Lisha and the Troubled Tavern

     “Jeran’s up to something, Kayla.”

     “Well, hello to you, too, Lisha.” Kayla chuckled to herself as she placed the last of her “Super Special Potion” on a shelf marked with a star and moon design, a perfect complement to her celestial outfit. “Did he challenge Rohane to something silly again?”

     “Silly” could mean anything these days. Recently, he challenged Sir Rohane to a log rolling competition during a storm… causing them both to shiver in front of a fire, covered in blankets, and soaked to the bone. Between their sniffles and sneezes, both knights insisted they had won.

     “No.” Lisha hummed out loud as if questioning this. “Not this time, anyway.”

     “Something duel-related?”

     The Aisha shook her head. “Nothing like that. It’s more like… he’s being secretive.”

     “Oh?” There was a rise in Kayla’s voice. Her long, floppy ears did likewise.

     “Yeah. He keeps telling me that Tuesday is ‘knight’s night,’ and that he’s just going out on patrol but…”

     Kayla wiggled in place, feeling a flutter of excitement in her heart. “But?”

     “There’s more going on than that, there has to be.”

     Kayla stepped down the rungs in a hurry. “And you wanna follow him, right?” A mischievous smirk came to her red Zafara face as she pressed, “You know you want to.”

     Lisha fidgeted for a moment, as if a child called out on bad behavior. “I-I mean, we’re both adults and he’s got a right to his privacy, and… like …” she groaned, fighting against an internal monologue that would surely critique her actions later. A part of her really wanted to know where Jeran was going. Maybe it was the curiosity in her, the scholar who needed to understand everything, or… maybe she was just a jealous sibling who felt left out of her brother’s schemes. It was the second one, she decided.

     It took a few skips for Kayla to approach her collection of potions. A sign on the table beckoned customers: “potions for all occasions!” With a flourish, she grabbed a vial from a hidden shelf and gently shook it. “You want an invisibility potion, right? I gotcha, fam.”

     A crease formed on Lisha’s forehead that made her look older than her otherwise youthful face. “Actually…” as she said this, the Zafara visibly deflated. “I was hoping to show you a spell instead. Care to watch?”

     “Watch…?” Kayla’s joyous tone flattened. “Again?”

     “Not that, uh,” Lisha waved her hands, frantically speeding up with each word, “not that I don’t trust your potions—I do! Trust them. Trust you, in fact. You’re great at making potions, you know that?”

     “Yeah.” The Zafara’s shoulders sagged as she put the vial back onto a nearby table with a sigh. “I know.”

     Ever since the nightmare incident with Rohane, Lisha had been hesitant about using any of Kayla’s concoctions, even the basic healing ones. Not to say that she didn’t otherwise support her friend. Lisha would be among the first to advocate for Kayla, even boast her work as among the best the Kingdom had ever seen. But in terms of using the potions herself… that was another matter entirely.

     “I’m sorry, Kayla…” Lisha couldn’t help but avoid her friend’s gaze as she lifted her wand out of the holster around her waist. When Kayla didn’t reply, she hastily added, “maybe next time, if that’s alright?”

     “It’s…” That’s what she had said the last three times, Kayla thought, forcing a grin and speaking in a strained voice. “It’s okay. I’m happy to see your spell.”

     Lisha’s voice softened. “Thanks.” Her friend simply nodded. “This spell is reliable—a few high-level magic texts mention it—but it has an odd quirk.”

     Instead of replying, Kayla lifted her gaze from the floor and landed on the Wand of Supernova, the top of which glowed a halo of gold. It had a high capability for spellcasting with a trade off in control. Things worked out most of the time, but occasionally—

     “If I get wet,” continued the Aisha while Kayla found herself fighting to keep focused, “the spell fizzles out, so no doing this on a rainy day.”

     Luckily, tonight would be dry as a bone. In fact, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Most of the early spring it would rain—sometimes even snow. This year there was none of that; many of the farmers expressed concerns that there might be droughts, come summer.

     Lisha twirled the Wand of Supernova, feeling a pulse of energy resonating from her core to the magical artefact. Few could doubt that Lisha had a gift for magic, one fostered by her fiery spirit and diligent study. Even at her young age, she could boast many spells of her own design—a few of them already featured in textbooks.

     She took a deep breath before gently tapping the wand to her cape.

     “And you’re sure this is a safe spell, right?” asked Kayla, a hint of worry to her voice. “No chance of anything going wrong? I won’t be able to see you, after all.”

     Lisha had to stifle a laugh so as not to seem unkind. The Zafara meant it with concern, of course, but given Kayla’s track record for “unexpected” results… well, it was a nice thought, anyway.

     “Refractio.”

     A flash of light scattered from the wand. Before Kayla could blink, nothing remained where her friend stood, only air.

     Kayla’s fur stood on end as her heartrate spiked. “Lisha?! Lisha, are you okay?”

     There came a poke at Kayla’s back, causing her to jump forward with an “Eep!”

     “I’m okay.” One wouldn’t see it, but based on the rise in her voice, Lisha was grinning from ear to ear.

     Kayla was still catching her breath, her heart practically pounding into her ears.

     “At least we know it works well,” Lisha continued, “And it looks like I can move somewhat silently, too. I’ll have to note that for later.”

     Behind Kayla’s workstation was a small water spigot. When a sudden stream of water started pouring into a basin, the Zafara jumped yet again. “Chains and daggers!” she shouted, taking one out of her Darigan friend’s repertoire.

     “Oops,” Lisha said with an implied shrug, clearly enjoying herself. A few seconds after the water turned on, Lisha was visible again, having splashed water from her free hand to her body. Or at least partially visible. Half of her was still hidden. “Looks like I need more than a little sprinkle to turn fully visible again…”

     Kayla took a few deep breaths, trying to get her mile-a-minute brain to subside. She spared a withering glance at her potions before asking, “and you’re sure you don’t want to have one—you know, as a backup?”

     “I’m good.” Water dripped from her cape to the shop floor and her shoes squeaked as they moved. When she detected a sad groan from her friend, she added, “thanks, though, I appreciate it.”

     Luckily, Kayla always kept plenty of towels around. A small sign hung from her towel rack (used for anything from potion spills to drying off wet customers and their Petpets) that read: “the most massively useful thing an interworld traveller can have.” It was, in part, why the mage chose her shop to test the spell in the first place. Lisha thought about asking childhood friends, Morris and Boris, but given the squires’ near idealization of Sir Rohane and her brother, they’d be tightlipped about “knight’s night”—or worse, give the knights a heads up on her investigation.

     Dried off and brimming with excitement, the Aisha handed off the towel and gave Kayla a side hug. “I knew I could count on you—thanks for your help.”

     Kayla looked like she wanted to say something else, but settled on, “Don’t mention it.”

     There was a mischievous glint in Lisha’s eyes. “The next time you see me, I’ll know exactly what my big brother’s secret is all about.”

     As the shop doorbell jingled open and closed, Kayla swung around towards a pile of vials and took hold of one—the very same one that Lisha rejected. As she pulled the cork off the vial, she muttered to no one in particular, “Not if I figure it out first.”

     ~x~

     Evening came.

     An invisible Lisha leaned on the cobble wall outside her brother’s office, twiddling her thumbs for almost an hour before the door swung open. Jeran seemed in a simply jubilant mood; his Blue Lupe tail swished from side-to-side. He wore a brown tabard with trousers, and a long, black garment hung over his left arm. It wasn’t often that Lisha saw her brother wearing dark colors; most of his wardrobe was blue, red, or gold. Not that he cared much for dressing up, but he usually wore something a little nicer if going out on the town. Curious, Lisha took a few steps closer to get a better look—

     Jeran wheeled around. He sniffed the air, his tail still and expression fierce.

      Lisha froze. Could he smell her? It has been two days since I last bathed, she thought to herself with a flush. When he took a step closer, nose leading his charge, her heart nearly jumped into her throat. One hand sat at his waist where a short sword laid. For a moment, Lisha considered giving it all up—what was she thinking tailing a knight? Of course, he’d be wary of danger!

     Just then, a Psimouse scurried behind her, letting out a startled squeak at being discovered. Jeran’s shoulders relaxed, as did his sword hand as he let out a relieved chuckle and continued along his route.

     It took every ounce of self-control to keep her breathing level. If she was going to keep pace with him, she’d have to hurry; the much taller Lupe walked so quickly that she had to jog. When he finally stopped at the palace rose garden, she let out a sigh of relief. Or she would have, if not for a startling discovery.

     He wasn’t alone. Two other figures sat opposite one another in the waning light. They were both wearing long cloaks that covered their features, although the one’s cloak hood rose higher than the other, making him appear taller.

     Lisha squinted, trying, and failing to identify the hidden pair. But why in Neopia would Jeran, the exemplar knight, the champion of Meridell, her big brother be meeting with shady Neopians?

     “Took you long enough,” said the taller Neopian. The baritone voice seemed oddly familiar. There was a hint of playfulness in his tone that Lisha found strange.

     “We almost left without you,” started a much deeper voice. He, too, didn’t sound entirely serious.

     “Sorry,” Jeran sighed, slipping on the black garment. It hid all but his snout and his blue tail. “I got held up with work, but I’m here now.”

     Lisha crept closer, avoiding any crunchy leaves or twigs.

     “There’s no time for work on ‘knight’s night,’” came the deeper one, elbowing her brother. When he did this, Lisha scoffed, irrationally angry at this Neopian who laid a hand on him.

     The taller one’s hood rose, revealing long ears that seemed to move like little radar detectors. “Did you hear something?”

     Lisha sucked in her breath.

     For a moment, the trio looked around before Jeran shrugged, passing it off as a Petpet in the garden. All three of them began walking towards the town, with the long-eared one looking over his shoulder every now and then, eliciting a teasing comment from Jeran.

     It was rare for Lisha to be out in town during the evening. Not that there was anything inherently dangerous about it, just that she preferred the familiarity of the daily hubbub. Tonight, street vendors lined the main boulevard selling everything from sugary sweets to skewered meat; one had a cart of handheld fireworks, much to the delight of the teenagers who ran atop cobblestone walls with sparklers in tow.

     On a normal day, all this excitement would be fine. Fun, even. But when you’re a short, invisible Aisha trying to follow three hooded figures through lantern-lit streets and back alleys… it was less fun. Much less fun. Someone even stepped on her foot, a Gelert with a baked potato in his hand. After she let out a yelp, the shocked Neopian promptly dropped his snack to the ground. This, at least, slowed down her brother’s group enough to find them… and follow them all the way to a—

     “They really need to fix their sign,” said the long-eared one.

     “Nah,” said Jeran with a laugh, “I think it adds to the charm.”

     Charm is not the word that Lisha would use to describe the rundown building or the rust-covered, half-fallen sign that swung haphazardly in the light breeze. Lisha involuntarily shivered as she strained to read the faded words: “The Mangled Marrow.” A few of the smaller windows had cracks—one even had a hole in it. Someone graffitied the words “Chet Flash wuz here” in red at the bottom of the door, which squeaked loudly whenever it opened. A basket of flowers dangled under a flickering lamp post… all wilted from prolonged neglect.

     It took a few minutes for Lisha to slip inside. The second she did, a mixture of odours assaulted her nose: sweat, hot cooking oil, soda, and… bizarrely enough, something that smelled like baked goods? She had to cover her face while avoiding the various rough and tumble Neopians belching, shouting, arm wrestling, chewing fried food with their mouths open, and gambling over games of chance. Some hid their faces with hoods, others showed off scars on their cheeks, neck and back.

     Panic set in. Could Jeran be doing something bad? There’s no way he could be doing something bad, right? Who would even believe—

     A gruff Tuskaninny slammed her fist on a wooden table, causing Lisha to jump up and hit a passing serving wench’s tray. A pitcher of soda hurled through the air and landed atop a card table… thoroughly soaking a particularly menacing Mynci and a nearby burlap doll.

     The server, a muscular purple Zafara with a “I *heart* mom” tattoo on her neck, set to offering towels and cleaning up the mess while saying, “so sorry, hun,” at least a dozen times to Frank… Lisha had to assume that was the Mynci’s name. But Frank wasn’t at all upset with the Zafara, who he called Bess. He jabbed a finger at another Neopian, an enormous, hulking Grarrl with crocheting needles in his hands.

     “I know you did this, Johnny,” Frank snarled. “I won that crocheting contest fair and honest-like.”

     The Grarrl let out a loud huff, placing his neon pink scarf with sword and weapon designs to the side. “I ain’t no sore loser, Frank. Not like you.”

      Frank wrung out the last of the liquid from the doll’s dress and replaced it with a black one. Apparently, he had a few doll dresses in his travel pack. The word “destroy” was stitched in red and a heart flanked each side of the word. “You’re still angry over that missed stitch. And Princess Skullcrusher”—he waggled the doll in front of himself—“is telling me that she wants a little revenge for making her dress all soggy.”

     “This oughta be good,” A Krawk said, before removing a red cupcake out of a tray and taking one big, dramatic bite. “Gotta love the flavour of a good brawl.”

     At this point, Lisha noticed her brother and his companions standing nearby. It appeared that one of them prepared to get involved. The Wand of Supernova, invisible though it may be to them, hummed from her side, beckoning her. Would a slowing spell work here? Maybe even a ward of silence? Or a sudden burst of light—something to distract them while she escaped? Or maybe even a—

     Before she could cast anything, the Grarrl reached out towards the bar table and grabbed a water pitcher, much to the grief of a Skeith bartender. With a single, fluid motion, he flung it forward, hurtling towards Frank… and Lisha. One of the hooded Neopians leapt up to catch it but tripped over Lisha’s robe just as his hand connected with the pitcher handle. Both of them fell to the ground with a loud thud, followed shortly by the now empty water pitcher. Water flew everywhere, spraying everyone in the vicinity. All Lisha could see were stars… and they seemed to be moving. A cacophony of Neopians spoke, a blur of overlapping words until she heard something that made her blood run cold.

     “Lisha?!” It was Jeran. “Kayla, too!? What in Skarl’s name—"

     Wait. She took a closer look at the stars and followed them up to a Red Zafara with a bunch of potions in her hands. A few she recognized as minor blast and defence potions. Kayla?!

     “What are you two doing here?” asked one of the hooded Neopians, his hood slipping enough to reveal a White Blumaroo face and ears… and a look fraught with frustration and concern. “Why did you follow us?”

     Beside her was a soaked Blue Wocky. Lisha recognized him as Danner, one of the court’s best archers and Jeran’s closest friends. He brushed aside a wet lock of fur from his eyes, thoroughly unamused now that his hood had dropped. “Care to explain?”

     Meanwhile, the cupcake-eating Krawk placed another tray of baked goods on the table. Behind it was a little sign that said, “entertainment snacks, 1,000 NP a pop.” A few Neopians tossed bags of coin in return for one or two of them, a gesture that had the bartender clamoring for a cut of the dough.

     Johnny the Grarrl took a step forward, showing a row of pointed teeth. “You got some nerve, squirt…”

     Jeran slid his hand on the pommel of his short sword and began to slide it up.

     The Blumaroo, Lisha assumed it to be Sir Rohane, looked ready to tackle the guy to the ground. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, voice low and dangerous. Danner jumped back to his feet, ready to back up the team.

     Kayla primed a blast potion while chugging down a defense potion, summoning a shielding wall around her and the rest of the group. Lisha, on the other hand, ran through a list of spells she could use that wouldn’t do more than stunning damage… and minimize damage to the rickety old tavern. She settled on a freeze spell that would—

     Johnny threw his leather jacket off to the side. Below it was a crocheted sweater that simply said, ‘Beast Mode.’ “Blast me, full on, mage kid. You, too, potion chick.”

     Lisha’s jaw dropped.

     “What?” both ladies said it in unison.

     “Either you blast, or I crash.” He brought his fists up. The Skeith bartender shook his head while the server put her hands on her hips. Before Johnny could make a move, Kayla tossed a blast potion, striking him in the face. He reeled back. Immediately after, Lisha swished her wand, and a frozen beam instantly incased him in ice.”

     Instead of looking angry, he looked ecstatic and laughed hard enough to free his head from the prison. Bess set to chiseling the rest of it off, muttering something about needing tips for excellent service.

     “H-h-hey, Blue, why didn’t you b-b-bring these two along with you b-before?” asked Johnny between bouts of shivering.

     “Uhh,” the Wocky just let out a sigh, surprisingly unaffected by all the shenanigans. “I’ll leave that to Tail, here.”

     Jeran couldn’t help but rub at the back of his neck as his sister and her friend gave him a questioning look. “I wanted to have a night to be a regular guy, you know? We’re adults now, Lisha, and I—”

     “I know,” responded Lisha, her shoulders sagging some as the patrons went back to their business as usual, “but I… I was worried. And you were being so secretive about it, I just…”

     “Sometimes, it’s good to have some time away from your family.” Jeran said it with a sad smile.

     Rohane’s arms crossed. “But if they don’t know where you are, your sibling will look for you, trust me on that one.”

     “Fine, fair point.” Jeran let out a defeated grunt. “You win this round, Ears.”

     Frank broke the awkward silence by barging in, doll in hand. “They’re rough; they’re tough. They need to sign Princess Skullcrusher’s sundress, pronto.”

     The two shared a look, shrugging before signing in quill ink. While Frank admired their autographs with a grin, Lisha couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you follow me?” It seemed silly, considering the circumstances.

     Kayla pulled her star-clad hat down far enough to hide her eyes. “Because… I was worried.” When Lisha tilted her head as if to question if that were all, she continued, “and I wanted to show you that my potions could be just as helpful as your magic.”

     “They’re totally helpful! You’re—”

      “A potionmaster, yeah. But one whose creations you’ve avoided using for months.” There was a glisten in her eyes. “I know I’ve made mistakes, that I’ve tested your trust, but I want to show you that I could make something safe. Something you could rely on.”

     “Oh, Kayla…” Lisha offered a hug, one that her friend gladly took. “Thanks for coming to my aid.”

     “Always.”

     After a few moments, Lisha took another look around. Neopians gamed, gathered, and laughed together. Maybe that’s why Jeran liked it so much here?

      “Well, anyways,” there was a tug of guilt at the back of Lisha’s mind that wouldn’t leave her be. “I… I should really get going,” she softly before tightening her robe and walking towards the front door. A few of the patrons’ eyes followed when she dropped a bag of Neopoints into the tip jar.

     “Me, too,” echoed Kayla. “Sorry about all this.”

     “Wait.”

     It was Jeran.

     “But I thought…” she didn’t turn back. “I thought you wanted a break from me?”

     Jeran grimaced. “I… could have been better about telling you what I’ve been up to, sorry for leaving you in the dark.”

     Danner scurried over and held out a glass cup to the both of them. “What Tail—that’s his nickname here, by the way—is trying to say is we have a bowl of fried marrow strips and an extra pitcher of blood orange soda on the table.” Lisha hesitated for a moment before accepting it.

     “And I was thinking…” her brother waited until Lisha hopped up on a stool; Kayla sat beside her. “Maybe every first Tuesday could be group game night? With the rest of them being knight’s night.”

     The corner of Lisha’s mouth turned up. “Would that really be okay?”

     “We could use the extra company. I mean, if you’re okay with how, uh…”

     “Rustic?” suggested Rohane.

     “… with the character of this place.” As Jeran said it, someone let out an especially loud belch.

     Lisha nodded, feeling a warmth in her heart that spread to the rest of her like a blanket. “I would like that.”

     “If they’re gonna stay, they need nicknames,” quipped the Krawk who set a cupcake in front of each of them with red frosting and skull-shaped candy. “How about…”

     “Brains.” Lisha pointed to her head.

     Kayla twirled a potion between her fingers. “And Blast.”

     Bess brought a bowl of fried calamari and placed it at the table centre. “It’s on the house, Brains and Blast,” she said with a wink. “Welcome to the Mangled Marrow.”

     The End.