“Thank you for the meal Jay,” Jay nodded at Robin from the poorly lit kitchen off to the side of the hearth. “I’m sorry about earlier, but thank you to Jack for taking over,” I nodded at him from my place to his right. “Now my requisite thank yous are done and your stomachs are lined. Let’s crack out the adult juice!”

I laughed and produced a bottle of gin I had been hiding with a basic Light bend, and a pulled a bottle of tonic from behind my seat. I began filling Robins mug with an amount of alcohol a bartender might call ‘pissing money down the drain’ but I called ‘making sure my boss is happy’.

For myself I poured cider from a box into a mug. We all drank from mugs: they’re sturdier and we just don’t have the money for Enchanter-made glass.

“Can I take that and you pour yourself a new one?” a long, pinched face attached to a short, soft man appeared next to me. Connor, the transmuter.

“Ah, you are here, I was beginning to wonder. You take this one, I’ll do another.”

“Thanks, Jack, nice to see you again.” He ducked out through the crowd of people all clamouring for alcohol.

“Has anyone got a mug? Connors wandered off with mine.” My question was answered in part by Andre looming over me, blocking the light of the fire.

“I’ve got you mate, kneel down.” He smiled, lifting the box of cider above me, “open wide.” He turned the tap and the still, warm cider hit my mouth. The night devolved quickly.

---

“Does anyone mind if I sing a song?” said Dave, one of our few Bards. His voice was lost in the din. “Projection,” he tried again “DOES ANYONE MIND IF I SING A SONG”, he was shouting, yet not, it was like his voice was pushed to the forefront of all our minds, you could see the battle application. “It is a little rude but… no no no I think it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure itsh fine Dave, go for it.” I supported him, the music was one of my favourite parts, always.

“It’s not really that bad, but you guys know how shy I am.” Dave said as he bought out his banjo. This was a lie.

“Oh,

I’m a cunt,

I’m a cunt,

I’m a country boy.

I work like a cunt,

I work like a cunt,

I work like a country boy.

I want to find a cunt

Want to find a cunt

Want to find a country girl.

I love the smell of a –“

“Okay Dave we get it,” Robin laughed.

“Get what?” Said Dave, “What you think I’m saying” He stage whispered: “Cunt? No, no, that’s ridiculous, you’ve just got a dirty mind”. He was playing chords the whole time he spoke, I was beginning to suspect he had asked Robin to interrupt him. Dave continued much like this.

---

I returned from peeing in the bracken and found myself a group that interested me. I pointed to the free space in the circle.

“May I?” I said, as I moved to the space.

“Of course! Everyone this is Jack, our favourite illusionist child, Jack this is Jenny, Abby and Tom.” Said Sam, a Druid only topped in skill by Robin himself, except far younger. Pointing in order to the short Evoker Jenny, I had met earlier; a woman who must be Abby and had the athletic figure and rough hands of another Evoker and finally a man with greying hair and the glasses and trinkets that stood him out as an Enchanter.

“Hi, what are we drinking?” I said as I sat, draining my can of ale.

“Mead!” said Tom, showing off his bottle of amber liquid. “Made it myself. Want some?”

“Course! Got a mug?”

“Share mine, Jack,” Said Abby, offering her mug to me. “it’s not like we don’t live in close enough proximity as it is.” I smiled and accepted, sipping, feeling the intense heat and sweetness casting off any sickness I may have had now, or in the following month.

“Christ that’s good Tom, what percent’s it?” I said, sucking the last of it off my lips.

“Shut up Jack, just drink it” purred Abby, lifting the cup up to my lips again.

Time passed; drinks were shared.

---

Of the twenty or so that began, by this time only a few remained. Robin sat in a folding chair, blanket over him, idly stroking his dog Metta. Dave sat idly strumming away. Abby and I lay head to head forming a line on the grass.

“Why are you here Jack?” she said.

“Fuck you,” I replied, stifling a burp.

“No I mean, what good are you?” she tried again.

“Yeah sorry I meant to say: Fuck you.” I rolled onto my chest and stood. “Can I nick that cig now Bobby?” Robin simply smiled and handed me his felt pouch. I stuck a filter in my mouth. “Thanks,” I said through it. I sat cross legged, a little further from Abby this time. “Try again, what are you trying to say?”

“Like,” she began, bouncing into the same position as me, knees touching each of mine. “Why is an illusionist here? Like I get why Robin and Sam are of course, they’re rare, but why would Robin want an Illusionist? Aren’t you guys just as bad as Rogues?”

“Maybe I’m different. Maybe I just really care about the environment. Think of that?” I said, smiling slightly as I lit the cigarette, inhaled and blew it into her face.

“Ugh, weather control.” A gust of wind blew the smoke away from her. “What I mean is, what makes you better than, say, a knight? We’re trying to show the kids the truth, not trick them.”

“He knows exactly what you mean,” said Robin, from his shadowy chair. “And the answer is: wait, sister, you’ll see.”