"You win again, Master," Zepar muttered. He was always bitter after their morning chess game. Zepar hated losing. He stood and put the chess set away and refilled his and Edarin's cups before returning to his seat.
"I admit, I'm a tad disappointed," Edarin complained softly.
"What do you mean, Master?" Zepar inquired. He was sure that Edarin was simply put off by the fact that Zepar still couldn't give him a challenge in chess.
"I cheated, and you didn't notice," Edarin commented haughtily. "That's no good. If you aren't aware of what your opponent is doing right in front of you, you will be little better than cannon fodder."
"Master, why would you cheat in the first place? Isn't it beneath you?" Zepar asked icily. Edarin fixed him with a solemn gaze as he pondered how to explain the lesson he was trying to impart to his disciple.
"Zepar, there are many dangers in our world that don't care about honor, dignity or etiquette," Edarin explained seriously. This was something Zepar was well aware of, but the lesson hadn't truly been hammered in yet. "Sometimes, Zepar...if you want to win, fighting fair isn't an option."
An hour later, Zepar strolled through the town with a soft smile. The town of Gilramore was one of the larger towns in the region, and it was Gilramore that Zepar now called home. Two years previously, when Zepar stumbled into town, he was near dead. He had travelled for miles without rest, water or food. Fortunately, his now favorite bartender found him. The rest, was history. Zepar stopped in the shade of a spruce tree and closed his eyes. 'This is what I wanted,' he thought to himself happily. 'Nobody stares, nobody avoids me. I'm just treated like...one of them.' He let out a contented sigh before continuing to walk.
Zepar stopped in front of the local fruit vendor and smiled. "Tom, good morning," he greeted the middle-aged man cheerily. "How's the wife?"
"Zepar, good morning," Tom replied with a grin. "She's over the moon. Did you hear the good news? I'm gonna be a father!"
"That's wonderful, Tom," Zepar exclaimed. Tom and his wife, Iris had been trying to conceive for a few years, and Zepar was truly happy for the couple who would finally be welcoming a new addition to their family. "I can't wait to meet the little one."
"Careful, I may just impose on you to babysit," Tom joked. "So, the usual?"
"That's right," Zepar said with a nod, ignoring Tom's joke about babysitting. He handed over a couple silver coins and accepted the large sack of apples from Tom. After bidding goodbye, he left and headed down the street towards his destination. Zepar plucked an apple from the sack and bit into it as he approached the Crimson Boar Tavern.
"Zepar, good morning," the elderly bartender greeted him after he entered the tavern.
"Boris, I keep asking you. What's so good about it?" Zepar joked. Boris was the very bartender who had found Zepar when he first arrived in Gilramore and had become a close friend ever since.
"Well, we're not dead yet," Boris shot back with a toothy grin. Zepar couldn't refute his words, so he simply shook his head helplessly before handing over the sack of apples.
"I'll have the usual, Boris," Zepar said as he took a seat at the bar. Boris nodded and stored the apples under the counter before pouring Zepar a tankard of apple ale.
"I gotta say, Zepar," Boris began in a contemplative tone. "You're really something. I can't believe none of us thought of making ale from apples before you suggested it." He eyed Zepar curiously as the latter took a deep pull from his tankard. "Just where do these ideas of yours come from?"
"Apple ale was fairly common where I grew up," Zepar muttered, trying to keep the tension from showing on his face as he thought of Grimcrest. "We actually had festival every year with many different delicacies that used apples." Hearing Zepar's explanation, Boris nodded his head in understanding.
"Are you ever gonna tell me where that is?" Boris asked. "I'd love to visit some time."
"F-far away," Zepar stammered, trying to calm his racing heart at the thought of his good friend learning what had happened to Grimcrest. Boris simply sighed in resignation. He'd known since the day they met that something bad must have happened in Zepar's childhood. Zepar never gave straight answers when asked about his former home. When he did give answers, they were always vague.
Zepar's attention was drawn to a conversation a few seats down and subtley moved a little closer to listen in.
"I can't believe it," one man whispered.
"Neither can I," the other agreed, a bit louder than his companion.
"So that guy Rio, he was the demon Malvario?" the first man asked incredulously.
"Yeah, apparently he'd taken human form to be with Annabelle," the second man confirmed. "And when the knight commander killed her, he blew himself up to kill him."
"Good for him," Zepar commented, leaning with his elbow on the bar as he sipped his ale. "He gave everything for love, and everything to punish the cretin who took his love away." The men turned to look at Zepar with dumbfounded expressions.
"I guess, but why would a demon go so far for a human?" the second man exclaimed.
"He wanted love," Zepar said with a dismissive shrug. "People are always going to crazy lengths for what they want." Hearing Zepar's words, the two men looked at each other before turning back to him.
"So what would you be willing to do to get what you want?" they asked in unison. Zepar smirked at this question as he remembered his master's words.
"Whatever it takes."