Love Crafted

By the time you and your friends are riding into the gates of Five Peaks the sky is putting on its night time colours and you know that sleep time is coming soon, you can feel it.

The guards at the gate barely poke at the wagons and all the books and shiny loot you’re bringing back, not after Skinner shows the guard captain some papers. Your entire group enters Five Peaks with barely a squeak.

“Are we going to bed after?” you ask Abigail. You, Abigail, Daphne and Charlotte all took over the same wagon on the way back so that you could snuggle up against the colder evening air. It’s nice and it means that you only need to look up to see Abigail’s reaction.

“I think so?” Abigail says. She looks to the others for confirmation.

“No, no,“ Charlotte says. “We just finished our first adventure together. We should be celebrating.”

“Celebrating how?” Daphne asks. She’s snuggling against Abigail’s other side and you almost think she’s enjoying it more than you are.

Charlotte makes a wavy gesture in the air that could mean anything. “You know, go out to eat. Stop by an inn to share some stories and a few drinks.”

“I’d rather go to any establishment that doesn’t call itself an inn,” Daphne says. “There is a nice restaurant a block or two from the Academy. I’ve enjoyed their service before and they have small private rooms for discerning customers.”

You can tell that Charlotte is doing the eye-roll thing, but she isn’t saying no. “That sounds nice,” Abigail says. “We can use the money we made from those quests!”

“And the marks we looted from the bandits,” Charlotte adds.

Soon enough, the wagons bump and rattle all the way to the Academy’s front gates and Skinner and the mortals he hired to care for the wagons hop off. The young man moves over to your group of friends, Sigmund draped over his shoulders. “I suspect that that is that for this adventure,” he says. “I’d appreciate it if you could stop by the library tomorrow afternoon. We... have things to talk about.”

Daphne tenses a little and stands up tall before her seat. “We will do just that,” she says. “In the meantime, these last few days have been taxing, I think we’re all going to call it a night.”

Abigail hops off the wagon and then makes grabby gestures at you. When you come close and prepare for a strange hug, she instead grabs you under the arms and places you on the ground.

“Very well,” Skinner says. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a good evening, ladies,” he says before backing up.

“Bye mortal!” you call out to him politely while Daphne leads the group away.

You walk along down the block, as a small group with Daphne at the head and the rest of you trailing behind like those ducks that you sometimes find in the void. That is, until Daphne stops before a pretty building covered in climbing vines and lit from within by a bunch of candles. There’s a small patio that goes around it with couples sitting at tables and enjoying food that smells great.

Daphne waves to a man in a vest by the door. “Are there any private rooms left?” she asks.

“Indeed, ma’am,” he says. “Does the lady wish to use one?”

“I would, yes,” she says. “Seats for four.”

You’re all ushered into the pretty building so fast that you hardly get to look at the paintings on the walls or into the vases on marble plinths before you’re climbing up a staircase. Then it’s into a room that’s a bit bigger than your home with Abigail, the only furniture, the table and chairs in the middle and a bench next to a bay window overlooking the streets below.

Four menus are placed on the table by a waitress lady who then scurries off with instructions to ring the bell in the middle of the table when she’s wanted.

She’s the person bringing food, which means... but then Abigail takes the bell out of your hand and places it at the far end of the table without even looking.

“So, before our drinks arrive,” Daphne says. “Should we pick what to toast to?”

“To loot?” Charlotte asks.

Daphne throws a napkin at her which makes them both giggle a moment later.

“Ah, I think we should toast to a weekend spent with good friends,” Abigail says.

“And to somehow convince Dreamer not to eat the world like one of those gods in the old stories?” Charlotte asks.

You harrumph. You would never eat the world. Abigail lives on it, and it’s been nice so far. The moon, on the other hand... “I’m not a god,” you pout.

“Aren’t you?” Daphne asks. "I’m not well versed in the myths that existed before the Inquisition came around and swept everything away, but your actions so far...”

“Nuh-huh,” you say with a shake of the head. “Gods are little things that bumble around and come from things like mortal imaginations and stuff. They’re merely conceptual and can usually only do stuff that has to do with their own... stuff.” you frown. The mortal tongue has too many words for some things and none for others. “Like, a time god can only do things with time. Make it go faster, stop, go backwards and stuff like that. It’s weak.”

“Weak, “Abigail says. She sounds a little faint. Maybe she needs to go to sleep sooner.

“Yeah,” you say, happy that your friends are so clever. “The bigger gods are better. You can eat them for longer because there’s more to chew on.”

The door opens and the waitress returns with a tray that has a bottle and some glasses on it next to a pitcher of water.

You only get water, but the others, especially Daphne, fill up their cups to the brim with strange smelling juice. “A toast then, to...” Daphne pauses, then shrugs one shoulder. “To many more drinks to come.”

“Aye,” The others say before drinking.

You do the same, but all you get is water. Oh well, you have good company to make up for it.