Esme thumbed the slick condensation forming on the glass handle of her mug; golden ale bubbled lazily and she stared absentmindedly past her table. It was bright in the pub, squat lanterns lined the walls and small, globular lanterns sat at every table. People filled the room and the atmosphere was lively as the night moved onward, alcohol softening the edges of their brows.

“Hey, Esme! You’re only allowed to look that distracted if you’re looking for a celebratory lay."

She snapped to attention and looked at Io and Yasmine, also huddled around the table. After a moment, she laughed heartily and gave Io a firm punch in the shoulder. He smirked and rolled his eyes.

“Are you scared?” Yasmine asked, leaning towards Esme, her elbows on the table.

“No, not really. And how can I be, with good company and better drink?” Esme said. She took a swig from her beer and the golden liquid went down as smooth as water.

“Oh, fuck off,” Io said, smiling against the rim of his own mug.

“It’s going to be a great adventure." Yasmine gushed with a mawkish smile, “Gallivanting beyond the kingdom! Training everyday, every hour, gives little time for such luxuries. You’re lucky."

Esme smiled and said nothing, bringing the ale to her lips. It was getting louder, as people became increasingly jocular with their discarded mugs and full stomachs. This pub was her favorite. It gave discounts to registered adventurer’s and was a place with class, protected by the very adventurers it favored—she was particularly fond of the owners, a plump couple that she first met as a fledgling in the army.

She would rather be talking with them than sitting at this table. Her companions' smiles were stretched with effort, light not quite reaching their eyes, their generous kindness conditional. They would have done almost anything to get what she had achieved. Yasmine was in her army division and Io was a friend from the adventurer's guild; both were decent, but selfish people. Most of the people around her were.

“You’re doing it again,” Io said flatly, and Esme raised her hands apologetically.

“I’m just appreciating the taste of the fine ale. Speaking of that, the future looks bright, for all of us—cheers to us!” She raised her cup and the others followed.

“Cheers to you!” Jasmine said, Io following, and they clinked their mugs, drink sloshing and tipping over the rims. Esme drank and drank and drank, gulping the entire amount of ale before she slammed the mug onto the table with a hearty sigh. The alcohol didn’t burn, not anymore. The others took their time downing their drinks, and for a few seconds she allowed herself to lean back and close her eyes, head swimming.

She was to meet the hero tomorrow. To soon set off away from her home and everything she had ever known. She had trained for so many years, fighting through the exhaustion after every practice, bloodthirsty competition within her division, and loneliness of a life dedicated to justice. Esme was free now, freed by the ultimate task of bringing saving the world, of bringing the greatest justice. But anxiety brimmed under her skin. It bubbled and writhed, as if it were about to burst forward as easily as a rock breaking through a pond’s surface. She tipped her head back against the hair and inhaled deeply. The sound of two mugs hitting the table’s surface, the thunk of glass on wood, brought her to attention. She swung forward in her seat with a beatific grin.

“Another serving of ale, over here!” Esme said, hitting the wooden table with an open palm. Her companions hooted and hollered, shaking the table with their raucous laughter.