Chapter 54

Something Done is a Thing that’s Done.

Brewer’s Reputation: 621.

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

I felt much better, late evening, after a bowl of onion soup and a bowl of tomato soup. A layer of embers hissed and glowed in the new stove. Abigail finished another batch of beers that went toward completing her Thewwy’s Puncheon tap quest. She remarked that she had around 5,800 more bottles to go.

I fetched a couple of sticky stones of resin from our new storage shed and placed them on the embers of the stove. Aromas of pine, pine needle covered earth, and something like myrrh filled the cabin.

“How often do you burn resin?” said Abigail.

“As often as I have the supply. More often in the summer than in the fall and winter. It used to keep the insects away before your Sheltering attributes did the trick. Now I just love the smell.”

Abigail poured us a beer from the batch she had just brewed.

[Teff-initely Tasty.]

[Hoppy Crisp Ale.]

[Gold Rank. 25/100 Mythic.]

[An excellent entry in the Mythic quality tier, this fine ale carries a strong undertone of fire roasted acorns. Blue Ankor hops offer fruity esters of blueberry and black currants. Yak hops offer notes of citrus and sweetgrass. The foam is Angel’s Pillow. Ribbons of blueberry honey stripe the beer.]

After the first sip, I was floored. The foam was the softest I’d ever had. The experience was dream-like and I questioned for a moment whether I was really tasting such a phenomenal beer. I was honored to add this to my Collector’s Journal.

Judging by her reaction, I think Abigail surprised herself. We discussed the beer and talked shop for a time before she pulled out a notebook, quill, and ink. She told me about all the things she wanted to do the next day as she wrote them down.

“Have you always planned out your days like this?” I said.

“I used to be quite busy when I first reached gold rank. It was the best way to organize my schedule. So much so that I still use it, even for mundane things.”

Burning resin and planning days weren’t the only thing we learned about each other. I asked to join Abigail when she began a stretching routine before bed. She told me she inherited the routine from a few other Brewers when she was grinding levels day after day. It helped shed excess energy and tension before bed.

She seemed surprised when she saw me wash my face with cold water, especially since I had the Fire and Roast skill to heat the water. I told her that my grandfather used to shave with cold water and it just always reminded me of him. When he used to shave, it sounded like someone was running their thumb along the tines of a comb. Abigail shuddered.

In bed, sitting against the wall, I showed Abigail all the notches I made on the wall. Each one was small as an eyelash. She ran her finger over the notches. When she asked why, I told her that I counted the days.

And later when a fresh heap of kindling was added to the stove for another half hour of light to read by, Abigail closed her book and lay down to stare up at the ceiling. I watched the shadows of the stove grate bend and lurch on the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“Just…existing for a moment.”

I looked back up at the ceiling. After a moment, I closed my Collector’s Journal and scooted down to lay beside her and stare at the ceiling with her.

Our front door was open and a breeze came in and made the shadows dance. I leaned up on an elbow and watched the dark night through the door. I listened to the wind and the rustle of nature. An owl repeated itself.

Stolen novel; please report.

Abigail took my free hand and clasped it over her belly. Her eyes were half closed. Her breathing steadied and I felt the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing became free and slow and deep. Within the hour, she closed her eyes. I slipped my hand out from hers and lay back to stare at the ceiling for just a bit more.

∞

Abigail and I sipped the ethereal Home Camp beer. We hovered up to the stump beside the cold fire pit. The iridescent atmosphere of the plane quietly morphed like the shifting of clouds.

“Do you think Barnacle-eyes visited?” said Abigail.

“It’s strange not having her around.”

“I could go for another one of her rambles.”

“Those were the best,” I said. “She loved talking about Slime-tooth. Always missed him.”

“Is he her father?”

I mulled that over for a moment. I recalled conversations with Barnacle-eyes. “We talked about that every now and then. She started calling him ‘like-a-father’ after she grew interested in the idea of a goblin family.”

“I wonder if any goblin knows their parents.”

“I imagine they must without realizing it. From everything I learned, it’s a village-raised scenario. Camaraderie and chain of command are more important to them.”

“I don’t buy it,” said Abigail. “It’s more likely that goblins are forced into labor—coerced.”

“I think that’s why Barnacle-eyes is so fond of Slime-tooth. I don’t think he ever asked her for anything.”

Abigail chuckled. “I loved hearing all of Slime-tooth’s proverbs. They were absolutely wild, and often made little sense.”

“Like the rules of shipbuilding: Work as fast as you can and keep adding things until it floats.”

“Well, Gloom-glower’s fleet is still treading water.”

“True; they made it work. Barnacle-eyes’ ship on the other hand…”

“What did she say when she used to drop for naps?” said Abigail. “It made me crave naps every once in a while.”

I searched my memories. Drop was the correct word to use. Barnacle-eyes used to stop whatever it was she was doing and lay down—no matter where—to sleep. She would say…she would say…

I snapped my fingers. “Sleep when you’re tired; work when you're tired.”

“That’s it! It made me realize how much I overwork myself at times—both you and I. It’s a wonderful saying if you think about it.”

“We all work too hard.”

“I think we do, and I think we owe it to ourselves to take things a little easy sometimes.”

But it was at that moment that Abigail brought out a few ingredients to brew beer with. Judging by the sorghum, she wanted to contribute another batch of alternative grain beers towards her Thewwy’s Puncheon Tap quest. I pointed out the irony.

She cackled. “I know, I know—I just started thinking about work in general, all the things I wanted to accomplish. And it’s still early in the day.”

“There’s another one she used to repeat all the time,” I said. “About eating. Eat if you can? Then eat some more?”

“Oh I know this one. Barnacle-eyes said it was one of Slime-tooth’s more common proverbs. ‘Eat if you can; eat if you can’t.”

“According to Barnacle-eyes, Slime-tooth used to always follow that up with sharing jellyfish or dried rat meat.”

“He had another proverb for that,” said Abigail.

I racked my brain. From Abigail’s silence, I could tell she was trying to recollect the saying as well. After a moment, she returned to finishing her sorghum beer. She began donating bottle after bottle toward the shard quest. When she asked me if I wanted to share one, it struck me.

“Sharing feels like giving things away, but it’s not, it’s sharing.”

Suddenly we both recalled a ton of Slime-tooth’s proverbs, as repeated by Barnacle-eyes. Some of them made absolutely no sense. Others were simple. A couple of them contained deep, wordly insight:

A goblin never knows who they might be tomorrow. Our only guess, based on the little we knew about goblins, was that goblins could be bailing buckets one day, and become a captain the very next day. The proverb was about jobs, we surmised, until Abigail mentioned that Barnacle-eyes couldn’t have gotten her name before she had been attacked by a saw. Thus, the proverb could be about the literal identity of the goblins, depending on their life circumstances. And maybe their names weren’t up to them. Maybe their names were communally, subconsciously agreed on.

And goblins that remember to never forget to remember, sometimes always remember. Without a doubt, that was our favorite. We even shortened it to ‘Goblins that remember, remember’; but it didn’t have the same twisted appeal as the original.

“Delivery days were her favorite days,” Abigail said.

“Because there was always a chance to see Slime-tooth. She used to ask to borrow garlic and onions to give to him.”

“The way she talked about him, I think he meant a lot to her.”

“I have a feeling she meant a lot to him too.” I said.

“See if she’s written you,” said Abigail, gesturing to the journal on the stump.

I opened the journal to the second page. “She did! She wrote me a letter. She says that she’s amassing a crew of goblins.”

“She’s gathering her family members.”

I flipped to the next page to write her back. I paused. “She wrote a letter to Slime-tooth…”

Abigail came over. “Oh I think this might be private. Let’s not read it.”

“Why did she write it here?”

“Did you tell her she could write to Slime-tooth in there?”

“I never mentioned it.”

“Maybe she thinks you’ll pass it on for her.”

“I don’t think Barnacle-eyes thinks that way,” I said. “But let’s do that. Let’s enclose it and give it to Slime-tooth.”