8 Bar Fight

Jacob found himself in a tricky situation. Answer Angelica's question truthfully, and get admonished for being insane, or lie. The latter never sat well with him, but it was necessary.

"I'm from a far away village. We don't interact with others much. Ruins our culture, the elders say," Jacob said, by way of explanation. Angelica eyed him doubtfully, but she eventually accepted the answer when Jacob would elaborate no further.

"Maybe you'll tell me more about your home one day. Until then, let's get you a new set of clothes. You're upsetting the guests whenever you sit out here. And between me and you, Rod's getting unsettled, too," she winked, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the inn.

Without so much as an explanation as to what store they were rushing to, Angelica shoved him into a relatively well-constructed building. It seemed much more structurally sound than its neighbors, and the furnishings within were much richer than even the inn.

A thin, wiry old man approached. He stroked his beard as he looked Jacob up and down. "You're skinny. Might want to eat a bit more," the man advised absently as he resumed his inspection. Angelica attempted to stifle a giggle, but a glare from Jacob sent her into a fit of laughter. The cruel girl knew exactly what would happen as soon as he crossed that door. Damn it.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I have extra money," Jacob said. He turned to look at Angelica. "Speaking of, I can't pay for this," he told her, helplessly.

"It's on Rod. Call it an investment in not scaring people off," Angelica replied with a lazy wave of her hand. It would have been a sensible explanation if Rod's place hadn't been the only inn in Leafburrow. Visitors were forced to lodge there, whether they minded Jacob's attire or not. Jacob felt indebted to the pair more so now than ever.

"I'll be sure to thank him once we return," Jacob turned around with barely any time to spare when the tailor shoved a handful of clothes into his arms.

"It's not fitted, but it'll do for your stature. If you ever need a new set or maybe a fitting, I'll be more than happy to take your money… errr… help," the man offered, the slip in his words nearly lifting Jacob's dark mood.

Angelica dragged him out as quickly as they entered. On the way back to the inn, Jacob examined his new clothes. They, similar to Angelica's, were a soft brown. The fabric was rough, but it was better than the soiled clothing he was forced to wear.

Jacob wiped a tear from his eye, astonished by the kindness of the rugged innkeeper and the jovial girl. Without the two of them, he'd be starving or dead. He was determined to pay it back to them, somehow. For now, the only thing he could do was master the kitchen.

When they reentered the inn, the main room was in chaos. Fists were flying and tankards of ale were whizzing about the room. A weary and seething Rod stood in the middle of it all, attempting to calm the fight. It was to no avail. Why had all these fighters come to the inn so late in the evening? Dinner service was over, Jacob had thought.

The instigators of the fight was a burly man, standing much as Todd once had, and a much smaller and nimbler woman. Both were armed to the teeth, but neither – fortunately – had drawn their blades. The man was clearly reluctant to fight the woman, but the woman kept throwing mugs of alcohol, not minding when a few drops of the liquid soiled her brilliant crimson hair. Jacob watched the altercation for a while, unsure of how he could help.

Angelica was not bound by the same hesitation. She joined Rod, attempting to placate the woman. "He started it! He insulted my company!" she shouted, the fury in her eyes rising.

"That's because it's the truth," the man said off-handedly. Angelica stood in the man's face, a mighty feat given how far she had to reach on her tip-toes.

"You will cease this behavior. We don't allow fighting at the Golden Gizzard," she said, not a quiver in her voice.

The man smiled at her tenacity and leaned towards the smaller girl. "I'll stop if that bear across the room stops throwing her ale at me," he snarled.

With that, the man seemed to have gotten rid of his reluctance. He stalked towards the inebriated redhead, like a lion on the move. "Oh hell," Jacob grimaced, trying the same trick he pulled the previous night.

Molecules of air gathered around his hands at his behest, and he sent the molecules forward like a lance once he gathered the most he could. He decided not to use as much wind as the previous night' he really didn't want to collapse again.

The spear of wind ripped through the room, tipping over the man. He collapsed against the floor, leaving a stunned group of guests standing around him. The man wasn't down for long. He sat up immediately, glancing around for the caster of the spell.

Fearing precisely this situation, Jacob had taken the initiative to hide immediately after throwing the lance. He had vaulted over a table and sought refuge beneath the wooden top. Fortunately, the man gave up the search for the mage before long, grumbling as he exited the inn with a group of six other men.

A roaring cheer rose in the common room, celebrating the mystery mage who had brought an end to the disruption. Before long, however, the normal atmosphere had returned. Jacob and Angelica fixed the tables, while Rod checked on anyone caught in the crossfire.

When the common room was closed for the night, Angelica turned to Jacob, a gleam in her eyes. "What I'd give to be a wind mage like that. My mom's a fire mage, so don't tell her I said that," she whispered conspiratorially.

Jacob smiled at her excitement. He could relate. He had blasted a man with air! This was the stuff of dreams! And there wasn't even a headache that came with it this time!