Chapter 9

I Can’t. I Just Can’t.

“Are you alright, Hawkin?” Arnad said.

I cleared my throat.

“Yea-yea, of course,” I said.

“How do you feel?” Joul said. “Being visited by a god?”

“It has something to do with the ale. I don’t know what happened, but this is the best ale I’ve ever had. I had visions of a goddess, and summer, and fields of flowers, but it didn’t feel like I was visited by a god or goddess.”

“We saw a figure appear out of thin air,” Heldin said. “I know how gods appear like. You should too, if you’ve ever used a fable stone.”

“Yea, I’ve used a fable stone once before. Once, so I’ve only seen three gods.”

“Just a minute, Hawkin,” said Arnad. “You said it had something to do with the ale? You said you received a quest path?”

“The thing is, I don’t want a quest path. I left that life behind. I’ve been systemless since I disabled it ten years ago. I don’t want to go on adventures. I want to stay right where I am, where nobody knows where I am. I just want to live a simple life.”

“I understand,” Heldin said. “Don’t you feel that this might change things for you?”

“I don’t want it to.”

“Being visited by a god—or goddess, as you said—is an extraordinary circumstance.”

“Not when you use a fable stone,” I said.

“But you weren’t using a fable stone just then,” Heldin said.

For a moment we all paused to eat a few bites of squash and bread. I drank from my mug, and apart from being visited by a goddess, I went through every flavor and sensation once more.

“So you’ve never experienced anything like this before? Outside of using a fable stone?” Arnad said.

“Never,” I said.

“You’ve had ale before though?”

“Yea. I mean—nothing as magnificent as this. This is out of this world. I’m quite humbled that you would share your ale with me. Tell me, why is it so good? Why did this happen to me?”

“Your first question is easier to answer than your second question,” Arnad said. “The Sons of Ara brewed this ale. It’s our flagship ale. It’s made from summer barley, summer hops, and our house yeast.”

“I’ve never had anything like it before,” I said and drank some more.

Every sip felt like a waterfall of pure summer, showering my soul.

“Adventure doesn’t have to mean traveling and killing,” Heldin said. “Especially with something like brewing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said. “If I accept this quest path and use a fable stone, I’ll be prompted to travel from one corner of the world to another in search of ingredients, or mentors, or-or whatever else. I’ve done this before. I’m done with it.”

“That’s why you decline those prompts,” Heldin said. “Your quest paths won’t end simply because you don’t want to travel and fight. Every quest path adapts to your circumstances. You can choose that by only accepting quests you want to take on.”

The rest of our night was filled with banter. The ale was divine and melted like a gold light through me. The more I drank, the more curious I became. I wanted to know how it was brewed. I wanted to ask how barley, hops, and yeast came together to birth such a magical ale. The brothers were more than happy to teach me all they knew.

We talked long into the night, eventually dropping the topic of ale. I listened to the brothers talk of myths and legends they’d studied in their time with the Sons of Ara. I did my best to keep attentive, but my ale was so phenomenal that it was distracting.

I woke later the next morning to find the brothers gone from my cabin. I heard their voices and came outside to find they’d started a fire in the firepit. They had their stools set up and about, and a pot of liquid simmered over the fire.

“Hawkin!” Heldin said, waving. “Good morning. Come on over and have some soup and bread!”

I brushed off the snow from one of the large logs and made myself comfortable. The fire was a boon to my bones. A metal bowl was passed to me with a large spoon. A chunk of bread was then passed to me.

“Thank you, fellas,” I said. “Good soup.”

There were chunks of veggies, and the broth was spiced quite nicely.

“We wanted to thank you once more,” Heldin said. “We were able to grab our first good night of rest since leaving the Vale of Ara.”

“Don’t mention it. After that ale you shared with me, I wish there was more I could offer you.”

The brothers seemed pleased with themselves.

“Have you put more thought into going on that new quest path?” Arnad said. “You were visited by a god after all. That must mean something, right?”

“I have some thinking to do,” I said.

There’s just no way I can do it. It would severely complicate my life. I can’t. I just can’t accept the quest path. Even if I ignored prompts to travel and fight, I’m sure I wouldn’t be interested.

“We’re leaving after breakfast,” said Heldin.

“Would you like some food to take with you?” I said. “I’ve got fresh water if you’d like to take your fill. I’ve got dried herbs for teas and such. Anything you want.”

With a hand to his heart, Heldin said, “that’s awfully kind of you, Hawkin. The Sons of Ara thank you once more. We won’t take anymore of your time or food.”

We talked about the journey ahead of the brothers and I helped give them directions to take through the woods. There was a small road about two months away, at the speed at which they traveled. As long as they headed southeast, they’d run into it without problem. The path would lead them southward and curve back toward the cliffside city of Lunstad that overlooked the sea. From there, they had a firm grasp on the rest of their travels.

Morning came and went, and I escorted the brothers for a few hours through the forest. I could tell I was slowing them down, but they seemed to really enjoy our conversations.

“Well I hope you all run into some other hermit along the way and have better than a couple of blankets on the floor to sleep on,” I said.

“Absolute nonsense,” Heldin said. “We always tell the truth. That was our best night of sleep since our trip began.”

“On that note,” Arnad said, “We’re going to pick up the pace. May the light of Ara shine upon you when the days seem darkest.”

“Yea,” I said. “Cheers.”

They each gave me a wave before speeding off. Despite the 400 pound packs they carried, they easily sprinted through the forest. They were so fast, that within moments, I could not see them through the trees.

On my way back, I happened upon a copse of staghorn sumac. The red clusters of fruit were normally bright red in summer. Now they were a dull red, almost brown. I broke a few clusters off which stained my hands a slight yellow. Then I returned to my cabin.

I’d taken my time returning home. I listened to the slight wind. I caught moments of snow falling from branches and bushes. I saw the skittering of a squirrel and a chipmunk. A few birds chirped above. After an hour, those sounds stopped and I found myself ruminating over a decision I had to make.

Do I decline the quest path? Do I accept it and decline all the prompts for traveling? What if I could make beer as good as the ale the brothers shared with me? What if I could do all that and stay here in these woods?

I’d been so deep in thought that I slightly jumped when I came upon my cabin and saw Thrush standing there.

“You frightened me,” I said with a hand to my heart.

“Yes,” Thrush said. “Thank you for the meal you left me. I had no interest in spending time in the presence of those fat men. They did look juicy though.”

“Have you eaten humans before?” Thrush didn’t answer. He only smiled with a mouth full of fangs. “I don’t want to eat humans right now. I want to eat smoked fish.”

“Sounds fair to me. I’ll put some fish to smoke, then I’m going to chop some firewood. I’ll make us some sumac tea if you’d like. It tastes like lemonade.”