I was heading to Drunken Filly, bathed, fed, and after a lesson in Standard from Ria. The little kitsune urged me to try already talking with people without the assistance of the skill, but considering what was coming up, I argued against it. I know, kind of cowardly. There was a good reason, though. Experience told me that alcohol could tangle the tongue of any speaker, native or not. So, why make it harder for myself then, when the result was to be the same?

“Are we there yet?”

Yeah, I wasn’t able to ditch Idleaf. Once she learned what a tavern was, and no, I wasn’t stupid enough to tell her, she couldn’t wait to see it. A place full of people having a good time, singing, drinking, and puking; that’s kind of how Ria described it to her. After that, it became virtually impossible to convince her not to go, no matter what I tried.

“A few more blocks,” I replied to Idleaf and adjusted my shirt.

On the way back from my language lesson, I stopped by the Broken Mug to pick up my backpack with what little was in it. Considering the spatial storage I now had, a rather useless piece of cloth and straps. I tossed it into my new spatial tool, anyway. Who knows when it would come in handy? 

Then there was the matter of my sleeping accommodation itself. Despite my hopes for a short, alcohol-free evening, I had a sneaking suspicion that I would return under similar circumstances as last time. And so I warned the innkeeper Byron, that there was a teeny tiny chance I would come back somewhat inebriated and late at night. He just laughed and asked me to barf outside, not in his inn.

Being there, I took the chance to put on my best, meaning a clean linen shirt and shorts without holes, pants I found too uncomfortable. And yes, boots! For the first time since I arrived here, the cobblestones of the city at night didn’t chill my feet, nor did I have to worry about stepping in anything nasty.

It was glorious, heart-satisfying, a treat for the soul...it was weird.

I really wanted to believe that it was the absence of any footwear on my feet for over a year that made me so self-conscious about the boots on my feet. Sounded logical. Just as one could get used to practically everything, the same went the other way around. At least, that’s how I was explaining to myself why having shoes seemed so strange.

Aside from the beast part of me, of course. 

While the human me - well, Korra born and raised on Earth - was thrilled with the boots, the beast part of my being didn’t bear my covered feet well. It felt unnatural, wrong, even stupid. There was simply nothing better than feeling the soil beneath your feet and the breeze between your toes, right?

“There?” squealed Idleaf as Drunken Filly appeared before us. The place was impossible to miss or overhear. Apart from the fact that the tavern stood opposite the barracks and the building’s frontage bore a large sign with the name of the establishment and a depiction of a mare with entwined legs, several groups of people standing outside and loudly enjoying themselves were giving it away. I couldn’t help but look around the surrounding buildings and wonder how the local residents took the daily, nightly noise.

Pretty sure I’d be pissed if I didn’t get a good night’s sleep night after night.

“Yes, Idleaf, that’s the tavern. Drunken Filly.”

The spirit’s eyes lit up, and she jogged ahead, thrilled to look inside. That’s when it hit me. The tavern, full of people having fun, and you couldn’t hear a thing outside except for the lively conversations of those who sought the fresh air of the twilight streets. Some kind of enchantment or runes similar to the ones in the library, only working the other way around, maybe? It wouldn’t be surprising. Drunken Filly was one of the better taverns and inns in the area, unlike Broken Mug, where I stayed.

Not sure if Byron’s inn had a similar anti-noise measure, but I was inclined to believe it didn’t. What reason would the innkeeper have to acquire something like that when the brothel next door didn’t have one? After all, I could hear the noise from the brothel across the wall of my room, companions and their customers making love, reminding me every night how broken I actually was. Despite accepting who I was, what had happened to me, and how I had changed, I was still unable to...touch myself.

“Are you all right, Korra’leigh?” Idleaf asked when she noticed the change in my mood. It was sweet of her. Elated as the young tree was, she took her eyes from the lit windows of the tavern and turned her attention to me.

So, was I all right? No, I wasn’t, not really. “I am. I’m fine, Idleaf.”

“You don’t seem to,” she argued when my little lie didn’t go over as well as I’d hoped.

“Some bad memories,” I tried to brushed off my issues.

“Of this place?” she pointed to Drunken Filly.

I was inclined to say yes, but the hammering headache and hangover, in general, didn’t come until the next day, so...I didn’t have any particularly awful memories of the tavern - quite likely due to a large gap in them regarding the night. 

“Kind of,” I said instead of no and did my best to shrug off the troubles weighing on my mind. I would have those tomorrow, too; visiting the tavern was another matter altogether. Jitters raced through my body; my palms were sweaty and Sage unusually steady behind me, a telltale sign that I wasn’t going there with enthusiasm Idleaf abounded in, and thus my mind gravitated to dark thoughts, doubts, and such. Kind of a vice of mine. 

“Don’t mind me,” I said, wiped my hands on my shorts, and took a deep breath while I hit my mind with [Indomitable Will]. “Let’s go in there and have some fun.”

My words didn’t come out as enthusiastically as I wanted, but Idleaf didn’t let that bother her. She whipped her ears, fluttered her wings, and made two cheering rounds around me before she shot towards the tavern’s front door. I followed behind her.

‘Shit!‘ The whole tavern fell silent when we walked in, crowding in behind us, those who had been standing outside on the street, eager to see the main stars of the night: Idleaf and me. An unpleasant feeling ran down my spine, making me feel like the prey the predator’s eyes were on. I didn’t like that at all. Worse, we were the center of attention, and something was expected of us. A speech, a few words, an introduction... I had no idea.

Then as I was forming a speech in my head, panic-stricken as I was struggling with the instincts telling me to run away, the man closest to us dropped to one knee. Then the woman behind him, and another and another. It wasn’t long before an entire room with dozens, maybe hundreds, of city guards were paying their respects to Idleaf and me. Some kneeled, some with their heads bowed, but they all seemed aware of the weight of the ethereal spirit, and her Guardian posed.

I gulped, whatever words I had come up with for my speech forgotten. ‘What the fuck was I meant to do now?’

The spirit next to me moved. She leaped up onto a table not far from us, nimbly avoiding the mugs of ale on it, and straightened up, puffing out her chest. “I’m Idleaf,” she boomed to the entire tavern, her ethereal voice carrying to all corners of the room, echoing off the walls. I wasn’t sure if others felt it as I did, bearing such a name, but her seemingly simple introduction was not so simple. She put power into her name, said it as it should be said, with pride and a tale to tell.

This time she didn’t have to urge me on, and I took a few steps forward, standing next to her. Not on the table; that seemed too much. Just next to her, nervous as shit, sweating my ass off. Nevertheless, I straightened up with my chest out like her and tried to look confident so I wouldn’t embarrass her. She was proud of me, and even though I knew I couldn’t speak my name with as much impact as she did, I was determined not to let her down. “I am Korra’leigh Grey, Guardian of Idleaf.”

I don’t know what I expected to happen, but it wasn’t the silence that had fallen over the otherwise noisy tavern. ‘Now what?!’  

From the looks in the eyes of the others, I gathered that they were as much at a loss for what to do next as I was. Whoever came up with this shit didn’t think that far about their welcome and our arrival.

Everything was falling apart.

At least, as far as my plan to show up for a few minutes or two and make a break for it was concerned. Honestly, it was foolish from the start. If I wanted the gals and guys here to dig me a bit, I couldn’t bail out after a few minutes. That would be like digging my own grave.

And so, with that realization, I did the only thing I could think of after remembering a visit to a nightclub on Earth where a very handsome girl put the bar in similar silence. Following her example, I grinned and called out: “Who’s gonna buy me a drink?”

It worked like a charm. The whole tavern erupted in cheers, and Idleaf with them. A few heartbeats later, I was dragged to the bar. 

“What an entrance, Guardian of Idleaf,” said the bartender as I landed at her bar. The well-groomed woman in a neatly ironed uniform was grinning from ear to ear. 

[Bartender: lvl 124]

“What’s it gonna be, Dragon Fart, like last time?” Yeah, I had a hunch she’d remember me. “First round on the house, of course.”

“Dragon Fart!” roared the crowd around me and started chanting. “Fart, Fart, Fart, Fart,...” I was hardly surprised to find Idleaf among them chanting the same, even though she had no idea what was going on. As long as she was having fun, right?

Me? A few moments later, I was sweating under the familiar sensation of heat that gripped my guts after drinking a shot of the yellow liquid the bartender put in front of me. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I weathered it a little better than last time. It wasn’t long before all that remained was a pleasant warmth in my body, a strange bittersweet taste on my tongue, and the smell of farts on my breath.

Then, when I slammed the glass on the bar to highlight my somewhat smooth-ish downing of the local drink that separated the men from the boys and the women from the girls, a wave of cheers went through the crowd.

That was the first shot. Two heartbeats later, the bartender put another in front of me. This one was from a woman no taller than me. I chalked it up to the effects of Dragon Fart when my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her dazzling amber eyes.

[Guardswoman: lvl 146]

“To you, Guardian,” she said in a rich voice while she held up her glass, glanced at the shot in front of me, and put her arm around my shoulders. I already felt nervous as shit, surrounded by so many strangers, and no matter how pretty she was - I was straight - this was too much. Either it was so obvious to see, or the shaking of my body gave it away; in any case, she noticed, chuckled, and added with a smile: “For the jitters, bottoms up.”

Clinking the glass with me, she downed her shot of Dragon Fart in one gulp and disappeared into the crowd to make way for another city guard eager to drink with Guardian of Idleaf.

Speaking of which, where the hell was she?

“Don’t worry about her,” a familiar voice spoke from the crowd surrounding me when he saw me looking around; Deckard. The women and men made way for him. “Sorry, guys. This round with her is mine.”

“Was kind of hoping you forgot,” I said bluntly with head gestures at the city guards around us. He understood and laughed. “Yeah, you’re in for a rough night. And I’m certainly not gonna make this easy for you. A promise is a promise. Two Dragon Farts, Thal.” 

The bartender, Thal - whether it was her actual name, a shortening of it, or just a nickname I didn’t know - was swift, and no sooner had Deckard finished speaking than two more shots of the strongest booze Drunken Filly had to offer lay before us.

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy on me? You know; because of tomorrow? Training and stuff?” 

“Nice try, Little Beast,” Deckard laughed and took his glass. “I don’t think this one shot will change much, and if you want, you can treat this as part of your training. Go on, take yours.”

Wondering what I was actually training by this besides the poison resistance I didn’t have in the first place, I took my glass, and in the tradition, I was taught here the last time, looked into Deckard’s hazel eyes before we clinked our glasses. 

“To you, my apprentice, and you becoming a Guardian of Idleaf, the third one of the first World Tree on Iawelles.”

Bastard. He could have skipped that last part. Even so, I accepted his toast with a smile on my lips and downed a third drink in what must have been only a few minutes. My robust constitution or not, I was well on my way to ending up like last time if this keeps up. That much I was sure of.

“I hope,” he said after easily weathering the effects of Dragon Fart. “...that you still see me as worthy of training you, Little Beast.”

Where the hell did it come from? Was it what he was worried about? That after I became a Guardian, someone like him wouldn’t be good enough for me? Who then? Idleaf or mossbears were the only ones that came to mind. I wouldn’t dare trust my training into Zeewet’s wings. The mighty Miros wouldn’t kill me, but she sure as fuck would make my life hell.

“Don’t worry. Fame hasn’t gone to my head yet. Plus, I can’t think of anyone better to teach me how to fight and survive here.”

He laughed, relieved, sort of. “That’s because you don’t know many folks here in Castiana. Glad to hear that, though. So, tomorrow morning at Labyrinth Square. Let’s make it eight o’clock, given what’s about to hit you.”

“W-what, so early? Couldn’t we...”

“That won’t do. I promised to teach you some of my moves, and a promise is a promise. Prepare yourself for a rough day.”

I actually growled, but it was a happy growl. “About time.”

He laughed. “Best of luck, Little Beast.”

Before I knew it, he pulled himself up from the bar, and I watched his back as he disappeared into the crowd. “Wait! What about Idleaf?” I called out, but it was too late. The bastard said I shouldn’t worry about her. What was that supposed to mean, though? He knew very well what she was like. For all I knew, she could be bothering people in the backyard outhouses right now.

“You’re taking this Guardian thing pretty seriously, huh?” Said Thal, the bartender, as she poured two more shots bought by a man who took my mentor’s place. 

“The Captain and Deckard had our ears before you showed up,” said the man, studying me intently from head to toe. If I didn’t have those three shots in me in quick succession, that kind of look would have given me the creeps. Luckily for him, the poison I was given to drink here had already kicked in a bit, washing my unease away.

“And?” Surely there was more to it than that.

“They made sure we knew they’d have our asses if we screwed it up with the spirit. Bottoms up, Guardian.”

Kind of automatically, I downed the fourth shot of Dragon’s Fart, fought off the impact it hit me with, wiped away the tears it had brought to my eyes again, and looked around the tavern. Despite what the man said, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling. 

Or was it just the boots on my feet? 

Well, maybe, because when I found Idleaf, she wasn’t causing the disaster I imagined. Quite the opposite, actually. She seemed to be a natural party girl, already bouncing on the dance floor to the rhythms of music played by a group of five minstrels. She was having fun. 

The same could not be said about me, though. Everyone wanted to have a drink with a Guardian of the World Tree.

The only plus side I saw in that was that I didn’t have to pay for the drinks. That, and the fact that not every drink I had was a Dragon Fart. Don’t buy a girl or a guy a drink you can’t handle on your own. Rule number 8 of Drunken Filly, as I learned during my last drinking spree. And since the vast majority of those present didn’t have as strong a stomach as I did, most of what I downed was a mixture of Basilisk’s Kiss, Ogre’s Piss, Eye Splatter, and a few others. No Mojito.

Well, what could I say? The local drink naming was quite peculiar.

At one point in my spree to get hammered as soon as possible, Idleaf showed up. She simply leaped over behind the bar to Thal, mirth plastered all over her face, wagging her tail so fiercely it was a wonder she didn’t shatter the bottles and glasses behind her. Though, the bartender didn’t chase her away and just watched her with rapt fascination.

“What are you drinking, Korra’leigh? It smells funny,” she said after taking a sniff of the shot. 

“Let me guess, like a fart,” I said, chuckling at my own words like a fool. Not sure how much I drank, but regardless of my constitution, alcohol did what it did best no matter the world I was in; it dulled my senses, lowered my scruples, and quite possibly fried a few of my brain cells. Lucky me, my regeneration was not the worst.

“Yeah,” Idleaf said bluntly, nodded, and took the glass, bought for me by a man telling me how excited his kids would be to meet me. 

“It doesn’t taste like one, though. It’s kind of sweet, bitter too,” assessed the spirit, the taste of Dragon Fart after drinking the shot, rolling the liquid on her tongue and returning the contents back to the glass.

The man’s face twisted at the sight of the drink in front of me. And honestly, I didn’t blame him. Even I was hesitant to drink it after that. But then again, Dragon Fart was so strong that it burned a hole in the stomach of those with weaker dispositions. What were a few drools, then? 

“It’s a spirit thing. She can taste but not drink. That’s what their Guardians are for,” I explained, raising the glass. “To your kids.”

Spittle or not, it didn’t taste any different.