Going out for a glass with Clay was one of the many mistakes I made tonight. He wasn’t the one to blame, though. He kept his word and only bought me one drink. It was his pals who held me at the bar, insisting I had to have a few rounds with them. In their eyes, I more than deserved it for kicking Clay’s ass, even if I didn't win.

Honestly, by the time I got out there, I had more booze in me than I’ve ever had in my life. Not to mention the strength of it. Yet I was still on my feet and not lying on the ground passed out. Sure, the floor was a little unstable, but the already alienated feeling of happiness was now flooding my body and mind.

In a good mood, I searched for Deckard, wanting to discuss a few skills while still of sound mind, instead I found Squad Four. They sat together at a table, arguing about something I didn’t quite hear over the hustle and bustle of the inn.

“Hi, guys,” I said as soon as I sat down, catching them by surprise.

“Korra,” Freyde said and grinned when he saw it was me. “I thought you were enjoying yourself at the bar.”

“You gotta be kidding me! It’s hell out there.”

“Fuck! Are you serious?” said Harper, not believing what she was hearing. “Guys are buying you drinks I’ve never tasted in my life, and you fucking hate it?”

“Is it envy, I hear?”

“You bet! I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.”

Meneur grunted in amusement. “You wouldn’t even be able to swallow Basilisk’s Fire, let alone Dragon’s Fart like Korra.”

“How does it taste, anyway?”

“Well, Freyde...” I paused, wondering how to describe the taste of each drink I had tonight. Some were bittersweet like Dragon’s Fart, others leaving behind the taste of fruit.

“Honestly, I’d rather have plain water right now,” I said as I described the drinks to him.

“Water?” Meneur said, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think you’ll get it here. The cheapest beverage here is Heron Brew.” To emphasize his words, he raised his beer mug.

A sigh ripped from my throat. “I know. I already checked. How can the guards even afford to buy me these drinks on their salaries?”

Freyde’s pointed ears twitched. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know...” I said, hesitating on how to say it without offending them. “With the limited budget the City Guards have and all...”

He laughed. “I think you have the wrong idea, Korra. The budget may be limited, but Captain Rayden pays the guardsmen more than adequately. It’s the numbers that the Castiana City Guards lack.”

“Oh, I thought...”

“That the guards are poor?” Harper cut in, and she sneered when I nodded. “Then why the hell did you join?”

I knew none of them were here for the money, but they seemed to think I was. With my class and rugged looks, it was no wonder, though. Unsure of what to tell them, I took a cautious approach. “I kind of had to.”

“Is it because you’re a slave?” Meneur asked. “I assumed you were free.”

“That I am, and I am no longer a slave,” I said proudly and with a huge smile plastered across my face.

It confused Harper, though. “What the fuck are you talking about? I still see you as a slave when I look at you.”

And now I was confused too. She was a local. Didn’t she know how things work around here? Yet before I could collect my thoughts, which seemed harder and harder with the alcohol poisoning, the guys stepped in and explained it to her.

“I knew there was some crap to it, but this...” Harper said, taking a sip from her mug. “It’s easier when you know the blacksmith you’re dealing with is a blacksmith, the butcher is a butcher, and the whore is a whore.”

“Whores?” Freyde asked, his curiosity piqued. “Male or female?”

“You should really get yourself a chick, pointy-ear. And for your information, before you start having wild fantasies, they used to come to our bakery to buy pastries.”

As maybe-elf let out a disappointed sigh, she turned back to me. “So, what class did you choose if you’re no longer a slave?”

A question I expected to be asked and had a ready answer to. “I’d keep that to myself for now. At least, until I figure out my skills. You have no idea how hard it is...so hard.”

Freyde snorted. “I’d love to have your problems.”

“Then train harder,” I said back, wondering if I was being too snide. But then I decided to say what was on my mind. “No! Seriously, you should give it your all, y’all. Because I’m going to do it, and if you want to keep up with me, nothing less will do you any good.”

Harper let out a whistle. “Damn, you got some balls with that class evolution!”

“...and a heck of a lot of confidence,” added the quite-possibly-an-elf.

Even Meneur threw in his insight. “On the training grounds, you seemed more cautious.”

Rubbing my temples, I couldn’t disagree more. I’ve only felt such pride in me when I gave in to my instincts and the beast inside me. “Sorry, guys. I don’t know what came over me. It must be the booze.”

“Well...basically, you didn’t say anything wrong,” Freyde said, considering my words, before he gave me a leering smile. “I actually quite like the new you.”

He did? Glancing at the other two, I was interested in what they had to say.

First to speak was Meneur. “We’ve only met once, Korra. In my experience, a first meeting doesn’t tell you much about a person. It’s full of pretense and efforts to make a good impression.”

Oh, I’ve never looked at it that way. From a fairly young age, I was taught that first impressions make up a large part of the overall impact you make on others. In other words, very significant, and yet he was telling me it was just a farce, a pretense to him.

“I don’t care so much about your character as I do about my magic. It’s enough for me if you don’t look down on it or me for it.”

“Making fun of your magic?” That was out of the question. “Look,” I said and held out my hand, focusing.

“Was something supposed to happen?” the insolent-elf asked, after a moment of me trying in vain to create a layer of mana around my palm. 

Why the hell didn’t it work?! It wasn’t that long since I created a mana layer around my palm in Fallens Cry. Why the hell couldn’t I do it now? 

Then my alcohol-slowed brain figured it out. “I swapped the skill. Anyway, what I was trying to say...to show you is that I love magic, Meneur. I’m trying to learn some basics myself. So until you become a mind mage, you’ll have my adoration. If you show me a magic trick now, I’ll love you all the more.”

Not the best choice of words. They came out of my mouth in the heat of the moment before I could stop myself. What could I say? I would have loved to see more magic.

Taurus’ reaction was hard to read, but there was a trace of genuine delight in his eyes, perhaps even a spark of magic. He didn’t cast any, though.

“That fucking magic almost killed us,” Harper remarked with a sneer. Yet before anyone had a chance to say anything to her accusation, she added. “The blast was awesome, though.”

“You are unbelievable. You know, you’re still missing both eyebrows, right?” Freyde pointed out.

“Does it bother you? Because I don’t care.”

The half-elf gave it some serious thought. “It makes you less...hot. Not weird, just...”

While he struggled to find the right words to describe her eyebrowless appearance, she shook her head and chose to ignore him. Instead, Harper looked at me with all seriousness. “I’ll say it straight out. I don’t get along well with other chicks. All I’ll say is I got pretty shitty treatment from those around me when I was younger. Save your pity! I’m not looking for it. Instead, don’t try to boss me around, and we’ll get along…along-ish.”

Obviously, there was more to it than that. I’ve seen for myself how mean kids could be. There was no doubt that it left some deeper scars on her. To her credit, she was aware of it and even warned me about what was rubbing her the wrong way. 

“I can do that,” I said and immediately realized she might have misunderstood. “I mean, I won’t boss you around.”

“Good,” she said, nodding slightly. “Oh, and then there’s one more thing. I can be quite bitchy at times.”

“I noticed,” Freyde put in.

She gave him a long, hard stare. “I’m especially bitchy at those I find weak. So not that you turn out to be a bunch of wusses. Fight back! That goes especially for you, Meneur. You’re a big man. You should evoke respect, not pity.”

“It’s not so easy to change one’s habits, Harper,” he said in a composed voice, not even a hint of being offended.

She let out a sigh. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. Just don’t let the others roll all over you. I hate to see it.”

Freyde grimaced after taking a gulp from his mug. “Then you won’t be happy to hear that my grandmother called me ‘a fucking pussy’.”

“You and your grandmother,” Harper grumbled.

“Why would she do that?” I asked. She didn’t sound like the grandmother I wanted to have.

“For not being able to stand up to her,” he said and paused. “Well, no one in our family was brave enough to stand up to her.”

Harper chuckled. “So what? She called everyone in your family a pussy?”

“Basically, yes,” he confirmed bluntly, making Harper burst out laughing. The red tips of his ears showed that despite how casual about it he tried to look, her laughter made him uncomfortable. It also brought to my mind the question that had been nagging at me ever since I saw him.

“Freyde, I...you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but are you, by chance, a half-elf?”

My question took him by surprise. Actually, they all gave me weird looks. Was that such a strange question?

“What made you think that?” 

Since I asked, I opted to be blunt. “Your ears.”

“You’ve never seen an elf, have you?”

I had to quell the urge to refute him and say I saw some. After all, it was on Earth and worse, only in movies and TV shows. The reality may have been completely different from the imagination of earthlings. They might as well have been blood-sucking monsters instead of a noble race. Ridiculous, I know, still... 

If anything, Freyde’s question at least implied that there actually were elves on Eleaden. 

“No, not really,” I admitted, lowering my ears. “I’ve only heard of them.”

He let out a sigh. “That explains it. The bastards’ ears are pointy. But they’re not much longer than human ones. You see mine, longer than my palm, quite wide at the base too.”

“Okay, so you’re not half-elf,” I noted, mentally apologizing for thinking of him that way. 

“Then where did you get your ears? Do you have a birth defect?” Why did I say something like that? Since when have I been this blunt? Screw my drunken brain!

Harper couldn’t take it anymore and sputtered with laughter. Even Meneur chuckled. However, I had no idea if it was at Freyde’s expense or my ignorance.

“A birth defect,” Harper repeated, wiping away tears. “I’ll remember that.”

“I’m a quarter-gnome! My grandmother is a gnome!” he said loud and clear, a little offended, then leaned towards me. “Seriously, you haven’t met one yet? They’re everywhere.”

“Greedy little bastards, dealing with them has always been a pain in the hoofs for my clan.”

“Greedy and domineering,” Freyde added bitterly, “That’s my grandmother for you.”

“Hmm...” Harper grumbled. “There’s one on our street. He makes magic potions. Pretty reasonable fellow, as far as I can tell, a little gruff maybe.”

“Okay, there’s that three spark thing the gnomes have,” the not-half-elf said, admitting there was something to the baker’s words, and not all gnomes were the same.

“The what?” I asked. Sparks?

“Well, every gnome is born with a spark. Not a real spark, of course. That would be ridiculous. It’s more of a knack for something.”

“And there are three...types?” 

“That’s right, Korra. You have the greedy and domineering ones, most of whom you’ll find working in the money business. Loan sharks, moneylenders, brokers, and such. The more honest families work in banks, do accountancy for the wealthy, and so forth. 

“Then there are the gnomes Harper mentioned. Cranky, but with a spark for alchemy. You don’t run into them often. They spend most of their time locked up in their alchemy workshops, concocting potions and who knows what else,” he said, pausing to quench his parched throat with a swig of ale.

I wish he’d finish what he started instead. “And those with the third type of spark?”

“Inventors with adventurous souls,” he said as soon as he downed a sip. “When they are young, they set out on an adventure to see the wonders of the world and the inventions it has to offer. In old age, they usually settle down, build their workshops, and work on new magical tools. As far as I can tell, the nicest bunch of all the gnomes.”

“So not you,” Harper remarked, goading him. “You must be as greedy as your granny.”

Freyde grinned back. “She would love that and finally have the grandson she wanted. Ever since I was a kid, she tried to drill into my head that there’s nothing more important than the gold in your pocket. No, I’m only a quarter-gnome, no spark. I have no desire to rake in the coins.”

“An adventurer and inventor, then?” I asked, curious to see if he’s come up with any cool creations.

“Me an inventor? No, I don’t have the head for it. If anything, I’m looking for a bit of that adventure, excitement in my life, if you will. The thought of sitting through account books, ledger, and balance sheets for the rest of my life drove me crazy.”

That was something I could agree with him on. Accounting was hell. I could do it, but I stayed away from it if I didn’t have to.

Accounting aside, I found the gnomes as such very interesting. Freyde refuted my idea of three clans and explained that family names were associated with each knack. Welkes like him, for example, were known for the avaricious spark in their blood.

What I saw as striking was the fact that the gnomes as a race did not have their own country, kingdom, or just a region they inhabit and could call theirs. They just lived where they found it interesting, where their spark led them and weren’t driven out. According to Freyde, Sahal was such a place. They’ve been in every major city, and in the last couple of decades, they’ve started to establish themselves in smaller towns too.

It was great to learn about the gnomes, and I was looking forward to seeing some of them. Apparently, there was no mistaking them. Their stature was smaller than that of men. Freyde compared their height to that of a six-year-old human child and that most of them won’t even reach below my boobs. And then there were their ears, which were no smaller than Freyde’s, ears that were longer, bigger, and more pointed than those of the elves.

Elves...where did this noble race live? What were they even like? How different were they from my imagination?

Questions I had to leave for later, as nature called.

***

Returning from the outhouses in the backyard, I planned to buy a mug of beer and return to my squadmates. It was great to get to know them better.

Instead, I came across someone I’d wanted to find for a long time, just hadn’t taken the time to do so, Frank. He was the first guardsman I met when I arrived in Castiana. He filled out the first form with me at the gatehouse and took me to Captain Rayden.

That wasn’t why I wanted to see him, though. After all, I was so nervous at the time that I barely remembered him. No, I wanted to talk to Frank to ask him about the old merchant who brought me to the city. But how to approach a guy who went to take a piss?

Should I wait for him to come back? Wouldn’t that make me even more of a weirdo?

Not having much time to think, I acted, and with a few quick steps, I approached him, tapping him on the shoulder. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but whatever words he had to say stuck on his tongue when he turned and saw me.

“Frank, right?” I asked, not giving him a chance to get his bearings back. “I’m Korra Grey. Not sure if you remember me. It’s been a few days since I came to Castiana and...”

He held up his hand to stop me. “Quit it!”

My ears dropped. I should have waited for him to come back. It was really hard to hold it in when one really had to go. Stupid! I was stupid! Too rash.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you...”

“No, I mean I remember you. It’s hard to forget someone like you who can’t even get off the wagon.”

Oh, that. I completely forgot about that. I was so nervous, thinking about running away, and I almost ended up face-first on the ground. It was nice to be remembered for something other than my looks, even if it was something a little embarrassing.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“I can’t tell you how surprised I was to see that oaf fighting in the barracks,” Frank said, smiling.

“You were there?”

He nodded. “I bet a few coins on you. Shame you lost. It was close.”

“If you’re interested, Clay wants a rematch in a few weeks.”

“Seriously?” He asked, and at my nod, he laughed. “Well, it’s his funeral. But if he’d seen you looking like you did a few weeks ago. The difference is... “

Seeing that he was having trouble finding the right words, I butted in. “He is somewhat aware of that and already regretting his decision.”

“I can imagine that. Anyway, it’s good to see you’ve managed to stand on your own two feet. Old Scoresby would have been happy.”

“And that’s why I wanted to talk to you? I want to thank him, just…I have no idea where to find him.”

“You’re the only one I know who knows him. Just tell him I’d like to meet him,” I said quickly when I saw him hesitating to tell me the old man’s address. “He can decide when and where to meet me. That is, if he’s willing to at all.”

He smiled. “He’ll find time for you, trust me. Okay, where will I find you? Or you could drop by the West Gate in a few days. It’s up to you.”

“Hmm...” I could come over, or... “Do you know Aspen?”

“Sure, I know about her.”

“I’ll see her every day now, so you can pass the word to her.”

“No problem.”

With that, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. “You have no idea how grateful I am.” It was a burden I’d been carrying around with me ever since I got off Scoresby’s wagon, a personal thing that’s been bothering me. I never thanked him for what he did for me. 

Of course, he may not have even expected my thanks and has already forgotten me, but I didn’t want to be the ungrateful one. That wasn’t how I was raised.

With that out of my tail, it was time to find out what else was in store for me tonight.