An Illusion to Feed.

It was the wind that whispered. It was peaceful. The lilacs swayed with each breath of the breeze and the birds near by twittered in an unknown joy. She was there, lying on her back, gazing at the deep void of pastel blue. The petals of flowers brushing against her skin with each flow. It had been so tiresome lately. It was nice for some rest. Miraye’s eyes were closed slightly and she held a stare with a drowsy expression.

What had become of the world today? Why was there hatred? Why is there violence? And she was one of the reasons that the darkness loomed the earth. Hypocrite, she called herself, closing her eyes. But she could still see the clouds behind the veil. She inhaled the sweet scent of the bouquet that surrounded her. She felt as though she was a saint, laid to rest with flowers in her coffin. A small smile smoothed upon her face.

“Dreaming again, little one?” he asked as a new movement stirred next to her. The familiar scent of the spring fields filled her and his familiar arms wrapped around her fragile body.

“How did you know?” she asked, lying on her side and burying her nose into the crook of his neck. His hair tickled her.

“That smile means content with your thoughts. I can read you like a book.”

“And I’m guessing I’d be called ‘Miraye the Malicious’ if I really were a book?”

“No,” he whispered, pressing his lips on her forehead. Her skin tingled in excitement and her heart swelled. “You would be the very words, the inspiration that Shakespeare thought about when he wrote Romeo and Juliet.”

She smiled to herself. “I wish things were like they used to be.”

“I as well.”

--

Miraye’s hand slapped away the foreign object that was nearing towards her. Her eyes opened slowly and fixed a glare at the man. “Correction. What’s a mess of gents like you doing here?” She sat up and folded her hands on the desk, crossing her legs. “If you’re causing problems for my friend here, rest assured that you will be kicked out of this tavern and you can go search for drinks somewhere else.”

“We were just asking the fellow for some of your strongest drink. No need to threaten.”

“But from what I see, you physically rustled his feathers. From your expressions, I’m guessing you doubt he works here. And from what I say, he works here. Along with me. Any more of this rough housing will get you banned here.”

They didn’t take her seriously.

“Okay then.” She took an empty glass mug, placed it on the table and smashed it with her fist. The blood seeped out but no pain crossed her and she gave the men a smirk. “You don’t follow what I say, your very cocks will end up the same way.”

They all turned their heads and fell silent.

“Tic, you got to know how to intimidate people like them,” she said, nudging him back to the bar. “You can’t just let them push you around all the time.”

She didn’t see his lips purse tightly.

Miraye led them both behind the bar and she grabbed four mugs that would hold pints off the shelf. The sleeves of her gown were getting in the way. She pushed them above her elbows so her arms could move more easily. Her eyes surveyed the bottles. What to use? All their colors shimmered before her eyes as though they were pleading to be chosen. Her imagination wasn’t helping and she shook her head.

“Which one of these holds the most alcohol?” she asked, not moving her eyes from the nozzles and bottles.

“The black nozzle can knock out a guy within two drinks,” she heard Tic mutter.

“We can’t serve them only that. They said strongest. I’m going to get them hallucinating and out of here faster then they came in. What’s that red bottle for?” Her eyes settled on the devil with a snake tongue on its logo. It seemed special.

“I don’t know,” Tic whispered.

“To hell with it.”

Miraye shot out her arm and grabbed the bottle. She filled each mug with only a teaspoon of it and slid the mugs under the black nozzle, pulling and filling halfway. With another teaspoon of green abstinence, a touch of pure alcohol and filling the rest with vodka, the drink was ready to go.

With two mugs in each of their hands, the boy and girl walked back to the group of men. They set it before them. “House special, governors,” she explained with a touch of devilish mischief in her eye. She took Tic’s arm and they settled back behind the counter. The men looked at each other, deep with doubt before they toasted, slamming their mugs and ravenously drunk. Miraye squeezed Tic’s shoulder and her eyes went wide watching them. They all finished at the same time, sharing a quaking belch while their eyes shot open in amazement. It was though they were watching something so interesting and not realizing their eyes deceived them. The group spontaneously started to roar in laughter before they stopped silent, gazed at each other and fell backwards.

“Looks like they enjoyed it,” Miraye giggled.