"That," Spice said quietly, tapping away with his finger at the table, "is what you get when marrying an academic to a warrior. A brawler spewing mystic theories.
A foolish punch-thirsty haulier of ancient parchment. You tend to lose sight of the simpler things in life. Because of that, your vision is too grand to take notice of what is considered below you..."
"I haven't asked you what you think of my profession or character." "But now you're weak. You have to correct that mistake if you don't seek an early demise."
"Spice! No sermon. Tell, goddammit, tell me what I've had to prepare myself for." Spice didn't humour me immediately. That was no good sign. At. All.
He rummaged behind the counter, fetched himself a pretty mug and emptied a whole bottle of extra strong liquor brewed according to the rules of old.
"Here," he deposited the mug right in front of me, just a small distance away from the youth, "you will need it."
At the last visit, she showed her rejection towards strong alcoholic smells. I vividly remembered that I had had to keep the mug far when I wasn't drinking.
As for now? Not even a peep. "Five months." "What?" "Her damaged lifeforce lasts for five standardised months at most.
Given your... unusual relationship, you're on the clock too." The mug I was raising to my lips slid out of my hands. Only my tail spared me from Spice's sharp tongue.
"You're serious? Really?!" I didn't get an answer to my rhetorical question, of course. If anybody else told me such, I wouldn't necessarily have believed the lunacy.
But this was Spice we were talking about. An immortal so closely affiliated with death, he would never make a joke out of such proclamations.
"This means..." Unbeknownst, my free hand was digging deeply into the counter, crushing both wood and stone.
"I'd be happy if you don't take it out on my innocent furniture. I've a shop to run, even though it has mostly got a bad rep. For whatever reasons."
Spice was being considerate here, for in the past he'd have kicked me out in the streets at least if I showed even the slightest intention to damage anything he considered his possession.
It had happened, for sure. My hand begrudgingly let go of the counter and dug deep into my upper arm instead. The pain reassured me somehow.
As long as I felt it, I was alive. "Should've really taken Noxins earlier." Splitting off only a tiny sliver from the intangible blob of mysterious consistency floating in the air, I gobbled up my part.
The youth got hers too, which conjured a slightly rosier colour to her face. At least that part of bloodline fusion was working just as expected, even if such was never my intention.
"There is a way out. For the weakened you, it is very hard but really the only shot you have at survival. Baptism of Gula."
"Never!" My reply came so fast and definite even the youth looked at me, her big eyes unfocused. She moved an arm, wanted to grab something.
Yet in the end, her limb fell down weakly. Seeing her like this pained my heart for some strange reason.
"Denial of reality. I see..." "No. It's not that. Spice, everything connected to Gula is forbidden. For a very good reason too."
"Indeed. Scantly a soul might remember that. Of those who do, you have to hide from regardless." "But—"
"Survival?" Spice got a point. My mind knew it, but my heart protested furiously. Undoubtedly something terrific would happen if I gave in.
However, the alternative was... death. I was by far no misanthrope but here I had no choice. "I don't want to die..."
"Indeed. Immortals fear death the most. You are no exception, nor shall you be. This is no insult, only the truth."
"Can you whisk me away now?" Spice shook his head fiercely, muttering some crooked incantations I hardly understood.
"No." I flinched, my eyes hardening. "You promised—" "I told you not now. Haven't yet gathered the necessary mana." I doubted that.
"Plus, you did quite a number on those poor bastards out there. Now your very existence is like a pain in the ass for everyone." This was for sure his main reason, of that I was certain.
"Therefore, if I act suspiciously, they'll come for me. Both camps will." "Why both?" The royal camp was easy to guess. But the non-humans?
Spice told me their reason, he wasn't stingy with the information. "Because you escaped. They wanted to invite you in their midst, but you spat in their faces."
"I did no—shit. They understood it as such..." "Yes." I got the feeling my butt was glued to the cheap stool, unable to get up.
As things were, I could only hope to convince Spice. But I already knew that was an impossible task to complete.
"I don't have the time, Spice. You said so yourself. Five months for the Baptism of Gula. The requirements cannot be fulfilled just like this."
"This I know," he seemed rather unperturbed by the nervousness my voice contained, "but you have no choice.
See it as such. Noxins intake demands that you cultivate as soon as possible. Only then will it help beyond the mere placebo effect."
I knew what he would say next. I didn't like it one bit. "You're not ready for the dangers out there." That hit home. "...I hate it when you're right.
Spice, you bastard, your words are always hard to hear." The innkeeper's eyes clouded over for a moment as if he remembered things he'd have rather kept to the forgetful back of his mind.
"Enough," Spice eventually replied, "I'll provide you with the feed necessary for the little thing. But for now, keep yourself out of sight.
Two turns right and one left, there's an empty room to stay in. I'll call you when the promised patron arrives." After a short break, he added, "until then... Stay. Calm. Please?"
I felt insulted. I really did. Nonetheless, the voice of reason as well as the Great Consciousness had much to add to my disastrous inclination of starting a fight everywhere.
The greater my recovery, the better my chances. Following Spice's indication, I found the room. "But the clock's ticking..."
Yet somehow my mind didn't follow. Then there was this distant explosion I heard. "Fuck..." I might remain here for much longer.