“Should I be doing anything?” asks Fresh, listening to the water rushing past her ears.

The voice of the fountain yawns loudly. The direction that the sound comes from is indistinct and she feels like it’s resounding in both of her ears at the same time, as if there were two voices talking to her from either side at once. “No, no. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” it says. “Don’t forget to scrub behind your ears.”

“Huh? What?” Fresh floats around, her shapeless gestalt drifting through the black-water and slowly turning upside down as she stares around herself. “But what are we doing?” asks Fresh, ignoring the odd comment. “Selling equipment? Why are you helping me with all of this? What do you want?”

She spins around in a circle, as if a whirlpool were forming beneath her, twisting her around and around in a spiral. “It’s a manager’s job to lead their employees,” explains the fountain, as she feels herself being pulled down into the deeper darkness, far below the surface of the water. “It’s an employee’s job to hush and to do what they’re told. Don’t forget to breathe.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh, as the voice grows distant and quiet, as she is swallowed into the deepest reaches of the black ocean.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” it repeats, somewhat annoyed.

Fresh opens her eyes, feeling an intense pain in her chest, which feels like it’s on fire. Her hand shoots out of the surface of the bath, grasping onto the stone edge of the basin, as she pulls her head out of the water, gasping for air and spitting out some bathwater at the same time. Her wet hair sticks to the front of her face.

Blinking a few times, she rests her head sideways on the edge of the bath and lets out a long, tired sigh. It’s about time to go to bed.

She gets out and dries off, before getting dressed. Fresh smiles an exhausted smile to herself, looking forward to rolling up inside of her heavy, blue-blanket and to finally getting some good sleep tonight.

She opens the washroom door and stops, wondering why it’s so bright in the basement? The fire is lit. Looking across the room, she sees Basil hunched over the work-table. Hearing her, the priestess looks up at her with an expression that Fresh can’t exactly decipher.

“Hey Basil,” yawns Fresh, covering her mouth. “You making something?”

“Me? I’m uh…” Basil scatters some stuff around the table with a swipe of her arm. “I’m just messing around with some ideas. For the shop,” says the priestess, covering her mouth and then yawning too a second later, having been infected.

Despite being exhausted, a wave of excitement comes to the girl upon hearing this. Fresh, clenching her fists quickly jogs down the stairs. “Really? Let me see!” she asks giddily, happy that Basil was working on something too for the store.

“Ah, no!” Basil lifts her hands, gesturing for her to stop. “Please don’t look,” she asks. “It’s not ready yet.”

Fresh frowns, but stops where she is. “Are you sure? Can I help you with anything?”

Basil shakes her head, her hands still in the air. “No, no. Thank you.” She turns to look over her shoulder back at the table. “Go to sleep, okay?”

Fresh starts puffing out her cheek, but then lets the air leave her mouth as she deflates and nods in acceptance, turning around to go back to the stairs. “Okaaay~” she says with a somewhat droll tone. “But let me know if I can help, alright? You can just wake me up!” says Fresh, looking back at Basil who still blocks her sight of the table.

“I will, thank you. Good night,” says Basil with a tired smile.

“Good night, Basil!” says Fresh, heading up the basement stairs. Basil doesn’t move from the spot.

Shrugging to herself, Fresh walks behind the counter and then heads up the next staircase. She looks over the empty aisles of the shop, as she rises up the second staircase, heading to the upstairs floor. Something catches her attention, something that stands out above the high shelves of the store. A giant, dark-cobalt metal helmet sticks out above the top row, in the back, in the corner in front of the snack shelf.

She does her best to hold her laugh in and quietly sneaks up to the sleeping area, making a mental note to make a few extra candies tomorrow morning. Fresh smiles, wondering what’s up with everyone tonight? It isn’t like them to miss a night’s sleep like this. Heading up the stairs, she wraps her arms around herself as she notices how drafty it is. The balcony is open, Jubilee sits outside, laid back on Shamrock’s giant chair with their hands folded behind their head and their legs kicked up and crossed.

“Hey Jubilee,” says Fresh, stepping out onto the balcony and holding herself. “You’re awake too?”

Jubilee turns their head to look at her, before leisurely staring back at the night sky. “Can’t sleep. Dunno.”

“Hmm?” Fresh looks around and grabs her blue blanket from the bed before heading back out onto the balcony, sitting down in the small chair and covering herself. “Everyone’s still up and being weird tonight,” remarks Fresh.

“Must be the moonlight,” says Jubilee. “It’s pretty bright tonight.”

“Huh?” Fresh looks up at the moon. It looks like a perfectly normal, crescent moon to her.

“You know how it is. The moon makes people weird,” says Jubilee.

“Does it?” asks Fresh, leaning back and staring at the sky curiously.

“Sure,” says Jubilee. “Humans, elves, fairies, the whole bunch are influenced by the night-sky. They don’t even know it, the poor schmucks.” Jubilee waves a hand at her. “No offense.”

Fresh stares over at Jubilee, the obvious question on the tip of her tongue. But she presses it back down and looks back towards the perfectly normal moon. “But the moon is like it always is, Jubilee.”

“Must be the stars then,” explains Jubilee, looking at the night-sky. The tone of their voice suggests that they hold this explanation to be just as plausible as the last one.

“Do you like looking at stars?” asks Fresh, lifting her hand out of her blanket to scratch her cheek, remembering the telescope in the old house. The one she had discovered during her exploration of the place. The memory returns, bringing with it a fresh pang of guilt at her betrayal of her friend’s trust. She pulls a strand of still damp hair out of her face.

Jubilee doesn’t say anything. A distant cry erupts, as a fireball flies into the air, rising to the sky, from just outside of the adventurers’ guild.

“Better that than the other way around,” replies Jubilee. Fresh tilts her head, not sure if she gets what they mean with that. Jubilee is being weird tonight too, apparently. The girl takes in a deep breath of the night air, thinking about her ‘dream’ from a little while ago.

“Hey, Jubilee?”

“Yeah?” replies Jubilee, looking over to her, their hands still behind their head.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re sitting on a balcony.”

“No, I mean, what are we doing? With the shop?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re working so hard, but where is it going?” asks Fresh, an uncertainty growing on her face. “We’re making new things, to sell to people to earn money, but…” Fresh looks back to the sky. “What’s after that? Do we just… buy things? Why? What for? What’s the big goal? Why does the thieves’ guild want to help us do whatever it is we’re doing?”

Jubilee sighs. “Are you asking me what the meaning of life is?” They shake their head. “Moon’s fucking with you too, huh?” they imply, laughing quietly to themselves as they turn back to the sky. Fresh scowls, pursing her lips in silence. “What else is there to do?” asks Jubilee.

“Huh?”

“What else is there to do?” repeats Jubilee dryly, as they stare up at the night sky. “We’re adventurers, aren’t we?”

“Sure, but…?”

“We’re on an adventure, goo-brain,” states Jubilee. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” they say. Another fireball explodes in the air in the distance and Fresh watches as the wave of orange light born of flames washes over Jubilee’s mask, bathing it in a infernal glow for just the briefest second. Jubilee had avoided her question. “They all end eventually.”

“And then?” asks Fresh.

Jubilee looks over to her and shrugs, turning back to watch the fireballs flying into the air, likely cast by some drunken reveler. “Ask me when we get there.”

Fresh doesn’t really know what to say to that, but has no need to say anything, as she yawns loudly again instead, unable to stop herself from doing so. The two of them sit there, watching as the distant sky erupts into a series of explosions, as other casters now join in, filling the air with an assortment of vibrant spells.

There is a loud screeching of wood being dragged over stones.

Jubilee turns to look at Fresh, staring warily into her eyes. Fresh, half-standing with her hands clenched around the bottom of her chair, maintains unblinking eye-contact, while scooting closer to Jubilee. She noisily drags it the last few feet, until they’re next to each other.

“Really?” asks Jubilee with an audible, forced sigh.

Fresh doesn’t say anything, sitting back down on her chair. She grabs half of the blanket and throws it over Jubilee. She can hear Jubilee take in a sharp breath, probably getting ready to lecture her on personal space or something.

But no words ever come.

Jubilee leans back on their chair and Fresh does the same, as the two of them sit there for a while and watch the sky fill up with lights.

“Moon sure is bright tonight,” says Fresh, sparing a second to look at the perfectly normal moon.

“Yup,” agrees Jubilee.