Coffee cliché and a mimic

Coffee. 

I didn’t know how much I relied on the beverage before coming here. I’d never been much of a drinker before meeting the priest and Joanna. They both loved the stuff and forced it on me every time I came over. 

The cook laughed and poured me a cup, “Here ya go.” 

I cradled it reverently while inhaling its wonderful aroma, “Sorry, what did you say?” I asked Yusuf and took a sip.

“I asked where you came from.” 

“Oh, London originally. We were in Turkey for a youth trip. I helped a friend take care of the kids.” 

“That’s great and all, but I meant: Where the hell were you the first month?” 

“It really has been a month, huh?” I hummed and nodded. No wonder I picked up a few odd habits. “I was in the Chamber… uh, coiled building on the other side of town.” 

Yusuf stopped, smile fading. He looked at me as if I was a ghost.  

“What?” I asked. “First Elana, now you. What’s so bad about that place?”

He gulped, “Well, for one, the Jailors.” 

“Plural? I never really saw more than one, and I spent a damn long time walking around.” 

“You saw one up close?”

I nodded, “Got a good look too as I strangled him.” I took another sip of coffee. 

The silence stretched long between us. Yusuf cleared his throat and covered his mouth with a hand, then whispered, “You killed a jailor?” 

“Yup. Real big guy, got me these,” I bragged and waved my brass-clad fingers in his face. 

“An accolade?! What kind of fucked up blessing did you get? How much time do you have?” 

I snorted, “Rude. Also, what do you mean: time? My patron really didn’t explain much.” 

Yusuf rubbed his face. “That damned Patron of yours,” he began, “every blessing comes with a set amount of time to reach the next stage. The stronger they are, the less time, usually.” 

I squinted. Having a time limit would be a problem. I had no intention of going back to this place if I could avoid it. I just wanted to live out the rest of my days in peace, living off of the things I brought back. 

I shrugged, “I don’t think mine is that powerful. I was just lucky in killing the thing. Somehow I paralyzed it, so it didn’t resist when I finished it.”

He blinked at me and sighed, “It’s an impressive feat. Very praiseworthy.”

His gaze shifted as he looked around, then he leaned in close. “I honestly think it might be best if you keep that to yourself. The commander and her officers are meek around powerful outsiders. Unless you want to join us, if so, then flaunt your power all you want.”  

“Yeah… I don’t know yet. I still need to find Joanna and the kids. Heard they were somewhere pretty close.,” I said and finished my cup while reaching out to push him back.

My hands sunk deep into the robe before they hit his chest. He was skinny, very skinny. The robe gave him a much healthier look. I studied him curiously. His face showed no signs of malnourishment. In fact, it showed the opposite.

He coughed dryly. I could see in his face that he knew. But he didn’t seem like he wanted me to ask about it, so I didn’t. There was nothing to gain by pressing the matter further, anyway. Yusuf was the only one I really clicked with since being dragged to the Forgotten lands. 

“So … What’s on the agenda?” I asked. 

“I’ve got patrol coming up.” 

“Got it. You wouldn’t know where Elana’s room is?” 

“Nah. She lives on the other side. Ask Anna. She knows everything,” he smiled and left with a wave.

“See you!” he called. 

“Yeah, see you.”  

Once again, surrounded by strangers. It almost felt like walking through a big city. Not at all how my life had been the last year. The town nearby was one of those where everybody knew each other. I liked not feeling anonymous. Everyone was kind, and knew how not me well enough to know I didn’t like talking about my past. 

I scurried away from sight under their whispers. They whispered about my arm, about how suspicious it was that I showed up with Elana when they needed her back. I really didn’t get why everyone thought it was so odd for me to have two different arms. Some people could conjure literal spells from thin air. Yet my black arm was weird? Fuck them. 

I shook my head, shoved my hands into my pockets and strolled over to Anna. 

“Hey,” I greeted her. 

“Sleep well?” she asked. 

“Can’t complain. It’s been a while since I had a bed. Or a pillow.”

“You don’t know what you have before it’s gone,” she muttered silently.

One of the many contradictions in life. I’d thought about it many times before. I never really appreciated having a family before they were ripped from out of my hands. Now I spent more time missing them than not.

“Do you know where I can find Elana? Or her room?” I asked. 

She raised her eyebrow and looked me up and down, “You going to creep on her?”

I shrugged, “She promised me an accolade for getting her back. I would much rather prefer if she was there to give it to me, though. I’m not much for stealing. Much less when it's from the disabled.” 

“Yeah, I’d advise against it. She’s more able than you think,” she teased. 

“She got her vision back?”

“Almost. And she’s quite adept at ass-kicking,” Anna said and smiled, her gaze lingered on my hand again. 

I grimaced, “It’s not that bad, really. It’s just part of my blessing. Works like any other arm I ever had.”

She exhaled and looked down, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s alright. I would too.” I was being truthful. The macabre and odd had a certain charm to it. 

She nodded, pity in her eyes, and pointed, “Go up those stairs. Once you hear the moans and groans, you’re close to the sickbay. Old Tomaš only complains if there are people around to hear.”  

“Got it,” I forced a smile and turned to the stairs. Her pity put me on edge. She was a pleasant woman, I was sure of it now. But just that act alone had me boiling. I balled my hands into fists and walked away.

I had to walk through the entire gathering of gossipers once again. But it was all for a good cause. A new accolade would be a nice addition to my bank account when I got out of this place. Unless I also had one of those timers Yusuf spoke about. 

After passing through the horde of gossipers, I ascended a large, staircase. Atop it, just like Anna had said, I could hear the moans and groans of a not at all very old man. 

“Tomás?” I asked. 

“Uh, what?” he answered with a pained moan. 

“Nothing,” I said with a chuckle and walked past. 

Old Tomás? He moaned like he was dying, but he definitely wasn’t old. It was the way he moaned. My grandfather moaned like that every time he sat down or got up from chairs. Almost religiously. A mystery for the ages, I supposed. 

I walked through a beautifully carved doorway, entering what could only be the sick-bay. Makeshift beds with way thicker mattresses were placed equal spaces away from each other. Thin curtains separated them from each other. Most beds were vacant, but in the ones that weren’t silhouettes painted the curtains when the light hit just right. In the far end of the room Elana lay comfortably, getting treated by a red-haired woman. Couldn’t be anyone other than Maria. 

She was beautiful. Slender body, sharp eyes, a button nose and thick rosy lips. 

“Yo,” I greeted Elana. 

“Yo?” she waved and greeted back. 

Her eyes had regrown. Well, one had. The other was well on its way. The eyeball was there, but not the iris and pupil. 

Maria glanced at me, then back to Elana. “Let’s take a break. You’ll be good as new before nightfall. Don’t go doing anything straining though,” she said and turned to tend to another patient. The white coat fluttered behind her. Very doctor-like. 

“How are you doing?” I asked. 

“Not bad. I can see again,” she smiled and pointed at her fully healed chestnut eye. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, it wasn’t free. Let’s go have a look at the payment, shall we?” I smiled at her. 

She clicked her tongue. “Cheapskate. Can’t you even let me recover fully before fleecing me?” 

“Killing for charity would make me a villain, and I strive to do better than that.” 

She gasped, “A super villain?” 

I raised my eyebrow, “I didn’t think you were much for jokes?”

“Ever had maggots crawl in your eye-sockets?” she scoffed. “Really takes the fun out of things.” 

“... You’ve got a point.” 

She squirmed atop the bunk, “Yeah. So, thanks again.”  

“Don’t worry about it,” I reinsured her. 

She really shouldn’t thank me. I didn’t consider it weird at the time. But the thought of sacrificing her to the Slitherstitch did cross my mind. All to make things easier for myself. I was ready to send her to the slaughter to make things easy.

Something in me was changing. Maybe it would have been weirder if nothing changed. But it still felt weird to be aware of the change as it happened. 

Elana rolled her eyes and complained. “Just take the thanks and get on with your life, goddamnit.”

She hopped off the bunk like a spring coming to life. “Well then. Let’s go have a look at the merchandise before I change my mind.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I twittered and followed her back to her room. It turned out to be in the same part of the library as mine. Just way closer to the bathroom. 

When she cracked open the window, the smell of shit lying on the street wafted inside. It was disgusting beyond belief, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“What’s wrong with you?!” I asked and clamped my nose shut. 

“What?” she laughed evilly and turned to the window. “You get used to it. A few moments of stink is nothing compared to living in a stale room.” 

“I’d much rather prefer the stale air,” I complained nasally. 

“Yeah, well, tough luck. My room, my rules. Don’t like it? Then go.” 

This was obviously a terror attempt. She was trying to scare me out of getting my accolade by use of stink. “I’ll bear it,” I said, still nasal.

She groaned and pulled the window shut and muttered something incomprehensible. 

She kicked a coffer, the lid popped open with a groan. “Fucking guy… There,” she said and sat down on her bed, resting her head in her palms. 

I bent down to look inside. 

Crate of Mimicry

Rank: Foretold 

Type: Storage

Description: A storage crate that’s seen use in a great many places. Once they were produced in bulk, now not many remain. 

Embroidery: Mimic

Effect: The crate can be used to mimic the interior size of another storage unit.

“Can I pick this?” I asked and pointed at the crate. 

“Fuck off,” she shot back and crossed her legs. “You promised not to take my favorite. That’s the single most valuable thing I have. You’re gonna have to pry it from my cold dead hands.” 

Regaining her sight really gave her a whole new level of spunk. I rolled my eyes and looked inside.