by Eric Vall
From the looks of the place, Layla, Braden, and I were late to the party. Cheerful music filled the air from the band perched in the back. There were no tables available, and already the small area in front of the stage set up for the musicians was packed with dancing drunk students. Layla dragged us to the bar, which thankfully had three stools available.
We each ordered a flagon of beer and a serving of fried potato skins topped with cheese and spices. We indulged in the food and drink, with Layla more eager than I’d anticipated. She chugged half her flagon before the food even arrived. Braden barely drank his, while I downed mine at a steady clip. Drinking wasn’t a sprint, it was a marathon that I intended to win.
After another swig of her beer, Layla slammed down her beer and belched. “This swill tastes like piss.”
Braden arched an eyebrow and smiled wide. “Then I guess you like drinking piss, because you’re downing it like a champion.”
She patted her chest and belched again. “It gets the job done.”
I laughed and took a sip. “Anything can get the job done if you drink it like that.”
“True enough,” Layla said with a shrug, “but it still tastes like piss.”
I finished chewing a couple of the potato skins. They were crunchy and crisp, and the cheese hot and gooey. Delicious. Then I grabbed my flagon. “This is nothing. There are inns along the roads in the wilds that serve beer that may as well be water. And then there are others that, I shit you not, might actually be piss. I had one that was too warm and smelled rancid. Maybe I got duped.”
Braden and Layla both laughed at that last statement. “Oh Maker, I pray that you actually drank piss,” Layla said with another sip of her drink.
“Of course you would, Bethel,” I replied with a playful glare.
The music changed in pitch and transitioned into a louder, more jovial tune. The other students cheered and started to stamp their feet and clap while singing along. Braden and Layla joined in, their smiles wide as they raised their drinks. I raised mine too, though I didn’t know the song. I had frequented inns and taverns around the wilds and heard hundreds of songs, but this one was foreign to me. Must have been an Enclaver song. It was a joy to listen to though. It was a song about friendship, companions, fond memories, and a long life lived to fulfillment. I could see why everyone loved it.
When it ended in cheers and smiles, the music turned to a slower song. My friends and I turned back to the bar. Layla ordered another beer while Braden and I had our fill of the potato skins and finished them with a smile on our faces.
The moment Layla was given more alcohol, she chugged about half of it. “This is great. Reminds me of home. This is exactly what we do for holidays.”
“I think this is what most people do for celebrations, Bethel,” Braden remarked with a smirk.
She shrugged. “Maybe, but we get nasty in the slums. Too much shit alcohol. Fights are usually common.” She trailed off and stared at nothing, her mind adrift. Her gaze was whimsical, with just a hint of sadness and longing. “The Maker’s Gifts festivities are one of the few times of the year where my family can get together and not be complete asses.” She looked down and frowned. “This will be my first year missing it.”
I clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty more opportunities in the future. Besides, you have us.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, what fun you are.”
Braden and I laughed.
I finished my drink and ordered another. Braden was well behind in drinking, but started to up his pace to keep up with us. He wiped his lips on his sleeve. “I miss my family too. For the festivities, we’d usually have a huge dinner with all our neighbors and then go outside and dance all night.” He paused and let a coy smile play up his features. “Though there’s usually less alcohol involved.”
Layla snorted. “Boring.”
I nudged her with a smile. “You don’t need alcohol to have fun all the time.”
“Well, it certainly helps.” She took another sip, then swiveled in her seat to face me fully. “What about you, Gryffy? What do you do for the festivities?”
I swirled my beer around the flagon. “Well, it varies. The Maker’s Gift festival isn’t as widely celebrated out there as it is in the Enclaves, so it really depends on where I was at on that night. My favorite thing to do is have some wine and sit out under the night sky and watch the fireworks. That’s how we do it. Large and beautiful firework displays. Magic in the sky. Like something from a dream.”
Layla sighed whimsically. “That does sound nice. We don’t do fireworks here, but now that you say that, I wish we did.”
“Yeah,” Braden chimed in agreement.
I took a long swig of my beer and stifled a burp. “Though I also enjoy getting piss drunk and having a girl on my lap all night for festivities. So that or fireworks, both are enjoyable. That’s how I do it.” I gave Layla a sly grin. “Maybe you can be that girl tonight.”
Layla rolled her eyes and laughed. “Maybe when I’ve had a few more flagons.”
I raised my drink to that.
As we drank, the door to the inn slammed open, and in walked none other than Gawain and his minions, who all seemed to still be at his beck and call despite our pranking antics the night before. He sneered as he looked around the room and realized that there were no seats. The crowd parted for him and his own as he made his way to the bar several seats down from us.
Gawain’s hair looked more golden tonight and was tied back as usual. He wore a fine coat and a lot of jewelry, a far cry from the casual nature of this place. I was surprised that he was even here. Was this place not beneath him? Were there not better, cleaner establishments that he could bring his stench and attitude to?
I would have rather him not be here, but as long as he didn’t try to annoy me and my friends, I could tolerate his presence.
The commotion of his arrival soon faded into music and fun, and that’s how it stayed for the next hour or two. We bought more and more drinks until the whole place was packed with dancing bodies. You could hardly hear a thing over the music, or the drunken cheers and singing. Braden found a girl half his size and danced with her. She was cute, with short red hair and rosy cheeks that were a tad plump, but rather endearing. He gave me a smile when he caught my eye, and I raised my drink to him.
Seeing him dance made Layla grab both my hands in hers and haul me off the stool. “Dance with me,” she said with a smile so beautiful that it made my heart lurch. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe I hadn’t paid enough attention before, but now I could see that she was absolutely stunning. She glowed with joy, her body radiated with it. Her smile lit the room and her eyes enveloped me in their warmth.
She pulled me into the swirling mass of students. Her hands wrapped around my neck and mine went around her waist. The song was a slow one that grew in tempo as it went on. There wasn’t much room to move around, but we were content to just hold each other close like this.
We stared for a long time at each other. Layla’s cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, and I could feel mine were the same. Her eyes looked into mine with longing and hunger. She wound her slender fingers through my hair and pulled my head down so that she could whisper into my ear.
“I think I could be that girl that sits on your lap now,” she said, her words so soft they tickled my ear as her lips brushed it.
I gave her a wide grin. “So you’ve drunk enough for that, eh?”
Her lips pursed as she shook her head. “No, I just want to.”
She grabbed my face then and pressed her lips against mine.
I lost all sense of what was going on around me. All I knew was Layla, her smell, her taste, and the feel of her fingers against my skin and through my hair. My hand traveled the length of her back and traced the contours of it. Her lips tasted like honey, matching the amber gold lipstick she wore. It was intoxicating, and I wanted more.
We broke apart as the song came to an end, and we b
oth breathed heavily. She smiled brightly at me, and I returned the smile.
“That was nice,” I said.
“Yeah, we should have been doing this from the beginning,” she in a voice that sounded like a dreamy sigh.
Just then, the next song began, and this one was very upbeat. The room erupted as everyone joined the dancing. There was no space for it, yet we all found a way to twirl each other around, dip and duck as everyone danced with a partner or two, or three, or four. It was chaos, beautiful chaos. Warmth spread throughout my whole body, and I knew that was partly from the alcohol, but also from the sheer fun I was having.
Everyone smiled, everyone was drunk, and everyone was having a night to remember. That was until I bumped into Gawain and spilled his drink.
He was already drunk out of his mind, which meant he was either a poor drinker, or a fast one, but either way, he was an angry and violent drunk. He snarled and pushed me hard as he yelled, “Stupid summoner!”
I tumbled to the floor, and he was on me before I could react, but he was drunk and sloppy, and his grip wasn’t sure. I threw him off of me as the crowd parted around us. He came at me again and swung, but I ducked and slammed a fist into his stomach. He collapsed in a cough but recovered faster than I expected. Before I knew it, he punched and connected with my jaw. I saw stars as I whirled around, although the alcohol lessened the pain.
We both staggered back away from each other and took a moment to catch our bearings, but only a moment. Without another word, he charged me, and I charged him. I ducked his punch and tackled him around the waist. My attack drove him back and crashed him down onto a table, and it exploded in splinters.
A loud ooh went through the crowd.
Before he could recover, I punched him hard, my fist landing between his nose and mouth. That hurt my hand, but I was too pumped on adrenaline and alcohol to care. As I reared back to hit him again, one of Gawain’s minions jerked me off his leader. I stumbled to my feet as the guy reared back to hit me, but before he could, Layla kicked him where it hurts the most. He collapsed, his face red with pain. The other two came at us, but then Braden stepped in the way and pushed their faces away roughly with his big meaty hands. They flailed back and clattered to the floor in a heap.
“Why don’t you take your smelly prince here and get the fuck out of here?” I said with a sneer.
They listened, thankfully. They collected Gawain’s unconscious body and slunk out of the tavern with their tails between their legs. All was silent for a split second after the door slammed shut before Layla raised her drink and roared, which prompted every other soul present to lend their voices to the cheer.
The night was still young, the celebration had only just begun, and already I felt on top of the world.
***
The revelry lasted long into the early morning. Slowly but surely, all the students began to crawl back home to sleep off their drunkenness in preparation for class that morning. I saw Braden slip away with the girl he’d danced with. Good for him.
As for Layla and I, we were some of the last to leave.
We opted for walking back instead of taking a carriage, so we could sober up a bit. Also, we were out of money.
The walk back wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, though we both stumbled more than our fair share of times. We got back to the dorms in one piece, but we didn’t stop there, as Layla pulled me past them and toward the bathhouse. I couldn’t understand why until the reason dawned on me like the punchline of a good joke that you didn’t get at first. I smiled wide.
It was well past midnight, and the baths were supposedly locked, but that didn’t stop Layla from picking the lock. It took her a bit longer than usual, due to her alcohol-addled mind, but she got it done. The lock clicked open and she threw open the large doors. Well, really, she struggled to push them open without my help, but it was the same effect.
The lighting was lower now that it was dark, the oil lamps turned down to their lowest output. But we didn’t have any trouble seeing. Layla took my hand and led me down the hall to the men’s baths. We pushed through the curtains in a rush. The room was still steamy and darker than usual. The gas lamps weren’t turned down too much, so the same green glow hung over the mist.
Layla practically dragged me as far in as we could go, to a small pool in the back surrounded on three sides by walls. I wasn’t worried about getting caught, but I guess it didn’t hurt to be careful. Once there, she got on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine while her hands fumbled at my belt and tried to work the buckle.
She smiled through her kiss. “Maybe I’m really drunk, but your belt is impossible.”
I kissed her long and hard. “It’s the belt,” I smirked.
We broke off our kiss and stepped apart to undress. As I undid my belt buckle, much easier than she did, Layla threw off her coat and undid the buttons of her gown in quick succession. With a dramatic flourish, it fell away from her. In seconds, we were both out of our undergarments and stood before each other, admiring the view.
She had more curves than her lithe frame would suggest, which was fine by me. She was gorgeous, her skin golden in the light and glistening from the steam. Her breasts were small, but perfectly proportioned to her body. I couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful she was.
Her eyes traveled the length of my body, her eyes narrow and her smile coy. “If this were the first time I’d seen you naked, I’d say I’m impressed.”
I guffawed. “So you have seen me from the roof!”
She smirked and shrugged. “Guilty.”
Before I could say any more, she shoved me hard into the bath. I flailed and tried to keep my balance, but I couldn’t. I fell back with a loud splash and went under. The water was warm still, though not as hot as it usually was. I came back up and splashed at her as we both laughed, the sound echoing off the walls.
“You could have told me to get in,” I said.
“But that wouldn’t have been fun.”
I leaned back against the edge of the pool and Layla came over to me and straddled my waist. We wound our fingers through each other’s hair, our kiss hungry and violent. She ground against me, her breath ragged, a low moan coming with it. I kissed her along her jaw, and neck, then her collarbone and down to her breast.
Her moans became louder and more desperate. She pulled back slightly, so she could adjust as I slid inside of her.
Through her pleasure, she sighed and said. “Let’s make this our new Maker’s Gift tradition.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Then she was riding me. We dissolved into a storm of pleasure and ecstasy that I never wanted to end.
Chapter 16
Most of the students were hungover the next day when we arrived in Arwyn’s class. I knew immediately that it was going to be a long day. Arwyn never showed up though. We had another teacher come in, a small middle-aged woman with round cheeks and a soft smile in grey robes.
“I’m afraid Miss Hamner is away dealing with a monster threat, so I’ll help you go over what you learned last class, as well as prepare you for your discussion next class with Miss Hamner.” She spoke with a high lilting voice that radiated with positivity.
And that was that. We talked about monster grades again —the higher the grade, the stronger the monster, but each individual monster could have various degrees of power, so that not all monsters of a type should be treated equally. She was still dismissive of weaker, grade E monsters like my own, but I knew how strong they could be under proper direction.
There was all that, as well as a few bits about rifts and banishers, but not anything that we didn’t already know. It was mostly just to refresh us after a long weekend. I could hardly focus though, as my worry for Arwyn ate at me. I wasn’t sure who was on her response squad, nor did I know what kind of threat the rift she went to help close posed. Maybe she would be fine, but maybe I would never see her again. I knew that was a common part of life for mages and the military, but th
at didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
We were all given an hour study period before lunch. There was a general commons area in the south wing of the main building that was mostly used to study and just relax if students had downtime, so that’s where my friends and I went. It was a very cozy place. There were large windows that let the light flood in, and large gilded chandeliers with large round gas bulbs that painted the room in an eerie yellow light at night. Clusters of recliners, sofas, and chairs were scattered about, centered around wide tables.
Braden and I both sat quietly and read, his book being the summoner textbook that I found useless, while I read one of the books Arwyn had picked out for me, Dynamics of the Power of Monsters, a very fascinating read that detailed the powers and weaknesses of almost every monster on record. It was something that I actually cared to learn about.
The room was silent save for the hushed whispers of our fellow students. My eyes drifted from words on the page to where Nia sat against the wall beneath one of the windows. I could hardly see her over the glare of the sun’s rays as they streamed in, but I could see her head bent in concentration as she wrote something down. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she bit her lower lip. Whatever she was working on, she was very much into it.
My eyes drifted to Layla next to me, who lounged in her recliner, her legs bent over the arm of it. They kicked back and forth while she calmly whittled away at a square of wood. The shavings collected under her and covered the chair.
“Must you do that now?” I asked, my eyes back to my book.
“Now’s as good a time as any,” she replied. “Besides, maybe I’m making you a gift.” I could hear the smile in her voice.
I rolled my eyes. “Thank you so much, Layla.”
She tossed a few of the shavings at me. “Don’t be cheeky, you bastard.”
“You like it,” I retorted. We both smiled wide at that.
The period went by in silence with everyone hard at work, or at least I assumed everyone was. That’s what this time was for at least, but what did I care if some of these snobs shirked their studies? It made no difference to me. I would excel regardless. So I continued to read, but my concentration was broken by the soft patter of boots on the thick red carpeting. As they approached me, I looked up from my book and found Mr. Brevens.
