It was a peaceful afternoon at the café. Sabel was attempting to make a sparkling foam for "Chili Coffee 2.0: Now With Pop," the prince was pretending to polish mugs while really talking to his coffee, and Percival was perched atop the ceiling fan, watching everyone like a feathery lie-detector.
Then, the door slammed open.
Wind whooshed in. The bell above the door rang twice—then snapped off and dropped to the floor.
Everyone turned.
In stumbled a man in armor held together by too much hope and not enough straps. His hair looked like it had recently lost a battle with a lightning bolt, and he had a nervous smile that said, "I didn't mean to break that chandelier… probably."
"Greetings!" the stranger announced. "I am Marick, adventurer of fame and—ACK!"
He slipped on a spilled spoon and flailed, grabbing the first thing in reach, which was unfortunately Sabel's new drink. The chili foam exploded in his face.
The prince winced. "Spicy entrance."
Chaos, Meet Charm
Sabel wiped splatter off his apron. "You owe me three sparkles and a foam whisk."
Marick, eyes watery from chili mist, stood straight. "Apologies. Bad luck follows me like an overly clingy cat."
He reached to shake Sabel's hand—accidentally knocking over a coffee tray, which somehow launched a croissant onto Percival's head.
Percival flapped. "CROISSANT IS NOT A HAT."
Marick groaned. "Again?"
The prince stepped forward, grinning. "Bad luck, huh? Name three things that've gone wrong this week."
Marick held up one shaky finger. "Monday: Got cursed by a frog I tried to rescue."
"Fair."
"Tuesday: My sword turned into a baguette."
"Tasty."
"Wednesday: I fell into a magic puddle and now occasionally hiccup thunder."
He hiccuped. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Sabel blinked. "Okay, I like him."
Coffee of Cleansing... Maybe
"I heard your café can fix anything," Marick said, sitting carefully on a chair that immediately broke under him.
Rosemary handed him a different chair. It caught fire. Gently. No one reacted anymore.
Sabel scratched his head. "What you need isn't coffee. You need a temple, three healers, and maybe a dragon therapist."
"Still," the prince mused, "we could try something..."
He disappeared into the back, returned with a bubbling cup. "I call it Cleanse-au-Luck. It's got mint, honey, and just a drop of reverse-entropy syrup. Also some glitter."
Marick drank it in one heroic gulp.
The café went silent.
The floor didn't collapse. The light bulbs didn't burst.
Marick blinked. "I... feel good. Like, weirdly good."
He stood. Nothing fell. No distant thunder.
He smiled, eyes bright. "Could this be it? My luck is—"
BOOM.
A squirrel fell through the roof. Landed on his head. Stole his bag.
Percival gasped. "I saw no lies. That squirrel meant that."
Adventures Never End
Later, Marick helped sweep the café as thanks. He broke two brooms, opened a cursed drawer, and got stuck in the mop bucket once.
But everyone liked him. His clumsy honesty, constant optimism, and accidental fireworks brought energy to the place.
"Come back any time," the prince said, watching Marick trip over a flowerpot on his way out.
Percival nodded. "Ten gold says lightning hits him before he reaches the corner."
BZZZZZT.
Everyone turned to the window. Marick was glowing slightly.
"Called it," muttered the parrot.
Still, as Marick waved goodbye, singed but smiling, the café felt just a little brighter.
Sabel sighed. "He's going to be a regular, isn't he?"
The prince grinned. "Only if the building survives."