The ghoul teeth scrape across the floor as Fresh swipes her hand from one side to the other. The girl lays on her stomach, down on the floor of the store. It’s early in the morning, just after their breakfast and Basil hasn’t arrived yet.

“Ghoul-tooth. Ghoul-tooth. Ghoul-tooth. Ghoul-tooth… Ghoul… hmm…”

“What?” asks Jubilee, looking up from the counter.

“It’s not the same,” sighs Fresh.

“What…?”

Fresh shakes her head and swipes the teeth back the other way.

“Stop playing with the ghoul-teeth. That’s disgusting,” says Jubilee. Fresh looks down at the two elongated teeth laying on the floor before herself. She supposes it is kind of disgusting. But she’s been working with so many teeth that she doesn’t even really think about it any more. These are just like the goblin-teeth, only a little longer and sharper. “Weren’t you going to make something out of those?” asks Jubilee and Fresh stares up towards her friend, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. Jubilee sits behind the counter and is sewing a pair of boots together.

“Yeah.” She looks back down at the ghoul-teeth. “I just don’t know what yet.”

“Well, it’s only two, so something small? I doubt you can make a weapon out of just those.”

“Hmm…” Fresh thinks, pushing the teeth around as she mulls over a few ideas. “Maybe I can make something with the boss-core?”

“Maybe,” says Jubilee. “We have ten percent of the wizard’s core and you have yours to do whatever you want with.”

“Mm!” nods Fresh, thinking for a moment. “What about yours?”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you get a boss-core from the boss fight?” asks Fresh.

“I did,” answers her friend, somewhat warily.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“None of your business, goo-brain,” says Jubilee, pulling the thick needle through the still open sole of the boot.

Fresh purses her lips, getting ready to argue. But then she relents. Maybe it really is none of her business. She looks down at the two teeth that are still laying there. As her eyes stare, transfixed, her mind wanders. Her thoughts are still free and unhindered by the early morning lull that suppresses her anxiety. Her head turns the other way and she looks out behind herself, at the glass-chickens lining the shelves near the potions. Their crystal bodies shimmer in the early morning sunlight, which comes to peek in through the large storefront window with a lazy shine.

As she stares at it, she isn’t really sure why, but her mind goes to the image of the large orc. Basil’s friend and party-member. She wonders if Basil is doing okay? She seems like it. But Fresh wonders if the priestess isn’t just putting up a front, after all, she’s so busy too. She has to take care of her own responsibilities and she has to watch over her wards at the church, plus she has to watch over the two of them too, to spy on them.

Fresh tilts her head at the odd thought. It’s not wrong. Basil is here to spy on them for the church for whatever reason. But she’s still just a person like any other, so Fresh hopes that she’s doing okay. Her mind wanders back to the grisly thoughts of the murders and to the sensation that she was being followed the other day. Was it just paranoia? Maybe. But the mental connection is there now and she can’t just ignore it anymore.

“Jubilee?”

“Yeah?” asks Jubilee, snapping a string in half and then tying it off.

“Did they ever find out who that murderer was?”

“You mean whoever butchered the orc?”

“Jubilee!” scolds Fresh.

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “No. Not that I’ve heard. But I haven’t exactly been asking around either, you know?” they say. “But we owe them a huge favor for giving us an easy way around the church.”

“Jubilee!” scolds Fresh.

Jubilee shrugs. “It is what it is.”

Fresh groans uneasily as the room goes quiet. She listens to the sound of the fountain trickling outside on the plaza. Something is causing her unease lately. Is it just stress? Maybe. She isn’t sure. Or maybe it’s the constant sound of the splashing water, ringing in her ears every day that reminds her of the things she has seen in her restless dreams.

The girl sighs and gets up, deciding that she needs something to do, so that her mind doesn’t wander so much. It’ll be hot again today, so maybe she’ll make a new batch of the sweet-teas. Maybe she’ll put one or two bottles near the golem-core to make them cold. That sounds nice. Even if she can’t share them with Basil. Well… maybe she could say that she bought a new golem-core? Hmm… the girl thinks, going to collect her things.

“I’m going to get some fruit. Be right back,” calls Fresh to Jubilee, who sits behind the counter, sewing.

“Yeah, don’t take too long, Basil is picking up the church’s potions soon.”

“I won’t!” she calls out and steps into the outside world, stopping at the half-way point as she rattles the door-handle. “Jubilee, I think the handle is a little loose.”

Jubilee looks up to her and shrugs. “Fix it later then. It probably just needs to be tightened.”

“Okay!” calls Fresh and runs out into the city, making her way to her favorite fruit vendor as always. By the time she comes back, the cart is already outside of the store. Sensing her approaching, the large anqa stomps on the stone road in clear agitation.

“Kiyah!” shouts the creature, pulling against its reigns as it tries to get to her. Fresh quickly vanishes inside of the store, running into Basil who was heading to the door to see what the fuss is about.

“Oh, good morning,” says the priestess, looking past her out of the door at the anqa for a moment, who seems to settle down at the sight of her. “He really doesn’t like you…”

Fresh sighs, setting the fruit basket down on the counter. “I don’t know why.”

“They say animals can sense evil,” remarks Jubilee.

“Hey!” pouts Fresh as Basil who stands behind her tries to hide her laugh. She turns around, looking at the priestess who quickly hides her expression. “Should I help you load the potions up, Basil?”

The priestess nods. “Yes, please.” She stands there quietly for a moment, her expression troubled as if there is something else that she wants to say, but can’t quite muster the courage. “Ah, I almost forgot.” Basil digs into her pocket and slides a letter over to Jubilee. “I was asked to pass this on.” Fresh stares at the priestess who seems oddly tense today.

Jubilee takes the letter, tearing it open haphazardly along the sides, completely ignoring the ornate wax seal on the back of the envelope. Loudly unfolding the paper, their eyes begin wandering over it as they read. “Let me guess, you kooks want some lan -”

The room is quiet for a minute as Jubilee reads.

“The fuck?” Jubilee looks up to Basil. “Do you even have this many people at the church?”

Basil tugs on her own sleeves somewhat nervously. “I’m just passing on the letter. The cardinal asks that the deliveries start next week.”

Jubilee sighs and looks up to Fresh. “Guess who’s making an extra hundred potions every week?”

Fresh blinks and looks around the room, before looking back at Jubilee as she finds nobody else to assume the worst for. “Is it me?”

“It’s you, goo-brain. Who else?!” barks Jubilee, slapping the letter down onto the table.

“But that’s so many potions!” says Fresh, turning back to Basil who keeps fidgeting. “Minor soul-potions or the normal ones?”

“The normal ones.”

“Baaaaasil!” cries Fresh, grabbing Basil’s hands.

The priestess shifts uneasily. “There’s a backside,” she mutters.

“Huh?” asks Fresh.

“The letter. There’s more on the back,” repeats Basil, a little louder now, but still timidly as she looks away.

Jubilee lifts the piece of paper up and flips it over. “A church tax?! We don’t even go to church!” yells Jubilee, slamming the paper down and pointing at Basil. “Ten percent?! What the fuck is wrong with you people?! The merchants’ guild only wants five and we don’t even give them anything else!”

Fresh wants to scold Jubilee for yelling at Basil, especially since they’re trying to stay on the church’s good side. But this seems unfair even for those circumstances. They’re being robbed at a bureaucratic level.

Basil lifts her hands. “I’m just delivering the le -”

“Why would we even agree to this?!” snaps Jubilee, placing their hands on their hips.

“I’m just delivering the letter…” repeats Basil, looking away. “Sorry.” The priestess pulls her sleeves free from Fresh’s grasp, the bracelet jangling beneath the long fabric. “You’ve been expanding your inventory so much and the cardinal saw the toys that you donated and said you must be doing well and that it’s only fair for you to give back to the community that you got your money from.”

“Are you fucked in the head?!” yells Jubilee. “You realize how fucked that is, right? We made some toys for some orphans so now we have to pay the church money for doing jackshit?”

“I’m just delivering the letter,” repeats Basil quietly, looking down towards the ground.

The letter crumples in Jubilee’s hands as they crush it into a ball and fume, their eyes wandering from Fresh’s uneasy gaze back to Basil. Fresh can tell that Jubilee is furious and in truth, she is too. This is beyond unfair. But what else can they do? They have to stay on the church’s good side. They live on the razor’s edge as is and any disturbance in any direction could threaten to send them hurtling off into the abyss.

Jubilee exhales a sharp breath. “Load up the potions and bring them to the church. Then get back here,” they say, very coldly. “You have half an hour. If you’re late, you’re fired!” barks Jubilee, throwing the crumpled-up paper at Basil. It strikes her chest and then falls down at her feet. Fresh watches as Jubilee stomps upstairs. Turning back, she looks at Basil who quietly picks up the crumpled paper and then starts loading up the potions by herself, the priestess' eyes never leaving the ground as she silently works.