by T Shadow
“Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord, my soul to keep
If I shall die before I wake
I pray the Lord, my soul to take”
The intro to Halsey’s 'Nightmare' plays through the speakers, which sets the mood in the pub, charging it from boring to a club atmosphere in moments. Customers are hauling themselves up out of their dingy booths to join Mika and I on the makeshift dance floor. I can see a few Elves jamming to themselves in the corner, the Fae starting to erupt in obnoxiously loud singing. Everybody is ready for a party and Mika has picked the ultimate playlist.
Mika unleashes her backwards dancing as the chorus commences and I don’t stop myself from joining in with her. The only thing that would make this night better would be a drink in my hand, but I will prolong the need until this song is over. I might hate modern technology, but this song hits home.
“I, I keep a record of the wreckage in my life
I gotta recognise the weapon in my mind
They talk shit, but I love it every time
And I realise…”
Without missing a beat, the whole pub sings in unison “I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet”. Slightly uncanny, considering that many individuals in this establishment have, in fact, tasted blood. I personally think the copper taste sticks in your mouth, so it’s kind of like having to neck a chaser to swallow down the bitterness of the shot.
I dance with Mika until the song ends, having sung our hearts out to our favourite song of the month. We’re sweaty, dehydrated, and in need of a stiff drink. Taking Mika’s wrist in my hand, I drag her from the pile of writhing bodies to the bar, where I try to flag down Eldevair. He doesn’t notice me, but Eldevair is in the corner of the bar, swaying to the beat of the music, distracted.
“Hey Eldevair! Can we get some drinks here?!” I shout over the music, though I’m sure his super sidhe hearing could hear me if I’d whispered. I see an ear twitch and he turns to acknowledge me. The snarl on his lips dies down as he sees Mika, flustered from the heat and sweating like a nun in a whore house. Glasses find their way under the pumps without a second thought and Eldevair has poured Mika’s drink in seconds. Mine follows suit soon after and I give Eldevair a note from my pocket. He returns shortly with the change in his outstretched palm but instead of taking it, I close his palm around it, nodding an agreement to him. This is a personal tip, not to go in the shared tip jar. Eldevair pockets it with the subtle nod of his head before he turns away.
I lift my drink and turn to Mika only to find she’s disappeared. Leaning forward on my stool, I catch sight of a blonde head bobbing through the crowd. Confused at the sight, I bring my beer with me as I head towards the dance floor. There’s a two person table nearby and I perch on that as I observe Mika’s behaviour. The sight is something to behold because Mika has grabbed one of the Troll lads and is dancing awkwardly with him. She’s wasted, but he’s not. It’s like watching an evade and capture mission; Mika looks like she’s evading his hands and he looks like he’s desperately trying to hold onto a wet fish. That’s it. Mika’s a fish. Not a tigress.
After I’ve scoped out the area for any possible threats, I head back to the bar to make small talk with my “bestie”, Eldevair. I choose a stool at the end of the bar, closest to the door and make myself comfortable. With a beer and the songs blasting through the venue, I sit back and let myself bask in the atmosphere that the bar provides. I can see Eldevair absent-mindedly polishing glasses behind the bar. So being the good friend I am, I attempt to lighten the mood with some small talk.
“Hey Eldevair, great weather we’re having, right?” I look over at him and his eyebrow quirks. “You know, not much sun, a fair bit of rain…” He doesn’t reply, I’m not totally surprised.
“I can’t wait for the summer, think about all those tourists..” A snort escapes him. He hates the tourists as much as I do.
“Think of all those books I’m gonna sell...” Silence answers me. “You know why I like talking to you, Eldevair?” I slip my beer. “It’s because we have the most meaningful conversations.” He shakes his head, his hair coming out of his tie. I guess the glasses are more important than this conversation, so I leave him to it.
As I finish up my one-sided conversation with our friendly neighbourhood bartender, Mika appears like a wraith beside me, dehydrated and red-faced again. A drink appears before her, it looks like a vodka lemonade and another beer is placed in front of me. Money is exchanged and we go back to drinking our drinks like they’re going out of fashion.
“Hey Eldevair, can we have four shots of tequila?” Mika shouts over the noise of the bar.
My eyes are wider than saucers, verging on dinner-plate size. I choke on my beer as it goes down the wrong hole. Mika has ordered us four tequila shots by herself, without stammering, blushing or shying away. Her inhibitions must be low right now, but if partying and drinking gives her the confidence to find her own voice, then I’ll do it every night. Not to ruin her moment, I lean over and whisper in her ear “Tell him you want the lime and salt too.”
“And the lime and salt!”
Mika’s confidence is infectious. My shy, anxiety-ridden tigress is replaced with a confident, self-assured, happy queen of the pack. Four shot glasses, topped with wedges of limes are put in front of us, who has a small smile on his lips. He pulls the salt off of the back of the bar, and puts it beside the glasses, nodding at Mika before he leaves to serve someone else.
Before I can blink an eye, Mika’s lifting a shot to her lips. Yanking that shot from her hands earns me a shout of protest, but before I can think about it I lick her hand and sprinkle some salt on it. “Right Mika, here’s how we’re drinking the tequila shots.” I stare at her with an ‘I’m serious’ sense. My instructions come out sounding like I am a military drill sergeant. “First, clench your fist, hold your thumb upwards.” I reposition her hand. “Second, lick base of your thumb and sprinkle salt. Three, lick the salt, drink the shot and then stick the lime in between your teeth and bite down.” She nods quickly and I set myself up, ready for the horrid burn I’m about to experience.
“Ready? Three, two, one… Go!” The lick of a thumb, the shot of tequila, chased by a lime is followed by us slamming our shot glasses down on the bar upside down, our scrunched up faces fighting the sour burn that goes from the back of my throat down to my stomach where the fifty millimeters of devil piss reside. Knowing that I have to take another shot makes my insides lurch, but I take one for the team and go for it. Lining ourselves back up again, we’re halfway through the motions of taking the shot when I hear the bell on the door ring. There hasn’t been any new customers in a good hour or two and it’s getting late, so I’m surprised by the bell, but it doesn’t interrupt the flow of the tequila.
The shot glasses hit the bar at the same time again and Mika is looking a bit pale from the double shot, but as she looks up and past me, her eyes widen slightly before her hoodie is pulled over her hair. She’s turned to face Eldevair, who is removing the glasses without noise. I raise my eyebrows at her before turning around slightly to see who entered the Nest at this time of night and it turns out there’s a reason why Mika shied away.
“It’s nine o’clock on the dot
At the spot,
And I’m hanging with my friends again,
Great taste, beautiful place,
And you’re fashionably late, hey!”
Mika sure did pick some good songs. Shame that they’re coincidental. As they walk from the front door, two men are on a direct route to a booth not far from our stools. The oldest man looks like he’s in his thirties, but he’s built like a viking. From here, with my eyesight, I can see that he has emerald green eyes and his hair is dark and styled well. It’s ridiculous that he’s wearing a suit in this weather, especially as it looks expensive in all its finery. The other guy, he looks like he would be in to sports. He’s shorter than the viking. Just short of six foot if I had to guess, blonde hair sculpts his fac
e and his dark blue eyes cut through the bar with a sense of frat-boy-hilarity. This guy looks like he could tell a joke that could have you in stitches, break your heart within a matter of moments and leave before having to deal with the consequences.
It’s only when they walk past us to the vacant booth that I notice the smell. It’s that smoke and ash smell again. Which means I’ve officially come into contact with two of the other dragons. One looks like he would eat me alive for insulting his tribe. The other looks like he’d fuck me and dump me. Finn seemed like the lonely romantic back in the bookstore, but Mika said that there were four of them... so where’s the last one? I couldn’t concentrate on the shifty dragons right now, especially because their eyes were roaming the tavern like it was full of delinquents and criminals. Except the only odd ones out here are them and the whole pub knows it.
Mika isn’t looking so pale now. Her cheeks have some colour to them, and finally, her nose twitches, causing her to sneeze. I know she’s smelled the smoke and the ash thats coming from the two men that entered. She looks at me and her eyes widen a little, her lips move, mouths the words “is that them?”. I nod, and then shrug, demonstrating a universal “yeah, I think so”.
A shadow falls across the bar and I look up to see Eldevair, whose face is showing signs of concern rather than disdain. He’s noticed the two men in the booth and is concerned for the bar and it’s patrons, it seems. Wandering off for a moment, he returns with two beers and puts them on coasters, but before I can give him the cash, he wanders off. Maybe the payment isn’t the most important thing right now.
Stonehold isn’t an unwelcoming community. We welcome everyone who comes looking for a home, a place of safety, or a friend. In some odd sense, we’re a mismatched community full of ragtags and misfits, but we thrive on the security. A small thunder of dragons throws security to the wind, because we don’t form packs on hierarchy here. If I had to guess, I would say the one in the suit is the leader. Not only does he seem like the oldest, but he exudes strength, power and pride.
The other one, however? He looks similar to the young wolves that hang around the pool table on a friday night. Mika refers to them as the ‘lads’, someone who would win in a beer drinking competition and gloat about it afterwards. The blonde guy doesn’t look as high strung; a hell of a lot calmer, he’s probably just looking for a good time. They’re sat in the booth close together, but not too close to make it weird, deep in discussion. Probably talking about what they’re here for.
It feels odd. I know they’re not staring at me, but their presence is making me nervous. So much so, that drunk Mika intervenes with a genius, fool-proof plan to settle my anxiety. “Shall we dance?” She slurs. “You never worry about anything when you’re dancing.” Her black-clad body sways in her seat, though it’s more like a jerky motion. “You just feel the beat, and let go.”
One person can only be subjected to so much white girl dancing before they spontaneously combust. I am reaching spontaneous combustion. Being the amazing friend that I am, I pull Mika off of her seat and towards the back before she falls off of it and makes an arse of herself. When we walk onto the dance floor, the crowd parts slightly. I forget that all these supernaturals believe I’m a lowly human, but in the presence of these dragons, that’s probably a good thing.
All of her songs have ran out on the jukebox and I need Mika in her drunken element. I stand in front of the music machine and put a couple of credits on again, letting her unleash her musical wisdom upon the small world that is Stonehold. Mika’s music goes from chart music to alternative noughties emo. You know she’s found something good because she makes a little squeal noise. Even in her drunken haze, she’s still choosing good songs. When music is an outlet, you definitely pay attention.
I hear her little happy squeals, not to be confused with pig squeals, and I know that Mika is gonna continue the party through the night and into the morning. The fae and the elves are still on the improvised dance floor, but we’ve been joined by a few wolves over the night. A couple of vegetarian vampires, yes, it’s a thing,stand on the edges, talking to a few of the trolls who act like bouncers. As we edge ourselves in between the drunken revellers, we get smushed around in the crowd and I’m not proud to say that I am bumping and grinding more people than I want to right now.
“We can be wild, we can be free,
We can be anything in life we want to be,
We can move mountains, we can break walls,
We can stand tall enough to fight and never fall.
We can be legends after all.”
Mika and I have been drinking heavily all night, but I’m not drunk. It takes a hell of a lot more to do some damage. I’m at the slightly buzzed stage where I’m having a good time and I don’t care what I look like. The pub doesn’t have a club atmosphere. There’s wolves playing pool, vampires sitting in the booths, trolls behind the bar with Eldevair. It’s a community party. I know if I tell someone to back off, they will. A hip-bump here, a spin there. At some point we’re doing the two-step, and back to some bad rendition of the tango. Mika and I are having a blast. It’s only when I pull myself from the fray that I feel the after effects of the dancing. I’m exhausted.
Water is the best medicine after dancing. I need cold water to hydrate my soul. I don’t want to go and sit next to the newcomers, so I choose a seat at the other end of the bar. I have a clear view of the door, as well as the bathrooms, so Mika can’t leave without me. Not that she would, bless her heart. It must be late enough, because Eldevair is on the customer’s side of the bar with a drink. There’s a troll, who’s name I can’t remember behind the bar instead. I flag him down with my hand held in the air slightly and he comes over holding his dishrag in his hand, ready to wipe the bar at a moment’s notice.
“Hey.. I don’t know your name?” a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. For a troll, he’s actually good looking. Strong bouncer-like build, but his head isn’t shaved and he doesn’t have a face like a smacked arse.
“Name’s Matthias, but it’s alright if you forget it” he wipes the bar in front of me absentmindedly “I’m just a lowly bartender.”
I’m surprised by his admission, but his feelings are not uncommon here. Being the person I am, I give him a smile and a pat on his arm, causing his eyes raise slowly to meet mine. “I won’t forget your name, Matthias, as long as you don’t forget me and my bookshop, eh?” A smile passes between us, an understanding. “Could I have some water though?” I clear my throat for emphasis, “It gets hot when you’re dancing the night away.”
As Matthias nods and turns to get me my glass of water, the door opens again. This time, I notice it straight away because it’s directly in my line of sight.
If the first two men that walked in looked like the sons of Gods, then when Finn and this other guy walk in I think I’ve met the Gods themselves. Finn is a romantic. I saw it today in the bookstore. His hair is still fiery-red even in this dimly lit bar, and his eyes eagerly seek out the other two blokes that walked in earlier. Finn’s friend, however, looks a little out of place. Wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, he fits right in with the pub atmosphere, but his body language makes it look as if he’d rather be at home than be here. Honestly out of all four, he looks the youngest. Especially with glasses which really helps add to the nerd vibe. I bet he surrounds himself with computers and non-fiction books.
I take in his features a little better. He’s broad shouldered, and roughly the same height at Finn. Although their looks are polar opposites. The light brown hair is curled slightly at the top of his head, it rests just above his glasses. It’s then that I notice the colour of his eyes. To most, it would be a pretty shade of yellow; to supernaturals, his eyes are the exact colour of gold - always vibrant, always captivating. Flecks in his eyes glimmer in the light and remind me of sparkles.
I realise that I’ve seen those eyes before. King Draconis, current reigning ruler of the Dragon race has those exact same eyes, and they pass down th
e Draconis line. Which can only mean that this young dragon before me is the sole heir to the prestigious and feared royal line.
I’m sure this isn’t a meaningless mission about a false myth anymore. This is a search and recover mission. They could be looking for me or my hoard.
Their mission? Locate the ‘dragon’s gold’. My mission? Avoid the bloody dragons at all costs.
Thank god Matthias moves into my line of sight, blocking my view and providing me with water to quench my thirst; however, I need a little more than water after this realisation. “Hey Matthias? Could I get a beer, please?” Mika sidles up beside me and claims a chair. Before he turns away, I manage to catch him, “Make that two.” He smiles at Mika and walks to get our drinks.
Ever the pessimist, I declare that, even though my life may be coming to an end, the optimist in me is stating that at least my glass is full.
It seems as though the night is never ending, but I know it has been a couple of hours at most. Liquor-infused time interpretation always distorts what the sober eye sees. Ugh, now I sound like a modern philosopher. I’m not that intoxicated. I guess Mika’s more on the worse side than I am. Mika’s always on the worse side, now that I think about it, considering that Mika’s currently holding on to the bar like she’s stranded at sea and that’s a life preserver. Maybe she should slow down on th- Oh, alright never mind she’s off on the dancefloor again. For fuuuuuuuuck sake.
Matthias chooses that optimal moment to return with my now full pint. Smiling up at him, I decide to play the drunk female card and start interrogating him about himself, his life, yadda yadda yadda. The distraction is necessary.
“Matthias, when did you move here?” Considering I’ve never seen Matthias before, he must have moved to the area recently. Maybe I could have a new friend who knows me before they’re warned away with the ‘mysterious, weird woman’ rumours.
Matthias is stunned by the question, if his facial features have anything to go by. His eyes have widened a little bit and they’re focused on anything but me. Many people don’t like to announce they’ve moved to Stonehold; they just show up. He frowns a little before the corner of his mouth tips up in a smile.
