The Poison Game

Drinking poison had turned out more entertaining than Vahn had imagined.

He sat a small table, tucked away in the tiny kitchen of the local blacksmith, holding
another cup of poison. Hemlock, or something of that nature. He wasn’t sure if the taste or the
effects were worse.

Beside him sat that very blacksmith, a hulk of a fellow with a temper to match his size.

Best if he used that rage at work rather than play.

All around them were townspeople, along with Vahn’s co-conspirator, Easton. His you
friend gave Vahn a concerned look, but Vahn ignored it. Instead, he gripped his cup with a
steady hand, waiting for the blacksmith to call for another round.

The blacksmith took a hard look at Vahn before raising his own cup. “Again,” he said.

Both he and Vahn raised their cups, eyeing each other to check if they backed down.

With cups to their lips, there was a final moment, a last chance, but neither would yield. Heads
were tipped and the poisons gulped down for the third time that night.

Vahn immediately set his own cup down and tried to breathe easy, but he couldn’t. His
breath grew ragged and his heart ached. His hands trembled and his eyes strained. He
clenched his jaw, waiting for his body to fight it.

It didn’t take long. The Valoa inside him began to act. His own life-force, his very life
itself, went to work to neutralize the poison. Within moments, his breathing evened out and all
the tension he felt melted away.

Even if his body had handled it, Vahn knew it came at a price, for no one had an
unlimited supply. Enough cups of poison would kill any man. And each drop would steal a bit of
precious life, bringing the end of a once full life ever closer to the present.

Vahn craned his neck over at the blacksmith. The beard man looked worn. Both the
blacksmith and Vahn had their pride on the line, along with their lives. Was one greater than the
other?

Silence held the room for the length of a long breath, ending when the blacksmith
pounded the table. Without a word, he stood, spun about, and marched away.

Vahn drew his lips into a grin. The game was over.