Chapter 5: A Need for a Drink

'Where are you brother? ' The translation relays in mind. A surge of emotions swirl within my chest. This is the first time in years that I receive word from my brother.  After skimming over the note, I realize how strong my anger is with him. No, we were best friends at one point. Yet, 'ukunikela, ' or betrayal, is the word that comes to mind. 

"You can leave," I say to the falcon. "He doesn't deserve a reply."

Regardless of whether or not I would write a response, I have no pen. What rogue travels with a quill and ink? The bird looks at me with her head tilted to the side. Once she recognizes my disinterest in her master's letter, the falcon takes flight. I grip the paper tightly in my hand and place my sights on Brigsdale. 

"I need a drink," I sneer. 

The feeling of anger places me in a negative frame of mind. As I reach town, I raise my hood. 'There is no need for social interaction.' The sunlight hangs low once I step into town. There are not many people present in the streets. 'A quiet place I assume.' If only my mind can reflect the same. 

While in a new town, the best means of direction is hearing. I use my ears to pinpoint where the most sound is present. After all, sleepy town or not, there's always a rowdy tavern. My feet turn towards the right. Walking along strange streets, my attention turns from my brother's letter and focuses on finding a place to rest. After passing by several intersecting paths, I begin to hear the typical sounds found in a tavern. 

"Welcome to The Swan!" a voice shouts from within a door frame.

The greeting takes me by surprise. I glance towards the direction of the stranger. A slim gent with his cap raised provides a warm welcome. 

"You are looking for a bite, no?" He places both hands on hips. "This is the best tavern in Brigsdale!"

"Is that so?" I say with a short smile. "What about a drink?"

"Oh, the best in town as well." The man adds a dramatic bow. "The first mug is on the house with the purchase of dinner."

The deal is favorable. I enter The White Swan and find the most secluded table. There is a single seating in the far-left corner. The host is quick to take my order. 

"Steak and potatoes please," I request in a polite manner. 

"That's a great choice," the man remarks. "We season the potatoes with rosemary."

"Sounds savory," I say with an awkward smile. "Thank you."

He leaves the table with a childish grin. While sitting alone, I feel a sharp prick in my hand. I glance down to see that my fist is held too tightly. 'Ease your grip,' my voice chimes in my mind. I listen and unveil my brother's letter. The paper is crumpled. Further, my nails have dug into my skin. 'Frustration,' the emotion pulses through my veins. The waiter returns with a mug and plate. 

"Enjoy!" he says with a broad smile. 

I nod in appreciation. Seeing how dismissive my attitude is becoming, the man proceeds to give me space. I inhale deeply. The steak and potatoes are seasoned well. My knife cuts through the steak without friction. Food satiates my hunger while providing a means of distraction. Once the meal is finished, I insist on staying at the table. The waiter gives me another mug. Yet, the longer I sit the more I think about Ihlathi...

***

"What are you suggesting?" I reproach my twin.

"We've got to leave," Ihlathi declares as though escape will be simple. "Staying here will be the death of us."

I look past my brother. My gaze turns to the window. Outside, the sky looks inviting. Birds soar across the blue. If only we can be as free as the sparrow. I sigh and shake my head.

"Father's been devastated," I remark with a frown. "Leaving him alone will only bring him ruin."

"Usho ukuthini?" Ihlathi scoffs. "I thought that you would be excited to leave this damned place!"

My twin's demeanor takes an unfamiliar change. I recall him being a person of logic, rather than one of emotion. Even though we are young, he is wiser. Yet, for this situation, I cannot accept his offer. 

"We only have one left," I say in reference to the invisibility rings. "Father discovered one."

"And so, it seems only one can go," Ihlathi hangs his head low. "Ngiyaxolisa." 

***

The memory fades. I slam a third mug of ale down on the table. The sound goes unnoticed as other conversations clamor louder. There's a bitter taste in my mouth as negativity circles through my mind. 

"Next!" I shout to the host. 

"Aye, but don't you think that you're overdoing it stranger?" The waiter clasps his hands together. 

Irritated, I shoot up from my chair. I approach the man with a finger poke to the shoulder.

"I want another... mug!" My words begin to fall loosely. 

The increase in tension seems to make the other uncomfortable. Yet, he works in a tavern, he should be used to customers demanding more... liquor. 

"I'll take... 'whiskey' instead," I pause to find the right brew. 

My head blares from the excess alcohol. 'How much have I really been drinking?' The question goes unanswered. However, a new issue rises. The barkeep struts over to our conversation. 

"I'm sorry," I say with red cheeks. "But the matter does not pertain to...you."

The barkeep swats my hand away from the server. 

"Actually, I own this joint," he growls. "And I don't have time for delinquency!" 

The waiter darts away like a mouse caught in between two fighting toms. My head spins, but manages to lead a punch straight into the man's chest.

"Oh, you've done it now," the barkeep replies with teeth bared.

A scuffle while intoxicated, is far from pleasant. As fists are thrown, I roll onto the floor to dodge the attacks. Rather than fight back, I sprint around the other tables. Clearly, my evasive maneuvers only make matters worse. 

"Get him out!" The man barks out an order to any interested in providing aid.

A group of burly men approach me. I attempt to skip past them. However, someone from behind trips me. I fall to the floor and see an angry woman glaring back at me.

"Hello dear," I say with a cheeky expression. 

The distraction is enough to give the other men time to uproot me from my position. Two great arms pull me towards the door. 

"Don't you dare come back!" The barkeep shouts as I land on the street. 'Oh, and pay up, else I'll make you.'

'Fine!' my head aches from the liquor.

I can see the host appear from behind with a look of disappointment. 'Whatever,' I think to myself. 'I don't want more of a fuss.' While sitting on the stone, I dig through my pouch. I remover a couple of gold pieces and throw them at the barkeep. Once he starts picking them up, I stagger back on my feet. I can hear him growl at me as I walk away. Where I go does not matter as long as I find a street far removed from The White Swan. 

Time passes and I find myself on the western side of town. My head pulses from the strain of drinking too much. Not to forget that my lower back aches. Tailbone plus cobblestone does not yield a positive result. Regardless, I brought the situation on myself. 'Rather, he made matters worse.' An image of Ihlathi persists in mind. I regret not having the opportunity to return a message. Surely, I would have given him a complaint. 'Why look for me now?'

Suddenly, my eyes blur. I feel the sting of emotion thwart my gaze. Tears fall onto the cold street. Crying is pointless. Yet, I cannot stop. Just as the tears fall, so do I. Sitting crouched on the stone, I find myself in a pitiful state. Should any come across me, then they would have thought me mad. Well, perhaps I am, but with good reason. I wipe my face with a sleeve and look towards the sky. Shimmering stars glisten against a dark blue background. Their light fills my heart with a sense of calm. 'It's dangerous to be angry,' another voice echoes through my mind. I sigh and agree. Being trapped in an emotional state will only bring misery. With that resolve, I lift myself from the ground. Without direction, I decide to follow my feet wherever they lead. The air is sweet and my mind becomes more stable. As I walk down another winding road, a sound catches my attention. Somewhere in a dark alley are bells. The chimes fill me with dread. I stop in my tracks to listen. Ding.... ding... ding...

Their rhythm is steady while their pitch is clear. Despite my muddled senses, I follow the ringing. 'Who would be playing with bells at this hour?' The question will only lead to more uncertainty. After all, how can any trust such a sinister sound? One just does not walk into the lion's den as the old saying goes. I shake my head. 'No, I should not continue.' The thought serves as a warning. Regardless, a voice breaks my inner struggle. 

"Wamukelekile." A soft greeting reaches me standing at the edge of an alleyway. 

In spite of myself, I feel my foot lift and walk forward.