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Chapter 59: Hangover cure

  Even though Emma had been relatively gentle with Valar due to him being young and inexperienced with the plight of alcohol, she was not so gentle with everyone—especially a certain archer with golden eyes and a cataclysmic hangover.

  “If you throw up there, I’ll shove this broom up your ass until I can’t see a single bristle!” Emma shouted at Arthur, the man leaning against exactly the same wall as Valar just an hour or so ago. “You’ll go behind the inn like everyone else or start praying to whatever god you think will help you the most, because believe me, you’ll need them!“

  “Stop yelling…” Arthur croaked. “Please just stop yelling. I’ll go…”

  Valar followed the archer behind the inn and looked on as he retched on the pavement. The sight was eerily similar to what he had been doing just an hour ago. Luckily, he arrived after I managed to finish my bath and dress myself…. I’ll have to thank Emma once more for being so helpful. She didn’t have to, and still helped me a lot.

  “What are you standing there for?” Arthur groaned. “Don’t you see I’m being miserable here?”

  Valar raised his hand, the runes for Lesser Restoration already drawn upon his skin. “I’m waiting for you to stop throwing up so that I can heal you. I’m not coming nearer than this until you stop retching.”

  “Well…” Arthur vomited. “That’s good to hear. I’ll tell you when I sto-.”

  The archer vomited once more, a scene that was almost identical to the one Valar had been the star of just under an hour ago. Admittedly, Arthur seemed to be much more used to such torture, as he held his grin through all the suck.

  Eventually, after a long while, the retching stopped. Arthur wiped his mouth with his sleeve, turned to Valar and stared at him expectantly. “Please? This was enough suffering for one morning, I think…”

  Valar sighed, his annoyance with the golden haired man lessened by the fact that he had been in a similar situation himself just a short while ago, “Lesser Restoration.”

  Just like with himself, the effect was gradual, not immediate. During the couple minutes Valar healed Arthur, the man’s complexion, body language and eyes underwent a drastic transformation, and at the end he was smiling at Valar radiantly.

  “You have to do that more often!” he laughed. “I can drink way more like that!”

  “I’m not becoming your hangover cure,” Valar glared at the tanned man. “This was only because I was drunk too…”

  “Oh, you were drunk alright,” Arthur chuckled.

  “What? You saw?”

  “I was there for almost the whole night!” Arthur lifted one eyebrow and grinned. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember anything!”

  “I only remember drinking around three or four tankards,” Valar explained. “After that, my memory is just blank.”

  “Right…” Arthur nodded. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? I don’t think alcohol is a good idea for you…”

  “What, did I do something?” Valar asked in a panic. I don’t remember doing anything bad… Did I?

  “No… no, it’s not that,” Arthur scratched the back of his head. “It’s just that you were dancing on tables and…”

  As Arthur told Valar what had happened, the the boy's face turned more and more red from shame. He had apparently been quite the party animal, but at least he hadn’t harassed anyone; Instead he had just managed to shame himself in many, many ways.

  When Arthur finally stopped speaking, Valar had only one thing to say. It was something he had already said just an hour ago, but repetition was the mother of all learning… “I’m never drinking again!”

  Rodrick, who had spent his night at his parents’ house, was both surprised and quite displeased with his teammates—Carla in particular—when he arrived at the inn for an early morning meetup. His glare aimed at the young woman only intensified with each word Valar uttered.

  “-then I took the 4th tankard and danced with someone I didn’t recognize,” Valar explained. “Unfortunately, my memory ends there, so Carla or Arthur will have to recount anything after that!”

  “I’m actually more interested in the fact that Carla here allowed you to drink that much in the first place…” Rodrick said with a dangerously quiet tone. “Do explain, Carla.”

  “Well, we had a quite rough day, and-,” Carla muttered shyly.

  “Rough? How?” Rodrick grunted.

  “That’s not important,” the ice mage sighed. “But needless to say, I wanted something to drink after that. Valar just happened to be there…”

  “It was fun,” Arthur added. “A good release, I say! Shall we do it again today?”

  “NO!” a trio of voices responded in perfect concert. Valar because he was never going to drink again, Carla because she was way too tired to repeat the previous night and Rodrick because, well… He just didn’t approve.

  “We are leaving on an expedition tomorrow!” Rodrick snapped. “We are not leaving hungover!”

  “But Valar can cure-”

  “Valar, as team leader I’m forbidding you from curing the hangovers of these fools ever again!”

  I’m not drinking again anyway… This is good, right? “That’s fine by me,” he shrugged.

  Arthur’s eyes widened with seeming horror and he got up from his chair. The blonde archer bent down and grabbed Valar’s shoulders, his tone dead serious. “You have a great power, Valar. You can use it for good, curing our hangovers in perpetuity, or… you could use it for evil, aiding this brute in his fiendish endeavours.”

  The archer bent down even further, his lips only a hair’s breadth away from Valar’s ear, “I will give you money, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  6th day was spent in that fashion, with most of the team touring the city together. They had lunch at a spot that promised food in the northern Leorian style. Honestly, Valar couldn’t really tell what was different other than the food being a bit heartier, but Carla was mortified.

  “This is not northern Leorian food! The herbs are all wrong, there’s too little seasoning and I wouldn’t believe it if the cook told me that a single drop of ale had even come close to the dish! Cooking in ale is a hallmark of northern stews!”

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  “Calm down Carla,” Rodrick whispered. “People are looking…”

  “But this is a travesty, Rodrick!”

  “I know, I know. We believe in you, but I don’t want to cause an issue,” the dark haired warrior sighed. “It’s still plenty good, just not in the style you wanted, alright?”

  “Yeah…” Carla grumbled. “I can’t even believe I was looking forward to eating here…”

  The complaining and middling food in front of Valar’s face made him remember something way better. “I want the fried chicken from the Iron Owl… That was good.”

  He looked up when the table went silent. The three other adventurers were looking at him with eyes full of wanting and remembered joy. Rodrick was the first one to speak, his tone reverent. “That chicken… Divinity in motion.”

  “The fish…” Arthur mumbled. “It brought a tear to my face. Just like home…”

  “Just like home,” Carla smiled to herself, moisture entering the corner of her eyes. “That grond stew…”

  Needless to say, the team knew where they were going after the expedition. The aim was to go straight to Rhondell anyway; now there was a reward at the end of the tunnel too! They would of course need to convince Ciel, but based on the second place record she held in the restaurant for eating fried chicken, she wouldn’t be a tough nut to crack either.

  Even though the food was middling, the party left with smiles on their faces. The service worker who cleaned up after them wasn’t as giddy when he found only a single copper coin as a tip. The rude word he shouted after them didn’t hinder their smiles either, and they continued their tour of the city with smiles on their faces.

  The day passed just like that. Arthur restocked on arrows, Rodrick got his axe sharpened and the team’s mages just followed around, pointing out interesting book stores. None were interesting enough to shop at, as Rhondell was far superior in that regard, but spotting them in the busy city was fun enough.

  When afternoon turned to evening, the party returned to the inn. There, sitting alone at a table for five, was Ciel. Her raven black hair was disheveled, her light armor was all scratched up and she was grinning ear to ear.

  “Guess what I hunted,” she said to Rodrick with a wide grin.

  “What? I don’t know,” Rodrick shrugged. “A ravager or two?”

  “No, that would have been boring!” the rogue giggled. Did she just… giggle? “I hunted a forest troll!”

  “HUH?” the team leader yelled.

  “Here’s the proof,” Ciel grabbed something from behind her chair and tossed it on the table. “Didn’t sell this one yet so I could have something to show you.”

  The object the mage with eyes as dark as her magic had tossed on the table was a cream coloured tusk, almost half a meter in length. It was covered in droplets of already oxidized blood, but the stench of iron still pervaded the air around it.

  “But… how?” Rodrick muttered. “Did you even get a contract for it? Those should be team contracts, not solo ones, Ciel!

  “I…” Ciel mumbled something ineligible.

  “Could you repeat what you just said?” Rodrick asked with a deepening frown on his face. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “I… might have signed the contract under our team,” Ciel mumbled, her words still hard to decipher. “It’s done though, so no harm done!”

  Rodrick just looked at the woman, a tired look clear to see on his face.

  “What’s the issue with that?” Valar asked. “If I remember correctly, a forest troll is hard prey to hunt, but she succeeded, didn’t she?”

  “It’s not about this particular incident,” Rodrick sighed. “It’s just that if she failed, the fault would lay on all of us, not just Ciel.”

  “I wouldn’t have failed,” Ciel muttered.

  “Father, you were right,” Rodrick looked to the north. “I’ve been cursed with a team full of idiots!”

  Everyone other than Rodrick didn’t let Ciel’s little excursion bother their evening. Tomorrow they would be heading out toward danger once again, and the best thing they could do right now was relax. Everyone was prepared to set out anyway, so the best thing to do was eat well, go to bed early and sleep.

  They did just that, eating at the inn as its food was actually good compared to many others. The rogue that had bet against Rodrick had really done the team a service.

  “Can we always go to inns that are this good?” Arthur asked as he stuffed his face full of spiced grond. The grond were a species of horned beasts that usually inhabited the plains around the cities of central and western Leoria. They couldn’t be domesticated due to their overwhelming bulk and strength, but hunting them was quite easy. The whole herd didn’t usually react when a single beast was targeted, as the beasts fought between themselves to gain control of the herd. If adventurers took out one competitor, the simple beasts didn’t care.

  “No, we can’t,” Rodrick said flatly. “Unless we start earning significantly more, but I doubt that will happen before silver rank.”

  “I guess I’ll have to enjoy the soft bed while it lasts then,” Arthur said, playing the part of a coddled princess quite well. “Perhaps another team with greater funds will have me…”

  Carla burst out with laughter, Ciel joining in quickly. Even Valar chuckled, knowing how unlikely that would be. The young ice mage pointed at Arthur. “Take you? They’ll look at your antics for a day and kick you straight out!”

  “A misunderstood hero,” Arthur bemoaned. “Bullied by the cruel women on his team but saved by a princess—much more beautiful than his past tormentors. You see, she’s fallen in love with the archer and his heroic looks… They marry and live happily ever after…”

  “Can I hit him?” Ciel turned to Carla. “I really want to hit him.”

  Carla grabbed her chin and looked at the golden eyed man. She nodded to herself, looking like she was in deep thought. “Yes, hit him hard.”

  Valar looked on as Ciel positively pummeled the poor archer, but he had to admit he wasn’t quite sure who suffered more from the altercation. Sure, Arthur got hit a couple of times, but Ciel smashed her fist against the floor and stone supports of the inn many times during the half a minute of action. From his perspective, Arthur sat down with only a bruise or two while Ciel was holding her fist, swearing like a sailor. Arthur really is good at dodging… It didn’t even look like he was moving out of the way while Ciel just kept missing her punches over and over. I wouldn't want to fight either of them, though…

  Luckily for the boy, he didn’t have to. They were teammates, and he wasn’t idiotic enough to provoke the abyss demon of a woman anymore than was necessary. I’ll just mess with her when she messes with me… That’s fair, right?

  Safe to say, Carla enjoyed the scuffle of her teammates immensely. She cheered for Ciel, but Valar wasn’t that sure that she was actually on her side. Each time the rogue missed, Carla’s brown eyes tinkled with mirth. Smart woman… She gets to see Arthur pummeled and doesn’t need to do it herself either!

  Rodrick didn’t comment on the scuffle, just looking on with judging eyes as the others had their fun. He was clearly quite a bit more stressed than the others.

  “I’ll have to go to sleep now,” the big man said as he rose from the table. “Please don’t stay up for long, okay?”

  “We’ll do that,” Valar smiled up at Rodrick. “Tomorrow is an important day.”

  “That it is,” the warrior sighed. “Good night, everyone.”

  Everyone returned their well wishes as the team leader ascended the stairs to their rooms. They continued their evening for an hour or so, but eventually even Ciel yawned. “Should we go to sleep too? I doubt we’ll be getting good sleep during the expedition.”

  “Sounds good,” Carla nodded. “Have a good night.”

  “You too,” Valar said as he got up.

  “Yeah, good night!” Arthur followed.

  It was time to sleep.

  That night, Valar slept like a log. He was tormented by the same burning pains and nightmares as always, but while he never got truly used to them, they felt blessedly diminished in their intensity. It was a night of good, restful, sleep, occasionally plagued by a minute or so of wakefulness. But considering Valar’s usual quality of sleep, waking up four times during the night was a blessing.

  As he figured out the following morning, every team member’s fate hadn’t been the same. Carla was drinking her second cup of coffee—a site that frightened Valar to his core—Rodrick was grumbling to himself and sharpening his axe religiously and Arthur was even flightier than usual. Basically, only Ciel and he were alright.

  Still, duty called. The team ate a hearty breakfast, said their farewells to Emma who was manning the counter that morning, and left for the eastern district. The expedition would gather at the eastern gate, where they would be given their roles and positions in the group. Then, they would set out.

  Honestly, Valar was kind of excited about the prospect of an expedition deep to the Ronaheim forest. He didn’t particularly enjoy the fact that they were going to mainly fight other humans, but considering the damage the Crimson Talon had done to travelers and farmers alike, he couldn’t say that he regretted joining the effort.

  The part that excited him was the idea of a larger mission. He had now been on a few contracts, but they had been pretty cut and dry if he ignored the stampede. They hadn’t gone to a dungeon to cull mutated beasts or goblins like Valar imagined. It had just been pretty ordinary beast culling and caravan work, and the teenager had to admit to himself that he wanted more from the job.

  Others would probably say that he needed to wait until he reached bronze rank, that he was being reckless, but they just didn’t understand the drive. He wanted to become harder, better, faster and stronger, but most importantly, and perhaps foolishly…

  I want a reason. Valar’s mind churned. I want a reason to unleash those flames once more.

  I really want to burn something.

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