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Chapter 12 – On the prowl, under a cowl.

Wilson, the fantabulously sober.

Lost in the Lower City.

Nighttime, moons high in the sky.

I have a dilemma.

I'm in the awkward space between reality and fantasy.

Correction, I'm stuck between my own fantasies and my fantastical reality.

As I gaze at the two moons, twirling about, the tickle of dancing intrigues my feet. My feet consent to the mystery and I begin my very own tipsy tango. I twirl about in counterpoint to the moons, holding my dance partner tight.

I really should put the Mana Sealers on. I'd have to go back to the inn first though. I shouldn't have left them.

...

All of that can wait for later. I'm busy dancing with my new friend.

My dance partner is a rather unfortunate man. I didn't catch his name, so I've went ahead and named him Ted. I found someone that looked intelligent and enticed them with food and drink. One of the biggest shocks yet in my relatively short life is that I'm capable of getting drunk. It turns out that I can't just will alcohol away. Every drunk in the history of everywhere wishes that they could. I guess that powers over sobriety weren't included in my crappy package deal.

“I demand a refund!” I scream at the night sky. I wish my dance partner would share my sentiment.

It's regrettable, but the man has long since passed out.

Getting drunk off of an absurd amount of alcohol was my plan to get this poor man to answer all my questions without remembering it the next day. I get answers, he gets a nice night and a wicked hangover. Win-win minus the hangover, I figured.

Since getting drunk myself was not part of the plan, things turned awry when I reached the tipping point. Tipsy point. Tipsy tipping point... Did I give that server a tip?

Whatever.

I'm dancing across the rooftops, swinging the man around by his arms and leg. His head is lolling about, drool leaking everywhere. Gross.

Dear moons, you gracious things, can you use your gentle light to guide me to the dance partner of my dreams?

Wait. Why am I thinking of Lady Guard? Anilea! But she doesn't even know I exist. I'm guess I'm still mad about earlier.

...

Anyway, I'm glad I bought this wonderful black hooded cloak earlier, even if it was expensive. It's technically dark gray, because I thought black would be too sinister, but under dim light it becomes black. Oh well, I'm only evil looking in the nighttime, I guess.

“Muhahahahaha!” I laugh into the night.

The night does not answer back. There is nothing to be heard asider from the midnight din of the city.

I really should put the Mana Sealers on.

…

I'm glad about the cowl on this cloak because Ted here won't point at me and yell “It's that weird Mage!” when asked in the morning why he has bruises shaped like hands all over his limbs. As I've danced drunk across the rooftops I've been tossing him in the air and clapping my hands. So far, I haven't slipped, but I was close enough that he'll wonder where the bruises on his toes came from.

I'm drunk, okay? It's not my fault, how could I expect it would be the one thing my body doesn't deal with? I can't control this body now, the weird ability to limit my strength to appropriate levels has gone haywire.

I've left crushed roof tiles all across the wake of my waltz. The bruises on Ted's limbs might be a worrying color.

I'm too wild.

I blame Anilea.

It all started a few hours ago.

---

Wilson, the confused.

Being dragged to an inn.

A few hours earlier.

Anilea is dragging me around the place which I've heard called the Inner Court.

After we were kicked out of the City Planner's office, we winded through the confusing paths of this place and managed to arrive at the treasury. One of the treasuries, anyway. The Planner's paranoia to make multiple hidden treasuries across the Inner Court definitely comes from his time as a merchant.

Anilea had a brief chat with the treasurer. It was very brief. All she said was “Here.” while offering an official looking document that she ferreted out from somewhere.

The man was tedious and went over the document line by line. After having had satisfied his duties, he promptly handed over a small bag filled with gold coins. Anilea had taken it, inspected it herself and then handed it over to me.

I looked inside it.

Oooh, sparkly.

My first currency. I plucked out a coin and was rubbing it greedily in my fingers when I felt a familiar female stare.

Okay, I'll put it away.

The insides of my robe happily latched onto the gold. The mysterious magical item might be even more attached to gold than I am. It refuses to hold onto the Mana Sealers, which is understandable. I end up having to carry them around with me, I'm beginning to think that they weren't the smartest thing to ask for.

No, no. That's not true. They have already been beneficial.

I think it's because I've been holding them that my most of my impulses have been quiet.

It's not the same as wearing them properly, but it's enough to leave me feeling balanced.

Maybe a little too balanced. I'm feeling pretty miserable being dragged around right now.

Anilea said only “Inn.” before heading off again from the treasurers, so I assume that's where we are going. After a few final corners we exit the maze, known as the Inner Court, and come out midway down the Upper City. We are roughly where I had seen the colorful buildings while coming into the city.

Anilea stops for a second of consideration and then just when I think we're finally going to take a break, she turns and starts heading up the street. I follow along after her, loathing having to walk more, due to sheer boredom. I'm impressed by her stoic nature. It helps that I have a nice view...

Not like there is much to see aside from armo-o-ocean... but it's a nice view nonetheless.

As I'm busy staring at h-… the ocean, we come around yet another corner.

There is an ornate mansion sprawling out in front of me.

This better not be the inn.

“This is the inn.” mentions Anilea.

It has a courtyard and two wings, and gardens all around it. It's three stories high, with a carved stone facade. It has glass. I haven't seen much glass here. I'm not sure but the handles to the massive doors might be made of gold. It's way too fancy.

“This is the inn?” I ask Anilea, hoping it wasn't so.

“This is the inn.” she says again, unperturbed by my accusatory tone.

I don't want to stay here. I was perfectly happy sleeping in piles of bloody purple sand, or in a back of a wagon. I guess I'm stupid for not wanting to stay in such a beautiful place. I don't want to stay here, I'm definitely going to break something. Then the planner will kill me. I don't want to die.

She doesn't give me time to protest. She breezes through the gilded doors and starts up a clipped conversation with the richly dressed man that I can only assume is the innkeeper.

Crap, I need to buy some clothes other than this robe, or at least clothes I can wear over top of it. The brown and gray look is unique, but drab. I could get a haircut too. Wait, does my hair even grow? It's as short and wavy as it was the first day I arrived. Spooky.

Having finished her discussion with the man, Anilea turned around and locked eyes with me.

“He'll take you to your room. I'll meet you back here tomorrow morning to guide you around.” she said in one breath, before walking out the doors. I understand that it's getting late, but she still pisses me off.

Leaving me here with this innkeeper man.

I demand better treatment.

I look around. Everything is delicate and shiny. Very breakable.

I demand worse treatment.

---

Wilson, the procrastinator.

Shaking off his troubles.

Nighttime, moons high in the sky.

I'm shaking off my intoxication with some more vigorous dance moves. It's enough to break my out of my reminiscence.

Every time I think about that fancy inn, I can't relax. Living a stress free life sounds ideal. It's part of my dream to be a proper studious wizard in a very unbreakable solid stone tower. When I build up stress or want some adventure, I would have the luxury of going out to kill dragons! If they exist! Ugh. I've been twirling around dreaming about it. I feel nauseous.

I don't want to go back tonight, maybe that is why I drank more than I should have. I realized I was getting drunk but kept drinking anyways, telling myself that Ted will talk more if I'm drinking along with him. Instead I think I was trying to drink away the inevitable; going back to sleep at the inn, then dealing with Anilea in the morning.

The man who I thought was the innkeeper was a mere employee. He was condescending throughout my brief tour of the inn. I'm pretty sure he was trying to make me punch him. His smile was so fake and he kept bowing to me mockingly. I hate him. If I have to run away from this city, I'll try to stop to say goodbye. I'll give him a pleasant goodbye tap, maybe to his smiley teeth.

Thinking about running away brings up the other words Anilea said to me. How she would guide me around. I think it means I'll have to fight those trees. At least it's a known enemy. I'll have to figure it out when I get there. I've learned enough from Ted so far that I think I can survive on my own, as long as I keep this robe covered up.

Speaking of Ted, I should probably bring him home before my sour mood causes him serious harm. A bad hangover and bruises can be explained away, but a dead person cannot. I don't know where he lives, though, so maybe I'll drop him where we met. Then I should stop wasting time and find a way home myself.

It's really late, and I'm quite drunk. So finding a boat back across the bay might prove difficult. I guess enough coins can solve that problem.

I'll run out of coins if I keep spending them like this.

I still don't have a plan to deal with the silly trees yet, aside from trying to punch them.

I have nothing but troubles.

Not much I can do, especially while drunk.

Since I'm shaking off my worries, I'll shake some more and give Ted a shake too. If he wakes up perhaps I can shake him down for some information.

Oops.

Maybe I shouldn't shake that much.

Ted, are you alright?

Ted!?

---