One More Mug: Ink and Dust

“Do you think they’ll let me send you something… risqué? Kind of letter?”

The broad man chuckled as his partner, only reaching his chest, jabbed an elbow into his stomach hard enough to shake the stool beneath them and nearly spill his drink on the tavern floor.

“I’ll let everyone read it if you do.”

The librarian smirked confidently while the man laughed despite the slight worry creeping into his face.

“Hey, take it easy, I was joking!” He laughed again before looking at her more softly. “But will you be okay while I’m away?”

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” She raised her drink slightly. “It’s me that should be asking you that. Can you handle being away?”

“I might.” He stood from the stool. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

They left the tavern lobby and headed toward a quieter hallway. A small bell rang softly above the door as he pushed it open, revealing a narrow room filled with letters, papers, quills, and shelves lined with old envelopes.

“I asked the owner if we could send each other letters here,” he explained. “Since I’ll only be in the next kingdom, it should only take a few days for them to arrive.”

She looked around the room, amused.

“So you really are planning to send that kind of letter?”

He playfully chopped her forehead.

“Ow! I’ll report you so you can’t leave!”

She pretended to be hurt as she giggled.

“But I will say… I’m impressed with what you did here.”

The librarian stepped closer before resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the room slowly fell silent around them.

“I’ll be back, I promise. Just a month or two, then maybe I can ask if—”

Before he could finish, she pinched his mouth closed, silencing him.

“Easy there, crazy. We are not a couple.” She smiled softly.

“Can you blame me?” he challenged quietly.

Their laughter faded as they looked at each other in the cramped little space.

“Get a room, you two!! That’s for mail!” a grumpy patron shouted from the lobby.

The two quickly pulled apart.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed awkwardly before glancing back at her.

“It’s fine.” She straightened her posture slightly. “I guess it’s time to call it a night.”

She turned toward the doorway before pausing.

“I still have to wake up early tomorrow. Libraries don’t open themselves, you know.”

She waved cheerfully before walking away.

“I’ll write you when I can!” he called after her. “But just to be sure, send me a letter too!”

As the night ended with him exiting the tavern after paying, morning arrived in silence.

The tavern door slammed open, revealing the broad man who woke up just outside the tavern, covered in dust and confusion.

Inside, chairs swayed gently on their own, mugs shifted slightly across tables, and hanging signs rocked without wind.

Yet the moment he touched them, everything stopped.

“Hello!? Anyone!? Did I miss the cart to the West?! What’s happening?!”

He looked around the tavern in panic as objects drifted and moved on their own around him, all covered in dust despite appearing as though invisible hands still used them, while others remained completely still.

“Where am I?! I know this is the tavern, but where is everyone?!”

His breathing shortened. He searched every room for signs of life, throwing chairs aside and knocking tables over as hysteria overtook him.

“I was just, wait wait, last night I was walking home from here, and… ugh, I can’t remember!!

As he lashed out in frustration, he suddenly slipped and scraped his arm against a loose nail jutting from the wall.

“Nghh!! Stupid, stupid na—!”

As he complains, wiping the wound to prevent bleeding, he froze.

Dust and sand slowly spilled continuously from the wound instead.

The anger drained from his face almost instantly.

“I am…” His voice trembled slightly.

“I am not home.”

He calmed himself slightly before dusting off his clothes and covering the wound on his arm.

“This can’t be real… can it?”

The man slowly stepped behind the tavern counter and searched through the kitchen for something to drink. Eventually, he returned with a bottle and collapsed onto one of the stools.

“No… ugh…”

He covered his face in desperation.

“She’s going to kill me for not sending.” He let out a weak laugh. “What am I supposed to do?”

The bottle emptied faster than he realized.

Then another.

And another, letting hours pass by.

Somewhere in the tavern, a small bell suddenly rang.

His head immediately lifted.

“The mail room.”

He shambles toward the sound before slowly pushing the door open.

Inside, a quill moved on its own across a piece of paper as someone was writing.

Afraid that even speaking might interrupt whatever connection existed, he quietly sat down across from it and watched each letter slowly form one after another.

Then he recognized the next handwriting.

Hey dummy, just making sure you don’t forget me.

You’d better send me a letter soon, or I’ll ban you from coming anywhere near me and my library!

He lowered his bottle and chuckled, knowing who it was for and from, tempted to touch it, he stopped himself and took a different quill and paper to write his short reply

I could, if I wanted to, my dear, and who is gonna fix things there if I get banned, then?

“Sigh, the things I actually wanna tell you… I also miss the bathroom, the one here sucks, heh.”

The smile on his face slowly faded, and he placed his letter near the letter that kept writing.

He explored the tavern for food and essentials. Slowly, he tried to get comfortable by making a makeshift bed from the tables.

“Hey, uh… would you want to…” he uttered and talked to himself as he lay down looking at the ceiling, imagining a reunion between them. “No… she told me we ain’t a couple.”

“Maybe one day…”

He turned to keep the mail room in view before closing his eyes

“Good night.”

Days passed, and he slowly fixed the tavern up, at the cost of stopping some items from moving, but he did remove the dust, repaired the creaky drawers, and wiped away the spilled drinks.

Yet he never touched the mail room, and he will never touch anything there, or any rooms near it. He brings out his own letters, papers, and his own quill in the main lobby, leaving the quill that writes letters, the bell that rings for a sender, and a paper that sends itself autonomously for him to wait for her.

The bell rang.

“Oh! It’s her!”

He gathered his snacks, which he had prepared early, and snuck inside the mail room with a chair he set for himself

It’s really been a while. I hope you are fine.

I’m kidding about banning you if that’s what you’re angry about, but please send me at least something! I even told you about the drama at the bakery last time!!

Update on that, too: the baker and his wife left each other because the wife kept interrupting his work. Honestly, I would be angry too if my partner kept interrupting my career!

I’ll update you more soon, but it wouldn’t hurt if you sent something at least!

I’m beginning to hope you keep your word about sending that “risqué” letter you mentioned before leaving.

I might even send something in return if you do.

The man’s eyes widened.

A mouthful of drink immediately sprayed across the floor.

He slowly stood up before disappearing into the tavern storage room.

Moments later, he returned carrying the strongest drink he could find before violently slamming the mug onto the counter.

“I AM IN HELL, STARING AT HEAVEN!! THIS IS UNJUST!!”

He slammed his forehead against the tavern counter before taking another miserable drink.

“UNJUST, I SAY!!”

Eventually, the man simply remained there, half-weeping into the counter while clutching the mug tightly in both hands before eventually passing out.

Morning woke him through the violent ringing of the mail room bell, as though someone on the other side had shaken it repeatedly.

And still was.

“I am up, I am up!!” He groaned before clutching his head. “...Ow.”

A splitting headache pounded through him as he stumbled toward the mail room.

The moment he opened the door, he was shocked that more than one quill was writing.

Papers flew constantly through the room while letters continuously folded themselves and vanished one after another.

Panic.

The entire room felt consumed by it.

Carefully avoiding every moving object to keep from interrupting them, he slowly walked deeper inside while bits of unfinished messages passed before his eyes.

“Where are you?”

“Come back.”

“Don’t go.”

“Win this.”

Then talked to himself, uneasy in his stomach.

“…What’s happening over there?” he muttered quietly. “I hope she’s safe.”

Then he saw the familiar handwriting again.

Slowly, he read the letter aloud.

The city has been restless lately. More carts keep heading West every morning. They say even carpenters are being sent now to repair tents and armor for the knights.

I suppose that means you too.

Please come back safe.

His expression tightened.

“The knights were only supposed to go on an expedition…”

He returned to the lobby and added another letter to the growing pile.

“She is definitely worried.”

Unable to do anything else, he simply continued on.

Bells rang throughout the day from the mail room, though every now and then, he still checked quietly to see if another letter had arrived for him.

Slowly, he was nearly done cleaning the entire tavern lobby.

Chairs were repaired and tables straightened, though he intentionally left alone the ones that still moved on their own.

Crates of food occasionally arrived and were stored by themselves as well.

“This place could keep me alive for years…” he muttered quietly while preparing dinner. “I could even learn new dishes.”

His eyes slowly drifted toward the now quiet mail room.

“…But I think I would rather risk being out there with the knights just for a chance.”

He continued cooking afterward.

Eventually, the table was set.

And once again, he sat alone in a lively yet empty room to eat his dinner.

“If fate lets me… maybe I can show you some desserts someday.” A faint laugh escaped him. “If only…”

A quiet weight settled in his chest afterward, though he continued preparing his bed for the night anyway.

Before finally closing his eyes, he quietly wondered:

“How many weeks has it been…?”

He turned slightly to keep the mail room within view.

“Good night… my dear.”

Morning came once again, though he no longer knew how many days had passed.

The bells still rang frequently throughout the day, so he eventually moved his makeshift bed closer to the mail room.

After breakfast, he spent the morning cleaning one of the tavern's bathrooms.

“Seriously,” he muttered while scrubbing a stain from the floor. “The moment I get out of this world, I am having a word with the keeper.”

A splash of dirty water hit his hand.

“UGHHH!!”

Moments later, he was aggressively washing both hands in the kitchen.

“Disgusting. Are customers animals?”

Then another bell rang.

He immediately abandoned the sink and hurried toward the mail room.

“Not her.”

He stared for a moment longer anyway.

“...Maybe she's busy today.”

Disappointed, he turned away, then looked back once more before returning to work.

He worked silently while the things around him that hadn’t been touched moved on their own, and eventually, night came.

The carpenter exited the kitchen with his dinner and set it by the counter, but as he was about to take a seat, the bell rang, making him stand up to check if it was her.

“Still none…”

He walked back to the dinner table, ate, and cleaned up after himself. He still keeps checking every time the bell rings, but as the night grew, he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, waiting for another ring.

Ring.

“Just… one more to make sure.”

He stood up, but as he stood by the doorway, he silently lowered his head and turned back to his bed, facing away from the mail room as he fell asleep.

A few more days and nights became the same, where he still checks, but each time it wasn’t her, a bit of him faded.

He went to his paper and quill and wrote letters to her, asking if she is fine, hoping she is safe, and wondering what happened as he is worried, placing each letter he made by the stack, including the days she hasn’t written one.

Each day continued with his own letters and his task with the bathroom.

Eventually, he finished cleaning and fixing the bathroom, but he feels unfulfilled as he submerges himself in the tub to clean himself.

Ring

“Sigh…”

The carpenter climbed out of the tub and walked toward the mail room.

“Huh?”

Finally, he read someone familiar.

Hey there, big guy. I know I stopped sending letters for a few days.

I caught a cold, but don't worry, I am feeling much better now.

The tavernkeeper checked on me and even brought me soup while I was recovering.

He is quite nice, honestly. He reminds me of you a little.

Also, stop overthinking, I know you

He chuckled softly.

For the first time in days, breathing felt easy.

As sleep finally took him, he muttered:

“Thank you for taking care of her…”

Morning came, but as he slowly opened his eyes, it snapped open the moment it rang, and weirdly, it was her, early in the morning, so he went to the chair he had in the mail room to watch the letter unfold

I've been thinking, you never sent a letter since the day you left, and the tavernkeeper confirmed to me last that the cart you were on… didn’t make it.

“What is she talking about? What did he tell her?!” he questions in a bit of panic

He stood up and got closer, accidentally bumping some things that stopped them from moving and just falling to the ground, focused on the letter.

I don’t want to believe it, but what can I do… If you are reading this and I know you can, please, send me one letter, and tell me you are ok, tell-

In desperation, he held the quill trying to correct her, but he shortly realized what he had done

“I am here!! I'm still alive!! Please!!”

He dashes, knocking the things he fixed, items that are moving, holding a clutter of letters he wrote, shoving them all in the bin, but all he can see leaving are the letters he didn’t write.

“I am still…” Then sees the quill that stopped writing, ending on her words, asking to be ok

“…here”

…

He slumps down by the table, broken, and skipped meals, staring at the mail room, hoping the quill to move again…

As a mug fell down by itself, he snapped out and took a paper and a quill to write one last letter for her.

It's been weeks since I've seen your letters. I hope you're safe.

The food doesn't taste great, nor do the drinks, might be a new supplier

I found a secret room by the kitchen. If we ever meet again, let's spook the tavernkeeper.

I keep putting these letters in the same place, just collecting dust

But maybe that's enough.

…

I'm sorry.

He looks at the letter he made and places it on top, putting the quill away, and finally goes to clean the mail room and the rooms around it.

He stopped counting the days that passed since, and found a guest room across the mail room, with a messy bed, a book, and letters for someone, but all he could think of was just to lie down for the first time in months, in a bed

No words or sighs, just silence as he lay down and closed his eyes, thinking of nothing anymore.

Morning finally came, but knowing nothing was going to happen, he just continued to sleep, until…

“YOU BASTARD, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

He was woken up by a familiar yell, then a book hit him in the face, knocking him awake as he landed on the floor.

“Huh?” Confused, he looks around and sees her.

“WHAT YOU MEAN HUH?! You disappeared for months and have the audacity to just show up?!”

He sees her angry but crying as he tries to block her attacks

“Don’t you dare cover your face!! Show it to me and say you are sorry!!”

She stopped attacking, waiting for him to stand up

“Not a single letter!, I thought you were—"

Her voice broke.

"I thought you were dead."

“I've been waiting in this damn room for a letter!!”

Finally, the carpenter spoke as he went closer to the librarian

"You kept staying here?"

"Since you left."

...

He stepped through the doorway.

The librarian's eyes widened when he vanished.

A moment later, he returned carrying stacks of letters.

Hundreds of them.

He set them gently on the table.

"These are yours."

She stared at the stack.

"I got your letters. In a way."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, without a word, she stepped closer.

He thought she was about to hug him, opening his arms.

Instead, she jabbed him hard in the stomach.

"Ow."

A smile finally broke across his face.

"You missed me, didn't you?"

She jabbed him again.

"Don’t you do that again."