"Go! Five more steins! Hahaha! Tonight, we feast!" Fleda shouted, raising her stein high, the frothy beer threatening to spill over. "Alruna! Don't just take one! Come on, drink up!" she continued, her face flushed with excitement. "Sister! Stop daydreaming! Dance with us!"
The Fleda I knew—serious, justice-driven—was now wild-eyed, clutching a frothy stein of beer. At Betrunkener Seemann, a dockside tavern, we three reveled after accepting the 500-Gulden mission. How did Fleda end up like this? Rewind half an hour...
"Adele's acting strange," Alruna muttered, watching me stride ahead, slapping my thighs and humming. "She's been... bouncy."
"Let her be," Fleda sighed. "Rare to see her this giddy."
"Hey! You two!" I spun, grinning. "Tonight's on me! I found this tavern in Nordhafen—best curry and ale in Aureo!"
Fleda eyed me skeptically but relented.
After walking nearly twenty minutes, the tavern welcomed us with sailor shanties and the rich aroma of spices. Harp music wove through laughter, sailors danced in corners, and the air hummed with warmth. We claimed a table near the stage, luckily avoiding the usual crowds.
"See? Isn't it marvelous?" I gestured expansively.
Fleda's eyes wandered. "It's lively."
A young barmaid with freckles and a sprightly step approached us. "What'll it be, dearies?"
"Their curry's divine!" I insisted. "Three orders, please! And three Maßkrug Weizenbiers!"
Fleda raised an eyebrow. "Maßkrugs? Those are enormous!"
I winked. "Go big or go home!"
"I'm in. It sounds delightful," said Alruna, smiling softly.
As we waited, we soaked in the ambiance. The timber walls were adorned with nautical artifacts—weathered maps, coiled ropes, and gleaming brass compasses. The scent of the sea mingled with simmering stews and freshly baked bread.
Our food arrived promptly. The curry was a vibrant golden hue, steam curling enticingly upwards. Nestled atop were spears of grilled asparagus, their tips charred to perfection.
"Dig in!" I proclaimed, already spooning a generous portion onto my plate.
Ten minutes later, we devoured the dishes. Fleda's skepticism melted with the first bite.
"Mmm! You were right!" She licked her spoon. "This is heavenly!"
"Told you!" I chugged my beer, foam clinging to my lips. "The ale's sharp too!" The beer was crisp, with a hint of citrus—a perfect complement to the rich curry.
"Refreshing." Alruna nodded, though her sips were cautious.
As we relaxed, a grizzled sailor with a bushy gray beard and twinkling eyes sauntered over to our table. "New faces, eh?" he rasped, his voice roughened by years at sea. "Handlin' three Maßkrugs like veterans!"
"We aim to impress," I lifted my stein in a mock toast.
He chuckled heartily. "Aye, that you do! Not often we see lasses with such gusto." His gaze shifted to Fleda. "Say, why not grace us with a tune? Your friend here looks like she has the voice of a songbird."
"Me? No, I—"
"Go on, Fleda!" I urged, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your voice'll charm 'em!"
Alruna nodded encouragingly. "We'd love to hear you sing."
She hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering between us and the expectant faces nearby. Finally, she sighed softly. "Alright, just one song."
The sailor clapped his hands together. "That's the spirit!" He gestured grandly toward the stage.
Fleda made her way up, the room's chatter dimming in anticipation. The harpist, a slender woman with golden hair, offered her instrument with a gracious nod. As Fleda settled herself, whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Good evening," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'd like to sing 'The Miller and His Mill Wheel.'"
An attentive hush fell over the tavern. Even the clinking of steins seemed to pause.
She began to sing:
"Am Bach steht die Mühle so alt,
Das Mühlrad dreht sich im kalten Kalt.
Der Müller singt ein Lied so frei,
Von seiner Arbeit und Seligkeit..."
Her voice—clear as springwater—wrapped around the tavern. Sailors froze, steins halfway to lips. Even Alruna's stoic mask slipped into awe.
"...Er dankt dem Himmel für den Tag,
Und singt ein Lied, bevor er lag."
The final note hung. It lingered in the air, resonating with unspoken feelings. A heartbeat of silence followed before the tavern erupted into thunderous applause.
"Encore!" someone shouted.
"Another!" echoed voices from every corner.
Fleda descended the stage, her cheeks flushed not from drink but from the exhilaration of performance. She was immediately surrounded by patrons offering free drinks, words of praise tumbling over one another.
"That was incredible!" Alruna exclaimed, her eyes shining.
"I had no idea you could sing like that," I added, genuinely awed. "You stole the show!"
What began as one song spiraled into a raucous night. Fleda was coaxed back on stage multiple times, each performance met with growing enthusiasm. Alruna and I joined in dancing, our steps clumsy but hearts light.
Hours passed in a joyful blur. We sang old ballads, learned new dances, and shared toasts with strangers who felt like lifelong friends. The tavern became a world unto itself, where worries were checked at the door.
***
By the time we stumbled out into the crisp night air, the moon hung high—a luminous orb casting a silvery sheen over the quiet streets. Fleda was slung between Alruna and me, her steps wobbly.
"Seven steins..." Fleda mumbled, her head lolling slightly. "Never... again..."
"You really held your own," Alruna giggled, a rare sound that made me smile.
"Serves you right," I teased, adjusting my grip to better support Fleda. "But admit it—you had fun."
She managed a weak grin. "Perhaps... maybe a little..."
The journey back to Claudia's mansion was filled with occasional hiccup from our overindulgent sister. The cool breeze was sobering, whispers of the sea reminding us of the day's earlier resolve.
Inside the mansion, the silence was comforting. Leofric and the twins were absent, perhaps visiting acquaintances. Manfred was nowhere to be seen—likely off with them. Alruna, meanwhile, collapsed onto her bed, snoring instantly.
I then brewed lemon tea from the ingredients available in the kitchen. The familiar tasks of boiling water and preparing cups provided a grounding routine. The fragrant aroma of lemons filled the air as I poured the steaming liquid into cups.
I shoved a cup to Fleda, who was slumped on the bed, her eyes half closed. "Drink."
"M'kay..." she murmured, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.
We sipped in silence, the only sounds being the gentle sipping of tea and the distant hooting of an owl. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows that danced with the flickering candlelight.
My eyelids grew heavy, the warmth of the tea and the exhaustion of the day catching up to me. I glanced at Fleda, who was fighting a losing battle against sleep.
"Thanks... Sister," Fleda mumbled, already asleep.
I set down my cup, body heavy. The last thing I saw was the full moon—a silent witness to our fleeting joy—before darkness claimed me.
***
"Hurry up, Sis! Claudia's waiting at the Guild!"
"Alright, alright!"
After last night's drunken haze, Fleda had returned to her usual self by morning. Under the overcast sky, Fleda, Alruna, and I prepared to meet Claudia and the others at the Guild. Before leaving, we bid farewell to Mr. Leofric, Amalia, Amelie, and Manfred.
That morning, Manfred was even more insufferable than usual—his shirt crumpled, his hair a tangled mess, dried drool clinging to his lips, and that infuriating smirk plastered across his face. He leaned against his doorframe, picking his nose lazily as we passed.
"Take care, sisters," I said, turning to Amalia and Amelie.
"You too!" Amalia clasped her hands, her voice trembling.
"We'll pray for your safe return," Amelie added softly.
I chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll come back in one piece."
Manfred snorted. "Don't forget souvenirs!"
This brat...
I ruffled his hair roughly, making him yelp.
"Aaaah! Stop it!"
"Hahaha! Such lively energy so early." Leofric emerged, his booming laughter filling the hall. "Safe travels, all of you. I'll cook up a feast of Rösti when you return."
"Thank you, Leofric. We're always grateful for your hospitality," I replied, bowing slightly.
With final waves, we stepped out into the misty dawn.
***
"Morning, Claudia!"
"Took you long enough. Come in—I'll introduce your new teammates."
The Guild's creaky door groaned as we entered Claudia's office. Three unfamiliar figures sat across the room: a dwarf with a fiery beard, a radiant elf, and a regal centuria with the head of an eagle. Claudia motioned for us to sit, her presence cutting through the awkward silence.
"Let's start with introductions. Grigore, you first."
The dwarf thumped his chest, his voice thunderous. "Grigore Lukeforina, from the Central Peaks. I forge weapons and wield 'em. Elf-dwarf relations ain't perfect, but let's make this work." His scars and piercing blue eyes spoke of battles fought, yet his rugged charm was undeniable.
The elf smiled, her golden hair shimmering. "Marcia Ersten. Claudia's old friend. I specialize in long and medium range Script. Pleasure to meet you." Her voice was honey, with an almost ethereal beauty—enough to make any mortal's heart skip a beat. I caught myself staring for a moment.
The eagle-headed centuria bowed stiffly. "Kasparian Eagle. Archery and swordsmanship. A comrade of Claudia's from her youth." His black suit contrasted sharply with his avian features, exuding an air of disciplined elegance.
Claudia gestured to us. "Your turn."
"Adele Ercangaud," I began, followed by Fleda and Alruna. After brief nods, Claudia launched into the mission.
"The job's simple: investigate reports of a monster near Nothhelm Village. Reach the village in two days, observe the creature—do not engage. If it's a High Demon, we'll handle it. Understood?"
I raised a hand. "Claudia, Aureo to Tiel takes two days by foot. How do we reach Nothhelm in time?"
"They've brought their own horses," she said, nodding at the trio. "You three will borrow mine."
"Wait—your horses?" I blinked. Horses were a luxury we'd never dreamed of owning.
"Consider it a gift for earning your Guild stripes."
Holy hell. I bit back a grin. This changed everything.
"Questions? No? Good. Gather your gear and meet at the Guild's courtyard in thirty minutes. Dismissed!"
As the others filed out, Claudia pulled us aside. "Adele, follow me. Let's get you equipped."
***
"Well? My babies, raised with utmost care. Magnificent, aren't they?" Claudia gestured proudly to the trio of horses. "From left to right: Helmo, Otto, and Sten."
I'd admired these creatures countless times during my stay at her mansion. Helmo's chestnut coat gleamed like autumn leaves, Otto's midnight-black mane rippled like liquid shadow, and Sten's gray hide resembled storm clouds. Their muscular builds and alert stance betrayed their warhorse lineage. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined owning such steeds. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of gratitude.
"We... can't thank you enough, Claudia," I said, bowing deeply alongside Fleda and Alruna. "You've given us shelter, purpose, and now this. We're forever in your debt."
Claudia waved a hand, though her lips twitched into a rare smile. "Repay me by not dying on this mission. Succeed, and I'll treat you to drinks."
"Not enough. A dinner with a stein full of ale."
"Hahaha! Sure." Claudia's hearty laugh spread across the garden. A frown then formed on her brow. "Wait—can you three even ride?"
Fleda smirked. "We herded the village chief's horses for years. They let us ride as long as we returned them unharmed."
"And you, Alruna?"
"My father trained me," she replied, stroking Sten's neck. "Horses are like family."
"Good. Now move. You've wasted half an hour already."
"Crap! Fleda, Alruna—go, go!"
I chose Otto, drawn to his regal bearing. Fleda vaulted onto Helmo with practiced ease, while Alruna murmured soothingly to Sten. Mounting Otto's tall frame required a clumsy scramble, but muscle memory soon took over. The hours we'd spent racing through meadows as teens—carefree and laughing—had unknowingly prepared us for this moment.
"We're off! Thank you again, Claudia!" I called.
"Don't make me regret this!" she shouted back.
***
The Guild courtyard buzzed with anticipation. Our new companions sat astride their mounts: Grigore on a shaggy mountain horse, Marcia on a dappled mare, and Kasparian atop a stallion whose feathers matched his own golden-brown plumage.
"Sorry! Are we late?" I panted, reining Otto beside them.
Kasparian's eagle eyes narrowed. "You're precisely on time. Let's move."
Marcia leaned forward, her smile disarming. "No need for formalities, darlings. Call me 'Big Sis,' but don't slack off!"
"Yes, Big Sis Marcia!" I chirped, earning a chuckle from Grigore.
As we rode through Aureo's gates, the weight of the mission settled over us. Otto's steady gait beneath me felt like a promise—of speed, of survival. I glanced at my companions: Fleda's wariness, Alruna's quiet focus, and our seasoned allies, their confidence a silent reassurance.
The road to Tiel stretched ahead, mist curling over its cobblestones. Somewhere beyond it lay Nothhelm—and answers that might tip the scales between ruin and redemption.
***