The tavern was incredibly dim. The last patrons had left the establishment many hours ago. Rebecca stood quietly behind the main wooden counter. She held a damp cloth in her right hand. She wiped the sticky surface of the long bar. The thick wood smelled heavily of spilled ale and roasted meat. She moved her hand in slow circles across the grain. She made sure to scrub away the stubborn dark stains left by heavy iron mugs. The tavern was entirely silent. The deep silence acted as a heavy blanket over the large open room. She finished cleaning the bar and moved to the scattered guest tables. She grabbed the heavy wooden chairs one by one. She lifted them carefully from the floor. She placed them upside down on top of the round tables. Her leg muscles ached deeply from the long day of serving demanding customers. She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. A few stray strands of her long curly hair stuck firmly to her damp skin. She reached up slowly and wiped away the sweat forming between her small horns.
She breathed heavily and leaned her tired back against the nearest plaster wall. She let out a long sigh of pure exhaustion.
"Phew," Rebecca muttered to the empty room. "It would be incredibly nice if I had a coworker to help with all this mess."
She walked behind the counter again. She grabbed a stiff broom from the small corner closet. She began to sweep the loose dirt and discarded food crumbs from the uneven floorboards. Every sweep of the bristles echoed loudly through the silent building. She gathered the loose dirt into a small neat pile near the front door. She scooped the dry debris into a rusty metal pan. She tossed the waste into the wooden bin sitting outside the back door. The cool night air brushed gently against her flushed face. She closed the heavy back door and locked the iron bolt tight. She walked back into the center of the main room. The only illumination came from a few scattered wax candles mounted on the walls. The melted wax dripped slowly down the dark iron holders. She needed to extinguish the small flames soon. First, she desperately needed to rest her aching feet.
She walked over to the small decorative shelf located near the kitchen entrance. A framed physical photograph sat resting on the top shelf. She reached out and picked the heavy frame up. She wiped a thin layer of gray dust from the glass cover. She stared closely at the frozen image trapped inside the wooden border. The picture showed a much younger version of herself. Her dark curly hair was significantly shorter back then. Standing directly next to her was a young girl with bright ginger hair. It was her half-sister Jane. Jane looked incredibly small and innocent in the old faded photograph. A sharp deliberate cut ruined the right side of the picture. A sharp blade had removed an older relative completely from the frame. Rebecca traced the jagged edge of the cut paper with her index finger.
She remembered the exact day her father left them behind. He walked out the front door and never looked back. The massive responsibility of running the entire tavern fell squarely on her young shoulders. She had always found it incredibly hard to run the demanding business entirely alone. The daily manual tasks piled up endlessly. Buying fresh supplies, cooking hot meals, serving cold drinks, and cleaning the dirty floors consumed all her waking time. She rarely had a spare moment to simply breathe. She placed the photograph back on the shelf carefully. She made sure the frame stood perfectly straight. She walked away from the shelf and headed toward the small living area nestled in the corner of the room.
A comfortable fabric couch sat positioned next to a low wooden table. She sat down heavily on the soft cushions. She let her head fall back against the padded backrest. Her head throbbed with a dull persistent ache. She winced in discomfort and rubbed her temples slowly with her fingertips.
She opened her tired eyes and looked down at the low table. A small leather book and a wooden first-aid kit sat resting on the polished surface. She reached forward and grabbed the heavy medical kit. She held the wooden box securely in her lap. She looked down at the brass latches with a quiet warm smile forming on her lips. The simple sight of the medical tools brought a very specific memory directly to her mind.
A unique traveler had come by her tavern some time ago. He appeared to be a demi-human or someone of an entirely unique origin. His face was constantly obscured by a strange swirling fog. His chosen name was Lucid. She remembered the terrifying evening he stumbled blindly into her tavern. He was completely covered from head to toe in thick red blood. He had just saved two local children from a catastrophic rift disaster. The city guards, Bjorn and Gabriel, had found him in that terrible bloody state. The guards brought him back to the safety of the town.
Rebecca had opened this exact wooden medical kit that night. She used the sharp needles and thick thread to stitch up his deep physical wounds. She cleaned the dried blood from his skin with strong alcohol. She listened closely to the wild rumors spreading rapidly through the town. Everyone talked loudly about his heroic behavior. He risked his own life without hesitation to pull those innocent children from the chaotic rift incident. She smiled widely at the vivid memory. He was incredibly brave and undeniably endearing.
Lucid stayed in Tyriana and took on various local tasks. She offered him a warm room to stay in her tavern entirely free of charge. She quickly found him to be an incredibly hardworking individual. He helped her manage the tavern during the busiest evening hours. He cleaned dirty tables, served drinks to angry patrons, and kept the rowdy crowds organized. Working alongside him was genuinely one of the most exciting times of her life. It was also the least lonely period she had ever experienced since taking over the family business. Lucid was a genuinely nice individual to have around the building. He never complained about the hard manual labor.
Then the situation in the town grew highly complicated. Lucid became deeply involved in the dangerous omega rift incident. He also spent a significant amount of time working directly at the governor's grand mansion. The wealthy governor suffered from a rapidly deteriorating health condition. Lucid helped the sick man with matters of high political importance. Rebecca remembered feeling deeply worried during that stressful time. The busy tavern felt painfully empty without his calm presence. She missed her dedicated worker and trusted friend. She constantly feared that something terrible might happen to him while dealing with such powerful people.
When he finally returned to the tavern, he brought shocking news. He mentioned a young girl named Jane. Rebecca had firmly believed her sister was dead. A terrible plague-like disease had ravaged their family in the past. Yet Lucid revealed clearly that Jane was still alive. Jane currently worked at the governor's large estate. Lucid had saved Jane during his terrifying journey into a dangerous open rift.
Eventually, Lucid packed his few belongings. He waved goodbye and continued his long journey away from Tyriana. He left the quiet town behind to face unknown new challenges.
Rebecca held the medical kit tightly against her chest. 'If only I could find someone as hardworking and integral as him,' she thought to herself. The busy tavern desperately needed another reliable set of hands.
She placed the medical box back onto the table. She stood up from the soft couch and stretched her stiff back. A new surge of motivation filled her chest. She walked behind the main counter and opened a low wooden drawer. She pulled out a small piece of white chalk and a rectangular wooden board. She carried the two items to the nearest clean table. She bent over the wooden surface and began to write in very large clear letters.
Looking for a new hire.
She stepped back and inspected her artistic handiwork. The white letters looked slightly uneven. She wiped the board clean with her damp rag and started over completely. She experimented carefully with the spacing of the letters. She wanted the public message to look inviting and friendly. After several focused attempts, she finally achieved the perfect visual layout. She took the chalk and drew a small smiling face in the bottom left corner. She drew a little decorative heart in the bottom right corner. She set the small chalk piece down and wiped a smear of white dust from her cheek. She reached up and wiped another smudge of chalk from between her horns.
She smiled brightly. She felt incredibly pleased with her artistic effort. She picked up the wooden board by the attached rope string. She walked toward the front entrance of the tavern. She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped out onto the front porch. The cool night breeze rustled the green leaves of the nearby trees. She hung the sign on a sturdy iron nail positioned next to the doorframe. She adjusted the board until it hung perfectly straight. She simply could not work all alone anymore. Putting up this simple sign was the very least she could do to fix her current exhausting situation.