The Parlor lights of the outside hallway bled into my irises with an intrigued fervor. Slowly, as my eyes adjusted, the lights became less intense, giving way to the sunlight wafting through the bare windows at both ends of the hall. Doors leading towards the stairwell downwards were of the same make as my own, their age apparent in their calloused design. From downstairs, I could hear my Father fluttering through what I ascertained were the pages of a book.
I couldn't bring myself to speak to him, but I would have to if I was going to leave. So as I traced the stairs and the guardrails conjoined to the walls surrounding them, I found myself in the living space for the first time since we moved here., anguishing against the inevitability.
In the far corner of the downstairs living area, settled comfortably on a felt sewing chair, Father aimlessly meandered through a large hardback book, both his eyes and face marred with an indistinguishable sense of loss.
Don't worry Father. You don't have to suffer anymore.
He noticed me before I could speak, his eyes widening as he quickly stood from where he was previously seated, the bare sunlight cast through the adjacent windows illuminating his back and sides.
"Y-Yovin? You're up? How.. How are you feeling?" He came closer, a soft smile forming on his lips. Going along with his expectations, I returned a similar expression.
"I feel good, Father. Thanks for the food. Though, I was hoping to go for a walk, if that's okay?" Trying my best to imbue my words with a positive sincerity, I straightened my posture and flattened my hair.
"Of course, son. Some sun would be good, I think." He posited, reaching for a cardigan resting on a nearby coatrack.
"Take this though. It's a little chilly outside." The article was warm and heavy-looking, but for my purposes, I wouldn't need to worry about it's size for too long. Before I could take it from him, Father grabbed my arm and pulled me into an embrace, my face closeted within his wide chest.
"I'm proud of you, Yovi. And I know your Mother would be too." His voice quaked with emotion as he spoke, filled with an exuberance I hadn't thought possible. My heart broke under the false pretense, but I continued to maintain a level of calm as the threat of tears began to emerge behind my eyes.
"Th-thanks, Father." was all I could offer in exchange. Letting me go, his cheeks slightly flushed, he returned to his seat bordering the opposite wall of the Hearth from us.
"Have fun." He raised his hand in farewell, watching me with a relaxed expression as I slipped on a pair of loafers and brought the front door open.
Closing it behind me, I turned around to fully observe my surroundings. Cordoned within a residential area, our home was similar to the many others we neighbored, down to the same peat-colored shingled rooves and stone masonry walls. Gardens of affluent collection adorned some, while others had trees and growths of a platitude of sizes and scopes.
The street conjoining them went left and right until ending abruptly at an eastern intersection from where I stood, as groups of busied interlopers walked and talked amongst themselves. All of them Arlean, denoted by their obsidian black horns that differentiated themselves by texture and all sorts of scale.
Walking towards the intersection that drew my attention, I began thinking of ways I could go about completing my task. I hadn't bothered to memorize the layout of the Town, so I would need to get creative with what I saw. The Idea of pain didn't scare me. Rather, the onset of failure I consumed myself with became so unwieldly that any particular way of going about things would suffice.
The sun was bright, and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but the chill of the air bit my exposed hands and face. A pair of gloves would've been nice, but I didn't plan on sticking to the cold for much longer. Walking aimlessly forward, my mind took notice of the serenity of the outside. Birds singing from an unknown yet immediate point, the soft chatter of passerby. Even the swaying of trees and greenery around me calmed my frayed nerves.
It was a beautiful place to be. I was grateful I could experience it before I went.
The pleating of my feet on tilled earth gave way to a monotonous dance, every step I took seeming more and more natural. The unease I felt from exposure gave way to a sort of trance as I merely existed without quarry for the first time in what felt like centuries.
As I continued, the cottages gave way to towering villas at least a few stories tall, the rolling hills filled with unquenchable forest behind them accentuating the vast amounts of color that existed in this space. A kaleidoscope of sounds and sights overcame me as I reached the Market square, the center of activity from what I assumed based on the troves of people idling through it.
Commotion overcame my thoughts as I peered into conversations that had nothing to do with me, yet remained intriguing all the same.
"2 for 4 Gon. That's as low as I'll go, friend."
"...and wouldn't you believe it, he turned red as a beet when I asked!"
"Don't touch those, Sofia. They worked hard to maintain them."
"Wow, they're so pretty. How much for the blue one?"
A cacophony of lives being lived, submerged in peace. The rush of footsteps and the sound of voices intermingling with an equally chaotic exchange of banging and wheels turning. Carts being drawn to and fro, their drivers reigning the flock that pulled them with annoyed hands. Stockpiles of goods being transferred from one party to the next as mechanically as one would shake someone's hand.
Beyond the turmoil of tailored chaos, one particular building peaked my interest. A slovenly crafted building seeped with age and history, the bricks that formed it's structure withering with an antiquated charm. Groups of people came and went through it's open-drawn doors, the sign above them denoting the structure's purpose;
Barrels and Taints
Open From Dawn Til' Dusk
Drinks Start at 1 Gon
It was a Tavern. No wonder the commotion coming from within seemed so lively, even with the sun perched atop the horizon as it was, denoting a common midday afternoon.
Maybe someone there could help me. The chances of getting a drink too strong, or a concoction sparked with unnatural ingredients would be high. Regardless, a bit of liquid courage would make the ensuing task much easier to participate in. I didn't have a single iota of money to my name, but I would make do, somehow.
I needed to broach every instantiable aspect of common courtesy If I was to get what I wanted. I didn't need to worry about the consequences, after all.
Still, I was a bit nervous.
Looking myself over, my bland cardigan draped over the plaid course pants I haphazardly wore, I realized I could strike others as a particularly innocent schoolboy. In the essence of a sharper look, I unbuckled the cardigan at it's vertical seam, putting my bandages at full display. It would draw attention and, more importantly, give those that saw me a reason to pry.
Swallowing the unease that pooled in my throat, I walked behind a party that went towards the same direction as I was. A group of men taller than my father by a head, all wearing a similar garb that brought to mind a professional importance. Well-groomed would be a good way to put how they struck me.
As I followed, I couldn't help but overhear a bit of their conversation.
"And you're sure he'll be here?"
"Doubly so. My contact should be inside to confirm."
"Then good luck. And good riddance."
"Amen to that, brother."
Their tones were strict and firm, without even a hint of jest. But what surprised me more was that none of them were Arlean. Liveries weren't particularly welcome in Lativa, however it wasn't against any sort of law. I wonder what they were doing here.
No. I shouldn't bother. I had another task in mind. The only one that mattered.
They opened the swinging door ahead of me, the tallest of them holding it open for the three others to walk through. He noticed me, and without even a look to the contrary, motioned for me to go inside as well.
"Thank you." I muttered, to which he tipped the Panama hat he wore in response.
The interior was just as discordant as the outside. The Bar stand, a massive piece of furnishing stretching along the leftward wall, creaked under the weight of arms and elbows of drunken customers. Behind it lay a display of dozens of different types of spirits, their glass containers fragmenting the candlelight from the surrounding area into a multicolored spread around them.
Tables and stools were neatly placed in sectioned locations around the establishment, most of their plush cushions peeling from age. It wasn't even an afterthought for the clientele based on their complete reticence to the fact. Their faces were consumed by drink, flush and happy as they idly passed the time through conversation.
A soft medley played on a stage set at the back of the procession, a quartet of musicians calmly strumming and singing to an invisible beat. The song was intriguing, sad yet hopeful at the same time. Quite an odd choice for a tavern, but I wasn't one to talk. It fit the atmosphere quite well.
The group that came in before me sat themselves at a table in the far back corner of the space, meeting with someone that had presumably saved that spot for them. The man they were conversing with seemed tense, beads of sweat pooling under his hair line, as he spoke in a hushed tone. Quiet enough to be drowned out by the heaps of voices around them.
Not really sure where to go, I saddled closer to the bar, trying and failing to ignore the growing sets of eyes boring into me as I did so. I could be imagining it, but I could've sworn it had gotten quieter as well.
The Barkeep noticed me, rolling his eyes before continuing with his work. His frayed eyebrows and wrinkled face bore a stark air of annoyance, assuming I was another youth trying to pester him for a drink. Granted, I was, but I had no intent to leave without getting what I wanted.
"Excuse me." I said, raising my hand in an attempt to get his attention. A grimly overweight man to my left chuckled slightly before taking a hearty swig of the amber-colored drink he was nursing. A tinge of embarrassment drew heat to my face, but realizing the obviousness of my naive expression, I quickly drew in a breath to cool myself.
Intending to ignore me, the Barkeep steeled his face with obvious internment, forcing his attention to a group that had been pleading for a refill without the currency to supply it.
"I told you layabouts, no money, no alcohol! How hard is that to understand!" I felt as if his words were simultaneously pointed towards me as well. Every passing second diminished my confidence in what I was doing. Surely I've could've gone about this some other way. Taking my life could be accomplished in a multitude of different fashions. Maybe I ought to just leave and hope I find a tall enough bridge or something.
I sighed, deeper and more transparent than I had ever managed, getting up to leave with disappointed slowness. Before I could, however, I noticed the distinctive clink of a filled glass being placed in front of me. I looked up, only to see a different server from the one I had assumed to be the only working host.
"You look like you could use it, kid." The man that came to my rescue was obscenely good-looking, to the point where it reevaluated the disparities between his face and that of a woman's. His golden eyes peered through me just as concretely as it shifted through the faces of those around us who silently objected.
"Thanks." I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze, taking a sip of the dark solution he poured for me. It burned heavily going down, and in an instant I felt a wave of calm flutter over my thoughts and conscious. I could even feel a slight smile form automatically on my lips.
"It's good, huh? It comes from a vineyard in the Garza Alps. Only a select few establishments can obtain it." His remark seemed to please him as he tilted his head upwards in childish pride.
"Why.. Why would you give it to me, then? When I can't pay?"
"You strike me as someone who's been dealt a bad hand. And who says Gon is the only form of payment one can receive?" His eyes sparkled with a barely contained intrigue, his focus solely on me and me alone as he knelt forward with his chin placed on his upturned arms. I sensed that familiar heat return to my face as I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with the beautiful man for long.
"What do you have in mind, sir?"
"Finish your drink first. It's better cold. Then, afterwards, tell me a bit about yourself. I have a daughter about your age, and It fascinates me how different the hue of your eyes are compared to hers." His words seamlessly glided off of his lips as if he were a natural born soliloquist. Every syllable drew me closer and closer.
The drink was cold, and continued to burn as I drank. Swallowing mouthful after mouthful, only to be interjoined by vibrant chuckles coming from the man in front of me as I quickly gulped the savory liquid down. Wiping the remnants from my lips, I gave a hearty sigh, one completely different from the one I made before.
In fact, I had begun to forget what I was even doing here in the first place.
"Good, Good. Now then, child. For your payment." His lively expression dimmed with expectation, and before long, either due to the drink or his friendly demeanor, I began to divulge what had caused me to appear in the tavern on that day.
And what a story it was.