The story takes place after the end of season 2

Prologue

Evrog's tavern was deep in Mewnie's forests. It was far from the mewmans' eyes, while close enough to the main road, where monsters could find it easily. And tonight it was so easy to find, that there was barely any place left to sit.

The atmosphere inside was lively and filled with chatter. To Evrog, this was more than just a business. To all his customers he was offering something they needed – a place to just sit, have a drink, and meet with friends after a long day. Sometime a few monsters will decide that here was the place to settle some scores with fists or claws, or teeth, or tentacles. Not that the others would just sit and allow a mass fight to happen inside. There was always volunteers to throw the troublemakers outside until they cool off. This was their second home, and Evrog's only.

His wife Ircia came back with three new orders and some empty mugs. Evrog replaced them with filled ones. Irica smiled at him, and took off with the beverages. The door opened and a pair of two-headed monsters occupied the last free table. He checked on Ircia, she was busy with bringing drinks to other customers. This time Evrog went to take the new arrivals' order. As he made his way to the bar, laughter came from Ircia's direction. Followed by cheers, which blended with the rest of the mass chatter.

For Evrog, this was the definition of a friendly atmosphere, and it was making his job a bit easier. That and Ircia's six hands.

Another cycle of door opening. A lone creature entered and sat on the bar. His serpent face was unfamiliar to Evrog. For the past year newcomers in his tavern was a rare sight. Didn't matter though, every monster deserved at least a drink.

- What would it be, stranger? - Evrog approached him with a smile.

- I'm not from around here. What does the others prefer to drink? - the stranger smiled back at him with some genuineness.

- Well, west mewnian swamp water is pretty popular. And not too steep.

- Then that's what I'll have as well.

Evrog poured what remained from the bottle and passed it to his new customer. He replaced the empty container with a new one from under the bar, and made a mental note to check how much swamp water was left. The stranger took a sip and looked around. On his light green face he had two purple rings around the eyes. No hair, only a thick purple line with sharp edges, starting back from the nape and ending on his forehead.

- Your business seems to be going well - the serpent sipped and faced Evrog. - Is it always this full?

- Every now and then - he grabbed a wet mug and started polishing it with a piece of cloth. - For the monsters some days are tougher than others. Here they get to relax and enjoy friendly company.

- Is life around here that hard? - another sip.

- It's not easy, I'll tell you that. Food is difficult to come by. Some even leave the forest and try to steal from the local mewman village. Others leave Mewnie to look for a better life elsewhere.

- Is that so?

- Unfortunately - the mug was as good as new. Evrog put it with the rest. - Say, isn't life for monsters just as hard as from where you're coming?

- From where I am coming? - the serpent had stopped with mug raised close to his mouth. - No matter where you're on Mewnie, if you're a monster, you better be prepared for a tough time - with a quick and deep sip, he emptied the mug. - But thing are about to change around here.

Evrog felt that the serpent was brewing troubles. Instead of acting on his feeling, he formed a delicate version of "what are you talking about" for his customer. But the stranger did a swift turn to face the rest of the tavern, instantly shutting off Evrog's attempt. A much louder voice filled the place. The green monster asked:

- Fellow monsters, may I have your attention for a moment?

Silence. Everybody's gaze was focused on him. Even Ircia was frozen and waited to see what the stranger had to say.

- We all had a rough day. Why else would we be here trying to forget it? As the day before it. And tomorrow won't be much different either. That is the life of a monster on Mewnie.

Nods, cheers, and voices of agreement came from every table. Evrog narrowed his eyes, trying to guess where this was going. The serpent continued:

- We all remember stories of a time when only monsters dwelt on Mewnie. Of how our ancestors were free to roam around the world and have all the corn they could grow - he spread his hands. - Doesn't that sound great to you all?

The cheers were much louder than before. One red monster with a horn on his head slammed his mug on the table, and broke it into uneven-sized pieces. Evrog stared at him with a raw anger and the creature hid himself behind another monster's back. Now was not the time to put up with morons.

The stranger raised his hand to stop the uproar. Everybody calmed down and he continued:

- I sure would like to have such life one day. It's a dream we all have in our hearts, don't we? But for this dream to become reality, we either have to leave Mewnie, or – he paused to give his words extra impact – take it back from the mewmans.

This time there were no cheers. Everyone, even Evrog, were stunned from the serpent's ideas. His customers started arguing between each other.

A war between monsters and mewmans was not something new. A dozen conflicts were told in the form of stories, books, and songs. Some had noble causes such as liberation. Some were quite exaggerated from both sides of the conflict. But one thing was the same and no battle ever changed it - mewmans stayed in their villages and castles, monsters came back to the forests and swamps.

Suddenly a small worm-like creature crawled close to the bar, looking at the stranger. The uproar had disappeared. Now attention was focused on the short monster. He started:

- We also remember that no monster could get into the mewmans' castle, let alone make them leave our world. Are you suggesting we go and get our butts kicked again?

- Mewmans are indeed a formidable enemy - the serpent agreed. - Their main strength is the magical weapons and armor they wear - his right hand formed a fist. - In every battle magic was the key to their victory. It is a power like no other - a faint green glow was coming from the fist. - But now...

The stranger's palm opened, releasing what he was holding. An emerald green flash of light filled the tavern, giving it a menacing hue. Then, it was gone. It took a few seconds for the green afterimage to fade from Evrog's vision. With a blazing speed his eyes scanned the room for any damage or hurt creatures. Nothing had changed. Except for the stranger.

He was holding a dark green sword, with jade-colored flames emitting from the blade itself.

- Now we have the same power - the serpent stated. Flames were casting dark shadows on his face, giving him a look of a different kind of monster. A kind that Evrog would never had let in his tavern.

The rest of the monsters were all silent, focused at the object conjured out of thin air with magic. Green flames danced in their eyes.

Evrog couldn't decide if those were coming from the sword itself, of from the burning castle Butterfly.

XXX

The stranger was gone. After he left Evrog's tavern, the rest of the evening was quieter than usual. There was no cheers and tables full with drinks, only whispers and lonely half-emptied mugs. For some reason the tavern reminded Evrog of a fireplace, cooling after its fire had just died.

The last group of customers wished him well and left. He locked the door, cleaned up the last used table and turned off the light. With the tavern put to sleep, it was time for its owner to do the same for himself. For an evening with such calm ending, Evrog was surprised of how tired he was. To reach his bed he had to take the stairway all the way to the second floor, and this realization made him even more tired.

While climbing the stairs, Evrog was met with an uncovered window and the nighttime scenery behind it. He stopped next to the window to have a peek at the midnight sky. Its typical cloudy curtain was missing to reveal a sea of shimmering lights.

A shooting star was passing by, burning in the atmosphere.