Chapter 25: Brunch

 Allan: Healer hopeful, kitchen helper. Might be getting the flu. 

Augustine and I finish the kebab. A wonderful meal full of red peppers, onions, mushrooms, and homegrown green herbs, the strongest of which is the basil. My stomach grumbles, and I blush. 

"So, you are staying for the brunch, aren't you? I'd like to introduce my party to you, partner," Augustine says, and I bite my lower lip. 

"I wouldn't want to intrude," I say, and it is true. I mean, Dean will be there, right?

He paid off my debt, so he can move away from me. Burned all the bridges between us, and...

"My party partners want to meet you. And there is another thing. Why didn't you tell me that you didn't have a place to stay?" Augustine asks, a frown marring his normally serene face. 

He has the kind of face the Madam would have done anything to get in the brothel.

"Well, answer me," Augustine demands, when I end up just staring into his eyes. 

"The inn doesn't give rooms to... prostitutes," I say, and he balls his fists. 

"But you are no longer one, right?" He asks. I nod at that. 

"Yes, I am free. Working together with you in the kitchen is a joy," I blurt out. It is the truth, too. Augustine knows what I was, but doesn't treat me differently. He sees a human being, and not...used goods. 

"We are talking about your problems. We are talking about them now," Augustine demands. I can't help but admire him for his drive. He can face any situation, and come off on top. 

I bet he wouldn't have ended up in debt to his ears, had he been in my shoes. 

But he is kind, smart, and crafty. And I am... me. 

"What you went through wasn't your fault," he continues, when I keep my silence. "When you are ready to tell me why you ended up where you did, I'll listen. But there are a couple of things I want you to know." 

I nod, wanting him to speak his mind. There is this state in every person's life, when they can't be anything but honest. That state comes with anger. 

However, is his anger directed at me? Or, for me? 

"You are a wonderful human being, Allan. I have never seen anyone pick up on recipes quite as fast. You are also an honest and good sort. All of my harem members bullshitted me at one point or the other. You came clean. I want you to know, that this means the world to me," Augustine might have said more, but then the doorbell rings.

I look at the set table, at the extra plate that is just placed innocently there. There is just as much food in it as in the others. A glass with juice is set by it. The bread basket is within grabbing distance of it. 

My plate. At the same spot, on which I ate this morning, and the morning before...

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"I think they are here. Make yourself comfortable. I will bring everyone here," Augustine says, as he rushes past me. I go, and sit on the chair that I know is on his right. On his left is the head of the table, a place still taken by Thomas. 

And Margie sits by Thomas, just like I sit by Tine. 

I don't dare shorten his name when I speak to him. A part of me is afraid to shorten his name, even when I think about him. But there are moments when I just can't help it. When I feel such warmth in my chest at the nickname, that I want to sing it to him, as he falls asleep. 

That is dangerous territory. He has lovers already. Ones that pull their own weight. What can I bring to the table? 

Dean is the first one to enter the room, followed by a Naga, and a silver-blonde archer type. Next, Thomas and Margie come inside, and they take their seats. Dean gives me a soft, almost fond, smile when he sees me. 

"Hey," he greets me. I do my best to smile at him. I owe him so much, that I will never be able to repay him. "How are you?" 

"I am well. Augustine is a great boss," I tell him. Dean sighs then, and looks at Augustine. 

"Boss? Seriously now? Didn't you say he is to be your partner? With equal rights, and privileges?" Dean asks. 

"I try to tell him that this is what he is, but he insists on calling me his boss," Augustine says, as he sits by me. His shoulder brushes mine, and he gives me a soft smile. "Allan helps make food, unlike all of you." 

"Here he goes again," the Naga groans. His mana is a bit strange. Almost as if...my eyes widen. 

"Augustine, this is a dungeon core," I grip his arm. In a fight, there is not much I can do.

"How did you know?" Augustine asks, and then his face brightens. "You are a mana sensor! Do you even know how rare those are?" 

I blink at that. Everyone stares at me, and I shrink in on myself then. 

"Uhm..." is the only thing I can make out. Mana sensors? Aren't the people with these abilities more...heroic? Unlike me, that is.

"I can see it now. He really has the ability," the Naga says. "I have some news for you, but I doubt you'd like them." 

I pale at that. Trying to remember every small detail about mana sensors, a dread pulls into my stomach. 

"Your mana has the faintest traces of a dungeon's mana to it. I think that one of your parents was a dungeon core," the raven-haired Naga says, flipping my world on its axis. I look around the room, and my eyes land on Augustine. 

Instead of a disgusted face, I see a face lightened by a grin.