Special Event - A Drink For Two (Rayco)

The tavern is brimming with life. Half-sung songs, bursts of laughter, and murmured conversations drowned in beer fill the air with a festive warmth. Rayco moves between the tables with the skill of someone who has done this for years, balancing tankards, dodging drunken arms, and responding with smiles to stories he’s heard countless times.

You, seated at the bar with your own drink in hand -idly stroking Enid with the other-, watch him. It’s always impressive how he handles the chaos with a mastery that seems almost effortless, but tonight, his work appears more demanding than usual. There isn’t a single quiet corner in the tavern. Heartbinding Day has turned Tamarant into a whirlwind of emotions and the occasional drunken confession, all soaked in mead and wine.

“Need a hand?” you ask as he approaches the bar, setting down a stack of empty tankards.

Rayco raises an eyebrow, amused. “You’d rather work than enjoy what the night has to offer?”

You shrug. “It’s not like I have anyone to share it with. Which, by the way, thanks for reminding me.”

He chuckles at your playful tone. “Well, if you’re willing to get your hands dirty, I won’t stop you.”

And so, you find yourself diving into the bustle alongside him. It doesn’t take long to realize that keeping up with Rayco is nearly impossible. While you barely manage to serve a round without spilling anything, he’s already cleaned a table, taken new orders, and listened to a fisherman recount how he won over his wife by accidentally hitting her with his fishing rod. All this without the slightest sign of fatigue on his face.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you laugh as Rayco passes by while you wipe down a table.

“Years of practice,” he replies, flashing a wink.

But the feeling of working alongside him, of sharing knowing glances amidst the sea of patrons, makes the night pass quickly.

When the last table is empty and the noise of the tavern has faded into the soft crackling of the hearth, you stretch with a satisfied sigh. Your clothes are stained with wine and flour, your hair slightly dishevelled, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face, satisfied after a job well done.

“You saved my night,” Rayco says, wiping his hands on a cloth. You lost sight of him during the final moments of closing, but before you can ask where he went, he adds, “Wait here.”

You watch as he disappears through the arch leading to the kitchen. When he returns, he carries two steaming mugs and takes a seat at the table closest to the fire. With a small gesture, he invites you to sit across from him.

The spiced aroma of the drink envelops you the moment you lift the cup to your lips. It’s not wine or beer, but something sweeter, with a hint of cinnamon mixed with the citrusy tang of lemon peels floating on the surface.

“This tastes amazing,” you exclaim. “What is it?”

“It’s called zaperoco,” Rayco says with that thick accent of his, gazing at his cup with a nostalgic expression as he absently strokes a half-asleep Enid. “We drink this often in my homeland. It’s a… family recipe. We prepare it for festivities or when we seek good fortune in the stars. It brings people together.”

“You don’t talk much about your homeland, but from the way you describe it, it must be a beautiful place,” you say, blowing gently over your drink.

Rayco chuckles. “Doesn’t everyone speak that way about the place they were born?”

You smile faintly, lowering your gaze to your cup as thoughts of your childhood in Aelmere cross your mind. “Maybe.”

“But in this case, you’re right, it is beautiful,” he continues. “But it can also be noisy and chaotic. Especially during festivals.”

“You don’t seem like someone who enjoys chaos.”

Rayco lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Not at all. But some moments are worth enduring the madness for.” He glances out the window, watching the couples strolling hand in hand through the streets of Sorrol, and his smile softens. “Like this one, for example.”

“Wow. You’re a complete softie, aren’t you?” you tease, taking another sip.

“I totally am,” he admits with a laugh. “I must say, I have a special fondness for this day. I admire the things people choose to give their loved ones.”

“So you like grand romantic gestures?”

“Not really. I value the simple over the extravagant. Like sharing sweet bread with a sibling, tying a soft ribbon around a lover’s wrist, a whispered promise in the dark…”

“Or making a friend a drink from your homeland?” you suggest with a smirk, raising your cup in emphasis.

Rayco chuckles and nods. “Exactly.”

Then, he glances down at his cup, and you realize he’s barely touched his drink while you’re already halfway through yours. He turns the mug slowly in his hands, staring at the foam swirling on top.

“I never imagined I’d end up celebrating tonight like this,” he says suddenly, his violet eyes meeting yours as a gentle smile settles on his lips. “But I have to admit, it’s a nice way to end this day, don’t you think?”

The fire casts soft shadows over his freckled face, adding a quiet intimacy to the empty tavern. Outside, couples celebrate under the moon, exchanging words of love and promises for the future. But here, in the dim glow of the fireplace, with a warm drink in your hands and Rayco’s presence beside you, there’s something just as special.

Something unnamed but undeniably warm, settling deep within your chest.

“I agree,” you finally reply, returning his smile with one of your own.