Gulp!
Beer indeed tasted best in Greenland. He had been here for long, and every time he gulped, the refreshing taste was always there to calm his nerves. Too calm.
"James, you're gonna drink another one?" the bartender asked, her tone quiet and lovable.
James was already feeling dizzy, everything gradually spinning. "Of course, love. Pour another one," he replied, his green eyes on his touchscreen phone, dialing Khorn's number once more. The ring went through, but—
"Why is this girl not answering…?!" he bellowed, utterly frustrated, as he dialed again.
The bartender came closer, filling his cup with more beer. "You got your girl here, who takes care of you, brings you in when you piss and sleep on the snow, and you try to call another one before me," she said, her yellow eyes glaring at the hefty, muscular man who was on the edge of getting drunk again.
James smiled. "Sorry, Julie. Just family business. It felt like my lor… father figure was in town, and if he is, she's the one who will have the answers," he said.
She smiled back, coming closer. "Oh, your father who left you, abandoned you? Why do you still care, my love? Focus on me," she beckoned.
James paused as he sensed something, his instincts, built through a thousand years of hardship, were stirring. He turned, seeing the usually empty bar now totally full. "Yeah…" he muttered, turning back to the blonde beauty before him. "I hate him, but what to do? He is the man who raised me. If he's back, I have some questions—questions I need answers to, no matter what," he added.
Julie couldn't help but look down a bit. "Sorry to hear that. He must mean a lot to you. I hope you find him," she muttered, taking out something from her pocket, akin to white powder.
"You don't need to be sorry for that selfish cunt. He's just an old, old man," he said.
"Haaa… how old?" she asked.
"You wouldn't believe it even if I said," he replied, drinking the whole mug in one full swipe. "Haaaa… this old man has been around since the creation of the world, Julie. So yeah… too old."
"...."
She couldn't help but gape in awe. Trying to dismiss it, she took the mug again, gently slipped in the white powder, and refilled the beer. "That's your drunkenness talking, James," she muttered.
"Told ya," he muttered, ready to drink again. But his green eyes caught something as he placed the mug down. Outside the window, there was something strange. He stood up, leaving the drink behind and walking to the window, as birds chirped more and more, filling the tree.
He was on the second floor of the bar. As he looked down, many reindeer and animals were there, all looking at him, and him only. "…What the fuck?!" he whispered, as he remembered. This, this had happened before. Maybe a hundred years ago, when the golden old man was still around.
'Was I right? Is this a sign?' he questioned, a bit excited. "He is back. He must be," he murmured, taking his jacket from the chair. Julie watched him, slowly growing nervous.
"James, where are you going again?!" she shouted.
"Julie, thanks for everything," he said as he wore his jacket properly. "And sorry… I might... not return."
The girl hurried forward, her steps abnormally fast, grabbing his hand. "What?! You're just gonna leave me? Just like that?!" she cried.
"...Let's talk inside," he said, taking her back into the bar, into the storage room. And before he could even speak, she was already in the breach of tears, her eyes cast down, as James couldn't help but bite his lips.
"Baby, Julie, here, look at me," he said.
Her hand tightened on his wrist, fingers digging in with unnatural strength. A faint shimmer passed through her yellow eyes, something not quite human—and the white powder on the bar counter began to glow softly, reacting to the air between them.
James felt the grip; it pressed in as his thoughts ran suspiciously. Maybe he was a bit drunk, or maybe it was just his feelings clouding in—he ignored it, scoffing at her tears.
"I need to go, love. The old man is calling me, I think." he whispered. The moment those words slipped out, the grip grew stronger and stronger; even his tight muscles could feel it.
"No, no, noooo," she pleaded. "I—I want you to stay, stay with me," she begged, holding his cheek. "Babe, I know it's late, but let's just get out of here. You'll slowly forget about your father and all that. We will marry and… and maybe have children together, huh? How's that?" she asked, her tears streaming more and more.
James huffed as he closed his eyes. He wanted it, oh, how much he wanted that life, but… "No," he replied.
"No…?"
"Yes. No. I'm sorry," he said, distancing himself from her, her strong grip no longer able to hold him.
She gazed at his back, her hands quaking and shaking as she took out a knife from her back, with many runes attached, runes that would sharpen the edge far more than it should.
"Then you leave me no choice…" she muttered.
James turned, but before he could even blink, her swift legs carried her forward, the knife piercing his chest, directly into his heart. His green eyes went wide in pure shock. "…Julie?... W..Why?" he muttered as he gradually fell back, her tears spilling more and more.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I loved you… I really did."
The others from the bar gradually stood up, seeing the blood spread across the floor. "That piece of shit finally died," one of them said. And not just him, every man and woman stood, their eyes glowing yellow.
"Congratulations, Julie. Father will be pleased," the man said, coming closer, his breathing choking. "Herald cunts, always getting in our way. Stop crying for him already, the act is over."
Julie said nothing. She only stood up, her knees and hands bloodied. For years she had been with him, dosing him with acid and weakening him ever so slowly. But at some point the act had become reality.
They walked away, leaving his body behind, and set the place ablaze. The bar slowly burned from the outside in, the fire reaching the storage room, alcohol and rum igniting together.
But from the window, a white pigeon flew in, landing on James's corpse, watching him as it twitched its neck.
"Wake up, James," a familiar voice spoke. With that echo, The knife slowly pulled itself out of his chest, the blood that had spilled everywhere drawing back in.
"Wake up." it echoed again as his body jolted and jolted more, like something was forcing his body to restart.
"Haaa!!" he shouted, gasping as his eyes flew open, breathing in smoke.
Cough! Cough! Cough!
He saw the pigeon, now on his shoulder, the scent undeniably familiar, Lord Aron.
"…Lord?" he called as the pigeon only watched him. "Haaa… I should have known," he thought, looking at the knife. He had his suspicions, but he ignored them. He was suspicious for years and years but he ignored it all.
"Stupid… why am I always so stupid?" he lamented, trying to stand as the fire caught him, already burning his clothes. The pigeon flew from his shoulder, showing him the path as it escaped through the open window. James knew this wasn't the time to lament, this wasn't time to regreat, his lord had shown him the way, and he needed to follow it.
He ran—ran toward the window, his whole body burning, crashing through the glass and leaping out. From outside, the demigods saw the man encased in fire jump from the second floor, like the second sun had appered.
"What the hell?" they muttered in shock as the man landed in a puddle of snow, the fire snuffing out. "…You lot!" James shouted as he gradually stood, the fire not burning a single part of his skin, only his clothes.
He stood there utterly naked, his body glistening with divinity. "…will see the end. No, I will show you, personally."
'Charge…'
{Charging… 100%}