Atzi looked up at the symbol of fire. Her thoughts were without words, pure awe at the power displayed.
Malus ripped her arms from the flames, causing them to dissipate shortly after, leaving nothing more than stray cinders that soon too vanished.
“Our forces are already prepared to attack. The war shall not be in our land, but their own. Stay here. Rest. Enjoy the coming week.” Malus’s voice resonated with confidence that anything but total victory was impossible. “Treat the Novaen refugees well. There will be much work to ensure everyone is comfortable, and we must all share in the work.”
Atzi shook from her stupor. Why should I have to do any work? It’s not my fault!
“Good night, people of Sostra.” Malus strode back inside the main temple.
The two gods lingered out on the balcony, staring down at the people. Then they too returned to the temple.
Many people chose to stay, discussing the announcement, or entering the temples of their chosen god to pray. Atzi just left. It’s good there isn’t a draft… well, I would have been ducking it anyway. But that sort of confidence is why the Arch Priestess scares me.
The prophet of the Saintess could kill Atzi without knowing she was there. For a brief moment, she thought about this - then she began to think about the money she’d soon be making, instead.
Once I get to Parish’s, I’ll watch this Braun guy until he goes home. After I know where he lives, then I can break in while he’s out drinking again! Atzi snickered to herself. I’m brilliant.
A fair number of people shared the part of Atzi’s plan that involved going to the tavern, as it was already packed when she entered. She could have gotten there faster, but when she daydreamed, she would wander half-aimlessly, starting and stopping according to how much her visions of wealth and success consumed her.
Inside, it took her no time at all to pick out the rich ex-soldier, or notice his messy clothes, large gut, and thinning hair. He had a quarter of the long bar to himself, the space cluttered with thirty empty mugs beside him. He was sobbing non stop as he drained his thirty-first.
He’s just some human! How is he not dead?! Then she realized something. Wait, this is the guy I bumped into the other day. Damn, I could have been rich already.
“Why? Why!” Braun slammed the empty mug on the counter. “Another drink!” he slurred.
Either Parish didn’t tell him he didn’t have to pay upfront, or the middle-aged man was too drunk to remember, because he fumbled with his coin pouch. After failing to stick his fingers inside, he just ripped the entire thing from his belt and spilled it on the counter. Twenty gold coins rolled out.
Atzi felt like her eyes were popping out of her head, seeing that. Just imagine… that money, but me holding it. Realizing she was staring too much, she looked around for a place to sit down, and to her luck found someone leaving a corner spot. She took the seat just as its previous occupant paid his tab.
Braun picked his gold coins up one by one, putting them back in his pouch. Only the last he left behind, which Parish happily took and gave the man a pile of bronze in return. Atzi was willing to bet Parish overcharged him.
I could eat bugs for years with all that. It’s wasted on this guy. She wasn’t sure how much money he’d have at home, since he didn’t look or sound like your typical rich guy. Atzi adjusted her plan to include swiping a coin or two. Not the entire pouch - if she only took a few, he’d just think he lost them.
She watched him drink for hours, customers eventually thinning out. In that time he more than doubled what he drank. Even I’d struggle to drink that much.
The more he drank, the more clearly wasted he got, sobbing louder and more frequently. “Oh, ohhh, why…”
Three men entered the bar; refugees Atzi had seen before, the stooges. Stooge one strode confidently forward in a green silk shirt. Stooge two grinned, observing. Stooge three nervously glanced around, tapping his foot.
Oh shit, is this a theft? Atzi ducked low, reducing her profile, but watched closely.
Stooge one opened his arms as he approached Braun. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
Braun didn’t look at him, staring down into his cup. “I… I…” His lower lip quivered. “She was all I had left…”
Stooge one patted him on the shoulder. “There, there.” He transitioned his pat to an overly-friendly hold loosely around Braun’s neck.
This is my score! Assholes!
Stooge two nonchalantly walked by. He reached towards the coin pouch.
“Huh…?” Braun suddenly swiveled his head towards his money.
He heard that?
Stooge two suddenly took on the mannerisms of a drunk, knocking into the bar. “Ahh! Shorry,” he slurred, and stumbled away. After getting a safe distance away, he gave a shrug to the first.
Stooge one looked pissed, but quickly went back to smiling. “You know, it sounds like you’re really going through a lot of tough shit. That sucks.” He pulled Braun up, getting him out from his seat. “How about we go for a walk and you tell me all about it?”
Braun balled up his coin pouch in his fist, and dropped it into his pocket, before heading out with them.
Atzi realized the drunk had more sense to him than he looked. There’s no way someone goes out drinking and throwing this much money around un-mugged without a good reason. Still, there’s three of them, so who knows?
She stealthily followed them, keeping a safe distance behind, but tracking by their noise. The four - even the nervous looking one went - walked for a bit before stopping in a nearby alley lit only by dim moonlight.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Alright, you drunk idiot. Fork it over.” Stooge one let go of Braun and picked up a nearby club.
“Yeah, or else!” Stooge two pulled out a dagger and waved it around.
Atzi had hidden herself behind a stall, and was looking towards the dagger. Wow, he’s not even holding it right.
Stooge three meekly lifted up another club, pointed down like he didn’t even know what weapons were used for. “...Please.”
Surrounded, Braun cried. “She… she told me not to, but…”
“I don’t care who told you what, old man. Money. Now.” Stooge one raised his club. He was the only one holding his weapon properly.
Maybe if I pretend to help him, he’ll buy me dinner as thanks… he’s in the bar all the time anyway. I’m so smart. Atzi prepared to jump in at the right time.
Braun’s face twitched. “No!” he roared, stomping a foot.
Stooge one shrugged. “Alright.” Then he swiftly swung the club down.
Oh, the old man is going to die.
The wooden club shattered against Braun’s shoulder. “Fuck you!” he sputtered, and took a swing of his own, just his bare fist. It smashed into stooge one, who slammed ass-first onto the limestone street, cracking both ass and street.
Atzi had enough sense not to shout.
Blood began to pool around stooge one, but he was distinctly alive, groaning in pain.
Braun popped his knuckles. “Fuckers… only looking for easy money…” he muttered.
The other two dropped their weapons. Stooge two shouted, “Fuck, let’s get out of here!” The pair grabbed their friend and dragged him away, Braun watching them sourly.
Atzi waited until they were gone. Okay, new approach. She slinked from her hiding spot and up to Braun. “Are you okay, old guy?”
“Ahh… don’t tell me you want my money too…” Braun hiccupped between his words, sadly sinking in on himself.
“Wh-what? No! I saw them take you outside and thought you were gonna get mugged. I could have… taken you to a doctor after.” I’m a helpful lizard.
“No… it’s better off if I die…” Then he started sobbing again, face between his palms.
“Is that why you were drinking and crying the whole time?”
Braun jerked his head up, shouting to the sky, “Her chicken!”
What? “What?”
“It’s all my fault…”
This guy is lucky he’s rich or I wouldn’t have the patience to talk to him. “A chicken?”
“First my wife, then her chicken. It’s all my fault.” Braun stumbled forward, not watching in front of him.
Atzi slid to the side, avoiding getting in the drunk’s way. “Do you need a new chicken? I know a guy with a bunch.”
“It was the last thing I had to remember her by. Then… it died!”
Even the Water doesn’t cry as much as this guy. “Oh. Uh. There there? You gonna be alright to get home?”
He sniffed. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll be okay. She wouldn’t want me to die…”
An idea struck Atzi. “If you wanna talk about it, I’ll be in the bar again tomorrow.” I’ll get a free plate of beetles out of this for sure. Maybe two! That’s tomorrow’s food handled, and then the day after is the heist. Reverse-heist. Easy.
Atzi would, and had, begged for meals before. As long as she didn’t have to put in actual effort, of course.
Her words seemed to reach Braun. He gave his first smile of the night, a wide and unsightly thing that looked like he was constipated. Then he farted.
Gross!
“Okay, see you there-” he said, interrupting himself by stumbling away.
Alone, Atzi looked down at the broken bloody stone in the middle of the alley. Glad I didn’t try to rob this guy. I knew it was too good to be true.
Before Atzi wandered back home, she picked up the dagger dropped by stooge two. Could be useful. She knew how to use her claws for self-defense, which not every lizard did, but she still preferred to have a weapon. Not that she had ever needed to use either.
===
The next afternoon, Atzi overheard the refugees again as she left the slums.
“They definitely caused trouble,” the warrior insisted.
The refugee woman was busy rebandaging his leg. “Vance is already bleeding out the ass for it. With any luck, it’ll turn him around.”
“Thinks just because his sister is a priestess he can-”
Atzi didn’t actually care to eavesdrop. She wanted nothing to do with the refugees at all, especially those three. How did living in the slums get even worse? Pillar cracked, loud neighbors, if it wasn’t for the job lined up she’d have lost it already. It’s fine, I won’t be here long.
She didn’t have anything pressing, and wondered what to do. Wait, what if I went back to the inn and got that meal I was cheated out of. Surely they’d have to give me another!
Plan in claw, Atzi drifted towards The One Eye Open. When she got there, she found it in terrible shape.
A window was broken and boarded up, someone had stolen the sign, and there were carvings on the side of the building, stating ‘Filthy cyclops!’, ‘Go home!’, ‘Explode!’
Will I still be able to get my food?
She peered through a small gap in the boarded up window. The place was empty, save the cyclops innkeeper sighing alone at the bar. Even the tables and staircase leading up looked in worse repair, splinters of wood missing.
Atzi pushed open the door and slinked in. She raised her voice across the room, “Are you still serving food?”
Hemm's one big eye opened wide, and she smiled. It was the smile of someone who never thought she’d get another customer. “Y-yes! Of course! Of course! What will it be? Ah, we’re low on chicken at the moment. I could make you a cricket curry?”
Atzi approached the bar. “Fine by me, bugs are tastier anyway. I dunno how humans eat chicken all day without getting bored of it.”
Hemm nodded. She didn’t ask for payment first, rushing back towards the kitchen.
She must remember me and know I didn’t get to eat. Wow, she’s really nice.
Atzi took a seat at the bar and waited. After a few minutes, a spicy scent wafted towards her. She did her best to not drool - or look at the spots where her drool had already eaten through the bar from her accident two nights ago.
Hemm came back out shortly, the curry spread over rice, and with a clay mug of water. She set them down on the counter. “Oh right, the payment. Well, since you’re the first customer of the day, if you tell other people it’s okay to come here, I’ll give you half price?”
Atzi was about to dig in, only paying attention near the end. “H-half price?”
“As thanks.” Hemm smiled.
“I… came here to get the meal I didn’t get to eat before.”
An awkward silence ensued.
Hemm closed her one big eye and took a deep breath. Just then, someone slammed open the front door.
A rough looking guy stumbled in. He wore cheap leather clothes, covered in stains. He sneered at the sight of Atzi.
I don’t know you! Why do you hate me already!
“Oh look, a customer,” he said. “Go eat somewhere else.” He slammed the door shut behind him. “Understood?” He rested a hand on a club at his hip.
Hemm backed up.
Atzi was acutely aware of the weight of her new dagger. I don’t want to get hurt! Should I just leave? But if I scared him off I’d definitely get the meal for free, maybe several… Ugh, I’m so hungry! Fear and hunger warred inside her as she debated what to do.