Miceter held his breath and closed his eyes before plunging into the bowl of soup. He shivered as the cold broth wrapped around him and cringed when he fell onto something soft and squishy. He quickly broke his head out of the broth towards the surface, taking in a breath of beef-smelling, wet air. He ran his paws across his furry face before cautiously opening his eyes. It was then that he met the eyes of the soup"s owner.A pair of sparkling hazelnut eyes, as wide as saucers, stared back at him in astonishment. The owner"s mouth was slightly open as if he were about to say something. Broth spotted his freckled cheeks and a large, wet blob stained his white t-shirt. Miceter gulped nervously before he opened his mouth.
"Hi." Miceter squeaked.
"Why did I say that? He can"t understand me even if he wanted to." Miceter berated himself.
"I-Is that a mouse?" The owner stuttered underneath the uninhibited laughter that conquered the tavern.
"Ha! This tavern has a mouse infestation!" A snooty voice laughed. Miceter cautiously turned his head towards the voice, inspecting the young man who had spoken.
The young man had neat, fiery red hair and arrogant silver eyes. He wore a smooth white dress shirt and a perfect red tie with a golden clip. Just from one look, Miceter could tell he was bad news.
"I knew this tavern was trash the moment I laid eyes on it! I wonder what we"ll find next, bed bugs hidden beneath our pillows? Better yet--buried in our mattress!" The young man continued to insult the tavern as he picked up his guest towel. Miceter didn"t even have the time to think before he was plucked up by the scruff of his neck from the soup. The wool guest towel blocked his eyes, trapping him in complete darkness. Miceter squeaked in terror as he fought to get out of his grasp.
"Aaron, let the poor thing go." An old but soft voice sighed.
"Why? It"ll just run off and create a bigger mess." Aaron objected.
"Because I said so." The voice snapped back.
"I don"t understand--shouldn"t we nip problems in the bud?"
"He"s not a problem." A hostile voice growled.
Miceter"s heart skipped a beat. He recognized that voice...
...It"s Zed!
"Zed!" Miceter called out happily.
"Wait, is this your vermin?" Aaron inquired, a trace of laughter hidden in his voice.
"I advise you to put him down in three seconds." Zed warned.
"Are you threatening me?" Aaron asked, incredulous.
"Three." Zed began.
"You can"t be serious."
"Aaron, let the poor animal go. As you can see, the owner is right here." The soft voice interjected once more.
"Two." Zed continued to count.
Aaron gave an exhausted sigh before releasing Miceter. Miceter quickly scurried up from underneath the napkin, running onto Zed"s outstretched palm. He hugged his index finger as if his life depended on it.
"I advise you watch that thing closely." Aaron coldly stated. "Otherwise, who knows what"ll happen the next time it"s let loose."
"Aaron, don"t be rude!" The soft voice barked. Miceter studied the man who tried to save his life.
It was an old, elegant man with blonde hair and silver eyes just like Aaron. Crows feet marked his eyes and wrinkles laced his face. He wore a black suit and a red tie that matched Aaron"s.
"I"m sorry about my son." The nice man apologized to Zed, embarra.s.sment could be seen in his eyes.
"You owe Thomas a meal." Aaron interrupted.
The nice man instantly smacked Aaron on the back of the head without even sparing a glance in his direction.
"Apology accepted." Zed threw those words out before he turned and left, taking Miceter with him.
***
"Why did you apologize? It was obviously his fault for not looking after his things!" Aaron demanded after Zed left.
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"Because he obviously didn"t intend on making a ruckus. Although, if I had to be honest, the way he handled it was bit awkward." Aaron"s father admitted.
Thomas watched all of the events unfold, just now processing what just happened. It all happened so fast. First the mouse, then the meeting with the very rude and intimidating-looking man. The fact that Aaron started to act like his step-mother during the whole thing surprised him. He never really acted like that unless they were alone. Why did he start now?
"But he ruined a perfectly good bowl of soup! And my t-shirt! It"s stained! Do you know how expensive that t-shirt was? It"s made of dragon silk, DRAGON SILK!" Aaron argued.
"Ah, that"s why." Thomas finally realized.
The shirt that Thomas was currently wearing belonged to Aaron originally. His step-mother had bought it for Aaron before they had embarked on their trip. It was a very expensive t-shirt made with the finest quality of silk in the land--dragon"s silk. A silk which could only be found inside of the internal organs of a frost dragon. It was not only cold--allowing you to be cool in the summer--but it was also soft. So soft, in fact, you could barely feel it.
"So what?" Thomas"s father carelessly replied. "I can just buy you a new one. Also, what did I tell you about thinking before you speak, huh? Do you not take my teachings seriously?" He suddenly snapped.
"Yes--wait, no, I meant no!" Aaron"s face paled as he faced his father"s death glare head on.
***
Miceter breathed a sigh of relief once Zed stepped outside, closing the tavern door behind them. Despite what had happened inside, none of the patrons of the tavern listened to their conversation. Despite how convenient that magically was.
"Man, I thought I was a goner for a moment there." Miceter admitted.
"Miceter, what happened to you?" A concerned voice inquired.
"Mister!" Miceter exclaimed. "It was terrible! I fell from the rafters into this big bowl of soup. It was so big, in fact, I thought it was one of them oceans you hear about in story tales--the ones that reach so far out into the horizon that there"s not even a lick of land in sight. Heck, not even the tip of a mountain can be seen, and--"
"Miceter." A stern voice interrupted his story telling.
Miceter froze. He knew this tone of voice. "What?" He cautiously responded.
"How have you been." Zed gave Miceter the biggest, most sinister smile he had ever seen in his life. Miceter shivered.