Alyndra yawned as she made her way down the side street. The artisans' district was always tricky this time of year. She stomped through a puddle heedless of the mess it left – glancing to the side, her eyes narrowed – a leaking climate box was the cause. If there was one thing she knew, it was climate boxes.

  “Not today, Alyndra – we have more important things to do!” She threw her paw in the air as she did a hop, skip down the alley.

  It was Gobelin’s Day tomorrow, and this year she wanted it to be perfect. All her friends were going to be there – even Garzha, who was usually off traipsing through the deep swamp. Alyndra’s ears grew warm at the thought of seeing Garzha.

  It had been months, not since they’d shared their kiss beside the shamanic pools. Fenstalker hives were rare enough, but Garzha had found a rare variant deep in some unknown dungeon and saved the spoils just for the two of them. A close friend, rare honey, and a sweet kiss – Alyndra needed little else in her life – except maybe a good fight – now and then.

  Which brought her to this back-alley shop, known for its teas and tea-related accessories. Alyndra knocked twice in quick succession, a pause, followed by two more knocks in quick succession. The [Berzerker] glanced left and right, double-checking she was all alone in the alley, before opening the door and stepping through.

  Instead of the tea shop, she found herself in a dimly lit, smoke-filled room, the establishment’s flickering sign in the corner reading ‘Emeralds Emporium’ in orange neon. A few games of Go were taking place, and it looked like someone was about to lose a sack of gold, if the scowls and bags of winnings were anything to judge by.

  Garzha chuckled at Talon’s obvious irritation as Tanuki rose from their seat to bow in respect to the loser of the game. Talon gritted his teeth, “Kifu.”

  “Of course, it would be my honor – I think the turning point was when…”

  Alyndra stopped listening as Tanuki explained the finer points of the match; she was here on business after all.

  Alyndra approached the shop's L-shaped glass display counters, full of rare and unique items. Emerald looked up from the item she was inspecting. The turtlekin – the only one Alyndra had ever met – removed her monocle before polishing a stubby digit on her shop apron. She smiled through her sharp beak, at least Alyndra thought she did – it was hard to tell with beaked folk. Alyndra’s soft green skin was patterned with brown freckles, and despite her unreadable expression, her aura was always calm and soothing. Alyndra suspected the shopkeeper's aura was probably a way to ease unsuspecting patrons out of their coin, but – the System was the System.

  “Deep roots, Emerald.”

  “Deep roots, Alyndra, what brings you to my shop today? In need of some more dreamroot? I just got in a custom batch.”

  Alyndra pawed at the ground with her big toe, embarrassed to be known as the dreamroot girl – but it was an effective remedy for berzerkers like her.

  “Don’t worry about it, your secrets are safe with me, and besides, you shouldn’t be embarrassed – [Berzerker]’s are handy to have around, especially when things get tough.”

  “Thank you, Emerald – I came today looking for a gift, it's for someone special – I want to impress them.”

  “Ahh, a little something special for Gobelin’s Day, hmm, what did you have in mind?” She rocked her hand pad on the table, an inquisitive look on her face. Alyndra wondered how the shopkeeper could do anything without any thumbs.

  “Well, they’re in the Wayfarer’s guild –”

  “Ahh, hoping to pull their nose out of the dungeon and into your bedroll – I know just the thing.”

  Alyndra’s fur grew two shades brighter. Emerald chuckled to herself as she stooped below the counter, rummaging in what had to have been a dimensional storage.

  “Muck for saken, bog-brained…” Emerald cursed up a storm. The clatter of porcelain, a stack of collapsing…books?, an entire weapons rack toppling – she couldn’t tell what was going on down there. Alyndra coughed as she tried not to notice the racket Emerald was causing – her shell bobbing up and down, as she dug through her storage space.

  Alyndra took the time to shop around for an offering to leave for the Gobelins. It was traditional to go with a bit of milk, but she wanted to do something extra special this year.

  Alydnra smiled at the gift she’d procured. It was perfect. She placed a bowl of honeyed milk in the window, along with a wrapped gift for the house spirits. She wasn’t a believer, but couldn’t deny the offerings would be gone in the morning; it was probably the System – like everything else.

  Alyndra picked up Garzha’s gift and ushered herself out the door – it was getting late, and she didn’t want to miss a second with her friends. This would be the first time they were all together since…

  As the door snapped shut behind Alyndra, a tiny pink hand covered in white fluff reached in through the open window, snatching the milk dish. Moments later, the empty dish was replaced, and the gift snatched up.

  Outside the window, a young garbage gibbon – by their standards – sat wedged between Garzha’s trash can and her home. Their eyes shone brightly at the neatly wrapped package.

  What could it be? How did they use it? Was there a lid? They should take it to one of the elders; surely, they would know what to do with it. No, that wasn’t right – this was meant for them, and it was their duty to figure out what to do with the gift.

  Pixy loved living here; there was always plenty of trash to be had – good trash to, not that clean, organized stuff some gibbons had to deal with. Nope, the messier the better – after all, gibbons were recyclers – and the more wear and tare, the easier something could be broken down into its base component.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Ohh, the strata gibbons could be exceptionally touchy on the subject, if you gave them anything more than a C grade – well, Pixy didn’t want to think about it.

  She reached up and scratched behind her ear with her footpaw, while turning the small package around in her tiny pink fingers – when she sneezed. Her footpaw reflexively jerked down, catching on an edge of the package, tearing the paper free on one side.

  Pixy stared down in horror – ruined, the gift had been wasted. The gibbon looked down at her footpaw, and her eyes narrowed.

  Alyndra adjusted her cape and brushed her paws across a patch of disheveled belly fur – it was always the same spot. Sighing, she gave up, took a deep breath, and pushed her way into the tavern.

  Golden light spilled out into the street along with the sounds of laughter and the smell of freshly baked bok casserole. As she stepped across the threshold, Krogh appeared as if by magic, a smile on his face as his tongue flicked out and across a lidless eye. “Deep roots, Alyndra.” The frogkin stepped forward, offering his forearm.

  Alyndra gripped it with her paw, her eyes moving around the room, searching for Garzha. Krogh was explaining something to her, but she’d stopped listening, her eyes locked on two figures in the corner of the room. Garzha was fawning all over Kythan; she could barely keep her fists off of him, as the two inspected something on the table – probably a gift from the cranekin. Kythan always was the cool one.

  So instead of delivering her gift, she dropped it on a nearby table with some others – allowing Krogh to guide her to a seat by the fire. He brought her a cup of mulled wine, and she sipped while doing her best to listen as he regailed her with tales from his latest adventure.

  Frogkin did have the most interesting adventures, it was true – after all, they had an entire underwater city, unreachable by most in the Mire – swimming through miles of muck, grime, and slime while not being devoured by a gnashcale, wasn’t most people's idea of a good time.

  Someday she’d like to go, and maybe Krogh could take her, but there was a whole ritual process to entering Lilyopolis, and Alyndra just wasn’t that interested. Her eyes flicked to the corner where Garzha and Kythan sat–

  A pair of fists wrapped her from behind as a warm cheek pressed to the side of her face, Garzha. Alyndra’s heart was aflutter as she stammered out an incoherent sentence. Finally, she gave up and reached for her cup of mulled wine, offering it up to Garzha, who was empty-fisted.

  Garzha laughed and accepted graciously before plopping herself down in the seat next to Krogh, “So, how have you been, Aly – I haven’t seen you since…

  The muscular orc offered a fanged smile as she adjusted her topknot.

  “Well, I think you remember the last time we saw each other – sorry I haven’t been around since, it's just I’ve been so busy lately – I was just telling Kythan about my trip to the Broken Lands–”

  Pixy pulled their foot out of their mouth; it had received enough punishment – for now. An idea struck the adolescent forager – what if the skin was supposed to come off the gift? After all, some of the best scraps weren’t too dissimilar.

  Picking up the small cube-shaped gift, she inspected the flap of skin before carefully pinching it between two fingers and, every so gingerly, pulled it away. Her heart skipped a beat every time the skin tore a little further, but no angry elders pulled themselves from the aether – so it must be alright.

  As each piece of skin was torn away, Pixy tucked it into her hidy and started on the next section. When she was all done, Pixy realized she had a new problem – what was she holding if the skin was the gift?

  Her face lit up as she realized her comrade had left her two gifts! A twinkle in her eye and a small bead running down her cheek, Pixy was in the Underoot; she must be – this was too good to be true. Scratching her head, she just needed to figure out what the second gift was for; the first was easy to figure out – clearly materials for the strata, but this…

  Alyndra kicked a rock out of her path as she sauntered home – she’d never found the right moment to give her gift to Garzha – the orc couldn’t seem to stop talking about Kythan.

  “Hey, Aly, wait up – aren’t you forgetting something?”

  The [Berzerker]’s eyes narrowed, enough was enough – Garzha had to stop toying with her. She turned around, ready to give the orc an earful, only to see her smiling friend holding her hand out, displaying a neatly wrapped gift.

  “I got this for you.”

  …

  Alyndra didn’t know what to say, “Thanks – I, what is it?”

  Garzha laughed in the throaty, deep yet feminine way only she could do – Alyndra’s stomach climbed into the back of her mouth.

  “Open it, you big furball.”

  Alyndra looked away in embarrassment as she unwrapped the gift. It was a small leatherbound tome, wrapped in a bit of chorde, the words ‘A Practical Guide to Dreamwalking’ etched across the cover.

  “I thought you might like it. I found it on my last dungeon dive – Yuki used to talk about [Dreamwalkers] all the time, she claimed they were the most powerful class. But most don’t have the mental discipline to make it. Anyway, I know that as a [Berzerker] you’re the most mentally disciplined person I know – so I thought who better than you.”

  She finished her speech with a flourish and a bow.

  Alyndra was truly flustered now and attempted to stammer out a reply, but before she could manage a reply, Garzha pulled out a small box.

  “By the way, thank you for my gift, I love it!

  She opened the box, displaying two golden rings.

  “I was hoping for an explanation. I’m sure they’re enchanted.”

  Alyndra nodded eagerly, “Yes, of course – one is for you and the other is for a child, it lets them know if you’re safe or not, I know you were worried about having a kid…with your explorer’s lifestyle.

  Alyndra pawed the back of her neck.

  “It gives you each a small buff, so long as the other wears the piercing.”

  Garzha wrapped her friend in a hug, lifting the massive bearkin off the ground – her paws kicking helplessly at the air.

  “Come on, take me inside, I want to show you my new swords.”

  As the two closed the door to Alyndra’s house, Pixy poked her head from around the corner – her eyes moving between the box in her hand and the street where the two had stood moments before.

  Very carefully, Pixy gripped the box on either side of the split that ran around it, gently pulling as she’d seen her comrade do.

  Inside a strange piece of cloth symmetrical on both sides, the material was covered in a floral pattern – titan flowers.

  Pixy sighed. This was getting to be very complicated. She scratched her head, deep in thought. Behind her, a tear in reality, an opening to the void, she froze – what had she done wrong? This was her gift after all.

  An adult gibbon's hand reached through the void, plucking the bowtie from the box, pinning the thing to her neck fur, before receding into the void – sealing the tear behind it.

  Pixy felt at her neck with two tiny paws, before dancing over to a puddle. She stared back at her reflection – utterly confused about why she would pin recycling to her fur?

  Oh well, at least she had the D-grade skin to use.

  https://www.patreon.com/cw/prometheusrites_