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- The regular, sir Hero?
- Yes, thank you.
A large beer mug was slid in front of him, and he nodded at the bartender with a kind smile.
From this corner of the tavern, he could observe everything happening, and the lights were dimmed enough so that no one could notice him. Hazy blue eyes lazily darted around the room filled with wooden tables and chairs, calloused fingers tapping out of tune with the cheerful notes played by a bard not far from him. He watched as people come and go, saw the changes in their expressions; some brought heavy sorrows into the tavern and left with a drunken smile, momentarily forgetting their burdens, and there were those with the opposite outcome. There were lonely individuals finding their ways into this happy place, and there were groups of men drinking away epic tales and exaggerated stories, their arms looped around each other's shoulders as they laughed together merrily.
There was a peculiar bunch of knights that caught his eyes. Sat in the middle of the tavern, nine soldiers raised their mugs high, cheering loudly and downing their drinks in one single gulp. He let out a silent chuckle as the youngest one suddenly coughed, seemingly not used to chugging so much liquid at once. The others' laughter rang up, and they continued their tale-telling night as soon as the young soldier's coughing fit calmed.
It was...familiar.
His tapping on the wooden mug slowed down, while he reminisced the old times he had with his allies. They also had evenings in this tavern, drinking and chatting, their worries and woes temporarily put aside off their shoulders. The captain would nudge the old man's tensed back until he finally relaxed, shoving a large mug into his stubborn hands and filling it with golden beer, white foam rising to the brim. The captain would also let his little sailor loose on those nights, letting the pirate in his heart live his best life. That always led to a drunken sailor pulling the smith and the traveler to the middle of the tavern and dancing to the enchanting tunes the bards played, while the veteran rested his older-than-his-age body and had a chat with the Chosen Hero, showing his easy smile that not everyone could witness; he might even sing some shanties with the sailor if he was feeling like it. And at the end of the night, he would see the ranch hand and the old man dragging a bunch of drunken lads out of the tavern, all laughing at their silly encounters. Even when they woke up the next day with terrible headaches and stomach pains, the relief flooding them in the form of white beer foam was enough to move their feet.
Well... It was years ago.
He slowly raised his mug, muttering their old cheers before taking a long sip. He pretended they were still here, wide grins splattered on their faces lit by the waving lights, their mugs clanking against each other.
The beer tasted bitter, sweet and aromatic, as always.
Yet, the days were long gone, in the blink of an eye.
He looked inside the mug, shaking it lightly, creating small waves of golden liquid. And he saw a tired face staring back at him.
Sapphire blue was obscured by a layer of grey mist, long hair cut short, and his youth was slowly slipping out of his grasp.
It had really been that long, huh?
He guessed those were the days, then.
~o0o~
Another decade passed.
The Hero reentered the familiar tavern, dropping his gears down on the floor.
No one heard him. No one saw him sitting down at the bar.
His hand raised hesitantly, before dropping down on his lap.
Not even the bartender could see him.
He watched the old man diligently cleaning the worn mugs, holding that broad, kind smile on his face just like the olden days.
- Oi, knight!
His ears perked up, his shoulders tensed at the call. But then he remembered and plopped back into his cold, lonely corner. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.
He was just hallucinating. What was he thinking? There was no one-
- Brat, don't ignore us like that! Be respectful to us old men here!
Bold laughter confirmed his suspicion.
Someone was calling him. Someone saw him.
- Welcome to the team. Again. - The captain chuckled, waving at him from across the tavern. - You are always the last one.
- Come sit, we have a lot to tell!
Cheered the sailor, who was dressed in a long navy trench coat. He seemed older but no wiser with that signature lopsided smile he wore.
- Man, you really did grow old.
He heard the veteran's remark, looking over to see the man leaning on his protege. The traveler only replied with a light flick of his wrist, telling him to not mind his words like always. On the other side of the crowded table were the ranch hand and the Chosen Hero, stopping their long chat about swordsmanship to greet him. The smith soon joined in, and the old man, surprisingly old, pulled him down to sit with them in a tight circle. A mug of beer was passed to him, and everyone was waiting for his sign to continue.
He smiled, and nodded.
They all raised their drinks, chanting their cheers loudly and downing the golden liquid in one gulp. Just like the old days.
And so, they drank the night away, arms looped around each other's shoulders as they laughed merrily. The beer tasted bitter, sweet and aromatic, and he felt his woes lifted off his chest.
Among the loud chattering in the tavern, the bartender swore he could hear faint laughter ringing around inside the four walls.