“This sucks,” I moaned into my arms, drunkenness causing me to slip back into my old speech patterns. No one around here every described a situation with the word “suck.”
But my situation was deserving of such a description. Of that I was sure.
“Another one, Sir?” the bartender inquired, knowing better than to pry into the cause of my foul mood. For that I appreciated this world; hardly anyone was ever in your business.
“Of course.”
One thing the Shapeshifter could feel was irritation; it was almost as if the Shapeshifter could only feel sensations and emotions typically classified as negative. But to my advantage, alcohol also seemed to have a somewhat normal effect on my now immortal body.
And thus I had become one of the types of people I once hated the most; an alcoholic. But the only way I could chase off my annoyance was another drink, so I was hardly presented with any other choice.
I even missed Aine’s sarcasm and jokes at my expense for once.
Normally Aine would be making fun of me right now but she had stopped talking to me as soon as I had taken Zess, my former attacker, into my company. But I had been too pleased at accepting a partner that I hadn’t cared so much back then. I hadn’t even bothered inquiring into Zess’s background; sufficing to know that Zess would diligently follow out any of my commands and not caring beyond that. Besides, I had no doubt that Aine would come if I truly required her presence.
Which was all swell until I finally reached the town of Arren only to be isolated once more.
Of course a monster couldn’t enter the town. I shouldn’t have been able to either, but I was an exception because of my form shifting which allowed me to blend in. But Zess possessed no such ability, though he assured me countless times that he would come to my side at my call.
My loneliness wasn’t so terrible to endure; though Aine still ignored me even when I entered the town by myself. I was at least accustomed to being alone. But the second source of my irritation turned out to be far worse than loneliness.
I was recognized.
Not as the famed hero I had strived so hard to become; of course no one world recognize me as him. The form I had shifted to was recognized and called out.
“Hoi, Elas, is that you! Hoi!”
I hadn’t the faintest idea of this particular body’s name, so of course I didn’t react. That particular shout was just another voice in the din that made up the entire town. But my ignore-what-doesn’t-pertain-to-you tactic was ruined when someone behind me tapped my shoulder, forcing me to turn around and face them.
“Elas, it is you! ‘Ere you were ignoring me too, you almost had me fooled for a moment. Where ya been?”
I considered the women’s question while looking her over. From the leather guards she had strapped around her forearms to the thick cloak she donned it was clear she was an adventurer. Her dialect seemed to support that conclusion. But her relevance to my current form baffled me.
She seemed to notice from my expression that something was off.
“I’m Quoin, ‘member? We partnered up bought a month go? And good too for that, almost were had in by mountain scavengers several times.”
I still had no idea what to say, but I decided to run with the idea that I knew her. Perhaps I could glean some information from her, or she’d prove useful for some purpose as of yet not known.
That was where I went wrong.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I was in a daze and didn’t remember you for a second there. But you jogged my memory.”
The newly introduced Quoin beamed as if my recognition of her meant the world to her.
“Knew it, I did, I knew it all along! No one who’s met me ain’t ever forgotten me, so’s what everyone tells me anyway,” Quoin began to ramble once more, smile seeming to grow ever larger. I began to doubt my plan.
Perhaps civilized life wasn’t meant for me anymore, despite my inclination to always seek it out. It was all I had ever experienced so it only felt natural. But perhaps that thinking was outdated.
Two hours later my sentiment was backed up by undeniable evidence.
While masquerading as Quoin’s friend, partner in crime, or whatever she considered me, she latched on to my elbow and dragged me around town. Which in and of itself was hardly a betrayal of my hastily thought up plan. But after she forced me to treat her to dinner I realized with sudden clarity what my former self had failed to realize: she knew nothing of importance.
But for whatever reason she wouldn’t let me out of her sights.
Which brought me back to the tavern.
“Sucks? I reckon you’re drunk, old Elas, or else you’ve only just now lost your mind!” Quoin laughed loudly at her own joke, slapping her thighs with her hands as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
You’re the one who’s drunk, I couldn’t help but think.
While Quoin began to babble at the bartender and I waited on my next mug, I listened in on the other drunkards.
Of course drunkards would have more information than Quoin did.
“I hear the forest’s gone silent,” one man whispered over the top of a mug as if his words were top secret. “You know the old saying that if the May-jackals stop singing then-”
The man was hushed as the door swung open and then slammed shut with a resonating bang.
“Lord Weri-lay, your presence here humbles me. What great occasion brings your magnificence to such a drab tavern?”
The bartender’s unexpected and very blatant flattery startled me, but more so than that Quoin’s sudden silence piqued my curiosity. Peering up from where my head rested on top of my folded arms, I watched as the aforementioned Lord walked up to the counter and took the open seat to my right.
Slowly conversation began to resume in the bar as the high status newcomer’s presence was accepted and then forgotten. Deciding that there was nothing more to the man after all, I focused my attention on my drink once more, taking a deep swig of the strong amber liquid before setting the rough wooden mug down once more.
Just as the alcohol began to kick in and dull my senses, whispered words caught my attention when I realized with a start that they were intended for me.
“…ou can’t escape Shifter. The Day of the Count is nearly upon us. What face will you take when you find yourself prey?”
Flicking my eyes to the right, all I found were several carved silver squares and an empty mug. Then the door banged shut and I was left with more questions than the answers and information I had originally come here to obtain.
Narrowing my eyes at the now vacated seat next to me, I tried to recall more details of the man who had only just sat in it but already my image of him was blurring. Although my instincts told me not to, I decided I needed help.
“Hey Quoin-” I began as I turned to my left. But my words were cut short at the second empty seat I found.
“Who’s Quoin?” the bartender questioned as he retrieved the coins and empty mug to my right. “Your lover?”
“The woman who was just here,” I mumbled, pointing vaguely to my left. His joke was lost on me.
I felt just the tiniest bit flustered.
“Not that it’s in my interests to say,” the bartender spoke to me with a kind, chiding smile. “but I think you’ve had one too many, friend. Does this look like the kind of place friendly to a woman?”
Nodding slowly, I didn’t bother looking around me. I didn’t need to see that there were only men within the shop. At least the mysterious Lord Weri-lay to my right had left some trace of his existence, while the vacated seat to my left lacked even an emptied mug.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
