“Wow, I haven’t seen a slime in years…” mutters a surprised elf, bending down to look at Shamrock. “What a cute guy.”

“Hello,” says Shamrock.

“IT TALKS!” yells the elf in surprise, covering her mouth as she pulls back.

Fresh sighs, crossing her arms. “His name is Shamrock and he’s a man.”

The elf blinks, looking at her and then at Shamrock. “Oh. That’s a really cute name for a slime.”

Fresh obviously agrees with her. Shamrock has the perfect color to suit his name, which is perhaps why he has it. But that being said, she doesn’t like people getting too close to her friends. People seem to want to touch Shamrock and it’s making her feel oddly protective. Plus she doesn’t like that people are calling him what he is rather than what he is, if that makes sense. Though Shamrock doesn’t seem to mind, taking life as quietly as always.

“Can I pet him?” asks a caster from next to them.

Fresh frowns. “You can’t just pet random people.”

The caster blinks, looking at her before lifting a hand and petting the elf, who she clearly doesn’t know. The elf doesn’t seem bothered in the least and just smiles, leaning her head in towards the stranger.

“Ten Obols per session,” says Jubilee, holding out their hand and waving with their fingers.

“Jubilee~!” argues Fresh. “Don’t let strangers pay money to touch Shamrock! It’s immoral!”

“Oh, please. You’re just jealous,” says Jubilee, pocketing the coins that the elf handed over with absolutely zero hesitation. “I don’t have time for your holy ways. Besides, I recall you trying to buy hugs.”

“I think we can charge more than ten,” mutters Basil, standing off to the side and thinking. Her golden bracelet jangles on her wrist.

Fresh gasps. “Are you okay with this, Shamrock?” she asks.

The man shrugs. “Dinner’s on me,” he says.

“Damn right it is,” says Jubilee, taking another ten coins from someone else. “With the way you fucking eat, it’s about time you finally put in some work.”

Fresh sighs. They had just gotten to the central adventurers’ guild, walking through what is objectively a very beautiful city and market-place to get there. The roads of the city all wind their ways around and over and beneath the roots of the great tree, offering many shady nooks and crannies that one might pass through to find shelter from the moonlight for a moment.

There is a loud clamouring of metal as many boots run down the way, a few guardsmen on anqas riding after the soldiers. “Why is everyone in such a fucking hurry tonight?” asks Jubilee. “You’d think the world was ending.” They sigh, looking back at the many people circling around them. “Okay. Show’s fucking over. We’re going to bed,” they say.

“Goodbye,” says Shamrock, wobbling his way after them as they head to the bar. Fresh makes a mental note to buy or make the man some armor as soon as possible.

She blinks, is she jealous?

No. No, that isn’t it. Right? She’s just worried about Shamrock. He might be overwhelmed with all of this sudden attention. Right…?

Fresh scratches her cheek. Oh no. She really is jealous. But still, armor. She could just buy him…

Uh…

She looks around the room. Where’s their money? “Hey, Basil,” she asks, leaning in to the priestess and whispering. “Did we take our money with us?” she quietly asks.

“Huh? Our money?” asks the priestess. “Don’t you have it?” she mutters. “In your, uh… ‘bag’.”

“Oooooh, yeah, that could be,” says Fresh. “Man, I don’t know what’s up with me today, Basil. I feel funny.”

Basil rubs her arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight and by this time tomorrow, you’ll feel normal again,” she promises. “It was a hard day today, after all.”

“But rewarding,” agrees Shamrock.

“Yeah,” Fresh nods, knowing that Basil wouldn’t lie to her. She looks down at the key in her hand as she thinks. Her memory really does feel fuzzy. But she supposes that she’s just exhausted. Clearing an entire dungeon was an achievement in and of itself, especially for their party where Shamrock and Jubilee were carrying most of the combat-weight. She shakes her head, feeling bad about feeling so slack and weak now. Her friends had worked impossibly hard to get them here and here she is, moping around because she feels a little sleepy.

Fresh smiles, looking at the key in her hand. She decides that tomorrow she’s going to take them all on an adventure through this city. They’re going to have a fantastic day and she’s going to work her butt off to let them take it easy for a little while too.

“Did we lock our door?” she asks, suddenly.

“If you ask one more weird fucking question,” says Jubilee. “You’re sleeping in the dungeon. Of course we fucking locked the door, goo-brain.” They shake their head. “You think we just left our home, just like that? After all of the work we put into it? Honestly.”

Fresh shakes her head. “No. You’re right. I’m weird today,” she says.

“Today?” asks Jubilee, turning their head to look at the barkeeper. “We’re checking in. Indefinite stay. Probably just a few days though.”

The man, a tall, lanky, odd man that reminds Fresh of the tailor, back in the north, looks at them and at the key and nods.

“Breakfast is an hour before sunrise,” says the man. “The other meals cost extra.”

“Fair enough,” says Jubilee, waving the others after themselves.

“Wow…” says Fresh, looking around at the guild. “We’ve never gotten free breakfast before.”

“Talk about a luxury,” laughs Basil.

The central adventurers’ guild is perfect. Fresh doesn’t know how else to describe it. It’s the perfect image of an adventurers’ guild, the kind she might have once had in her mind, after arriving into this world.

The orange-glow of the hearth radiates warm light over the large, reddish floorboards that sit beneath the boots of easily a hundred people of all types and origins. There is laughter in the air and food on every table. Adventurers are walking around, making banter and small-talk and having a good time. It isn’t cold and somber like the northern guild, or loud and rowdy like the western one and it isn’t militant and salty like the eastern one. The central adventurers’ guild is… homey.

There’s something about the ‘feeling’ in the air. The vibe. The look on every face. There isn’t any stress or worry about money or fear of death present in every eye. There isn’t a survival driven hunger, looking for any opportunity to take advantage of someone or something. The people here live in abundance, but not in abundance of wealth or power. But rather, abundance of purpose, of joy and hope. Every eye carries the twinkle in it of someone excited to give someone a gift on the coming day, eager to see what the reaction is going to be.

The guild itself is a simple tavern in design. The entrance is already an open area, right after coming in, filled with tables and laughter. Straight ahead is the bar. To the left is a staircase, leading up towards an open upstairs area with some more tables and a railing. There are several doors up there. One of which is the portal door.

Someone steps out of the room, just before they get there. “Oh, pardon me,” says the man, stepping to the side as he makes his way downstairs. Jubilee grabs the door before it swings closed and steps inside and the rest of them follow.

“What a nice city,” says Fresh. “It really is as nice as I thought it was,” she concedes as they enter their room. The room is as expected, though a little smaller than the others, actually. While the other rooms clearly had free space to create a base of operations out of, this one is simply… cozy. There is a bed and a window, that’s about it. But the floor-space is much smaller. It takes about five steps to get to the bed and four from wall to wall.

“Take off your boots, you fucking animal,” says Jubilee.

Fresh looks down. “Oh, sorry!” she says, scooting back to the door and taking off her boots there, before she tracks in more gunk. She looks at her boots. They really are messy. Lots of ash. Man, that dragon sure put up one heck of a fight.

Smiling, she wiggles her feet as she frees them and looks up at the room that her friends all find themselves inside of.

“Hey, guys?” asks Fresh.

Jubilee groans. “Will you stop?” they ask, planting their hands on their hips. “We locked the door. We have our money. Thyme is fine. What’s your problem?” they bark, glaring at her with an annoyed expression.

Fresh blinks, lowering her hand, she rubs her arm. “I just wanted to say that I’m happy you’re here…”

“Aw…” Basil kneels down and hugs her from the side. “You jerk,” mutters the priestess to Jubilee. “We all had a hard day, okay?”

Jubilee softens up, letting out a long sigh and taking off their mask. “We’re just taking a little vacation. We’ll be home again soon, okay?”

“We’re already home,” says Shamrock, scooting past Jubilee to lay first claim on the bed.

“Fuck off, Shamrock!” barks Jubilee after him. “You’re gonna get the bed all fucking wet!”

“I will not,” says Shamrock, glibbering down onto the mattress.

Jubilee groans. “Fuck’s sake. We’re getting you some armor, first thing tomorrow.”

“So, uh…” Fresh looks at Basil and Jubilee, wanting to ask another question. Though, this time, she just wants to ask if they aren’t weirded out by Shamrock. Nobody seems to really be talking about it. But maybe there’s just nothing to say on the matter.

“Shh,” says Basil, rubbing her head. “Let’s call it a day, okay? I promise if you have any more questions tomorrow, I’ll answer them,” says the priestess and Fresh nods.

“Okay.”

All in all, Fresh isn’t really sure what awaits them here in this new city. But from what she’s seen so far, it feels like it’s going to be a very warm and kind place to stay in. Even if only for a little while.

As she lays in bed, pressing herself against Shamrock who she has decided to squish and squash tonight, with Jubilee moving in after her, Fresh smiles. A little trip away from home is nice. But she’s also excited about going back to the beach too, to see all of the warm faces she has become accustomed to. To see all of the fun expressions and acts of emotion acted out on the warm, sunny beach of the eastern desert.

She’s excited to tell Tarja and the fairies about this place and she wants to look out of the window and watch that young adventurer fight crabs with his new dagger. Also, she still has to go to the theater with Basil. There’s still so much left to do. There’s always more work.

Fresh yawns. But maybe for now, just for a little while, they can take a little vacation. They’ve been working so hard for so long now. What’s a few days off, in the grand scheme of things?

In this night to come, the autumn is now to reach its end, the last leaf falling off from the highest branch of the tallest tree in the world and as it begins to descend down towards the ground, carried back and forth by a gentle wind, so too comes the bite of another colder gust, coming from a far off source, carrying with it, the first chill of the winter.

But she can’t feel that here, beneath these warm sheets, between her warm friends.

Wiggling herself into a perfect position, Fresh falls asleep.