Wyn wasn’t a pacer. When something was bothering him, he usually liked to work it out in one of two ways: training, or baking. He and Corrin had already cleared the dungeon, and today was his day off from training, so he was taking it easy.
He’d never learned much more than the basics, despite his upbringing, but the scent of baking bread still helped clear his head. Well, that came later: he took the poured half of the starter dough from the last batch and mixed it in with his current mix. He fed it more water and flour before putting it away. His father had always said that a good starter was one of the most important parts of running a bakery like theirs.
One day you’ll find your own flavor. If you’re going to run this place, the starter of the bread should be yours, not mine, he’d said.
Eventually, Wyn had learned about yeast in the library, and figured it all out in a more technical sense. But the process was the same. He mixed in the starter dough with water, and some more flour he’d bought from the miller earlier that day.
His father may not be happy about it, but Wyn had never had the heart to change the starter. He was still baking the same bread as back then. In a way, it was one of the few things he had left from his father.
He rolled up his sleeves and began kneading the dough. He’d done this so many times he hardly had to think, mixing it thoroughly while his mind wandered. Once they’d actually set out to do so, he and Corrin had made their way out of the first floor fairly quickly. If they could keep that pace up, they could more than clear the dungeon in time. Of course, it wouldn’t be so simple.
Even just going from the first floor to the second, the strength of the monsters had jumped a fair bit. If he had to guess, the average monster on the second floor was half again as strong as one on the first. If that pattern continued, their pace would slow considerably as they got lower and lower, and it was impossible to know how many floors the dungeon had. On top of the strength of monsters, they had an advantage on the first floor of knowing where not to look. Dead end corridors had already been mapped, and they knew exactly which directions had yet to be explored. When it came to the second floor, they’d have to wander around aimlessly while they searched.
Maybe there was some pattern to it? Even a naturally forming cave would follow some sort of pattern of formation, but dungeons didn’t seem entirely natural to Wyn. There was something different about them, the way that they were structured and operated, something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.
Well, that wouldn’t go anywhere without at least a map for him to look at, so it wasn’t worth bothering with now.
Wyn sighed, realizing he’d finished all the prep work while lost in thought. It’d be an hour or two before the dough was finished rising and ready to go in the oven, so he covered it and placed it on the counter before washing his hands off in the basin, reminding himself to empty and refill it later.
He found himself leaving home and just wandering around the town aimlessly. Even if he didn’t like to walk out his thoughts, it was better than nothing. The summer sun beat down on him, the current heat wave enough to keep most inside unless they had to be elsewhere, which meant the streets were fairly empty.
His line of thought shifted towards Corrin’s departure. It made sense he’d feel unhappy about it, they’d been friends for so long now, they were more like brothers at this point, so of course Wyn would miss him. Something else was bothering him though, ever since Corrin had brought up that old promise, he felt a sort of longing for it.
He didn’t want to be a spirit knight anymore, he had to stay in Straetum and protect what was left of his family. But maybe he was just wistful for the times before… before things had changed. When they were younger, things were so simple. It was easy to say he was going to do the impossible, consequences be damned. He hadn’t known back then: hadn’t really understood how dangerous the world was. Was he supposed to go across the continent, leaving his family to fend for themselves, all the while he’d probably be dying off in some battle they’d never even hear about?
As he walked past one of the taverns, a voice called out from inside, Elder Terris was sitting on a stool at the bar with a drink in hand.
“Are you already done for the day? Come have a drink with me boy!” He said happily.
Wyn smiled softly and walked inside, “Drinking this early in the day? I see retirement is treating you nicely Elder Terris.”
The larger man laughed heartily at that, “Well I can’t disagree with that. But as it turns out, the bars are much quieter around this time of day. It’s honestly a little boring.” He gestured around the place, which was mostly empty save for a few characters.
Wyn took a seat next to Elder Terris, prompting the bartender, a younger man in his 20s, to walk over. He began refilling the elder’s glass.
“Get him something strong,” Elder Terris said, “He looks like he could use it. Put it on my tab.”
The bartender smirked, “You don’t have a tab sir, you know you don’t pay for drinks here.”
“Well, I’ll pay for him anyways, I just wanted to say it…” Elder Terris grumbled. The bartender walked off chuckling.
Wyn raised an eyebrow at his mentor “You don’t pay for drinks here? Also, what makes you think I need to get drunk right now?”
Elder Terris shrugged, “I saved the boy back during the dungeon flood, his father owned the place at the time, and they haven’t had me pay since. To answer your other question, you’ve clearly got something on your mind. You’re not the type to wander around for no reason, and I watched you pass by twice before I called you over, so I know you weren’t running an errand. Plus, you had a weird look on your face.”
Wyn was a little thrown off by that, “Did I really have a weird look?”
His drink arrived quickly as the bartender didn’t have anyone else to serve. Wyn took a sip and recoiled. Spirits! That man didn’t hold back, that was like fire going down his throat.
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Elder Terris burst out laughing at his reaction, “For all that freakish strength the two of you have, I figured you’d just down it like nothing! That was so much better.” He slapped the bar as he calmed down.
Wyn glared at him, “Yeah yeah, laugh it up, I wasn’t ready for it is all.”
“Oh, I’m sure. Make sure to drink up, that’s some good stuff, and not cheap.”
Wyn clicked his tongue and took another sip, managing to, mostly, keep a straight face the second time.
“Well anyways…” Elder Terris started, “Getting back on track, you did have a weird look, but I doubt anybody other than me or your mother would’ve noticed. If I hadn’t known you for as long as I have, I wouldn’t have seen it.”
“See that just sounds like you’re making things up,” Wyn said.
“Well maybe I am.” The older man quieted. “Would you like to talk about it son?”
Wyn set down the drink, tapping his finger on the counter, “Let’s say, hypothetically, Elder Irym needed your help with something dangerous, maybe impossible… and even if you help him–”
Elder Terris held up a hand, and Wyn paused, “If you come to me for advice, just tell me the situation straight Wyn. I would hope we’ve known each other long enough for that.”
Wyn sighed, “Corrin wants to go to Taravast, and he wants to clear the dungeon before he goes.”
Elder Terris raised an eyebrow, “I see. And what about you? Are you planning to go with him?”
“Well—” Wyn hesitated. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He’d thought Elder Terris would tell him it was too dangerous, or that he was an idiot to even try. “I can’t go. I have responsibilities here. Obviously if he wants to go, I want to help… but—”
“He’s your friend, so you’re sad he’s going. I get it.”
“...I shouldn’t feel that way, I should be happy for him. And, I am! Don’t get me wrong, he’s doing what he wants to do. But something about it is just nagging at me.”
“Who’s to say what you should and shouldn’t feel, Wyn? You’re human, just like the rest of us. We don’t get to choose those things. You’re not a bad person for thinking that way, no one is. I think the fact that you actually can be happy about it is amazing.” He sighed, “But I don’t think him leaving is why you feel that way.”
“What do you mean? What else is there for me to be sad about?”
Elder Terris reached over and ruffled Wyn’s hair, “For someone so smart, you sure can be an idiot. You two freaks really are human huh.”
“Very helpful,” Wyn grumbled.
The retired warrior chuckled, “Have I ever been one to give you all the answers Wyn? If I told you everything it would stunt your growth. It’s harder to develop a good feel for your emotions once you’re an old-ass like me; better to learn it while you’re young. Then again, if it got to the point where I had to step in, I would. But I’m confident you’ll figure it out on your own.”
Elder Terris leaned back in his chair and took another drink.
“So just… wait and see? I’ll figure it out eventually? That’s it?”
“Fine fine, you want some advice, don’t you? Then here it is. Be more selfish Wyn. Think more selfishly. You could stand to do so every now and then.”
“You give terrible advice,” Wyn said. “What kind of adult tells a kid to be more selfish?”
“Ah, but you’re not a kid, are you? You’re a full-grown adult now,” there was a teasing tone in his voice, and his face had a hint of humor on it. “Besides, you’re not asking the right question. The real question is, what kind of kid needs to be told that? Honestly, you’re hopeless.”
Wyn ordered a snack, and they drank some more, as Wyn contemplated what his mentor had said. Despite everything, he really did respect the man, and his advice hadn’t steered him wrong so far. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, just talking about the problem, putting it into words, did make him feel a bit better.
He sure is drinking a lot today. Wyn noticed, as Elder Terris put down the fourth drink Wyn had seen just since arriving. The elder’s cheeks had turned a bright red and he was clearly more than a little tipsy. Wyn had drunk a few himself, but the older man must’ve oversold its potency, as he didn’t feel a thing. Then again, he’d never really noticed the effects of alcohol, even when he’d had more to drink. He seemed to have an unusually high tolerance for the stuff.
It was strange though, Terris tried to avoid getting drunk anymore outside of special occasions. Well, that and–
“Oh,” Wyn realized, his tone getting softer, “It’s today, isn’t it?”
The older man froze, then his hand trembled slightly, “Yes.”
Wyn fell silent for some time. They each took another sip of their drinks. “Would you like me to visit with you?”
Terris’ face was hard to see, but his eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly, “Yeah. That might be nice.”
A little while later, after paying for Wyn’s food and drinks, the two of them got up to leave. It was a short walk to the outside of town, and they made the journey without speaking. The sun had fallen in the sky, the passage of time waiting for no one. Still, the town remained quiet, as its residents gathered to eat and spend time with their families.
The town cemetery awaited them just beyond the church. It had grown significantly since the dungeon flood six years prior. They’d had to put together a whole separate wing to accommodate the scores of names engraved there.
However, he and Elder Terris’ current destination was just past those, a slightly earlier site. Wyn had only been there once before, so he let the older man lead the way, his eyes constantly glancing towards the direction of his own father’s headstone. Maybe he’d stop by after this, it had been too long since he’d talked to him. A minute later, they arrived.
Two headstones, side by side. On the larger was a woman’s name, and on the smaller, a boy’s. Elder Terris bent down, placing a lone flower at the foot of each one.
He didn’t rise, his shoulders simply began to shake.
Wyn placed a hand on his mentor’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“Thank you Wyn.” He managed, and Wyn could only nod.
***
Wyn arrived home late after helping Elder Terris get back safely. The bread he’d set out had risen by then, so he took it off the counter and put it in the oven, sitting at the table while it baked.
Elder Terris usually gave straight advice, but he could be annoyingly cryptic from time to time, and Wyn just wished he could’ve said what he was thinking. He replayed the conversation a few times in his head to no avail. It was useless to think about, so he changed gears to planning their next dungeon excursion instead.
Around when he thought it would be done, Wyn inspected the oven and saw that the bread had collapsed a bit, its structure too weak. He sighed and pulled it out anyways. Just as he was breaking off a chunk to eat it, his mother walked downstairs and into the kitchen, presumably having just seen Elry off to bed.
“I noticed that dough earlier, did you make enough for me too?” She smiled, and he tore off a second piece for her.
“How was your day sweetie?” His mother asked as they sat to eat. She took the chair next to him.
“It was alright, I guess… Nothing crazy to say, I talked to Elder Terris, that was about it.”
He took a bite of the bread. It was sour. “Mom, I should warn you. This isn’t very good. I was gone too long while it was rising.”
She took a testing bite herself, “Wow yeah I can see that.” She laughed.
Wyn took another bite, he wondered how many times his father had messed up like this when he’d been learning. How many times had he messed up a recipe before Wyn was old enough to tell? He should’ve asked while he was at the cemetery, maybe he would’ve gotten an answer.
Wyn felt his cheeks grow slightly damp. He took another bite.
His mother noticed, and her eyes softened. “Wyn, sweetie what’s wrong?” She reached over, running a hand through his hair.
A tear dropped onto the piece of bread in his hand, moistening it. “I just miss him.”
His mother wrapped him in a gentle hug, like he was just a boy again, a small, helpless child, crying into his mother’s arms. “I know.”
Wyn kept eating, and the tears kept coming.
The bread was just so bad.