“What did you do?”
Erly walked into the bar after seeing a man fleeing in a panic. She went in way earlier when she heard punches and screams from inside only to see a massive brawl had broken out. Without any magic, all Erly could do was alert some soldiers patrolling nearby. They came in, cleaned up, and now that Erly could enter, she saw Miraca and Harlam laughing and talking about the man that Harlam had most definitely scared away. To anyone that doesn’t have magical training, Harlam would just look like a floating beer pint.
When Erly entered, Miraca cursed to herself and hid the beer behind her back as if Erly hadn’t seen her holding it. Even if she didn’t see the beer, Miraca’s face was as red as an onibara, and she couldn’t suppress any of her giggles and hiccups.
“What do you mean what did I do?” Miraca said, her speech slightly slurred. “I don’t remember doing nothing.”
“Yeah, she did nothing,” Harlam said, defending Miraca as if they weren’t after each other’s throats. “We were drinking, then there was a fight, then there wasn’t, and now we’re best pals.”
Harlam looped an arm around Miraca’s shoulder and she did the same to him. She tried to reach her arm further down to his pouch, but he smacked it away before she could even attempt it.
Erly groaned and rubbed the base of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger. There were already enough problems. She didn’t want to deal with any that wasn’t her main focus. Much less when one of those problems involved her drunken successor.
“Considering how big that fight got, I doubt you didn’t do anything to start it Miraca.”
Pressed on the issue further, Miraca found herself cornered. Erly expected Miraca to explain herself, but the moment she broke out into tears, Erly stepped back, both confused and startled.
“I’m sorry buddy,” Miraca turned to Harlam, tears in her eyes. “I told that one guy that his wife was sleeping with the other dude so I could get them fighting so they could distract you so I could take the Everstone.”
Miraca whined loudly and sniffed up dribbling snot running down her upper lip. Erly shook her head while rubbing her nose even more. She was going to get a headache from this. The future was set in stone for that to happen.
“No problem.” Harlam rubbed her shoulder and gave her a thumbs up. “I would’ve done the same in your position.”
“Really?”
“You bet!”
They laughed, Miraca’s tears instantly vanishing as if she were faking it all, and they held back their heads and gulped down more beer. Erly could barely believe what she was seeing. It was as if they had been best buddies since they were kids that got separated into their teen years only to reunite as adults. Technically that’s what Erly and Harlam were to each other, but she wouldn’t get caught dead behaving like that. Especially as a witch.
“Miraca, you were supposed to watch him, not mess around with him. What if this experience makes it hard for you to do the deed if it comes to that?”
“No issue there either.” Harlam spoke for Miraca. “We said there’d be no hard feelings if we killed each other.”
“Yep-er-oo. No hard feelings.”
“YOU WOULDN’T HAVE ANY HARD FEELINGS CAUSE YOU’D BE DEAD!!!” Erly shouted.
It seemed like they weren’t fazed by the shout cause they were both still grinning like idiots. Everyone in the bar was now focused on them, and some even noticed Harlam, though to them he’d appear like a floating glass. A vein popped into view on her forehead and her face flushed with heat.
Miraca looked at Erly, grinned, then turned back to Harlam. “So you said you wouldn’t mind sleeping with her?”
“Shut up.” Harlam smacked the back of Miraca’s head. She let out a weirdly erotic yelp and stumbled forward. Erly sighed and crossed her arms, looking at Harlam.
“Look, we can’t check into our rooms until you do. Get a room so I can lay Miraca down in hers.”
Harlam saluted as if he were obeying orders from a commanding officer. The form was off by a mile. A standard salute involved the person unfolding their right hand straight and then reaching their arm across their chest as if they were trying to grab their left shoulder. Harlam’s hand was still folded, practically forming a fist, and he didn’t even try to follow through. He barely reached past the center of his chest before ending it right above where his heart was located.
“Yes ma’am!”
He stumbled off to the bartender, not even bothering to think how strange it would be for a voice to be coming out of thin air. She hoped he would take the Everstone out of that pouch of his so he could sign in easier. Instead, he just freaked out the bartender by talking to him as is.
“Miraca,” Erly turned to her successor. She stood to attention, though her body leaned slightly to the left. “I need you to bring me Fenlin. She should be by the side doors or back exit. I’ll stay here and watch Harlam.”
“Yes ma’am.” She saluted, and despite her drunkenness, she perfectly did the salute, unlike Harlam. She wobbled off down a hallway at the back of the bar. Halfway down the corridor, she placed a hand on the wall but continued on after she regained her bearings.
Erly sighed, again, and moved to the nearest table to sit down. She could barely think. When she came up with the idea of waiting at Frelyord for Harlam to arrive, she expected the mission to be fairly simple. Wait at the bar, learn of his room number, then while he’s asleep, take the Everstone and leave. He wouldn’t have to die and they’d have the Everstone. It was a win-win.
All of that flew out the window when he spotted her. They used magic to change their appearance just so something like that wouldn’t happen. If only she realized at the time that him running from witches and being constantly bombarded by magic would awaken his third eye, then she might have come up with a Plan B. Men weren’t as attuned to magic as women, and she knew he hadn’t been trained in the magical arts, so she didn’t expect him to have such a connection with his third eye. Everything going wrong was all her fault.
Everything turned into a floundering mess. No one was going through with any thought-out plan. Though Miraca’s skills helped her easily climb the ranks, she was still a fairly new witch. Erly should have expected something like that to happen, but she didn’t, and now she paid the price for it.
Harlam might not be the only person going insane after all.
“Here’s a beer.”
Someone slid a pint of beer in front of her. She looked and saw Harlam waving at her with a giddy smile. With him being drunk, it got rid of most of his nervous jitters and tired marks. He almost looked like he was Harlam again.
“Loosen up a bit,” Harlam said. “This is the last day of our little game. Why not enjoy ourselves? Win or lose, we can at least have a good time.”
Harlam sat next to her and drank nearly a whole third of the pint. Erly looked at the beer in front of her. Reluctantly, she grabbed the handle and took a minuscule sip. The sour piss-tasting liquid fell down her throat, causing her to pucker her lips. Harlam laughed at her reaction, slapping a hand across his thigh.
“You do realize that losing the game means death, right? Why are you so excited?”
“Simple. Because I’m going to win the game.”
“So are you saying you’ll kill us?”
Harlam frowned at her question. He pointed at her, the tip of his finger nearly touching her nose. “Why are you such a downer? You do realize that if I win, you don’t have to die. If you win, I die. If I win, we can all live. What’s the problem with that?”
“The problem is that we cannot let you win. It’s in our oaths. When a witch is assigned to a mission, they must complete it at all costs. Dying be damned.”
“So you would rather die doing what you’re told by a bunch of illiterate wannabe Gods controlling this country than living and having a good time later?”
“That’s a rude way to say that, but yes. It’s an honor for a witch to die while attempting to complete their assigned task. ‘A witch will place her mission above all other priorities, even her own life.’ That is the first oath of a witch.”
Harlam looked at her with eyes so narrow she could barely make out his eye color. He took a sip of beer and rested his chin on the table. The table rattled with the amount of force he used to slam his head down. Erly had to hold her beer because if she didn’t it risked falling over. Not that she would mind it. She didn’t particularly like the taste of the liquid, and she despised the effects it had on one’s mind.
“You witches are so boring you know. Do you people just not know how to have a good time.”
“We do. It's just that ‘having a good time’ shouldn’t be held a priority over the mission.”
“And that’s why you don’t know how to have a good time.” Harlam picked up his beer and swirled it around before taking a swig. “I’mma just come right out and ask. No more dancing around the topic. What happened to you?”
Erly was taken aback by the question. What happened to her? She didn’t have any understanding of what he meant by that. Nothing really happened to her. She just grew up.
“Before you say ‘you grew up’ or whatever,” Harlam continued. Erly was surprised he knew what she was about to say. “Just because you grow up doesn’t mean you become less human. Look at Miraca. She’s got sooo much humanity in her still. Not yet crushed by that brainwashing you witches call oaths.”
Erly caught on to what specific question he was asking. “Are you saying I don’t act like a person?”
“Yep. You act like a demon, or some screwed-up God, trying to imitate humanity. I mean, what human would rather die than live? What kind of human strives forward toward their deaths? And then celebrates it for the love of God!”
The crux of what Harlam was asking had been laid bare. What kind of person had Erly become to where she would prefer death than abandoning her duty? It was a question that Erly had never expected to hear, especially from Harlam. She almost wanted to dismiss it, but there was something nudging at the back of her mind. Something that she just couldn’t describe.
Harlam waited for her to say something, and in truth, she didn’t have an answer to give. Anything she said would be met with an obnoxious rebuttal. Defend herself? He’d just say she’s brainwashed. Agree? He’d just try and push his views on her. She did have something she wanted to say back to him, however.
“I could ask the same thing about you.” Erly took another sip of beer, this time not even bothering to acknowledge the taste. “You changed as well. I remember the energetic kid that apologized to a worm you accidentally stepped on. Then I heard about you killing witches. Can you explain that?”
“I didn’t mean to kill them. That was all a mistake. I didn’t know they would…” Harlam grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, guzzling down even more of the devil’s liquid. “Things went out of control and I had to kill them. If I didn’t, then I would’ve died.”
“Well if you don’t want to die then just give me the Everstone.”
Harlam gritted his teeth so ferociously that she could hear the grinding of bone on bone from a seat over. His eyes went bloodshot, pupils dilated. Blemishes that were hidden from his jovial attitude reappeared as he turned toward Erly with a blinding fury.
“I’m doing this so I don’t die!”
Erly’s eyes widened in shock. Harlam realized he was out of control and took several deep breaths. He muttered something under his breath, almost like he was talking to some invisible presence. This was all the proof Erly needed to see.
“The Everstone is doing something to your mind. Does it speak to you?”
“It’s not…”
“Don’t give me that. You wouldn’t have gone out of control like that otherwise. Whatever that thing’s telling you, don’t listen to it.” He said that he was doing everything so he didn’t die. She could use that. “If you have some sort of disease or something that’ll kill you, I can bet you there are better solutions than going to the Evergrave.”
“The disease I’m carrying is uncurable with modern medicine and magic. The only thing that can help me is the Everstone. End of discussion.”
Erly reached out a hand, but Harlam stood before she could grab him. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a key with a number engraved on the side.
“My room’s forty-two. You can sleep there or get your own. Doesn’t matter either way. You’re not getting the Everstone.”
Harlam walked down the bar hallway past Fenlin and Miraca who were walking toward Erly. Fenlin kept her eye on Harlam all the way until he made his way up the stairs all the while carrying Miraca over her shoulder. Miraca was out cold, sleeping with a snot bubble expanding out of her nose and drool running down her lips. Such deep sleep was disturbing for a witch.
Erly grumbled and drank the rest of the half-empty beer glass in one go. Taste be damned, she needed to do something to satiate her irritation. Harlam was going insane and she couldn’t do anything to stop it except try and take the Everstone back.
But what if retrieving the Everstone doesn’t fix him, Erly thought. He was dying of some incurable disease. What if that really is the only way he can be cured?
Tears spilled down Erly’s cheek. She slammed the empty beer pint on the table and groaned. Thinking about how to save her childhood friend just became much more complicated.
“I’m guessing everything’s busted.”
Fenlin stood next to Erly, looking down on her superior with an emotionless gaze. Just like Miraca, Fenlin ditched the magic that changed their appearance. Her robe drifted freely from her neck to the tip of her ankles. Erly was the only one of them to keep up the magic, but she was bordering on just releasing it as well.
“More than you know.” Erly stood up, her face and chest burning. Whether that was from her frustration or the beer, she didn’t know. “Either room forty-one or forty-three. That’s the room we’ll be staying in.”
Fenlin nodded and walked over to the bartender, carrying unconscious Miraca with her. Nighttime was almost upon them. The final phase of Harlam’s and her journey was nearing its end. She needed to think up of a plan. One where Harlam lives, she gets back the Everstone, and where she cures Harlam’s disease.
