This isn’t Tosa? The heir of Tosa is dead?

The words swirled in Luc’s head as he stood in front of the woman in the Happy Farmer Inn. He had never left the boundaries of Tosa before. If this woman of the inn was indeed telling the truth, he was in a bit of a pinch. These Glian peasants wouldn’t recognize the greatness of his father. But even these people would still respect nobility, right?

“I asked ya, what did ya call me?” asked the woman, taking a step towards Luc. She was tall. Almost as tall as he was. Around them, the inn had gotten very quiet. Luc, the self-proclaimed coward, decided that this was a situation he wanted to avoid.

“Forget it,” said Luc. “Where’s the owner of this place?”

“I’m the owner o’ this inn,” said the woman, placing her hands on her hips. “Now tell me. Who are ya and where did ya come from?”

“Listen here, woman,” said Luc. “I’ve been stuck in a dead Emperor’s tomb for an entire night. On top of that, I lost my entire Status. Not to mention, I’m the heir of Tosa. I don’t know what kind of nonsense you’ve been hearing, but trust me, I’m alive and - ”

The woman slapped him.

Luc stood there for a moment, silent. This peasant dares to touch me? The heir of Tosa?

“That’s it!” said Luc. He jabbed a finger at the woman’s face. “[Kneel]!”

/

[Kneel] was unsuccessful.

“What did ya say to me?” asked the woman, voice suddenly very serious. In the background, people began standing up from their chairs. They crowded into the back corner of the dining area, as far away from Luc and the woman as possible. Luc scowled. I thought I leveled it up! What’s going on?

“I said [Kneel]!” said Luc, hoping that second time was the charm.

/

[Kneel] was unsuccessful.

Before Luc could try again, the woman grabbed Luc by the front of the robes. Flexing her arms, she lifted him off his feet and into the air. With a grunt, she threw him like a sack of potatoes. There was a crunch of wood as Luc hurtled through the front door of the inn. He crashed into the front porch, tumbling down the steps and onto the dirt path. Lying there, body aching, Luc wondered how this woman was so strong and why he hadn’t let the giant spider kill him in one swift blow.

“Calm down, Val,” said a voice from the inn. “He’s just a kid. Why don’t ya cut ‘im some slack?”

“He ain’t a kid,” said Val, the woman. “He’s a spoiled brat who needs ta learn some manners!”

“Well…think about yer door then,” said the person talking to Val. “That’s the third one this month.”

“…fine.”

Luc heard footsteps coming down the stairs of the porch. Reaching into his bag of signature tricks, he pulled out one of his favorites – playing dead. In this case, not dead, but unconscious. Relaxing all the muscles in his body, Luc let his eyes drift closed. The only thing that moved was the rising and falling of his chest. It was a maneuver he had practiced many times over the years, honed and perfected through –

“Heir of Tosa. Do you slumber?” asked a gruff, masculine voice. It was not Val.

Luc opened his eyes and found himself looking up at an old man, bent over with age. The old man held a cane in his right hand, and he was wrapped in a black cloak even in the burning heat of the sun. His wrinkled face was twisted and bulbous, with a large mole on his left cheek.

“Who are you?” asked Luc, grimacing at the man’s appearance.

“I am as I appear,” said the old man. “An old man traveling through Glia. However, I must ask you. Do my ears deceive me, or did you speak of a tomb earlier?”

Luc narrowed his eyes. “You might have, and you might not have. What’s in it for me?”

“I presume you do not have any money?” the old man asked, noting at Luc’s ragged appearance. “Come. I will buy you as much food and drink as you desire.”

Luc stared up at the man for a moment, hesitating. He was the heir of Tosa, not a beggar. There was no way he was accepting charity, especially when –

Luc’s stomach growled, a low rumble that practically gave the old man his answer.

“Food first, then we’ll talk,” said Luc.

-

“Enjoy your meal,” said Val, slamming the plate of food down in front of Luc. In the plate was a slab of steak, two slices of bread, and a whole lot of corn. The food, although plain for nobility, made Luc’s mouth water when its delectable scent hit his nose. As soon as Val left, sparing Luc an angry glance in the process, Luc dug in, shoveling food into his mouth. He only paused to take several gulps of water to wash down the food stuck in his throat.

The old man, named Jad, watched from across Luc. The two of them sat at one of the tables in the corner of the room. It seemed the Happy Farmer Inn was quite popular in the town, which Jad called Olfar. Apparently, Val had the [Brewmaster] skill, allowing her to make incredible beer with unbelievable efficiency. This alone was enough to draw farmers in from their fields for brief breaks throughout the day. Upon hearing this, Luc chose to drink water instead, refusing to let her get the satisfaction of seeing him gulp down something her skill had made.

A mere five minutes was enough for Luc to finish the meal. He leaned back in his chair, feeling a little sick from eating so quickly. Still, he felt much better after getting his hunger sated and his thirst quenched.

“So,” said Jad, who had been patiently sitting in silence. “The tomb?”

“Don’t bother with it,” said Luc. “It’s collapsed now.”

“Collapsed?” asked Jad, scratching at the mole on his cheek. “It is of no matter. You were inside, yes?”

“Yeah,” said Luc, not seeing any issue in telling Jad what had happened. “Couple of no good Nighthawks took me into the tomb. Said it was the tomb of some Emperor. Turns out they were a bunch of backstabbers.”

“Ah,” said Jad. “So you do not know who the tomb belonged to.”

“I don’t,” said Luc. “But I did make it down to the coffin. The guy inside was pretty young to be an Emperor.”

“It was that easy to open the coffin?” asked Jad, looking a tad disappointed. A moment later, the look of disappointment faded, and the old man reached into his cloak, pulling out a slip of paper. “By chance, did the man inside look like this?”

Luc glanced down at the hand-drawn portrait. The picture showed the face and shoulders of a young man. Although the sketch was rough and the details vague, Luc could definitely make out a little similarity between the picture and the corpse in the coffin. But then again, most Emperor’s, with their identical clothing and hairstyle, all looked very similar. Taking a closer look at the picture, Luc saw a pendant hanging around the man’s neck. It looked to be circular, with a single square in the middle – exactly like the pendant that hung around Luc’s neck right now.

Probably a family heirloom or personal good luck charm, thought Luc.

“Yeah, it was him,” said Luc. “He had that pendant thing hanging around his neck.”

There was a sharp intake of air from across the table. But when Luc looked up, Jad looked normal and unfazed. Must’ve been my mind acting up again.

“Are you sure it is the same man?” asked Jad.

“Only because of the pendant,” said Luc, pointing at the picture. “I noticed it was made of wood and glass. Is it worth anything?”

“Ha!” said Jad, laughing. “The pendant in the picture? Worth next to nothing.”

“Ah,” said Luc, slightly disappointed. Guess I won’t try selling it to this guy after all. “So why do you care so much about this tomb?”

Jad leaned in, offering Luc a warm smile. Or as close to a warm smile as he could, with the unfortunate face he was born with.

“Could I interest you with a deal?”