Clyde rubbed his face as rapid pounding on his door woke him from his slumber. His chambers were still dark, heavy burgundy curtains draped across the window kept the sunlight at bay. From the depths of his muddled mind, he recalled that today was his day off. Or at least he was reasonably certain it was. It would not be the first time if he were wrong.
He swung his legs out of bed, taking the sheets with him. He grasped for the cowled robe on the nightstand while trying to recount his memories to see if he could latch onto a particular day of the week. A claw dug into his waist before he could get up, still lost in thought, he sighed and resigned himself to answering the door. A fluffy tail wrapped around the retreating sheets and firmly pulled them up again with an indignant flip.
Clyde grabbed his clergy garb and turned to see a pair of golden eyes faintly glowing in the darkness. They moved towards him slowly as the claw dug deeper into his flesh. I had an evening shift yesterday, the cleric thought to himself, all signs pointed to today indeed being his day off. And yet, the knocking persisted, growing in urgency by the second.
“Sorry Evi, I’ll see who it is,” Clyde tilted his head to the side.
A yawn revealed two incisors slowly growing in length, the fangs sunk into Clyde’s shoulder, just behind his collar bone. The sharp pinch of the puncture was followed by a faint chill. As both claw and fang retracted from his flesh, the chill was replaced by a dull pain.
The cleric rolled his broad shoulder back a few times, his vision washed over with a green tint as they adjusted to the dark. He made out Evienne’s silhouette under the sheets and as his vision continued to brighten, he noticed the deep blush in her cheeks.
Evienne lied down and arched her back slightly, her eyes intently locked on Clyde’s. She grinned and licked her lips, tail swishing under the covers.
The urgent knocking turned to pounding and Clyde shook his head, “It seems important, I’m going to go see who it is.”
The fox spirit swiftly turned away and ripped the covers from around Clyde’s shoulder with her hand. She threw it up and covered her lithe body with a twirl of her tail. Faced with the biting cold, Clyde could not protest the moment so he quickly dressed and went to see who had business with him on his day of rest that God themself approved.
He barely unlocked his door before a large hand pried it open and pulled him out into the brisk afternoon air. Clyde regretted not putting on underwear beneath his cleric’s robe as his scrotum tried to glue itself to his crotch.
“You’re needed at the house of healing,” the soldier barked. “Come now.”
“Give me a moment to get my things.” Clyde attempted to head back inside for more clothes but a firm hand on his shoulder propelled him out into the street where a carriage was waiting. The cleric was afforded no such luxury as he was whisked away with his cheeks flapping in the wind.
Sain looked up from his bowl as someone sat down across from him. Seeing that it wasn’t a member of his troop, he lost interest and returned to shoveling food into his mouth.
“You seem to be enjoying that,” the stranger said. “Mind if I ask what you ordered?”
“Beef noodles, large.”
“Thanks mate,” The stranger placed his order and was happily eating moments later. “Hey I recognize that uniform, you were one of the soldiers in the showcase today.”
“Mhm.”
“What did you think of the under armor from Lancier?”
Sain’s interest piqued up and he set his soup spoon down. He took a closer look at the man sitting across from him. His tan skin and bushy eyebrows reminded him of the fishermen he had met in Bosco as a child. “It did the job, why do you ask?”
“Is that all? ‘It did the job’?” The man laughed. “I put years of my life into that vest.”
The boy pushed his bowl aside, “You made it?”
“Oh? Suddenly you’re interested?”
“Did you make it?”
“I was partly responsible for its creation.”
“Do you know how the two enchants were merged?”
Now it was the other man’s turn to set his spoon down. “You were able to see that?”
“I felt it. When I was stabbed earlier today.”
“You have an interest in weaving?”
Sain shrugged, “Just curious about how the gear I showcase is made.”
“Well, how long you got?” The stranger grinned.
“As long as you want to talk,” Sain called for a waitress and ordered them both another bowl. “This one’s on me.”
“Much obliged,” The man reached across the table. “Name’s Lanza.”
“Sain,” The boy shook Lanza’s hand.
“I can’t tell you everything, trade secrets and all, but I can walk you through the general process.”
“Good enough for me.”
Lanza nodded and dived into his explanation. Four hours and as many bowls later between the two of them, Lanza noticed the sun setting and he realized that he would have to conclude the chat he had been enjoying.
“Listen, I have to get going.” Lanza whipped out a white card from his pocket. “Here’s my business card, if you’re ever in Seneca, stop by Lancier’s office. I’d be happy to show you some things you probably won’t see anywhere else.”
“You bet,” Sain graciously accepted the card and shook Lanza’s hand once more with a wide smile.
With a heavy sigh, the duke closed the book of memories in his mind. Perhaps he had been too hard on the boy growing up. What’s done is done, the old man simply hoped that his efforts would be of some use to his son one day.
“Where is Fio?”
Sophia closed her eyes once more. She let her mind fade into the background as she slipped into her little sister’s consciousness.
Fiona braced herself for impact as a large man wearing nothing but a courtesan’s hat fell on top of her. She turned her head to avoid the rancid smell of alcohol on his breath as he tried to smother her with a kiss.
“She’s working.”
“I would like to see her one last time,” The Duke reached for Sophia’s hand.
“She’s on a very delicate assignment, we shouldn’t interrupt.”
“I’m dying.”
“Please stop saying that sir. Fio will be back next month, she would be devastated if you depart before then.”
“She’s strong,” The Duke shook his head. “Stronger than you think.”
“She’s still her father’s little girl on the inside. Fiona would miss you terribly sir.”
“I’m dying today. This is my choice.” He reached for the glass beside him with a shaky arm.
Sophia quickly grabbed the glass for him but he slapped it away, causing the water to spill on her uniform.
“Look at this,” The Duke snarled. “You know I can’t even grab my own glass of water, where’s the dignity in living like this?”
“We have more than enough servants to assist you sir.”
“I don’t want assistance goddammit! I just want to live like a functional human.”
“We have many functions as humans, movement is merely one of them.”
“What kind of trouble has my daughter gotten into?”
“She’s not in trouble sir,” Sophia gave her father a reassuring smile. “She’s just busy with work.”
“You two were always up to something or other,” a crackly laugh escaped the old man’s parched throat. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re stalling for her right now.
Fiona giggled as the drunken man on top of her slobbered kisses on her neck. She felt him reach under her skirt and quickly slipped out of his grasp. Her skin momentarily became slick as oil and coupled with the man’s heavy inebriation, his helpless fumbling was unable to pin her down.
‘Father is being very insistent, I can’t stall him much longer.’
‘Just thirty more seconds.’
The young woman reached for the hairpin on her head and quickly put it between her lips. She applied a thin coating of the intoxication compound hidden within the pin and drew in a deep breath.
‘I can do ten at best.’
Fiona dove in and planted her lips firmly on the man’s rancid mouth. She held back a gag as she tasted the sour breath exuding past his yellowed teeth. With renewed vigor, the man grabbed at her backside once more. His hand slipped off her leg and she knelt on his wrist, sinking it deep into the soft sheets. For a brief moment, she wondered if the prostitutes’ own beds were as comfortable as the one in this room.
“Quit teasing girl,” The man’s courtesan hat fell off the bed and tumbled on the floor, his words coming out more and more slurred.
“I just need a hit of black fairy first,” Fiona pulled out a small vial from within her very low cut top, directing the man’s gaze to her chest. “Shit! I’m out! Do you have any?”
“What the fuck is black fairy?” The man was finding it hard to speak normally. “Some kind of new drug you kids are doing now?”
“It’s the best for sex,” Fiona grinned. “You haven’t tried it yet?”
“Maybe I know it by a different name, what’s it look like?”
“It’s pixie dust mixed with this really smelly black oil.”
‘I’m connecting him now.’
“Smelly? What does it smell like?” The man’s eyes rolled around slowly, he tried to free his arm from under Fiona’s knee but a couple of fruitless attempts later, he forgot about his intent.
The duke looked down at the middle aged man locked in place between his daughter’s thighs. He couldn’t help but feel like he’s seen the man before, something about the bushy eyebrows illuminated the faintest of memories. After several moments of not being able to match the feeling to a particular name nor face, the duke chalked it up to the smug look of superiority on the man’s face being a reflection of every other smug courtesan he’s had to deal with during his decades of imperial service.
“Just awful,” Fiona scrunched her nose. “Makes me want to gag when I remember it.”
“Come here and I’ll give you something to gag on,” The man grabbed the duke’s wrist and tried to pull him down. Unsurprisingly, he held firm like steel.
‘Dad I’m working.’
Fiona fell over and laughed as she landed on the man’s comfortably flabby chest. She wondered what men found enjoyable about being slapped by sacks of fat. The experience was decidedly unpleasant for her.
“Hold on, hold on,” Fiona gasped through her laughs. “Don’t take this the wrong way mister, but you kind of smell just like it. Are you holding out on me? I can pay for it, you know, with some extras.”
‘Well, it starts with replacing this tub of lard with a beautiful, voluptuous, woman who-’
‘Dad!’
The courtesan felt a streak of sobriety pierce through his fog, “Well, ain’t nobody taking what I smell like as a drug. So either take whatever you have and come suck my dick, or shut up and come suck my dick.”
“Jeeze mister,” Fiona pouted, doing her best to force tears just so she could try her best to hold them back. “Don’t get all touchy, just you reminded me a bit of it, that’s all. Like I said, no offense, and no judgment sir. Like, I get it, some people have medical conditions. My dad had real bad foot fungus, it happens you know.”
She looked down at her lap for a moment, letting her previously cheerful smile fall off her face. Fiona sniffled once, reached down and grabbed hold of the man’s genitals. Despite the duke’s attempt to crush the man’s testicles, his daughter began to fondle them gently.
“Hey now,” The courtesan grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. “Sorry, I’m just drunk, I didn’t mean to snap.”
“It’s okay,” Fiona shook her head and leaned down, letting a tear fall onto the man’s pelvis.
“Ah come on, don’t cry, it’s not as good if you don’t have fun.” He tried to sit up but quickly lost his balance and fell into Fiona. She braced herself as his hefty mass tried to topple them both off the bed.
“I’m not crying, sorry, I just had something in my eye.” Fiona’s shoulders shook slightly as she choked back a sob. “You wanted a blow job right?”
“It’s fine,” He shook his head. “Guards!” He shouted. A couple of seconds later, a fully armored soldier rushed in, his sword at the ready. “Put the sword away, it’s fine! It’s fine!”
The courtesan swayed back and forth as he gestured wildly at his bodyguard. Fiona yelped and let the two of them fall off the bed, the soldier quickly rushed in to help them up.
“You fucking kids and your crazy ways to get high,” The man grabbed at his bodyguard for support. “Take us to the farm!” He pointed in a seemingly random direction. “Let’s get this girl some drugs!"
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