Chapter 44 - Forty-Two (1/2)

After buying some useless things; like masks, candies, toys and whatnot; for my baby brother we finally went on our way, separating from Ragnur, and out of the main road to a more secluded part of the city.

There were still stones paving the roads, but they were now thinner and shabbier than before, covered in moss and with some cracks here and there as well as a small depression inwards were dirty water flowed freely.

The rune brought us to a crowded tavern, one of the few buildings that weren't stuck between two others, the dark alley beside allowing it to have a stair going up the second floor where an inn board stood in display, yet it had the same name as the building on the first floor, changing only what they were for.

Wacky Rats Tavern/Inn, such a lovely name.

Yet it wasn't as shabby as one may think, it had glass windows, stone and wood structures mixed together in a very rustic way, with some metal hooks, horseshoes and miscellaneous covering the walls, as well as many candles, some even in lamps, giving an eerie illumination with enough shadows so the corners could hold ”private” talks.

Well, as for tonight, the place was packed, full of humans and dwarfs competing in a drinking contest, music playing somewhere, high enough to be barely audible over the chitchat.

There were a lot of hooded figures as well, and as the rune stopped shimmering I tried to find someone familiar around, but with so many people, sounds and smells, it was quite difficult.

”May I help you?”

Once I turn to see who was talking I receive the stink of wet dog and slums right at my face, and not for less since the one who asked was a bipedal rat, or wererat for that matter, wearing an apron and holding some mugs and dirty plates.

I don't know how to feel about a rat serving me, but I shrugged the thought off.

”I would like a table for two please.”

”We don't have more tables available, can it be the counter?”

”Sure.”

He spoke in a funny way with his tongue passing behind his big front teeth. I follow him until we reached a stool in front of the caretaker, who was occupied selling out rooms, making drinks and taking requests.

It takes a while for him to reach us, and even more so that our meals were in front of us; a good roasted piece of pork beef, seasoned with wine overnight, salt, pepper, ginger and cloves, ending in a succulent dripping red meat that the knife had no difficulty in cutting through.

Never judge a book by its cover I supposed, that explained now why this place was packed.

My brother couldn't resist good food so without wasting time he digs in, hand and all, making scrubs fall on the counter and grease fall in his fingers and chin, earning him a slap in the back of the head.

Looking betrayed, he rubbed the back of his head, looking at me:

”I thought I taught you better than that.” I said, pointing out at the utensils. ”Knife. Fork. The mugs go up, not your face down.”

Grimacing for the millennium time that I had to repeat that to him, he lookes at the table beside us were a group of dwarfs and humans; drunk, from the smell and look of it; were singing together with the music, dropping ale everywhere and eating with their hands, the leftover getting stuck on their bears and clothes.

”Do you want to make as your older brother taught you or how those drunken strangers do?”

I thought the choice was obvious… Until I see my brother extending his hand to the plate, opening his mouth sideways, making me narrow my eyes at him as he let a short nervous giggle, taking the fork in a clumsy way.

Sigh, if I knew that one day his dog days would bring so much trouble to his humanoid appearance I would have taught him beforehand.

Though it wouldn't make much of a difference with him, as he does how he wants anyway. Not gonna blame him though, as I do the same.

I'm just older them him, and stronger too, and especially smarter, so I get to tell him what to do.

Cough cough.

After some ale; we couldn't get drunk, it ended up burned inside us, so might as well fit in; I finally got the bartender attention again, but this time with a different type of request.

”Hey fella, have you seen a half-elf around here?”

”Well, we see a lot of people in these parts I tell ya!” After some copper coins and a smile on his face I started describing Leonel and he started talking. Humf, greedy humans.

”Yeah, yeah, actually we have one in our inn, the fourth door on the left side, can't miss it!”

I was getting tired of having to fit in for so long, hiding my tail, ears and the color of my eyes, the waste of MP weighing more in my conscious than my body, so after finishing the meal and having one more look over the tavern I go up the inner stairs hiding by the side to the second floor, Hunthor right beside me, enchanted by everything in this crowded big city.

The upper part of the building was made mostly of wood, the stairs squeaking under my weight, leading to a corridor with doors on both sides, ending with another door going to the outside and the dark alley that we saw earlier.

I counted the doors, and just like that was already in front of the right one, my hands strangely sweaty when I was about to nock.

13 years… I wonder how much has changed, hell, he wasn't that brat anymore… Would he still be after the freedom as he said so? Will he still remember me? And if yes how so? As the creature who saved him? As a pawn to be used who was in debt to him?

As a friend?

I knocked. Twice, my mouth suddenly dries from the expectation of… what?

The wooden door open slowly… and a girl appears in front of me. She had only her purple eyes and face showing, as her head and body were cover as a nun, the white vest very clean in contrast to the environment around her.

She had armor over her clothing, and just a little part of her blond-white hair peeks off over her hood.

”Brother.”

At Hunthor's call I turn to see that, at the end of the corridor, coming from the outside and outlined by the moonlight, was a man wearing full armor from head to toe, his broad shoulders even more prominent because of the silver plate over then, sharp eyes pecking from the opening of the helmet.

”What is it?” The woman said in an irritated and dismissive tone, gaining my immediate dislike.

”Sorry lady, we are looking for a half-elf, but it seems we went to the wrong door.” We didn't, but might as well be the bartender's fault. Copper coins to waste.

She was about to complain, an attitude very divergent from her attire and doll face, when a strong husky voice came from inside the room, bringing a strange feeling upon my body.

”Let him in.”

She scuffs, but steps aside, my brother and the knight following close as we enter the room, closing the door behind us.

And there he was, comfy in a chair under the window, the moon rays bringing his features to light.