Chapter 143

The Favor

Abigail

Barnacle-eyes and Remember-not were still asleep when Hawkin returned from Beyond the Cabin. Hawkin tasked himself with preparing soup for everyone. I took the opportunity to wander off on one of the northeastern trails.

I ambled as I went, almost oblivious to my surroundings. I barely heard the rustle of new leaves. I barely felt the sunlight on my skin. There was a breeze, but it left me alone. Some part of me dreaded the coming conversation.

I uncorked my eternally chilled bottle of Potere’s Beacon. I poured a libation.

I heard footsteps in the forest. I turned to find Potere materializing as he strode toward me. His beard and hair were still encrusted with sea salt. He was nearly twice the size of a man, but he shrunk as he approached until he was just a head taller than me.

“Abigail! How good it is to see you. You look well.”

I looked off into the woods to let my thoughts settle. I had unresolved feelings and they had nowhere to go but through my heart and veins.

“I’ve called you to fulfill the favor,” I said at last.

“You cannot fathom how many potential followers I’ve lost! Your efforts will be well rewarded! I will grant most anything you want. Now tell me. Give me something I can use to sway people back my way.”

Give him something? Would my answer be enough for him? I had nothing to give him, only a simple explanation. An explanation too simple. And if he didn’t accept it, what then?

“It is not a thing which contributes to Hawkin’s rise to one of the world’s greatest Brewers,” I said.

“I’d say a nightream is a thing. And if a nightream acts as a bodyguard, it most certainly is a thing. But I beg that it’s something less terrible—something I can use to my benefit.”

“Hawkin doesn’t care about becoming more powerful.”

“Of course he does. Aren’t you mentoring him?”

“He’s not interested in the power of reaching higher ranks. He wants to reach gold rank so that he has a better chance of brewing golden chapter beers. He doesn’t care about anything else.”

“I’m listening.”

“As you probably know, Hawkin’s ethereal beers are something new which are being distributed by Hiccup in Lavenfauvish. The rise in his reputation is due in part to the new ingredients he’s been using.”

“Including dreambons.”

“Thus, alchemists have sought him out. Drawing interest from people all over the world has contributed to his rise. I heard recently that Myth rank adventurers seek him out.”

“Dellia’s influence has rapidly grown,” Potere said. “Followers are constructing her first monument.”

“Hawkin has also reunited Corylus with his beloved dog who had passed.”

“That’s something I admire about you humans.”

“Thus, grievers are seeking him out. I’m sure that has contributed to his rise in reputation.”

“I know that he also took the Champion title for the Oude Brewer’s Competitive. One of my followers is currently still choking on that.”

“That also contributed.”

“There’s more?”

“I think it all started when Hawkin made friends with Thrush. That got him into brewing goblin spit beer.”

“Idiot.”

“No. No, that’s where it started. Those goblins have been Hawkin’s biggest customer. Then the orcs came asking for his beer. Then the hurlicorns.”

“Distribution led to this?”

“Barnacle-eyes is going to sail the world and she will expand distribution to more goblins…more monsters.”

“I see.”

“It’s more than that. Not only are his beers sought after by humans and more so by monsters, but by creatures underground as well.”

“Underground! You jest!”

“Creatures called blue besties; rather, red besties.”

“Impossible.”

“His beers are spreading through the world like…like…the way that mushrooms spread.”

“But we’re talking about spit beer! Spit beer, Abigail!”

“Hawkin never found it beneath him to brew something like that for the goblins. Potere…That’s why Hawkin is quickly rising to become one of the world’s greatest brewers.”

I then told Potere about Thrush’s evolution.

“So he can go anywhere in the world at any time?” he said. “Like a god?”

“He can. And with a bottomless inventory, Thrush can transport all of Hawkin’s beer all over the world in the blink of an eye.”

“Is this all coincidental? Is that it? Dellia must have known this. This must be by her design!”

“I don’t know about any of that.”

“Then there’s nothing I can take from this. Nothing I can do about it.”

“I wish it were some item. I wish I could have given you a better answer—something you could hold in your hands.”

“We cannot diminish how much a part of his rise Thrush is. The nightream has made all things possible.”

“I won’t disagree with that.”

“I’ll have to use my influence to push the envelope to compete with Dellia.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Godly things. Mind your own, Abigail.”

“And of this favor I’ve completed?”

“Yes. Name a thing. I’ll give it to you. I won’t do anything with your system. I will not go against other gods.”

It was then that I felt the world around me because my mind went blank. I felt the warmth of the sun. The breeze finally touched me. I heard the rustle of leaves and the occasional clash of swaying tree branches.

“You haven’t thought about it?” Potere said. “You must want something. A specific beer?”

“I’d like to think on it.”

“I’ll grant you that. You let me know, Abigail. Anything I can do…you let me know.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

I turned my gaze to the infinity of nature. The breeze made my hair tangle with shafts of sunlight. Did I want to get my hands on a Fable rank beer? A Myth rank beer? An Oblivion rank beer? Did I want some legendary item that would help me advance my Brewer quest path? What was available to ask for?

When I turned back to Potere, the god was gone.

I sat among the roots of an old tree and closed my eyes while sunlight fell upon me.