Book 2: Chapter 52: Good Company

Book 2: Chapter 52: Good Company

Atticus slapped Elijah on the back and proclaimed, “You aren’t so bad of a guy, friend. And best of all, you’re rich! So you can buy dinner!”

“Uh...alright?” Elijah said, depositing a few crystalline leaves into his sack. They were guides that he’d bought that would hopefully shed some light on a few topics that were still a mystery to him. Those same guides had been available back in Ironshore, but they had been much more expensive. Vaguely, he remembered Ramik mentioning that Ironshore’s Branch had been imported, so perhaps that had something to do with the increased cost.

Whatever the case, with the prices of those guides, he felt like he was stealing. Unfortunately, there was almost nothing available on the Market, and there was only one town listed on the map, and it was at the very edge of the range. Still, it would give Elijah a good starting point for his continued search for his sister.

He had also added quite a few coins to his tally, especially after Atticus had paid him. He checked his folio:

Copper

Silver

Gold

Platinum

114

422

17

0

Even after buying the guides, Elijah was a lot richer than when he’d left Ironshore. He supposed that conquering a tower alone was a good way to earn money, though he was still unsure of how he was intended to spend his wealth. He had everything he needed – so far – and he had a feeling that acquiring new equipment and supplies would only grow easier as he progressed in levels.

“What do you suggest?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about Greek food.”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat, friend!” said the jovial Atticus. Despite shelling out quite a few coins, he was in a great mood. That probably meant that he’d gotten the better of Elijah in their dealings, but that wasn’t so concerning. He had plenty of money, after all, and he was more concerned with getting the items off his hands – especially the giant ogre staff – than he was about getting the absolute most money he could out of selling them. Still, he intended to make an attempt at contextualizing prices going forward; that way, he could avoid getting ripped off by less reputable merchants. “I know the best restaurant in Argo. The finest moussaka you’ll ever taste. You’ll see, friend. You will see.”

Elijah just nodded, saying, “Sounds good. I’ve never had moussaka.”

“Then you’re in for a treat!”

After that, Atticus dragged him from the building containing the Branch. It was located in a central location, but the structure itself was little different from the rest of the city. By the time they stepped out into the street, night had begun to fall, and as they strode along, Elijah noticed the prevalence of elderly women sitting on the buildings’ balconies. As they passed, they would lean in to one another, clearly gossiping about him. A few even pointed, making him feel incredibly self-conscious.

Atticus assured him that it was nothing to worry about. Instead, it was just a characteristic common among older Greek women. Even if he’d been absolutely normal – which he decidedly was not, considering his blonde hair and odd attire – he would have become a source of gossip.

Eventually, Atticus led him to a restaurant. In front of the building, there were a half dozen tables, at which various diners dug into their meals. Elijah didn’t recognize many of the dishes served, but he was no expert on Greek cuisine, so that was unsurprising. Atticus obviously knew the owner, because he greeted the portly, heavily bearded man with a jovial hug. He introduced Elijah as a good friend.

The owner – who was named Nikolas – escorted them to a private table in the back. There, Atticus and Elijah took seats on opposite sides.

“It’s nice, yeah?” Atticus asked.

“Better than anyplace I’ve eaten lately,” Elijah answered honestly. The last time he’d eaten a meal at a proper restaurant had been back in Norcastle, and even that had been the inn where he’d stayed. Before that, he’d had pizza with Jess the night before he’d left for the tower.

“That’s the spirit. So, what’s your story?” asked Atticus, leaning in eagerly.

“Who says I have a story?”

“Everyone has a story, friend. You’re more powerful than you have any right to be, you have special treasures I’ve never seen before, and you’re walking around out in the wilderness alone. If anyone has a story, it’s you,” he stated.

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you think it is?”

“Have you ever heard of the Nemean lion?”

“One of the twelve labors of Hercules, right?” guessed Elijah, intrigued.

“Indeed, friend. Impenetrable hide. Claws sharper than any mortal sword. Sprung from the moon goddess, Selene.”

“And you think this creature is here?” asked Elijah.

“We have history with the Nemean lion around here. Just north of here was the town of Cleonae, where the hero received his quest,” Atticus explained. “This system made monsters real. The hero Atlas slew a minotaur not three months past. Who says the system is not a tool of Olympus, eh? The gods are angry for moving on without them, and they sent their monsters to punish us.”

“You believe that?” asked Elijah, his dubiousness apparent.

Atticus shrugged, then grinned. “I’ve no idea, friend, but it’s as good an explanation as any, eh? Besides, something is killing people out there. That’s indisputable. So, the question remains – are you here to hunt our monster? I fear Atlas is already gone, and with him out of the picture...”

Elijah didn’t know how to respond. On the one hand, he had no issues hunting a monster. In fact, that seemed right up his alley. However, from his perspective, it was far more likely that the monster in question was just a guardian beast who was protecting its territory. In that case, there was no way Elijah would hunt it, even if it was killing people.

But there was another possibility for handling the situation, wasn’t there? What if he befriended the creature, then used Ancestral Circle to take it back to the grove? It would be difficult, but he’d done it before with Sara the dragon. Besides, the creature would probably be much happier in his grove, right?

It was certainly something to think about, and before Elijah even knew it, he had already decided to check it out. He was self-aware enough to know that part of that was due to what had happened to the bear. If he’d done the same for that guardian beast, it would still be alive.

“I can look into it,” he said. “But I can’t really guarantee anything. Chances are I won’t even find anything out there.”

“You will. I’m sure of it.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“A good feeling. Now, let’s drink!” he said, raising his mug of beer.

Elijah tried to beg off, but in the end, the boisterous merchant insisted. Fortunately, Elijah’s Constitution and Regeneration were high enough that beer really couldn’t inebriate him unless he went seriously overboard. Just to be sure, though, he continuously healed himself via Touch of Nature. He wanted to trust Atticus, but getting drunk with a stranger seemed far too reckless, even for Elijah.

So, he drank with the merchant, and as he did, he felt much of the tension he’d carried melt away. It wasn’t the alcohol, per se. Rather, it was just being around people who weren’t looking to exploit or kill him. In fact, there were moments when he felt like he was back home with his friends and coworkers, just hanging out and having a good time.

But before long, the night came to an end, and he helped a very unsteady Atticus back to his shop. Apparently, he lived on the floor above, so Elijah had no qualms about leaving the merchant to find his own way to bed. Meanwhile, he quickly found an inn where he rented a room from an annoyed innkeeper.

“Sorry about how late it is,” he said, sliding an extra couple of copper coins to the frowning woman. “I got caught up with a friend.”

She snorted. “Lose your shoes, too?”

“Uh...I don’t have any shoes.”

“That’s quite an oversight.”

Elijah looked down at his bare feet. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Then, he took the key from the crochety old woman and headed up the nearby stairs to the room he’d rented. To his surprise, there were no villains there to ambush him. No sudden issues. Nothing but a bed, a nightstand, and a pitcher of water. Over the next few minutes, he undressed, then used the pitcher of water to wash himself as best he could. He knew it was inadequate, but the small inn was the only place that was open so late. So, he figured that beggars couldn’t be choosers, and he made do with what he had.

Once he was done, he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep before more than a minute had passed.