He threw his head back, chugging down the dark liquid, and plunked the cup down on the counter, pushing it back towards the server.
"Another, please," he politely requested.
"Eliezer," the man said, "are you sure you're alright? That's your seventh in less than an hour."
He sighed, resting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Martin," he told him. "It's merely the stress of it that's got me."
"Nerves, eh?" he asked, fixing another drink. "For what? Your speech tonight?"
Eliezer nodded.
"Why?" he responded with laughter. "Everyone's looking forward to it."
"Yes, but..." He sighed, sliding his hands under his dark rimmed glasses and pressing against his eyes. "They want me to take over running the congregation," he anxiously admitted, "and I'm not meant to."
"What!" the bar keep exclaimed with astonishment. "But, why ever not? Eliezer, that's a great honor."
"It is," he agreed. "However, oversight is a great privilege for the which I am entirely unqualified. I am young and unfocused. I think there are several men they should prefer before me, but what? They see a man of who speaks with eloquence, whose writing is in fashion, and must that mean he's fit to be an overseer? The people need divine care and guidance to prosper. I offer mere conviction and human eloquence. You see? I am neither fit nor able. Now, if you would, please," he said, grasping with his hand.
"Here you are," Martin said, placing a steaming cup of hot tea down in front of him.
"Thank you." He smiled, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain cup.
"They must know you plan to decline, then?" Martin suggested, wiping his hands on his apron.
Eliezer shook his head. "I don't think it even crossed their minds. I merely overheard it as a part of passing conversation. They plan to ask me after tonight's meeting, and how can I deny them?"
"Well, I..."
Matin's attempt at consolation and advise was promptly interrupted by the sound of the door being thrown open. It hit against the wall with a loud bang and a mighty roar went up from the men sipping tea at tables.
The man who entered was tall, lean, and muscular. He was a light skinned man with platinum hair and eyes like glaciers.
Eliezer covered his eyes when he saw him confidently descend the few wooden stairs, playing to the crowd with waves and loud, joking acknowledgements.
'Ignatius...'
Martin laughed, forcefully patting his arm.
"Hey, Ignatius," the shopkeeper called out, "tell your friend here to calm down! He's on his eighth tonight and hasn't been here an hour! Not that I would separate a man from his tea, but..."
"Eliezer Webber, drunk on tea!" Ignatius exploded into a fit of rolling laughter. "Only in Delphi would that be considered a possible indiscretion." He laughed again as he hurried over, giving Eliezer a slap on the back as he took his seat on the barstool beside him. "Stout, please, Martin," he said, smacking his hands against the wooden board between them.
"You've got it!" the barkeep whimsically consented.
Eliezer lifted his head and looked questioningly at his Euphean friend. "Stout?"
"I miss home sometimes, Eliezer," Ignatius told him. His face was a splitting grin.
Eliezer shook his head. "You shouldn't be drinking."
"I can mix some with your tea, if you like," Ignatius jokingly offered.
"Come off it!" Eliezer insisted. "Don't give it to him, Martin; he's drunk already."
"I can tell. He's in far too good a mood, much better than yours," Martin laughed, pouring the dark, frothy liquid into a tall glass.
Eliezer frowned. "What are you even doing with this, Martin? You don't serve alcohol."
Martin's dark eyes strayed from the orangey glint of his own. "I keep a little on hand," he sheepishly admitted.
He sat speechless with his mouth open, not knowing what to say.
"Look, Eliezer," he said, trying to justify his works, "not everyone in Damascus is a Kingsmen. Delphians like tea, but sometimes people need something... a little more. I'm merely providing a service to them."
Eliezer sighed. 'Surely, he can't actually believe that.'
"It's blood money, Martin," Eliezer reminded him sternly.
Ignatius shot him a glance. His eyes were wild and nervous.
Eliezer smirked. 'Uncomfortable? You should be. What on Caldör were you thinking ordering that with me sitting here?'
Martin set the mug on the counter, unwilling to look at him. "It's... good money, Eliezer."
He sighed, exasperated.
Ignatius took hold of the handle and began to sip on his drink, licking the lightly colored froth from his lips.
Eliezer grabbed his cup and quickly downed his tea, slamming the cup down on the table in frustration as he stood to go. The room became quiet, and the men watched him as he went. The short walk to the stairs seemed awkward and long, and he began to feel extremely self-conscious.
He felt Martin staring at him, but he wouldn't embarrass himself by turning around. Their conversation had ended. He opened the door and left, relieved to have the eyes off of him.
'What were they thinking?' He sighed, leaning back against the door, and closed his eyes. 'You see? This is precisely why I shouldn't be appointed overseer. Not yet, anyway. I'm far too easily frustrated and entirely reactionary at the most inopportune times. I do apologize for that. Perhaps you could help me.'
He opened his eyes and began his walk down the dirt roads through the forest towards home. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet as he went, kicking up dust. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, passively watching the dust cover his trousers.
'Ignatius... of all people, how could he do this? For Himmel's sake! The man helps to run the orphanage. Says he misses home. That's like a man who takes a woman because he says he's lonely! He chose to come here. No one forced him. Besides, it's no excuse...'
He stopped in his tracks, and his thoughts stopped with him. He blinked, still staring at the ground beneath him.
'What am I doing?'
He lifted his head, turning his gaze upward, and the orange flecks of his amber eyes caught the light as the sun fell on his face. He smiled, breathing in the peace.
"All is well."