Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

Servius squinted up at the lighthouse. It was… leaning. It hadn’t quite looked this crumbly from his window.

He had only snuck out because he’d owed Duran a life-debt. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten here, a day and a night away, on the other side of the city. He felt a little dazed, as though he’d blinked too long and hadn’t quite caught up yet. Somehow, one mission to see the festival had turned into a quest to free Elysia and Apis? And, perhaps, be the heroes of the city?

This was what happened when he talked to the common folk. He should have listened to his mother.

Duran poked him in the shoulder.

“Are you going to move, or not? The food is great here!”

The pinched-face woman, Prisca, was tying their boat to the little pillar at the dock here. A goat was grazing, next to a singular scrawny chicken.

Servius wasn’t meant to be in places like this. He was the heir to a lord. He was meant to hire people to suffer it for him.

Still, as long as the wind was blowing towards the city, he could almost ignore the stink. Duran was already jumping onto the rock, his sword swinging wildly with the movement. No one was telling Servius that he was important, or that they would miss him. It looked like they might actually leave him behind if he didn’t step towards the lighthouse.

Servius looked across the harbor, towards where his parents lived. Would they be missing him yet?

Surely not. It was Flight’s Feast. They had…. meetings, of some sort, surely.

He stepped off the boat and onto the rock. Duran grabbed his arm again, dragging him into the lighthouse before he could gather himself. “You’ve got to see the inside,” Duran said. “Amatus used to be a pirate! He’s got so many swords! And knives! And cool stuff!”

Servius stumbled as he followed Duran through the door. Inside, it stank of a strange rot. It smelled a little like the ocean gone wrong. A man stood at a stove, thumping the chimney with the end of a broom.

“Cursed thing! Hope all those birds go to the-” He paused, then peered over his shoulder. He was very old, and very shriveled, but not evenly. It was like he’d only gotten sun on part of his face. “If you’re here asking about-”

“It’s just me,” said Prisca. “I do hope you’re going to show that chimney mercy.”

Duran was pulling Servius over to the back of the room. He lowered his voice. “Look at this axe,” he said. “A real battle-axe! Do you suppose it’s seen real battle?”

Servius put a hand over the blade. Too-late, he pulled back his finger. It beaded with blood. He stared at the rest of the rack, in awe. That was an awful amount of weapons. “Wow,” he said, reverent.

There were some good things about quests. Even if they were hot, and humid, and you had to sleep near the docks sometimes, tucked in next to trash. He’d had to look at fish bones last night.

“I know,” said Duran. “Here, hold this dagger.”

“Could send a man a notice! Can’t have this place ready for visitors all the time!” He squinted. “Although those pamphlets are real good for-” The man behind them was grumbling loud enough to interrupt even Servius’s reverie.

“If you keep using my pamphlets to start fires, I’ll start a fire in your beard! Those are proclamations by Carmen, the Voice of the-”

“I already told you, she’s no small god of mine, and you can tell her I said that personally. Never was one much for the oprey. You got something else to say?” There was a shuffling and thumping behind them. Servius hefted the dagger in his hand once, twice. It shone along the blade, ripples showing in the metal. It was very fine work. “Oh, you. BOY! You brought Apis again?”

Duran shook his head and turned away from the dagger. “Sir,” he said, voice unexpectedly earnest, “It’s awful. Apis is wanted. For arson!”

“They burned down another temple? This place is falling apart! Misery of a city! Should go back to sea, see how that fares!”

Servius tried to put back the dagger, as gently as he could manage. He fumbled it and it fell with a great clatter. As he picked it up with a wince, he realized the hilt had been dented. That would come out, wouldn’t it?

“No, not another temple! The temple of Andrena!”

“ANDRENA?”

Servius jumped and dropped the dagger again.

“This is what happens when you don’t let me speak to you,” said Prisca. “Put that dagger down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Servius didn’t want to listen to her, but he’d been caught, so he left it on the floor and turned to face the main part of the room. The man- Amatus, he thought- was sitting tucked into the booth seating underneath the main window. Prisca was still leaned against the doorway, and Duran was next to him, half-leaned towards the rack of weapons.

“It could go bad any moment,” he said, earnestly. “They think he did it, somehow. They even took his bees, everything. They locked them up!”

“Imprisoning bees! That’s what happens when you obey the government. They’ll take your bees.”Servius lost track of the rest of the complaints within Amatus’s mumbling and his beard. His accent was very thick, very northern. “..Damn shame,” he said, eventually. “Good kid! Good kid!”

“So, you’ll keep track of these two,” said Prisca, unfolding her arms and turning towards the doorway. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I need to go deal with the guard.”

“Deal with the guard? Don’t you need someone armed?”

“Hardly! I’ve got connections.”

Servius frowned at her. Last time they’d been in the guard, they’d seemed to hate her. They’d even ducked, like she usually fought them. “What kind of-”

“Useful boys stay silent,” she snapped. “I’ll be back tomorrow. If necessary, I’ll free Apis. For now, I need to find… Elysia, was it?” Servius was losing confidence by the moment. “Excellent,” said Prisca, when no one argued with her. Duran was squeezing his lips shut, hand clenched. Amatus was staring at the chimney again. “Good day.”

As soon as she was out of sight, Duran turned to Amatus. “You’re good at fighting, aren’t you?”

Amatus scratched at his chin. “Suppose I am,” he said. “Was, once. Best way to fight is to not start one in the first place, though.”

“I have an idea,” said Duran. “Do you think you might help us?”

The wall of weapons behind them loomed. Servius closed his eyes. Please. Please, say no, Amatus. End this quest.

“Sure,” said Amatus. “Fire away.”