The Cheeky Badger smelled of ale, wet wood, stew, and people who had decided that the day was done. Albin stood in the door for a moment, one hand still on the frame, fingers leaving dark streaks of dried mud behind him.
No one looked at him.
It was nice.
He closed the door and stepped inside. His feet left damp prints on the floor as mud flaked off his trousers with every movement. His hands felt stiff despite shaking. The cuts were now stinging, and upon looking down, his skin appeared red around the cuts.
Shadow slipped inside behind him and disappeared beneath a table without drawing attention.
He breathed slowly. Once. Twice.
For the first time since the river, his shoulders dropped. Not because he trusted the place, but because he had nothing left to hold them up.
The noise was steady. A low hum of voices, a laugh near the hearth, someone dragging a chair across the floor. No alarms. No shouting. Nothing is moving where it shouldn't.
He made his way to the counter, where Maya stood. Sleeves rolled up, hair tied back. She glanced up, took him in from head to toes, and didn't comment any further.
"You're back," she said. "That was quick."
"Long enough," Albin replied.
He reached into his pocket and placed the coins on the counter. Six copper.
Maya picked them up, weighing them in her palm. "Looks like it paid off."
"The water runs."
She nodded, satisfied. "Good. They have been worried. Been dangerous there."
Maya picked three of the coins and left the other three on the counter, shoving them at Albin. "And you've paid. Looking to stay another night?"
Albin didn't answer. He slid onto a stool, elbows on the counter, letting the warmth seep into him. Letting his clothes dry a little bit. He opened his hands, inspecting the cuts. His fingers are still swollen.
Maya placed a mug in front of him. "Drink."
He did. Slowly. The water tasted faintly of minerals and smoke. It grounded him.
Behind him, someone laughed. A child's voice joined in, high and careless.
Albin's eyes closed for a moment. After opening his eyes, he looked around the room. Families. Workers. People who had been here yesterday and would be here tomorrow. The child sat on a bench near the fireplace, legs swinging, kicking at the flames, entirely unconcerned with the fact that the world could open beneath its feet if he dug in the wrong places.
He looked away before he could decide why it bothered him.
"Your hands look bad." Maya was still looking at him. Not as busy as she had been the day before.
"They do," while now inspecting under his nails while trying to move his wedding ring simultaneously.
Maya grabbed his hand. "I noticed that yesterday. You wear a ring?"
Albin lowered his hands. "Yes, marriage ring."
"You married a ring?"
"It doesn't… It is a custom where I come from. We exchange rings when we marry." His eyes narrowed, voice cold, while pulling his hand back from Maya. It was not hers to hold.
"You don't use paintings? Meisen must be a strange place."
"But I never…"
"It's a small town," Maya answered before he could finish and winked at him. "You should clean your hands before it gets worse. There's a trough outside."
He loo
Albin nodded, standing up. He could feel the weight on his legs as he jumped off the stool.
He slowly tumbled outside, around the corner of the Badger, and towards the trough.
Shadow followed. "You are filthy."
"I know."
"You smell like river and fear."
"I know."
As he lowered to take a closer look at the trough, Shadow jumped onto an edge. Looking at Albin through the reflection of the water. "You look alive."
He looked back, catching the green eyes inside the reflection, and twitched as his hand formed a fist, pressing the dirt deeper into his cuts.
The water wasn't clean. He looked at his hands once more. Dirt everywhere. Beneath his nails. Inside his cuts. Everything mixed with sweat and blood.
It was a brown whiff that appeared as soon as his hands entered the water. It was cold, and the moment his hands touched the water, the pulsing in his fingers stopped. Followed by a decrease in pressure from the inside.
He started cleaning the rough dirt at first, then polishing away the dirt between his fingers, and eventually cleaning his cuts. A "Tchhh" escaped his mouth when he cleaned the first cut, and water touched the inside. He continued his cleansing and was done, rubbing the final bit of mud off his hands, then shaking the excess water off his hands. Pulling his hands to his face, some cuts were meaningless. Others went deeper. He couldn't move his wedding ring along his finger, but he was able to turn it in the same place.
He looked up. "So we still have some time before night."
An old man walked past Albin, making his head shoot up, down a street.
XXX
After some walking, he stood in front of a larger wooden building. It looked by far the oldest in Mistelbrunn and caught Albin's attention when entering the city. An old, shabby sign that hung on two small chains from a post said "Library".
He opened the double doors and heard them creak under their own weight. A plank of wood was loose.
A library. With chairs, tables to read on, and shelves filled with books. The shelves, as well as most of the tables, were dusty. Only a few books looked free from dust as he strove over the shelves. They were covered in spider webs. The books smelled of rot. Something like finding an old newspaper years later in the attic.
The building was empty aside from a man with gray hair, a long beard, wrinkles in his face, slowly moving his head up, looking his sunken eyes on Albin. "H'lo, who is it?" The sound echoed through the small building.
His steps echoed on the worn stone floor as he walked toward the source of the sound.
"May I disturb? My name is Albin, I'm new in town."
"Ahhh, so it is you. Sit. Or rummage. This library doesn't close its doors to anyone. Come."
He closed the doors behind him and walked closer. "So, are you the owner?"
"Owner? Hah! This library has no owner. It just exists. Waiting to be visited. Ohhh, the treasures!"
"Thank you. I'll look around."
The man ran his fingers through his beard, nodded, and then looked down at his book again.
Albin walked through the corridors between the bookshelves. They all had an order. Somewhat like in genres. "Hunters", "Guards", "Philosopher", "Baker", "Summoners", and many more. He stopped in front of the last shelf. There were fewer books, but a lot to read. On this shelf, all of the books were dusty.
He grabbed one of the books and opened it, skimming through. His eyes got stuck on the words. He had not seen that language, these letters, before. Now thinking about it, it was more strange that he could understand written and spoken language around. He grabbed the book and made his way to the only other man in the building.
"Excuse me, what language is this?"
"Let me see…" The man took the book from Albin and started reading. "Old Thurish, this one. Can't read it, hm? Do not reprimand yourself, most cannot these days," he closed the book and handed it over to Albin.
"Can you read it for me?"
"Can, yes, but I shan't," his head went down to the book he was invested in. "You will find a lot of books in your language. Good luck."
The old man got back to reading and left Albin alone.
He turned back to the shelf and looked at another book. This one he could understand.
Summoned Beasts
An Encyclopedia of Beasts for the New Summoner
Not quite what Albin needed. He thought for a moment and started reading either way.
"I don't think you'll find what you are looking for here," Shadow stood beside Albin, who leaned against a shelf and started reading. Carefully holding the book with only his fingertips.
"Knowing and thinking don't have to go hand in hand."
He read for a while. Reading about different things a summoner could call. Some were different pets. He knew some, but only got an idea from the description of others. Others were for entertainment, like small creatures that consisted of light, which also came in handy in the dark. And even others were abstract things. Like creatures or weapons. But those, apparently, only came in the later levels.
"Levels, hm?"
He jumped over to another book. Skimming some of the books he could read and marking their backs with an "A" on the back by painting in the dust.
If Summoning Fails
Ever wondered what to do if something you did not intend gets summoned?
Albin read.
When a pet or a creature does not get summoned, but instead only its arm, there can be many reasons. One of the more common is the pronunciation of the formula. Focus on the correct formulation. For new summoners, it is the sound "schj" that stands in their way. Talk to other summoners and practice the formula together...…
Albin closed the book. "This one doesn't work either," he mumbled as he painted another "A" on the back of the book and put it back on the shelf. The more he read, the clearer it became that none of it answered the question he hadn't stopped asking.
The light outside began to dim, and Albin could see lanterns on the streets lighting up through a foggy window.
Once more, he looked over the shelf, smiled, and walked outside. "See you tomorrow."
The old man nodded in his direction. "Aah, see you tomorrow."
As he closed the door and walked, a woman switched to the side of the road when she saw Albin. A young man turned to his friend. "This is the Outworlder…"
He made his way back to the Cheeky Badger, to the counter, and placed his last Coin on the table. "Two for the stew, one for the bed?"
Maya turned around. "It is actually one for the stew and one for the bed. Let's call the one extra from yesterday a risk insurance," as she smiled at him. This soft smile.
Albin put one coin back into his pants and pushed the other two towards Maya. "Good."
Another bowl of stew was placed in front of Albin.
"Hey, you're the Outworlder who's cleaned the blockage?"
Albin turned around and saw a man at a table looking toward him.
"Yes."
"T'was important! My family can eat this winter!"
Albin's lips twitched and formed a try of a smile. The other nodded and turned around.
He enjoyed the stew.
After finishing up, he made his way upstairs, took the same bed he had taken before. He undressed and dry mud fell on the floor. He didn't care. His clothes in a dirty pile, his legs heavy, his hands still too big for their skin, he laid down and covered himself with the sheets. "That bastard lied to me…" he mumbled as he stared at the ceiling. The straw underneath itched.
XXX
The night passed without dreams.
When he woke up the next day, the room was filled with early light. Pale, quiet. His hands were neither shaking nor pulsating. He checked his palms and noticed that the cuts looked better. Less red. Not good. Just better. He lay still for a moment, listening to the muffled sounds below. The Badger waking up, chairs moving, voices low and unhurried.
To his side laid Shadow, tail slowly wiggling and purring softly with eyes closed.
Today, no one washes his clothes for him.
He got dressed, quickly shaking out his pants from the rest of the mud, and made his way downstairs.
Morning in the Cheeky Badger felt different. Less noise. More routine. Maya nodded at him as he passed. One of the early guests bumped into his shoulder apologetically. Shadow following from upstairs, just another cat.
He drank some water, bumped the mug onto the counter, and left the Badger.
To the notice board. Albin carefully picked a note that requested aid in transporting a cart of food from a shop to a warehouse. It was a simple task, and he earned two copper coins. He fulfilled another request. Buying a sack of potatoes for an elderly woman. He earned another copper.
In the afternoon, he took Shadow with him to the library. Today, he did not find what he came for either, but he learned about his Summon Familiar ability. It was not common, and there were different classes that could get this ability. Mages could summon arcane familiars, and Hunters could acquire a beast familiar to help them hunt. Summoners could summon creatures as their familiars.
He also found out that some classes are more common than others. And that there are rumors of races that could get two classes. The most common class in Thuria was the Farmer. Most of the more special classes, like Mage or Knight, were advised to go to Caldrin, the capital, to visit special academies. People blessed with some of the classes became adventurers, soldiers, or had other positions.
He just needed a tiny bit of proof. Anything. A name. Other Outworlders. Anything about otherworldly summonings.
Albin repeated the same routine for the next few days, looking for more information on the topic of summons. Work in the morning. Reading in the afternoon. He could pay everything on time, even spared a few coins for new clothes, and had some left over. He got to know more people, more places, more quirks of the people of Mistelbrunn. He talked to Rondris when he was on duty. The Guard spared a few words, but mostly kept to his duty.
He talked to Maya. The habits of marriage, the paintings that were just tattoos.
And more importantly to Albin, he talked to the people. After a few days, there were still people who muttered "Outworlder" as he walked by. But there were also people smiling or nodding at him. When he laid in bed at night, when he was alone. That was still the moment a deep breath escaped his lungs.
Shadow got quieter over time, making remarks about the weird obsession of humans for warm meals and the even weirder obsession with keeping animals in their homes and giving them names.
XXX
When Albin woke up the fifth morning, he could afford to buy breakfast. He took his time and enjoyed the familiar taste of bread in the morning. Albin decided to stay on one to two meals per day and only work as much as necessary in order to spend as much time as possible in the library. He still hasn't found what he was looking for. The thought made him press on the bread harder than he intended.
Maya smiled at him from the counter, wiping a wet rag along the surface.
Upon leaving, there was a small group standing near the door closer than necessary. The conversation was slow. Voices lowered. Someone came in, pale-faced, said something too quiet to hear, and left again. As Albin closed in, someone turned around. No one answered immediately. "There was an accident," one of them said finally.
The group left the Cheeky Badger, walking at a fast pace. They walked out north, passed Rondris, who was on duty. Albin followed. With increasing pace, they walked to Harlik's fields and stopped when…
They saw a woman.
Two people are standing next to her. One of them, Harlik.
Albin had seen her from a distance upon arriving in Mistelbrunn. Her family was regulars in the Badger as well.
Sitting in the dirt, clothes muddy.
She just sat there. Staring into the distance.
As the group got closer, the pace slowed. They walked now. Quietly.
"They thought it was safe…" said a hollow voice.
They stood now. There was pressure in Albin's chest. His skin got wet when they stopped walking. The sweat got soaked up by the fiber of his shirt.
The woman sat. Quietly. Staring into the distance. Holding onto something in her lap.
Upon taking a closer look, he noticed it.
It was wet. A tiny muddy boot.
Harlik put his paw on her shoulder, breathing slowly. His eyes were red. He sniffed.
No one erupted. No one shouted. No one cried openly.
It was quiet.
Around him, no one spoke.
The mother did not cry. Harlik did not shout. The others did not turn away. They just stood there as if the world had decided to pause for a moment.
Albin closed his hands into fists.
He had done everything right. Restored the water. Earned his copper.
He could trace the chain of events without gaps. Without guesses. Mud. Water. Pressure. Collapse.
It made sense.
That was the problem.
For the first time in his life, Albin understood that being careful was not the same as being harmless. And some consequences did not wait for intent.
Albin stood very still. Looking at his clean hands.
He turned away.