Recaps and Refills

“Let’s cut to the chase.” I began, placing my drink on the table. “A few days ago, during the General’s rereading of Petal’s message—”

“I-I’m sorry, the what and the who?” Aesandoral stammered as her big, confused eyes stared through mine.

“The thing we discussed?”

“I was pretty drunk when we did that, hehe—woops.” She released an adorable giggle as she blushed, hiding behind her mug of alcohol. “Could I get a recap?”

Rubbing at my face, I released a sigh before quietly explaining again that both Rionriv and I had spoken with a General of Shatter—the group of progressive freedom fighters local to this continent. I laid out the basics of the conversation once more, including the plan we made to deliver them supplies from the dungeon in a few days.

Midway through the recap, Sharzin tapped the table quickly, quieting me as the waitress came over. A friendly ruminantfolk woman in a long sundress and apron approached, carrying a heavy pitcher in her hands. With proper southern charm, she refilled our steins before retreating to gather the meal that had been ordered.

Once she was beyond earshot, I continued to explain that the General then delivered a message to me. A reminder that because of my unique abilities, every decision I made would either better or break the world.

Alright, now for the kicker.

I glanced over to Rionriv, who stared her electric glare my way. With a huff, I then explained that the ancient and powerful Petal Highland—a prominent General from a hundred and fifty years prior—called me by a different name.

It was then that Rionriv took her opportunity to strike.

“And I wondered why this woman and the succubus both called you Tahvin.”

“T-That’s because it was my old life’s name,” I explained. “I told you already. I’m Kalish-nik, which means instead of Ishara unlocking his psionic soup of past life memories to help him through this world, my life and memories overwrote his. I got a second chance at life, at the expense of this boy’s future.”

“How old were you when you died?” Sharzin asked abruptly.

“That’s the oddly specific question you chose to ask? Umm—thirty-five.”

“Yikes,” She gasped, looking me over. “So old. Were you fat too? Old people get fat.”

“Hey!” I cried out. “What kinda question is—"

“Here, you go, dears.” The waitress spoke again as she approached, dropping off plates of breakfast meats and fresh fruit.

We gave our thanks, diving into our meals hungrily. Well, most of us. As the waitress departed, Rionriv continued her interrogation in earnest.

“So, if you were thirty-five in your past life, how do you know so much about this world? This era?”

Oh, you mean I should have said I was a thirty-five-year-old shut-in from another reality? One where I spent every free moment over the last twenty years meticulously detailing each aspect of the cosmos of the very universe I now walked through? Yeah, I can’t say that. That’s brain-melting crap!

“You know how Petal was able to see into the future and be able to deliver that message?” I eventually replied through my mouthful of bacon. “It’s something kind of like that. I know all about the past, and I know quite a lot about the future.”

“So, if you knew all that stuff, how come you died so young?”

“My knowledge isn’t perfect because, as with all things, crap happens. Maybe one day, someone makes a left turn instead of a right and that changes history.”

Like murdering a bullfrog bandit that was supposed to be alive for at least a few more years. But I’d rather not think about that action and the subsequent consequence. Not like we had much choice at the time.

Rionriv stared at me intensely. “How’d you die?”

“I got hit by a—uh—runaway horseless-cart.”

Truck-kun’d by Phyllis.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been looking into the future and instead looked in front of yourself.”

“This is fair,” I replied as I washed down the bacon with a gulp of meadmosa. “Don’t worry. Currently, I’m thinking about the here and now.”

“How’d you know—”

“Can we save the game of twenty questions for later?” I interrupted Rionriv and looked amongst the group. “After breakfast, let’s move on. I wouldn’t mind enjoying Fearnemyst for a few days while we wait for the General.”

After brokering an armistice with Rionriv, we spent the rest of brunch talking about our dungeon dive through thrilling reenactments, yelps, and hollers. We eventually finished a few more rounds of morning drinks, before a second round of breakfast meats and now pastries, including flapjacks, arrived.

Now these are crêpes I can get behind!

Biting into the sausage I had rolled into one of the pancakes, we talked about the pets we had recently acquired. Moose and Ruckus, the young dire wolves, were Aesandoral’s fur babies, with Moose having a particular fondness for me as well. Meanwhile, Sharmin, the dire bear, was Sharzin’s cuddly boy and equally a momma's bear.

The girls sighed expressively at the discussion, saddened to be travelling without the newest additions. But, since we planned to spoil and train them properly, I had decided it was best to leave them with Phyllis for the time being. After all, they were still young, and the world was challenging enough without worrying about them.

Hammering this point home, I discussed the risk of acquiring more pets during a mission and why we shouldn't do so. I recapped the events in the crocmaw level of the facility, where the ill-trained wolves threw a wrench into our plans, only to be met with grumbles. It was then, at the end of one particularly pointed statement, that everyone quickly decided it was time to get on with the next mission.

Without further discussion, we happily paid the tab of three gold pieces for our meals and drinks, and even left a two-gold tip before stumbling out into the street. We were officially loaded after all, so in traditional fantasy adventurer style, why not outrageously overpay people for their services?

That was when it happened.

“My eyeeeeees.” I cried out, the midmorning sun instantly blinding me as I stepped out from the dim bed and breakfast.

Why did I write this sun to be so bright? And why am I still adjusting to this nonsense?! This is my biggest regret! Well, that and the dumb names everywhere.

“Oh, you baby.” Rionriv huffed as she stepped around me.

“I’ll help.” Aesandoral breathed softly, taking my arm in hers.

For a moment, I could have sworn I heard the faint squeal of delight come from her. But it could have also been a bird in the distance because a moment later, she inhaled deeply before yelling out.

“Ri, slow down!”

We walked for a while arm-in-arm as I sensed our rogue coming up along my side.

“We should get horses,” Sharzin recommended dully, to which Aesandoral gasped an excited response.

“Yes!”

“No.” I shot down the response immediately. “No more pets.”

“They’re not pets, they’re for transportation.”

“I had a pet horse,” Aesandoral replied, tanking Sharzin’s argument.

“No horses. If we want fast transport, we can hire a carriage.”

“No, we can’t.”

We had caught up with Rionriv, who had been rushing ahead to the transportation stables. She explained that every carriage had already been hired out to Anak’Hati for concert transportation.

It was at this point that I was able to see once more. Or at least well enough to view the posters that were plastered on the walls of the station hub.

‘DJ Demilich!!! – and – POWER WORD THRILL!!! – one night only!!! – Emerald Setting Solstice!!! – Anak’hati!!! – tickets at the door!!! – raffle to meet the King!!!’

At the end of the excited announcement, I could barely make out the smallest asterisks that led to the faintest fine print at the bottom of the poster.

‘The King refers to the King of the Show, DJ Demilich.’

Man, their marketing is concise. Must be Phyllis-approved. Could use more exclamation marks, though.

“Yay, horses!” Sharzin and Aesandoral squealed excitedly.

“No horses,” Rionriv shook her head. “They’re all taken, too. Everyone is going to this concert.”

“It’s going to be a riot,” I mumbled quietly.

And start a global war, resulting in an arcane bomb nuking the Capital City of Sutin’eli. But I can’t say that.

“Iz, can’t we please go? We can defend ourselves, regardless of the whole, you know…thing.”

“No. We should stay far away from it. That’s why we’re going to Fearnemyst.”

“Well, wherever we’re going, we’re walking.” Rionriv finally said and, with an abrupt turn, began to march down the road leading north.

We all followed behind, our feet clattering along the cobblestone on our way out of Squalls Crossing. As we did, I took a moment to admire the cob structures and thatch roofs of the town a final time.

It was going to be almost three days of travel on foot to Fearnemyst. Which, while boring, would at least give me time to enjoy a bit more of the countryside before it was scarred by trenches and soaked in blood.

I sighed, trying not to think about the future.