Chapter 14: Chapter 14: Please no solicitation unless you’re here to deliver a box of frogs

“Not interested,” says Hineni, slamming the door back shut. A knocking comes again and he sighs loudly, hoping that the man on the other side of it can hear him doing so. “Go away!”

 

“Sir!” calls the representative of some noble guild up in the fancy part of town. “This is a great honor!”

 

Hineni rolls his eyes. That’s the fourth time he’s been told that so far by some random, fancy-pants who has come knocking on his door. The ‘fancy-pants’ part is literal. He tears the door back open, pointing at the man. Though he can’t help but let his eyes wander down to stare at the man’s puffy, very colorful pants made out of a fabric that probably costs more than a good chunk of his house, if not all of it. “Your weird air-god never cared about me before I became a proselyte, so your offer doesn’t seem genuine. Please leave.”

 

“Sir, I’m a follower of Avorous, the god of wealth!” repeats the man. Hineni shrugs, look out at him through the slit beneath his wizard's hat. “You must accept this invitation,” insists the stranger, shoving the sealed letter towards him with both hands.

 

“No, thank you.”

 

“Sir, please!” repeats the man, shoving the letter towards him again. The driver of the man’s carriage behind him looks on impatiently. The carriage is, of course, ludicrously extravagant. Very out of place in this neighborhood. “Of course the god of wealth wasn’t interested in you before! You were poor!”

 

Hineni blinks, lifting his arms to gesture at broadly everything all around himself. “I don’t know what I should even say to that. Goodbye.” He slams the door shut, sighing again as he walks away, hoping to finally get some peace and quiet at his table now. What a morning.

 

Of course, he’s still poor. But saying it like that seems rude and honestly, maybe he’d have more free space in his ears for the words of the god of wealth if he had maybe ever put said wealth to good use in this neighborhood, or anywhere at all, instead of just hoarding it.

 

“Many! Many!” hoots Obscura, peeking out from beneath the table she is hiding below in the form of a small owl. “Many want my Hineni!”

 

He tilts his head, looking at her. “It’s only because you chose me. Nobody wanted me before,” says the man, walking past her to his table.

 

“Special Hineni!” says Obscura, flying out from under the table. “Obscura chose well! She has eyes that see! Real eyes!”

 

“Uh… doesn’t everyone?”

 

“Not like Obscura’s! Hineni gives good gifts!” says the owl, landing on the table. She sways her head around in a circular motion as she goes on. “Hineni catches strong frogs! Hineni makes good, good weapons!” says the owl.

 

“I think they just want me because you want me,” says Hineni.

 

“Who~” she hoots.

 

“Who~,” he agrees, nodding as he sits down at the table, looking down at the steaming full mug of tea. It isn’t good tea, honestly. But he appreciates that Obscura is trying, so he makes a note to try hard at work tonight too, when the forge gets running. “It’s not uncommon,” says the man, sipping his tea. “Head-hunters, you know?” he asks. Obscura shakes her head, spinning it around in a full turn straight backwards each time. The man turns his gaze out towards the window, watching the many groups of people walk by and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t really feel a strong desire to be a part of any of them. “If you’re a prosi, that means you’ve been vetted by someone to be of value,” explains Hineni. “It means that the other gods know that a god chose me, so if I’m good enough for you, I must be good enough for them,” he says, sipping his tea. “It’s just greed.”

 

Obscura’s body stretches out long and lengthwise as she slides from the table-top, down onto her bench, taking the shape of the half-human creature which he hadn’t seen since last night. Feeling his face go flush, Hineni clears his throat and turns back to the window again. “Hineni forgets,” says Obscura. “Hineni is trusting. Kind,” hoots the owl. “They will eat Hineni for that.”

 

“Huh?” he asks, looking back her way. That seems like a rather grim prediction.

 

“They don’t want you, because I want you,” says Obscura. “They want you, so that I can’t have you,” she explains.

 

Hineni stares at the window and then down at his tea for a while, before turning his gaze towards her. That’s a rather pragmatic, if not egoistic view of the world. Is that kind of game really being played here?

 

“Can I ask you something?” asks Hineni. “It’s not meant to be rude. I just need to know.” Obscura nods. “Who are you?” he asks. “Why wouldn’t the other gods want me to work for you?” Hineni tilts his head, staring at her. “At least from the people I’ve spoken to, nobody has ever heard of an owl-god,” says Hineni. “Or, uh, goddess.”

 

“We are,” says Obscura, pointing at herself and then him. “From outside,” she says, pointing towards the window. But not at the ‘outside’, rather, she is pointing at the people there. “Hineni does not belong to them,” says the owl-goddess, before pointing back at herself. “Obscura does not belong to them.”

 

He nods, thinking he understands. So she’s just literally some obscure goddess, like he himself is some obscure human. One is as legitimate as the other. That explains one thing, but…

 

“But why don’t they want me to work with you?” he asks. Obscura opens her mouth to answer.

 

*DHUNK* *DHUNK* *DHUNK*

 

The door rattles as someone knocks on it again. Hineni groans, getting up. That’s visitor number five. Three he could have lived with, but five is too many. Maybe another one will come later, and it’ll wrap back around to six? Six is a good number of unwanted visitors to have. It’s just three, but twice. But…

 

The man stops in his tracks, thinking. No. He needs nine visitors today. Nine. Nine is three times three. He stands there, staring vacantly at the floor as he realizes what he’s thinking about. He’s really been infected by the odd ‘three’ thing. Shaking his head, he walks to the door and yanks it open. “I’m not interested. Thank you,” says Hineni, straight off.

 

“Hineni, chosen of the owl-god?” asks the man, who has, objectively speaking, much less fancy-pants than the last. In fact, he has a robe on.

 

“Please leave. I’m not interested in your god,” he says, eyeing the white-robed man up and down. But the white isn’t some bright, pure, spring-shine glowing fabric. Rather, it’s a drab, quiet tone of white. Like a burial cloth.

 

The man, some kind of priest, bows. “My master has summoned you.”

 

“Not interested.”

 

The priest lifts his head, looking up from his lowered position. “This is not a request.”

 

Hineni raises an eyebrow, looking back at Obscura, who has shifted back into the form of a small owl again, and then back towards the man. This is certainly a tone that none of the others had tried. “Are you with the guard?” asks Hineni.

 

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“I am but a humble servant,” says the priest, lowering his head again.

 

“Then I don’t need to listen to you. Bye,” says Hineni, slamming the door shut. He turns to walk away, taking exactly three steps before the expected knocking comes again. He ignores it this time, letting out a third loud, theatrical sigh.

 

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Hineni stares at Obscura who is prancing around the kitchen that has now dried out after the flood. She’s collecting all sorts of ingredients, having decided that she is going to try to cook again today. The man tilts his head, watching her pour a handful of nuts into a bowl, before leaning over and staring at them, as if she was expecting something to happen all by itself.

 

Feeling him watching, she turns her head and looks at him and Hineni quickly looks away, averting his gaze to the rest of the room that is still thankfully intact and spared of any damage, from either fire or water. At least as far as his untrained eyes can see. He frowns. Now that he’s had a chance to sleep on it, he feels kind of bad about being such an ass to the water-girl. She was just a kid and she did save his house from burning down.

 

The man rubs his head, looking around the empty kitchen. It’s far too big for even the two of them, having been built once in days long since past, to serve hundreds of people every single night. Now, only one stove is ever used and even that only sparsely. The mountains of pots and pans are filled so deeply with dust that even Obscura in her obsessive cleaning spree after her arrival didn’t manage to scour all of them.

 

It’s empty.

 

There was a feeling here once, but as he looks around the room, he realizes that it isn’t here anymore. It’s empty.

 

His gaze lowers down to an overturned, lustrously polished pot in which he sees a distortion of his own reflection, beneath the smear left by a small boot-mark. Leaning down, he stares at it much like Obscura had done with the nuts only a moment ago. There’s something about it. About that look in his eyes that matches the aura of the room.

 

It’s empty.

 

Hineni pulls himself upright, realizing something. Just like when he had yelled at Obscura and apologized to her, he had yelled at the stranger but has so far, failed to apologize.

 

“Hey,” he says to her. “I’m going into town. I’ll be right back.”

 

“Hineni brings frogs?” she asks, becoming excited.

 

“Not tonight I think,” he says. “I’m just going to the adventurer’s guild.”

 

Obscura widens her eyes, pointing at the bowl angrily. “I am cooking! Cooking!” she hoots.

 

He nods. “You are cooking,” he repeats, so it has been said three times. “I’m not buying dinner. Don’t worry. Be right back.” With that, he walks out of the kitchen and into the hall, donning his coat, yellow scarf and wizard-hat, adjusting both of them to fit tightly before stepping out of the door. He jiggles it before leaving and then heads towards the adventurer’s guild, trying to think of what to say to the stranger.

 

“Sorry that I was rude,” he mumbles under his breath, trying to practice. No. No… that doesn’t sound sincere at all. He clears his throat, but still never speaks in a tone higher than a tiny whisper that can’t even manage to leave the fabric of his scarf. “Thank you for helping me the other day. I’m sorry that I was an asshole.” He fumbles with his hands in his pockets. No… that one is too wordy.

 

Ugh. Talking to people is so hard.

 

The man stops in the middle of the empty street, looking back over his shoulder towards the door to his home that he can still see from here. He could just go back? It’s probably fine anyways, right? The kid probably found a group and moved on already and he doesn’t want to seem desperate and weird after all…

 

A soft wind blows down the road from behind him, scattering fallen leaves all down the street. The last of the autumn foliage, having now come down to the world, lies strewn all around him; ghosts of the now ending season. The wind continues to blow, it continues to push against him, as if nudging him forward, as if coaxing him to move out and into the world.

 

It’s time to grow up, right?

 

Hineni looks back ahead of himself and keeps walking.

 

“Sorry,” is all that he says. But this time, it wasn’t even to practice. It was just the thing he had to say, to himself, to everything that he had allowed himself to become. It’s only fair of him to do so, before he lets that person go, once and for all. Lifting his gaze, Hineni clenches his fists in his pockets and walks towards the adventurer’s guild, feeling the wind at his back.

 

Even as he reaches the door, he doesn’t lower his eyes and even as he steps inside of the adventurer’s guild, he doesn’t lower his eyes and even as he walks past the surprised, elven receptionist, who seems to scare herself a little during her process of waking up, given her effort to catch her own balance on her chair, and stares out over the busy room, Hineni doesn’t lower his eyes. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t.

 

The crowd has yet to notice him, lost in their revelry as always and he scans the room, searching for a hint of azure blue. Sure enough, he finds it eventually. The kid is walking up to a table that some party is sitting at. She seems to be asking the man there something, but he just lifts a hand and flicks her forehead with his metal-gauntlet still on, before shoving her away and looking back to his laughing party.

 

The blue wizard rubs her forehead, sulking as she walks away to try her luck at another table. Hineni looks at the man. What a jerk, that must have really hurt.

 

That thought makes him stand there for a moment, as slowly but surely, the first people begin to notice him and begin to grow excited.

 

“That must have really hurt, huh?” he mutters to himself beneath his scarf. That’s what he did too. He’s no better. He walks through the crowd, ignoring the excited hands reaching out for him and the people who get up and begin to circle him, ignoring the excited voices trying to reach him, all of them after the same thing. As he steps towards them, never breaking his stride with his eyes held up high, the encircling mob steps away instinctively. The bubble of people always moving with him, rather than hindering him, until eventually, he makes his way to the splash of blue in the room.

 

Still crying and rubbing her forehead, the water caster looks up at him.

 

“Hey,” says Hineni, honestly not really sure what it is that he’s doing anymore. But it seems to be working so far. The two of them stand there for a second, surrounded by the voices of the many as he takes off his glove and reaches down with a scarred hand. “Sorry that I was a dick,” he says, apologizing.

 

Rhine blinks, staring at him, entirely lost.

 

“I mean.” Hineni clears his throat, deciding that he has to do better if he wants to make a sincere apology. “Rhine the river-wizard, the owl-god has need of you and your services,” he recites, picking one of the many lines he himself had been told by solicitors this last week. But he modifies the end, changing it from a demand to a simple, honest question. Sure, he’s nervous and sweaty. Sure, his heart feels like it’s going to fly out of his chest at any second. But now, for the first time, as he asks it, Hineni feels oddly light on his feet. His scars feel oddly cool and painless and the words that come out of his mouth do so freely and with no tension or fear. “Wanna go catch some frogs?” asks the man.

 

Rhine stares at him for a long, confusing moment. “I… uh, yeah!” is all that Rhine replies with, yelling far too loudly, having lost control of her voice.

 

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