Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Four - Celebrating the Good Things​

Quest Completed!

Trim the Cruel!

The Core is saved!

I sighed. That was a good message to receive. “Thanks, Miss Menu,” I said as I dismissed the notification.

“Did you say something?” Amaryllis asked.

“Nope,” I replied. “Well, nothing important.”

She nodded, then gestured to the portal leading out of the dungeon. “Come on, then. The others will be waiting.”

I glanced around one last time, but it felt like everything we had to do was done. Another adventure ended, and on a happy note too. Sure, we were a bit banged up, but we’d get better in a day or three. “I could use something to eat,” I said as I followed Amaryllis.

“Ah, so now you’re thinking with your stomach? Brilliant.”

I laughed and pulled Amaryllis into a side-hug. “Come on!”

Exiting the dungeon was strange; the portal warped and bubbled, and it felt like diving into a pool of dry water. And then we were out in the open. Insmouth, the town, not the dungeon, was so much more humid than I remembered.

Awen and Bastion were just outside the mausoleum, both looking like they were waiting while taking in the big walls of fog that seemed to hover around the town and over the ocean. It was night now, with a sprinkling of stars shining bright enough to glow through the thin clouds above, and the moon hovering fat and heavy by the horizon.

“Awa,” Awen began. “Howard invited us to the inn. He said we could eat for free tonight.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of wine,” Amaryllis admitted.

“Aren’t you a bit young for that?” I asked as I started out ahead.

Amaryllis just gave me a look. “I’m at least a year older than you, and what does age have to do with when someone can have a cup of wine?”

“I guess there’s no age limit on that here, huh?” I asked. “Maybe I should try some?”

“No,” Awen and Amaryllis said in the same breath.

“Uh, okay,” I replied. Well, if they insisted.

We started heading into Insmouth, and despite the late hour, I found the town to be surprisingly lively. Lights were on, candles flickering behind windows, and people were out on the street, many of them in little groups that were walking towards the centre of town, laughing and chatting all the while.

We got some nice waves from some folk, and others seemed happy just to smile at us.

“This entire town is creepy,” Amaryllis said.

“They seem nice.”

The inn was a lot rowdier than I remembered, with tables packed and dozens of people sitting around outside, clinking big mugs together and plates overflowing with tasty-smelling food held up in one hand so that they could eat standing up.

“It’s them!” someone cheered.

Before I could find out who it was, what felt like the entire inn cheered. Younger fishpeople rushed out, laughing and screaming, and we were dragged in.

Howard was sitting on a big rocking chair next to the hearth, a big mug with frothing beer overflowing it in one hand. “Ah, here they are!” he said. “I was just telling everyone about our adventure.”

“Poorly!” someone called out.

There was more laughter, and I found myself joining in. If Howard was laughing too, then it wasn’t bullying or anything, I figured. “July! Get the kids something to eat! They deserve it!”

My friends and I were jostled around for a bit, but soon we were all at the bar where the innkeeper, July, was setting plates before us and mugs next to those.

Amaryllis sniffed at her beer, then leaned forwards. “Can I have some wine, if you have anything decent?”

“And juice for me!” I said.

I expected Awen to pipe up, but she took a sip of her ale and came back with a foamy mustache. “It’s a bit bitter,” she said. “But not too bad. I think I see why Uncle likes this so much.”

Bastion sat nearby and waved July off when she came offering food.

And then we dug in, though my meal was interrupted a bunch as I answered a whole lot of questions. People were pretty excited about our dungeon run, which was a little strange. Weren’t they pretty common?

In the end, I asked July.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Just about everyone who’s an adult’s gone through the dungeon. And every time, we make a big thing of it. It’s a way of celebrating for the whole town. Only folk already at level ten go in, so it’s usually the same day their class evolves.” She grinned. “It’s a big deal.”

“Oh!” That was so neat! We’d accidentally stumbled into a town-wide tradition.

“So it’s an excuse to have a party?” Amaryllis asked.

“It is!” July said. “A great time to have a few drinks and catch up. Everyone had their day, and for a lot of us it was really special. Plus today's extra-special. I heard that you fixed the old dungeon up?”

“Yup,” I said. “Got a quest prompt for it and everything. It should be nice and safe. But maybe you should find someone in town with Cleaning magic and get it up to Master Rank; it’s what I used to clean the Evil Roots away.”

“Cleaning, huh?” July asked. “I’ll let others know. Don’t think it’s that rare a skill, so maybe we’ll manage! Here, eat more, it’s all on the house for tonight!” She grabbed a bowl-full of some potato-salad and scooped some onto our plates.

I laughed and tucked in, then took a big gulp of some juice July served.

People wanted us to recount our story of our fight, and I was surprised when Amaryllis was the one to start telling the story. I think she added a lot of details that I wasn’t entirely sure were accurate, but with her sweeping wing gestures and confident squawking voice, everyone was hanging on her every word.

Awen had a small smile on as she polished off her second tankard of beer, then let out an unlady-like burp and giggled into a closed fist.

I was smiling so much my cheek muscles were getting a workout.

Soon I had to get up and move around. There was dancing to be done, with a bunch of fishmen having gotten little drums out and someone had a long-necked lute. A bunch of girls, most looking a couple of years older than me, were dancing off to one side with nervous looking boys.

I joined in for a spin or two. I didn’t know the steps, but I learned quickly, and I managed to pull Bastion in to act as my partner. He was stiff as can be, but he was still a great dancer.

When I started to feel a bit sweaty, I came back to July for water and found her serving pies, and I stuffed myself full while Amaryllis talked really loudly about politics to a few older fishfolk.

Awen was sipping on another tankard when I left, my tummy sloshing and over-full with pie, to go find the little ladies room.

That’s when I ran into Emmanuel.

The inn’s washrooms were in their own little building. Not an out-house, exactly, but not too far from that. They were in the back, out of anyone’s way. When I was done and leaving the lady’s side, hands wiggling in the air while Cleaning magic did its thing, I found Emmanuel standing in the shadows of the inn.

He was sitting on his haunches, head tilted back to eye the stars, and an empty mug of something by his feet. I hadn’t noticed him earlier, hidden as he was in the shade, away from all the partying and the laughter.

“Hey,” I said.

The cervid blinked, then looked down at me. “Oh. Hello.”

“Broccoli,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“It’s my name. Broccoli. I think I told you the first time we met, but you never really called me by my name, so I figured you just forgot it.”

“Ah,” he said. “I... yes, that’s likely, Miss... Broccoli. Like the vegetable?”

“It’s a flower, but also a vegetable,” I said. I was always quite proud of my name; it was a very special one.

He nodded. “Yes, I see,” he said. He looked at me for a bit more, then turned his head back again to eye the stars.

“You’re not a bad guy, you know,” I said.

Emmanuel glanced at me from the corner of his eye, just for a moment, but he didn’t respond.

“I’m kinda sad things didn’t work out with you and my friends, but still, you... you have potential, you have good intentions. I think that with just a bit more time, and by being a little more open, you could really become someone who’s a great friend.”

The cervid took a deep breath, then stood up. “Thank you, Broccoli,” he said. “I think I just need a little bit of time to myself.” His chest puffed out. “It will take more than a bit of sadness to keep Emmanuel Aldelain Von Chadsbourne down.”

I giggled, then hugged him. It was a bit weird. He was all furry, and his body wasn’t optimally shaped for hugs from someone smaller, but I did my best. “I hope you have the best adventures, Emmanuel, and I hope you make wonderful friends along the way. Everyone deserves to make their own family.”

He blinked a few times, and I had the impression his eyes were a bit on the watery side. “Thank you.”

I waved at him, then stared up at the stars myself for a little bit. I wondered if they were lonely, way up there, so far apart from all the others.

I pouted. I was making myself lonely just thinking about it. It was time to go and bother my friends!

It wasn’t hard to find everyone. Bastion was leaning against a post off to one side, arms partially crossed and a mug of something in one hand. He was eyeing the dance floor where...

I stared.

Awen was laughing and giggling, feet stomping in time with the beat of a drum. A drum that was sitting by her hip and that she was thumping herself, the other musicians cheering her on by adding some melody to her heartbeat-fast beat.

I found Amaryllis, sitting at the bar, a glass in her talons. “Is Awen...”

“Very drunk? Yes,” Amaryllis said.

“Oh, okay,” I replied. “Should we do anything about it?”

“Other than enjoy it? No, not yet. We can mock her in the morning when her head is splitting.”

“How much did she drink?” I asked. Though the rest of the party hadn’t reached its end, it certainly felt like it was at its peak. A few boys jumped onto the dance floor and tried to keep up with Awen’s frantic dancing, but she was surprisingly dextrous as she swayed around and kept time with her drums.

“Three tankards of beer,” Amaryllis said. “A small glass of some stronger spirits. And she stole a glass of my wine.”

“Is that a lot?”

“For a grown person, no, but for someone Awen’s size? Well, I think the results speak for themselves.”

Awen saw us, then gasped and stopped to give her drums to a wide-eyed boy before running over, hair all a flutter behind her, a big tangle of gold that splashed forward when she crashed into me with a big sloppy hug. “Broccoli!”

“Awen!” I cheered.

“Awa! I was dancing! Did you see? I think I did okay. I never did like dancing all that much, but the dancing they do here is so much nicer than the dancing back home. And when I asked one of the boys if I could play with his instruments he went all funny and ran away, so I took his drums. I never actually played the drum before. It’s a lot of fun! I don’t know why my mom insisted it’s a man’s instrument, it’s perfectly lady-like.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said. I eyed Amaryllis, and only got a knowing smile in return.

Right. Now to figure out how to get Awen to calm down, and maybe drink some water.

***