Mistlefoe: A Mead Realm Tale (Mead Mishaps)

Chapter 1

There’s nothing like a shit-talking sword to reinforce the notion that your dad is an idiot. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying in vain to will away the chorus of foulmouthed weaponry adorning the small forge. Three days of this nonsense had me in the worst of moods, and from the looks of it, there was no end in sight. “Yeah, hit me harder, daddy!” cried the dagger laid upon the anvil.

My dad paused mid-strike, looking close to tears. He dropped his hammer on the cobblestone floor and wiped the sweat off his brow. “I can’t work like this!”

“You can work me five ways till Sunday, big guy.” called an ax hanging on the wall. The usually-proud man slumped his shoulders in defeat and sat on a stool next to his workbench. Soot marred his face and unkempt beard. The soot and dirt were commonplace in his line of work, but the fact that he hadn’t trimmed in days was an alarming sign of his distress. My mom loved a well-kept beard, and he worshiped the ground she walked on, so it was rare to see a hair out of place. This spell was getting severe.

“Well, who told you to steal from a demon?” I asked him.

Dad combed a hand through his dark hair and sighed. “Ruby, you know we needed the ore. The iron mines have been tapped clean all around the kingdom, except for where that damn fox settled in. If it wasn’t for that no-good king hoarding all access to the mines in the northern mountains, we might have had a chance!” Large fists balled up and slammed down on the wooden bench. “But noooo!” He cried, his voice rising with rage. “First sign of a demon invasion, and the cowardly bastard puts a monopoly on every resource he can get his hands on!”

“The king has small dick energy!” cried the sword.

Dad jumped up from his chair and pointed at the blade. “Finally, you say something I can agree with!”

There he goes again. “Alright dad, let’s not get too worked up.” I said. The old man could rant for hours about the political landscape of Goldcrest city if left unchecked. Many family dinners throughout my childhood were filled with ramblings on taxes being too high or the current king spending too much money on mistresses and trebuchets. All good points, but ones I’d heard a million times before. “Is there any way you can return what you stole?” I asked.

“Not unless you’ve taken to eating air.” he waved to the dwindling inventory around him. Weapon sales skyrocketed once the city got word that the latest demon purge failed. Not only that, but our goddess - or the witch masquerading as a goddess - had been killed, which meant no more protection from our supernatural neighbors. It had only been a month since we heard the news, and no orcs had come in to storm the city in that time, but who knew how long that would last?

Our customers had become relentless in buying up any weapon we had to offer. Well, before dad went and got himself cursed. It turned out even the most zealous doomsday prepper wasn’t too keen on a battle-ax shouting sex jokes at all hours of the day. After a particularly saucy lance called Mrs. Davidson a tuna fish hoe, it was pretty much over for our sales. The old bat looked so mortified I feared she’d drop dead right in our shop.

“Have you tried apologizing to it at least?”

My old man tossed his hammer down into his tool bucket. The crease in his brow became even more prominent. “I can’t even make it a foot into the forest without being chased out by monsters.”

“Well, no shit, blacksmith!” piped up a lance on the wall. “He knows who you are now. Go back, and he’ll eat your liver!”

He pointed a thumb at the shouting lance and nodded. “That’s what the trees kept saying.”

“The trees threatened you?” I asked. It sounded more like he had too many shots of liquid courage before going.

“Yes! The trees came alive and tried to snatch the beard right off my face! There’s no way I can go back there.”

My head fell in my hands, and I let out a groan. “Fine!” I snapped. “I’ll apologize to the damn fox. Just stay here and don’t piss off any more demons!” Ignoring his mortified expression, I made my way out the door.

“Ruby, wait! That beast might just kill you sooner than look at you. We don’t know how dangerous these demons are!”

I whipped back to glare at him. “What other option do we have? The ore you stole isn’t going to un-curse itself. Hey, long sword!” I shouted past him.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to stop talking and be good for our buyers?”

“Take me to the red-light district, and we’ll talk about it.”

Hoops and hollers erupted from the room. “Me too!”

“I wanna see some ass!”

“Remember to pee after sex!”

Dad clenched his fists but remained silent. Despite the dangers, he knew I was right. Our savings would only last so long, and the rise of inflation was only going to get worse the more our king hoarded supplies for himself and the nobles. Spineless pricks.

He turned from me and snatched the longsword off the wall. “Take this, at least. I’m not having you out there unarmed.”

Sunlight gleamed off the shining metal, and I could have sworn I heard the thing giggle in excitement. The blade was longer than half my body, but it was an ideal weapon for women: longer reach and all that. Well, once you get used to the weight. There was something to be said about a woman with the confidence to unleash hell with a long sword. Men tended not to mess with you once they saw you swinging a fine blade like it was nothing. Possibly why I was still single at thirty-two, but who’s counting? Men are dumb, and are seldom worth the bother.

I took the sword from him, as well as a back holster. Long swords were far too cumbersome to carry on the hip, and I’d always end up with shooting pains if I wore one for too long. Or maybe I was just getting old. They say your body starts to go to shit after twenty-five. Working as a blacksmith all my life probably didn’t help my case either. I mostly handled the shop and bookkeeping once I turned twenty, but the younger me didn’t escape the backbreaking labor of the family business. On a pleasant note, I could forge a spear sharp enough to pierce any armor.

On the way back to my home, I made a mental list of things to bring with me. Unsure of the etiquette of demon apologies, I figured a good bottle of wine and a few baked treats were a fine start. “Hey sword,” I called behind me. “What does your master like?”

The answer was a muffled mess. Absently, I pulled the sword’s hilt up, so a small portion of the blade was free from the sheath. “That’s better!” the blade gasped.

Heads turned to view us, but I ignored them and kept going. Everyone already knew about the curse - there was no sense in pretending I wasn’t a crazy woman openly chatting with a sword. Turning past the shopping district, I headed down an alley containing a row of modest apartments. The delightful smell of fresh cherry cobbler filled the air, and I made another mental note to ask my neighbor, Anna, for a slice to add to the ‘please un-fuck us’ basket. “Well?” I asked again.

“Oh honey, I have no idea. I was born three days ago when your father made me. If I had to wager a guess? I’d say butt stuff.”

“Is that your answer to everything?”

“No!” it cried. “Sometimes violence is also the answer!”

I sensed a blinding migraine in my future. “Right, a sword that likes butt stuff and violence. Perfect. You are the ideal travel companion.”

The sword’s voice took on a serious note. “I contain multitudes. Nothing shall stand in our way! The world will be ours!”

“You know we’re just apologizing to a fox, right?” I asked, stopping in front of the faded red door of my home. I quickly made my way inside, grabbed a picnic basket, and placed it on my kitchen counter. If I played my cards right, I could be over and done with this stupid errand before it got dark.

“Yes, yes, first the fox, but then I say we keep this partnership going! Forget this smelly city! Let’s hit the open roads and go East! Eventually, we’ll hit the sea! You know what’s in the sea, right?”

“Please tell me it isn’t sea butts.” I drawled.

“Mermaid butts!” It screamed, delighted.

My groan was met with a flurry of cackling. “Let’s just get this over with.”