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sunsetfelid · 1 year ago

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In Their Cups

Collaborative writing with @reforgingailyth

Alcohol is a hell of a drug. It's funny how, depending on the ingredients used, how differently it affects the human body. Beer and ale tend to sit heavy in your stomach, whiskey and vodka heats you to action, sake warms you comfortably, making conversation easy, and mead passes light on the tongue and energizes you. At least, that's what Asahi would say at this time, having found himself in his cups three flagons of forest mead ago. How fortunate they were, he pondered, to pass by an inn that handled their own brewing while on the road, chasing their necromantic quarry on their party's quest for justice.

While the murder of Petros Lorrimor had a profound affect on themself, Jones, and the friends made through mutual loss, as did the sudden loss of their companion, Jade's apprentice, Asahi doesn't feel compelled to dwell on such things; rather, Asahi refuses to. He can accept that his former employer was silenced for his work, and accept the responsibility to bring his silencers to justice. He can accept the bizzare circumstances surrounding the Beast's trial, and assume responsibility for ensuring justice was doled out evenly and without bias. What he can't understand, is the charismatic catfolk disappearing at the time when so much was riding on her.

Asahi tilts one of his empty cups with a single, long finger, their head resting on their other arm. It's more than that, he knows but will never admit. Some women run through your life like a storm, and Zaere had run through his like a hurricane. He doesn't think he had fallen in love, no; nothing that serious. But the blow to his confidence fills any silence he is left in. He sighs. Maybe Serai will get them another drink if they pass her a silver. Maybe its the mead, but their ears feel a little warm.

"Shake it off," he mumbles, flicking his ears to do just that, before rising from his seat. They stumble a little, steadies himself, runs a clawed hand through his hair, and saunters their way to Serai's table.

Serai glances up with a faint half-smile before downing the remainder of her mug and slamming it down on the table with a dull thud. "Copper for your thoughts, friend?" Her pale cheeks were beginning to flush with drink, and the words came with the barest hint of a slur. But it was gone the next second as she continued, "You look like you have something to say."

Asahi stiffens a little, his fur bristling. Is it something on my face?

"It's... Ah..." He flusters himself, and slides the silver piece he pulled out back into a pocket built into the inseam of his robe sleeve before sitting down with an uncharacteristic lack of decorum. He sighs, and as he does, the illusion of a slight human quickly replaces the sight of himself. He attempts to shoot Serai an assured smile.

"We've fought together, but I think it's safe to say we barely know each other." Their voice has a melody to it, the cadence of their speech front-loaded so that the last words tend to come out as a purr. "I think it'd be nice to chat, don't you?"

Serai leans back in her chair, her crooked smile widening into a grin, revealing teeth that looked just a bit too sharp for comfort, lending her a vaguely predatory aspect. The air seemed to hum in tune with her amusement, and a cerulean spark of lightning danced along her fingertips as she rapped them gently on the table. "I'd like that, yes." Her one visible eye, blue as ice, fixes Asahi with a piercing stare. "Why don't we start with you? You already know my small part in this. Hah! Glorious little misadventure so far. But I know nothing of how all of you got yourselves into this mess."

They hum in dry amusement, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in response to the light static in the air. His sharp golden eyes meet her one before shying their gaze away to consider what all he'd like to share.

"It is quite the mess, indeed," he muses, pauses, then gestures to Bullseye, at the window barstools, making ammo. "That man is my closest friend. That much I've said before. The others here," he gestures with a wave to Jade and Ferald, Jade, asleep already, her chicken Ten in hand, also asleep, and Ferald, shyly attempting to regale some regulars with their last adventure, "I met those two a little over a month ago. We shared a common friend in a late Professor Lorimor, and met at his funeral."

A chuckle escapes from Serai, the sound at once musical and savage. "I see. Still green then, as far as companionships go. Glad to see I'm not intruding on a sacred bond-journey or what have you." Her eyes drift away for a moment, growing distant with thought before changing the subject. "Gorum's blade, I've had about as much as I can take of this place. If I never see another fleshy abomination again, it will be too soon."

He snickered and reached for a cup that wasn't there, realized his mistake and laid their hand flat on the table to compensate. "You and I both, with an exception perhaps for our friend Frelsari." He taps a knuckle against the table. "I fear where we go, following these people, only worse horrors will await us."

He shifts a little to face her more fully. The warm torchlight tints her moon-pale skin with the color of flame; it eats the hues as greedily as his own fur was a moment ago, perhaps more. "I am glad to have another warrior with us. Karl, as well-- until very literally the day before we found you, we had been fighting with a.. I mean, without a dedicated healer." A half-lie, but, no one else had brought up their former member, and it seemed for the best to leave it that way. They wouldn't want to upset Jade.

"Your um, your magic, I haven't seen anyone embue magic into their weapon in such a way before. Where did you learn such a technique?"

A flicker of unease darts across Serai's face before she was able to compose herself. She hoped -- no, prayed, to whatever gods would listen -- that Asahi had not noticed. "I, ah.. how to put this.." She sighs and gathers herself. "I had to teach myself. I've run across a few others that practice a similar art, but they were all learned mages. My magic comes from within, and doesn't play nicely with the neat rules and constraints of that kind of spellcraft. However, I was already an accomplished warrior by my people's standards by the time my magic awoke, so I simply put in an effort to blend the two."

Asahi's smile becomes a little wider and a little softer, seeing the tall warrior appear so shy about her magic. "I think that's amazing. I had hired a tutor to help me understand the basics of summoning, but it is largely the same-- my ability to summon is based not on a... scientific understanding of magic, but it is based on my bond with Fuuka. She and I are linked in a way I can't explain to more traditional magic users." He fishes out that silver piece and embues it a dim blue light. "Even spells like this, I'm thinking more about my relationship with the light I call than, well, whatever wizards think about. Calculus, maybe?"

"My magic alone doesn't have much significance in battle, but my desire to protect those around me, be it you or Jones, Jade, Ferald, Karl, or Fuuka, allows me to provide support."

She regards him quietly for a moment, head tilted. The air grows still and cold, and then just as suddenly the world springs back into warmth and life and Serai relaxes. a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Beautiful. Truly. Here, I see our drinks have been empty a while. Shall we fix that?"

"That would be lovely," he purrs, emphasis on every word, delight seeping into each syllable like honey despite himself. They offer her the silver piece, still glowing a dim blue, its light flickering madly as a candle exposed to the gentlest of breezes.

With a flourish, Serai plucks the coin from Asahi's delicate hand, sending the disc of silver metal dancing between her fingers. She rises to her feet and moves toward the bar. "Two flagons of mead, my good ser!" Her voice rings over the crowd like the toll of a tower bell, clear and resonant. "Of Ulfen make if you have it. I find myself missing home."

The bartender gives a nod, takes two flagons from beneath the bar, and with a degree of grace unique to those who have worked in hospitality for an extended period of time, fills both cups with mead from a keg labelled "U." She puts down the cups before Serai and opens a palm expectantly.

Serai casually flips the coin into the bartender's waiting hand before reaching into her pouch and producing one more. "That should cover it, and one for the trouble." With a playful wink, she scoops up both cups and dances through the crowd back to her table. Setting one of the flagons down in front of Asahi, she slides smoothly around to the other side before abandoning grace with a toothy grin and drops into her chair.

"My greatest thanks," Asahi demures as she does. He lifts his flagon and takes a quick swig. He hums pleasantly. "This is rather thick compared to the last round I had," he states, his tone that of a casual matter-of-fact.

"Courtesy of my homeland. The honey is diluted less than the common brews in other lands so as it enhance the flavor and the warming properties. Keeps us warm even during the coldest winters." As she speaks, a ghost of a chill swirls around the table, but with a friendly heat barely perceptible at it's heart.

Asahi shivers, shifting closer reactively. "Perhaps I should drink more, it seems the autumn chill has come in through the window." He takes another gulp of their drink and sneaks a glance up at Serai.

She smiles coyly, lips parting mischievously. "Oh so it would seem. But careful now, you wouldn't want to shock yourself. I don't always have the best control over my magic." As if to prove her point, a stray spark leaps from a buckle on her cloak, delivering a small jolt to Asahi's nose.

Immediately, the kitsune's face turns an unrecognizably deep shade of red. He scoots back a small amount, a quick and anxious apology leaving his lips before they drown it in mead. Perhaps it's the alcohol, but they notice parts of their illusion fading and become even more anxious, their tail swinging at a furious pace, one ear flicking nervously, now in plain view.

Seeing Asahi's reaction, Serai laughs. Maybe a little too loud at first, but she catches herself and in a calmer tone offers reassurance. "Ho there, friend. No need to be so nervous, no harm done. I was merely teasing you." With that, she gently prods Asahi in the ribs with her elbow. "Though from the look of things, perhaps it might be time for you to turn in for the evening. Would hate to see you suffering the consequences of too much ambrosia come morning."

He relaxes with a deep breath, and nods. He looks up at her again and flashes her an appreciative smile.

"I think you may be right. Thank you, for the company. I.. had fun," he trails off, then clears his head and throat in one go. "Good night, Serai. I fear I will be a bit difficult in the morning, so please be gentle with me then."

With some difficulty, she manages to suppress a bark of laughter before replying. "You can bet on it. I've been there more times than I can count. Sleep well, and may the morning find you well. Err. Well, as well as can be at least."

They give one more drunken, sleepy nod, and take a stumbling step towards the stairs, before their body reminds him that it is currently processing 8 flagons of mead. He makes it to the stairwell, sits for a moment against the railing, before meticulously dragging himself upstairs and hopefully into the bed he paid for, and not someone else's.

Smiling after him, Serai takes a moment to consider the haphazard collection of individuals she's fallen in with. They seemed good sorts. Maybe people she could eventually learn to trust. Just maybe. I should probably take my own advice, she muses. In a land as shadowed as this, who knew what kind of fresh hell awaited them in the morning? Best to meet it at her best. With that, she casually makes her way to her room and retires for the night, carried into slumber by the warmth of honeyed drink and bittersweet memory.

#pathfinder #short story #fluff #collaborative writing

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