“It’s so hooot~” groans Fresh. Her body is slumped forward over the counter. Her head rests down on top of the wooden surface, her arms limply dangling out over the other side. Basil stands next to her, the priestess fanning herself with a sheet of paper. She doesn’t respond with anything more than a deep exhalation. Fresh opens her eyes, looking at the sweat stains on Basil’s robe. She supposes it must be pretty warm in that outfit. Then again…

Her eyes wander to her own long, black sleeves.

- It’s probably just as warm as her own. So… pretty warm.

“Jubileeee~” whines Fresh, rolling her head the other way to look at Jubilee, who is sitting on the stairs. “It’s hooot~” complains the girl to them, as if they hadn’t heard her the first time.

“Yeah,” is all that Jubilee says, spreading their hands behind themselves and leaning back against the steps.

“Mhm,” agrees Basil, continuing to fan herself.

The noise of buzzing cicadas is the only sound in the air. Not even birds sing anymore, the small creatures having long since retreated into the shade, deep inside of the trees. The only people in the streets are common-folk in cloth clothing and the occasional caster. But anyone who has anything more than that to wear has either long since vanished into the cool, underground dungeon and planned to spend the entire day there, or simply never left their homes to begin with. There hasn’t been a single customer for hours, past the initial morning rush. As soon as the sun came out in full force during the later morning, everyone more or less vanished, leaving the three of them sitting there with entirely idle, damp hands.

“Hey Basil,” says Fresh listlessly.

“…What?” asks Basil, clearly straining herself to talk. The paper rustling in her hands as she continues to fan herself.

“Chicken-butt.”

Jubilee sighs an exhausted sigh and Fresh does the same, despite the joke having been her own. Basil tilts her head, but then just sighs as well. “Mhm,” says Basil.

“Yeah,” says Fresh.

“Yeah,” says Jubilee, as the three of them stay just as they are, entirely motionless and stationary, as if all of them, except for Basil’s fanning hand, had been frozen in time.

It’s hot.

The transition from early summer to what certainly feels like mid-summer, despite it not being that, has been sudden, to say the least. “Is this what summer is always like here?” asks Fresh.

“Yeah,” says Jubilee plainly.

“Mhm,” says Basil, not wanting to or simply not having the energy to open her mouth.

The three of them listen to the humming song of a single, buzzing cicada outside, which seems to be particularly close to the shop. Fresh looks over to Jubilee again. She bets they’re warm under all of their clothes too. “We should go swimming,” suggests the girl.

“Pass,” says Jubilee.

Basil shakes her head. “It would be inappropriate.”

Fresh sighs. She supposes Jubilee doesn’t want to take off their clothes. As for Basil, well, she supposes the priestess doesn’t want to take off her clothes either. She thinks for a moment, realizing that she doesn’t even have a bathing suit herself, if those even exist here. Maybe the same argument applies for herself as well, then.

Groaning, Fresh pushes herself up, planting her hands onto the counter as she rises to her feet and wobbles up the stairs, past Jubilee who doesn’t move an inch. A moment later, she comes back down with three empty glass bottles in hand, and walks outside towards the fountain, neither of her friends saying a word.

The sunlight crashes down against her face the moment she steps out of the shade of the building. Immediately, she lifts her hands up to her face and blocks out the shining rays, stopping them from piercing into her eyes.

“It’s so bright,” sighs the girl, forcing herself to walk through the heat towards the fountain. The black fabric of her dress begins becoming hot immediately and she regrets stepping outside only a few seconds later, before she’s even half-way to the fountain.

Finally reaching her goal, after what felt like a long, arduous journey, she retreats behind the shade of the gate, leaning forward against the fountain and taking a deep breath. Then, filling up the bottles, she is pleased to find that the fountain water is at least somewhat cool.

With a tired gaze, she looks back across the plaza to the door of the shop, which seems so impossibly far away now. It’s as if she were gazing over a vast, endless desert. Fresh purses her lips, pushing herself back up to her feet, the three glass bottles clinking as she holds them against her body. She has to make this journey back for her friends, they’re counting on her.

Putting all of her willpower into it, the girl steps back out into the sunlight and moves as fast as she dares, back towards the shop, the light of the sun cooking the left half of her body this time.

“I got us some water,” says Fresh, lacking her usual excitement as she comes back inside. Placing the bottles down, she slides one of the glistening glass containers towards Basil and then hands the other one over to Jubilee.

“Thanks,” says Basil, lifting the bottle and holding it against her sweaty forehead, rather than drinking it. Jubilee nods to her, not saying anything and takes the bottle, simply holding onto it.

Fresh returns to her spot next to Basil, flopping back down onto the counter, just like she was before. The girl closes her eyes. “It’s so hot.”

“Yeah,” sighs Jubilee.

“Mhm,” says Basil.

The rest of the afternoon passes like that. Not a single customer comes into the shop. Not a single piece of equipment comes in to be repaired. None of their potions move. None of the weapons or equipment or lanterns. Nothing. Not even a single glass-chicken. The entire day is just the three of them sitting around idly, not even holding a conversation that lasts longer than a few grunts or nods. Despite her ample free time, Fresh never quite manages to find the energy and motivation to do any more work on the house. Even the excitement of the new kitchen upstairs doesn’t lure her away from the spot on the wooden counter that she is practically glued to.

Now that summer is here, it’s hard for her to tell what time it is, as the sun sets and rises differently. Even now, in the evening, it’s still just as bright outside as if it were midday. If the bells of the church hadn’t started ringing, echoing out through the quiet city, she would have never known that it is this late in the day.

The heat never quite entirely subsides, its presence is now a given constant. But as the evening rolls around, the sun does seem to dim just a little, much to their shared relief. It’s about time for them to close and literally nothing has happened all day. Fresh had offered to get them some lunch ready, but neither of her friends had any appetite according to them and in truth, neither did she. It’s just too hot.

Quietly, as she stares forward out of the door, Fresh hopes that maybe the adventurers will all come to them in a rush at the end of the day, once all of them stream back out of the dungeon, after the sun has retreated a little further.

But then, as if the universe itself had decided to disprove her theory, slowly, people start trickling out of the dungeon, one after the other, as the parties make their way back to the surface. All of them falter in their exhausted steps, as the blasting heat of the outside world swallows their bodies, which had been submerged down in the cool dungeon all day. Fresh tilts her head, watching them. They aren’t wearing their bags. Some of them she recognizes from this morning, she’s sure she saw them entering the dungeon with them.

Are they just leaving all of their loot inside?

More and more entirely exhausted groups begin to exit the dungeon, most of them having likely spent the entire day fighting monsters. None of them make a beeline towards their store. All of them just drag themselves down the street, she assumes that they are heading towards the adventurers’ guild.

“They’ll be back in the morning,” says Jubilee, perhaps reading her expression. Fresh rolls her head over the counter, resting it onto her right ear as she looks at Jubilee, who is still on the staircase. “Nobody wants to bother carrying loot in this heat. They’ll just get their bags tomorrow morning and sell everything while it's still cool outside. It’s a classic summer trick.”

Fresh groans. “Isn’t this terrible for us?”

“It is,” says Jubilee, apparently not too bothered. “But there’s nothing we can do about it, until summer goes away on its own.”

“Can we hire an ice-wizard? To make the store cold?” Basil quietly laughs, quickly covering her mouth and trying to stop herself.

“Not even we can afford that. Those crystal-flinging goons charge out the ass during summer. Just about all of them are off, hired by the noble estates.”

Fresh sighs. “What about ice-monster drops? Isn’t there anything that’s super cold?”

Jubilee shakes their head again, getting up off of the stairs. “There are a few things, but I haven’t seen anyone offering us any. Plus they’re in high demand. Ice-drop prices shoot to the moon during summer.”

Basil nods. “I saw a single ice-golem-core on my way here this morning, in a window. It was six-hundred Obols.”

“Six-hundred?!” asks Fresh in surprise. That seems absurdly high for a monster drop.

“Well yeah, they’re cold as all fuck,” says Jubilee. “It’ll only last you a day though, before it melts. So you need a new one every day,” they explain. “That’s still cheap. Wait another couple of weeks. They’ll be double that price, when summer really gets going.”

“You mean this isn’t it? It’s going to get worse?” asks Fresh, somewhat worried.

Jubilee walks to the door, slamming it shut. Nobody is going to come to the store today. “Yeah,” says Jubilee plainly, locking the door.

“Mhm,” agrees Basil, patting Fresh on the back.

The girl sighs in defeat. She has to figure something out. It would be fine if all of their customers come in the morning, if not a little hectic. But months of this lethargy? Even if their business could survive, she isn’t sure if they will. Not because of the threat that the heat poses, but...

Fresh forces herself upright, feeling bad about having wasted an entire day now. Her eyes scan the store. She could have done so much work. There is so much that still needs to be done.

What is she doing just sitting around?

Outside, the cicada’s buzz is entirely undisturbed and indifferent to her worries. Their song heralds the dawn of summer. It’s going to be a real scorcher.