[dplax]

Nivram

One last sip then holding the bottle upside down, hoping for a few more drops to fall. But it is finished. It's not that he's still actually firsty, and it's certainly not the need for more alcohol, for he is already quite drunk. It's just that feeling of not wanting a good feeling to end, not yet wanting to move along, trying to delay the inevitable. The feeling doesn't last long and swiftly drifts away, leaving only hazy, barely coherent thoughts behind.


It is thus, slowly swaying in his chair, that the drunk man's gaze sweeps over a flash of gold among two floorboards. It does not grab his attention, not much can in his current state. A sympathetic barmaid walks by and seeing the empty bottles in front of Nivram sends a questioning glance his way. Nivram shakes his head and opens his purse above the table. Nothing falls out. The barmaid laughs and moves along.

Hours pass and Nivram just sits in his chair, deeply lost in thought, almost asleep, but too drunk to be able to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. Eventually he falls asleep, half-slumped on the table.

He wakes to a rough hand shaking him. He tries to blink away the haze blanketing his eyes, but he can not make out the face of the man…woman…whatever in front of him. A pair of hands takes one of his hands and places something in his palm, closing his fingers over it.

“It’s best not to leave things like this laying around the floor my friend”, the voice, definitely female, says. “Sweet dreams,” it continues as Nivram swiftly falls back to sleep.

The morning was far away and painful as the innkeep poured buckets of water over those who had fallen asleep in his establishment during the night. Still, Nivram had seen worse, travellers being thrown pennyless from taverns for falling asleep. At least the owner had waited for the morning here.

He steps into the sunlight outside the inn, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down. It is only then that he notices that he is clutching a gold coin in his hands. It must be from some far away land, for Nivram had never seen its like before. Words in some foreign language adorn one side with a tree in the middle, and on the other side…

The coin drops from Nivram’s hands as he sees the face on the other side of the coin. He bends down, fighting back the dizzyness from the hangover and picks it up. On further inspection he notes that there are a few dissimilarities, but still the resemblance is uncanny. Could it really be Isokla or someone related to her who was pictured on the coin?

Could this be fate intervening, in having an honest person come around and hand him the coin? Could it be some god handing him the coin, trying to send a message? Nivram had never been a believer. Any belief he had had while younger had evaporated after all he and those he cared for had gone through. It had to be fate then. Fate must want him to…to…to what? Nivram didn’t have a clear answer, but Isokla might have. Now that was an interesting thought. It might have come since she was pictured on that coin…

The coin might have been an instrument of fate, but it was also the only money Nivram had and thus was promptly used to purchase supplies for the journey Nivram had suddenly decided he needed to undertake. Freeing Isokla from the evil clutches of the bandits wasn’t going to be easy, so ample amounts of supplies were going to be needed. After much haggling, the gold coin bought three dozen bottles of quality vodka and food for a fortnight.

Nivram would have to ration himself to a bottle a day…

It was only several hours after setting off that the alcohol cleared his mind and he started wondering whether the face on the coin had really resembled Isokla or whether it had been someone else. But his mind was made up…and besides he had the perfect liquid medicine for dispelling doubt.