We arrive at the slums. Shoddily built huts haphazardly lean against each other as far as the eye can see. Through the twists and turns, the man we met moments ago guides us. We spend a great deal of time ducking and avoiding the pieces of scrap metal that stick out of the huts and jut into the narrow streets.

Many pairs of untrusting eyes watch us from their unlit shelters. Some show contempt on their furrowed brows, others have fear written on their darting eyes, and a questionable handful of them expresses uninhibited glee, indicated by the whites above their irises.

I am walking in their territory, and even though I do not feel welcomed, I hardly feel like I am in any danger. After all, cowards like these won’t try anything. All they could ever do is watch from the sidelines as they have lived so.

The man who is leading us pays no mind to the stares while he swiftly navigates around piles of junk.

“You live here?” I casually throw out a question.

“Yup, sure do. I come from one of the poorest districts in the city,” he indifferently responds to my comment, stopping only at the hut that sits in a dead end. He opens the unlocked door and walks inside, bending his head down to pass through the low entrance. “It’s a bit messy, ahhh, I’m so embarrassed,” he scratches his ear.

The crude pavement continues into the interior of the hut. The hut has a single room, and inside, there is a bed, a small table, and a mini kitchen area in the corner. The only things of luxury are two stuffed animals placed on the little girl’s bed. The room is plain because of the lack of possessions. Where is the mess he was talking about earlier?

*Cough* *Cough* *CouGH*

In the middle of the room, someone is tucked in a single bed.

“P-Pap-a?” a weak voice whispers out.

“Hey there, princess. How are you feeling? I found some nice people who are going to help us. You will get better soon in no time, baby girl,” he smiles sweetly at her from the entranceway.

“Y-yay. . reall-y?” a little girl of maybe seven years in age struggles to voice out.

The father walks over to the table where a single book lays open. “These are the ingredients,” he points to three images on the page. “My daughter has the disease known as Yelos Draeinf. It is a terrible illness that befalls on many children her age. It’s not contagious, so you do not have to worry about yourselves,” he gives a reassuring smile to us.

“I figured that was the case since you seem healthy to me,” I point out.

“I refuse to be sick ... as stupid as that may sound. I need to provide for my family first and foremost. And a man needs to be in tip-top shape to do so!” he grins while he runs a hand through his blonde, scruffy hair.

“Those books ... are they also medicine books?” my slave asks with pique interest at the stack of books sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.

“That’s right. All of these books used to belong to my grandmother. She ran a medicine shop some thirty years ago, but her shop had to be shut down. She passed this year, and she left me her medical books. Gods bless her,” he moves his hands in a strange praying pose as he glances up at his patchy roof. The father looks back to the book on the table, “Anyhow, these are the three ingredients you need to find.”

My slave and I peer into the page. The first image resembles a tulip, but a more wild-looking one. The second is a maple leaf that is skinnier and pointier. And the third is strikingly alike to a ginger root.

“These ingredients are common in the nearest forest. It’s a half-day’s travel worth to get there. I would attempt to go find the ingredients myself, but the monsters in that area are especially dangerous. If I die, then my daughter ...” he trails off.

Choked sobs can be heard from the girl on the bed. “Papa n-o ...! I don’t w-ant you to die, papa. . !” her eyes tear up. Her tiny fists visibly tighten and she shakes her head vigorously from side to side.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, daddy is staying with you forever,” he gently reassures her.

I take another minute to burn the three images to memory because I cannot trust it for the life of me. After confirming that my slave has also taken a look, I speak to the man waiting patiently, “We’ll take this quest. And don't worry about the payment for now; we can negotiate later.”

“Thank you,” he gives a dazzling smile, only to panic after he remembers to bow his head in appreciation.

--- --- ---

I am laying on the fluffy bed in the room we are staying for the night. I turn my head to face the setting sun visible through the only open window. What a day it’s been. I have a party member and I finished my first quest. I’d say it is the most productive I’ve ever been. And tomorrow, I have to complete an unofficial quest. Lots to do.

*DUN* *DUN* *DUNN* *DUN*

*DUN* *DUN* *DUNN* *DUN*

Is there a party going on outside...? I roll over on the bed to see my slave’s reaction, but she is just staring at me. Was she staring at me for the entire time I was daydreaming? I sweatdrop and roll over to face the window again. “I’m going out,” I say getting out of bed, "I'm not going to be around to protect you, so stay here at the inn, and go to sleep. Don't leave the room, okay?"

--- --- ---

The streets are aglow with colorful lanterns emitting soft shades of orange and pink. The atmosphere radiates the same energy and livelihood one can find during the daytime. The vendors that are usually closed at this time, are now open and are selling an assortment of food and drink. Coins flow freely through the people's hands and so do the alcohol. Hundreds of drunks stumble through the crowds, and children of all sizes are grubbily holding candy and toys.

Everyone looks like they’re having a good time, huh. I stand there, taking in the pretty lights and the drumming music. Why am I here? I’m not a party girl.

“Lassie, smile more. It’s a celebration. You stick out like a sore thumb,” a slim man in a brown feathered cap sits on a barrel.

I shrug, “Maybe I would if I knew the reason for celebration.”

“It has been the talk around the city for weeks, how can you not know?" he raises his arms in disbelief. “Well if you want the scoop, then give me a coin,” he chuckles.

I give him an unamused face.

“Ha-ha, just jesting with ya lassie. I’ll talk, and you’ll give a listen won’t ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully. “As you know, big and scarrrrryyyy monsters have been out and about for the past few months. And as the duty of a King goes, your majesty must protect his domain,” he taps his chest with his fist. “He’s a newbie King, that one is, doing what he thinks is right. Thus, his highness is sponsoring tonight’s celebration.”

“And the reason?” I sigh.

He wags his finger at me, “Now, now, lassie, I’m getting to the good part.” He takes a long sip at his drink, making me wait a good minute longer.

I roll my eyes at his obvious attempt to make his story more anticipated.

“The King and Queen have been planning this event for weeks. It’s going to be a yearly celebration of good food and good drink. All these people you see,” he nods toward the citizens, “...are all happy. They are all smiles and laughter. The same smiles they make drinking their nights away at the pubs. Only this time, it’s outside for everyone to see and hear,” he pauses at that. “It’s sort of like ‘Bread and Circuses’ don’t ya think?” he stares into his cup.

I widen my eyes, “Do you know of Rome?”

He smiles, “No, what is Rome? It sounds like a marvelous place.”

I didn’t tell you.

“Do enjoy the party, ladies,” he tips his feathered hat and walks into the crowd, and disappears from sight.

Ladies? I look to my sides, and my slave is standing there eating a hot pastry. “I told you to stay at the inn,” I furrow my brow.

“A slave needs to guard her master,” she bites at her snack.

“Where did you get that?” I ignore her comment.

"I stole it," she says after swallowing.

"If you get caught, I'm not saving you," I roll my eyes.

She goes quiet, hands apprehensively stirring in front of her thighs. Then, she tilts her head up, her eyes searching my own. The blossoming warmth emanating from the lanterns does nothing to wane whatever emotion is in her gaze. With unprecedented confidence, she utters, "Something tells me you w-"

Trumpets thunder nearby, stopping her.

“Honorable citizens! It is time for the main event of the evening!” a charismatic man announces seemingly from far away.

The source of the commotion is in the center of the city square. Where the host stands; hundreds of plain uniformed foot soldiers line up in rows.

“Our King, Queen, and Lords are graciously present this evening to give a warm message to all of the good citizens here tonight,” the host emphasizes.

In the very center of the square stands a man and woman dressed extravagantly with scepters in hand. They both look to be around thirty years in age. A generation of stress from the responsibility as rulers has not settled on their faces yet.

Must be the royal pair I heard so much about.

A hundred knights in shiny, white armor remain standby, occupying a large chunk of the square.

There’s something different about those knights.

“Mom, those knights are so cool,” a boy excitedly yells out to his mom.

“Shush,” she taps him in the shoulder.

The host's booming voice echoes out again, “The guest of honor has arrived!”

A heavy, wrapped box is dragged into the spotlight. One of the knights pulls the embroidered blanket covering the box and reveals a cage.

“The cage is open!” the host announces the minute details.

A burly, tan monster with black and gray tribal stripes covering its face and chest bathes in the harsh yellow light. The monster is wrapped tightly in chains, and colorful seals are planted all over its face and body. At the change of scenery, the monster still doesn't move, even though it is now the center of attention of thousands of people; it's almost as if it does not know what is going on.

A single knight passes the King a glowing white sword.

“May this grand city be protected, now that I am King,” he bellows, swinging full force on the monster’s neck.

*Thunk*