<
A wolflike grin spread on the first figure's face, a weave made of darkness and pain with no features, no end, and no beginning, a vortex that seemed to absorb light as it scanned the old, hunched man working over a tome that threatened him.
<
The clear provocation was lazily met with a gelid gaze, two pale white orbs filled with stars, swirling galaxies, and the glacial weight of aeons, of ages long past, present only in the memories of a few.
<
The air seemed to vibrate, as gargantuan shadows made themselves known, protectively huddling around the first figure.
<
Javier looked at the shadows and smiled, a cruel, self-satisfied thing.
<
The shadows answered, a vibrant whale song that broke mind and matter alike.
<
Redacted.
The quick rise did not help with his stomach, and Sebastian's garbled voice laboriously asserted itself over the tavern's usual merriment, his precarious position attracting more attention than his words, but the result was still the same.
The whole room was now turned towards him, as the drunk muttered some undertones that sounded very close to self-encouragement to his nearby teammates.
While he was hyping himself up, he realized that his gamble had gotten him the crowd's attention, including the curious and confused gaze of his target.
He basked in the moment before loudly proclaiming his thoughts.
"Yeshh.Yeeeesh that's right, y'all old foolishpmop… foolish nincompooss… ya old fools may believe his words, but I'm not buying it for… foooor a second!”
The first to react was the boy's father, a loud sigh rising from slitted lips, as he slowly brought up a hand to cover his eyes and massage his temples, trying to hide the sight of his son embarrassing himself.
“Sebastian, I swear to god this time I’ll not let you touch a drop of wine for a decade. Get your shitfaced ass down the table and stop disrespecting our guest,” he remarked in a defeated voice.
The situation was not unusual, it seemed, and the older man added with certainty.
“Besides, Owen personally worked the leather; I saw the pelt, Ed saw the pelt, and we know our thrice damned trade. And we see blade wounds that are a clear match for his weapons located in places I would not fucking touch with a ten-foot pool.”
A nod came from his side, and the gruff voice of the butcher rose to stoke a bit more heat into the situation, mirth hidden behind his judgmental expression.
“I mean, I know you would not understand the difference between a mule cock and the tip of a spear, but how could you not trust your dad's experience.”
Said parent gave a surprised look to his friend, who sheepishly shrugged before murmuring back “Eric, your brat is a dumbfuck”.
The old ranger's expression blackened even more, but before he could rebut the claim, the same familiar voice droned on, unrepentant.
Sebastian seemingly had a clear opinion about his senior's words, treating them as farts in the wind.
He directly addressed Omri, the confidence that could come only from the bottom of a bottle, making him boisterous, "Sooo Strange…streneger? Nothing to say in yurrr, your defense? You let others speak for you? " his glassy eyes were getting more unfocused by the minute.
“I have no idea who pissed in his breakfast, but for some reason he is sure that It was me” he inwardly mused, before actually answering his “rival”.
“I don't know what problem you have with me, buddy, but I have nothing to prove to you or anyone else. I literally just came here to stock up on some provisions; the rest has come by chance. By the way, great beer, guys. It just may be too strong for some of the locals”.
A round of chuckles rose, with Edward laughing like the small joke had killed him.
Omri looked at him, confused by the exaggerated reaction.“My god, man, breathe, what is your problem with that prick?”
The prick in question kept digging deeper, his entourage now red-faced, with one of the cannier boys actually getting up to silently reach toward the tavern exit.
"Ooh no no, you, you…you can’t simply pop up out of nowhere, act like you're hot shit, and take ad… adgant… advantage of my gullible pops and his dumb billies friends! You may have charmed them, but I can sheee very well… and I can shee right through you".
Those last words were said with flair, the drunk mimicking a pair of binoculars while swaying on his feet, and were also not particularly well received by the small crowd in the club, who still had all the wits to understand when they were insulted.
And out of all of them, predictably, Edward was taking it the worst; that he didn't like Sebastian was no mystery, and this latest outburst had certainly not improved his opinion of the youngster.
"Get bent and sit the fuck down you self-absorbed brat! Stop embarrassing yourself and your father. He may not have used enough cane while bringing you up, but I’m not soft enough to repeat his mistakes.”
The short tirade was interrupted by a snort, the middle-aged butcher now gesturing at Omri, before he resumed.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“And, not even considering what he brought in: how can you see a guy dressed in unprocessed pelts, covered in weapons, looking like he wrestles with death each day of his life and think: yeah, I really should fuck with him”.
Omri sent a betrayed gaze to the man, who winced and mouthed a sorry with his mouth.
“Oh, come on, I didn’t even look that bad. I’m reasonable, affable, and personable, just like Lady Eliza taught me.”
The small exchange went unnoticed by Sebastian, who kept relentlessly ignoring each new lifeline given to him, while he secretly shuddered at the idea of a fight with either of them.
He may have been a fool, but he was not suicidal yet.
That small, whispering voice of reason was quickly shut, a loud chorus of idiocy, jealousy, and lack of control guiding his actions instead.
"You don't have to take my word for it, as I said, I know how to prove it. If he really is this exalted hunter, he will have no problem beating me in a simple contest, no?” Sebastian said in a now strangely firm voice, truncated with pride.
For the first time in a while, his father interjected, scoffing, "A contest? A contest of what? The wilds are not a game, Sebi. Has not a single one of my lessons stuck with you? And Omri’s surely will have more important things to do than entertaining your bratty demands."
“A contest. I’ll obliterate the guy. And it’s kinda annoying… buut it may be a good opportunity to gauge what they can do. And to be fair, putting that bozo in his place doesn’t sound like a bad deal".
“I really don’t, Eric, but there's no need to get angry. If a little competition is enough to convince your son, I don’t see where the problem is, but let’s up the stakes.”
Turning to the now still youngster, Omri addressed the challenge.
“Ohi, Sebastian, heard that? I’ll accept your claim, but we should make this…contest of yours a bit more interesting, no? If you win, I’ll even gift you some of my bounties. And if I win, well, you’ll have to pay for the stuff I’m buying tomorrow," said Omri, interrupting the older man.
Both father and son stared at the newcomer, the first with worry, a touch of fear, and curiosity, the other with jealousy and… confusion?
Omri didn’t waste time ruminating on the deal and kept speaking, this time addressing the crowd.
"Now, that has been a great night, and the company was even better, but I need to rest and check up on my host. Tomorrow, I’ll be leaving to get back on my hunts. Our challenge will take place in the morning... will you be well by then?" asked the boy, considering his opponent's current condition.
For many, the newly found second wind in Sebastian may have seemed like him getting a hold of himself, but Omri knew it was a swan's last cry before the inevitable crash down.
"What are you implying? I could do it even now, stranger! I’m just happy that I have a chance to show my prowess and your lies to my people! You have not hunted what you claim, not even mentioning the beeeaght…the bleaaargh".
Retching sounds covered Sebastian's last words, as his face went from the ruddy complexion of a drunk to the pale green of someone about to be violently sick.
He jumped down from the table and slipped, hitting his head on one of the now-empty chairs. He then promptly proceeded to empty his stomach on himself, lying passed out in a pool of foul-smelling vomit.
Omri looked at the scene, then at the crowd, now cringing from second-hand embarrassment, and shrugged, "I just wanted to make sure that the challenge would be fair".
He clapped his hands once and turned to his group of old timers, their faces going through a kaleidoscope of emotions as they tried to put together excuses for their young, before Eric, head of the village hunter lodge, and Sebastian's father, gave him a weak smile.
“I’m sorry, lad, Sebi is a handful on his best days, and he can’t help but make a fool of himself once every couple of months. This is too much, tho. Please don’t take offense at what he said: he is just a dumb boy.”
A chuckle, loud and clear, left Omri’s lips. “No offense taken, Eric. The folly of youth knows no bounds, one of my masters used to say, and while his lessons may have stuck more, I understand his doubts, and wanting to protect his people.”
Omri did not, in fact, understand anything of what just happened; each new illogical step taken by the challenging youth went against everything he was taught, but adaptability was the name of the game, and he would not look at a gifted horse's mouth.
His finances were still not looking good, and having an unwilling sponsor would let him be a little more… aggressive in his purchases.
“That said, I really need to go. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. And don’t let a small mishap like that get in the way of a good night. Keep merry, and I’ll see you all tomorrow!”
A chorus of greetings rose from his table of acquaintances, and Eric left to check on his son before sighing and picking him up on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, while the other diners got back to their fun.
The young hunter absentmindedly noted how the background song shifted back into a quicker, more joyful melody, realizing that the whole debacle was punctuated with the liutist's sharp music. The cheeky bastard had given them a soundtrack.
A sharp laugh left his lips at the thought, some gazes following him out of the building.
Once in the open, he took a deep breath, the salty night breeze filling him with mirth, as he cheerfully walked back to Mabel's home.
He found the old lady still up, nursing a large cup of tea that gave off a suspiciously peaty smell.
She wordlessly offered him a similarly shaped chalice before filling it up from a nearby teapot, a mischievous smile on her aged features.
“So, how was your first night out in the village, kiddo?”
He took a bit of time to answer the loaded question, sipping at his drink.
“Whiskey and tea, those ladies go harder than the taverngoers.”
“Well, I had some good company, and the lute-guy was pretty skilled in his craft. However, I think I’ve had something… interesting happen with one of the village hunters.”
Mabel's smile widened, threatening to split her lips.
“Oh, boy. Tell this old lady everything!”.
He gave her a look, and she scoffed, “Come on, nothing ever happens here, I need all the entertainment I can get.”
Omri sighed, acquiescing to her request.
And the night, still young, kept going, bowls of spiked tea washing down their throats as he talked about the idiocy of the situation, while the old lady kept erupting in her witch-like cackles.
He didn’t know when he actually got to bed, a warm smile on his face and embers in his belly, but he went knowing that the future wasn’t looking so rough anymore.
The next morning, Omri woke up still slightly dazed from his unprompted drinking session and found his fellow warrior already up in the kitchen, humming a wistful tune as bacon, eggs, and beans cooked over the stovetops.
Looking at the old lady crushing her morning routine left him even more dazed, a hefty dose of respect rising at the sight. He shook his head, taking place at the table before she could yell at him to do so.
“In a different life, she could have been a good match for the temple sisters.”
His musings were interrupted by a sharp set of knocks, coming from the house entrance.
The humming stopped, and the old lady looked at him, raising her left brow.
He shrugged, but the glare he got back from the gesture, along with the sharp: “ Well, get to it, boy,” was enough for him to scurry over and open the door.
On the other side, the sorry sight of a pale-faced Sebastian welcomed him, with his father Eric looming over him just a step behind, a stormy expression on his dark face.
Surprise warred with mirth, for a moment, before he cheekily addressed the pair. “Welcome, guests, to my host’s home. What brings you here today?”
Some tension left Eric's features, while Sebastian scoffed, earning a clip behind the ear from his father.
He stood straighter and answered the question, “I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday, but you have not cleared my doubts, and my challenge still stands. You won’t be able to sweep it under the rug.”
A heavy, disappointed sigh rose from behind him, while Omri took a good look at his “opponent”.
“To be fair, seeing you so goddam wasted made me think that you forgot about the whole deal, but I guess you are set on doing this. Very well. We can meet at the merchant square by midmorning, and you’ll tell me how we have to compete. Fair?”
He offered his hand, and Sebastian shook it, his grip firm despite the clear unease behind his eyes.
“Fair.”