Jubilee doesn't return.

The sun rises, though it mostly obscured behind the heavy clouds, which still linger overhead and Fresh, not knowing what else to do, leaves the adventurers’ guild to go to the store. They have to open today, after all.

If the vampire was outside before, it’s gone now.

Her eyes are heavy and tired. She hasn’t slept a wink, but Fresh forces herself to keep going and as the sun rises up higher into the sky, she feels just a bit more awake with every ray of light that reaches her exhausted body. Her dry eyes watch the streets, which are slowly starting to fill up with the converging energy of a new day’s crowd, but there are no signs of a scuffle anywhere to be seen. There is nothing. She looks up at the store. There is nothing here either. The doors are fine. The windows are fine. Everything is fine.

Fresh opens it up and looks inside, seeing that the space looks as if nothing had ever happened. “Jubilee?” she calls out.

No response. Fresh heads upstairs. Save for some broken glass by her bedroom door, there is nothing out of place here either. The girl peers inside of her room.

Nothing. Her bag is gone. Her book and dagger are both gone. A rock drops in her gut. Did the church come here? The merchants’ guild? Did they confiscate it? Did something happen to Jubilee? The vampire just wanted her, right? It didn’t go after her friend once they left, did it?

Fresh doesn’t know.

*DHUNK* *DHUNK* *DHUNK*

She yelps, jumping at the sound and quickly runs downstairs, looking at the front-door. A few casters stand in front of it. Fresh clutches her face. It’s time for the store to open. What should she do? If Jubilee is missing, then she can’t just sit by and do nothing, but at the same time…

- No. Her friend is counting on her, wherever they are. Fresh narrows her eyes and grabs the handle of the front-door. She has to hold down the fort, even if she’s alone. “Good morning! Welcome!”

She lets in the swarm of casters, who make a straight line towards the freshly restocked soul-potions, exchanging some idle greetings with her and Fresh retreats behind the counter, her foot tapping nervously against the floor. If she was tired and exhausted before, those feelings have been washed away by a new surge of adrenaline.

“These are the kind Tae had,” says a wizard, pointing at the bottles.

“Huuuh? They really do glow!” says their partner. “I like the bottles,” they say, running a finger over the matte glass surface of a potion.

More people begin to enter the store. Not as many as yesterday, but still quite a few and they begin to scatter around. The more physical looking types, who accompany their casting party-members, mostly diverging off to either look at the daggers or at the chickens, while their companions ogle the potions.

The first of them make their way to the tired girl, standing behind the counter. She looks at their potions and begins calculating. “Fifty-seven Obols, please.” They place the coins down and Fresh takes them, thankful that Jubilee left a bunch of normal coins down in the bowl below for change.

Sold: 3 [Minor soul-potions](Normal)

for

[{57} Obols] !

They turn to walk away, just as a new man approaches with a dagger.

“See? I told you it isn’t haunted!” says a voice from the back of the store.

“That’s because it’s daytime, dummy. Besides, that was years ago,” replies someone else.

The voice from the back rings out again. “No! Jade says he heard it again last night!”

There is an audible sigh and two people leave through the door. The man standing before her, with the dagger, clears his throat and Fresh snaps back to attention. “Ah, sorry! Forty-nine Obols, please.”

Sold: 1 [BONE-DAGGER](Normal)

for

[{49} Obols] !

People come and go the entire time and Fresh does her best to keep up with them. There are certainly fewer people here than there were yesterday. But there are still plenty enough for her, especially all by herself. During an idle minute, Fresh supposes that Jubilee had a point; since most of the casters had bought multiple potions yesterday, they would probably wait a few days before coming back again to get more.

Something heavy thunks down onto the counter. Fresh picks up the heavy shield, barely lifting it up off of the wood. This is one of Jubilee’s procured items from the dungeon. The girl tilts her head. She has no idea what this is supposed to cost.

“Uh… forty Obols, please?” she guesses. Thankfully, the man seems rather indifferent and slaps a few coins onto the counter, taking the heavy shield out of her hands like it was nothing at all and walks to collect a priest who came inside with him. The priest is still staring at the wall of glowing potions.

Sold: 1 [Steel Shield](Normal)

for

[{40} Obols] !

[Mercantile: 3]

A tall, gray-skinned giant of an elfish woman comes inside, carrying a load of blue-mushroom-caps in front of herself and Fresh waves to her, recognizing her from yesterday. “Working hard, I see?” she asks the elf.

“You know it! Here you go," says the woman proudly.

She drops the stack of caps down next to the counter and Fresh counts them. “Nine.” She looks back to the elf, noticing that they carried them all without a bag. “Wow, you must be really strong!”

Perhaps this remark is only true in comparison with Fresh’s own body, but the gray-skinned elf takes the compliment, taking a moment to smirk a sharkish smile and flex her bicep with an audible grunt. Laughing, Fresh hands out the coins to her, sliding them over the counter. “Here you are, fifty-four Obols.”

Bought: 9 [Mushroom Caps](Blue)

for

[{54} Obols] !

“Thanks, see you tomorrow!” says the fighter, who Fresh has figured out is a dark-elf of some kind. Though, that was perhaps obvious given her appearance. Is there any real difference between elves and humans and dark-elves and… whatever else there is? She isn’t sure. She wants to ask, but at the same time… it seems like a rude thing to ask? So she just drops it.

Time flies and soon enough it feels to be about noon. The store is mostly empty now and Fresh flops forward, planting her face down onto the counter, her arms dangling limply over the front end.

“Jubileee~” whines Fresh beneath her exhausted breath, having now a second more to worry about her friend.

She has the store under control and they’re making good money. More than once, she considered shutting the doors early for the day to go walk around and look for her party-member. But where would she even go? The church? What if they wanted to see her menu? No. Fresh sighs and clenches her fists. She has to stay here, to keep things running for when Jubilee comes back. Her eyes feel heavy, her head feels heavy, her heart feels heavy. Fresh yawns, feeling her body sag just a little from the weight of all of those things combined.

“Rough night?” asks a voice from before her. Fresh jumps up with a frightened yelp, flailing with her arms as she stands back upright. The girl looks at the dusty-blonde haired elf standing in front of her, her face heavily scarred as if by old burns.

In shock, Fresh slaps her palms down onto the counter, leaning in wide-eyed towards the barkeeper from the adventurers’ guild. “YOU CAN TALK?!” she shouts.

Fidgeting somewhat uncomfortably and taking a step back, the elf tilts her head, a strand of hair from her bangs falling down past her face. “Yeah?” Turning her head away somewhat nervously, the woman rubs the back of her neck and places a bottle down on the counter. Fresh stares at it for a second, before realizing it's one of her own potions.

“Ah! Uh… that’s nineteen Obols please.” She scratches her cheek. “Sorry. I was just surprised to see you here.”

The woman shakes her head, placing the coins down to pay for the potion. “It’s okay. I get that sometimes. I only work a few days a week in the guild. The rest of it is me-time.”

Sold: 1 [Minor soul-potions](Normal)

for

[{19} Obols] !

Fresh sighs. “That must be nice…” The girl’s eyes perk up. “Ah, wait. About last night-“

The elf quickly raises a hand, gesturing for her to be quiet. Looking around to make sure the store is empty, she nods to Fresh, taking her potion as she turns to go. “It’s taken care of.”

The girl stares vacantly as the barkeeper leaves out through the door. ‘It’s taken care of’? What kind of a vague, nebulous sentence is that? What is taken care of? Where’s Jubilee? Fresh flops back down to the counter, planting her head against a coin and doing her best not to cry. That would make for terrible optics for the store.

The sound of a pair of boots comes in, walking towards the shelf and then up to her. Fresh raises her head again, her sleepy eyes looking at the figure. The girl perks back upright, tilting her head in curiosity. “Back for more already?” she asks with a smile, looking at the red-wizard, who had bought five potions just yesterday, the one who had gotten her free sample at the fountain. Fresh laughs nervously. “You didn’t drink all five of them, did you…?”

“Yeah! They’re really good!” says the wizard, leaning in with excitement. Fresh wants to share her energy, but is just too tired today and looks at the blue bottles on the counter and then looks back up the sparkling eyes of the caster.

“How’s the dungeon coming along?”

“Really great! I’m already down to floor ten by myself!” she proclaims, putting down another large, silver Obol. Fresh gives her five small ones back as change. Fresh wonders about something, thinking for a moment.

Sold: 5 [Minor soul-potions](Normal)

for

[{95} Obols] !

“Alone? Don’t you have a party? You can find one at the adventurers’ guild.”

Grabbing their potions, the red-wizard smiles back, laughing. “No, thanks! You’d have to be a real dope to sign up for that package. The dungeon’s free, after all!”

Fresh laughs meekly, waving goodbye as she heads out of the door. Taking a moment, Fresh runs upstairs to grab some bread for herself and some new potions for the shelf. Another hour passes and rain starts to fall again outside as she sits behind the counter, twiddling her thumbs. Eventually, the pace picks up again, as several people come inside to get away from the rain and begin perusing their wares to pass the time.

“I want a chicken!” says a giant of a man. Fresh tilts her head, realizing that the man is an orc. Do orcs just… kind of like chickens?

“You can’t have a chicken,” says an annoyed, human priestess standing next to him, not even half of his size. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair is wet from the rain and sticks to the inside of her white hood.

The giant, like a child begging for a toy, clasps his hands together. “Pleeease?!”

Staring at him, dumbstruck, the priestess purses her lips, crossing her arms and looks away. “No. We need the money for the potion. We don’t have enough for both.”

“Pleeease?!” continues the giant, grabbing her shoulders and begging. Fresh isn’t sure, but she feels like the towering man is about to cry.

Agitated, the priestess lets her head fall back and groans loudly for emphasis. “FINE! We’ll get you a chicken.”

Fresh does her best not to laugh, the priestess seems fairly irritated. Walking up to the counter, the orc clutches a glass-chicken close to his chest, his face beaming with a smile that’s filled with absolute child-like wonderment and joy. The priestess, in contrast, digs through a very empty sounding satchel on her waist and pulls out a few coins.

“One…” Her eyebrow twitches. “One chicken, please,” she says, almost hissing out the words like a deflating balloon, as she places the coins down onto the counter. Fresh looks up at the orc who is spinning around in delight. His behavior is in stark contrast to his frightening, rough, battle-scarred exterior. She wonders if this is how she and Jubilee look together?

Fresh tilts her head and takes the coins.

Sold: 1 [Glass Chicken](Normal)

for

[{30} Obols] !

“Thank you! Come again,” says Fresh. The orc holds his prize out proudly before himself as he turns to leave. Fresh rubs her arm. “Ah, wait!” The two of them stop. Bending down, she reaches beneath the counter and pulls out one of her minor soul-potions. “Here.” She hands it out to the priestess. “On the house,” says Fresh with a smile.

The priestess takes it from her, looking at her curiously. “…Thank you.”

“Come back soon!” says Fresh waving goodbye to the two of them as they leave.

Several more hours would pass and soon enough, evening falls as the sun vanishes once again. Once the last customer is gone, Fresh closes the door and leans her head against it. She is beyond exhausted and drained.

“I did it,” she sighs in exerted relief, sliding down to the floor with her back against the front door. What should she do now? It’s getting dark. She has to get the store ready for tomorrow. But… is the vampire still alive? The barkeeper had said ‘it’ was taken care of. Does that mean she’s safe here now, in the dark? Or should she go back to the cut-off space in the guild? Fresh rolls her head left and right, rubbing it against the wood of the door as she thinks.

She is pressed forward as the door opens.

“Ah- we’re clo-!“ she looks back at the small, wooden mask staring at her. Jubilee nudges the door further, signaling for her to get out of the way. “JUBILEEE~” Fresh falls down and howls, grabbing Jubilee, who snarls in protest at being touched.