.”

Pisces shook his head.

“I was referring to thugs with weapons aptly known as bouncers, but you do raise a good point. I doubt many would be willing to travel this far to offer protection—and even if they did, their prices would be quite exorbitant.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Yes, well, regardless some form of personal defense would be highly advisable.”

“I can fight. I’ve got uh, [Bar Fighting] as a skill, you know. I can totally crack someone over the head with a chair.”

Pisces raised his eyebrows and applauded silently. Erin glared at him.

“Most ah, impressive. However, I doubt your prowess with a wooden chair would deter anything but the average Goblin. Most creatures are a tad studier than that I fear.”

This time both Rags and Erin glared at Pisces. He ignored Erin, but he seemed less sanguine about Rags, who had moved over to the table next to his. Gingerly, as if expecting her to bite, Pisces flapped one hand at Rags who shied away from him.

“Let me put it another way, Mistress Solstice. One you may more easier understand. Monsters, strong. You, weak. Regardless of your level, you have only the [Innkeeper] class which has few skills meant for fighting or survival.”

Pisces took another bite of bread and then reached for a cup as Erin fumed.

“I’m not completely helpless, you know.”

“I never said that you were. But fighting is far different from self-defense.”

He was right. In fact, Pisces was often right, but the problem was that he was so aggravating in being right that Erin didn’t like to admit it. She changed the subject to something she’d been waiting to bring up with him.

“By the way, I learned a new skill after the—the game.”

Pisces paused with his tankard to his lips.

“Oh?”

“It’s called [Immortal Moment]. I have no idea what it does.”

“Hm.”

He frowned and took a deep drink, grimacing at the water in his cup.

“I have not ever heard of such a skill in any of the directories I have read during my time as a student. Nor have I heard of such a skill at any point in my life. Have you found out what it does?”

“Nope.”

Pisces shrugged again.

“It sounds like quite a useless skill, to be honest.”

“That’s what I thought, too. But do you know if it has anything to do with chess? That’s probably where I learned it from.”

He thought about this as he drank.

“It is possible, although skills that focus on one task are generally easier to understand from their name. It is more likely that this is some kind of ability you gained during the course of the game. But as to what that might be or how such a skill could be used—”

He turned up one hand and finished his drink. Then he scowled and plonked the empty cup back on the table.

“Do you not have any alcohol? Or at least if you must serve drinks, would you do the courtesy of bringing out the Amentus beverage?”

Erin raised her eyebrows. Pisces pointedly glanced at his empty cup and she more pointedly made no move to fill it.

“People who pay their tabs get blue juice. And as for alcohol—I’m underage, you idiot. I’m only 20.”

Pisces stared at her incredulously as Erin glared at him over the counter.

“Underage of what, precisely?”

“The drinking age of cou—”

Erin stopped.

“…Nevermind. Okay, yeah, I could buy alcohol, but it’s expensive.”

“And customary for an inn.”

Erin thought for a second. She vaguely recalled something.

“I do have [Alcohol Brewer] as a skill. I guess I could…make beer?”

Once again, Pisces’s tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Ah. I see having a skill replaces the need for hops, barrels, the fermentation process, yeast, and of course the grain needed for such a beverage. Do show me how you make ‘beer’, and let me know when you’ve decided on what type of ‘beer’ you would like to create.”

Erin glared at him. The odd thing was that she understood exactly what Pisces meant. The skill in her head was telling her all kinds of crazy things like how long she’d have to ferment the wort she’d get after adding boiling water to grain, and all the supplies she’d need. And guess what? It turned out making alcohol was a pain in the ass.

“I can make wine too. Wine is easier.”

He shook his head.

“I trust your expert opinion, of course. But may I recommend testing your drink out on the Goblins, or perhaps the Antinium before serving it with your meals?”

This time Rags poked Pisces hard in the side. He yelped, swiped at her, and nearly fell out of his chair. He glared at Rags.

“Mistress Solstice, please keep your guest away from me. Elsewise I may be forced to use magic to remedy the problem myself.”

Rags instantly scooted away from Pisces in alarm. Erin folded her arms and glared at him.

“You’ll do no such thing if you want to eat here again. Stop bullying the Goblin, and stop insulting them while you’re at it. Besides, she’d probably beat you in a fight.”

“I doubt that.”

Pisces muttered darkly, but he subsided back into his chair and began shoveling more soup into his mouth. Rags deliberately looked away from both humans and pretended to be engrossed in picking at dried scabs on her side. Erin sighed. Touchy mages and inquisitive Goblins. She missed the Antinium already.

“I get that the Workers and Goblins travel in groups and run away from monsters, but how do you survive out here by yourself?”

He shrugged sulkily.

“Any decent mage has a number of spells to avoid detection. [Invisibility] is one of my fortes, for instance.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot you could do that. You know a lot of spells, huh?”

“I am quite adept in a number of magical fields. But yes, [Invisibility] is a 3rd Tier spell I have acquired after much practice and study. It is useful in almost every situation.”

“Like for what? Spying on people? Hey—you haven’t ever come in here while you’re invisible, have you? Because if you have…”

Erin made a fist. Pisces raised both hands and made a face.

“Perish the thought. I do have standards to adhere to, and besides which, you are aware that most mages use the [Farsight] and [Scrying] spells to gaze with impunity on anyone they like, are you not?”

“What?”

Erin looked at him in horror. Pisces smirked a bit.

“Is it so surprising? Most upper-class dwellings and bath houses have spells to prevent such unwanted attention. But fear not—there are no human mages in the area besides myself, and I suspect any Drake mages if such exist would prefer their own species to gaze upon.”

Erin shivered.

“That is the creepiest thought I’ve ever heard of. All of you mages are perverts, I swear.”

He looked indignant at that.

“Magic is a sacred art, Good Mistress. If a few use it to untoward ends, that is a small consequence that cannot be avoided. But to all others who pursue magic, the benefits are enormous. For instance, I do not have to worry about monster attacks even should the Watch give up patrols in this area entirely.”

“So you’re Mister Powerful, huh?”

“You saw my effectiveness against the acid flies, did you not?”

That made Erin pause.

“Oh. Yeah. You were pretty cool then. Um, thanks again.”

Pisces waved a hand at her and fixed his attention back on his soup quickly. Erin thought his cheeks were slightly pink. She smiled, and had another thought.

“Why don’t you teach me magic, then? I’ll get rid of your tab if you do.”

The mage looked up from his soup and stared at Erin.

“Teach you. Magic? Good Mistress—”

She glared.

“Erin, then. You do realize that magic is not as simple as waving a wand about and chanting words, don’t you? Becoming a mage such as myself requires years—sometimes decades of intensive study.”

“I know.”

Erin didn’t actually know that, but it made sense. But now that the idea had hit her, she was suddenly caught up by the idea. Magic. It seemed so strange and incomprehensible and yet—

“But uh, can’t you teach me a bit of magic? I’d love to learn. I think mages are cool. I was a big fan of Harry Potter growing up, although Draco was sort of cute too—”

Pisces glanced at Rags and got a blank look in return.

“…Who?”

Erin blushed.

“Never mind. Forget that. But will you teach me something? It doesn’t even have to be a lot. I just want to learn about magic.”

Rags looked up and stopped picking at her scabs. Erin sensed the Goblin scooting closer from chair to chair as Pisces considered her offer.

“And you would forget my tab?”

“I’ll forget your tab and I’ll start buying alcohol.”

That seemed to swing the scales. Pisces nodded. He sat back ponderous in his chair and intoned in his important-sounding voice.

“Very well then. Let us begin with the Mage’s Test. Observe.”

Pisces raised a finger which began to glow with blue-white light. He began to trace something in the air. Where his finger moved the light from his finger seemed to leave an ethereal residue. Erin squinted at it, fascinated.

“This is the basic test for determining aptitude. I am drawing—”

The gentle glow of blue magic was half-complete in the air when something interrupted Pisces’s lecture. A flash of light bloomed right in front of his nose. Pisces yelped, overbalanced in his chair, and crashed to the ground.

Erin backed up. Pisces flailed around on the ground as Rags dove out of her chair and underneath a table.

“What was that? Get it off!”

Something was hovering in the air in front of Pisces. He batted at it frantically, and then paused as he saw what it was. Slowly, he sat up and Erin saw something floating around his head. It looked…like a firefly? A firefly made of red and gold—no, more like a spectrum of those colors, flickering together and winked out in front of the mage’s face. It was beautiful and mysterious.

“What is that?”

Pisces stood up. He slowly reached out, and the firefly became motes of light that danced around his hand. He stared at them.

“It’s a messaging spell, but I haven’t seen one like that since—”

He broke off, frowning. The pinpoints of light began to coalesce into strange, flickering shapes. Erin squinted at them, but they didn’t look like letters. Or…were they words? She couldn’t describe it—no, she couldn’t even understand it.

Each fleck of light twisted and became hovering runes or symbols, but they also made Erin think they were words. But could you make a single letter or shape into an entire concept? And they…they hurt to look at. Erin’s eyes ached trying to take the strange magical shapes in.

It was as if they didn’t exist in normal, three-dimensional space. And the more Erin looked at them the more she developed a painful headache and stinging behind her eyes. She had to glance away.

Rags was desperately trying to stare at the magical message, but she seemed to be in as much pain as Erin, clutching at her head and prying her eyes open with her dirty fingers.

Only Pisces seemed to be able to look at the shapes without any pain. He frowned, and stood up.