Chapter 217: Magic of Drinks

Author’s note: Hey everyone.

Friday's here at last.

Enjoy the chapter and the weekend! 

Chapter 217: Magic of Drinks - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/123300418

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Chapter 217: Magic of Drinks

“Vara! About time you got your ass over here," a guardsman at the nearest table called out, smirking as his gaze settled on me. "Who's the Terr'den chick?”

“Use your eyes, idiot - that’s her,” his drinking buddy muttered. “The one I told you about.”

“Her?” His brow creased, disappointment clear. “You made it sound like she was a damn huge beast. Looks more like a… gorgeous Terr’den to me.”

The heat of his words hit first. Then came the chill.

“If you’d actually listened, you’d know she can turn into one!”

'How did they know? Just how?' No one in Castiana had seen me shift - not fully. Only Mr. Scoresby and the few who’d been with me in Esulmor had seen my beast form. ‘So how?’

“Is that why Deckard picked her? Because of her pretty face and…?”

Vara didn’t so much as glance their way. “Ignore them.” Despite my distressed whimper and the urge to turn on my heel and run, she continued to drag me deeper into the tavern.

At the bar, she slid onto one of the open barstools, claiming it without hesitation. A woman in a neatly pressed uniform looked up, her posture as sharp as her tailored jacket. “Ah, Corporal Vara,” she said, voice smooth and measured. “Judging by the talk, I wouldn’t have expected you here today…”

[Barmaid: 124 sigils]

'Damn, dual-array.' Even fresh to Castiana, I knew that wasn’t common here. Not rare, but not something you brushed past, whether in taverns or shops of all kinds this close to a gate. Someone with as many sigils as she had belonged closer to the heart of the city, where the coins flowed thick and the jobs paid better. Either she had her own reasons for being here, or the owner had deep pockets. Either way, it spoke volumes about the place.

“...and you must be the one everyone’s talking about tonight. Deckard's apprentice. Good catch—first drink’s on the house. What’ll it be?”

“That includes me, too!” Vara beamed.

“Nice try, Corporal, but you’re paying for your own. So...?”

"I..." My tongue tripped over itself under her stare. "... I don’t even know what’s on the menu."

She flashed a smile and tipped her chin toward the blackboard behind her, its chalky scrawl listing drinks. “Pick the priciest, and I won’t argue. A word’s a word. But…” she leaned in slightly, “fair warning. Not everyone can stomach a Dragon Fart, and a Chimera's Kiss might be the last one you get tonight."

"Then... then what would you recommend?" I asked, shifting my glance between her and Vara.

"Me? I like Thunderbrew - like taking a bolt to the chest," the Barmaid said, thumping her bust before spreading her fingers in an explosion. "Or if you want something lighter, there’s Ogre's Milk. Thick, creamy, and deceptively strong."

"No, not that one, Korra. We’re late. Need to start the night with something stronger."

"Wyvern's Sting, then, Corporal? It may have a delayed burn that sneaks up on you fast."

"Not a fan of the taste. I’ll take the Basilisk’s Gaze."

I waited for an explanation, but neither Vara nor the Barmaid gave one. Just shared a knowing smile.

“Always fun to watch," the Barmaid said, raising a brow as if daring me. Feeling like a fish out of water - used to choosing between whiskies, vodkas, and absinthe - I decided to take Vara’s word for it.

"I'll have that Basilisk's Gaze as well."

"Excellent," the Barmaid said, flashing her teeth. "Two Basilisk’s Gazes, coming right up."

The moment she set them down, doubt gnawed at me. The glasses were bigger than expected, for one. And the drink itself? Two liquids, yellow and green, swirling together like they were alive, glowing faintly but never mixing.

"To tonight, Korra." Vara lifted her shot, expectant.

I hesitated, then sighed and followed suit. “To tonight.”

"May it end with the fuck I hope."

'The what now?' My brain stalled, but my body moved on instinct, tipping the shot back. Say what you will - some habits never die.

The alcohol hit bitter, sharp on the tongue - not in a bad way, just unexpected. Then it hit. A shock down my throat, a rush that turned my blood to ice. I froze, breath caught, muscles stiff as if a great beast had fixed its gaze on me. The air itself felt heavier. My ears flicked up, wings unfurled on instinct, and my tail bristled like a startled cat. Couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, just locked in place, eyes wide.

Then, just as suddenly, the ice cracked. Heat surged in its place, not fear, but something sharper - exhilaration. My pulse raced, breaking through the freeze. Around me, laughter rang out, grounding me as the last of the stiffness faded.

"Oh, now that was priceless," the Barmaid said, laughing so hard she had to wipe away tears. "Seeing stiff faces is always fun, but you Terr'dens... that was perfect."

"W-what was that?"

"Basilisk’s Gaze. One sip, and you're caught like prey."

'Was this really just alcohol?' It felt like something more - magic, even. Back on Earth, a drink could set your blood racing, dull your thoughts, or steel your nerves. This? This… this was different.

"I see you liked that one, huh?" Vara thumped me on the shoulder, grinning like a damn fool. "Got your nipples as hard as mine? Anyway - one Goblin Piss, Thal."

'Goblin what? What was with those names?' Seriously, if drinking the Basilisk's Gaze was like staring at the beast in question, I didn’t even want to imagine what this one tasted like. "Is it... you know, another brandy?"

"Beer," Vara said, still grinning. "Looks awful, tastes better, and cheap as dirt. Want one?"

I hesitated. "I don’t..." No easy way to admit I had no coin. "H-hold on! Didn’t you lose all your coins, too? I mean, they took all our stuff."

"Huh? What are you talking about? Harcon gave me all my stuff back."

"...He what?!"

"Yeah - ah, that was after you left. Best ask Rayden about your things. And here’s a tip—never keep all your coins in one place. Better yet, enjoy it while you can. Speaking of… thanks, Thal. Put it on my tab."

"Is that…?"

"Goblin Piss," Vara said, too damn pleased as she tipped the mug back.

I barely swallowed down a gag. Looked exactly like what the name promised—yellow, murky, reeking, not a bubble of foam in sight.

"Warm as it should be," she added.

Another gag threatened. ‘Warm?’

Vara snorted, catching my reaction. "Takes a bit to grow on you. But once it does, you’ll see - it’s not the worst."

"I'm not sure I want to get used to that."

"Then you’d better cough up more coins."

Didn’t have much to cough up. Unless they were handing out water for free, there was only one choice I had. "Best find Deckard first."

Vara laughed. "Good luck with that."

"What do you mean? He's not here?"

"No, he should be. Hope he is. But first, you’ll have to get through them," she said, eyes gleaming as they swept over the crowd. "Right, guys?"

A wall of voices crashed into me - "Yes!" "Absolutely!" "No chance!" - loud enough to make my head throb. I clamped my hands over my ears, but it barely dulled the noise.

"See?" Vara grinned, slipping off her barstool. "Lucky you. You’re in for quite the night. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find Elira."

"What? No, no, no! You can't just leave me here!" My words fell flat against the roar of the room. She was already gone, the crowd parting like waves before swallowing her whole.

And in her place? A broad-shouldered, striking man, eyes glinting with amusement. "So, what's it going to be, Apprentice of Deckard?"

'Wait - was THAT why everyone was here? Were ALL these people here for ME? To drink with me - Deckard's Apprentice? I'm screwed, aren't I?'

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Author’s note: I've enjoyed writing about different drinks perhaps a little too much - as a result certainly more to come. Which kind, that will be something for you to find out next week - or rather next month. See you in March. :)

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                                                     Glossary

                                                   Korra’s Grid

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