In the modest coffee shop that was renowned as the best in the town of Featherkeep, a lone vampire sat at a random table, arms crossed, frowning at a sheet of paper laid out in front of him. The vampire, the Owner of the shop, had been presented that paper by a young goblin man who had visited the shop only days earlier. And that sheet of paper was a job application.
It looked like a normal job application. The young goblin who wrote it up was honest about his experience and he was sincere about wanting to work at the shop. However, there was one HUGE problem with it. And that problem was the goblin’s biography was totally false.
But that alone was not what troubled the Owner so deeply. The REAL problem was the true identity of that young goblin.
On the job application, the goblin named himself Alan Ares. But the goblin’s true name was Alphonse, and his dad’s the king of this land. Of all things, the future ruler of the whole country wanted to work for the coffee shop and its Owner.
Many people would probably think it was exciting to hang around real royalty. But for the Owner, he could only see it becoming a real big headache.
After sighing again, he muttered to himself, “Now what am I going to do?”
On one hand, if he let “Alan” work at the shop, it would bring in a lot of unwanted attention to the shop, the Owner, and his family from people the Owner would really like NEVER to meet. On the other hand, if he said no, that would mean crossing the single most powerful family in the country and he’d still end up with a lot of unwanted attention. There’s also the third option of going straight to the King and letting him know what his son’s up to and have him deal with it. But would the guards even let a lowly coffee shop owner step foot in the castle, let alone speak with the king?
No matter what his options, he’d still have to deal with a heap of troublesome stuff.
“Just what in the world did I do to deserve this?” he wondered aloud.
But even as he asked that, he remembered a whole bunch of stuff he did in the past that warranted bad karma.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
The Owner looked up.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
Someone was outside knocking on the front door.
“Now who could be here at this hour?”
The sun had long since set and there should be a sign on the door that told all that the shop was closed for the day. But despite all that, someone was there signaling they wanted to come inside.
Understandably wary, the Owner pulled out a small mirror from his pocket and waved his hand over it. A ripple distorted and erased his reflection, replacing it with an image of outside the shop. Four men stood at the door, three humans and one goblin. The humans all wore matching blue capes and jackets. And strapped to their hips were swords.
The goblin, however, wore a gold cape. And his jacket was white with gold edges. He had no sword, but in his hands was a walking stick with a gold, round top crown studded with purple jewels.
One look at that fancy getup was enough to tell the Owner who the men were and he swore under his breath. In hindsight, he should have expected them to drop by.
Knowing he shouldn’t waste any more time, the Owner hastily went over to the door to let the men inside. The visitors entered one by one in the order of blue, gold, blue and blue. One blue cape stayed by the door while the other two stayed at the side of the gold caped man. Rather blatantly, the blue capes always had at least one hand on their swords.
As soon as he closed the door and locked it again, the Owner stepped into the circle his visitors formed and dropped down on one knee before bowing his head to the goblin in the gold cape.
“It is an honor to have you here, Your Majesty,” the vampire said to the goblin.
The goblin stroked his small, pointed beard thoughtfully and went, “Hmm. So you recognize me.”
Like any other goblin, he had green skin and ears shaped like bat wings. But he was also a bit taller than the average man, and stood with a straight back. Both his gray mustache and beard were neatly trimmed. And although he had command of all the wealth and luxury in the land, he was gaunt and strong-looking like a soldier.
“Of course,” the Owner said in response to the goblin’s comment. “Who would not recognize their own king?”
That’s right. The tall, proud-looking and aged goblin was the King of the land of Ariela.
“So you just recognize me as the King, huh?” the regal goblin muttered.
“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” the coffee shop Owner asked.
“It’s nothing, never mind,” said the King. “Anyway, I see no reason to stick around too long, so let’s get straight to business. Do you know why I am here, Coffee Shop Owner? Or should I call you Trickster?”
The coffee shop Owner didn’t stir at his old nickname. He had expected someone like the King to at least hear of his old exploits.
“Either would be an honor, Your Majesty,” he replied. He kept his eyes trained on the floor’s wood panels. “And to answer your other question, does it have to do with your son, Prince Alphonse?”
“Indeed,” said the King. “You see, he came to see me one night and expressed interest in working for a meager coffee shop. And not only that, it was the coffee shop run by none other than the infamous Trickster who played a major role in the Shadow Civil War.”
The King kept careful watch of the vampire kneeling in front of him. But the former Trickster and currently a coffee shop owner didn’t even flinch at the mention of the Shadow Civil War. Instead, however, he spoke up.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, my role in the Shadow Civil War was nothing compared to the role the Hero of Light played.”
“Hmm.” The King stroked his beard again.
“My apologies for getting off topic,” said the Owner.
“It is fine,” said the King. “Anyway, about my son, I decided to allow him to work here. I just came to let you know that.”
The Owner finally looked up, dumbfounded. “You what?”
“Was I not clear enough?” said the King. “I said I will allow my son to work in this shop. I know that you must have been worried about how I would feel about Alphonse being a lowly drink server, which is why I came here to tell you that I think that playing the role will actually be good for my son.”
It sounds more like you came here to force me to let the prince work here rather than lay my worries to rest, the Owner thought. The King had spoken like the Owner already hired the Prince when the vampire actually wanted to do the exact opposite.
“And don’t worry about giving my son any special treatment,” the King continued. “As long as there’s a good reason for it, you may scold him however you wish. It would, however, be best if you keep his identity as royalty hidden. And about his safety, obviously I will have knights in disguise around to keep an eye on him. But I do have confidence in the protections of the Trickster’s own domain.”
He’s leaving me no room to say anything, the Owner thought.
For some reason, it felt like the King was actually bullying him. But why? Did the King had some kind of grudge with the coffee shop Owner? Could it be that they had actually met somewhere before during his Trickster days?
The coffee shop Owner glanced up at the King, but the monarch just smiled back.
Yeah, there’s just no way, the coffee shop Owner thought.
And then he sighed his deepest sigh of the night and said:
“It would be my honor to have Prince Alphonse here.”
*********
“So that’s what happened,” said the town’s Head Magus.
She had come by for her regular afternoon tea when she noticed more stress than usual in the vampire coffee shop Owner and asked what was wrong. For today, she had chosen to come as a human instead of as a creepy doll. Even the coffee shop Owner who knew the Head Magus longest did not know why she liked to transform into that doll so much.
“It must have been pretty nerve-racking, dealing with the King of all people,” she said.
“It was definitely one of my more stressful meetings,” the coffee shop Owner admitted. “And things are just going to get more troublesome around here now that I have to deal with the Crown Prince every day.”
“Wow, am I glad I’m not in your shoes right now,” said the Head Magus. “You know, there’s a word for what you’re going through right now.”
“What?” asked the coffee shop Owner.
“Karma!”
The Owner frowned at the Head Magus. “You’re enjoying my suffering right now, aren’t you?”
“A little,” the Head Magus admitted with a smug grin.
The Owner scowled at her. And then an idea came to him.
“Say,” said the vampire, “what’s your schedule for the next month?”
A few more days later . . .
“There you go,” said a young goblin after pouring fresh coffee into the Head Magus’ cup. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Ma’am?”
“That will be all, Alan,” the Head Magus replied with a friendly, but extremely strained smile. “Thanks.”
Completely ignorant, Alan beamed back and replied, “Not at all. Anything for one of this shop’s most valued customers.”
He didn’t even notice that the town’s top magician’s hand was shaking as she brought the cup to her lips.
From across the floor, Peggy called out, “Hey, newbie! Come help me clear this table. We’ve got a party of five waiting outside.”
“Coming!” Alan replied back. And then he gave the Head Magus a small bow. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to step away for a little bit. But I’ll be right back to give you a refill.”
“Take your time,” said the Head Magus. “No, seriously. Take your time.”
Alan flashed the Head Magus another smile and then strolled away.
As soon as he was out of earshot, the Owner asked the Head Magus, “So how’s our new guy doing, Miss Most Valued Customer?”
The lady magician glowered at the vampire and said to him, “I so hate you right now.”
**********
The King sat in his office, deep in thought. In front of him, on his big work desk was a stack of papers he had finished going through for the day.
A knock at the door brought the most powerful goblin of the land back to his senses and he called out, “Enter.”
One of the huge, black wood doors swung open to give way for a tall human man with black hair, and a big, hooked nose. He wore a blue suit with lots of shiny medals adorning the jacket. Hanging from his belt was a sword.
“Done for the day, Your Majesty?” the swordsman asked the King.
“I am,” the King replied. “And I guess it’s the same for Alphonse, since you’re here.”
The swordsman nodded.
“He has already retired to his room,” he said.
“How was he?” the King asked.
“Prince Alphonse was nothing short of excellent,” said the swordsman. “He was an honest, hard-working, and friendly. Everyone he met had nothing but praise for him.”
“Good! Good!” The King clapped his hands together in glee. “As a father, nothing makes me happier than to hear my son doing good work. And?” His eyes grew sharp. “What of the Trickster?”
The swordsman shook his head and threw his hands in the air.
“Disappointingly normal,” he said.
“Hmm,” went the King. “That’s too bad. I’d like it if he squirmed some more. But I suppose I’ve done enough for a satisfying revenge. Still, it’s hard to believe that he didn’t remember me, even after I went to the trouble to get the gang back together for that little meet-and-greet.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” said the swordsman, “we only did battle with the Trickster one time around twenty-five years ago. A lot has changed since then.”
The King stroked his beard.
“I suppose,” he said. “I did look a bit wild back then.”
A bit? Thought the swordsman. I don’t think having a Mohawk hairdo dyed bubblegum pink and full monster-like face paint is just “a bit” wild. Probably even the Trickster in his wildest dreams could not imagine a member of royalty looking like that.
It wouldn’t surprise the swordsman to learn that the Trickster thought that the King, a prince at the time, was just some weirdo knight who could get away with any weirdo thing.
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