A Much Needed Drink

"This place is going to be the death of me!"

I slam down a wooden mug. The counter rumbles from the impact and causes my empty bowl of stew to shift slightly.

"I just wanted to die in peace on a quiet little farm somewhere, but no! The King himself had to go and give me a hard time!"

The flavour of bitter ale spreads through my mouth as I put back another helping. The sting helps to wash down the beef and vegetables of the meal I had enjoyed multiple servings of. Part of me wants to head back to the unlimited pot by the hearth and continue eating, but the alcohol has started to kick in. I doubt I could walk there without falling flat on my face.

"Demons, I tell you! Demons! I've barely battled a rat, yet they expect me to fight demons! Isn't that unfair!?"

"Y-Yeah…"

Most of the people in this rowdy tavern aren't likely to hear my moaning. Many are busy eating, observing the waitresses, or are simply too drunk to care. Unfortunately for one poor soul, she has no choice but to listen to me ramble from behind the bar.

"If it wasn't bad enough, they told me that a bloody Demon Lord could be running amok! A DEMON LORD!"

"That sounds pretty bad…"

"That's what I'm saying! They want me to just waltz up and kill a Demon Lord like I'm butchering a sheep!"

Some of the other guests look over for a moment, but all quickly start ignoring me. I can even hear some chuckling at a nearby table. They can laugh all they want, but I know the truth.

"Can you be a dear and get me another?"

"S-Sir, that's already your third cup!"

"I can handle so much more than this! There's even a room upstairs waiting for me, so get me another!"

"O-Okay!"

The young waitress darts off to bring another cup. With nobody left to talk to, my lead lowers to the counter. The rough wooden surface of the counter manages to keep me awake as everything seems to move slowly in my eyes. I can't even remember the last time that I drank this much.

BANG

The rustic tavern doors swing open, causing a few to pause. For most, this noise just disappears into the background of the already mindnumbingly loud environment. The case is the same for me, but I cannot ignore the visitor.

"Lavender…"

Whoever it is, she is pulling on my senses. I should not be able to get such a distinct taste between the sweaty drunks and boiling stew. Yet somehow it comes out perfectly clear. It's a pleasant feeling, like the sweet tea that the old lady next door used to make on occasion while she was still around. My weary muscles seem to relax just in the presence of this individual.

"Who let this kid in here?"

"Have you ever seen her before?"

"She must be lost…"

Whispering comes from each and every corner of the establishment. Who can blame them? The girl walking so confidently down the aisle doesn't look older than a child still learning to sew. That isn't the most unusual part either. Her clothes are well maintained, pale brown fabric without a single patch or stain. Atop her dress is a pale violet blouse reminiscent of the refreshing aroma that seems to come from her very existence. Beautifully pale hair that almost doesn't feel real runs down her back, flowing like a delicate stream beneath a beige hat. Somebody this prim and proper does not visit a stinky bar like this.

The small girl looks out of place as she passes by adventurers one to two heads taller than herself. She pays none of the looks any mind as she takes a seat at a recently emptied table. It isn't a long wait before a waitress awkwardly shuffles over to the table.

"Um…can we help you with anything, Miss?"

"Bring me your best wine. A whole bottle."

"PFFFT!"

I spit out the ale from my freshly refilled mug. Her voice sounds exactly the part, but the words out of her dainty mouth could not have been so inappropriate. Those round eyes shouldn't be paired with something so mature, and the waitress seems to agree.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"I said, wine. I'm sure you have something? Burgundy? Bordeaux? I'll even accept Gascony if that's all you have."

This is the quietest that the tavern has been since I arrived. Nobody can comprehend how these words are coming from this young girl's mouth. This feeling has not gone unnoticed by the visitor, who puffs up in annoyance.

"You all got a problem!? Can't a traveler just enjoy a drink in peace!?"

Her eyes are now glaring daggers at the waitress as she props her elbow onto the table, chin resting within her palm. It's almost comical how little she had to lower her head in order to reach that position.

"S-Sorry! But, our wine is quite expensive…"

"Is this enough?"

SLAM

A small hand places several coins on the table. From the initial look of it, there doesn't appear to be more than a couple of them, not usually enough for a big purchase. However, I immediately fall out from my chair when the light reaches the coins.

"P-Platinum!?"

I'm not the only one surprised, everybody has their eyes popping out to see the denomination of currency above the gold. I've seen a few gold coins in my time, albeit rarely, but this is something entirely fantastical. Rumours of such a valuable item occasionally circled through town, just rumours. Nobody I know has ever even seen such a thing, much less seven or eight like I'm seeing here.

"I-I will be right back!"

The waitress takes only one of the coins and rushes into the back. At this point, she isn't going to be asking any more questions.

"Who is this person…"

I continue drinking through my ale, that one question on my mind. When I find my cup empty again, I wave over the waitress for another.

This girl is no amateur. The way she put those coins on the table, that isn't somebody who has only been to a dinky inn for the first time. A perfect turn of the wrist, an intense slam, the sideways glance to the waitress, it was all performed with experience. Starting with the strongest drink in the house, this girl is some kind of monster.

"Here is your drink!"

The waitress returns, now almost jogging, with a bottle of vintage wine pressed close to her chest. She very carefully places the bottle before the visitor, along with one glass cup and a pouch likely containing change.

"P-Please enjoy!"

"You have my thanks."

With pleasantries out the way, the girl pops off the cork and takes in the smell of fermented grapes. After a satisfied nod, she pours herself a glass and trickles the beverage between her lips. No, it started as a trickle. Now she is simply sending the whole glass of dark liquid straight down.

"Paaah! That's the good stuff!"

She still looks like a refined lady, but her actions are long past that. I can't even be mad at her blatant flaunting of wealth. Who can be mad at such a look of pleasure as she puts back another glass? I can almost see the field of flowers in her mind as she thoroughly enjoys her drink.

"Ahh, who needs wine!? Ale is more than enough!"

Or so I try to convince myself by gulping down another full cup. The world really is becoming hazy now, along with my rational thought. I know that I shouldn't, but I look back at the small girl and her visible catharsis. I know that I shouldn't, but I get to my unsteady feet with mug in hand.

I'm definitely drunk as I march towards the nearly empty bench. Part of my brain probably knows that I'm doing something stupid, but that part is definitely buried beneath a dense fog. The corners of tables and chairs bang against me as I stumble through the aisle towards the girl and her wine.

"Hey, you."

I slam my mug against the table, right at the end where the girl sits. She returns from her world of bliss and stares up at me with obvious killing intent in those deep eyes.

"Huh? You need something?"

"Yeah, have a bone to pick with you."

She doesn't even try to hide her resentment, nor do I. The smell of lavender is overwhelming my senses, a fragrance which is now slowly smoldering into something less than pleasant. Unfortunately, I am in no state to read this signal.

The tavern has also started making a fuss. The girl already stood out enough as is, but now conflict seems to be brewing with her at the centre. There have been a couple of drunken bouts throughout the night, but none seem as unusual or terrifying as the one that I'm causing.

"So you do, huh?"

The girl slams down her glass before rising to her feet. She doesn't drop to the ground as one might expect. Instead, she stands on the bench so as to nearly get eye level with me. Her voice is still calm, as is mine.

"Why don't you tell me about it before I make you wish you were never born?"

"Oh, I will."

Every sane part of my body is chastising my stupidity, but I cannot be stopped now. Those voices of reason were cast out around the second refill of ale. The only thing on my mind is this girl and the drink on the table.

I look slightly downwards, staring straight into those dark eyes.

"You think you can just keep such a nice drink all to yourself?"