Chapter 71: Until Next Time
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Grace.”
Chaste’s head drooped low as he begged for forgiveness, but the moment he mentioned her name, her body disappeared in a flash of sudden magic. Theo, having been facing that direction to look at Chaste, saw a pair of feet in the middle of the staircase. He let her be for now. Grace seemed to need time alone whenever something bothered her, and while he’d rather make sure she was comforted, he expected resistance from her.
“Theo, I—”
“I believe you,” Theo smiled. “You were just a kid. She’ll need some time, though.”
“This isn’t how I pictured we’d see each other again. I was hoping we’d sit down with a pitcher of ale between us and have you tell me your story.”
“No ale yet, I’m afraid,” Wen chimed in. “Though, if there ever was a time we needed it.”
Theo smiled. He’d only tasted the sludge served at the old Barge in Brook Town, and he’d gladly live out his remaining days drinking no more of it. He was eager to taste Wen’s products, though.
“That would’ve been great…if the circumstances were different,” Theo said.
Chaste agreed. “If the circumstances were different.”
They looked at each other. Maybe if Sigil Lake still stood at the other end of this, they’d meet up again and have that drink. Without another word, the three of them headed outside to say their goodbyes.
“You know, this place is giving me the shivers,” Chaste said as they looked up at the looming statue’s backside. “It’s like she’s draining me.”
Theo remembered the effects the effigy possessed but checked it again to be sure about the number.
Effigy (The Scorned Witch with an Attitude):
Effigy provides a Town-wide +1 mana regeneration per minute to all registered villagers.
Effigy provides a +0.33 mana regeneration per minute to all non-villagers.
Effigy provides a -1 mana regeneration per minute to all Ercheat-registered inhabitants.
Effigy may affect other buildings, worksites, or dungeons within its area of effect as they become available.
“That, uh…can be explained,” Theo shrugged and shared the details about the Ercheat-specific effect of the religious symbol.
“Never heard of effects like that. I’m getting the sense that Mother may be hiding something from me. She’s always resisted my path in learning Arcana’s history, and now…’Scorned Witch’, you say?”
“I’ll admit, there seems to be something there,” Wen added. “But sending an army to tear the effigy down, if not the whole town?”
Chaste mumbled his agreement but kept it silent for the most part. “I’ll have to get going. We’ll arrive tomorrow night, but you’ll have no interference from us until the next midday. Camp will be set further out, but you’ll be able to at least see us.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Theo said, sticking his hand out. “And the note.”
Chaste’s hand clasped his. “It was a pleasure to see you again. When you see Grace, tell her…no, sorry. When this is over, I’ll face her myself.”
“When this is over, you and your sister might’ve destroyed Grace’s only safe place in the world,” Theo argued. “You didn’t see her face when I offered her to stay. She was…happy.”
Chaste’s hand landed with a heavy thud on Theo’s shoulder, and the prince said, “I know. As scary as that is for me, I doubt it’s anywhere near as scary as that day was to her.”
“Reckless and na?ve fit together like yeast and winter,” Wen said, eyes pointed sternly at the prince. “Prince or no prince, I know Grace, and she’ll crush you—that is, if she doesn’t do it to protect the town first.”
Chaste faced her with a wide, unfazed smile and seemed to take her in a new light as he looked her up and down. He then faced Theo once more.
“I think you’re rubbing off on your friends, Theo! It’s refreshing to have people talk back at me.”
Lady walked past, entering the Barge with an icy gaze cast in their direction. Chaste looked back, his eyes wide at the sight.
“Or you just have…quite the cast of people around you. Say, all your villagers don’t happen to be of the…highly attractive female persuasion, do they? Like Wen, for instance?”
The brewer perked up but turned away as if spotting something odd in the distance, likely to hide her blush.
Theo laughed. “Not that kind of town we’re going for. To be fair, the average I’ve seen so far, though, is better than back home. Do you know Lady?”
“Theo, don’t join in on his…what even is it, sexism?” Wen complained.
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“Miss Wen, please, it was only a compliment. And Lady, is that what you call, uh…that one?” Chaste pointed towards the doors where the silver-haired woman had entered.
“Aye, that’s Lady. But I’d wager she’s too proper for you, despite yer princeliness.”
Theo observed Wen. Her accent had widened by leagues again. Usually, it was only when she was angry or annoyed. Was it Theo joining the casual talk about women? He could rarely tell with her. He ignored it and just agreed.
“She’s our keeper. And she seems very proper, so I’d listen to Wen before you get any ideas,” he teased.
“Not interested,” Chaste said, voice flat. “I like them fiery.” He winked at Wen, who shrunk under the handsome smile. “But I should be going. I don’t think it’s fair I get to see all your secrets before—” he stopped, looking at two figures on the approach. It was Willam and Julie, holding hands and laughing. “—is that a…Slayer axe?”
Eventually, Chaste did leave, leaving Theo and Wen standing outside, watching him go. With a teasing smile, Theo turned to Wen, bumped her shoulder in a playful way, and said, “So, you moved on pretty quick.”
“Idiot,” she spat and bumped him back. “As if a prince’d be interested in a lowly tavern wench.” Despite her words, she had the faintest of smiles on her face, her lips thinning right at the edges.
“You’re much more than that, Wen. You know it, I know it, he knows it.”
“Oh, now that I told you to pursue someone else, you’re loose with your compliments, huh?” she winked.
“No! I mean, I don’t feel as scared to say the wrong thing anymore, so maybe.” He laughed. “You’re pretty, you’re funny and you’re kind to everyone you meet. If you’re yelling at someone, you’re just doing that for their own good. You’re the greatest friend anyone could wish for, and I love you. Any prince, duke, king, or whatever else would be lucky to have you.”
Her cheeks grew rosy once more, but instead of looking away at the onslaught of compliments like she’d done with Chaste, she grinned as she looked at him.
“You think so?”
“I do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think dinner’s ready and I have another friend to look after. See you later,” he said, then walked away.
“See you,” Wen said aloud as she walked, shifting her torso to the side with a cheerful hum. She whispered, daring herself to speak the words rather than internalise them: “You still have no clue, you absolute idiot.”
Theo entered the tavern, finding wooden plates already filled with food along the kitchen wall. The smell that filled the space was thick with flavour, causing his stomach to twist and twirl inside him. He couldn’t wait to have a proper dinner with spices. No more bare ingredients cooked on primordial fire—in this new era, food was cooked with cookware, drizzled with oil and crusted with herbs.
He tried not to drool as he grabbed a plate with a thick piece of deer meat, its edges blackened to perfection with a sear only a pan could’ve made. Fat glistened as a thin layer of juice surrounding the steak. Next to the steak lay a thick, purple spread reminiscent of jam, but it was silky smooth. It separated the meat from the greens, which comprised a foraged salad mix drizzled with a tangy abble dressing.
Somehow the plate had a beautiful, thin fork and knife, made of polished iron, it looked like. Theo didn’t know where they had come from, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he ignored it as he plucked a second, almost identical plate. This one had no mushrooms in the salad, and in place of the earthy brown nuggets, the salad had a purple tint from a spattering of violetberries contained within.
Carrying both plates and balancing them with ease, Theo once more reminded himself that his body was no longer the sickly weak it had once been, but likely stronger and better than any other body back home. It was easy to forget when everyone else was stronger still.
He walked through the lobby, greeting Lady as she rested against the lobby counter.
“No eating in the rooms.”
Shoulders raised and neck stiffened, Theo nodded, swallowed, and darted up the stairs. Approaching the door to his room—their room—Theo shifted one plate onto his other arm and knocked.
“I brought dinner,” he said. He then considered that Grace might’ve left again, or that she’d gone into another room.
“You can come in,” her muffled voice said.
Unwilling to risk Lady’s wrath, Theo answered, “Uh…how about we eat out here?”
He heard thumps and movement from inside, so he backed away from the door. It opened, revealing a puffy-cheeked, red-eyed Grace. She eyed him, then the plates. Before she asked, Theo mimicked the keeper: “No eating in the rooms.”
Grace looked down the hallway and sighed, stepping out of the room. Theo handed her the plate with the purple salad.
“No mushrooms,” he said.
Accepting the plate, Grace examined the food first, then Theo. “Why?”
“You don’t like the texture. Also, you go through abbles like crazy, so you like everything a bit tangy, and the salad without mushrooms has violetberries in it instead. Win-win, right?”
“Who said I don’t like mushrooms?”
“Your face every time you eat one?”
“Oh…thank you.”
They sat down, backs resting against the wall, and legs spread out across the floor. Theo said nothing else, a mix of not wanting to bother her and not wanting to give this beautiful steak any pause. Even Grace started breathing faster and more heavily as she ate quicker than he’d ever seen.
The steaks were pink in the centre and dripped with juices as they cut or chewed into the meat. Theo recognised a fine layer of salt and pepper hugging the meat tight, but other flavours eluded and confused him. He had no recollection of ever having tasted whatever it was or its equivalent from back home. Brand new flavour profiles, with all new interactions between the salt and the new flavourings. Theo was in heaven.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Theo asked, mouth half-full of mashed salad. Grace had somehow finished the plate already, showing just how far high stats could take you. He was almost finished himself, though.
“For allowing me to wallow. For recognising that I need it.”
“Are you done, then?”
She shifted, bumping into him lightly. “No.”
“Good, so I can finish my plate.”
Bump.
“Not funny,” she smiled.
“I know, this is delicious, so please give me a minute.
Bump.
“Hey, I think the Barge has finally entered the water. Seems to be rough seas—ow!”
“Fine, I’m good, it’s all better, happy now?”
“Yes! Now please let me finish!”
While she laughed, Theo finished the last bites, then took Grace’s plate from her and stacked them, placing them on the floor beside him. She watched him, never looking away, not even when he turned to face her.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m sorry I complicated things with the prince.”
Theo’s voice grew loud as he quaked. “You have nothing to apologise for!”
She leaned towards him, facing the door in front of them instead as her head landed on his shoulder. All he could see of her was her glossy hazel hair. “It was just the one time, but his face burnt itself into my memory. The cellar itself, I scarcely remember, but his face? I think he was telling the truth, but I can’t so much as look at him without this gaping hole opening inside me.”
“I’m glad. Not the horrific part, obviously, but that I can trust him. I’d hate for him to get between us after all he’s done for me.”
“There’s an us?”
Theo would’ve expected a trilling laugh or maybe a teasing prod, but her cadence barely shifted. He smiled.
“Maybe.”
Her hand slid into his.
“Us—you, me…and Wen.”
She pinched the skin between his thumb and index finger, her nails making red marks. “Not funny.”
Theo laughed. At least she realised he made a joke. That was good. When his punishment ended, he got her hand right back into his, then intertwined their fingers so she wouldn’t let go.

