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Chapter 32 - Rowdy tavernings
🕑 Added 2025-09-24 19:44:37 +0000 UTCSerel was quieter than usual.
It didn’t surprise Vera. In fact, she would’ve been more worried if the girl had just bounced back to her usual energy after everything that had happened. But watching her half-trudge through the streets of Marrowfen with only a fraction of the interest she’d showcased before at all the rib-boned buildings and sights left a weight in Vera’s stomach she didn’t quite know how to name.
She was learning that there were about a hundred shades to the feelings that came with caring for a kid. Concern. Frustration. Relief. Pride. They really seemed to blend together in ways that made it impossible to separate one from another. She supposed that was part of the novelty—figuring out which feelings were what and all—but it was a type of stress she could have done without.
What she could say was that the current sinking sensation came from something new. Something she was still trying to put her thumb on. It was an ache at seeing the little bundle who’d forcefully carved herself a place in Vera’s heart be unable to take joy in the things that had lit her up before. While the logical part of Vera told her it was almost guaranteed to be temporary, there was also the gnawing thought that it was somehow her responsibility to help Serel find that joy again.
It actually reminded her of herself when she was younger. Serel was very, very different from how Vera had ever been, but there’d been stretches in her own youth when her hobbies stopped sparking, her interest dulled for no particular reason. During those times, her mother had tried to drag her into new activities, like it was her single-minded mission to rekindle something in her. At the time, Vera had just found it annoying. Now, though, she thought she maybe understood why her mother had been like that.
Although she had no plans of being anywhere near as overbearing as her mother had been. Still, she really wished she knew what to do here. She’d reassured Serel as best she could, and she had no intention of letting the girl out of her sight anytime soon—but the gloom hanging over her didn’t appear to want to leave.
They walked hand in hand down a narrow street where the scent of smoked meat and some sort of frying batter drifted from a food stall. When Serel glanced toward the stall, Vera thought she caught the faintest spark in her expression. The girl’s hand twitched lightly in hers, and Vera found herself waiting, almost holding her breath, for her to speak.
“Mommy…” Serel murmured.
“Yeah?” Vera asked carefully.
“…Can we go back to that place?”
Vera blinked. “You want to go back? To the temple we just left?”
Serel shook her head, eyes dropping a little. “No. The other place. Where we ate…”
“Were we… do you mean the tavern?”
The girl nodded.
That felt like it came out of nowhere. Vera studied her. Why now? Just because they’d passed a food stall? Or was there something else?
Serel looked up with a half-expectant face, and Vera felt her confusion soften. “…Sure. We can head over right now. Maybe get something to eat too. It can be our lunch.”
Serel didn’t say much more, but Vera hoped that asking at all was a good sign.
It took a few questions for directions, but before long, they found themselves back at The Bleeding Chalice, where they’d spent their first night in Marrowfen. The tavern sat tucked close to one of the canals, three stories of smooth white bone, with arched doorways and narrow windows looking down on the street.
When Vera pushed through the door, a wave of warmth met her, along with the scent of smoked herbs and simmered broth. The white-lit lanterns painted the interior in cool hues, and the place looked to be fashionably busy. A decent chunk of tables were occupied, with at least three of those housing a rough-looking band of men and women slouched over mugs, half of them already dozing, the rest laughing loudly over slurred stories.
Vera let her gaze pass over them, then guided Serel toward a quieter table near the hearth. She helped the girl into a seat before sitting herself, her attention lingering on Serel more than the room.
“Oh? Familiar faces—think I know ‘em,” came a full, throaty voice.
The tavern matron had spotted them and walked over, a wide grin splitting her face as her one golden eye took them in. It stopped on Serel, squinting, then brightened further. “Little piglet in boots, yeah? I like the hair, lassie.”
Serel had been glancing around the room—particularly at the rowdy group a few tables over—but turned to the woman, staring at her for a beat before ducking her head slightly. She touched a self-conscious hand to her currently raven-black hair, all glossy and straight. “Mmm. Thanks…”
“And polite as a saint, too!” the matron barked, turning to Vera. “You’re raisin’ a proper gem here, lady. My compliments.”
Vera’s eyes stayed on Serel. “Unfortunately, I don’t think she gets it from me.”
“Yeah? Same with my girl.” The matron’s grin relaxed into something fond. “Not sure where that one picked it up, but grateful all the same.”
There was a crash and a round of laughter from the other tables as a muscular woman thumped her neighbor so hard the man’s mug spilled across the wood.
The matron’s head turned briefly, her mouth twisting into a faint frown before she looked back at Vera. “Sorry ‘bout that lot. They’re Table folk—came stomping in this morning, straight from this grand march east fighting ‘em tribulations. Leader of theirs thick as a post, roaring through my doors before sun’s even up, bellowin’ about how he’d be eatin’ our boars first thing. Few manners on that one, but the rest are decent enough folk, so we lit the boneflame for’em, gave ‘em their welcome. Just a shame they don’t know when to call it a day.”
Vera examined the group again. Now that she actually paid attention, she could tell that almost all of them were Kindled. They had to be the ones she’d heard about back at Hollowstone Table. Which meant their ‘leader’ was likely the Chapter-Master.
She was somewhat curious about him, though she couldn’t say if it was quite enough to want to meet with him in person. And while there were things she wanted to ask this group, she didn’t feel like doing so now.
Her attention shifted back as the matron planted her hands to her sides.
“So. That aside, honored to have you back so soon,” the woman said. “Lookin’ for a meal, are you? Still got marrowboar left simmerin’, if you’re inclined. Not somethin’ we serve every day.”
“How much?” Vera asked.
“A bit dear—eight coppers for the both of you, if that sits right with you.”
“That’s fine.”
Vera fished out eight coins and set them on the table. The matron swept them up with one large hand. “We’ll have the cut roasted and glazed for you both in a jiffy.”
With that, she turned and walked off toward the kitchen.
Vera shifted slightly in her seat, head tilting. “Mommy… what’s the cut?”
“I think she meant the marrowboar they’re serving,” Vera said. “A cut can refer to a section of meat, like the rib from a pig.”
The girl seemed to consider that for a moment. “Is it good?”
Vera shrugged. “I’m thinking it probably is. You’ll get the chance to try it soon. If you’d rather have something else, though, just tell me.”
Serel shook her head. “…No. I’ll try it.”
“Alright.”
Vera leaned back, watching as the girl lapsed into silence, eyes roaming across the tavern. The rowdy shouts at the Kindled table, the flicker of firelight across the pale bone arches above, and the smell of smoke and broth—it all seemed to pull at her attention, though Vera couldn’t tell what she made of it.
“Serel,” Vera said eventually, pushed onward by the weight lying in wait in her stomach. “Are you worried about what happened earlier?”
The girl turned back toward her. For a second, something unreadable flickered across her face, then she lowered her gaze to the table.
“What about it is worrying you?” Vera asked. “Does it scare you, what happened?”
Serel shook her head quickly. “No. Not with you, Mommy…”
Vera couldn’t deny the glow of warmth those words brought—half pride, half relief—but she pressed it down and kept her focus. “Then what is it?”
Somewhat frustratingly, the girl didn’t respond.
The silence stretched. Finally, Vera rested her forearms on the table and leaned closer. “It’s fine to talk about it,” she said in a softer voice. “Not now, if you don’t want to. Later’s fine.”
Still, Serel stayed quiet.
Vera let out a slow breath. This was the first time Serel had been like this around her. The girl had clung to her, sulked, pouted, even argued a little, but she’d never withdrawn like this. Vera wasn’t sure what the right move was. Logic said to push, to pry until she got an answer that would actually give her a chance to help. But she remembered some of the times she’d clammed up as a kid, where her parents asking question after question had only left her feeling annoyed that they couldn’t leave her alone. Sometimes she just hadn’t wanted to talk. Maybe Serel was the same.
In the end, Vera only reached out and smoothed a hand over the girl’s head, fingers brushing through the dark strands.
“…I don’t know,” came the girl’s tiny, sudden voice, muffled as if she’d had to force it out.
Vera paused, drawing her hand back slightly. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
Serel’s eyes flicked upward, crimson-silver peeking out beneath her lashes. “…I don’t know, Mommy,” she whispered. There was confusion in her face, terrifyingly raw and unguarded, which hit Vera hard. “I feel… strange.”
Vera’s mouth opened, then shut. She stared, working through what that could mean.
What was she supposed to make of that?
“…Strange how?” she eventually managed.
But before Serel could answer, the sound of light footsteps interrupted.
A girl no older than sixteen approached them, balancing a tray of carved bone with practiced ease. Her messy brown hair was caught in a loose braid that swung down her back, and she carried herself with a sort of nimble energy that drew the eye. Vera had noticed this girl a few times before—the matron’s daughter.
“Here we are,” the girl said brightly, setting two steaming plates in front of them. “Marrowcut, roasted and glazed, with mash and all the assorted greens you don’t really have to bother eating on the side. My advice is to pretend they’re garnish.” She slid two mugs down after, careful not to spill. “Best while it’s hot, but not too hot. I’ve already heard three people wail today about burning their tongues.”
Vera eyed her, lifting her mug to take a sip, finding that it was warm milk. “Thanks.”
Serel peeked at the food, then at the girl, uncertainty written plain on her face. But the young waitress only grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “First time trying it?”
Serel blinked, caught off guard, and for a moment it looked like she might retreat into silence, but in the end she gave the smallest of nods.
“Don’t worry. I made the same face my first time too,” the girl said, wrinkling her nose in an exaggerated grimace before straightening. “But it’s good. My da makes sure of that.”
“…Didn’t your mommy make this?” Serel asked.
“No, my ma can’t cook worth a copper. All’s that’s left to my da.”
“Not your mama?”
Vera nearly choked on her drink.
The girl paused, giving Serel a funny look, then burst into laughter. “Nope. Just da, in my case. Or pa. Papa, if you’d like. Sometimes I switch it up. Keeps him on his toes. Might try ‘mama’ next time, though. That’ll throw him.”
The sly grin on her face was very similar to the matron’s. Serel studied it closely, and for some reason Vera didn’t fully understand, it was as if it flipped something inside her. A small, hesitant smile crept back onto her lips.
Vera stared, not sure whether to feel amazed or to start taking notes.
Or maybe just die of second-hand embarrassment over the ‘mama’ comment.
Wouldn’t it have made more sense for Serel to think of Caldrin there?!?
The girl tucked the tray under one arm and extended her other hand toward Serel. “Gloriosa.”
Serel blinked again. “What…?”
“That’s my name. Gloriosa. Bit of a mouthful and weird, so you can just call me Gloria. What’s yours?”
Serel hesitated for a long moment before answering. “…Serel.”
“Serel?” Gloria’s smile was cheerful. “That’s a pretty name. Congrats.”
“Thanks…?” Serel kept eyeing the outstretched hand.
Gloria noticed, chuckling. “It’s a greeting. Like this.” She gently guided Serel’s small hand into her own and gave it a shake. “There. Now we’re introduced. Which means we’re friends.”
Serel’s eyes went wide. “Friends…?”
“Exactly!” Gloria pulled her hand back, turning. “Ah, but I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you soon.”
She gave Vera a quick nod, then bounced off toward the table where a patron had spilled a drink, producing a rag from somewhere.
Serel watched her go with something close to fascination. And Vera, in turn, watched Serel.
She couldn’t believe she had only realized it just now. Serel didn’t have any friends, did she? Not outside of herself, Caldrin, and the mounts. For a six-year-old who’d lived her whole life tucked away in Sablewatch Hollow, with no peers anywhere near her age, what did ‘friend’ even mean? Something she’d read about in books? Something she’d only heard of in passing?
Once again, it struck Vera straight in the face how unprepared she was for some of the realities of parenting. These were basic gaps she hadn’t even thought to consider. How many other obvious things was she missing?
“She’s got a knack for that,” came the matron’s voice. The broad woman crossed the room in a few long strides, carrying a stack of bone-handled cutlery that she set neatly on their table while looking over toward her daughter. “Unfortunately, she’s also got her da’s memory. Still, never thought I’d raise a chick with the gift o’ chatter. She’s good with folk—kids especially.” Her eye glinted with amusement as it slid toward Serel, still staring after Gloria. “Guess it skips a generation.”
“She’s… good,” Vera admitted.
Practically all of Serel’s gloom had melted away by now, replaced with clear, bright-eyed interest. A part of Vera worried she was losing her chance to address whatever had weighed on the girl, but at the same time… she thought she’d take this over silence any day. Seeing Serel like this eased that feeling in her stomach.
The matron smiled, clearly pleased, then turned as a burst of laughter erupted from the other table. Gloria, wiping the table, shoved aside a half-asleep man who slumped in her way, drawing amused jeers from his companions. The matron muttered something under her breath and lumbered over to scold them.
Vera’s gaze lingered a moment longer before turning to her food, also reminding Serel not to forget her own plate.
Serel fumbled with the knife at first, so Vera helped cut a slice of the marrowboar. One bite later, the girl’s face lit up, surprise giving way to delight. After that, she wasted no time digging in, humming softly under her breath as she ate.
Vera frowned slightly, feeling as if she recognized the tune, but the thought soon passed from her mind as she also savored her own meal.
“I told you it was good,” Gloria said as she reappeared after some time, tray balanced at her hip. She grinned at Serel, and her gaze appeared to catch on something. “That’s pretty, by the way. Did your mommy give it to you?” She pointed toward Serel’s chest.
Vera stilled.
Her eyes snapped down to where the girl was pointing.
There was a locket there. A locket with a silver chain and velvet casing. The rust and dried blood were gone, but it was unmistakably the same locket Serel had clutched earlier. The one Vera had taken away.
Serel looked just as confused, one hand rising to touch it. Her brow furrowed, lips parting as though to ask a question.
Vera’s mind raced. Why was it back? Had she missed it? Or had it never actually left? Most importantly, was it dangerous?
Before she could chase the thought, a stumble of heavy boots broke her focus.
One of the Kindled from the rowdy table staggered out from the back hall, red-faced and reeking of drink. He planted a hand against the wall for balance, veering treacherously close to their table as he passed. At the last moment he swayed sideways, crashing into Gloria and nearly knocking her into Serel’s chair. The older girl’s tray clattered to the floor.
Serel gasped, shrinking back.
Vera was already on her feet.
The drunk froze mid-motion. His eyes widened, muscles locking rigid.
The laughter and jeers at the other tables cut off as the people turned to look.
The man staggered back, paling despite the drink, mouth working soundlessly.
Vera realized what she’d done a second too late, reeling in the invisible wave of pressure that had rolled off her, pinning him where he stood.
Crap.
Comments
Nithenae
Creepy locket and multiple mysteries. These chapters get better and better.
No Name
I feel like Vera is being very dim here... They got stuck in the domain of "something" capable of interfering with the divine, and whatever it was, it was targeting Serel, who immediately started acting strange. This is not a time for "console the kid". This is time for "Find out what that was, what Serel saw/experienced, if any effects linger on her, and if it needs to be dealt with yesterday". Vera really should not have needed that locket reappearing to get in gear here. A kid born with powers beyond the limit of nearly all people alive, with no idea how to use said power to defend herself, is a jackpot waiting to be snatched up.
