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B3. Chapter 25. Overwhelmed.

Chapter 25

Overwhelmed

Brewer’s Reputation: 1,140.

Dream Cutter Stone Shard Quest: 13,300/15,000 shards.

In lieu of lunch, we cut onto the Beyond the Cabin ethereal plane to complete our daily batches of goblin spit beer. Ethereal Forged Labels made it easier to manage inventory. Although I could not brew nearly as fast or as much as Abigail could at one time, I was able to brew more and more everyday.

Despite the fact that Abigail was helping me brew something as weird as goblin spit beer, all her gold rank skills had leveled above 3500. She was more than halfway to diamond rank. But over and over she said it would take a lot more than grinding skill to break into diamond.

When we brewed together, our ranks didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Gold, silver, diamond; it was spending mana together that mattered. Sharing the brewing experience together. When we collaborated, it was like dancing.

When we finished our daily batch of goblin spit beer, and after I’d spent some time forgin ethereal ingredients and arranging newly filled barrels in line, we ambled around the log house and took in the new sights.

The ground of sand and sumac leaves had expanded. Everything expanded. The raining leaves now drifted through the air miles away. The woven ball of oak trees, still dripping with moss, expanded outward. The ball was now several layers deep. They were their own woods. More moss dripped from every branch and fissure of bark. There was so much moss, no matter where I turned, it all looked like seaweed underwater. And because the moss searched in every direction for gravity, they flagged like seaweed.

The flowers had all covered distances beyond the sand. Their roots tangled with each other to form a new ground and they seemed sustained by the atmosphere. They thrived!

When we returned to the doorless log house, Dellia descended from above. She appeared as an outline of a woman. Her hair was big and also outlined. Her facial features could not be seen; they could be felt. And in her outline I could see the cosmos.

Abigail gasped and grabbed my hand. I think she was startled. I wanted to hold her hand in return, but-

“My dear Hawkin,” Dellia said. “…You must be Abigail.”

“Abigail Yak, Dellia Lucerne; Dellia, Abigail.”

“A pleasure,” Abigail said.

“Come fly with me,” Dellia said to me. Then to Abigail, “we won’t be long.”

That’s how I came to miss Abigail’s hand for the first time. Dellia led our flight out into the atmosphere. She took us on an orbital flight around the oak.

At last she turned, flying backward, and said, “produce as much of your mausoleum beer as you can. Bring it to market.”

“My Loved Ones Mausoleum beer.”

“Dellia Lucerne’s Loved Ones Mausoleum beer. They must have my name. Especially these ones.”

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“For grievers like Corylus. Like Hiccup.”

“You know what this means.”

I’ll have to brew libation beers with people’s remains and animal remains.”

“Think of the joy you will bring people,” the goddess said. “The world will be begging my name. They come and worship me already.”

“A lot of people have lost loved ones,” I said.

“It will be a lot of labor. You will never catch up.”

“Many people will never get a chance to reunite.”

“You turned down a quest to hire Dream Cutters. They would have helped you.”

“That quest was to help me build kingdoms on ethereal planes.”

“My point is that they will help you,” she said.

“Too many people.”

“How can you say no to giving people one more day with their loved ones?”

“…I can’t. You’re forcing my hand.”

Dellia slowed our pace. She came closer and spoke intimately. “If you didn’t care, you would decline this opportunity and you would not feel forced.”

“How can I say no?”

“Reconsider that quest you declined.”

Suddenly, her body and hair of cosmos was no longer. Then her outline broke like melting thread.

I flew down to rejoin Abigail. We returned to our hike in the northern woods and continued our hike in the drizzle. I relayed the conversation I had with Dellia.

“I need to figure out how I’m going to manage all this,” I said. “I can only do so much.”

“The horrible thing is I can’t help you.”

“I appreciate the thought.”

“I can’t be the one to transport things back and forth. It would be exhausting beyond measure. I wish I could help you brew those libation beers. That’s what I mean.”

“You can. I use simple skills for those beers: Brewer’s Bubble, Hop Wallop, Kiss of Yeast…”

“That’s what I’ll do,” Abigail said. “That sounds delightful.”

“I’ll have to be the one to use Alchemical Control. And if you can’t use those skills with forged ethereal ingredients, then we’ll figure something else out. Maybe you can use Foam Cascade subskills.”

“How will you get these remains? When will you brew these beers?”

“Thrush?” I said.

“He’s gone missing, hasn’t he.”

“What other way is there?”

“These mausoleum beers will go to market?”

“Depends on Hiccup. They’re not really made for leisure.”

“Hiccup will not say no,” she said.

“What am I supposed to do?—Leave a sign by a pile on the mausoleum plane that says ‘Leave your remains here. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can’?”

“I don’t know,” Abigail said softly.

“I can’t do that.”

“You can’t do that.”

“And when this beer hits market, what is it going to be—First come, first serve? What if its priced too high for some folks?”

“I wish I had answers,” Abigail said like she was in pain.

I stopped and gestured at nothing. I heaved a deep and heavy sigh. This was all too much for me.

“Hawkin?”

I rubbed my hands in my face and groaned like I had to roll a 15.5 filled gallon uphill for miles in the mud. I stared off into the woods. Rain water cascaded down my face, my shoulders, my clothes.

“Are you all right?” Abigail said.

I closed my eyes. I tilted my head back to see the sky and canopy.

“How can I not give to others what I gave to Corylus and Ethan?” I breathed.

I felt arms around me. I looked down, but suddenly my chin was atop Abigail’s head, on her wet hair. She hugged me fiercely and I had to step back to brace myself.

“I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to see these reunions. It will kill me. Every one will break my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll do it, but I can’t be there to see things happen.”

In the cold of the constant drizzle, I had only the warmth of her hug. I held her to my chest.