Depressed by the inevitability of his situation, he started gathering his supplies. From the beginning, Nikola had never been talented in portrait drawing. His forte lay elsewhere, in landscape painting. Since those kinds of works couldnt be sold to the common folk, he forced himself to practice portrait drawing.
How long can I keep doing this
He asked himself so, and a reply always ca without fail.
If his works didnt sell, he would die. He had no eye for business and his body was weak, and he was clumsy with everything except with his hands, so he had no choice but to continue making a living on the streets. He was forced to put on a composed look and sell portraits to wide-eyed hicks while under the naive illusion that soday, sobody would recognise his talents. He was unable to give up on that faint hope. Therefore, he drank away his fears and misgivings. Cheap alcohol fuelling his drunken stupor, he escaped his cruel reality of shattered dreams.
Thusly, he once again walked to his usual bar.
The bar in question was on the corner of the market street. It didnt have expensive or even good-quality liquor, but it was affordable for him. Above all else, the barmaid was cheerful. It was the best place to be.
Welco...Ah, Mister Nikola.
Opening the swinging door, he entered the bar. The aforentioned barmaid was full of courtesy, and greeted him warmly. She was a splendid person that never showed any aversion to custors like him who looked like a pauper. He returned it with an awkward smile.
Ah, Chloe. The usual, if you please.
Sure thing. An ale and salted gut, then?
On the bars nu there was a noticeably cheap assortnt of food and drink. Although what he had ordered was usually eaten by Sankt Gallenian boors, with his ager earnings he had no other choice.
Taking a seat at the bar, he quickly glanced around the room.
It was awfully empty. It was early in the night, and the bar was by no ans popular, but even so it was far too empty. Besides Nikola, the only other custors were a poor bachelor and an old man who practically reeked of the countryside. It should be the ti when shop apprentices or day laborers would co in to drink the night away, but even as he slowly ate and drank his way through his al, no one else entered the bar.
Mister Nikola, did sothing happen today?
The barmaid, Chloe, asked with a lowered voice. She too probably wanted to know why there were considerably fewer custors today.
Unfortunately, Nikola also had no idea.
Hmm To be honest, Im also at a loss. I dont think anything out of the ordinary happened, though.
Yes, it had been an entirely uneventful, normal day.
There werent any festivals that day, and there hadnt been a forced city-wide mourning either. It had been quite an ordinary day.
Those fellows over there, did they hear anything today?
Even though Nikola had been drinking himself stupid and would always order the cheap stuff, it was not like he spent year after year at the sa bar. In the last few days, he had only been able to afford thin porridge and near-expired vegetables. Chloe herself might have a better idea of why the lack of custors.
Chloe pondered with a brooding expression.
Well...maybe...I cant say with confidence, but
After a brief pause, she began to talk about a strange tale she had heard from the two n.
Recently, so activists in Broussonne had been making a na for themselves. Nikola had seen them many tis as well. On every corner, it seed, they had been loudly protesting the high tax rates and mismanagent by the nobles, as well as demanding social reform to elevate the social standing of commoners. In other words, a grassroots movent.
Usually, the guards cracked down on these protestors, carting them off to the jails for special treatnt. Of course, they did not go as far as to sell them as slaves. They did not go as far as to use violence or start an uprising. Instead, they were locked away for a few days to let their heads cool off, then released with a warning.
Even so, when caught, the activists were usually badly beaten by the guards. In addition, they would be held in cold cells, with little to eat. Although Nikola thought they would have learned their lesson quickly, they never seed to quit.
We will not succumb to violence! Certainly, we will be beaten and held captive. However, ours is the spirit of liberty! Until our labors co to fruition, we will never bow!
After being released from jail, the activists yelled as such at the curious onlookers.
Since then, the movent had been growing increasingly radicalized. Rumor had it that last month they had marched in a great column to the nobles district, accusing them of all sorts of depracities and injustices.
In addition, just a few days ago, the protesters finally showed themselves in the bar.
Hear , fellow laborers!
An unshaven, bloodshot man with an unhealthy pallor had slamd the bar-door open and started proclaiming his agenda.
It had been at around the sa ti as Nikolas entrance. Laborers had just finished their jobs for the day, and had been relaxing with drinks in hand. If his aim had been to target the workers, it was the perfect ti.
The day of the breaking of our chains is near! The day we free ourselves from the yoke of these so-called aristocrats is soon to co! The day of wrath and reckoning is here! Take up your pickaxes and hoes, and rise against the tyrants!
The activist continued on, preaching even more extre views. In a way, it was the manifesto of a revolt.
Of course, to Nikola, who was born in a fairly large city and moved the royal capital, such an event was unimaginable.
According to Chloe, the faces of the other patrons were at first still subdued. That was to be expected. Even if drunk, sothing as wild as that would take a while to register. Group drinking was supposed to be relaxing, and never a mob in the making.
However,
I agree. Thats it, thats the way!
One easily-swayed patron stood and nodded their approval to the activist.
The person wore a hood and their appearance could not be easily made out, but from their voice it was clear it had been a woman.
No true laborer should disagree! This is our path, and we must follow without hesitation!
All the while, the other custors looked on, dumbfounded.
Faced with such force and intensity, so stood up slowly, joining in.
Ah, youre right
After all, its the nobilitys fault were poor
Without them wed really be free?
The activist, seemingly emboldened by their assent, spoke louder and louder to the oddly dull drunks wandering about.
Thats exactly it! In ancient tis, every man, woman, and child was equal in the eyes of liberty! But now, we are far from that ideal Why?! Because our rights were stolen by the thieves we call the aristocracy!
Stolen? Damn it, Ill never forgive them!
Exactly! Never let go of that rage! Until today, you were all just sheep following the shepherd's crook! However, now you have gone wild! Resist our overlords, break the fences, and rise up!
O, OHHHHH!!!
From then on, it had only been a chorus of anger. A wild dley unworthy of the term revolution.
Patrons and protesters alike took to the streets that night, drunk on sothing other than cheap spirits.
Well, it was sothing like that.
Hah, that seems like quite the tale
Nikola laughed it off as he drained his tankard. It was crazy, outrageous, and unlikely even in his wildest dreams. In truth, the story simply didnt feel real to him. He couldnt say it was impossible, however.
Speaking of which, it seems like a few of the other regulars that went out that night have stopped coming to the bar...I wonder what theyre doing now.
I imagine they were dragged off to cells. Give them two, three more days for their liquor to wear off and they will be back for more.
You dont believe at all, do you, Mister Nikola? It really happened, Im telling you!
Said Chloe, pouting with a huff. Faced with such a cute sight, Nikola unintentionally began to smile.
Now, now, settle down, Chloe Co on, cheer up.
Im fine! Its all your fault, anie! That said, maybe Id forgive you if you bought another drink?
Hahaha, you really do have a head for business.
Nikola eyed his wallet, cold sweat on his palms and a tipsy flush in his cheeks. Did he really have enough for another drink?
The street artist drunk on mild happiness was pouring his heart and coin out to the barmaid.
He wanted to escape the hell of day-to-day life, but he couldnt help but want to experience this bliss forever.
All the while mocking himself, Nikola continued to down mug after mug.
Until his fate took a turn for the better, until then he would keep going.
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