As the ladies departed, the atmosphere in the room seemed to lighten, and Favner sighed deeply with relief. He reached into the pouch attached to his belt and pulled out a flask, which seemed, a little too large to have fit in the space. Uncorking the top, he went to take a sip but paused when he noticed Mythra's gaze.

As if a thought occurred to him, he tilted the flask towards the boy. "Care to join me, Lad?"

Mythra had smelled wine and mead before, but whatever filled the flask carried a distinctly different aroma—it was spicy and pungent. As soon as the dwarf uncorked the flask, the fragrance wafted through the air, permeating the room. Mythra vigorously shook his head, waving his hands in front of him as if the notion of partaking was dangerous. The boy's overreaction elicited a hearty laugh from the dwarf.

"Well then, I guess I'll be toasting myself," Favner proclaimed, lifting the flask slightly towards the sky. "To good health." With that, he tilted the flask back, taking a long, satisfying swig of the mysterious concoction. After wiping his mouth and grunting in satisfaction, Favner re-corked the flask and set it off to the side.

He clapped his hands and continued, "Well then, let's chat, shall we? Tell me, Lad, what do you think of the gods?" Leaning an elbow on the boy's bed and resting his chin in his hands, he gazed at Mythra with extreme curiosity.

Mythra was confused by the question. Why is he asking me this now? He furrowed his brow and tried to make sense of Favner's purpose in asking something so strange.

Observing Mythra's reaction, Favner raised a hand to halt him. "Just because it's a question doesn't mean it's a trick, Lad. Not every question has a right answer. Just speak your mind. What do you think of the gods?"

Mythra paused, his gaze shifting as he gathered his thoughts. He began counting on his fingers, each point punctuated with a gentle tap. "Well, they're really strong and kind," he started, his voice soft yet earnest. "They made everything around us so we can live and be happy. They're super powerful and do things in really mysterious ways." Imitating Favner's thoughtful stance, Mythra lifted his hand to rest against his chin, his eyes lighting up as if he'd just recalled something important. Raising one more finger, he added, "Oh, and Mom always says never to upset or offend them." After a final brief pause, he nodded, satisfied with his answer.

Favner gave the boy a gentle smile and began to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "A fine answer, Lad. But let me ask you another question: Why was their strength the first thing that came to your mind when you thought of them?"

Mythra arched a puzzled brow. "Because… they're really strong?"

Favner chuckled. "So, are you implying that gods can't be weak?"

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The question made the boy falter. "I... I suppose not? Can they?"

Without a word, Favner rose from the bed and walked over to the bedside window, Mythra's gaze trailing him, still puzzled by the dwarf's behavior. From there, Favner surveyed the people below.

"Look at them all," he gestured to the masses. "They all live out their lives thinking exactly as you do, Boy. If I ask them about the gods, the first thing they'll mention is the gods' power. But if I press them on why, they stumble. The answer is obvious; even a child could grasp it; same as you did. 'It's 'because they're really strong'. Their strength defines their essence. The very statement of their power is the answer to any doubt regarding it."

Favner began to pace back and forth, his steps echoing softly in the room as he lectured like a schoolteacher.

"The power of a god is something beyond understanding; that's why the gods are mysterious. Their powers are so vast that the only explanation for why they allow us to exist on Gaea while they float in the worlds above is thanks to their kindness. Their powers are so terrifying that we must never upset or offend them, lest we become their targets."

He stopped his pacing, turning to face Mythra with a serious expression.

"But how do those people out there know that? Do you think any of them have ever met a god? Have any of them experienced a god's might?" Favner shook his head incredulously. "Of course, they haven't."

He raised a finger and looked at Mythra with a hint of madness. "So, you may be asking, why do they spout such drivel, why do we all say such things? The answer is simple, Boy. It's because power is the pursuit that leads us."

Taking a deep breath, Favner continued, "What I offer you today is no miracle, no potion, no salvation. I offer you power." The gravity of his words hung heavily in the air. "Power that will draw the gods' attention. Power, that will set you apart from them." Favner made a sharp sweeping gesture towards the window; towards the people who went about their lives, oblivious to the forces beyond their understanding.

Gently lowering his hand and loosening his posture, Favner closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. He took a slow, deep, steadying breath.

When he lowered his gaze, the madness had vanished, replaced by a solemn and composed demeanor. "I can show you a path, Lad, but it's full of peril. It will change who you are, and you'll have no guide, for none have ever seen its end. However, I promise you, it will alter your fate. You'll no longer walk among the masses, you'll stride among the chosen few. You'll pursue the same heights as the gods themselves. As I said to you earlier, there is always a way. My only question is, are you willing to take it?"

Mythra pondered Favner's words, his gaze drifting to his legs. Power; follow the same path as the gods. What type of words are these? Is he playing a prank?

He looked up at Favner with doubt clouding his expression, "Is all that you said… truly possible? You offered me power. But what power? How do you know of this power? How can you give it to me? Mr. Favner, I just want to walk again. You said you can make that happen. Can you please explain things more clearly?"

Favner gave Mythra a long, silent stare before responding, "You're wise, Lad. Far wiser than a child your age has the right to be." He placed a warm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Wisdom is a virtue, it will serve you well to have it, but it can become a hindrance if it binds you. Mortals are meant to move forward, Lad. Time is our most precious commodity; don't allow wisdom to squander it. Sometimes, it's better to follow the heart's folly than the mind's prudence. Tell me what your heart desires, and I will address your mind's concerns."

Mythra's gaze returned to his legs, still limp and unresponsive. Frustration tightened his grip on the bedsheets, his knuckles pale with tension. "I want to walk… no, I want to run. I… want to climb trees. I want to explore the world. I want to help Mother and the other sisters." Memories of his forest encounter and the vivid dream he awoke from flooded his mind. "I want courage, and I want freedom. I want… choice." He locked eyes with Favner once more, determination sparking within him. "If power can grant me those things, then I want power."

Favner's lips curved into a sly grin. "Now, that's an answer, Lad. A fine answer."