Chapter 46: Chapter 46: The inn

Chapter 46: The inn

Ares managed to get out of his little pickle, by jetting the gnomes into the wide blue sky. One gnome at a time. Yet, for some reason, he could not find any word on the demon lady. Perhaps, before he took his boot to the little squeaky-voiced humanoids, he should have asked them for directions?

I have been walking for the past five hours. Finally, I see a city. In typical fantasy world fashion, it has tall walls, and looks like a postcard from the Dark Ages. Typical.

I get through, even though the guards ask me if I am an exotic dancer. I shake my head no. Even though, I can dance with the best of them.

Now, I am walking around aimlessly, searching for a place to grab a bite to eat. If I know anything about fantasy worlds, then that is that they have inns in them.

A sort of club/restaurant mix, where some poor lute chaser strings his… wait, are there children reading this? I can't say so before children. Hehe.

Anyway, after another hour of walking, I am before an inn. Now, one might ask, why do I not go to the castle? I am a god, and they won't turn me away. Or, won't they turn me away because I am an Ultimate Hero of Fate?

And who come up with something as cheesy as Ultimate Hero of Fate? Does that person not know that there are at least 10 of them in this fantasy world alone? Just what is so ultimate about them?

So, I open the door to the inn, and walk in. No, not walk. Strut in. Because, if you have it, you have to flaunt it. I get a couple of lustful gazes my way, which I ignore.

Well, there is just one person that is not undressing me with their eyes. A blonde man, tall, but not taller than me. Broad shoulders, hunched over on a stool. Hm, I wonder how his face looks like.

I slide in the stool next to him, and wave over the bartender.

"Hello, I would like the special," I say, wanting to appear in the known, without ousting myself as someone who doesn't know shit about the culture of this world.

"Sure, hun. I would like for you to pay upfront," the perky brown-haired bartender says, and I take out a couple of the things that the slimes back in the cave dropped. I pile them on the table, and then look up at her.

She looks ready to burst out laughing.

"Sorry, hun. This is not the adventurer's guild. You can't pay in loot," she giggles then, a wonderful bell chime of a giggle. The man who is next to me takes out a pouch, a heavy one, and then takes out three coins.

"Just give him the special, and something heavy to wash it down with, Carole. It is Yule, and slaying slimes is hungry work," he turns towards me, finally, and my breath hitches.

This is an angel. No, I am not saying so, just because he bought me a meal. His face, so cherubic, yet, with a hardness to it. His eyes, like shimmering sapphires. And those dimples.

He gives me a wink, and then goes back to his drink.

"Oh, you are still very gracious, my prince. I will go bring him the special and some ale right away," Carole says, and I begin to pick up my trash. I mean, loot.

"If you want to make the slime slaying worth it, then you need to get to the adventurer's guild. They will exchange you some good money, for your loot," the man takes his cup, and drinks deeply. I am mesmerized by the bobbing of his Adam's apple.

"Here you go, hun," Carole comes back with a tray full of meat, and some potatoes. My eyes widen at that.

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"Your special is enough to feed an army," I say, amazed.

Now, I know for a fact that in a fantasy world, farms are few and far between. Most of the people earn their money by adventuring. And so, I wonder just from where this inn got all this meat. I turn towards the prince by my side.

"Have you eaten? We could share this meal," I suggest, and then look at Carole. "Where are the forks?"

She blinks at me.

"A what now?" She asks, and I realize that in this fantasy world, there are no forks.

"Never mind," I say, and then pick a pork rib from the platter. The prince picks up a potato, and begins to gobble it whole. I am impressed at how his mouth can stretch. Impressed, and intrigued.

Yet, one thing worries me. The prince looks… young. Too young to be in a bar, by himself. So, after I have eaten my rib, I look him straight in the eyes.

"How old are you?" Because, I am many things, but a pedophile is not one of them.

"I turned 18 just yesterday. What does this have to do with anything?" He asks, and my shoulders ease up.

"Nothing, nothing. Just asking, is all. So, rough birthday?" I want to know what made a prince go down to a tavern to drink his sorrows. Because, I know the look on his face. He does have sorrows.

"It is just that… my parents don't understand, ok? I would like to become an adventurer, a hero, like dad. I don't want to be the next king, just because papa would like to retire to a tropical island. Back when I was on the shelf, things were so much simpler," he tells me with a sigh.

"Well, what do you bring to the table?" I ask him. Maybe, he could know where the lair of the demon lady is?

"Apart from my dashing good looks, and my money?" His eyes are twinkling with mischief, and I congratulate myself to getting him to be playful, even for a while.

"Apart from your fine personality, yes," I still don't want to be a babysitter, though.

"I have a dragon. Well, technically, it belongs to my parents, but they have never risen a finger for Valeric," the prince says, and the twinkle is gone.

"Yeah, but can you fight?" I ask him, and he moves his cloak away, so he could uncover the mace strapped to his hip.

"I can bash skulls with the best of them," and now, those lovely lips are in a feral smile. I have always liked the bloodthirsty. After all, I am a god of war.

Ares and Allyn must train. Mostly because Ares wants to have his lightning throwing powers back. And between them, a friendship begins to bloom. A friendship, which ends up into something more.

But that is a story for another day…

To be continued?

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