It’s a mystery.

Fresh sits down on the windowsill in the library, staring out towards the heavy moon that hangs above the city, shining through the shield that encases them all with cold, distant light.

What’s outside of the shield? Nobody knows. What’s going on in the outside world? Nobody knows. Where’s the hero, Garnett? Nobody knows. Where’s Peridot? Nobody knows. What happened to them both? Nobody knows. What did the curse or the apple do? Nobody knows. Why is the red-wizard here? Nobody knows. Why was the craftsman who made their shower in the east also here, in this very house? Nobody knows. What are the black-fountain’s true goals and intentions not only for her, but for the world itself?

Nobody knows.

There are so many mysteries still remaining and Fresh just doesn’t know what to think of it all. Sure, usually she would just ignore these things and let life just be life. Sometimes, you aren’t supposed to know the answers to the questions you have, that’s just what it is.

But tonight, perhaps because of the brightness and the fullness of the giant moon, perhaps because of a random assortment of worries, perhaps because of their slow business and her growing anxieties, Fresh can’t sleep.

So, here she is instead, staring up towards the moon and wondering about so many different things at once as she watches the thick rays of yellow moon-glow dance through the silhouettes of the houses, dance through the flakes of falling snow, dance through the magic of the giant shield around the city as she thinks. That’s it, that’s the only reason that she’s down here by herself in the middle of the night, she just wanted a place to be and to think.

“What color was the dragon?” mutters Fresh, staring at the shelf of books next to herself. Her voice carries around the library, but never gets far as the collection of books and shelving almost seems to swallow her words, as if trying to prevent her insecurity from reaching any other ears.

She’s sure that the dragon was red.

But Basil is sure that the dragon was orange.

Shamrock says it was green.

Jubilee says it was blue.

She already knows that it’s odd, that everyone’s perception of what color the dragon was is based on their own favorite colors. She knows her friends extremely well. Perhaps too well in some contexts to be considered a healthy social dynamic, but those perceptions of ‘socially healthy’ don’t matter in her eyes.

But why would they all consider the dragon to be something else than what it was? They’ve never disagreed about anything like this before, so of course its odd. And given how absolutely gigantic the dragon was, it’s not really possible that they could mistake the color of its scales, especially all of them at once.

And yet…

Fresh turns back out towards the city as she runs the thought through her mind again, the obvious thought that even someone as simple and dumb as she holds herself to be could understand.

‘The dragon’ isn’t real.

They never fought an end-boss in the eastern dungeon. The four of them can barely make it past the half-way boss of the easier central-dungeon and yet somehow, they were supposed to have beaten the final boss of the hardest, eastern dungeon?

- Not a chance.

Do the others know?

Probably. If she’s figured it out, then there’s no way that they all didn’t see through it all, perhaps even weeks ago. They were just not talking about it because they’re sparing her feelings. She really appreciates them for that. Friends don’t lie, but keeping secrets is okay and she really appreciates that they tried.

But the secret is revealed now. She knows. But, if the dragon is fake, then why would the fountain instill such a powerful, obscuring memory in them? The only thing she can think of is that something bad must have happened, something terrible. Something so wild and dangerous, that it would perhaps jeopardize its goals, if the four of them were to have these facts in the back of their heads all day, every day.

Perhaps, somewhere in this connection, there is the answer to her questions before, to all of those mysteries she had listed a few moments ago. The red-wizard…

Fresh clenches her eyes, thinking.

The red-wizard has been here a few times now, asking for help and yet… Those moments while she was here, those instances are all oddly… vague. She knows that the red-wizard was here. She remembers talking to her. She remembers listening to the problem that the woman has and yet…

It’s all foggy, like it never happened. It’s like the dragon ate those memories.

Fresh stares up towards the moon as she continues to wonder. Where is this all going to go?

She just wants her friends to be safe at the end of it.

“Excuse me, do you have anything for dry eyes?” asks a man. Basil nods, gesturing over her shoulder for him to follow her as she walks with an excited pace, apparently happy that someone is finally here again to buy some medicine.

“Hey,” says a familiar necromancer. He lifts up the staff he had bought the other day. “I need a new bauble, I broke mine.”

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “Are you going to put more bones in it?”

“I could also use teeth?” suggests the necromancer, receiving a sigh in response.

“Do you have these for the giant snake sub-boss?” asks a dark-elf, pointing at a ‘murder-manual’. Shamrock considers for a moment and then nods, walking towards the shelf.

More people walk in, business is apparently going to pick up again today, finally. “Hey, I heard this is a really good place to -”

Fresh sighs a sigh of relief. After a full night of worrying about different things, it’s nice to have a little foundation back beneath her feet.

People come and people go for the better part of the morning. She asks Muldrich if he wants lunch, receiving only her traditional ‘no, thank you’ in reply. Then she makes lunch for the others. All in all, it’s a perfectly normal day like any other and she is extremely grateful for it and for everyone who steps foot into their store. Even the people who don’t buy anything and just are there to look around or to accompany someone. She’s glad that she is here to share this space and the time with them as they pass each other by in the quick, rapid mystery of a thing that is life.

The till slams shut as Jubilee finishes the sale they were just making and Fresh, sipping her tea quietly, stands behind the counter and watches the door as the next group comes inside to look around, perhaps drawn in by the unusual crowd that is around today.

An elf, a human, an orc, a dark-elf and a fairy.

Veli.

Fresh lets out an excited scream, dropping her tea and jumping over the counter.