The Jackal’s Song
Chapter 9: Setbacks

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The next week passed uneventfully. Senu continued to perform and earned some additional money by doing odd jobs. As a jackal, he got more negative attention called to him than he would have liked. But, there were still plenty of merchants willing to pay a few coins who needed help hauling crates and other materials.

Whenever he wasn’t working or performing in the evenings, he was practicing—magic, music, and martial prowess. He didn’t notice any measurable improvement, but he did feel more confident in his abilities. Perhaps that was why he finally decided to travel to Southbank—the section of the city on the southern side of the river—to visit the local bard’s college, Harmonious Accord.

The college grounds were grand in a way that Senu didn’t expect. Ancient stone buildings with ivy creeping up their walls, the sounds of students practicing their instruments drifting through the air, and the scent of blooming flowers from well-tended gardens. Senu took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as he approached the reception desk.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but none of the faculty can meet with you today,” the Grandi feline at the reception desk explained after he introduced himself to her.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you sure?”

She barely glanced up. “It’s a matter of policy. Prospective applicants need to go through a proper application before school resources can be used. As you can imagine, there’s a lot of demand on the masters’ time. I can give you an application packet if you’d like, but submitting it requires a fee of 150 gold pieces.” Her tone made it clear she believed such a sum to be entirely out of reach for him. He supposed his commoner’s clothing—dirty from the long walk—wasn’t doing him any favors, though he was used to people assuming he was some kind of nobility due to his species.

“Is there some sort of installment plan? I perform at the Royal Stag several nights a week. I’m sure I can get the money.”

She seemed bored as she continued. “Are you aware that the annual tuition for a new student is 4,000 gold pieces?”

He tried to hide his shock, but she could see it in his eyes.

“Right. You see, most of the students are sponsored by wealthy families or patrons. The merchant’s council isn’t willing to support us with public funds, so the fees are quite high to cover our expenses. If you need lessons in a particular skill, several of our advanced students are available for private lessons for more modest fees.”

“How much is ‘modest’?”

“It depends on the student. A few gold per hour.”

He nodded. That might be doable once or twice a week, but it was a poor substitute for structured education.

“I see. Well, thank you for your time. I suppose I’ll have to rethink my plans.”

“My apologies,” she said with a complete lack of sincerity.

“Yes, of course. Have a nice day.”

“You too, Mr...”

“Ren. My name is Senu Ren.”

She nodded, making a note on a clipboard. “Very well, Mr. Ren. I will at least let the headmaster know you stopped by.”

Senu walked away, tail down. The vibrant sounds of students practicing now felt like a mockery
of his own efforts. He had hoped for a chance, a glimmer of opportunity, but instead, he found yet another obstacle.

***

Things did not improve when he returned to the Royal Stag. He stood in the common room as a large human man glared up at him, somehow making him feel like he was the smaller of the two.

“I don’t understand,” Senu said, his voice threatening to break. “What did I do wrong?”

Andrus was in the middle of a performance, dancing even more gracefully than usual as another performer provided drum music. The dragon couldn’t have looked more smug if he’d been trying.

“Let me be more clear,” the human said. “You are fired. Get out.”

An unexpected anger welled up within Senu, and he had to fight back the surge of magic that threatened to erupt in response. “I’ve performed for you for almost nothing for months, and now you’re kicking me out?”

“Are you buying drinks?”

“What? No, I just--”

“Then yes. If I see you in here again as anything other than a paying customer, I’ll send for the guard. I thought having a jackal here would be a draw like Andrus has been. But, to be blunt, you aren’t up to the Royal Stag’s standards.”

“And Andrus is?”

“Mr. Vos is a superior musician, a master of story, dance, and instrument. Not to mention his stage presence. Beasts and brethren alike are drawn to him. More importantly, they spend gold when he’s on stage. On the other hand, your performances are passable at best and damn near terrible some nights. I gave you plenty of time to get better. But my patience has run out. I’m bringing on someone else.”

“I…” He wanted to argue. He wanted to say something witty at Andrus’s expense. Mostly, he just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere so he could hide from the stares and snickers of the patrons and other performers, some of whom he thought were his friends.

Andrus had warned him. He’d sensed something was wrong for days. Had this been the dragon’s doing? Why had he become so hostile? They’d never liked each other, but the open hatred was new.

“Leave, jackal. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Without another word, he gathered the few things he’d been keeping here, then walked towards the entrance. The murmur of the crowd and the clinking of glasses seemed to mock his departure. He didn’t want to show how much this was hurting him, so he fought back the tears of frustration and held his ears rigidly upright as he walked out. When the cool evening air hit him, he barely resisted the urge to run.

He only allowed himself to cry after he’d made it back to his apartment and fallen into bed.

“What is wrong with me?” he asked the darkness, his voice barely a whisper. “What am I doing here?”

It was a good question. What had he thought was going to happen? Had he really expected to be given free tuition and a place at the college? Back home, money had never been a concern. When he’d come here, he realized now that some part of him expected special treatment. But it was clear that he couldn’t expect his species to do him any favors. If anything, his status as an outsider made it even harder.

As emotional exhaustion took over, his thoughts blurred, and he drifted into a restless sleep.

In his dreams, he found himself back in Feyspring. The familiar sights and sounds of his childhood home surrounded him. He sat on a platform near his house, offering a clear view of the city. Beside him was Hake—the real Hake—who looked at him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Do you ever wish you were someone else?” Senu asked the older jackal.

“Like who?”

“I don’t know, someone more common. A fox, maybe.”

“Not really,” Hake admitted. “You do?”

Senu shrugged, pulling his legs up to his chest. “Sometimes. Everything I want feels so far out of reach. Maybe I should just accept reality and go back to Feyspring with you.”

Hake put an arm around his shoulder. “I’m still a few days from the gate, but I’d wait for you. Except I know that isn’t what you want.”

“It’s not.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I thought if I was patient, things would fall into place. But they seem to be getting worse, not better.”

Hake was silent for a while. Finally, he said, “You know what helps me when I’m feeling down?”

“Gambling?”

Hake chuckled softly. “Well, yes. But that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“What then?”

“Spending time with people I care about. Reminding myself that I’m not alone. There are people who want me to succeed.”

“So... back to Feyspring then?”

“Perhaps. But there are others you might try first. The wolf, maybe?”

“Terrance?”

“Right.”

“I don’t know. He seems so busy all the time.”

“It’s up to you, but you might give it a try.”

***

Terrance was all smiles when Senu showed up at his doorstep the next morning. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite field hand,” the wolf teased. His older kids were already out performing various chores in the large field, and Terrance himself seemed to be directing them in the manner of a general on a battlefield.

Senu had never considered how much work a farm required. There were always vegetables and fruits to plant and harvest, animals to feed and care for, and that didn’t even include the daily housework that Alessia did or the fact that Terrance was also the closest thing the small community had to a sheriff.

“Funny, Terrance.”

The wolf seemed pleased with himself, but his smile faltered as he looked the jackal over. “You look like you’ve been sleeping rough.”

“Sorry. I had a hard night.”

The wolf hesitated as he looked at him more closely, eyes finally meeting his for a moment before he gave a slight nod. “Ferro!” he called out, and a tall Vulpine teenager—Terrance’s oldest—ran up from the nearest row of crops.

“Hey, Senu. You need something, Dad?”

“Senu and I are going for a walk. Can you manage things until I get back?”

“Sure, no problem. Take your time.”

Terrance grabbed his longsword from a rack on the porch and took a moment to put on his padded longcoat.

“Expecting trouble?” Senu asked. He’d gotten into the habit of staying armed and armored when he traveled outside of Shimmer Bay, but since the Fortress, it had been somewhat pointless. As the balmy summer weather descended on them, he’d been considering traveling more lightly for the time being.

“No, but after what happened with Marco and the other kids, I’m being more cautious. Besides, if we’re going to be wandering around the village, we might as well make it a patrol.”

A few minutes later, they were walking down the main road towards the large square of grass that formed the center of the village. The air was filled with the sounds of birds and the distant hum of cicadas.

“So, what’s going on? You look worse than you did that night in the Fortress.”

Senu took a deep breath. “I... got fired.”

“Oh.” They walked another minute or so in silence before Terrance added, “Was it your fault?”

“I don’t know. Kind of.”

“I’ve heard that the guy who runs the Stag is a real piece of shit, but I never dealt with him personally.”

Senu shrugged. “Whether he is or not, I was depending on that job as my main source of income. I do some other work on the side, but most people are too intimidated to ask a jackal to do manual labor. Plus, I think they don’t like how much I stand out.”

“Yeah, I bet. You’re tall as fu... uh... a fencepost, and that black fur and gold makeup are kind of telling.”

“I can’t help who I am.”

“No, and you shouldn’t have to. But you can’t control how other people behave either. So... what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. You’re the only beast I’ve met since coming here who seems to actually like me. I was hoping you might have some advice. Or, barring that, know some way I can make enough money to pay for an application to the bard’s college.”

“That’s... a lot of gold.”

“150 for the application. 4000 for the year if I get in.”

“Do they let you keep your arms?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Terrance’s smile was a bit strained, and he shook his head. “Well, as it happens, I do have a friend in Shimmer Bay who could use a hand with some work. It should pay well, but it won’t be pleasant. Long hours. Hard work.”

“What kind of work?”

“It’s a warehouse, mostly. There are always a lot of boxes and crates to be moved and a few other heavy items that have to be hauled around. It’s not exactly hard work, but it’s boring as hell, and it’ll be physically exhausting. I tried to do it for a while to earn some extra gold -- I’ve been wanting to put in a new irrigation system -- but it was too much.”

Senu looked at him. “And this is your idea of a better job?”

Terrance grinned. “It’ll pay better than sitting at home or busking for spare pennies, and you’ll probably have time for other gigs if you can find them.”

“And the catch?”

“The fox that owns everything is a bit eccentric, and they tend to trade in questionable goods. Legal, as far as I know, but sometimes dangerous. The place is also in the northern slums. You’ll need to watch out for thieves and the like while you’re there, and you’ll probably want to stay armed and armored.”

“So it’s dangerous?”

“It can be. There’s usually no trouble in the day, but at night... well, you’ll get paid double, but there’s a reason.”

“How dangerous are we talking?”

“You should be fine, but keep your wits about you and try not to leave your stuff alone.”

“All right. Who do I need to talk to?”