Best Served Cold | TWIN Anthology

📚More in the TWIN Anthology 📚
A Stone's Throw From Death | Sober Minds | The Hunter And The Lurker | The Other Half

The guard smirked, utterly perplexed. "You? A warrior?"

Serje gave him his most dead-pan stare, the one that made Sylla laugh the most. "Are you letting me in, or not?"

The guard's smirk vanished. He stepped aside giving Serje a mean narrow stare. The scholar ignored him as he entered the sprawling city of Minovir.

Serje liked when he got a chance to flex some muscles. Even if they largely remained on his head, either on the face or in the cranium. Sylla once said that he had more muscle power overall since she didn't use hers in her head. Serje got mad for putting herself down like that.

That night was fun.

"Tomatoes! Fresh and juicy!"

"Cartwheels from Minovir's best carpenter!"

"Come one come all, witness the invention of the century!"

The peddlers were always a scourge in this city. Never any book supplies, of course. It was partly the reason why Serje hated them. If not for the fact that they smelled. Or that they always looked him cross-eyed. It wasn't his fault he did the same.

"Tunics for young and old folks alike! Tunic - oh, good day, sir. How can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like the Prince's Favor, please." Serje handed the merchant a parchment. Her eyes widened at the contents. "I was told you could help me?"

Y-Yes, o-of course, sir." The woman turned to a boy sitting on a box nearby. "Jis, see to the stall while mommy takes care of this customer. Sir? Y-yes, if you would f-follow me. Yes, right this way."

The merchant led Serje down a narrow alleyway. It smelled putrid, it looked lived in, it felt dangerous. If it wasn't for the surety that parchment brought, Serje would never enter such a... he didn't even know what to call the abomination.

They stopped before an old broken down wooden door. The merchant turned and bobbed her head. "Sir. I-I cannot enter with you." She handed Serje a coin - a very strange-looking coin. "But this will get you by." She bobbed her head again, then started to run back the way they came from.

Serje sighed and then drank the red potion in his pouch. After a minute, he rubbed the medallion touching his skin under his belt. He sighed again. And again. Then knocked on the door.

The door almost instantly opened a jar, revealing a horrendously misshapen head. "You look lost." It said in an oddly child-like voice.

"I am a patron."

"Then pay up."

Serje handed over the coin, to which the head seemed surprised and annoyed. It slammed the door shut, before opening it wide. The misshapen head was part of a misshapen body. Fat, yet oddly skewed in some places. He, or rather it, stepped to the side. Serje walked in and almost walked back out the very second.

The room inside was filled with inveterate inebriates. Every one. They all stopped their debauchery to stare at the short scholar that entered their den.

Serje went to the barkeep, a young woman, oddly clean and well-put-together. Odd for the contrast she brought to the place, not because she was pretty. Sylla was the prettiest woman in the world, after all.

"Two Slobbers. On the rocks." Serje gave her the same dead-pan expression he gave the guard.

"Two? You sure?" Her accent was so thick Serje could barely understand her. "You look like you could barely handle one, love."

He almost retorted at her casual use of that word but stopped himself. Have to stay in character.

"The other is for your boss." Several of the fools turned their heads at that. "Tell him Serje has arrived."

The girl looks ready to burst into laughter. She poured the drinks, shrugged, and entered a backroom. Serje's curiosity forced him picking up a cup to smell it. It was so disgusting, he almost threw up. He carefully returned the drink back on the counter.

"Who's this now?" A burly, bald... gentleman, came out the door the barkeep entered. His eyes matched her's exactly. His attire was well stitched, if his face didn't have so many tattoos, Serje would think him a nobleman. "My angel said Serje arrived. You him? Parchment-brain?"

Parchment brain, excellent. Kind of like that one Serje cocked his head. "I am he. You look surprised."

The man chuckled. "You are going to pay the blood debt? You? Well, I'll be honest. I've seen stranger things." A huge battle-axe suddenly appeared in his hands. "Let's get to it then."

Serje tapped the medallion three times in quick succession. He felt its heat nearly scorch his skin as the men around him drew their weapons. The nearest took a swing at him with his sword - before getting blocked by Sylla's shield.

"Took you long enough!" Sylla said, grinning.

The nicely dressed thug's eyes went wide. "You! I should have known! Kill her!"

Sylla threw herself at the nearest thug, and blood splattered the boards. She turned blind, merciless revenge in her eyes. The smarter ones stepped back; the dumber ones charged. The smartest targeted Serje. It did not matter. It especially did not matter when Sylla was as enchanted as she was. The room was soon covered in blood.

"Monster..." The head thug whispered. Only a handful of them were left. The thug stood protecting his daughter, grip shifting on his battleaxe. "I am here! Come!"

Sylla's eyes were redder than her skin, and her skin oozed blood from every pore. She jumped, fainting right. The thug went to parry. Bad move. Sylla fainted left, nearly making the big guy stumble. She then spun, kicking the battleaxe with such force that it flew halfway across the bar. Still moving, she kicked the thug in his jaw, forcing him on his knees. The daughter rushed to protect her father, but the blade at his throat halted her approach.

"Not... not in front of the child..." The man said, eyes set.

Sylla screamed and screamed. She punched the man once, thought about it, twice. He fell to the floor knocked out. "What would revenge bring me?" She spat on his unconscious body. "This was so you understand. You. Are. No. Safe." She looked at the perplexed daughter and tossed her a small wooden-carved disk. "Show this to your father once he wakes. Tell him, if he ever abuses another one of my kind again, it's the end for his line." The girl said nothing.

"Say you understand!" Serje's voice was firm, scary even.

The girl squeaked. "Yes! I understand! I will tell him..."

Sylla nodded. Her eyes coming back to normal. She signaled Serje to leave, then picked up the Slobber, miraculously untouched on the counter - sniffed it, swigged it. She looked at the girl. "Damn good Slobber."

"You enjoyed that?" Serje asked as they walked through the dirty alley.

"Love..." Sylla rubbed his shoulders with her bloody palms. "You sounded so manly there at the end..."

"Ha!" Serje felt embarrassed at his tone, disgusted by her bloodied touch and proud of her comment. "You should have seen me with the guard!"

"Oh? What did you do? Pray tell!"

He turned around to look her in the face. "I did this," he said in his dead-pan expression.

Sylla cackled like a banshee. And soon enough Serje joined, he was proud of her for changing her mind.

Revenge was not the way.

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