Sara walked into the Alexbrook Tavern, mind clouded by endorphins. It was intense, but she had fought shit-faced, riddled with wounds through vital organs (the six below the lungs that screenwriters presented as disposable bullet fodder in movies), so she was more than capable of handling an endorphin cocktail that could tranquilize a grizzly bear.

God, she needed to fix herself this cycle.

Inside, businessmen chatted over glasses of Colored Tres, a naturally sweet distilled brandy made from leeka fruit that grew in the southern region of the Escaran Kingdom. When Sara walked in with her pretty face, she caught some interested glares, but these people had better things to do than flirt. If she stayed long enough, two people would offer her drinks, and one would offer her cold, hard cash. She’d refuse them both, but it’d end with a stern threat of violence, and the cowards would go back to discussing logging operations in the north or… whatever the fuck these people talked about.

Whatever they discussed, it wasn’t what people at Kyritus’s tavern talked about. His tavern, Hestiafern Tavern, was a place for adventurers to drink and fight. The place she was standing in was an upscaled tavern run by his disgusting competitor.

Perhaps being in Alexbrook Tavern instead of Kyritus’s Tavern summed up all of Sara’s thoughts about the past, present, and future more than any description could. From the past, she remembered Jason’s forces burning Hestiafern to the ground before chasing him, Tiber, and Sara through multiple kingdoms. She also wouldn’t forget that King Escar had gradually understood the gravity of his hubris by kidnapping people from another world, hoping they’d be nuclear weapons that would treat him like serfs, descending into paranoia before he snapped and locked Jason behind bars. Lastly, she remembered that a classmate—she was quite certain—had brought her back in time and, as such, had known about Kyritus, as their relationship was the traitorous equivalent of Bonnie and Clyde.

In the present, Sara was becoming powerful far faster than Jason, so her confrontation with King Escar would come far sooner in the future, and her classmate’s intentions could change.

These were serious problems because in the past, Tiber was deathly sick, during the present, she was deathly sick, and in the future, she would die, and given that Sara might not live in the future, she needed contingency plans to save Tiber. Her solution was to make contact and give her a partial antidote for tyrexis—that way, if Sara were to die, at least Tiber would live on.

That was Sara’s priority because she was Tiber’s sister—

—and that’s what sisters do.

There was just one major problem with doing this: making contact without anyone knowing she was making contact.

To do that, she needed three things: an excuse for going to Helscope, an alibi for where she was when she met Kyritus, and a believable excuse for why she wasn’t at her so-called alibi.

Anyone who was put on the spot to pull off such a [heist] would find no such luck because perfect plans didn’t exist. However, Sara had two things that would make it possible—

(Magic and poison)

—and she ingested the latter before she walked into Alexbrook Tavern.

Sara walked to the counter where a man with long brown hair in a ponytail was polishing glasses. “Hello, Ubis.”

Ubis furrowed his brow. “Do I know you, young lady?”

“You don’t, but I know you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How?”

“I’m a part of the royal circle,” Sara replied, taking sharp breaths. Suddenly, she coughed and let her eyelids droop.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Ubis panicked, hearing she was part of the royal circle and then seeing her current state. His face was saying, Please die somewhere else! but he rushed to her.

“I’m fine Just feeling a bit sick. Like I was saying, I’m here on orders from high up. We have a problem.”

“A problem?” he asked, his hands fidgeting.

“Calm down. You’re not in trouble. We need you.”

“For what?”

“We know about your auction.”

Ubis’s face paled, and his hands gripped the bar. “Listen, I—“

Sara coughed, swaying slightly. “Shut up, dramth, and listen. We know. We don’t care. On the contrary, we let it operate because we need certain things from time to time. This is one of those times.”

He swallowed.

“There’s been a breakout of tyrexis. High up. We don’t want to show weakness. Do you understand?”

He nodded, trembling. People like Ubis thrived on information, but there was some information they didn’t want to know. Information that was bad for their health. “Yes.”

“Good. Now listen. I have a silverbloom. Fresh. We need you to sell it. The highest buyer? That’s our man. You can keep the money. We just need you to make up a backstory about where you got the flower and sell it. Do you understand?”

Greed spread across his face, expressed through heavy breaths, shifting body posture, and clenching hands. Silvermoon bloom went for 1,000 griffins. More if it was fresh. Keeping that kind of money was a serious haul. “Yes. Can I see it?”

She nodded and walked to the other side of the bar, convulsing slightly.

“My lady, are you sure you’re alright?” Ubis asked, reaching for her.

Sara swatted his hand away. “If you want to help me, hurry up.” She reached into her cloak, subtly showcasing her royal insignia as she pulled out the container. When she unwrapped it and showed him, his eyes widened in shock.

“W-When was this harvested?”

“Last night,” Sara said, handing it to him. “That’s why you should—“ She started convulsing, threatening to wretch.

“This way, My Lady!” He grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom, where she started gagging into a toilet.

“Leave!” Sara demanded. “And don’t come back until I come out. Get back and pretend like you didn’t see me. Do you understand? I’m fine. Now go!”

Ubis heard her voice and panicked. “I’m taking this to my—“

“I don’t care what you do. Go!”

He ran away, leaving her in the bathroom dry-heaving. Once he was gone, she sent out a divination spell and watched the blinding mana signature from the silvermoon bloom his hands move through the tavern like a beacon. It was so bright that even mid-level divination spells couldn’t see anything but mana in a ten-foot diameter unless someone was really powerful—and she was not. Even Edico couldn’t tell where she was so long as she was within that area. That’s what she was counting on.

Closing her eyes, she started chanting in her thoughts. I zória arkhízoun na milán, dídoun epístoles apo éna xaméno kráto. Graspa, mes' ti symfonia, akoloutheí ta ichnē tis epistímis. As she chanted, her body disappeared, and her mana signature spread out, making her look like a strange cloud that stood out when she was alone but blended in crowds. When she did, her mana channels burned, and she felt icy chills crawling through her spine. If I keep this up, I’ll need that flower… Sara thought sardonically. Assuming I'll make it back.

While Sara had successfully obtained witnesses watching her walk into Alexbrook Tavern and obtained a great fucking excuse why she handed a bartender a plant worth a couple thousand griffins and then didn’t say another word to him, the hard part was making it stick. Tista weed was as common knowledge as poison ivy was on Earth, so Edico could take one look at her and realize that she was faking it and ate the poison herself. The only believable way to do it was to be strikingly sick when Edico saw her next, reinforcing that Sara was in that bathroom and leaving was out of the question. If she was serious about creating a concrete alibi without an investigation, she needed to do it right.

That said, it gave her twenty minutes before she got sick and thirty before she became delirious so time was ticking. And to be honest—

—she already regretted it. But it was too late to back out now, so she snuck out the door under the cloak of invisibility, exited a backdoor, and casually strolled into the crowd, chuckling when she was Edico posted outside the tavern. His body was trembling in frustration that he couldn’t read where Sara was. Sorry, Edico. I’ll apologize later for being such a bitch, she thought. And she meant it, but for now, she had better things to do.

Under the cloak of invisibility, Sara walked to the beggar she had seen earlier and stood before him, silent and unmoving, slightly warping the air. His body trembled. “W-Who’s there?”

“I am Delina. Tell me, Beggar. Do you still not believe?” Sara didn’t know if he believed in her or not. But the best way to pretend to be a god is to deliver wrath to those who lack faith. Absolute faith. And this man would learn the wrath of Delina.

Kryritus stopped reading a book aloud when Tiber started wheezing, causing tears to trickle down his cheeks. He carefully closed the book to hide it. It was the only one they had, and books were expensive. Everything was so fucking expensive. And even though he’d trade the tavern and everything he had for Tiber, it wasn’t enough. It was making him sick. As he sat there, Tiber was deteriorating. He didn’t know how long it’d take the sickness to kill her. Probably a few years if she was untreated. Many lived for a decade with medicine, but those people were rich enough for regular treatment or curing. Regardless, she’d soon reach a point where the effects were permanent. It’d start slow, but it’d get worse month after month, over and over again, breaking her down….

Suddenly, there was a serious commotion breaking out downstairs, and Kyritus’s eyes shot open, feeling the need to go. It was just hollering now, but there’d be a fight soon—or something worse. That feeling… it multiplied in his skin, taking over his mind with primal fear and—He shot up by reflex, but Tiber cried. “Don’t go!”

It must’ve woken her up! Kyritus thought, turning to his sister, who was trembling. She probably felt it too, whatever It was. That, or she could feel it through him. They could talk without speaking. Most nights, when the sound of rowdy adventurers got too much or things got dangerous, they had to.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Tiber….”

“I’m scared!” She gripped his arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please….”

Kyritus swallowed hard and sat down, praying, praying it could wait until she went back to sleep. An hour wasn’t enough in her state. It was getting hard, but he’d placed faith, faith in his people. Unfortunately, those people were the people roaring down below. This was bad. So bad…. Please….

Sara’s mind was hazy when she finished giving orders to the beggar and Hestiafern Tavern. Walking in felt like a dream, considering Hestiafern had burnt to the ground half a decade ago. Moreover, this was the place Sara wanted to spend the rest of her life. It was a magical moment—and things quickly got out of hand.

It had started out routine enough. A good-looking girl holding a silver spoon walked into an adventurers' bar—it was a joke. Some started whistling and calling out, others said she might be rich and they shouldn’t act up, and most everyone warned her she was in the wrong place. But she replied, Get me a twalla and leave me alone. I’m having a shit day. Hearing her ask for a heinous adventurer brew sent people into a frenzy, and for a moment, everything seemed like it would work out.

The real trouble happened five minutes before when she had got to the bar, got her twalla, and asked, Where’s Kyritus? I need to speak with him, to Jant, and he said, He’s out.

Sara looked the rugged bartender in the eye. No, he’s not. He’s with his sister. Where is he?

That’s when all hell broke loose.

What do you want with him?

I’m a friend.

Bullshit.

Look. I've got fifteen minutes to speak to Kyritus before hell breaks loose, and I’m in a real bad mood. Call me a liar or question my intentions again, and I’ll kick your teeth in.

Sara wasn't an idiot. She was intelligent and rational most of the time, and even then, she understood that she needed to keep a low profile. That's why she walked through town under the cloak of invisibility to [teleport] to Hestiafern, put her blonde hair in a ponytail, and hid it behind a sweltering cloak hook. The hood couldn't hide her blue eyes, but she wasn't showing off either. She didn't want to let people know a strange blonde was in town, even if they were at two places at the same time—an impossibility. But the thing about having an anger problem was that it was a problem, and she didn't control it. Worse, she had spent the better part of a decade with the ability to release crushing mana pressure from her mana core—something that instantly shut people up without a fight—but she hadn't established it yet. As a result, she was pressed for time, was making a scene, and had picked a fight.

Still—none of those things changed the fact that she still had to see Kyritus, and the world was fucking her at the most critical moment. So she had pressed on.

You need to leave, Jant said.

I’m not leaving until I talk to Kyritus.

Forget this chit-chat, a brunette adventurer said, putting her hand on a dagger. Let’s just throw ’er out.

Stay out of this, unvet, Jant said. We’ll handle it.

Then do it already.

Sara was already pissed that her anger problem landed her in a skirmish, so seeing the woman resorting to daggers made Sara livid. It was ironic, but that's just how it was. Look, I don’t know who the fuck any of you are, she said, but I’ll tell you one thing. Pull those toys out, and Kyritus will be wiping your blood off that table for a week. She needed to work on her temper.

Oh, yeah? the brunette asked, unsheathing her dagger. Let’s see it! She thrust forward, kicking off the commotion that destroyed her prized reunion.

Sara dodged and punched the woman in the jaw, releasing a sickening crack. Then she used the momentum to grab her twalla mug and threw it into another attacker’s face, making it shatter on contact. Which break was worse was debatable.

The chaos made a group of adventurers grab their swords, but Sara acted first. Krymméni droméni ákoungan, me skíes! Sara chanted aloud, waving her hand. A massive gust of wind ripped through the hall and slammed into a group of fighters, sending them crashing into tables sending booze and glass raining everywhere.

It all happened in three seconds.

Jant was stunned, trembling in disbelief. And just as he fumbled for a dagger, Sara unsheathed hers and touched it to his throat.

“I’ll repeat myself because you didn’t get it the first time,” Sara said in the present. “I’m here to speak to Kyritus on urgent business. I don’t have much time, and I’m in a very bad mood. I went through a hell of a lot of trouble to get here, and if you fuck with me, I won’t hesitate to kill everyone here to speed up the process.”

Jant gulped. “They’re good kids—“

“I’m not here to harm them, you fucking idiot. Now point!” Time was ticking. Any moment now, her mana could give out, she could start going through tista plant withdrawal, Ubis could come to check on her, or Edico could burst through the door of Alexbrook Tavern and start doing what she was doing. Sara was late the moment she talked to Ubis. She didn’t have time for diplomacy.

Jant swallowed. He pointed.

Kyritus gripped Tiber tight, trying to ease her crying.

“Brother! I’m scared.”

“It’ll be okay,” he said, not believing his own words. Since his father opened Hestiafern when he was five, Kyritus had seen his fair share of deaths. He had seen brawls, mobs, and duels. And he had seen the tavern turn silent when royal guards walked into it. But he had yet to experience a situation where a fight silenced the adventurers. That meant that whoever was there was a ranked—and a high one. “I need to go—“

“No!” Tiber gripped his arm.

“They’re looking for me. If I show up, I can do something about it. If I don’t, it’ll put you in danger.” That was a fact, but five-year-olds didn’t listen to facts.

“Please…” she sobbed.

Kyritus felt like someone was hanging him with his own intestines. He was scared, too. He didn’t want to go. He just wished that whoever it was would just go away and—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

His heart thrummed in his chest, taking away his breath. He listened in horror, trying to find the words to answer the person on the other side of the door.

“Kyritus?” a soft, conflicted voice called out. It wasn’t from a burly adventurer or a guard. It was the voice… of a girl. Somewhere around his age. She sounded… sick. Or about to be. As someone who had spent most of his life cleaning puke from a bathroom, he knew that sound. “Yes?” he asked.

“I have… fuck me. Three minutes? Two? I need to speak with you. Please open the door.”

Kyritus looked at Tiber and found her… calm. The little leeta was damn near an empath. When she hid from someone who walked in, the adventurers kicked them out. Those people were usually jailed, hanged, or ran out of town within a year. The opposite was true of other people. If someone was good, she opened up immediately. It was strange how calm she was.

“Okay….” Kyritus swallowed and opened the door.

What he found on the other side… wasn’t what he was expecting. It was a young blonde around his age, and even through her hood, he could tell she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Perfect even. And the way she was blushing and cringing, biting her lip and gripping her fists as if she was embarrassed and angry at herself… was cute. That shouldn’t be the reaction he was having toward the woman who just wrecked his tavern and silenced a house of adventurers! “Ummm…. Can I help you?”

She developed a wry smile. “Ummm, yeah? I mean, yes. God. This isn’t how I was expecting this meeting to go. You know? I had a thousand scenarios in my head, and wrecking your bar and…. God damn it. I don’t have much time, and I’m not very good with words, so I’ll just say it.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Marry me.”

Fuck. That was the first thought that Sara had after making her request, and it’s the only thought that elegantly captured 100% of the situation. Having her first statement to Kyritus ending with a blunt marriage proposal was a humiliation born in the First Terrace of Purgatory, where people go to atone for pride. It was sickening. Somehow, given another chance to make a better impression, she found an introduction far worse than puking on his shoes. Yeah, “fuck” summed it up.

Still, she couldn’t help it. When she saw him, she just kinda lost it. He was younger and clean-shaven instead of sporting his sandy-colored beard, but it was still him. And, after eight months of absolute hell, fighting a demon army, killing Agronus, and getting everything stripped from her, she just wanted him to hold her again. But that’s not how it worked. Now, her cheeks were burning, and she was regretting it.

“Are… you okay?” Kyritus asked. “Please, come sit down….”

“I… can’t,” Sara said. “As I said, I have three minutes. No, I wasted one, and I need the other two. So listen to me, Kye. You don’t know who I am, and that makes me really, really bitter. But I know you, and more importantly, I know your sister. And I….”

A violent wave of nausea hit her, ordering her to puke up everything in her stomach. Natural response, given that she purposely ate one of the most notorious poisons on the entire fucking planet. But she refused her body’s defense mechanisms, swallowing down the acid to save herself from embarrassment, even though that should be the least of her worries. Any moment now, she would break out in hives and start convulsing—that was the point. Visible poisoning. Impossible to move. Locked in a bathroom. Only she wasn't locked in a bathroom. She was in another location talking to....

“Seriously, you don’t look good,” Kyritus said. “You can’t—“

“I just said…. Fuck. Here.” Sara pulled a package covered in a silver bag, unprofessionally tattooed with arrays. When she opened it up, Kyritus’s body swayed, jaw slack, gasping for breath as he accepted it. In his hands was a beautiful jar filled with a hypnotic glowing plant sporting white leaves with blue tips. “This is—“

“Silver….” Sara coughed. “…moon bloom. Yes.” Originally, she planned to clip part of the first plant off because it didn’t take much to cure tyrexis, but she found two. When Edico left last night, she woke up, thankfully, and forced herself through the woods outside Edico’s sphere of perception and clipped it before returning. It drained her, but she pulled it off. “It’s legitimate. I picked it last night. I’m going to have….” Sara’s body convulsed, and she gripped her stomach.

“Hey! Let me help you!” Kyritus said. He tried to reach out, but he panicked, realizing that he was holding the flower.

Sara folded over, thrusting out her hand while taking deep breaths. “For the love of fucking God, please listen.”

He stopped moving, hearing the seriousness in her voice.

"I'm going to have someone... come to make silverena for her." Suddenly, Sara's body broke into cold sweats. "But if Tiber… gets really sick…. she can eat a petal… and that'll partially cure her for a long time. But.... once you open the jar, the plant will die. So don't... do it unless... she really needs it or... I don't speak to you for over a year. And for the love of Emanasa, don't take it out of that bag. Otherwise... it'll shine like a fucking star... under a divination spell."

Kyritus’s eyes trembled. “I don’t understand. I couldn’t possibly—“

“This isn’t about you,” Sara snapped. “That’s for Tiber.” Her eyes glided into the room, and her heart skipped a beat. Tiber was staring at her with wide eyes, sitting up on her own. Even pale and sickly, Tiber looked better than she did on a good day when Sara met her. Four years in the future, she only spent two hours outside her bed a day—four after Sara cured her. But in this life… Sara could cure her almost completely. There was hope, and that made her well with emotions as she looked at Kyritus again. “She doesn’t know me, but… I love her… too. So don’t question… my motives here. That would make me… sad.” At that moment, the depth of her loss felt boundless, and she felt like she’d never be able to fill it again.

Kyritus gripped the silvermoon bloom to his chest, deep emotions cutting lines in his face. Just the look made Sara wince. It was time to go. “Wait for the apothecary,” she said. “It’ll take… a while. Probably a year.” With those instructions, she flicked Kyritus a golden griffin, and when he picked it up, both hands full, she rushed down the stairs as fast as her sick body could carry her, stumbling past the silent, watching adventurers as she reached the door.

Kyritus was faster than expected. Somehow, he found a safe place to put the plant (God knows he’d protect it with his life) and rushed down the stairs, yelling, “Where’d she go?” right as she was shutting the door.

“She left,” Jant replied. “That’s where. Hey, wait! Don’t go after her. Are you crazy, boy?”

“Get out of my way! I need to see her!”

Sara froze. Part of her wanted to stay, praying for a fairytale ending where he came out, making declarations and saying something cringe-worthy like, I don’t love you yet, but I will try my best! The other part was afraid he’d come out and accept her marriage proposal, not because he loved her, but out of obligation. “I owe my life to you” mentality. Just the thought of that…. Sara started pushing through the crowd, trying to fight past the spins. Withdrawal was kicking in, and it felt like ants were crawling up her arms. This wasn’t the time to think about love.

Sara rushed into the crowd, shielding herself behind a couple just as Kye shot out of the tavern. “Wait!” he yelled. “Please wait!”

Suddenly, there was a pause, slow and pervasive, passing through the lives of the bustling citizens. They all stopped walking in unison, first checking if he was talking to them and then waiting for what he’d say. Sara swallowed, her heart pounding, keeping hidden behind the crowd.

“Come back for a meal!” Kye yelled. His voice was younger, but it was still the same. So similar yet distant, there yet unobtainable. He was saying exactly what she thought he would say, but not to her. The Kyritus from her last life would’ve never asked her to come back for a meal. She just did. It was an expectation. An unspoken truth.

“I… want to meet you!” Kye yelled, freezing all her emotions on the spot. “I may not know who you are, but… I want to. A lot….”

Sara felt a hot tear streak down her cheek like a meteorite, hitting her chin and curving down her neck to her collarbone. Suddenly, the next three days of hell felt worth it. “Okay…” she whispered.

Then she disappeared into the crowd, rushing toward Alexbrook Tavern, praying that she didn’t break down halfway and start convulsing in the streets.