The Black Bottle

"Tournament?" Cesa blurted out, her eyes wide as she stared at the massive billboard plastered on the hallway wall.

It announced an upcoming tournament between the students, scheduled to take place in less than three months.

'There is no way! I need more time'

"Bout time," a voice snickered beside her at the same time, making her turn her attention to the boy standing next to her. He looked strong, with a confident swagger that screamed cockiness. His hair was a messy mop of dark curls.

Noticing Cesa's curious gaze, the boy extended his hand, introducing himself. "I'm Candle," he said with a smirk.

Cesa hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand, feeling a rush of surprise wash over her. 'No way,' she thought. 'He's one of the top ten strongest sorcerers in the academy, almost a grade S. But what's he doing in Housing 7?'

As they shook hands, an awkward silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the sound of their breaths. Then, Candle burst into laughter. "HAHAHAH! There's no mistakin it, you must be Cesa!"

Cesa blinked, taken aback. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

Candle interrupted her, a smirk on his face. "C'mon, almost everyone knows you, especially with the reputation of being the weakest in the academy."

"I thought there's no way anyone can be that weak, right? But you've done confirmed it with that handshake." And he broke down laughing.

Cesa didn't respond. Instead, she just stood there.

He then asked, "Anyway, just wanted to ask you, what was a person like you even doing at the Hollowed Ruins? You hidin somn? Because I don't buy this weak act."

Just then, a person interrupted by putting her arm around Cesa. Her wavy green hair came into view over Cesa's shoulder.

"Oh hey, Candle. Didn't know you got moved to Housing 7. Looks like you finally fell off."

Candle raised an eyebrow, recognizing the woman next to Cesa.

"What about you, London? What are you doing here? Did the academy finally catch you hoeing around?"

London's smirk widened. "Nah, not yet. Just visiting my friend." She gripped Cesa closer, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"Friend?"

"Yes. Friend. Because unlike you, she doesn't have the personality of your body pillow"

Candle puts his hand up to defend himself.

"I'll have you know that body pillow has a ton of personality. In fact, billions of dead babies-"

"Okayy, that's enough of hearing you talk for a day." London grabbed Cesa's arm and bolted off.

As they walked, Candle's eyes suddenly locked onto the tiny claw mark on the back of Cesa's neck, his gaze turning intrigued. 'That girl is definitely hiding somethin'

"You know, for a guy who's the son of a legendary sorcerer, he's got no class," London said to Cesa as they were powerwalking through the hallway.

Cesa replied, "Oh, yeah. His dad's a wild card, right?"

"Yep, Unfortunately"

They walked in silence for a moment before London checked the time. A grin spread across her face as she turned to Cesa.

"Hey, how about we go somewhere a little more fun?"

The old bartender leaned in. "I tell ya, it was a sight like no other," he began, his voice gravelly and animated, with a distinct western twang.

"We was walkin' through the forest, mindin' our own business, when there it was. A devil standin' about 30 feet tall! I ain't never seen nothin' like it, and I reckon I never will again. My heart was poundin' in my chest, and my knees, well, they felt like they'd give out any second. My buddy and I, we just stared at that big red thing, our mouths hangin' open."

He paused, swallowing hard. "Then it saw us, and it opened its mouth wide. And I swear on my mama's grave, the flames that shot outta there, they was like nothin' anyone had ever seen before. With one breath, half the forest was gone, just like that!"

"Now, I was lucky enough to dodge them flames, but Swiggy, my friend... he wasn't so fortunate. His body lay there, split clean in two! It was a sight I ain't never gonna forget."

"But then, just as that devil was readyin' to strike again, its head just up and exploded! I couldn't believe my eyes. And there, standin' right next to that dead devil, was a woman. She looked around, her face all screwed up like she was disappointed or somethin'."

He took a deep breath, as if reliving the moment. "Then she snapped her fingers, and I swear to God, the whole area started to change. The ground shook, the sky turned gray, and them clouds, they was movin' so fast, it was like time was speedin' up or somethin'."

"And the forest, well, it just started comin' back to life! I then realized time wasn't speedin' up, it was rewindin'. After I watched the entire forest rebuild itself, I heard it. My friend's voice, callin' my name. Swiggy was alive and kickin', like nothin' had ever happened. In fact, he had no recollection of anything that happened."

One of the men who was listening to the story chuckled, "Lemme guess, that's the story you used on your wife when she caught ya messin' around, eh?"

The men surrounding the bartender burst into laughter. One with blond hair chimed in, still chuckling, "Shit, I might needa use this one on mine!"

"Now, I know it sounds plum crazy, but I'm tellin' ya, this really happened. I don't know who that woman was or what kind of magic she had, but I'll never forget that day. It was the craziest dang thing I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot, let me tell ya!"

"You're getting old man. This is the age where ya eyes start trickin you" the man said sipping the last drop of whiskey into his mouth.

The man slid his empty glass towards the bartender. "While you're at it, pour me another drink, Grosf," he said, pointing at the shelf. "Lemme try that one."

Grosf a disappointed sigh and walked over to the shelf behind him. He pointed to a uniquely shaped green bottle labeled 'Garzon' that was half full. "This one?" he asked for clarification.

"Nah, the one all the way in the back of the shelf," the man responded.

After a few seconds of looking around, Grosf finally spotted it, a bit surprised as he had never noticed this particular bottle sitting there before. He pulled it out and found it to be a full, old black bottle, dusty from years of neglect. The neck of the bottle was long and slender, topped with an equally unremarkable black stopper that seemed to merge seamlessly with the rest of the bottle. The bottle had no label on it, and unlike all the other flashy bottles that grabbed attention, this one was just blank and seemed to blend into the shelf, almost unnoticeable.

"You sure you want this?"

"I don't even remember stocking this bottle."

The man put a twenty dollar bill on the table, "I'm sure."

The blond man next to him chimed in, "Twenty dollars for that? There's not even a brand label on it, no wonder it's unused, it looks like it's got nothin' goin' for it."

Grosf grabbed a white cloth and started to clean the bottle, removing the dust.

"Haha, I know, that's why I want it. I'mma use it as a palate cleanser for the green one."

"You got a point. Even water probably has more flavor than that one."

Grosf carefully poured the mysterious liquid from the bottle into the man's glass, the dark fluid shimmering slightly under the dim lighting of the bar. He then pulled the bottle back, examining it closely. The glass seemed to absorb the light, making it appear even more enigmatic. As Grosf tilted the bottle slightly, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in its obsidian surface.

"Ya know, over the years, this face may have gotten wrinkles, bags, hell, even slightly changed its color, but what hasn't changed on this aging man are his eyes. The eyes which had once shot bullseyes with ease. They eyes that had made his wife fall in love with him. The eyes that had been passed down to his children. These eyes had carried him this far in life, the least he could do is trust 'em."

"Old man, you're speakin' in third person again," the man chuckled while holding his glass up to his mouth, "Now go get the Garzon ready for me." He chugged the glass down in an instant.

"How was it?" the blond-haired man asked.

"Meh," he said, along with a displeased hand gesture.

"Welp, twenty bucks down the drain."

Suddenly, the man started to feel a slight burn in his throat. He grabbed his collar, gently caressing his neck. "Well, actually, I'm startin' to feel it a bit." The burning started to rapidly rise up.

"Let me get one too, old man," the blond-haired man said. The bartender poured the mysterious liquid into his glass.

The burning spread like raging flames, and the man's whole body started to feel like it was on fire. 'Usually, alcohol has a slight burning feeling to it, but this one, its too much' he thought.

The blond man put the glass up to his mouth, ready to take a sip.

"Wait!" the man yelled, collapsing off his chair to the ground. He started to violently cough, gasping for air. "Don't drink that!"

Grosf rushed around the counter, attending to the man on the ground. "You okay?" he asked with concern, while supporting the man up.

'What the hell is happening?' the man thought, as his head started to rapidly spin, barely able to discern his surroundings.

The blond-haired man set his glass down immediately. His gaze darted to the black bottle. The smooth and innocent-looking bottle seemed like a shadow hiding in plain sight, but behind that glass, the strength of the alcohol was far beyond what he could comprehend.

The man heaved and threw up on the floor, unable to keep the alcohol in his body any longer.

The door swung open, revealing London and her vibrant green hair. Right behind her, Cesa trailed, her presence almost invisible in comparison to London's.

"Why are we here?" Cesa asked.

"To have fun," London explained.

"You know I'm underage. How am I even going to drink?"

"Relax, I got you. Besides, you need one after that whole devil incident you've been through."

Just then, both of them noticed the man who was violently puking all over the floor.

The bartender noticed them as they walked up to the booth. "Sorry, the bar is closed for today," he said to them.

"Oh, what happened to him?" Cesa asked.

"He had a drink that was a bit too strong for him," Grosf said. "I need to make sure this guy is alright, so I'm closing the bar early for today."

"Okay, no worries!" London slid in. "We'll be on our way." She signaled Cesa and walked out the door with her.

The man didn't seem to be getting any better; his body was burning more and more, his head started spinning faster, and he wouldn't stop puking all over the floor.

Grosf looked back at the men watching the scene. "One of you call an ambulance!"

The blond-haired guy immediately pulled out his phone.

Grosf grabbed a rag and started to clean up the unending mess. "What in tarnation was in that thing?" he mumbled to himself.

"They're on their way," the blond-haired man said after getting off the phone. He then glanced over to the booth again, but this time he didn't see the bottle anymore; it had disappeared.

'Where did it go? It was just there a moment ago?'

Cesa and London walked through the dimly lit street, discussing their next move. "I think we should just head home," Cesa suggested, her voice hesitant.

"Yah, we should," London grinned as she reached into her bag and pulled out a black bottle.

"Where did you get that?" Cesa asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Where do you think?"

"I swiped the bottle closest to me while they weren't looking."

Cesa rolled her eyes. "Of course you did"

"Look, at least we aren't going home empty-handed"

Upon arriving at Cesa's room, London wasted no time in pouring drinks for both of them. She handed a cup to Cesa, "Go on, try it," she urged.

Cesa hesitated, staring at the peculiar liquid in her cup. She felt a strange energy emanating from the drink, making her apprehensive.

"Let's both do it at the same time," London suggested, sensing her friend's unease. She began counting down: "Three, two, one!"

~ Nine hours later

The sun had risen majestically above the horizon, casting its golden glow upon the awakening city. Streets had gradually come back to life, bustling with activity as the day began. The bell had rung, signaling the start of another school day, and students flooded the school grounds, eager to learn and socialize.

Meanwhile, a knock came on a door in a quiet room. "Cesa Elrod?" a voice called out, its tone firm and authoritative. The knocking persisted, growing louder and more insistent.

No answer.

"Cesa!" the voice repeated.

Cesa's eyes had slowly drifted open, her vision blurry and unfocused. She blinked, trying to clear her sight, and began to make out the details of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the broken glass scattered across the floor, glittering dangerously in the morning light. Then, she saw her torn shirt lying atop the mess, and her heart had begun to race.

As her eyes adjusted further, she spotted London sprawled unconscious on the other side of the bed. Panic crept in as Cesa struggled to remember what had happened the night before. She could feel a dull throb in her head, making it difficult to focus.

"Ms. Elrod!" the voice called out once more, snapping Cesa back to reality.

She had struggled to her feet, her body aching and her mind foggy. Through the door, she could hear the man's voice clearly. "We are from the police department and have a few questions for you," he announced.

"The... the police?" Cesa muttered fearfully, her gaze sweeping across the disheveled scene in her room.