PETRUS, a tavernkeeper in Shamrock

Cling! Clang! “HUZZAH!” the tavern erupted in a communal roar. A series of gulps silenced the cheers and laughter as mugs of alcohol went down the hatch.

Even Petrus drank his share. It wasn’t appropriate for the tavernkeeper, but who cared? Today of all days, he was free to drink as he pleased. As long as he maintained the capacity to serve customers, no complaints.

Patricia danced among the customers. A carefree damsel equipped with a tray of overflowing pints of ale and a massive grin. Her ceremonial skirt twirled in a smooth, seamless circle. The frills brushed against the drinkers as she passed. In return, she received leering eyes.

Even in his buzzed stupor, Petrus kept an eye on his wife. He was okay with the customers’ behavior. They had the money after all, and Patricia was having fun nevertheless. However, knowing this crowd, a steel-tipped broom handle awaited any man whose hand moved a little too far from his mug.

This was the spirit of the village of Shamrock, a small enclave on the western shore of the Selatin Kingdom. The mining town was full of heavy drinkers on every other day of the year, although those cups were mainly for drowning one’s sorrows.

Not today. Today the people celebrated the legacy of their town’s pride and joy. Alessandria, a Moon focus born a century ago at the kingdom’s dawn, and the first person to occupy the role of the Seventh Paladin. She was born in Shamrock, according to legend at least, but the legend was the only thing making the village relevant in the eyes of history.

Yeah, it was worth a few kegs of ale every year.

Granted, one wouldn’t guess they were celebrating anyone at all without doing their research. From the flushed expressions of the tavern-goers, they just wanted an excuse to drink even more.

Petrus raised his cup and cried, “Huzzah!” for no other reason than because he could. The drunken tavern cheered back. Petrus broke into a giggling fit at how easy spurring them was.

“Are you alright, man?”

“Hehe. Jus’ give me a moment.”

Patricia twirled near him, her tray now a clump of empty mugs. “Oi, Pete! Some want Lager’s now. The Alessandria special.”

“How many times do I have to tell them that special doesn’t exist? Seriously, where do they get that idea from?”

“Well, they’re gettin’ rowdy. So I don’t care if ‘it doesn’t exist’ or not, I need somethin’ to serve! Make something up if ya have to.”

Petrus spit some loose saliva into his mug. “I’ll serve them my own piss if need be.” When Patricia left, he whispered to a customer at the bar. “Ordering me ‘round like that? I swear, sometimes she forgets who owns the damn place.”

“Let’s just enjoy the festivities, Petrus,” the customer said, raising his mug.

“Cheers to that! Ha!”

A few hours passed. Oddly enough, there were few knockouts. If someone’s snoring sucked in the walls, those nearby would kick them awake. The voice slowly slurred and quieted over time, but the overall mood had hardly changed. The boisterous joy settled into a quiet, sweet ambiance like froth disappearing from a flat beer. Enjoyable, but much less exciting.

And then the door was kicked in.

Normally, Petrus would have jumped into high alert if that happened, but his mind and body were much too weary to pay attention. The tavern came to an instant silence as all eyes drew to the newcomer. The afternoon sun shrouded his details while he remained outside.

He walked into a clearer light, and the drunken tavern-goers gasped at varying degrees of horror and confusion. A monster had stepped inside. Evergreen hair, a solid steel ball bulging from the side of his nose and a ring jutted from his lower lip. His fingernails were elongated into sharp, black needles. He was disgusting, but at the same time, an odd figure.

The expression on his face was sinister like he was devising a plan to kill everyone in an instant. Petrus’s hand grabbed for the steel-tipped broom.

“I hope I’m not late to the party,” the stranger said in a low voice. In the blink of an eye, his face twisted into beaming delight. “Where’s the ale! I swear to hell you better not have run out, old man!”

Petrus’s eye twitched. Suddenly, some features on this stranger were becoming more familiar. “Oh, you have got to be joking. Theta? Is that you?”

Teagan “Theta” Arsetts sat at a stool and stole Petrus’s mug without a word, gulping every last drop. “Sorry. I know I promised to be back for the celebration, but the contract took way longer than I thought it would.”

Theta rambled on, but Petrus wasn’t ready to listen to him yet. First, he needed to make some verifications. “Quit speaking. I think I’ve drunk too much. I could hardly recognize you.”

“Oh, this? Yeah, I got a new look. Suits me, right?”

Petrus stared at Theta’s evergreen hair, which was pushed into a single strip atop his head. “What happened? Why do you look…like that?”

He shrugged. “I wanted a change. See this? It’s inspired by Modifications. They call it a ‘piercing.’ The wonders of modern art are amazing.”

“…”

“Something wrong, Pete?”

“And you’re comfortable with that look?”

“Yeah. The man told me I’d get all the women. And it works! Watch?” He turned to Patricia. “Hey! Come here.”

Patricia heard him, but she didn’t spare him a glance. She kept her back to Theta at all times.

“Eh, what a slut.”

“Theta, that’s my wife.”

“Oh, right. Ha! I’m sure you’ll forgive me, right? After all, today’s a day for joy!”

However, Theta’s arrival killed the mood in the tavern. Although conversations resumed, people soon decided it was time to leave.

“Hey, hey, hey! Where are you all going? The fun hasn’t even started!” Theta called to them as they exited.

“It’s…late. It’s been fun, but work doesn’t just stop tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I have a hangover to work through.”

Theta looked appalled like he was on the verge of crying. “Ah! Come on! I just got here.”

“Sorry.”

“Welcome back, Teagan.”

What was once shock simmered into anger. Watching even for Petrus was hard. Shamrock didn’t hate Theta, but at the same time, he was challenging to be around. Blunt, rude, condescending, boastful. The man was a full sack of selfish personalities. Apparently, before Theta arrived in Shamrock, he had little to no exposure with society. It was honestly better if the people weren’t around him today. In their drunken states, fists might be thrown when he crossed a line.

That usually wasn’t an ‘if’ but a ‘when.’

The dark glare in Theta’s eyes tipped Petrus off that something was amiss. He might not have to worry about the people throwing the first punch tonight.

“Theta, don’t…”

“I’m not, Pete.”

He moved the broken door aside and firmly stepped in the path of the departing townsfolk.

Theta pointed to the sky. “As you can all see, there’s still daylight. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I had only one day a year to celebrate to my heart’s content, I’d spend every second of it in cups.”

“Look, Theta, hic. We got buzzed a little too early. I don’t think any of us have the energy to keep going.”

“Yeah, my wife will crack my skull in if I can’t even function when I get home.”

“Dumbass. You already can’t function!” Theta declared. “Go big or go home. That’s the rule in Teagan’s household, and if you want to be my friends, we will abide.”

A mixture of reactions spurred the crowd. Some of them wanted to throttle Theta for assuming they were his friends. Some felt guilty. None of them directly said they didn’t care about him. Some of them did care about him but didn’t know how to voice it properly.

It reflected the kind of response Theta inspired ever since he saved Shamrock from a Hell Breach. Everyone wanted to thank him for their lives, but he grew increasingly intolerable.

I guess it’s why we can’t turn him away.

“What do you have in mind, Theta?”

Theta’s grin emerged. He reached into his clothes and pulled out a deck of cards. Oh, boy.

“Play me at a game of luck. Five of you at a time. If you win, I’ll give you a copy of Liver Cleanse, and you can go home with a sober smile. Otherwise, you and I are getting shit-faced till midnight!”

They all groaned. Theta put his ear to them mockingly. “Oh? Sounds like some people think themselves unlucky.”

“Okay, asshole! You’re on!” It was amazing. Petrus shook his head and smiled at how quickly Theta could transform disappointment into aggravated hostility. He was too old to understand this new generation, but regardless of their tendency towards stupidity, it was better than having them stake each other’s hearts with spears.

Within minutes, Petrus’s tavern was a game house. Patricia dealt the cards, and Theta was up against his first round of five opponents.

A half-hour later, all five were sitting in the corner, sweltering in defeat.

Theta’s grin expanded. “Next!”

The tavern-goers’ eyes of anger widened with each consecutive win for Theta. By the time it was over, and everyone was stuck drinking at the tavern, one of the final opponents grabbed him by the collar.

“You’ve been cheating! Haven’t you! It’s the only way you could have won this!”

“I wouldn’t call it cheating,” he said. He opened his palm, and Displayed the spectral image of a magenta sigma opened in his hand. “I call it being ‘unnaturally lucky.’”

The sigma was a Moon sigma, Luck of the Night, and the whole tavern growled at its reveal.

“Now, gentlemen! In the interest of keeping your promises, who’s ready to party!”

Theta learned that cheating automatically voids any obligations made under those conditions. He also learned that the people of Shamrock didn’t take kindly to wasting their time. After being beaten up by about thirty angry, burly miners, they all left steaming, and Theta had a few crushed ribs and a black eye.

“Honestly, I’ve seen them do worse. You’re lucky you’re not an actual criminal,” Patricia said, looming over him. She helped the broken man stand. “Come on. We're generous tonight so the room will be free.”

Theta laughed and coughed. “Oh, I knew they would do that. I’m not stupid.”

Debatable.

“Really. So how did you benefit from this experience in any way?”

“It’s not like I swindled them out of money. I just wanted to have some fun, and you know what? I did.”

Petrus shook his head. “Honestly, what would Shamrock do without you.”

“It would be a lot more peaceful,” said Patricia.

“Hey, that’s rude!”

“Let’s get you to bed, Theta.”

She helped him upstairs, although Theta passed out halfway up the flight. The combination of injuries and alcohol shut his mind off without warning. His face was paralyzed into a smile.

With the tavern floor now empty, Petrus set about cleaning the place. When he reached the spot where Theta was assaulted, he noticed some scratches on the floor. An inscription carved by Theta’s excessively long black nails.

BLESS THIS TOWN

Before closing the tavern, Petrus took a visit to Theta’s room. The man was half his age, but for some reason hearing him snore reminded Petrus of the son he never had.

In a whisper, he said, “Thank you Theta. Thank you for being here. Thank you for your spirit.”

SNNNNNOORRREEE!

They were the words Petrus never got to say often. And he knew for a damn fact they were words Theta would hardly ever get to here.

The guests with scraped and bloody fists might not view it the same way, but Theta made some friends. God knows he needs some of those. Being a social creature was not a natural skill for him. He sacrificed it long ago.

Such was the price of being a self-proclaimed Servant of Humanity.

Luck of the Night - Moon: Alters fate, fortune, and relevant factors in the immediate vicinity to make unconscious decisions towards the benefit of the user. (14777).

(A) Only requires a VC to activate. However, if the user is placed into a situation determined mostly or solely by chance, Luck of the Night will automatically activate to benefit the user unless disabled by a VC. Luck of the Night only applies to the user for a maximum of one hour, regardless of whether it was activated by a VC or automatically. This sigma works not by controlling minds, but by altering the scenario and the habits of those involved to make seemingly random choices that are, unbeknownst to them, beneficial to the user. Luck of the Night is an omniscient sigma. However, it only operates for the time it is used and cannot change things out of that time frame. (!) There are many situations where luck is not enough to save the user.