As recompense, Saer gained isolation and cynicism.He had nothing.No friends.No kin.No love.Not even a direction to wander.
And so, he stood in a tavern, and contemplated letting it all go, if even for one night.
Saer held his hands out to the lumber within the tavern’s unlit, expansive fireplace, and paused.Arek and Alus’s—Greed and Gluttony’s—warnings played through his mind, the rules they had set up for one another.Never weaken oneself without a partner to oversee.The failsafe.The security.
He missed them, much as he hated to admit to himself.All of them.But if Lucifer even caught a hint of a whisper that Saer could teach them how to break one of their ties…
Saer couldn’t afford to make the same mistake, to risk his kins’ unmaking: Arek, Alus, Runeak, Kalia.Even Errshek, who he’d wanted to destroy prior to realizing Lucifer’s lies and manipulations.He’d made a vow to protect the family—he wouldn’t break it for the sake of satiating his own loneliness.Heneededto sever both bonds, to find true freedom before such a risk could even be considered.
A well-rounded ale mistress, the owner of the establishment, wiped down counters and steins with calloused hands as she prepared for the evening rush.She’d tucked her golden curls underneath a head rag, traces of gray in the strands.A handful of patrons spread between the multitude of wooden tables and chairs.The clock declared them between mealtimes; the alehouse wouldn’t be so empty for long.
“Son, it won’t light if you just stare at it.”
Saer raised his gaze to find the owner glaring at him and making a no-nonsense gesture at the inglenook borders.“Flint is there with some kindling.Make yourself useful and the first one is on the house.”
Saer gauged the maiden for another breath, then returned his focus to the fireplace with a deep frown.She grunted and turned away.
Just one night.
Fingers tensing then expanding with subtle briskness, Saer shoved all but the most essential of his Hellsfire vitality into the stack of logs.
The exploding roar surprised gasps and curses from those few in the establishment.The owner whirled around while Saer wavered where he stood, and he flashed her a languorous smile.“Fire’s going.”
The blaze died to pleasant and full crackling.
“...Right.”With a suspicious side glance, she ducked below the counter while Saer shuffled up to it.He leaned into the bar as she stood with a pitcher of ale, pouring him a healthy stein.Pushing the cup his way, she continued to size him up, letting him take a long draught before asking, “You one of those magic folk?”
Saer nearly choked on his drink.For some reason, newly lightheaded, the question struck him as comical.He cleared his throat, the first hits of alcohol already dancing into his nerves.“Just have a talent with fire, Miss...?”
“Sal is fine.”
“Miss Sal is fine.”Saer tipped his head towards her and lifted the mug.“This drink will need to be refilled.”To prove his point, he brought the receptacle to his lips and finished it off before placing it back in front of her with a questioning lift to his brows.
The middle-aged barmaid didn’t seem to be one normally charmed by anyone, yet her lip curled up at the corner in a cynical half-smile.“You got coin?”
Saer reached to his belt and pulled up a small drawstring bag of money, tossing it between the two of them.When she reached for it, he laid a hand smoothly over hers, catching her brown eyes with his.“There should be plenty for the evening, plus enough to keep banked for the future.I can tell you run a fine establishment here, Miss Sal is fine.”The second sentence landed exactly as he’d hoped, and when he sensed the mote of pride spark in her, Saer tugged it delicately to the surface.“Keep the drinks coming, and I’ll keep you in coin.”
Shoulders pulled back, lifting up a little straighter, Sal nodded.“I’ll let the crew know once they’re all here.”
Saer patted her hand and then pulled away.The owner refilled his mug dutifully and went on with confidence she hadn’t had a moment prior, her underlying charm coming through.“And what shall we call our finest patron this evening?”
Saer raised the full stein in a mock ‘cheers’ to Sal.“Saer will do.”
The evening at Sal’s started innocently enough.True to his word, Saer had enough funds to keep him in the cups for the night and then some.
He engaged with the patrons in ways rare for him, exchanging stories of foreign lands and tales at sea for more drinks.Card games were played, and Saer coerced his challengers to overbet with well-timed draws on their pride.A great many fools dared him to compete in tests of strength.
Even weakened, he never lost.
More than once, barmaids and ladies of the night approached him, touching his muscular arms and shoulders, running their fingers through his ebony hair.The first few times, he brushed them off with a chuckle and a shake of his head.It wasn’t until a voluptuous beauty with a storm of raven curls and brilliant green eyes slid her thumb and forefinger around his chin, compelling Saer to look at her, that he stopped to consider…
Then she kissed him, and he didn’t consider any longer.
Her lust pulsed against his mouth, slid along the back of his throat, and he dropped the reins he kept so tightly leashed on the power—the one which he stole from his beloved and unmade Neyu, rather than inherited.Ensnaring the woman’s lust proved simplicity itself, and she gasped against his mouth, her back arching to press more of herself against more of him.In a play of curiosity, he honed in on her pride as well, making her well and truly see herself as the most desirable, the best lover in the establishment.
Saer growled against her lips and demanded they find a room for themselves, challenging her to prove herself worthwhile of his time.
He meant it to be one night.
