Celeste

  I nodded toward the empty chair across from me. “You might as well sit. You’ve already caused enough of a scene.”

  Lioren’s grin widened. “Don’t mind if I do.” He dropped into the chair with the easy sprawl of someone who’d never learned the meaning of shame, then threw an arm up toward the bar.

  “Oi! Two more here! Her drink’s on the floor, and mine’s feelin’ lonely!”

  A few heads turned, but the barkeep only grunted and went to fill the order. Lioren leaned back in his seat, still grinning like he owned the place. “There now. Can’t have you sittin’ here empty-handed. Bad luck, that.”

  I glanced around the room. “What about Brenn? You said you came through together, but I don’t see him.”

  Lioren gave a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “He’s upstairs, enjoyin’ that warmer bed I mentioned. Told me he was tired, but from the sound of it, he’s working on stayin’ that way.”

  I huffed a laugh, shaking my head.

  The barkeep set the two mugs on the table with a dull clatter. Foam spilled down the sides, and the sharp scent of ale rose between us. Lioren slid one toward me and lifted his own in an easy toast.

  Lioren took a drink, foam clinging to his grin. “Saints, woman, you’ve got a strange sense of direction. Last I heard you were bound north with the Brotherhood, and now you’re sittin’ in this shithole. What happen?”

  I didn’t bother dancing around it. “I lost his trail,” I said, fingers tracing the rim of my mug. “I found the soldiers he’d been with, but there were only half as many left. The conscripts weren’t there.” I paused. “Neither was he.”

  “You did what you could, love,” he said after a moment, voice low. “No shame in somethin’ when the trail runs cold. The world’s cruel enough without you draggin’ yourself through the ashes.”

  The silence stretched. I stared into my mug, watching the faint ripple of light across the surface.

  Then he smirked, tipping his mug toward mine. “So you lost the trail, ended up in a tavern, and called it strategy. Can’t say I blame you. Half my best plans started the same way.”

  “If drinking counted as strategy,” I said, “you’d be a Major by now.”

  He barked a laugh, loud enough to draw a glance from the table beside us. “Don’t tempt me. I’ve led more hopeless charges than most Majors I’ve met.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  He grinned into his drink, still amused with himself.

  I tilted my head, watching him over the rim of my mug. “So tell me, Major, how’d a man like you end up with the Brotherhood anyway?”

  He leaned back, feigning offense. “A man like me?”

  “The kind who’d salute a tavern sign like you were reporting for duty.”

  He let out a bark of laughter, half choking on his ale. “You wound me, love… but you’re not wrong.”

  The grin softened, and for once he didn’t rush the answer. “Truth is, I was a wanderer long before the Brotherhood ever heard my name. Drifted from one town to the next, takin’ whatever work I could. Guard a caravan here, chase a bandit there, haul lumber, mend fences, whatever kept my boots from fallin’ apart.”

  He turned his mug in slow circles on the table. “Most days I earned enough for a meal, a bed, and drink. Some days, just the drink.”

  “That sounds familiar,” I murmured.

  “Aye,” he said, flashing a crooked grin. “But at least I was honest about it.”

  He took another long pull from his drink before continuing. “One night, I find myself in this tiny village somewhere near Thalor’s border. Couldn’t tell you its name now if I tried. Ended up spendin’ the night with a woman there. Pretty thing, sharp eyes. Didn’t mention she was married. Least not ‘til after.”

  I arched a brow. “Let me guess. Her husband wasn’t the forgiving type.”

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  Lioren laughed, shaking his head. “Not even close. Seems she’d had a spat with him over his own wanderin’ ways, so she figured a little revenge might set things straight. Didn’t tell me that part ‘til her husband showed up the next mornin’ with six of his best friends. And because the saints like a bit of comedy, the bastard turned out to be a Wind Caster.”

  I shook my head, trying not to smile. “So that’s when the Brotherhood stepped in and saved you, I suppose?”

  “Saved me?” His grin turned wicked. “Saints, no. Dropped the lot of ‘em quicker than trousers in a brothel.”

  I laughed in my cup. “You?”

  He leaned forward, eyes bright. “You forget, love, I’m an Ice Caster. Not much reach to it, but it hits like a mule if you use it right. Dull’d the Ice before Castin’. Didn’t fancy skewering anyone over bad manners. Stunned the first one, froze the second’s hand to his own blade. The rest got their heads cooled proper.”

  He took another drink, looking far too pleased with himself. “Didn’t kill a single one. I’m not the sort to spill blood over a misunderstandin’.”

  “Misunderstanding?” I said, amused.

  “Aye,” he said with mock solemnity. “Man picks a fight over his own mistakes, that’s on him. I just helped him sleep it off.”

  I shook my head, hiding my smile behind the rim of my mug. “So you call that mercy?”

  “Course it is,” he said, raising his mug like a toast. “Mercy with a headache attached.”

  He chuckled, setting his mug down. “No. I hadn’t ran into the Brotherhood ‘til later.”

  I tilted my head. “Later?”

  “Aye. Seems the husband wasn’t done makin’ a fool of himself. Once his pride stopped bleedin’, he went into town where the Brotherhood so happened to be stayin’. Told ‘em I’d attacked him and his mates, the poor, defenseless men that they were.”

  He gave a low laugh, shaking his head. “Coin changed hands, story got bigger, and half a day later I’ve got five riders chasin’ my tail and riding me down.”

  I smiled into my cup. “Let me guess, you took them down too.”

  He barked a laugh, nearly spilling what was left of his ale. “Ha! I wish. Got flattened quicker than a tavern bench.”

  He ran a hand through is hair, still grinning. “They stopped and got off their horses all calm-like, said they just wanted a word. Next thing I know, they’re tellin’ me I’m under ‘investigation’ for assaultin’ a man and disruptin’ the peace. I told ‘em the only thing I’d disrupted was a marriage.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “That went over well, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, aye. About as well as throwin’ snow at a bonfire.”

  He gestured loosely with his mug, warming to the story. “I figured I’d knock a few heads together and be on my way, didn’t fancy wasting daylight arguin’ with hired swords. Soon as I Cast, they whipped up a gust and spun me ‘round so fast I near lost my boots.”

  I hid a smile behind my cup. “You tried to fight the Brotherhood, who are all Casters?”

  He raised a finger. “In my defense, I didn’t know that ‘til I was upside-down and kissin’ the dirt. Grew up near Vitel, see. You don’t find Brotherhoods there, too many guards, not enough road to bother protectin’.”

  He leaned back, shaking his head. “Next thing I know, they’ve got me trussed up like a hog and hauled back to town. Brought me right before the husband himself. Bastard looked smug soon as he saw the bruise on my face, thought he’d won somethin’.”

  He took another drink, smirking. “But what neither of us knew, Brotherhood don’t just take coin to rough a man up. They offer to gather witnesses. Hear both sides. Turns out his wife had plenty to say about her faithful husband.”

  I arched a brow. “Let me guess, she didn’t paint him as the victim.”

  Lioren grinned wide. “Aye, called him a cheatin’ bastard right to their faces. They let me go on the spot. Then, to make it worse for him, offered to buy me an ale, with the coin they’d taken from him.”

  A laugh slipped out. “How’d he take that?.”

  “Oh, he near burst a vein,” he said, laughing. “But I wasn’t about to turn down a free drink.”

  He leaned back, the grin still lingering. “After that, I started askin’ questions about the Brotherhood, what they actually did, how a man went about joinin’. Harl did most of the talkin’.”

  I blinked. “Harl? He hardly spoke when I was with them. I wasn’t even sure he could.”

  Lioren chuckled. “Aye, he’s quiet enough sober. After a few mugs, you’ll be prayin’ for silence and regretting you ever asked.”

  He lifted his mug and shouted toward the bar, “Another ale! And one for the lady while you’re at it!”

  He leaned back, grin still in place. “So that’s how it happened, more or less. One drink turned into a few, and next thing I know, I’m askin’ how a man joins up. Went through initiation months later and got my arse kicked by Darius for half of it. Then they called me a full-fledge Brother.”

  I raised a brow. “You got your ass kicked by Darius?”

  “Aye,” he said with a rueful grin. “That’s all you’re gettin’. I’ve said enough about me getting my arse handed to me for one evenin’.”

  He set his mug down, the grin softening. “Your turn, love. I’ve talked plenty about me. Let’s hear about you.”

  I hesitated, tracing the rim of my cup. “My story’s not half as funny.”

  His grin faded to something easier, quieter. “Doesn’t have to be funny, love. Just yours.”

  I looked down, watching the amber light shift in the bottom of my cup. The words formed easily enough, but they felt hollow now. I drew a breath to speak.

  “Don’t,” he said softly.

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  He met my eyes, no judgement in them, only a quiet knowing. “You already told the Brotherhood your story. I don’t need the polished version.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar, love – don’t take offense, it’s one of your better qualities. You don’t have to tell me. Just… I see how much it’s hurtin’ to keep it in.”

  I forced a smile that died instantly. He didn’t look away, and somehow that made it worse. I looked down again, the rim of my cup blurring in the light. The ache rose quick and sudden, catching me off guard. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to speak or to disappear.

  The words pressed at the back of my throat, heavy and waiting. I told myself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t need to know. But the silence between us stretched, and the lie I’d been living started to feel heavier than the truth. My hands shook against the cup. I drew a slow breath, the air thick as ash, and finally spoke.

  “Her name was Faylen,” I said.

  ? The Myth Seekers [A litrpg fantasy adventure] ?

  by Luminous Zephyr

  Sever the strings of gods and kings.

  But no favors come free, and the more he fights for freedom, the tighter the tangle of fate becomes.

  Finally, after forming a team to take on Janek’s Tower, the adventurers set off with high hopes.

  But before even reaching their destination, the team finds they are no longer chasing adventure.

  They are living it.