The Party Steals a Cat

"Nothing is for free"

Common sayings, New Soléria.

Out in a stinky hole that some would call a tavern, there lived a disgusting middle-aged man named Harold. Well, he didn't live there, but he had certainly made himself acquainted with the place, to the dismay of the regulars and one particular barmaid, whose troubles begin soon. He was a short man, constantly mistaken for a dwarf, and just like dwarves, he loved gold.

He had woken in a great mood that day, put on a dirty loose white linen shirt, unlaced, exposing a hairy chest, a wide leather belt with a heavy brass buckle that attempted to keep his belly from leaping out, and teal green trousers. He had a six-day-old brown beard and was balding. He still kept the horseshoe of hair around his head in the hopes that eventually the middle would grow back again.

He was attempting to explain his plan to his friend Sola but kept getting interrupted by her moralizing.

"I just don't see how that's a bad thing. You keep telling me it is, but I don't see it," he said.

"You were in her closet to see her naked, Harold. She must have been terrified once she saw you there," said Sola, a thin, almost sickly-looking blonde woman clad in a hammered steel plate. She looked like a kid wearing adult clothing.

Harold's mouth hung half open, and his eyes wandered from corner to corner of the room, with brief stops to see if Sola was still talking. "Listen, a man has needs. Plus, she shouldn't be changing clothes next to her window if she doesn't want to draw attention."

"That's not up to you to decide, gods be damned. And why aren't you saying anything, Gladius?" asked Sola.

Across the table, Gladius was engaged in something far more important than the moral failings of his two companions. The grey-skinned orc two tables over made the dire mistake of looking in his direction, and Gladius decided this was a challenge. He had not blinked for four whole minutes and was very proud of this. Gladius was a tall, sculpted blonde man with blue eyes and a chiselled jaw. Wearing full plate, polished mirror-bright, he looked like the heroes of old.

"Shut up," said Gladius. "I'm in a staring contest with that orc there. He thinks he can withstand me! The true hero, the one above all, the chosen one, the most powerful being in existence, the one with the deepest rage and the hatred strong enough to move mountains."

"Excuse me, but are you three ready to order?" asked Mina the barmaid, a short, pale, brown-haired woman with green eyes.

"Oh, yeah. What is it you have? I could eat a pig," said Harold.

"We only have mead and lamb, as I said before," said Mina.

"But I want pork! You know what, I'm telling the thane of this city about you. What kind of establishment doesn't have pork?" said Harold.

"Well, we just got out of a war with the neighboring cities, so our rations are a bit poor right now," she replied with one hand on her waist while tapping her right foot.

"Maybe we should have stayed in Stonemoor for longer," Harold said, looking at Sola. "The herald we met on the way here told us how we ought to stay there, that it would be safer and we wouldn't have to worry about food or drink for a while."

Gladius banged the table and yelled, "Haha! You dumb orc! You lost!" The tavern fell silent. One elderly man grunted in disapproval before putting his hands over his face.

"Excuse me?" asked the orc, raising one eyebrow ever so slightly.

"You lost! You blinked before I did. You are a loser! You had no chance!" said Gladius.

"What are you talking about?"

"Our staring contest! You blinked first."

"It wasn't a staring contest. I was just wondering why you were looking at me."

"I was looking at you because you were looking at me and then refused to look away, so it was a challenge!" said Gladius. "Don't backtrack now, you know you lost."

"Whatever, soldier, I'll just be on my way," said the orc as he stood to leave.

"I'm not a soldier. I'm a cavaliere, and I demand respect!" said Gladius.

"And?" the orc asked as his eyebrow rose a bit more as he stopped walking.

"What do you mean, 'And'? I'm the spiritual warrior. The one that brings justice to all. The one who wields the executioner's sword. The—"

"Listen, I just wanted a quick meal and now I'll be off. Good luck with your sword of justice," said the orc.

Gladius went red in the face, then looked over his companions. Harold was busy scratching his beard and pretending he wasn't there while Sola was taking in the orc from top to bottom. He was quite tall and that alone made her start blushing.

"Did he just shush me? He can't just shush me like this," said Gladius.

"Shut up, Gladius. I'll have three slices of pork, please," said Harold to the barmaid.

"Sir, we don't have—" the barmaid started before getting interrupted by Gladius.

"I will kill you! My rage knows no bounds. It will be one fell swoop and—"

The orc pulled out the huge mace from the leather strap on his back and hit Gladius in the head with one sweeping movement. Gladius fell like a chunk of wood, hitting his head on the table.

"I'll be off now," said the orc. "Take care of your soldier and make sure he keeps his mouth shut next time, or he is going to get a far worse fate than a headache."

Sola's eyes widened and a smile curled her lips. "Thank you, sir orc. I'm Sola, a healer, although in these parts, people call me a cleric. What is your name, if I might ask?"

"I'm Grunt. And I'm leaving, as I said."

"Wait, wait, wait. You are a man of many talents, I can see. Why not join us for a round of drinks? And later, we can go to your place and have a nice night together," Sola said as she picked up a mug of mead and pointed at it.

"No. I'm leaving." And the orc left.

Sola's shoulders fell and she looked down at her feet.

"Sola, I told you no man wants to be with a girl that looks like any gust of wind can carry her away. You should eat a bit more and fill yourself up, get yourself some curves." Harold chuckled while scratching his belly.

"No woman wants to be with a tiny little hairy man like you, either, so why don't you shut up?" said Sola.

"Barmaid! We want your finest cuts of pork and three meads. Our friend will soon wake up and will need something to forget his humiliation."

By now, the barmaid was starting to lose hope that these people would ever understand simple instructions. "Sir, we don't have pork! I've told you multiple times already! We only have mead and lamb, and you need to pay in advance."

"Fine! Here are your coins. Now, bring us anything you have," said Harold.

"Lamb!" the barmaid yelled back.

"Yes, yes, whatever," said Harold.

The barmaid went back to the kitchen, shaking her head.

"Harold, you can't treat staff like that. You know she is going to spit in your food, don't you?" said Sola.

"Well, she was kind of cute. I wouldn't mind a little spit."

"You are a disgusting old man. I don't believe I am traveling with you."

"Until we reach Midport, you are stuck with me. You don't want to break your promise."

"I know. I know. I can only wield my powers if I keep Thommo's promise and graduate. I will help you carry the Glass Shield to Midport. I just wish I had made a different promise for my graduation at Thommo's Cleric School."

"Good! But before we reach Midport I need you to do something for me. I can't leave this city without apologizing to Melana."

"At last, some sense! You are going to apologize for entering her house and hiding in the closet!"

"Yes! But a simple apology won't do."

"So what are you thinking? Are you buying her a gift?"

"Yes, a special gift!" Harold said as he rubbed his hands together.

"And what kind of gift?" Sola asked.

"A cat!" A mischievous grin overcame Harold.

"Does she like cats?"

"Yes, she does." He smiled.

"How do you know?" asked Sola.

"Well, she has a cat. It's called Emerald," he said.

"So you are buying her a second cat?" Sola said.

"Oh, no, no, no. I'm giving her Emerald back."

"Has it run off? Is it lost?"

"No. It's likely sitting on her bed as we speak."

"Wait, you don't mean..." said Sola, horrified.

"I'm thinking that we go up there while she is off at the herb shop and steal the cat. Then when she is looking for it, I show up at her door with it. She is going to be so thankful that she will probably even want to thank me in a special, special way, if you get what I mean."

"I'm not letting you steal a cat."

"Well, if you aren't going to help, that can delay things. We might have to stay in this city for a while longer, maybe a whole crop season."

"No! You can't be serious. Why do you even want to be with a woman who hates you?"

"Every woman I've met hates me. The rest just haven't had the chance yet."

"Thommo, give me patience. I don't want to stay here for a whole crop season. What do you need me to do?"

"You can go to the herb shop and delay her for a bit, just to give me enough time to enter her house and put the cat in this bag."

"Hmm... what... why... who..." said Gladius as he slowly lifted his face from the table.

"Just in time. Wake up, Gladius. I'm going to need your help, too. Once Sola is out with Melana, you will throw me over the garden fence and up towards her window on the second floor of the tower," said Harold.

"What? Why?" asked Gladius.

"You can use your shield as a platform, like a serving platter. I stand on top, and you can then push me up to the second floor. I get in, get the cat, and come back down through the window. We need to make it seem as if the cat ran away and not that someone stole it," said Harold.

"Here is your lamb and mead," said the barmaid.

"Thank you, fair maiden. Is there anything I can do to repay your hospitality?" asked Harold.

"No. I'll be off now." The barmaid left, thanking all the gods that she could remember.

"Women these days."

"So haven't you been beaten enough? What do you think Melana will do to you if she sees you in her home a second time? Kidnapping her cat, no less! This is not a job for Gladius, the hero. What is in it for me?"

"She is a witch. If she is thankful for our party, then she might even make you special armor or a special charmed weapon. Hell, she might even join us in our quest!" said Harold.

"You are insane, Harold. There is no chance she will join us," said Sola.

"For now, let us eat. There is much work ahead, and a whole crop season if I can't fix the Melana situation," said Harold.

"Thommo's teeth be damned," cried Sola.

"I like the sound of an enchanted item. Let's do it," said Gladius.

The party finished eating, then ordered an increasing amount of alcohol. At some point, the barmaid would bring a round of mead then go back to cry in the corner, wondering when the group would leave town.

After a couple hours of drinking, Harold stumbled as he got up from his chair and said, "Let's stalk around her house."

"Wait, now? I thought you meant to do this another day. Tomorrow, perhaps. I just got hit in the head and now we are drunk!" said Gladius.

"The fastest"—hiccup—"we get this over with the fastest we leave the city."—hiccup—"I can cure us. Hold steady," said Sola, then fell over.

"By Huthon! Sola, we need you awake. How are you going to heal us from our drunkenness?" yelled Gladius.

"Ahm... I'm awake," she said as she slowly stood.

"Now, go bang on Melana's door and invite her to the herb shop," said Harold.

"Wait. I thought you knew when she usually—when she—already goes there on her own," Sola tried to say.

"No, no. No time for that. Doesn't matter when she usually goes. Go now," said Harold, shooing Sola towards the tower.

And so they went, trying to keep each other from falling. Little Mandy's Tavern was a dirty old place. Timber roof, which was leaking, and wet moldy wooden walls. The tavern faced west and was on the banks of the river Lynx.

An isolated tavern outside Cottonfield; it took a while walking north until one would start seeing cobblestone streets. The surrounding area was muddy, which made the party slip and fall a couple of times on the way to the witch's tower.

The witch's tower was near the tavern's northern walls. It was a weird-looking stone tower. It had two floors and a mushroom-shaped timber roof, which was painted red. The tower slanted to the east, as if it had started to fall but thought better of it. Villagers once bet on when it was going to finally fall over, and even called it the drunk man's tower, but over the years it never did. Moss grew in between the bricks on the outside walls of the tower. Vines grew towards the roof but couldn't get past some invisible line between the two floors. Near the second-floor window some red roses decorated the window box.

After walking through the mud for a while, they reached the tower. A small but cared-for garden filled the area, with of herbs and vegetables growing. And of course, Harold made sure to step on a few.

"Over there! Right under her bedroom window!" said Harold to Gladius.

Harold and Gladius hid in some bushes next to the wooden fence and under the second-floor window. Sola was the one to go first and knock on the door.

"I don't want to hit those roses on my way up," said Harold, pointing at the window, the one that pointed south. The witch could see the tavern from her room, and Harold could see the witch from the tavern, which was the start to this whole thing.

Sola moved towards the door facing the east and knocked.

"Who is there? It's late," the witch yelled from her bedroom window.

"I'm Sola the healer, but people in these parts call me a c-c-c-leric."

"Sorry, I'm busy now, Leric. Come back tomorrow," yelled Melana.

"No! I can't come back tomorrow. We need to leave now! The crop season isn't over until three months from now!" Sola started crying.

Out in the yard, trying to balance his weight on his one good knee, Harold said, "How is she doing? I can't see from here."

"I don't know. She seems to be screaming and banging on the door, so I guess… not good?" said Gladius as he looked angrily at Harold.

"Damn it, that girl doesn't know how to persuade anyone. Maybe I should go help. Quick, get me my wig," said Harold.

"Your wig? You have a wig? Why am I not surprised?" said Gladius. "And why would I have it?"

"I hid my wig inside your pouch for times like this," said Harold without lifting his eyes from Sola.

"I will burn your wig! Stop putting things inside my stuff!" said Gladius.

The door was made from strong oak, or it would have collapsed from the number of times Sola kept hitting it.

"The crop season! The crops take a long time to grow!" Sola yelled louder.

"Girl, what are you doing? Why are you talking about the crop season? Who are you? I'll tell you what, I'll come down to talk," said Melana.

Melana opened the door. She had dark long hair and caramel eyes. She wore a dark red dress and a necklace with a dark stone. She looked sorry for whoever was knocking on the door.

"Who are you? Leric? Sola? Why are you banging on my door at midnight?" asked Melana.

"I need to take you—hiccup—to the herb shop," said Sola.

"Why?" asked Melana.

"Trust me. It's for your own good!"

"You don't look so good. You smell like you took a shower in mead. Here, drink this. It will cure your drunkenness." Melana took from a small leather bag she kept on her waist a small glass vial. It had a dirty grey liquid inside, as if she just got it from a puddle outside.

"It doesn't—look good, I hope—it tastes—good." Sola took the strange potion, looked at Melana, then back at the vial. "Ughh, tastes like a rusty sword, but I don't feel drunk anymore, so thanks, I guess," said Sola after she drank the strange potion and became sober again.

"Can you tell me what all of this is about?" asked Melana.

"I—hmm..."

Back in the bushes, Harold was getting desperate. "She is not getting anywhere with this. Forget the wig, just throw me!"

Gladius positioned himself with the shield above his head like a serving platter. Harold climbed him with his dirty little shoes, and when one shoe hit Gladius's hair, he yelled, "Not the hair."

"Hey! Silence!" said Harold.

Harold finished his climb and prepared on top of the shield.

With great effort, the cavaliere threw Harold over through the witch's bedroom window. Harold was careful to not hit the roses. The window broke. "By Valerie! May she shit on my face! I got glass all over," Harold yelled as he entered Melana's bedroom.

"What was that?" asked Melana as she turned to see the source of the sound.

"Quick! Look, over there! A dragon!" said Sola.

The witch moved to look over to the horizon, where there was no dragon, and the cleric took the opportunity to hit her on the back of the head, causing her to fall.

"Shh. Everything will be fine soon," said Sola as she closed Melana's eyes.

Harold looked around the bedroom. He saw a lot of wooden cupboards, with strange herbs and glass vials. Some vials were full, others empty. The witch's bed looked clean and had white and red sheets on top of it. There was a bear rug on the floor, and two small night tables, one on each side of the bed. On the night table to the right of the bed there was a small candle lantern and a book. He saw all that but didn't see a cat. He did, however, see a glowing red light reflected on the walls of the stone staircase leading to the first floor. He went down to investigate.

Sola was carrying a fainted Melana to the living room's sofa. The room looked messy and organized at the same time. More cupboards with herbs and potions were on the western wall, the opposite wall to the door, next to the kitchen with its many closets for stockpiling food. There were bookshelves on the southern wall, and some small gems next to the books. Some letters were stashed between books while others were lying on the ground.

The stone staircase led to the northern wall right behind the couch. The couch was facing south and positioned in front of the door.

On the other side of the couch were three leather-bound armchairs with wolf pelts covering them. A wooden table covered with papers and a looming dark book squatted in the center of the area.

The space was illuminated by a small glowing red orb floating above the book.

"What is this?" asked Sola, pointing at the orb.

"How would I know what in the hells this is? Aren't you the magic person in our party?" asked Harold.

They both looked at a orb floating in the living room, above the dark book. The book was open to a page titled "Communing With Chaos Demons." Sola it up and read it.

"Oh, no."

"What is it, Sola?" asked Harold.

"This is a spell book. It's written in an ancient tongue, spellscript, the same we learn at the Thommo school. But this one is older. There are some words I can't read."

Sola kept reading. "This spell is said to exchange things from this plane with another, a contract. The spell has begun, or this orb wouldn't still be floating. If what I understand is correct, then if the contract isn't fulfilled in a few hours, this orb will take an object in this world that matches the reward asked by the conjurer. The orb is the counterparty; it judges the offerings."

"So what?" asked Harold.

"Well, we don't know what the witch asked! And we don't know what she promised to give away!" cried Sola.

"What's that got to do with us?" asked Harold.

"You don't understand, Harold. This is a forbidden spell. It takes effort to conjure it, special ingredients like black dragon scale that isn't found anywhere. This is forbidden because it's a conjuring spell that can affect the entire world, not just the conjurer. This is a special witch and the fact that she conjured this orb means she must be one of the few remaining witches from the Council of Misurn," said Sola.

"According to my school's lore, this spell has only been cast two times. 'Invoke the red orb at the turn of the tide and pay the unforgiving price' was the phrase used by my grandmaster to explain it. Previously, the items exchanged were the life of all dragons in exchange for resurrecting the Emperor's son. The other time we don't know what was asked, but it has been said that the old world disappeared. The ships stopped coming. We are all that's left. As far as we know, this is the only continent left in the world. This spell can change the fate of everyone!"

"Maybe we should remake the spell. Ask the orb to put the cat in my bag and I'll give it Gladius's shield in exchange," said Harold.

"I don't think it will be this easy," said Sola while looking at the page. "Let me see if I can alter the spell!" Sola read the page. "I don't see a way to overwrite the spell! This orb can take anything; it could even take both our lives!" she said. "We need to find a way to fulfill the contract. We can try speaking to the orb and offering it stuff and seeing what it accepts."

"Hey, spirit orb!" Harold yelled. The orb stopped floating and stood still. "Let's make a deal. You put Melana's cat in my potato bag here, and you can have Gladius's shield."

The orb replied with a hushed ensemble of thousands of voices. "The shield is not yours to give."

"Hey, what is this red thing?" asked Gladius as he entered the house.

"Quick, Gladius, tell the red orb you accept the trade or we will all die!" said Harold.

"Yes, orb, I accept the trade!" Gladius yelled.

The orb emitted red lightning across the room, towards one of the cupboards. It picked the cat from the top shelf in the kitchen and put it in the bag. Another bolt of lightning went towards Gladius, and his shield disappeared.

"Wait, what? Where is my shield?" asked Gladius.

"You just gave it away," said Harold.

"The final wish has been granted," the orb said. There was a blinding flash of light and then, when they opened their eyes, the red orb was gone.

"I gave it away? What do you mean? That was my grandfather's shield!" said Gladius.

"It was either that or we would all be dead, forbidden spells or something. Let's keep the sleeping witch here and go back to the tavern. Tomorrow I'll come back and bring her the cat, and we will all be good," said Harold.

"Did you hear the orb before it left? It said the final wish has been granted. What does that mean? I didn't read anything about multiple wishes," said Sola.

"Maybe the spell can only be cast three times, and ours was the third. Let's bounce," said Harold.

"Give me my shield back!" yelled Gladius.

"Don't worry, Gladius. I'll buy you the best shield money can buy in Midport. We just need to leave Cottonfield," said Harold.

"I don't want another shield!" he yelled back.

"Not even the legendary Huthon shield?" asked Harold.

"I thought that shield was a fairytale," Gladius said.

"I know the man who has it and he owes me a favor. He is on the way to Midport, too," Harold said.

"I'll have to find another shield in the meantime," said Gladius.

"That was quick. I thought that was your grandfather's shield. Wasn't it a big deal?" asked Sola.

"Shut up. If Harold gives me the Huthon shield, I'll be happy," said Gladius.

"If he is telling the truth," said Sola.

"Of course I'm telling the truth, Sola! By Valerie!" said Harold.

"By Thommo!" she replied, gritting her teeth.

"Let's leave. I've lost enough today... wait a minute, where is my sword?" Gladius touched his leather sword belt. It was empty. He touched it once more and then a third time. As if the next time it would be the charm and the sword would magically be there. But the sword didn't appear, so his scowl darkened as he looked at Harold.

"Too late to look for it. We'll check tomorrow. We don't want to risk Melana waking up now!" said Harold.

The party left the witch's house and headed back to the tavern for a restful night of sleep, a comfort that isn't guaranteed on a journey once you've left town.

It was a sunny morning down at Little Mandy's Tavern. The party was staying in the same room with three beds made of cloth, not the most comfortable but the best lodging they could get for so cheap a price in Cottonfield. Their room had few decorations; it was mainly the three beds, three nightstands, and a small wooden cabinet for clothes and any items guests might want locked. There were some dark brown curtains on the windows pointing north, where Melana's tower was. The window was open and a fresh breeze flew in.

The guest rooms were all on the second floor of the tavern. There were eight of them. Four on each side of a long corridor. And at the end of the corridor was a wash room, where guests could fill a wooden bucket with water from a larger pool of water to wash their faces in. On the other end of the corridor, at the western end of the floor, there were the wooden stairs that led to the first floor.

"What a nice day to apologize and see a naked woman," said Harold, stretching on his bed.

"Hmm. Ouch, my head hurts," said Gladius. "How much did I drink last night? Wait, I remember. My shield! My sword!"

"Don't worry, Gladius. You probably lost it in the bushes next to Melana's house. You can look for it once she takes me and the cat inside," said Harold.

"Fine!" he replied.

"Let me clean my face and carry the cat to her," said Harold. He left the room and went towards the washer room carrying their room's wooden bucket, returning with it full. He put some water on his face and looked at his reflection in a small dagger he carried on his waist. After finishing, he poured the rest of the water out the window.

Once awakened, Harold was ready to check the cat. He went next to his bed, where he had left some bags. The potato bag with the cat was next to a cloth-wrapped glass shield, the one they were meant to carry to Midport. He picked up the potato bag and lifted it. The bag was just as heavy as before but there was no movement inside.

"Here, kitty, kitty. Wait, why isn't it moving?" Harold opened the bag, and the cat was dead. It had glassy eyes and remained still. Harold poked the cat and there was no movement.

"Valerie be damned, we killed the cat!" Harold yelled. "By Valerie!"

"What are you going to do now, genius?" said Sola as she tried to untangle her hair.

"Shut up, Sola. Can't you heal him or something?" Harold asked.

"I don't remember any resurrection spells. Weird, I could swear I learned resurrection spells at Thommo's Cleric School. Maybe I can look them over in my book."

Sola fetched her spell book from one of her leather bags on the floor, next to her armor. The book was leather bound with an ashy grey tint. She opened it and flipped through some pages before landing on one and said, "There is a page for resurrection spells, but it is blank! What does this mean?"

" We need to find a new black cat with green eyes. How hard could that be?" Harold said.

"I need to look for my sword," said Gladius.

"Maybe we can go see if your sword is there near her house and also look for a similar cat," said Harold.

"Alright, let's go," said Gladius.

Gladius and Harold were about to leave the room, they heard cries from the witch's tower.

"Emerald! Emerald! Where are you?"

"By Thommo's beard! You can hear her cries from far away. Harold, you should tell her the truth," said Sola.

"No! Let's find a cat and be done with it. In fact, let's see if they are selling some at the fair," he said.

The fair in the center of town had everything from fruits and fresh meat to cow hides and small animals for sale. Gladius and Harold went together as Gladius wanted to look for his sword in Melana's backyard. Harold went to the cat and dog salesman, a hunched older man with a crooked nose and black eyes.

"I want a black cat with green eyes," Harold said.

"Male or female?" he asked.

"I don't know... male," Harold said.

"With or without testicles?"

"I don't know, what do you recommend?"

"Well, if you keep its testicles, it tends to go out at night. If you have me remove them, it behaves better," said the salesman.

"Just cut them off, then," said Harold.

"I can see you are in a hurry, so that will be five pieces of silver," the salesman said.

"Five pieces of silver? You know what, alright. Hey, kitty. We are naming you Emerald now," said Harold.

"Now can we go and give Melana the cat, find my sword, and be done with this whole situation?" asked Gladius.

"Yes, let's go," said Harold.

Gladius and Harold called Sola from outside the tavern under their guest room's window. Sola said, "Be right down!"

Once Sola came to meet them outside the tavern, the party approached the witch's tower. Sola was yawning and still trying to untangle her hair at the edge of the garden far from the door. Gladius was looking over the fence for his sword, and Harold was trying to keep the cat still.

"Emerald! Emerald! Oh, by Valerie, what have I done! Emerald!" Melana cried from her tower.

Harold knocked on the door.

Melana opened the door and her face went from desperation to disgust. "You! What are you doing here?"

"I heard you lost your cat," said Harold.

"Yes! Have you seen it?" she asked.

"I saw it walking around near the tavern, so I just picked it up and put it in this bag. Here it is," he said.

"Oh, Emerald! Wait." The witch's smile faded and she looked piercingly at Harold. "Emerald was a girl, not a boy."

"Oh... wrong cat, then," he said.

"How did you know I was looking for Emerald? And what are that cleric and cavaliere doing in my backyard? The cleric knocked on my door last night. What happened? What have you done to my cat?" said Melana.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to her, and I heard your cries for help. Everyone in the tavern could hear them," said Harold.

"Then why did your friend knock on my door last night? Then I passed out, my window was broken, and suddenly my cat was gone? How can you explain that?" Melana asked.

"I don't know. But if you don't want this cat then I'll throw it away."

"Don't throw it away. Valerie damn you! Don't you have a heart? And you, over there! Why are you searching my garden?"

"I'm just looking around, waiting for Harold," said Gladius. "I don't see my sword anywhere! I knew we shouldn't have messed around with that red orb. It probably took my sword alongside my shield! Cursed be thy name, Harold! I want my sword and shield back!"

"Wait, what? You have seen the orb?" said Melana.

"What orb? I don't know what they are talking about," said Harold.

Melana turned to look at Harold; there was a red flame in the reflection of her eyes, as if she was about to set Harold on fire. "Listen to me carefully. If you don't, the entire world could end, you little shit. What do you know about the orb? What happened last night?" she asked.

"You promise you won't get mad?" asked Harold.

"Yes," she said.

"Sola saw you fall, so we came to help. We put you on your couch. There was a red orb floating about in the room. It told us we had to make a wish, so we did," said Harold.

"What was the wish?" Melana asked.

"I asked it to help me find your cat and in exchange, it could have Gladius's shield. Then, it disappeared, his shield was gone, and the cat was in my bag," said Harold.

"Why did you want to find my cat? What was the big plan?" she asked.

"I just wanted to protect your cat from the red orb is all," said Harold.

"And then you carried my cat away in your bag and only brought the cat now? Stop lying to me! What was the wish?" she asked.

"Alright. Alright. The truth is, I wanted to kidnap your cat; that way, I could come here with it once you freaked out looking for it, and then you'd accept my apologies for hiding in your closet," he said.

"Just tell me where my cat is," Melana said.

"When we woke today, it was dead in the bag," he said.

"Dead? You killed my cat! I will murder you. Cleric, why didn't you resurrect my cat?" Melana asked Sola.

"That's the funny thing in my—" Sola began.

"Please tell me what's funny about you killing my cat and then bringing another castrated cat to trick me," said Melana.

"Well, in my book of spells..." Sola grabbed the leather-bound book from her pouch and opened it to a blank page. "I don't see any resurrection spells, and I swear I had at least two there. Now the pages are blank. I could resurrect people who have died of old age for one more day. I could also resurrect small creatures to live for a few more years as long as they had died recently, like your cat," said Sola.

"By the goddess!" Melana cried and fell down on her couch, head looking upwards. Her eyes widened.

"Listen, I know you are upset that your cat died of natural causes, but—" said Harold as he put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"Don't start," Melana said. "Cavaliere, cleric, come inside and close the door!"

They all sat in her living room. "I need to say something," Melana said. "This is bigger than my cat, and it's bigger than your sword and shield, and it's bigger than your apologies, dwarf."

Harold said, "I'm not a dwarf. I'm just a short man."

"It never gets better with you, does it?" Melana said.

"That red orb only appears in specific circumstances. It takes the right ingredients, the right coming of age, and the right blood spilled. Ten years ago, my mother told me I'd have to summon the orb. Yesterday was the right day to do it and ask it to return the dragons to the land. My mother said I had to do it or the world would end. Problem is, I asked, but I didn't give anything explicitly to the orb."

"Oh, don't worry about that. We overrode your ask. We asked for the cat in the bag and gave Gladius's shield. So now all is good," said Harold.

"You don't understand! The red orb takes in two requests. I gave it the first, you gave the last. It's good custom to ask the larger ask first and then ask a small thing last. So at least your request was small, a cat in the bag. But the problem is, since you didn't give the first request's sacrifice, the red orb decided by itself. We don't know what was sacrificed!" said Melana.

"We do. We didn't give it my sword and now it's gone," said Gladius.

"And the resurrection spells!" said Sola.

"By the goddess, the disaster must be bigger than what I thought. Not only did I lose my dear Emerald, and you will pay for that, dwarf!" said Melana.

"Not a dwarf," said Harold.

"I don't care! Not only did I lose my cat, but there is also no telling what damage you all caused to the world," cried Melana.

"Alright, that was good and all, but since you don't want this new cat, I guess I'm setting it free and we are going to Midport," said Harold.

"No! You don't get it. We must fix this problem," said Melana.

"Just summon that red orb thing again and ask to return what it took," said Harold.

"I can't do that. The right window only comes every 1266 years. We can't ask the orb again. Unless you are planning on living for 1266 more years, we need to find another way to fix this," said Melana.

"We don't even know what it took. What could we do?" asked Harold.

"I want my sword!" said Gladius.

"We need resurrection spells. This will cripple the entire cleric organization; we make the most coin out of resurrections!" cried Sola.

"I need to take this glass shield piece of shit to Midport, and that's what I'm doing. Come on, Sola, Gladius," said Harold.

"I am not going without my sword. Melana, how can I get my sword and shield back?" asked Gladius.

"I said I can give you a better shield and I'm sure we can find a better sword," said Harold.

Melana said, "We need to consult the Council of Misurn."

"I thought the council had been destroyed a long time ago," said Sola.

"There is no telling what you did yesterday. You must remain in this city until I can contact the council and see what we can do," said Melana.

"I don't care about any of this. Why would I stay in this city? I got business in Midport," said Harold.

Melana spoke in an ancient tongue. Small, flickering lights illuminated the air, almost imperceptible unless you looked at her hands, which Sola did. The small lights flew towards Harold's pants. Melana let a small smile curl her mouth.

"What in the hells did you do to me?" asked Harold.

"I cast a simple spell. One especially for you, to bind the thing you value the most in the world," said Melana with a smile.

"What is it, witch?" asked Harold.

"If you leave this city without me, your dick will fall off," said Melana.

"What? May Valerie curse you! I'm going to kill you."

Gladius held Harold by the arms as the little man yelled, "I will kill you, witch!"

"If you really wanted to leave, why didn't you do so yesterday?" the witch replied.

"I wanted a quick night with you and then I'd be off," he said.

"You ain't getting that, either. I think this curse suits you," Melana said. "I will be in touch. In the meantime, enjoy the town. We are harvesting, and there is lots of corn to be eaten, and bread."

Gladius looked at the floor as his left hand twitched. He held it still with his right hand. Noticing this, Sola narrowed her eyes at Gladius.

"Something wrong, Gladius?" asked Sola.

"No, nothing," said Gladius.

"That's weird, even for you," said Sola.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Gladius.

"Fine. Let's regroup at the tavern and see what we can do to pass the time," said Harold as he gave up his struggle.