Chapter 6 Midwinter #4
All of a sudden, the noble let go of his shoulder and almost fell to the ground, had it not been for Kraghtol to catch him.
“I think you’re pretty handsome, for a peasant.”
A line of drool was running down from the corner of his mouth, and his breath was sour as he tried to lean forward.
“I think we should go somewhere —” his eyes lit up, “— a haystack. Yes! Let’s go to a haystack and have dirty peasant sex!”
“What?! No! You’re drunk!”
There were a lot of things Kraghtol would have liked to do to the noble, but they certainly didn’t involve any haystacks or touching. It took every bit of willpower not to let him fall to the ground here and now. Instead, he inhaled through gritted teeth.
“Valir! We are in public. People can hear you!”
Valir’s face went slack. “Right. People. People are always watching. And judging. You don’t know how good you have it, Krasen from nowhere.”
Kraghtol didn’t comment on that and instead tried to steer the noble back to the main festivities.
“Come on, let’s get you to your friends.”
“No! No friends! They aren’t my… I need to go… home.”
That was the best idea he had heard from Valir so far, although the chances for the noble to arrive there on his own seemed low at best. Kraghtol sighed and looked around at the cold and dirty white covering the streets.
He was a healer, and he knew fairly well what could happen to the drunkard if he let him go on his own.
So, cursing his own good heart, he steered the noble towards the Silver Spires and the luxury homes of the noble families.
With his old strength, he would have just resolved to carry the other man, but the best he could do now was to support him, only stopping occasionally to let him throw up into the gutter.
When they finally reached the clean walls and lavish gardens of the Silver Spires district, he was relieved to pass Valir onto one of the stone-faced private guards, who roamed the district and kept unwanted visitors out.
Still, as he returned to the marketplace, Kraghtol couldn’t help but wonder, with a hint of pity, how much of that had been the alcohol talking. And how much of it had been the real Valir.
It was close to midnight already when he returned, and some lights in the streets had already burned out.
Still, the crowd in the marketplace seemed to be determined to greet the new year in person.
It was going to be the year 370 after the unification, and even though he felt tired, Kraghtol, too, wanted to stay up and celebrate the new year.
“You know, it’s said to bring bad luck to begin the new year alone.”
The voice sounded utterly familiar, but that was just impossible. Kraghtol turned around to the woman leaning casually against the lamppost and couldn’t help but smile.
“Liva!”
A variety of emotions chased across her face before she settled on a big, natural laugh.
“Oh, this is rich. You seem determined to ruin my business at every celebration now, don’t you? It is you, Kragh, right?”
“Yeah, it’s me. How did you know? And why are you here?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know. I was working, you idiot! But since you apparently knew me, and I usually have an excellent memory for men…”
She shrugged, and Kraghtol was impressed. Either she was not telling the whole truth, or she had a truly remarkable memory.
“So, you did take the potion then? Come on, don’t be shy, show me the wares!”
“The… wares?” Kraghtol asked, confused, but Liva just laughed.
“Your new body, your face. I’ve never seen an alchemical potion that could change who you are in action, so forgive my curiosity.”
Kraghtol stepped closer to the light, and Liva scrutinized him thoroughly.
“Hm. I’ve got to say, I’ve never seen a more… average guy. Are you…?” Her gaze went down, and Kraghtol felt blood rushing to his head.
“Yes, average. In all aspects. Now, can we change the topic, please?”
Liva grinned.
“Sure, whatever you want. You’re the client. But what a coincidence to meet you here, of all places.”
“I- I’m not your client! And I could say the same. What are you doing in Winterstone?”
The mischievous sparkle in her eyes reassured him he would not have to pay her for her time, and she shrugged as if that was enough explanation.
“I told you I didn’t plan to die in Caemdir. And I just happened to pass through Winterstone on the solstice day, hoping to make some coins. But so far, I have had no luck. Hey, what about you? Have you… found someone? A cute boyfriend, perhaps?”
Her smirk was infuriating. Somehow, the knowledge of his real identity made it even worse.
“No, of course not! I’m here to study. And you know —” he lowered his voice, “— this isn’t my actual body. Or even my real name. Imagine waking up next to someone one morning only to discover that the effects of the potion have worn off. What do you suppose the other guy would say?”
“How about ‘Good morning, sexy’?”
Kraghtol laughed, but for once, Liva stayed serious.
“Seriously, what is he supposed to say? That he only loved the human Kragh, but not the real Kragh? If that’s the kind of man he is, he wouldn’t be worth a second look, anyway.”
Kraghtol shook his head.
“That’s easy for you to say. But you don’t need to —”
“— hide who I am? Yeah, right, think about that one again, big guy.”
She grinned, and Kraghtol had to give her that. She was a guild-unapproved prostitute. Of course, she had to hide on a daily basis. Before he could come up with an answer, however, Liva went on.
“Anyway, I didn’t come here to argue about your love life. Or lack thereof. If I can’t get a client, celebrating with a friend is just as good a way to start the new year. Come on, let’s find a good place to wait for the new year!”
She took his arm and dragged him towards the center of the market, where a sizeable crowd had gathered with a good view of the brightly illuminated clock tower.
“There’s barely ten minutes left before the new year. Let’s hope for a good one.”
“Yeah, let’s hope…”
It was difficult for Kraghtol to put his thoughts in order with all that had happened today, but right now, he was just glad to have a friend to celebrate with.
So, he got a drink and something to eat and waited for the new year in comfortable silence.
It was going to be the best year of his life; he was sure about that.
After all, his dream was finally coming true.
The clock struck midnight, and the whole marketplace erupted in cheers and shouts, and Liva practically jumped into a friendly hug.
But that wasn’t everything. Kraghtol watched, wide-eyed, as glimmering lights ascended from all around the marketplace, and the now well-known alchemical Activation flames momentarily tinted the entire area blue.
And then, a spectacle unfolded right over his speechless head.
The lights exploded into hundreds, no, thousands of fireflies, as they started whirring and buzzing in every direction, forming shapes and figures in the sky.
Some looked like letters, others like animals or objects.
One moment, a large glowing flower erupted, only to turn into a swarm of butterflies, which then, in turn, formed a flaming bird in the air.
The bird flew in a circle over the marketplace and exploded in a shower of sparks, raining down on the cheering crowd.
Kraghtol was stunned. It was like a dream. He had seen nothing like this before.
“It’s an alchemical light show,” Liva whispered, as if not to break the spell. “I’m surprised you don’t know about it, given your new profession. They have one every year, but only in Winterstone and Ironwatch.”
“I had no idea,” he said truthfully, the light of the alchemical miracles in the sky still reflecting in his eyes, while his hand closed around the tiny vial he wore under his shirt. Miracles he would soon learn to create himself. And at this very moment, he knew he wanted nothing else.