The tavern was dark.
It was always dark at this time of day.
The whores were meeting with their clients, the drunks lusting over their drinks. It began to reek of alcohol and sweat at this time of day, and Minathi hated it.
Alcohol always reminded him of his first blood.
He'd taken that life with such ease, and he did not like to think of it.
Minathi reached into his pouch and searched around. The coins clinked, but he only needed a single one to pay for his juice.
There it was, a coin with a drakan on it. He tossed the coin to the jolly old fellow on the other side of the counter. As he was about to order something else, he heard a commotion. He was going to ignore it until the words got loud.
"-YOU LITTLE KIDS! YOU CAN'T STEAL FROM PUNDO!"
Minathi chuckled. Someone else had beaten the old man in a game of Chuckles.
Minathi turned around and watched as the owner's daughter walked behind the counter. Her eyes caught his, and he motioned to get another drink.
She walked up and said, "What'd you like, 'Na?"
He replied, "I want a simple Coco juice. Pour some cinnamon on it, too."
A smile came across her face before she turned around. Minathi leaned back in the wooden stool. He began to think about what to do with all the money from his last mission.
He'd probably do the same thing he always did, lend it with interest.
A grin spread as he thought about the amount of money he kept making from lending money, especially when they saw his blade. It worked every time, and they always thought they could escape him.
As he thought, a figure came up behind him and slapped a bag of coins on the counter in front of him.
A gruff voice said, "There it is. All of it plus the interest."
Minathi turned and said, "I won't need to come after you, correct? There should be six goldwings and three hundred silver wings in there from interest."
"Yes, there is. I've also got another thing for you..."
At that, Minathi frowned; he felt the point of a blade touch the back of his head.
He replied, "This is a development. Have I wronged you, goodkin?"
"You don't belong in these parts, so I'm gonna take you-"
Minathi moved with lightning speed. Landing on his elbows, he kicked the man in the stomach, pushing him away and knocking his chair over.
The man fell, stunned.
Minathi heard the mug of juice set down behind him. He reached out to grab it before drinking a sip. He rested his elbows on the counter as he stood looking down on the man.
He said, "We are in Remous. I thought all were welcome in this kingdom, Nys."
The man spat blood onto the floor and brandished his sword.
"You're a cuck from the north. You ain't welcome in my kingdom."
Minathi shook his head disappointedly and took another gulp of his juice. It was really good, and with the cinnamon, it was even better. He set it down and breathed out.
"Listen, I'm going to take that bag of coins, and I'm gonna sit back down. Don't start any more trouble, Nys."
Nys stood and walked away. Minathi already knew he'd be back in a few hours. He was not going to let such a valuable amount of money go. Nys could always intimidate the average peasant, but Minathi had already taken the man's finger.
This wasn't the first time he'd lent money to the man, either. Despite Nys getting frustrated all the time, he never stopped borrowing from Minathi. At this current point, Minathi felt pity for the man.
However, the juice was so good, he forgot about it. Instead, he sat and looked upon the daughter of the owner. Underneath his hood, with his head bent, she couldn't see him looking at her.
She was beautiful, perhaps not as beautiful as the women who walked the streets of Maxriana. He would know of them, too; he'd grown up around them. It was impossibly hard to deal with the women in that Queendom. Most either bed women, or if they did bed men, they still preferred to bed women.
Oh, how he did not miss his home. No, this was his new place; he needed to remind himself of that sometimes. Sitting on the stool, watching her move around behind the counter. He'd liked her ever since he'd arrived. Upon first seeing her, he'd known he wanted her, but he could not have her.
He was of a clan that had been wiped off the map and absorbed. Women always want to move up in society, not stay where they were.
A true pity.
For hours, he stared at her until the darkness in the tavern leaked outside. It was at this point that he decided to order his last drink. The darkness always made him want one thing.
Warmth, inside and out. There were two ways to accomplish that.
"Dany, give me a single bottle of rum."
The girl turned her face, twisted with concern.
"No. You do this every time you come back from one of your 'missions'. No."
Yes. She did this every time, and it only reminded him how much of a miserable life he was leading. Her father owned a tavern, and yet she did not drink. Her father let men bed people in the rooms above, yet she was unbothered. She stayed good, oh, how he envied her ability to do that
He said, "I need it. You can't make me a fish out of the water."
"No, because you're going to approach one of the girls. Then you go upstairs and have sex like a maniac until it is light outside again. No."
He was about to go straight to her father; he always let it happen. However, something told him to turn towards the door.
Nys entered with a few hired men; it seems he really did want his money back after all.
Three kids stood up as they entered, as if to confront him. They were unremarkable, average kids. One of them was a girl who had red hair, an impossible thing for a Southeresse.
Another was a boy with black hair tied in a bun. The last was a boy with brown hair, and taller than the other two. They weren't here when Nys came the first time.
The black haired boy spoke, "Nys! We need you to give us back what you stole!"
Nys grinned, "He's the one with the money."
The children turned, eyes filled with anger. It was then that Minathi realized they were talking about him.
He pointed to himself, "Me, yeah, I have it. That's because Nys doesn't know how to keep his coins in his pocket."
Nys growled and said, "Kill him if you want it, and you'll get even more."
This was not good. He could feel Dany's eyes on the back of his head. He'd promised not to have fights inside the tavern.
So he said, "Let's take it outside, yeah?"
Nys said, "Ha! As if I would do that! You'll run!"
"Fine. Have it your way, and get those kids killed. I'll let their parents know it was you."
A calm entered Minathi's body. The fight was going to happen. The music began to beat from his heart. Minathi took the cloak from his body. Revealing his arms, which were covered in scratches.
He grabbed his blade at his hip and smashed his lips into a thin line. The beat was picking up pace inside. The first words were coming his way.
Nys spoke, with hatred, "Kill him!"
Minathi moved with lightning speed as the kids reached for weapons. The beat guiding him, he felt their heartbeats quicken. Then he heard them calm down; his hand had already knocked them to the ground, unconscious.
There were six men. All of them were armed with decent iron blades. Those were nothing compared to the blade he had, forged by the South Isle of Artists. Blademasters were trained and taught there; they knew how to build a blade.
Artists are thought to know magic, so when they study blades. There's only one result: spell forged blades. Minathi did not know who specifically made his, but he knew it parted air with terrifying expertise.
The six men learnt that.
Six sounds of skin, muscles, and bone tearing later, Minathi stood behind Nys.
"Do you have any coins on you?"
The smell of piss filled Minathi's nose, and he laughed.
Nys replied, "N-no."
"Goodkin, I'm taking your arm."
"No!"
Nys moved, but Minathi heard him long before he saw the man move. His blade's tip slipped straight into the man's head. Nys stopped moving immediately, his brain having been shut off permanently.
The other six men began trying to get up. They'd each lost an entire arm, disconnected at the shoulder joint.
It was not a good scene, but Minathi couldn't see the blood with how dark it already was in there. So he did not care.
He moved towards the counter. Motioning for his bottle of rum. The old man tossed a bottle to him and grabbed a pouch of coins. He pointed towards the men on the floor and then nodded.
Minathi replied, "Don't care, old man, I'm going to sleep alone tonight. Thanks for the rum."
He did not sleep. Neither was he alone.