“So Beeg,” It monotoned, strolling out of the Aisle.

  I sat staring at the book.

  “What did you gain and what concessions did you make?”

  “Uh… I learned it’s old.”

  It stared at me.

  “Its name is now Flappy?”

  It snorted but continued to stare.

  “Magic Beeg. Magic,” he sighed. “What kind of magic did you gain?”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “What… what kind of conversation did you think I was having?”

  “A useful one?”

  Well alright then.

  “What will the book do for you, and what will it cost you in return?”

  He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Normally I would say sight in one eye, but you only have one left. Obviously not that.”

  He looked me over.

  “You still have your other leg and both hands… and you can talk. I’m honestly at a bit of a loss.”

  “Well, I didn’t make any concessions, and I learned a thing plus gave it a name. I think I negotiated well.”

  “Beeg, you didn’t gain anything. You are a terrible negotiator. No wonder it gets a permanent spot in your room on that ridiculous bookstand, all for a 5 minute remodel. A remodel you powered, by the way.”

  “Also. The bookstand ruins my view,” he huffed.

  I deflated.

  “Oh.”

  “Beeg,” It sighed, patting my arm. “Come. It’s not too late. We have a cursed jar here somewhere that used to be a lawyer. It’s in its current state because it lost a case to Vaarg,” he chuckled. “But let’s be honest, no one wins against Vaarg. He was a pretty good lawyer in his own right. Time to get you some lessons.”

  I slumped and followed him through the Aisles.

  ____

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “I wasn’t just a lawyer, I was a Judge, you cretin,” the jar scoffed.

  “Well, you lost and are now a jar. I don’t really care,” It deadpanned.

  It was interesting watching a Jar splutter. Something about how it rattled its lid just right made the emotion obvious.

  I idly wondered how long it had practiced such a thing.

  “My friend here, he needs to learn how to negotiate,” It continued, gesturing towards me.

  I took a step forward.

  “And this matters to me, why?” the jar replied.

  Was it jar? Or Judge? Judge Jar? Jar Judge? Jar of Judgement?

  It stared at me.

  “Are you quite finished,” the jar huffed.

  I blushed.

  It coughed.

  “It matters because you are going to give him a lesson,” It drawled.

  “I most certainly am not, you lowly —”

  “You know my co-worker, right? Stupid?” It interjected, raising his voice when he called her name.

  “YETH IT?!” I heard my friend call from the depths of an Aisle.

  “Stupid is coming, It! Stupid is COMING!”

  She sneezed so loudly the floor rattled a bit beneath my legs.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  The jar trembled as the sound of her approach intensified, announced by items crashing from the shelves.

  “It called Stupid ~ “ she sang. “Last time It called Stupid, I haz’d to sneeze a portal to save Beeg!”

  The sound of her approach stopped.

  The jar trembled harder.

  “Will Stupid get to sneeze again?!” she giggled. From the sounds of it, she was maybe 2 Aisle away.

  “EET! Where eez you!” she cried.

  “With Beeg.”

  “BEEG?!” she cried. From the sound of her approach, I had to wonder if she had decided it was faster to just go through the shelves.

  I had never realized, but I was lucky.

  She was quite gentle with my Aisle.

  Ancients above.

  “Now, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” It drawled, “but still, it is worth noting. My co-worker does so love dropping jars for the Store to eat. And he is always just so happy to comply.”

  It grinned in the gloom.

  “STUPID EEZ HERE!” Stupid screeched, careening around the corner.

  “OK I’LL DO IT,” the jar half-screamed, half-sobbed.

  It patted Stupid’s head and turned to look at Beeg.

  “And that, Beeg, is how you negotiate.”

  He smiled, walking away with Stupid.

  I gulped, turning to look at the jar.

  “Beeg,” It called from the end of the Aisle. “Come along.”

  “I thought I was supposed to learn from the jar—udge,” I amended as the lid wobbled.

  It stared at me.

  “Why would I entrust the training of our newest Warlock to a lawyer that lost and now sits on the shelf as a jar?”

  “But I thought — “

  “Beeg. The jar was the lesson,” he sighed. “Now come along, you have cleaning to complete and a book to negotiate with.”

  I left the jar sobbing quietly in the Aisle behind me.

  ____

  “Go home, Beeg,” It called. “We will see you tomorrow.”

  I nodded as I placed my cleaning supplies in my cubby.

  “Think Vaarg will be back?”

  “No. I don’t think we will see the Boss for a while, Beeg.”

  I nodded, expecting as much.

  I wasn’t sure why that made me sad.

  “Thanks for the lesson today, It,” I said as I patted the doorjamb.

  The Store creaked happily and opened the door to let me out.

  It nodded. “I look forward to seeing how you apply it.”

  The walk home through the darkened streets was quiet. Though the rune-glass cobblestones glowed softly, the night felt cold.

  I realized I had grown used to the goblin children and kobold kips and their noise.

  I sighed and pulled my cloak tight, sinking into my hood.

  BOOM.

  An explosion cracked through the night, barely a block ahead of me. I gasped and hobbled forward to find a building in flames, kobolds yipping in confusion.

  I rushed forward to help and froze.

  On the wall, quickly being consumed by the flames, was a symbol.

  A symbol I knew well.

  The symbol from my tormentor.

  The symbol from the mine.

  The symbol of my past.