Standing there before me was a building that would have been out of place just about anywhere else. Four wide trees made up its corners, wooden panels seeming to seamlessly grow from their sides to form the walls. Dual-storied, the unnaturally natural construction sported a branchy, trellised ceiling, allowing its patrons to look out at the stars and surrounding forest.

Despite the building looking like something out of a fairy tale, I had to imagine that for many of its patrons, it had already lost its wow factor. It probably would have for me too if I’d been here frequently.

I, however, had not.

This would be my third visit since its completion, and I tried to let the awe of it all wash over me, hoping it would displace some of my mounting dread.

“This is going to suuuuuuuuuuck,” I confessed to the surrounding forest. The forest unfortunately did not reply with any encouragement, and I stood there for a while pepping myself up.

It was just late enough that everything would soon close down -- I didn’t want to ambush Nadja while she was closing down and trying to go to bed, nor did I want to show up early and make her deal with me for her entire shift while she was busy. I’d even considered trying to find her during her off hours, but she had told me to come seek her out here when I was done “being a gods damned coward.”

The bad part of having a good memory. Makes it too easy to remember what people say to you, even when it’s not so hot.

“Okay. Yup. I’m afraid of conflict. And confrontation. Nothing new.” Contrary to popular belief, getting a psychology degree and becoming a therapist didn’t magically help someone get over all their issues. If anything, therapists were some of the most likely people I knew of to have their own therapists. It did hopefully mean I was better at pushing through it all and coping with it, though, which is exactly what I chose to do. “Time to roll, T.”

Without further fanfare, I walked into the bar.

It was slightly less busy than usual, owing to the late hour, but a number of bar-goers still dotted the first floor. Not enough to properly hide my entrance, though, which meant Nadja locked eyes with me right as I entered.

I couldn’t say that she looked happy to see me, exactly, but she made no move to jump over the bar and brain me.

Sometimes it was the little things.

Lips pursed into a thin line, her eyes flitted over to one of the bar stools, something of a reluctant invitation or perhaps a command.

I sat.

To the best of my knowledge, the bar served some sort of wine that Elphaea was making in addition to the local distilled stuff. In this case, however, I was not offered a choice. In a display of speed that could only be the result of some sort of class skill, Nadja clunked a flagon of moonshine down in front of me with an aggressive thud. A moment later, a second cup joined it on her side.

“Still have a job to do. Get drunk enough that you’ll be less annoying, and I’ll work on getting drunk enough so that I’m not as angry.” She did her best to whisper, but I think one or two people heard her regardless, sneaking glances our way and causing the vibe in the room to shift.

At least I don’t have to do this sober? Once again, the little things. I took a quick gulp of the moonshine, nearly sputtering and choking on it the moment it touched my throat. Is this stronger than usual, or does the bar serve paint thinner? And is something this strong really supposed to come in a flagon? It tasted like something I would reluctantly and against my better judgment accept in a shot glass.

Well. Not like I’m going to tell her I won’t drink it, so…

Some time later, when the liquid in my cup was measurably lower, the bar started to clear out. Whether it was just that time, or the tension in the room had led everyone to call it any early night, I couldn’t be entirely sure. At the very least, they’d all had the decency to give me enough time to get a buzz, which while I wouldn’t describe as a pleasant buzz, per se, it at least was doing wonders at drowning the bud of anxiety in my stomach.

And then, at last, it was just me and Nadja.

It wasn’t exactly silent -- it was hard for anything to really feel silent to me anymore now that I had such heightened senses. The occasional muted sounds of weight shifting on wood, the dual sipping noises as we took a second to continue drinking. And then, at once, noise.

“Bit surprised you showed, honestly. Thought you were maybe here to apologize the last time I saw you here, but it turned out you were just here to run away some more, off to some shiny new city.” Despite the accusation, there was no bite to her voice, which somehow made it worse. It was flat, as if my running away was not something to be disappointed or hurt by, but instead blandly expected.

I winced. “Uh. I did, actually. Came here to apologize last time. Didn’t think he’d be here, and then he kind of just grabbed me, and-”

I mentally kicked myself, stopping up short. I probably could have talked her ear off with a solid wall of excuses -- and if she wanted to hear some of them, I might still. Everything I’d done in Ftheran had been important. And she’d been lying to me anyways. And I wasn’t the one who’d knocked her out. Plus, she’d been a thief in the first place. Of the two of us, I’d been the one following the law, and I felt bad about kind of leading her on, but I’d only realized that she’d been flirting with me after the fact, and-

And that was a shitty way to give an apology.

“Uh. Not the point, I guess. Sorry. Came here to say -- I’m sorry. For real. I don’t think I appreciated it as much as I should have at the time, but I think I probably seriously screwed you over with everyone you knew back in Ftheran, or, uh, you probably wouldn’t have come out here. And that’s not to say anything about the fact that the only reason I had access to the scepter in the first place was because you were being nice to me and decided to trust me with a secret, and then I kind of abused that.”

Not that I had the world’s highest opinion of myself or anything, but there was something really just brutal about fessing up to how much you sucked as a person, out loud, to someone else. It brought back that unpleasantly nostalgic sort of feeling of having a teacher stare disapprovingly down at you, letting you wither under their glare until you apologized. Only now that I was older, it was my own conscience glaring down at me, which somehow made it worse.

“So, um, sorry for not telling you I was supposed to steal the scepter. And sorry for taking advantage of your kindness like that. And sorry for leaving you to take the fall for it. And, um, sorry for being a wimp and not coming to say sorry sooner.” I was pretty sure that was a decent summary of what I had to be sorry for.

Nadja seemed to have other ideas.

“Anything else you want to add to that list?”

A particular tilt of her head, a particular lilt in her voice, had me feeling that this was notably not a rhetorical question, and I wracked my brain searching for other ways in which I’d wronged her. I felt a bead of sweat form in record time as I failed to figure out what I hadn’t covered. The moonshine was starting to kick in, and I found my thoughts growing a touch more sluggish.

“N… No? I think no? Maybe? Or, if there’s something I didn’t include, it’s because I’m being dumb and not considering it, and not because I’m not genuinely sorry about it?”

I took a nervous sip from my drink, and in a warped mirror to my action, Nadja looked down at me before throwing back her cup and draining the rest of its contents. After letting loose a weary sigh, she snatched both of our flagons and refilled them, returning them to the bar with another pair of clunks. Save for a slight flush, she seemed none the worse for wear from her liquor.

“Here is how I see it,” she at last replied. “If you were on a quest for the scepter, there’s no way you came to my bar accidentally. Too much of a coincidence. So you knew that it was a thieves bar, and that I was part of the Thieves Guild from the start.”

Wrong, but I guess I get how that seems weird? Cal’s to blame for that one. Probably does make me seem a bit more sinister, though.

“From there, you decided that I was the easiest mark to trick. When it became clear that I was flirting with you, you thought I was desperate, brutally led me on, and then made me want to impress you. You used that to nudge me into offering to show you the scepter, and then as soon as you got what you wanted, you immediately knocked me out and left me there without a word.”

Oh.

Oh.

That really didn’t sound so hot.

I ran through her words, dissecting them to try to pick out exactly which parts were wrong, only to find that it was pretty much all wrong.

At which point, perhaps because of the sheer absurdity of it all, or the drink, or my nerves which were already at the breaking point, I couldn’t even help it as I let off the smallest of nervous chuckles.

Nadja’s hand tightened around the handle of her drink, veins showing clearly on her fist. “And now that I tell you about it, you laugh. I could get that you had some sort of reason, but you’re just-”

I abandoned my drink, bringing my hands off in a frantic warding gesture, cutting her off before she could get too far. “Wait! Wait. Sorry. No. Not a good reaction. Bad reaction, even. It’s just, that’s so… wildly off. Nadja, my Deception is level 1. My Flirt is level 2. If I’d tried all that, I would have failed wildly. And I didn’t even know you were in the guild. Just knew that Temrin and the others were -- they had thief-related classes. I was trying to get more info on them.”

That was actually more coherent than I thought it would be. Thank you adrenaline and maybe Intelligence? And I guess Constitution for making me handle my liquor better? Okay, maybe not the important part.

Nadja relaxed her hand, processing all of that before taking another sip and frowning.

“I don’t buy it. If I wasn’t your mark, then what was the point of agreeing to a date and then leading me on the entire time? Going back to my place for the winter melons and having me play my flute for you? You’re saying all that was to maybe get closer to Temrin?”

There was a certain stillness to her as she fully focused on me, as if by the magnitude of her attention, she’d be able to weigh my words.

I’d like to say that I accordingly chose what to say with great care, then, but that would be a lie. The truth was… kind of embarrassing.

“Um. No? I just thought you were really cool. And uh. Wanted to make a friend.”

She stared at me.

I notably did not stare back.

She stared at me some more.

“Tess. I made an innuendo to you, then asked you out. Showed up fully made-up, tried to take you to a bathhouse, got you a gift, grabbed drinks with you, invited you back to my place late at night, and then pointedly told you I wanted you to stay the night. I absolutely refuse to believe anyone in the universe could be that dense. It’s not even a believable lie.”

With each word I could feel my face grow redder -- obviously from the moonshine and for no other reason. What was I supposed to say here? Hi, I’m Tess; I’m apparently the daftest person ever? I took a long, long swig from my flagon, wincing at the sting and then throwing my hands up into the air in exasperation.

“Look, what am I supposed to think when the literal most attractive person I’ve ever seen -- who is also an older, tattooed bartender -- offers to give me a tour? You think I’m going to go ‘Oh yeah, I’m obviously in her league. She must be flirting with me!’ I just thought you were being nice! And wanted to hear some stories! Plus, you know, I’m not from anywhere near here. Social cues are hard! For all I knew, that was just normal, platonic, Ftheran friendship stuff.”

Could the girl with the big magical quest maybe get, like, a little break when it came to recognizing someone flirting with her? For god’s sake, I’d been a therapist, not a love doctor or a couple’s counselor.

I punctuated my mini outburst by burying myself in my cup, making sure to look anywhere besides at Nadja. When she at last let out a sigh, however, my eyes reflexively moved towards her, and my traitorous Perception took in her expression even if just peripherally.

Far from anger or even disgust, it was something even worse.

“If that’s not a total lie… that’s really sad. Like. Damn.”

Pity. I’d fucked her life over, and yet my fantasy romance skills were so abysmal, she still managed to feel bad for me.

Aghhhhh. This was supposed to suck for all sorts of reasons, but getting embarrassed about my lack of romantic social cues was not it! Please move on!

Blissfully, Nadja obliged. “Still, nice to be called the ‘literal most attractive person you’ve ever seen,’ even if you’re a known liar.” For the first time in the entire conversation, there was just a hint of mirth in her voice, which maybe I would have felt good about it I wasn’t also now even more embarrassed.

Unfortunately, it was short lived.

“Still. Let’s say you’re not lying out of your ass -- big hypothetical here. Either way, you eventually figured out that I was part of the Thieves Guild. You let me lead you to the scepter, knowing I was trusting you. Then you just stole it, knocked me out, and ran. No explanation. No apology. Didn’t even try to talk things out with me instead of knocking me out.”

She began with a certain firmity to her voice which gradually crumbled away as she got louder and louder.

“Some of the other things, I could forget, but do you think I deserved that? Is that something a friend does? You think it was fun and games for me to get kicked out of the group that practically raised me from birth? Leave me there to rot without doing shit about it? And then I find out ‘it had to happen’ because of some wild important quest you had that’s apparently bigger than my little life, except you apparently can’t be bothered to even say a single gods damned sorry for months? Is that part right?”

I… yeah. I’d known this was going to suck. Not just because I was bad at confrontation, but because after I’d gotten some distance and had time to look back on everything more clearly… It really was a shittier thing to do than I’d appreciated while in the heat of everything.

Except I had thought about just talking to her. I was even thinking about telling her everything at the end there, it was just… just…

“It wasn’t me who knocked you out,” I whispered. The words slipped out, almost unbidden. I knew it wasn’t the most important part of it all. Didn’t really address the worst of what had happened to her. Maybe it was the moonshine starting to get to me, though, but it just bristled that a part of this shit she was hating me for wasn’t even something I’d done or wanted to do.

“Tess, there were only the two of us in that room. If it wasn’t you, then who the hells was it?” If nothing else, my words seemed to have transformed some of her growing rage into an unsteady sort of incredulity. She stared down at me as though I’d lost my mind.

For my part, I opened my mouth, only to leave it open, finding myself floundering.

It was Cal. Only, I definitely can’t say it was Calilah, the Princess of Ftheran. I could say it was the Shadow of Ftheran, but then again, the whole point of Cal using her invisibility skill is that she didn’t want anyone knowing that. I know she’s not exactly using that persona much anymore, but I’m not going to rat out my friend just to win some points with Nadja, am I? And besides, even if she believes me that the local legendary thief was helping me out, then she’ll know that the Shadow of Ftheran and I are connected. Wouldn’t be all that hard to put two and two together and figure out it’s the person from Ftheran that I’m traveling with, would it-

“Look at you. You can’t even come up with a convincing lie. I bring up the worst part of all of this, and you decide it’s time to try a cheap lie that’s so bad, you can’t even finish it. Hells. Hells.”

I made to stammer out a reply to that, but Nadja was having none of it.

“Nope. Out. I was dumb enough to even consider forgiving you a little. I heard how much the scepter helped everyone here and thought ‘she really hurt me and ruined the life I had, but maybe she’s not entirely rotten.’ And then you sat here and fed me some shitty pre-planned lies to get me on your good side. And the worst part is that I was listening! I was even considering that you might be telling the truth, even after you tricked me back in Ftheran!” She laughed while her eyes took on a watery sheen. “But NOPE! First time’s on you. I’m not letting you lie again this time. Out. Apology rejected. OUT.”

She flung her hand towards the door, and it was all I could do to stand out and start stammering out a reply. “Wait! It’s not-”

I can fix this. I just need a brief chance to explain that I wasn’t lying. Even just a few words.

“Fuck you and fuck off! You think I didn’t pick up any class skills? Try this! The Bar is Closed,” she gleefully yelled.

In the midst of trying to get a word in, I suddenly found myself yanked backwards off of my stool. I clumsily lunged for it, trying to anchor myself, but my hands failed to find purchase.

“Wait! Cancel! I’m really not-”

That was all I managed to get out before my body was ignominiously chucked through the door and back out into the forest.

“Are we… Are we serious?” What kind of class skill… Agh!

I tried to open the door, only to find it firmly locked. Neither banging nor shouting seemed to have any effect.

At least, they didn’t have any effect on the bar or on Nadja. For my part, I was feeling exhausted. Not only that, but also all the booze I’d guzzled in the last few minutes was finally starting to catch up to me, leaving me exasperated, tired, angry, and drunk.

“Damnit!” I yelled into the forest.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

My last conversation with Ava had already been trying. I’d botched it brutally and left feeling like an idiot. I’d hoped that I might at least go one for two with Nadja, but…

I think she hates me even more now. And I have absolutely no idea how to convince her I wasn’t lying. Or if she’ll even let me talk with her again.

Not getting anywhere with the closed bar (I briefly considered trying to full-on cut through the wall, but even drunk as I was getting, could understand what a bad idea that would have been), I stormed off.

I didn’t even know where I was going for a time until I found my addled brain almost subconsciously leading me in a particular direction: The housing area. One house in particular, in fact.

Oh. Damn. Okay, realizing Constitution alone isn’t enough to handle that much moonshine. I-

A helpfully unhelpful notification popped up to let me know that that sweet old liquor had made its way into my bloodstream at last, and I’d gone from tipsy to properly drunk in no time flat.

Not important! Don’t need sobriety for this. Making good choices.

Eventually I stumbled my way over to the houses, doing my best to not be too loud. It wasn’t yet so late that everyone was asleep, but a few early risers would have likely turned in for the night.

Do old dudes go to bed early? They do, right? That sucks.

I spotted a few people still out and about around the houses, and I flagged a few down, repeating the same question. “Heyy. Any chance you’ve seen my friend Barb? Like, old guy. Cool mustache. Likes to cut things with giant, freaking scissors.”

It was a reedy man with blonde hair who finally said yes. He eyed me skeptically -- no doubt wowed by my ability to act completely sober at all times -- before starting to walk off. I began to follow, but he stopped me, telling me to sit tight.

Nice. Thought I’d have to go into wherever Barb’s sleeping and bug him. Nice, nice, nice. Instead, I just got to sit!

Eventually, a familiar gray mustache faced me, along with the head it tended to accompany. My impromptu messenger had found my quarry.

“Tess!” he exclaimed. “You seem… Inebriated, perhaps? Am I to take it then that you’ve at least partially remedied your relationship with Miss Nadja?”

Bah. Bah. Exactly the wrong thing to say. Perhaps it was something about my face, because after a moment, something in his face shifted as he seemed to grasp the situation better.

“I want to hit things,” I admitted.

“Pardon?”

“I want to hit things!” The last few weeks had sucked! They’d drained me dry. Not even in a fighting way, either -- just conversation after conversation after ball after lesson after etiquette training after-

Suffice it to say, my social skill battery was dead.

I thought back to the conversation Barb and I had had earlier.

“I want to hit things,” I murmured one final time, swallowing a brief hiccup. “So let’s run the dungeon.”