Suffering for Art

 




"My nose itches," Ritter said.

"Be still," the artist said, her charcoal-stained hand flying over the canvas. "Just a few more minutes."

Ace stood beside Ritter and used his Elvenari discipline to remain as still as a statue. It made Ritter's nose itch more.

"I'm thirsty," Ritter complained.

"Hold on," the artist said without looking up.

"You remind me of a sausage," Ace said, barely moving his lips. His sword was heroically crossed over Ritter's. The portrait was going to be amazing.

"Why?"

"Because you're a brat," Ace quipped.

"Yeah? Most people don't know how I struggled with a serious drinking problem."  Ritter's tone was suddenly serious.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ace said, immediately contrite. He even moved his head to look at Ritter, eliciting a loud sigh from the artist.

"It's better now. I brew my own so I have a reliable supply!"



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