Jack took the finished journal entry and looked it over before getting up from the wooden chair and walking toward the wooden cabinet. He opened the drawer and placed it inside.
When was the selection process for the clerk position? Was it on the third day of next month? I'll have to go and read it again. This might be the best chance I get at survival..
Sitting back at the table he placed his hand on it and fidgeted with his fingers.
He took a deep breath and exhaled before stretching his arms.
It's boring.. What am I supposed to do?
He looked at the papers again, then shifted his gaze to the spear still resting on the bed.
He got up and walked toward it, picked it up, and moved to the center of the room.
He settled into a fighting stance, arm extended, and began rotating the spear the same way the older child near the bakery had before getting mobbed by the other children.
He swung it twice, then took a look at the bladeless serrated tip.
Swinging this around is useless. And stabbing someone with it is going to be lethal without a doubt.
But it'd be a one-time use.
I do remember that when I was younger I used to read and play some games about fantasy stories.
I hope I get the chance to learn about magic..
The quietness broke with a yelling man's voice from the street.
"Jack!"
It wasn't deep. It was slightly cracking, clearly not used to yelling.
Looking outside, Jack saw Aldric standing in front of his house and Bren across the street, checking the neighbor's yard.
He set the spear leaning against the wall and looked out through the window.
Friends of Jack's? I should stop the blonde one..
Jack opened the window and leaned out. "Stop him! Don't let him go there!"
Aldric turned to see Bren walking into the yard of a house marked with a large X on the door, completely unconcerned.
He placed his right hand on his head and yelled. "Bren! What the fuck are you doing in there? Do you want to die? Get back here!"
So the blonde one is Bren. If my assumption is correct the pale one could be Aldric, the one Delma talked about.
Taken aback, Bren looked toward Aldric and slowly jogged back onto the dirt road. Aldric began to lecture him. Jack closed the window and walked toward the door.
He opened it and stepped out into the yard, moving toward the two of them. Their voices became clearer as he got closer.
"-sorry, I didn't think about it." Bren's voice came through first, and immediately Aldric cut him off. "Didn't I tell you? The priest told me not to come in contact with the dead."
Jack cleared his throat to get their attention.
Bren saw his friend looking fine compared to the rest of Faithful Street and put both hands on his shoulders. "Jack! You're alright!"
Aldric stopped his lecturing. "I heard from the church that the disease took a street near the slums a few days ago. I hoped yours wasn't the case."
"If you wish, I can ask Priest Aldwin if he can give you residence at the church. It's not good to stay around the afflicted."
Shared housing isn't something I'd like to go back to, especially right now.
Jack looked at Aldric. "I'll think about it."
The chilly wind filled the silence. Bren, who by now no longer had his hands on Jack's shoulders, spoke quietly.
"..Let's go get a drink together."
Aldric moved his gaze to Bren, his mouth opening before stopping. He let him continue.
Bren saw this and kept going. "I heard there's a new tavern that opened up in the place of the Smelly Fish."
With a name like that, no wonder it was closed.
"What's the name?" Jack asked. Bren smiled. "The Sixth Tavern."
Is the place cursed to only have bad names? Since it has a Sixth in the name that could mean it's either the sixth tavern in the same spot or the sixth tavern in town.
Jack tapped his pockets, letting out the clink of coins.
"I still have some coins left from buying food and stuff, let me leave some of them—"
Bren stopped him. "Leave all of them home."
Jack was a little confused. "What?"
Bren walked around, snapping his fingers, seemingly trying to work out how to explain himself. Eventually the snapping stopped, and his index finger pointed at the cloudy sky.
"Jack, no offense, but you look like shit."
". . ." Jack stood there without a word before responding in a flat tone. "Jeez. Thanks for the compliment."
Aldric was staring at the apple tree, almost all its little apples eaten. He looked at Jack, then at Bren. "Bren, what are you try—"
Bren cut him off. "Let me finish."
"You see Jack, we should have come to find you when you didn't show up to work at the port for a few days."
Bren clasped his hands together and took a breath. "So think of this as an apology. For not checking up on you when we should have."
Aldric added quietly. "I agree with Bren. I went to Delma on my way to church.. I should have taken the time to visit you too."
Seeing both of them on the same side of it, Jack decided not to refuse.
"Alright. I accept."
. . .
It was almost nighttime. The cold breeze from the ocean had picked up.
At the edge of the port near the beach stood a two-story building. The bottom floor was red brick, the top half-timber with white plaster, the roof dark wooden slates.
From outside you could hear a muffled lively song played by flutes, drums and a guitar. Simple wood picnic tables lined the front, filled with sailors and townsmen eating and drinking. Near the edge of the area, children played with a spotted dog.
Above the door a wooden board read: "The Sixth Tavern."
Bren, Aldric and Jack stood nearby, taking it in. Bren, who lived close by, had stopped on the way to grab coins for the drinks.
Aldric spoke first. "I'll go find a table. You two go in."
He looked toward Bren and tapped three fingers against his head.
Jack noticed the exchange. Before he could think about what it meant, Bren turned to him with a grin.
"Let's go in!"