《The Bartender at the End of the Universe》Ch 25: Over, Under, Around, and Through
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Ted absentmindedly kicked a pinecone. Small drops of rain slowly made their way through the upper canopy. They dripped down in an oddly relaxing rhythm as Ted and Trizel's footsteps squished into the soggy ground with each step they took. Ted was grateful for his jacket as a bitter wind whipped through the trees like an army of vengeful spirits. Howling against the sides of the trees and through the branches that gently swayed with their ethereal chorus.
The forest was a strange beast. Almost like it was completely separate from the rest of their small world. Stepping into the line of trees was like stepping into a fantasy. It left a tingling on the back of their spines, like mysterious creatures were around every bend. As if behind every tree, and in every shadow were eyes watching and waiting. It was the lair of a predator, and the entire place gave off that uneasy feeling with only small reprieves.
Wait, how long does it take you? Death's voice cut through the eeriness of the forest.
"Does what take who?" asked Ted, grateful for the conversation to have started up again.
The distilling over a fire stuff. How long does that take you to do?
Ted scratched his head as he thought about it. "I'm not sure. At least six hours or so if you include building the fire and waiting for the coals to get hot enough."
Huh! Six hours? That seems a little excessive. Do you do anything else during that time?
"Well, as Trizel can tell you, it's a good time to talk. I mean, early on it really isn't much more than waiting for everything to heat up. But once it does, it's a pretty constant flow of adjusting things a little bit here and there. I'm sure using a propane or electric camp stove would be a lot faster and easier, but..." Ted paused as he looked up at the ominous forest. It was so full of mystery and gave him a strange nostalgic feeling. "But there's just something about doing it over an open fire. It just feels...I don't know, it's hard to explain."
"Perhaps you mean that it feels more traditional? Like you are following in your uncle's ways?" offered Trizel as he seemed to have calmed down a good deal from earlier.
Or like it makes you feel like some crazy woodsman? Death offered as he popped up from behind Trizel's shoulder and lifted a finger into the air.
Ted groaned in frustration as he slowly shook his head. "No, I don't think it's either of those. Maybe some of it is, but it's not...argh! Why is it so hard to put it into words!"
"Some feelings are not so easily conveyed," sighed Trizel. "For example, my fury and rage at Sid's refusal to keep the rest of us informed cannot be so easily explained. Angry, furious, seething, all fall far short of the unbridled fury boiling over inside of me."
And just like that, Trizel was no longer calmed down. Death and Ted both noticed, and instead of addressing it, Death said, Well, like, maybe if we go through some of the stuff you do over a fire verses on a stove, you can understand your reasons better?
"I guess it couldn't hurt," sighed Ted. "With a fire you have to build it up from nothing."
"Like trust between allies," interjected Trizel.
"I mean...sure," agreed Ted reluctantly. "And you can put things on it when it's still a raging flame, but it's best if you wait until they are hot coals. Well, with how long it takes, I am constantly adding more wood to burn, so maybe waiting until it is all burned to coals isn't the best plan. For this at least. I guess...I guess part of it is the whole being in nature aspect. Sitting around a fire in the thick of a mysterious forest feels almost like a primal comfort. Like it's burned into my very DNA as a relaxing place. Throw in making alcohol with that, and it's almost like I'm tapping into the core of what makes someone human."
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That's a lot more cerebral than I was expecting. Mused Death But what would I know about that. he knocked on his skull with his fist before he added, huhuhu.
"Your comedic genius is as sharp as ever," sighed Trizel. "Alcohol is important to culture. In my world, at least. Life is difficult, and it served as a way to let anyone, no matter their station, relax. It ripped away the pressure from life and brought us all to the same level, at least for a night."
"It was pretty similar in my world. Although a lot of it was historically water that wasn't contaminated could be hard to find, so beer was a sort of purification that made drinking safer. Or so I was told. I wasn't around back then." shrugged Ted. "It was the same with relaxing. It's how many people unwind. Although it tended to be pretty expensive. Made it a kind of double-edged sword for people without a lot of money."
"Did you have much money in this world of yours? Did you reign with your uncle as lords of the drink?" asked Trizel.
Ted laughed, glad that Trizel seemed to have gotten distracted from his anger again. "Nope. In fact, if I didn't know how to make my own stuff for so cheap, I probably would have been unable to afford to drink."
"But your uncle was surely rich from selling his drinks?"
Ted shook his head again as he smiled. "Nope. He had talked about it before of course. Opening his own brewery, or selling things at fairs, but he never did. Whatever he made always seemed to disappear into family and friend's pantries." Ted sighed. He really did miss his uncle. "Of course, there were a bunch of rules you'd have to follow if you wanted to sell any. He didn't make a ton of money, so buying a physical business would've been difficult. Plus, they would've wanted him to abandon his whole wilderness brewing styles. They have to be able to inspect everything of course, so he'd have to do all of it indoors in specialized areas with modern equipment."
"Ah I see." nodded Trizel. "Safety is important. It is just sad to see it harm your uncle so."
Ted shook his head again. "It didn't hurt him. He never seemed to care that much about selling it anyway. It just got him some strange looks from family. You know, for wasting his life on something that'd never make him money. Money, that was what was always important back there. If anything didn't make you money, doing it at all was a waste. Brewing, writing, playing games, if you didn't monetize it, you might as well cut it from your life."
Uh, interrupted Death. I don't know if my world drank a bunch. Not really something I payed attention to.
"Did you not notice any who died of alcohol poisoning, or other similar things?" asked Trizel.
I didn't pay attention to the cause of death all the time. I'm sure some did, but I mean, there were so many. How it happened wasn't as important as like getting them where they needed to go. Death explained with a shrug of his arms.
"I suppose that makes sense," nodded Trizel before he turned to look at Ted and then back at Death. "I also suppose you two want me to return to The Oasis with you?"
"I mean," said Ted, "Wouldn't all of us being together be the best option if there is an invader? Then they can't just pick us off one by one as easily."
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Trizel looked down at Ted and stood still for a moment. "In most cases, yes." he said with a grimace. "But being around such an obstinate ally is likely to make me less effective in a fight."
"Do you expect him to stab you in the back or something?"
"I would not put it past him."
"What?" scoffed Ted. "That's crazy!"
"Is it?" Trizel's fury was clear in the searing hatred burning within his eyes. "If my death would appease this enemy, what would stop him?"
"That's not..."
"If it was the logical option, why not? If our odds are better if I am dead, would he not be a fool to not stab me in the back? According to him and his obsession with logic and odds, he would be."
"When would that even be better for us?"
"Easy," snorted Trizel. "Say that I am wrestling with the enemy, as I did with Bakade. We are both equally matched and stuck in place with neither of us giving an inch. Why not stab a spear through my chest and into his? Ensure his blow strikes true at the cost of my life. Or anyone else's in a similar circumstance."
Dang. That's cold.
"Yeah, it's also just speculation. Would killing one enemy be worth losing an ally?" countered Ted.
"Why would it not? The loss of an enemy for the loss of an ally? Seems an equal exchange." Trizel said coldly.
Ted shook his head. "I really think you're blowing this out of proportion. Sure, he views everything through logic and reason, but there's also more to all of this than just us vs them. Than enemies and allies."
"To us, of course." agreed Trizel. "Losing an entire battalion to defeat an invading battalion would have been a terrible loss. But a single life holds more weight than just what it can kill. Their families, troop morale, the economy, the time it took to train them, and I would argue a life holds more weight alive than dead. Outside of all of that, losing a troop to an enemy would be a great loss, no matter how many others that single life killed."
That doesn't seem very evil king of you Trizel.
Trizel glared over his shoulder at Death. "Only a foolish king so willingly throws his subjects lives away."
"Look, you're all worked up. Why don't we head back and have one, maybe two beers just to calm down a little?" suggested Ted.
"Drinking on the eve of battle leaves you vulnerable." Trizel sighed. "But I will at least return with you. Even not at my best I could help more if I am actually there. Rather than hunting for the enemy on my own."
Alright! Then let's turn this conga line around...hey uh, do either of you know which way is the way out?
"This is insane. You know that this is insane, right?"
Sentenza stood beside Narissa as she was reaching into a now barrel sized portal of light. "The biggest paydays always have the biggest risks." In a flash, he thrust his left hand in beside hers up to his elbow.
Narissa's eyes flung open. "What's wrong with you! We can't both..."
"No point in going easy on this thing," Sentenza smirked as he used his right hand to grab onto his bicep as his left arm seemed to be being yanked around.
Narissa shook her head. "You want us to die, don't you?" she complained.
"I don't know." he mumbled as sweat started to drip from his brow. "I'd like to think I enjoy living. Maybe not as much as you, but..."
"Shut up," she sneered. "You're worse than he is."
"Reminiscing about your husband again?" he teased.
Narissa let out a bittersweet sigh as she put a hand on her cheek. "Oh, I do miss that sweet oaf. But no, you are a far cry from him in every way." She murmured under her breath, "Thank goodness."
She seemed to be having much less difficulty than Sentenza. Where he seemed to be being yanked around, she was casually reaching through un-harassed.
"You know," offered Narissa, "if you'd like to search on your own, there is plenty of other work I could be getting done."
Sentenza looked over at her and raised an eyebrow.
Narissa smiled at him, but as his expression refused to change, she grew frustrated and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just don't complain to me when you lose that thing. Constantly sticking it into so many random holes, I don't know what else you'd expect."
Sentenza smiled as he looked back at his hand. "Very funny." he grunted as he tried to pull it back. "But I think that I found the first part we need."
With another strained grunt, Sentenza managed to pull himself back away from the portal with such force that he fell away from the fire pit and flat onto his back. Narissa laughed at him, until he held up a fuzzy gray ball in his hand. Before their eyes, the ball started to shift around.
"Who," came a small, squeaky voice, clearly terrified. "Who dares! Don't you know who I am?"
Narissa pulled her hand out of the portal. She was grasping a small pouch that she subtly placed on her belt before Sentenza could notice. She walked over to Sentenza as he slowly sat up. Despite its protests, Sentenza made sure to keep a firm grip on the gray ball. Even as a miniature fuzzy paw reached out and tried to pull itself free.
Narissa leaned over and flicked the ball.
"Ow! What the heck! Are you trying to torture me? Me!"
"Cut the act Og'drimun, it's time we had a girl to demon chat." Narissa spoke firmly, but already seemed to be getting irritated.
Sentenza loosened his grip somewhat, but not enough to let the little thing get away. "I think you're forgetting about someone in there Narissa."
"Narissa?" the ball slowly unfolded the rest of the way. It was basically a bundle of gray fur with sunken holes filled with beady red dots for eyes. It had a flat and nearly square nose with a top row of flat teeth prominently displayed over their lip. With stubby arms and legs lacking any real fingers, but having small pads like a cat, but they were almost indistinguishable from the gray of the fur. It had long, droopy ears that seemed to have been made for a rabbit at least five times its size.
The small creature looked up at Narissa, and then over to Sentenza before it looked down at its own body. "Wait! Why do I look like this!"
"What happened to you?"
Ted stopped in the doorway as he saw Sid covered in red marks. Sid was sitting down at a side table and braiding more rope. He looked completely indifferent but managed to raise his eyes up to acknowledge Ted's entrance.
"I do not know exactly," Sid explained. "The culprit for my wounds is Nugget is that was your question. But I have no reason for the assault if that was what you meant."
"Ruuuuuddddeee." Bakade's voice rang out from the other side of the room, where she was also braiding rope. "Yyyyooouuuu wwweeerrreee rrruuuddddeeee tttooooo hhheeeerrrr."
"What?" queried Sid. "In what way was I rude?"
"Oooonnneee ffffoooorrrr yyeeesss aaannnddd tttwwwooooo fffoooorrr nnnoooo." she explained.
"You are saying that trying to properly communicate is rude?"
Bakade shrugged, but before she could answer, Trizel burst into the room.
"Wait!" shouted Trizel as he stormed up and slammed his fists down on the table she was working at. "Bakade, you are awake? Quick, what happened? Who were you fighting? What did they look like? What were their capabilities? How many were there? Every detail could be important. Spare nothing."
"We have more important matters to deal with." interjected Sid as he poured wax over the frayed edges of the thick rope.
"More important!" snarled Trizel as he shifted his attention from Bakade and over to glare at Sid. "Are you still avoiding our current problem?"
"To the contrary," Sid said as he inspected the edge of the rope. "And as soon as Bakade is finished with the backup rope, we should have more than enough to head forward."
"Head forward where?" scoffed Trizel as he shook his head in frustration. "Somewhere we can set up a rope trap?"
"The last place a prison warden would expect us to go and still survive." Sid explained. "Over the edge."
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