“Hello there, missy.” The middle-aged storyteller waved at her. “I am told that you came here just to listen to my stories, and that makes me happy.”

Dia nodded eagerly. Reading books was great, but being told about legends and stories by a professional had this unique feel to it. From their tone, from their choice of words, from how they phrased things, one could interact with nuances that may have been missed if read directly from the written word alone.

“How long have you been doing story-telling for?” Dia asked.

“Me?” Colidra chuckled. “A good four decades. And I think I’ll be telling them for another sixty or so. You will not believe how much one can get by telling stories and legends.”

“Well, storytellers do get invited to teach the children of nobles,” Dia replied. “And they’re sometimes invited to parties and balls for entertainment, since some nobles prefer listening to talking.”

“Pretty much that,” Colidra replied. “And Schwarz here hires me with some good drink every time I’m in town.”

“Good drink?” Dia repeated. Was it Colidra’s taste that was a problem? Or was the old man referring to apple juice or something? She wasn’t quite sure, so she glanced at Schwarz, who obviously knew what she was thinking.

“He’s like me,” Schwarz replied. “He used to drink lots of alcohol, until he realised that beer bellies and trekking the lands don’t go well together. So he now drinks the lighter versions of my brews, as well as apple juice.”

He paused. “Colidra, meet another apple juice convert.”

“Oh. Missy, you have very good taste indeed. Apple juice is indeed the best thing in this bar,” Colidra replied. “I’ve been trying to convince the master to switch to apple juice only, but he is vehemently insistent on making bracing brews. Granted, they do taste good, but…”

“If you’re knocked out before you could actually taste them,” said Dia, “how do you know that they actually taste good?”

“Ah. You assume that everyone’s knocked out by the first sip.” The storyteller grinned. “Not everyone is knocked out. Those who have hardened livers and stern minds can resist the incredible pressure for five seconds, long enough to appreciate the flavours inside these brews.”

“I’ll pass on the hardened livers bit, thanks,” Dia replied with a shudder.

“Yeah, you should. His brews aren’t good for the body…”

“Are you guys done yet?” Schwarz asked. “Stop badmouthing my works of art. Don’t you feel sad for them? You haven’t even tried them, and they’re already vilified.”

“I think their first order of business, should they ever gain sentience, would be to flee the fate of being drank,” Dia pointed out. “Not to mope over people who don’t want to drink them.”

Colidra nodded along. “You should seriously consider lowering the alcohol content in your brews, master.”

“Shut it, you two.” Schwarz poured out a cup of apple juice and placed it in front of Colidra brusquely. “Here, your drink. It’s apple juice. Enjoy.”

“You sound like you’re cursing me, though…”

As Dia and Colidra sipped from their cups, the bartender busied himself with lighting up the rest of the lanterns and opening for business. There was a kitchen behind the bar, but from how Schwarz was ignoring it, it was clear that there weren’t going to be any food today.

“Come to think of it,” said Dia, “ever since you joined up with us, you haven’t had much time to man the counter, right? Isn’t this going to affect Triple-D’s business?”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Schwarz. “I’m only one of the stakeholders here. The rooms are still open for people to book, and the chef went off for a holiday some time ago anyway. There are other staff who handle the issue of lodgings here.”

“It’s just a lot quieter, since the master isn’t opening the bar that often,” Colidra added. “More peaceful too, if you ask me.”

“Not for long, though.” Schwarz wiped the last table and flung the doors open. “Your return isn’t a secret, and everyone wants to hear about the latest news. Plus, it’s nearly the new year. Have you uncovered any fun secrets about the Moons?”

“Yes and no,” Colidra replied, a smile playing on his face. “But you’ll have to wait. Your customers are coming in, after all.”

A muscular man, with a hammer hanging off his belt, walked in at that moment. “Master! It’s good that this place is open! I was beginning to despair when you hadn’t opened for the past three days.”

Schwarz chuckled. “I’m open now, so it’s fine. What will you have?”

“One Fire Dragon, please.”

“Coming right up!” Schwarz returned to his counter and started to mix things around. Dia watched on, fascinated by his swift movements that were clearly absent when he was practicing the sword this morning.

Before she could say anything, however, a steady stream of people had walked into the bar, each of them yelling out their own orders. Within moments, some sort of ordered chaos had settled into the bar, and Dia had lost track of who had ordered what.

In the middle of the storm, Schwarz continued to take and make orders calmly.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Colidra murmured. “This sight is rather rare; usually, he opens in the morning, which means that there aren’t this many people yelling orders at once. Once the initial bustle is over, customers enter in a rather even manner, so you seldom get to see him work within the storm.”

Dia nodded, but she didn’t dare to speak.

As it turned out, not all impressive sights had to be made by lots of mana and glittering metals. Even simple, everyday tasks like taking orders and making them could be honed to such a degree, and Dia found herself wondering how she would fare if she was in his place.

After three orders were yelled out in a single second, Dia came to the conclusion that she was not cut out for this.

“Everyone has their own talents,” said Colidra, who was eyeing her with an amused look on his face. “Mine was storytelling and gathering information. The master is talented at handling people. Since we’re all built differently, don’t go judging yourself with the standards of others. You’ll just make your life darker.”

Dia rubbed her nose. “How did you know—”

“Oh, please. I’ve seen enough people watch him handle a storm like this,” Colidra replied. “Some of them aspired to be like him, and then applied their aspirations into their occupation. Others wanted to know how he could be so steady and firm, and asked him about his secret.”

“Secret?”

“Yes. He was quite happy to share them too,” Colidra replied.

“What’s his secret, then?” Dia asked.

“To take things as they come. Fifty orders? No problem. He’ll work from the first to the last, without any fluster or haste.” Colidra chuckled. “After all, he’s the master here. Who’s going to complain? And who are they going to complain to?”

“It does sound like him,” Dia replied. She hadn’t forgotten how Schwarz had handled the aftermath of shooting down the tri-folder Shadow back then; his first suggestion was for everyone to rest, since there was no point in worrying too hard about it.

“He’s a really calm type, if nothing else.” The storyteller gestured at Schwarz, who was already calling people up to the bar. The system he employed was rather simple, making use of numbered chits to track orders, and before long, he had worked through everyone’s order.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

As chatter filled the bar, Schwarz served another order and then wandered off to Colidra. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“They seem extra polite for some reason,” the storyteller noted. “Usually, they’ll be shouting my name off the bat and asking for a certain story.”

“You already know the reason why, though,” Schwarz replied. “Alright, all yours!”

Colidra took out a pair of spectacles and stuck it on his nose, eliciting cheers from the patrons, who were now sipping from their drinks and watching intently. A few of them were already asleep, knocked out by the extra-powerful brews, but those that were awake were staring at the storyteller with glittering eyes.

“I see everyone’s already waiting for the story.” He smiled. “Very well. Presenting the seasonal legend — the Moons and the Makers, remastered for the modern audience today.”

He paused for a moment, and then glanced at everyone. “In the era before the gods, three Moons hung in the void, surrounding the seed of a world. Charged they were to nurture the seed, to protect it from ill. Their little ward grew over eons, eventually dwarfing its guardians in size. In the dark between the stars, the three Moons saw naught, but felt the little lives on their charge all the same. Plota, distraught at its ignorance, bade the others to shine with all their might.”

Colidra pushed his spectacles up, his actions carrying an odd gravitas. “With their radiance, humans no longer feared the dark, for they now knew the light. Humans no longer hid away, for they now knew the world. Humans no longer cursed their weak, wretched forms, for they now knew the beauty of their bodies.”

“Illuminated in mind, body and soul, the humans set off into the great unknown, and returned to their home, ambition in their hearts.” Colidra finished his drink. “And so began the First Godsfall.”