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3.97% Water Belongs to the Dead: Heart of the Witch / Chapter 12: The Fight

Chapter 12: The Fight

Serenica burnt the paper in her fireplace. She packed everything that could potentially become useful on a long voyage. She didn't know why, but she felt the need to be very thorough.

Towards the Blue Girl she left, and she closed her door very carefully while leaving, trying the lock three times. This was her last time leaving her old apartment. This was the first night of her life in exile.

Helen, she only missed Helen. Everyone else could choke for all she cared.

She knew the socialite would never abandon her circles, and she couldn't ask that from her. This was how it had to be.

A small drop of bitterness poisoned her well. How much she had done for this city and how little she had received from it! Accusations and threats.

The Blue Girl was glad to have her, though. There was still no sign of Gadfly, but there were other pirates who told Serenica they knew him. This raised her spirits.

She threw her last coins on the table. "If these won't get me drunk for the whole night, I do not want to live."

"You talk like you're the only one feeling this way," the lady of the house said, took the money and put a tankard of ale in front of her. "Don't pick a fight and I'll let you die if you want to. You look like you've got a fight inside you."

"I do, but it's very internal."

"Keep it that way."

Serenica promised to be outwardly peaceful and found herself a quiet corner to sit in.

Someone came to her in the middle of her third tankard. Someone scrawny, a young man, barely over twenty years old judging by his boyish looks, this young man came to her, obviously drunk off his ass.

"You shouldn't deal with the pirates," he said. "It's bad luck. My father ran into them once. He has only one leg now."

"I'm sorry to hear your father is stupid," Serenica said. She was definitely not in the mood to listen to sermons by men even she could have killed with a single punch.

"You have a bad attitude. It'll get you in trouble, Mister."

Serenica realized this man thought her to be male. She didn't care, though. If one spoke in a manner like that, it didn't much matter if the speaker would have been nicer to a girl.

"Look, you bastard," she began, and her words brought an utterly shocked expression to the young man's face.

"See, I am tired of damn idiots like you who absolutely have to share their opinion about everything. Rumoring and tattling. Whining and moaning about things that are none of your business. Scram, before I put this tankard through your fragile little brain."

The strike was so sudden and fast that it caught Serenica off guard. After taking a punch in her teeth she wised up, though, rose from her seat, still staggering from both the ale and the fist, and headbutted the man in his face.

Now it was the young fellow who staggered. The lady of the house was looking at them like she was betting on the other to win. She didn't seem to truly care about the fight, as it happened in a corner and not in the middle of rich smugglers.

Serenica didn't stop. As the man struggled to regain control of his feet, she gave her worst. She kicked him in the knee so hard that the skinny young man fell down.

He got up quickly enough, arousing laughter from the crowd in the middle of the room. The smugglers and pirates were surely entertained.

Serenica blocked a punch with her arm and as the man threw another, she grabbed the offending arm and assisted the assailant's own strength, which took him further towards the wall, she aided only a little by pulling the man from his arm with her both hands – and the young belligerent hit the wall head first, also hurting his fist in the process.

A roaring applause saluted her. She didn't think of knocking out such a tiny and inebriated man as an achievement. After all, she had taken a hit herself, one she only now registered. Her lip was bleeding and her nose had taken damage, too, a red line ran down from her nostril towards her chin.

"No ordinary man fights like that," a redheaded smuggler said to her after the dizzy man had been escorted out of the tavern. "Are you from the city watch? Those bastards pack a punch. If you are from the city watch, I'll have to order my men to kill you. There's been plenty of them around here lately."

Serenica didn't know what to say. Perhaps her delicate features weren't feminine enough. Perhaps her chest was too small in size. Perhaps it wasn't her fault that the smuggler's eyes were apparently made of wood.

She opened her shirt. As she didn't have an undershirt on, her breasts were now bare, unmistakable.

The redheaded man blushed. He became redder than his hair in the face and muttered an apology.

"I must say, you do fight like a lass. Straight for the jugular, eh?" he finally said after regaining his composure.

Serenica took that as a compliment, which it probably was. She buttoned her shirt and looked at the man with an expression that was as defiant as it was prideful. She had just knocked out a man, albeit a scrawny one, who was currently being carried out with little care about whether his body parts took additional hits from the walls on the way.

"Let me offer you a drink, fine young missy," the surprisingly gentlemanly smuggler said. "I know they do not appreciate girls like you enough in this town. But we do! In the Blue Girl, we do love a woman who can hit!"

Serenica was utterly confused, as her sensibilities as a healer were strongly against being rewarded for violence. She said something about that and the smuggler nodded knowingly.

"Ah – I see – you probably know Ingram, do you not? She's so much like you, I have heard. My name is Theod. Theod the Red. You can probably see why, no, go ahead and laugh. It is not the most creative name."

"No, I don't think it's silly at all. I am Molly. I do know Serenica Ingram, she is the best healer in town."

"Aye! She is! I have heard nothing but good things about her."

All the misery had been too much, the misfortunes had worn Serenica down until her emotions had become paper thin, and now positive experiences were just bubbling out of every corner in the known universe. The sudden happiness, too, was a bit much.

Serenica hid her tears and accepted the rum that was offered to her. The lady of the house looked pleased. Where there was a woman gathering attention, there was money to be made for those who dealt in liquid courage.

"Watch out for her," Theod whispered, apparently having noticed Serenica glancing towards the lady. "She likes money."

"Then we have something in common."

"I am serious. If you come here troubled, she'll offer a solution and take everything you have as a payment. It's a deal with the devil."

Devil was a funny word, something newfangled, brought to Neul by the religion of the crown. Serenica giggled internally at the thought of the king of demons being male. It felt foreign and even a bit blasphemous to her Raelian roots.

She decided to say something about that as well. Theod thought that was a very profound thing to say. They engaged in verbal pleasures for the better half of an hour.


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