Culad tidied up the bar, changed his clothes, and flipped the sign from "Closed" to "Open." Outside, a line had already formed. At the front stood a broad-shouldered man.
"Come on, Yari, we're waiting. Ten Oskor beers for all of us."
"Aye aye, gentlemen. Take a seat, I'll get them ready." Culad—known as Yari in the bar—began pouring beers into glasses.
Nicolas sat alone at the bar, lost in thought.
"Should I leave this city? Go somewhere no one knows me? Could I even survive? I've never won a fight."
A man approached his table, pulled out a chair, and sat across from him. His clothes were tattered, marking him as poor. His auburn hair was tied in a messy bun.
Nicolas raised his head slightly. "Ki-Kirad? Excuse me, you—"
Before he could finish, the man cut in. "How did you get out of that cave alive? I was the only one of us three who escaped. That poison got into my bones."
His arms were hidden beneath his cloak. Slowly, he pulled them free, revealing skin turned purple and gelatinous. Though they still held their shape, they looked damp and unstable. They sat in the corner of the bar, Kirad keeping his back to the crowd, ensuring no one saw him.
"I don't remember much," Nicolas admitted. "It's all a blur. Which cave?"
Kirad tucked his arms back into the cloak. "Strange that you remember my name but not that. Stranger still that you made it out alive—you were chained."
"Why was I chained?" Nicolas would normally react with anger, but tonight, he was too drained.
"I can't say here, but listen—take care of yourself. Two of my followers died in that cave. They were free to move, but you were bound. You should have died, yet here you are. I'm fast, yet I lost my arms. I can't even hold anything."
He reached for Nicolas's glass. As soon as his fingers touched it, the glass sank into his gelatinous hand.
"Feels like a damn booger," Kirad muttered.
"Tell me why I was chained."
"I can't. And this isn't some favor—because as far as the world knows, I never made it out. Take care of yourself, Nicolas. I'm leaving this city. You won't see me again."
As Kirad stood and walked out, bar patrons eyed him like he was a freak. Nicolas, troubled by their conversation, left soon after. He pulled his cloak tight, lowered his hat, and made his way to the castle.
The guards at the entrance let him pass without question. Inside, he climbed to his small fourth-floor room—a simple space with a bed, a closet, and a table. He lay down and drifted into dreamless sleep.
In the middle of the night, he awoke. A silhouette stood at his window. Chains hung from the figure's arms and legs.
Nicolas blinked. The silhouette vanished.
He shut his eyes again and fell back asleep.