They close the shop early, putting up a sign. After having searched through the bins, Fresh now looks upstairs, crawling on her stomach as she scours the floor of the pantry. Jubilee comes in, having locked up below.

“Anything?”

“No,” says Fresh meekly, crawling forward to look beneath the next shelf. Her panic is now quietened, but her fear of reprimand from Jubilee is still strong in her heart. They hadn’t spoken about it downstairs. “I’m sure I put it right here though,” she turns around pointing to the hole.

“Why?!” snaps Jubilee.

Fresh looks up. “I didn’t want you to get mad!”

“WELL I’M MAD NOW!” barks Jubilee, leaning in towards her. “If you didn’t want me to get mad, you shouldn’t have done something so stupid!”

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to try out my ability,” explains Fresh.

“I told you not to!” Jubilee lowers their voice, turning around and grasping their hood in frustration. “You’re such a child!” They whip back around. “What did it do!?”

“Huh?”

“The curse!” they hiss at her.

Fresh tries to remember. “Uh, I think it said something about… disastrous luck?”

“Fuck me, if that got into the bin and we sold it, we might just be royally fucked!”

“But I put it here! I’m sure!” Fresh grabs the floorboard, straining herself to pull it free. The wood cracks as she pulls on it, lifting the morose, old floorboard up. “We couldn’t have sold it!”

“Well if it’s not here and it’s not downstairs, where else would it be? Once somebody finds out that it’s cursed, they’ll trace it straight back to us. We’re the only store in town selling those weird necklaces!” asks Jubilee, looking over Fresh’s shoulder into the small space beneath the wood, where nothing lays except some dust and old, dried out, clay-coated straw that is used for insulation.

Fresh thinks for a moment. “Nobody will know.”

“Huh?”

The girl raises her dust-smeared head, looking back up to Jubilee. “Nobody can see the curse except for me.”

Jubilee crosses their arms and shakes their head. “I can see curses too, remember? You know how lucky you are that this town is so far away from the south-east? People here don’t have the eyes for this kind of stuff.” They sigh, relenting. “Maybe we’ll get away with it… But you know, even if we do?” They shrug, keeping their arms crossed. “You may have just killed someone,” says Jubilee. “I don’t know what qualifies as ‘disastrous’ luck, but I wouldn’t want to wear that thing down into the dungeon.”

Fresh’s eyes go wide at this realization. She pulls the board back further out and digs through the mess below, hoping that it’s here somewhere.

Hours pass and she’s scoured every inch of the pantry a dozen times over. It’s nowhere to be found. Jubilee has long since left, saying they needed to get some fresh air to calm down. Fresh falls down against the wall, defeated and covered in grime.

Soon enough, after a very uneasy night, the next day comes. They earned noticeably less money yesterday, because of their having to close early, to which Jubilee doesn’t even speak, not bothering to show her the ledger. The silence somehow makes Fresh feel worse than if her friend would just yell at her. She awkwardly just stands there, downstairs, as it is still too early in the morning to open up. She wants to ask Jubilee if they want to eat breakfast together, but she feels like they’ll say no. So she doesn’t ask and simply stands there quietly, afraid of getting yelled at again.

A series of loud noises comes from outside, breaking the heavy silence filling the air and they both look towards the window, to the cart parked outside.

“Ah, fuck. I guess it’s about that time,” says Jubilee. “Go upstairs, start bringing the soul-potions down. We have our first delivery for the church.”

Fresh nods, setting to work without any arguments. As she comes back downstairs, carrying the first box of potions, she smiles as she sees the familiar figure. “Hi, Basil!”

Basil looks back up to her, her face is very haggard and tired looking and she nods with a weak smile. “Good morning. I’m here to pick up the potions.”

Fresh nods back, happy to see the priestess, who apparently has a lot of work as always. Her eyes seem very exhausted though and she has deep bags under them. “Mm!” She tilts her head. “Have you eaten? You look a little worn out.” Jubilee elbows her in the side. Fresh opens her eyes, “Ah, sorry!” Setting the box down, she rubs the back of her head. “I guess I was being rude, this time.”

Basil doesn’t say anything, but then just shakes her head. “It’s okay. It’s been a rough few days.” She looks at the potions. “Should I help you carry the rest of them downstairs?”

“That won’t be necessary,” says Jubilee, glaring at Fresh. “She can do it by herself.” A second elbow nudges her and she squeaks, rubbing the sore-spot as she runs upstairs to get another box. Jubilee is being mean to her, but at least they’re speaking to her. Or… about her, at least, which is close to the same thing.

Running up and down the stairs a few times, breaking a sweat this early in the morning, Fresh brings several of the boxes from the pantry and then watches as Basil counts through them. Nodding, satisfied, the priestess gives Jubilee a single silver coin. “Thank you for your contribution,” she looks at Jubilee and then to Fresh. “The cardinal sends his regards,” says Basil. “He is most pleased with your work and thanks you for being outstanding members of the community,” she says as if reciting some well rehearsed text.

“We’re just doing what we can,” replies Jubilee rather dryly.

Fresh nods, smiling a feigned smile as she tilts her head and tells a half-lie. “We’re glad to help!” She feels bad about lying to Basil, even if she was snooping around, but it’s just what they have to do. But apparently their ploy to win the church over is working beautifully and Fresh can’t help but feel a little pride at that.

She also can’t help but feel a little pride at the scheme brewing in her heart as she helps the woman load the boxes into the back of the cart, pulled by a rather odd looking creature tethered to the front. A white-feathered, long-necked bipedal bird. With a colorful plume of vibrant feathers hanging loosely from its back, drooping down as a tail. She can’t help but notice that it is staring at her with a rather venomous gaze.

Then again, she’s never seen one before. So maybe they just look like that?

“Never seen an anqa before?” asks Basil as she loads the first box into the cart, taking the next one from Fresh.

Fresh shakes her head, staring with some awe at the beautiful plumage of the regal creature. “No, not really.”

Basil smiles, this time sincerely, walking around to pat the large horse-sized bird. “They’re from the east. They’re strong, quiet things. They make good company, you know?” Her eyes glow a little as she strokes its giant feathers and the bird coos in response, lowering its neck. Fresh can’t help but feel like its watching her though, never closing its large eyes that seem to focus on her with some deep suspicion. Meekly, she raises a hand to wave to it, not daring to approach the giant animal.

*KYIAH!* screeches the bird, extending its beak out towards her and the girl jumps back as it snaps at her.

“IAH!”

“Woah! Easy there!” Basil grabs the creature’s head, apparently not fazed in the least that its beak is the size of her own face and pushes it back away. “I’m sorry, he’s usually very nice.”

Fresh laughs meekly. “It’s okay… uh… I’ll get the next box.” Somewhat nervously, she hustles inside and Basil comes in after her. This is her chance, thinks Fresh as she looks towards Jubilee who is standing by the counter. “Basil? Jubilee and I were just about to have breakfast," she lies. "Would you like to join us?”

Jubilee narrows their eyes and Fresh smiles a victorious smile, taking a moment to subtly stick the tip of her tongue out at Jubilee, who can’t deny her wish now, if only for fear of looking bad in front of the priestess.

Basil seems to think for a moment. “I’d feel bad. I don’t want to impose any more than I already have. I still owe you two a lot of money as it is.”

“It’s okay,” says Fresh, picking up the next box. “It’s nothing exciting, just some bread and some dried stuff. We have more than enough to spare,” she explains. The priestess looks around uncertainly, her eyes wandering over to Jubilee who straightens up, clearing their throat. Fresh isn’t sure if Basil notices, but she sees her friend’s narrowed eyes twitch just a little as they focus on her.

“We insist,” says Jubilee, lying now as well, if only to play along. Seemingly convinced however, Basil nods and agrees.

Once they finish and Fresh explains their ritual to the rather confused priestess, they sit down on the floor together with Fresh on one side of the counter and Jubilee on the other. Basil doesn’t even question it, perhaps simply out of good manners or for fear of being rude.

As they eat and discuss the minor happenings in the world over their not exciting, but at the very least nourishing, food, Fresh can’t help but notice the eye of the large bird, staring in through the window the entire time. It is focused on her and her every movement.

Basil sighs as she sees the large avian face pressed against the glass of the window. “I’m sorry, he’s been very protective lately, he’s usually very well behaved.”

Fresh fidgets uncomfortably, as the bird narrows its eyes, watching her with hawkish intensity. Soon enough, they finish their meal and their conversation. Basil thanks them for their hospitality and returns to the cart, driving the thing off down the main road, back towards the church.

“Bye, Basil!” cries Fresh after them, waving to the tired figure who waves back.

The girl returns back inside, the anxiety of the lost necklace almost entirely suppressed by the warm feeling of having a good morning and a nice breakfast with a just as nice conversation. She closes the door, looking back at Jubilee who is leaning back against the counter, their arms crossed as they watch her very carefully, as if they are suspicious of her themselves now.

“You know -”

“Huh?” asks Fresh, looking over to the figure who has their hand on the chin of their mask.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re just faking the whole ‘dumb and innocent thing’ as a cover. But then I remember what your stats are and even you can’t fake that.”

“…Huh?” repeats Fresh, not sure what Jubilee means as the two of them look at each other. The girl rubs her arm, not entirely understanding the situation as she breaks eye-contact. Is Jubilee mad about her trick to get them to have breakfast together? Or is this still about the necklace? “I’m sorry about the necklace. Please don’t be mad at me…”

“I’m mad at you,” says Jubilee and Fresh flinches, feeling her eyes grow damp. “But I’m also impressed. I honestly didn’t know you had it in you,” says Jubilee “I still remember when you were snot-crying about that goblin. But look at you now, stringing innocent priestesses along without skipping a beat.” Jubilee sighs. “You really are a witch.”

Fresh isn’t sure how to take that last statement and fidgets, walking towards her friend who continues speaking. “I suppose striking when the iron is hot is the way to go though. She’s messed up now, so she’s vulnerable. We’d be dumb to let this opportunity go.”

“Jubilee, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Fresh. “Did I do something bad?” The girl fiddles with her fingers as she watches Jubilee. “…I just wanted to spend time with you, because you’re my friend. And she’s nice.”

Jubilee looks up to her, tilting their head. “You really don’t know, do you?” They sigh, apparently relenting. Their tense posture loosens. “How do you always manage to do things right, even when you’re doing literally everything wrong?”

Fresh’s lips quiver as she shakes her head. She feels as if she is about to be yelled at again. “Jubileee~” she begins whining. Jubilee raises a hand, cutting her off.

“The orc was murdered the day before yesterday.”

Fresh’s eyes widen. “…What?”

Jubilee nods. “Yeah, real gruesome stuff too, apparently. Middle of the night. Cloak and dagger bullshit.”

Fresh covers her mouth, tears growing in her eyes. “That’s awful!”

Her party-member shrugs, going behind the counter. “It is what it is. But she’s alone now. Tired, desperate and vulnerable.” Their eyes lock on to hers. “She’s right where we need her to be.”