The Flying Emporium

Severin was standing in the backroom of his store where Emily was already back at work, having completed their previous task of sorting in the new goods, during which they had been so rudely interrupted. There was as an unfamiliar bottle in his hands and he was only vaguely aware of how it had gotten there. He just stood there absentmindedly, still trying to make sense of what had just happened and not quite sure of his own feelings.

On the one hand, he was grateful to Jasmine for her intervention. On the other, he was upset with her for speaking on his behalf, claiming he would be willing to do business with the creature in the future.

Not because he was unwilling to do so. But because he simply didn’t know yet.

Then again, he understood her motivation, or at least he thought he did.

Even Jasmine probably didn’t quite realize just how disturbing, how just not-normal this whole incident was for him, who, quite literally, came from a whole different world.

Even if she did, did she even care? After all, she most definitely had her own agenda in all of this. Even in his current state, it had been obvious that it hadn’t been for his sake- not exclusively at least- when she insisted on talking with the creature in private; obviously she pursued a political goal which might or might not concern the whole of Malcos. And ultimately that was her one, first and foremost obligation as the [Princess] - to further the interests of Malcos as a whole; assuming anything else, that she acted solely out of concern for him, would most definitely be a mistake, he thought, disillusioned.

Still, at one point, he would still have to think about the matter-whether or not to admit the creature in the future-but not today. Hopefully, whatever the two representatives of their respective clans had to discuss would occupy them for at least a few hours until after closing time.

More than anything else, however, he was preoccupied by a different matter, which lay heavily on his conscience.

The doubts. And the overwhelming sense of guilt that came with it.

Wasn’t all this his fault? Hadn’t he overreacted when he banished the saurian?

All this would never have happened if he hadn’t blacklisted that creature to begin with. If only his temper hadn’t once again gotten the better of him just because of some stupid words.

If only… No! That creature had insulted not just him, but someone very dear to him. A child. Unprovoked.

He had no obligation entertaining such behaviour in his store. Someone like that was not welcome here; especially not since it was them wanting something of him, and not the other way round.

No, it was the only correct choice to deny that creature entry to his premises and access to his wares.

It was just that… for its transgression, he had been willing to go so far as to drop the creature to its death. The fact that things turned out different than originally intended, didn’t change the morality of his actions.

The outcome was ultimately the result of his actions-just that instead of colliding with the ground a few kilometers below them, the creature instead collided with a sword.

No, it wasn’t exactly the same, of course not. But it was close enough for Severin to lose his mind.

Maybe he had set something in motion. Maybe the moment he had pulled the trigger, blacklisting the creature, its fate had already been sealed?

Who knew in this world?

The thoughts drove him insa-

“Severin? Are you okay?” A concerned voice reached out so him.

“Uh?”

“You… you have just been standing there. Are... are you okay? What happened?” The anxious expression on the girl’s face and the realization that he really had just been standing there for at least a whole minute only intensified his feelings of guilt and shame.

“Ye-yes, of course. Everything is fine. I am fine. I have just been thinking; nothing serious.”

“Are you... sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. Come here.” Saying that, it was he who took a step forward and walked towards the unconvinced girl, giving her a big hug; just as much to reassure her as to reassure himself.

In reality, however, nothing was fine.

Over the course of the next few hours, though luckily not approached by either Jasmine or the scaled creature, time and time again he simply just stood there, staring into the void; and growing more ashamed each time he caught himself doing so.

Until...

“Your potion! It’s boili-” The warning came but a moment too late. A single drop of the hot, viscous liquid splashed onto Severin’s bare hand, causing him to shout in pain.

“Ooutch!! Fuck!” involuntarily Severin flinched with his burnt hand, knocking over a whole array of glassware.

The second outburst was harsher than the first.

“Fuck! Fuck this shit! Fuck this whol-” Just in time, he managed to stop himself from saying something he might later regret.

But in his mind, the damage was already done. He had already done it. Again.

And on the very same day he had pledged to better himself and to be more considerate of Emily…

“Severin?” asked a small voice. “Are you-”

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m fine. Why don’t you call it a day? I’ll take care of this mess. I-”

“Are you sure you are-”

“Yes. Really.” Again, he cut her off, with more emphasis than he intended. “The kitchen should still be open for a few more minutes. I’m sure if you hurry up, Bandur will whip something up for you.”

“Okay.” Again the small voice.

Severin couldn’t bring himself to look the girl in the eyes and waited until he heard the door close behind him.

“FUCK!” With one big, angry motion, he swept another beaker off the workbench before him. “Just what the hell is wrong with me,” his voice was now devoid of anger and instead filled with disappointment; disappointment mostly in himself. Suddenly, he felt very tired.

But he didn’t rest. He knelt down on the floor and, silently, began picking up the scattered shards of broken glass.

Click

By the time he heard the door open again, his hands were already bloody and covered in cuts.

“I said I don’t need any-”

“Quite the mess you made here, lad.”

“Bandur? What are you doing here?

“Don’t you think I should be asking you that question? Emily… seemed concerned, you know?”

“Em…” Sigh “I told her not to worry.”

In response, the dwarf crossed his arms.

“Really? Looks very worrisome to me. So, tell me, what happened? I heard some talk about a group of saurians making trouble?”

“Making…making trouble?” With that, the floodgates once again opened. Getting louder with every word, he repeated, “Making trouble?!

That’s what you people around here call it? Trouble?! Yeah, I guess a fucking cut off head could be considered troublesome!

Fuck! Got to be kidding me! People act like it’s nothing. Like somehow I’m the insane one. What a joke. But I guess I should have known that after that spectacle during the Games. Some straight up medieval stuff going on, and people are celebrating it like it’s some fucking movie! All fun and games, and the messier the better. Of course I shouldn’t be surprised! Shit. Like unciv-” Again Severin stopped himself, but unlike earlier when he talked to Emily, this time he had already said more than enough; he felt he crossed a line.

“Where I am from… ah, forget it! I… I shouldn’t have-” His voice now sounded almost apologetic, as much as his current agitation allowed for at least. Not because he was actually sorry for his words- he meant every word. Probably. Maybe.- but because he feared he may have just, irrevocably, have burned several bridges all at once.

“You know,” Bandur said calmly, as if he hadn’t just witnessed Severin’s by far most extreme outburst and its insulting implications, “you have never actually spoken about that place. Your home, I mean. Where you are from. Tell me about it.”