Mira threaded her way through the crowds of Stonekeep’s cobblestoned streets Fourday morning. Yesterday’s rains still lingered on the streets, and most of the refuse had been washed away by Threeday’s rains so she didn’t have to pay as close attention to where she stepped. Dark circles around her eyes told those that knew her of her trouble sleeping, and it was only because of a sleepless night that she was out walking so early in the morning with nowhere to go. Mira had just decided to go by the Bakers’ place two doors down from the Smith house to get some honey buns for everyone, so she took a left and headed that way. Then she thought of why she wanted honey buns, and it was only because Bandit liked them so much. Mira’s shoulders slumped and she looked down as she thought about her absent best friend. She really missed that little troublemaker, and Mira had just lost her appetite thinking about her.
Her path took her past the Hatters’ shop, which was on the corner opposite the Smith house. There was a red hat in the window, and she groaned inwardly. Knowing this was a secret signal from one of her mentors, Mira took a right turn at the intersection instead of going across the street to the Smith house. She took a circuitous route to a small alley, where she paused to listen and watch for any sign of pursuit. After being satisfied she was unobserved, she activated her G.A.S.P. and quickly walked up the side of the house and up to the shady side of the roof. From there she moved among the rooftops to a certain gabled window.
Mira took her time inspecting everything around and inside the window before releasing the latch with a slim knife she kept in a boot sheath. She had been trained in some of the deadliest skills she knew in this house, and the owner liked to set new traps at random times and places to keep her on her toes. Curiously, the more deadly traps were missing today. He must want something important. Mira carefully made her way through the house to a study where a very average man sat behind a desk, penning a letter. As quietly as she could, Mira moved to a chair opposite the desk and sat down.
The chair squeaked, but the man kept writing. Mira politely waited for him to acknowledge her presence, having a peek at the letter out of curiosity. Though she could read upside down proficiently, the letter was written in some sort of code. In less than a minute, the man finished his missive, set the letter aside, put his pen in an ornate holder, and sprinkled some sand on the letter. Only then did he look up at Mira.
“You in a hurry to be someplace?” Ykaens asked.
“I sat in the squeaky chair, didn’t I?” Mira asked cheekily.
“I won’t keep you too long, then,” Ykaens said. He was a man who spoke in tones that didn’t carry and wore things that would make him invisible in a crowd, even here in his most private sanctum. As the prince’s spymaster, he had to. He took his own advice and was prepared for anything at any time. Assassins never introduced themselves before striking, after all. He studied Mira for a moment before saying anything. “The prince believes there’s a Mordonian sorcerer living in the Smith household.”
Mira sat perfectly still, her face unchanging except for a tiny movement of her eyes to her left as she tried to come up with a plausible denial. That was all it took. Ykaens, who was a master at reading people, knew then that Mira was hiding something or protecting someone.
“There are no sorcerers living there,” Mira said evenly, telling the lie the best she was able. Mordonian sorcerers were to be put to death immediately upon discovery. It’s been the law for hundreds of years, and everyone knew it.
“Who are you protecting?” Ykaens asked casually, leaning back in his chair.
“There’s no one to protect,” Mira lied smoothly. “I’m alarmed because the Smiths are the only real family I’ve got. They’ve been good to me when almost no one else has.”
“Is it Elle?” Ykaens persisted. He was studying her carefully for even the slightest slip-up. “The deaths of her parents were very unfortunate. Did they dabble in any dark arts, I wonder?”
“They were addicts,” Mira said.
“Elle’s one of the most beautiful girls in Stonekeep. Any man in the city would cut off a finger to marry her. Maybe she’s magically enhanced herself to be that way?”
“She’d never do that. Her childhood was terrible because of her father, and she takes pains to avoid men. Elle’s not a sorceress.”
“What of your husband, Jeron?” Ykaens asked casually. “The Hatters say he hasn’t been working his forge lately and that he’s a bit odd.”
“Yeah, he’s odd, but I like that about him,” Mira said coolly. “He’s the fraternal twin of Bran, so he’s different, but not too different.”
“Why aren’t you living together?”
“You know why. Our marriage was forced on us, and I won’t accept it.”
“Still, you have no one else in your life. No other lovers?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Maybe I’ll get one if it makes you happy.”
“That wouldn’t make Jeron happy, I suspect. I know he cares for you.”
Mira shrugged. “I’ve yet to find a match for me.”
“You’re not just saying that to protect him, are you? Would you protect your husband over the interests of the kingdom?”
“You know we’re only married on an official basis,” Mira said, sprinkling in a little honesty, “but yeah, I’d absolutely protect him over the interests of the kingdom. We’ve known each other a long time, and he’s dear to me. But still, he’s no sorcerer.”
“What about the other brothers, Elric and Darek? Is one of them the sorcerer?”
“Nope. I’ve never seen either of them do anything even remotely suspicious.”
“There is a sorcerer living in that house. The prince expects your honesty,” Ykaens said in a very dangerous tone.
“You want honesty? I love the Smiths more than my own family, and I will rain hell on anyone who brings one of them harm!” Mira was breathing heavily now, and it was clear she meant that.
Ykaens was silent for an uncomfortably long time as he considered. It was the “anyone” in her statement that really bothered him. It was clear to him now where Mira’s loyalty lay. “If you’re protecting someone who’s a threat to the kingdom, Mira, there’ll be nothing I can do to protect you when the truth gets out.”
“Then I’m perfectly safe.”
Another pause. Ykaens forced himself to relax visibly before introducing the next topic of discussion. “The prince requires your services in Dathorn. He wants to know if the wizards there are up to anything since Grunbar was weakened.”
“You know how formidable they are. They’ve been able to keep Grunbar and Fellton from expanding for years beyond count. What am I going to do to any of them?”
“We both know you know you can take out a wizard if you need to,” Ykaens said.
“I’m not going to assassinate wizards for you,” Mira said. “I’m a little too attached to life and limb. Actually, I’ve been thinking about a new line of work.”
“As a trader, you mean? How did you acquire that very unique ship again?”
“Found it in a secret cove. We couldn’t just leave it there, you know, with our feet so sore and all,” Mira said sarcastically. “And yeah, I may as well put it to use. So, thanks, but no thanks to the whole assassination of wizards thing.” Mira had a sudden change in her perception of the situation, and she knew things had just changed for her. She knew then she had to leave. She was being asked to do bad things, whether it was to strangers or to her friends, she wanted no part of it anymore, but Mira couldn’t just tell Ykaens that if she wanted a clean getaway. Mira stood up to go. “Is that all?”
“Mira, I can see that you’ve been under a lot of stress recently, but you can’t just quit the kingdom’s service like it’s nothing.”
“I didn’t say anything about quitting,” Mira said evasively as she left.
Ykaens sat back deeper in his chair, his lips drawn to a thin line. He knew better.
-----
I awoke after what felt like too short of a rest. I massaged my aching temples, then swung my legs out of bed and rubbed my eyes. After taking a shower and dressing, I really didn’t feel much better, and I had no idea what time it was, since there were no windows in Stonekeep Castle. It sounds strange even to me that there would be no windows in a building, but somehow there was always fresh air in every part of the castle, and most importantly, no shapeshifters could get in by slithering through an arrow slit somewhere. It just left me a little disoriented after waking up because I never knew what time it was.
The rooms I occupied in Stonekeep Castle were on the lord’s level of the keep, though I didn’t trespass in the suites the lord and his family used to occupy unless it was absolutely necessary. I was very satisfied with my living arrangements, however, and my ego didn’t demand that I live in the most extravagant place I could find. The suite was paneled with wood on all four sides, so it didn’t have a drafty feel to it. The well-crafted furniture, though at least twelve hundred years old, still felt comfortable and looked like they were made yesterday. The bedroom I used had a very large, comfortable bed with a couple of overstuffed chairs, a table between them, a nightstand on either side of the bed, and a chest at the foot of the bed. There were magical crystal lamps on the tables that could be dimmed or turned on or off at a touch, which was convenient. Best of all, this room had its own closet and bathroom, both of which were very spacious. The rest of the city didn’t even have indoor plumbing, much less magical lamps.
I still wasn’t used to such luxury, having grown up in the upper city of Stonekeep sharing a single, sparsely furnished room with my brother, Bran. I only recently moved in here to keep my family safe when the Executors had become aware of my existence. Stonekeep Castle was magically warded against spying spells, teleportation, and other such sneakiness, so it became necessary to stay here where nothing could get at me or even guess that I lived here. This was possible because only the first floor was available to the soldiers who manned the keep. The rest of the levels of the keep were all accessible by magical portals that no one on the outside controlled, so even now no one had any idea that the upper levels of the castle were occupied. Considering Mordonian sorcerers were traditionally put to death immediately when found, and considering that I was such a sorcerer myself, I was very careful to keep my presence here a secret.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it was time for breakfast. I walked out of the bedroom and walked down the hallway past the other doorways to a living room just inside the suite. I left the suite and glanced uneasily to my left at the sound of a shriek of metal on metal. The gigantic adamantine golem was posted there outside my door, keeping an eternal vigil over my quarters. It looked like a twenty-foot-tall warrior in plate armor that wielded a greataxe and had a hollow tube extending forward from each side of its cuirass. It was one of the deadliest things I knew of in the entire world, and even though I could control the golems with Mordon’s helm, I still wanted to cringe every time a golem regarded me.
The hallway outside my suite was twenty feet wide and extended directly away from my door. The walls and ceiling were faced with white marble with gold trim, the floor was a darker shade of marble, and there were portraits of important looking people lining the walls. As I strode down the hallway, I passed the double doors to the library on the right and a couple of doors on the left that led to other suites. There were several golems in this hallway guarding certain doors that I passed by on my way to the throne room. Surely, the extraordinary width of the hallway was to make sure they could move and fight unimpeded. The hallway turned to the right, and halfway down the long corridor I saw the double doors of the throne room opposite the inert portal that led to the main hallway of the keep. There were two more golems flanking the golden doors there, and they made no move to hinder me as I strode inside.
The throne room was even more magnificently decorated than the hallway was, with gold trim-work and patterns on the walls, though it had the same white marble cladding the walls and ceiling. The room was very large, extending another fifty feet to either side of the doorway and was easily that deep. The rear wall of the hall had two inert portals that looked like a stone archway filled with a blank wall on each side of a dais, where the walls came together at a slight angle. There were four more golems in this room, but these were larger, thirty-foot-tall golems, and they stood on each side of the two portals. Directly in front of the golden doors, where the walls met in the rear of the room was a magnificent Throne made from a single gemstone. It glowed softly with golden light and its facets sparkled radiantly.
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The Amber Throne was the secret to my success, and I could feel the power it contained even from the doorway. I still called it the Amber Throne in my mind, even though it could turn red, too, which was something I learned when the ogrish army had attacked Stonekeep. I was the only one that I knew of that the golems would allow to sit on the throne or even touch one of the three steps to the dais it rested on. Everyone else faced death to do such a thing, and not just from the golems. The magical traps on the dais were still strongly in effect.
The Amber Throne allowed its wielder to see anywhere in the world and open one or both of the two portals in the room to a place that its energy was focused on. Anywhere that wasn’t warded against scrying spells, that is. I’d found that certain places were protected from my prying eyes, like the Temple of the Overgod in Aerie and Fell Keep in Fellton. I had recently destroyed the ward that protected the temple in Aerie when Bran, Elle, Mira and I had ended the threat of that false church and of the Executors they sent out to do their dirty work. I still wasn’t able to gaze into Fell Keep, however, and I had the feeling that the King of Fellton was responsible for much evil in this world, including the army of ogres and goblins that had been unleashed on Stonekeep recently under the command of my old nemesis, Kromwell Surekeel.
I crossed the floor and took my place on the Amber Throne, then focused my will on my family’s home built above the smithy our family was named after. An illusory view appeared in the air before the Throne showing my father, Dortham, and all three of my brothers, Elric, Darek, and Bran, were hard at work making and repairing armor. They all looked much alike, having broad shoulders, very strong builds, and they all had Dortham’s brown hair and blue eyes. I had always stood out from them a bit, being slightly shorter and having different features. Though I was adopted as a baby, I was no less a part of this family than they were, and I was truly grateful that they had raised me as the twin brother of Bran. The Smith family was made of very stern stuff and always helped others even in the greatest peril.
I scanned through the house to see that breakfast was already served and cleared away, though there was a plate of food waiting for me by the warm stove. My adoptive mother, Nora, was humming to herself as she cleaned the kitchen. Elle and Mira sat on the sofa in the living area and spoke in low tones. I moved the point of view up to my old bedroom where Bran still dwelled and saw that the bedspread was blue. If it was red, then Bran would be signaling me that he sensed some sort of evil nearby. I used the magic of the throne to activate the portal on my left, and a slightly radiant, golden shimmering portal opened into the bedroom. I got up from the throne and strode through. The portal winked out of existence when I was clear of it, and I made my way downstairs.
Nora heard me coming down the stairs. “Good morning, son,” she said, smiling.
I walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Morning, mom.” Instead of going straight for the food, I walked over to where Mira and Elle sat quietly talking. “Good morning!” I said cheerfully.
“It’s nearly afternoon,” Mira said as she crossed her arms with a neutral expression.
I must have made her mad somehow. Mira kept her brown hair short, and she had brown eyes and very common features. On the inside, however, Mira was anything but common. She had a spark in her that was very bright and energetic, and she was a great practical joker. It was that quirky sense of humor that I loved so much about her and made her anything but ordinary in my eyes. I wished then that circumstances had been different and that we were truly married rather than just officially so.
“It is?” I asked.
“Sure is. We know how much it takes from you when you’re, uh, active, so we saved you a plate,” Elle said.
Elle was the love of Bran’s life, and it was easy to see why, at least externally. She was one of the most beautiful young women I’d ever seen, and with her blonde hair, green eyes, perfect skin, and a figure that any woman would kill for, she was nearly a celebrity in the upper city because of her looks. Elle had had a very difficult childhood that made her very reserved around men in particular, though she never spoke about it. She was still a very sweet and caring person, and people genuinely liked to be around her, even if she unintentionally ruined the chances other women had with men they admired when Elle was nearby.
“Sorry. I had no idea,” I said.
“Your breakfast awaits,” Mira said, gesturing with a hand towards the food.
I had bad feeling about this. It had only been a couple of days since Mira had been lost in the tunnels under the Temple of the Overgod in Aerie, and she’d been having a very tough time dealing with the experience. I didn’t know how to help her, so I did the only thing I could, which was to go out with Bran to a different city each day to root out and destroy any of the Xerith we could find. There were a lot of them out there, too. I hoped that knowing that the Xerith presence in our world was being systematically wiped away would make Mira less anxious. She didn’t look to be feeling any better about it, though, and I didn’t know what else to do. I dropped my gaze and turned back to the dining area where Nora was setting the plate down with a fork and glass of milk. I dutifully sat at the table and ate mechanically. My appetite had diminished remarkably at the way Mira treated me. By the time I was done eating, Nora had gone upstairs, and Elle had gone down to the smithy, probably to run some errands, which left Mira alone on the couch. This household, which had always been so full of life and activity, was suddenly empty, and I knew something bad was coming. It was probably something that everyone else knew about. When Mira walked over from the couch to the table to sit opposite me, I knew I was right. Her normal place at the table was beside me.
We finally made eye contact. “I’m leaving, Jeron,” Mira said simply.
My heart suddenly felt like it was in a vice. I didn’t know what to say, so I said the first thing I could think of. “If this is about the temple, I’ve been working on that,” I said quickly. “Bran and I’ve already been to Talm, Indigo, and a few smaller cities and we’ve been hunting them down. Soon, you’ll have nothing to fear.”
Mira flinched at the mention of her fear. It was definitely a mistake to have mentioned that.
“Though I’d never been so afraid in my life, it’s not just the assassins that bother me. Look at what we’ve done, Jeron. We’re barely twenty years old, and we’ve been to the edges of the world fighting undead, demons, shapeshifting assassins and demonic cults. It scares me to death! I don’t want to do this with my life! When I look at you, all I can see is the power you wear. It’s like a mantle. It’s so much greater than anything I can have, and it actually scares me. I mean, what if you blast me out of existence in your sleep? You’ve been molded into someone who can take on these kinds of horrors, and I feel that that’s your calling in life.”
“But it’s not yours, you mean,” I said.
“No,” Mira said firmly. “It’s not mine. I resented you at first for the betrothal, or lack thereof, but then came to treasure the fact that you tried so hard to keep me out of Lorond’s clutches. I’m truly grateful. But then my scumbag of a father ruined it by marrying us before I was ready or at peace with it. I was flattered that you tried to court me in Havanalil and with the other things you did. But then Bandit left me that same day, and she may not have left if we never went to the Arborean city. I know it’s not your fault, but I can’t help but blame you in a tiny corner of my mind. When I look at the rest of the time we spent together, it’s been one misadventure or battle after another, and I just don’t want this. It’s more than that, though. More than anything else, Jeron, I’m actually afraid of what you’re becoming.”
There. That was it. All the things I feared to hear had just been verbalized. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. I looked down at my plate. I just couldn’t look her in the eyes. My mind went in a thousand directions, trying desperately to find something that would keep her by me.
“Mira, I can make the world safer,” I said, pleading. “I can make a life for us. It won’t always be this way.”
“I think it’ll be this way for a long time. Too long. This isn’t the life that I choose, and I hope you come to understand that in time. I’ve discussed it with the others, and I’ll be taking the Unseen Blade with me to make my own life. Please promise me that you won’t come looking for me or spy on me in some creepy way with the Throne.”
It was already settled, then. There was nothing I could do. It took a moment to settle in with me. “I promised you when your father had us married that I’d find a way to give you the life you wanted,” I said. “I just wanted you to be happy and to be happy with you.” I thought it over briefly. There was nothing I could do. I had to let her go. I lowered my eyes. “If this is what you want, then I’ll leave you alone.” I just sat there looking down at my dirty plate. My heart actually ached.
Satisfied with my response, Mira got up. “Goodbye, Jeron.”
-----
I sat there staring at my hands as Mira went down the stairs to the smithy for a few moments, then slowly stood up. I really didn’t want to be here, and the way I felt, I didn’t want to be around anyone else. I teleported to the beach in the Sunset Isles where the Pirate King had made his lair. Thanks to Ithion’s death curse and the necromantic focus he made, the undead under the power of the focus had killed off all animal life on the island for centuries. It was the most remote and uninhabited place I could think of at that moment.
I appeared on the beach where we landed on the island. The early afternoon sunlight sparkled off the waves of the bay and warmed the sand I stood on. Only a few pieces of the trapped pillar remained, and there was no trace of bones anywhere, making the place almost pristine. I looked around me on all sides and couldn’t hear anything but the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach.
It was the loneliest place in the world.
I sat down in the sand and stared at the water, pondering what my life had become and wondering about what it should be. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything I could have done better at the time I’d done it. Sure, I could have handled the betrothal of Mira to Lorond Washman better, and I should have asked her to marry me rather than delaying out of cowardice, but surely those things weren’t bad enough to cause her to forsake me. I ran things over and over again in my mind as the afternoon wore on, but aside from being more up front with Mira, there was nothing else I could have done. I began to get thirsty, and I decided that I was done with second guessing myself. I stood up and brushed the sand off of my trousers, then focused my will on my old bedroom and teleported there.
I glanced down at the bedspread out of habit, which was still blue. No trouble on the horizon, it appeared. Without speaking to anyone, I made my way through the house and out to the street. I only got a distracted glance from Dortham, Elric, Darek and Bran, who were still working their forges as usual. It was the middle of the afternoon, well before dinner time, and pedestrian traffic was brisk. People moved here and there in the street but kept to the shaded areas out of habit. The familiar homes and businesses were comforting, and because each higher floor in the house was a little wider than the one below it, the buildings all looked like they were hanging over the street a bit, which made the shade more common. I saw the sign for the Rusted Cutlass Tavern ahead and walked in.
It was very cool and dim inside, and I looked around the common room for a moment to let my eyes adjust. The place had the usual stone walls, which was so common for the first floor of dwellings in Stonekeep, and it had wooden booths on three sides of the common room. The fourth wall had a bar going the whole length of the room with a couple dozen wooden stools situated in front of it. The place smelled like pipeweed and beer, and there were only a dozen patrons scattered about the place. I walked around the tables that were situated in the center of the room and made my way to the bar.
“Welcome!” the barkeeper said with a smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Terran gut rot, please,” I said.
“Been that kind of day, has it?” the barkeep asked as he held a mug to a smaller cask and began to pour a dark gray liquid into a mug. Gut rot was made from fermented mushrooms, and it was a powerful beverage fit for the constitution of the Terrans.
“Yeah. A woman,” I said by way of explanation.
“Say no more. Balis,” the barkeep said with a thumb in his chest. “Say, Jeron, it’s our policy to collect payment up front when we serve the Terran brews.”
“Of course,” I said politely as I paid him. “You know me?”
“I never forget a face,” Balis said, tapping on his forehead. “Though no one in your family comes in very often, your father used to help people in certain ways before he became a councilman. Very helpful, he was, in certain unexpected ways. And of course, you’re all legends after the way you handled the undead and demon cultists a few years back at Surekeel’s place.”
“Ah. That.” I had a flashback of my sister’s screams and all the blood and chaos and took a deep drink from my mug before my hands started shaking. I was not smiling.
He must have seen my face darken. “I’m sorry to have brought that up, friend. I didn’t think about what that must’ve been like for you. The next one’s on the house.”
I nodded my thanks and turned to face the common room with my back to the bar. I really didn’t want to continue that particular conversation, and Balis took the hint and moved off to check on someone else. I remembered the scene as Sivash Surekeel held my sister’s beating heart up so Dortham could see. I remembered the shock and pain in Juleen’s eyes. I took another long pull from my mug. Two men across the room got up from their booth and waved as they walked over.
“Well met, Brotlan. Trevic,” I said, nodding politely. “Didn’t see you there.”
They were part of my ten-man talon during my two-year militia service, and they were present for the goblin ambush. They were part of a very small number of people who knew I could wield magic, and we’d all gotten closer after that ambush was foiled, as soldiers often do. As I still retained life and health outside the reach of an executioner, I knew them to be good and trustworthy friends.
“Good to see you, Jeron,” Trevic said amiably. “You going to let us buy you a beer finally?”
“Yeah, why not?” I said.
“So, what brings you in here?” Brotlan asked.
“A woman, of course,” I confessed.
“Mira?” Brotlan asked.
“Who else?” I said rhetorically. “She left me today. She’s going to try her luck as a sea captain, and that’s pretty much the end of our brief, fake marriage.”
“Man, I’m sorry to hear that,” Trevic said. He passed a silver coin to Brotlan, who didn’t look pleased to receive it.
“You had a bet going on that?” I asked, noticing the transaction.
“Yeah. Really sorry. We both wanted things to work out between you and Mira, but Brotlan thought it would end within the year,” Trevic said. “Personally, I thought she would stab you in your sleep or shoot you dead in the first month.”
“I was a little too quick on my feet for the bolt to strike true.”
“Ha! That’s the spirit!” Brotlan said, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Hey, Balis, pour us another round, will ye?” Trevic called out.
I drained my mug fairly quickly and set it on the bar as Balis was bringing us our drinks. Brotlan and Trevic saw I was drinking rot gut and shared a concerned look.
“Careful with that stuff, Jeron, or you’ll go blind,” Brotlan warned as he took a mug of beer.
“Yeah, like Mr. Miller!” Trevic said. He clinked mugs with Brotlan then took a swig.
“Bah, Mr. Miller was kicked in the head by a mule,” I said. “Besides, I learned my limits for this stuff when I was twelve.”
“Twelve?” they both said incredulously.
“Yeah. Learning bar fighting is too easy when you’re sober, so the Terrans would get us to drink gut rot before each sparring session.”
“They really do that?” Brotlan asked.
“Of course. Terrans can drink gallons of this stuff, and you know how they enjoy bar fighting,” I said. “It’s a national pastime.”
“No way!” they said, laughing.
“Sure is,” I said. “In fact, drinking heavily is part of their martial art.”
“Terrans have a martial art that involves drinking?” Brotlan asked.
“Yeah, though most Terran martial arts involve finding creative ways to block punches with your face, drinking huge quantities of alcohol is part of every Terran’s fighting style.”
That got them to laughing, and we ended up finding better things to talk about than women. I’d almost forgotten what light-hearted evenings were like with all the struggles I had endured lately. Even now, I felt like there was a heavy weight on my shoulders. Responsibility can be a heavy burden, and I felt like I had all of it. Who else in Aldon has the ability to see what I can? Who else has the power to do something about it? But I didn’t want any of it. Not tonight. Tonight, I was going to drink myself into a stupor, and damn the consequences. But there’s a bad thing about drinking too much. Though it can be a release while you’re doing it, when you wake up, all of your problems are still there.
