Sugar wasn’t enough to counter too much salt. You also needed starch. I sought out Chester. I didn’t need stats or skill ups half as much as I needed friends. I found him fixing the chicken coop, a job I’d refused the previous day because I’d wanted the time to hunt. I’d given him silver instead. Money didn’t make friends and the extra bartering point hadn’t been worth Chester’s gruff attitude since.

Chester had not wanted to fix the chicken coop himself. I could hear him swearing halfway down the path. I berated myself and my hard heart. Before I walked around the last bend, I took a deep breath of humility.

Chester stood with half the chicken wire wrapped around his feet, one finger stuck in his mouth and the other dropping a hammer that belonged in the forge. I ruthlessly bit back my chuckle, smothering my smile with thoughts of remorse. It almost worked until Chester noticed me and swore even more. I’d never heard him get that graphic before.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

“I’m sorry,” I tried, casting heal on his hand.

“Go away,” Chester growled, and I’d never seen him so gruff. The Chester I’d known had a sense of humor that had often brought me out of the dark when Lift Spirits was just a useless tingle of nothing.

“Really, I’m sorry,” my smile died. I cast a buff and Lift Spirits at him, but I could tell that it wasn’t working for him any more than it worked for me. An antidepressant could only battle errant hormonal imbalances. It couldn’t tame feelings of betrayal or of grief. Feelings were natural things that had to be worked through, not just chemicals the body produced.

“I don’t need your spells,” Chester grunted, but at least he wasn’t swearing at me anymore.

“I think you do,” I tried to tease him a little, but it fell flat. I hadn’t earned his humor.

“Just leave me alone,” Chester groaned out. “Your chickens are coming. It’ll be done by then.”

“At least let me try,” I told him. I chewed on my lip, looking around for inspiration. He was well and truly tangled in the wire mesh in a way I wasn’t sure my spells could repair but I was willing to try.

“What’s it going to cost me?” he pursed his lips at me. I cast a repair spell at some of the wire, but it only caused it to more robustly confine his legs. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” I called out, pulling on the mesh to unwind it and only getting it tighter.

“That’s not helping,” and he was right. I wasn’t helping.

“Pull it this way,” Terra flicked her tail. I followed her directions. It turned out we were both too close to the problem when I was pulling. The wire mesh pulled away from his legs.

“I can help,” I told Chester. “And it won’t cost you a thing.”

“You were too busy to help before,” Chester unwound a piece of wood from the wire, his tone bitter. “What changed?”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed out, casting repair on the singed door and then on what was left of the frame Chester had been trying to disassemble so he could rebuild it. It was actually worse than if I’d done it from the beginning. “I just got through apologizing to Lily, and I came to talk to you too.”

Chester just gave a grunt as I pulled out my woodworking tools. He had given me all the tools I’d asked for and then when he’d asked for help, I’d gruffly told him I was going to be too busy.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to fix this alone,” I admitted, picking up a few nails that had scattered on the ground, probably having fallen out of Chester’s pockets. “You’d already helped me out so much, and you were doing me another favor by getting the livestock for us. The least I could do was help you make room for them.”

“I hate woodworking,” Chester kicked at a rock to get it back to where it probably should have been. “And this wire is just not metal to me. It’s too flimsy. Give me a solid metal frame any day and I’d be fine, but this stuff is wood.”

“Why is it wood anyway, if the chickens spit fire?” I asked, nailing two pieces of the frame together. It wasn’t pretty but I could repair it into better once I had a basic frame up.

“The wood is specially enchanted for the stupid chickens,” Chester told me, moving to hold a piece of wood I was having trouble with. “They like to rub against real wood. They won’t produce eggs without it. The wood is mostly fire-resistant, but it isn’t weather resistant and runs down easily in the rain.”

“Ah,” I hammered and cast. Chester and I fell into a rhythm. It took some talking and most of my eighteen charm, but he warmed up to me as we worked together. By the time the chicken coop was ready for chickens, the sun was nearing the mountain.

“Thanks bud,” Chester swung an arm over my shoulder, and I struggled to smile at him. “Let’s go grab a drink at the tavern to celebrate! I thought I’d be working on that for two whole days.”

I didn’t answer, but I let him steer me toward the inn. It was early enough that the coach wouldn’t be in yet, but in less than an hour, Beau would be here. I didn’t have time for a drink.

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“If the grub is as good as yesterday, we could celebrate over that too,” Chester gave me a cheerful nudge.

“Maybe we should get cleaned up first,” I suggested, knowing I had a little work to do in the kitchen before the coach arrived. I could have cast a clean spell on the both of us, but I needed a little time.

“Okay,” Chester frowned a little and I tried to smile to keep our camaraderie going.

“I feel gritty, and a little bit sick,” I admitted. “Can we catch dinner tomorrow night, maybe?”

“Sure,” Chester agreed but I could see that I’d damaged our budding bromance.

“I heard there will be a bard in town tonight,” I tried to ease the tension.

“Really?”

“I don’t want to cause a scene,” I said. Now that the moment was upon me, it felt wrong somehow. I’d planned to face off with Beau tonight instead of letting him get the tavern warmed up to him. I’d wanted to change things up and even knowing I was stronger than ever, I felt the need to run instead of fight. Was it instinct? Was it wibbly wobbly time travel stuff? Was it just fear of confrontation and of somehow screwing it up this time? Whatever it was, I was listening. Something in my gut said not to face Beau tonight and it was strong enough for me to run for the hills until it let up.

“We don’t get dueling bards often,” Chester looked to his shuffling feet, and I wondered at his phrasing. It resonated with my run-for-the-hills gut feelings.

“I don’t want to…” I couldn’t finish it without saying too much or lying. I wasn’t willing to do either, so I let the phrase hang in the silence.

“I’ll go check in with Lily,” Chester said at the well and we parted.

Even if Chester and Lily forgot me tomorrow, I knew I was the person I wanted to be. I might have been a neurotic mess, but I was kind at heart and I tried very hard to do the right thing. I wondered if I was a paladin and shook off the abhorrent thought with a kicked pebble. I shuddered at the thought of having to choose which was worse, paladin or bard.

I ducked into my kitchen but kept a sharp ear out for the coach. I replaced the fruit pies with the meat pies and let them crisp up. I cast my Freshen spell on everything, including all the stuff I’d make up for the next day. I hurried through the tasks of overnight oats and cleaning everything.

“Mabel,” I called into the tavern while I cast yet another clean spell at myself.

“What?” Mabel stuck her head in with a huff.

“I have to go out tonight,” I stated firmly, knowing she’d be a grump about it. What wasn’t she a grump about?

“Huh?” Mabel huffed herself through the doorway to scowl at me.

“I’ve fixed it all up so that if I’m not back, you can serve the second pot of stew tomorrow night,” I rattled off the instructions without giving her a chance to protest. I almost had it figured out. The engine didn’t like cheaters. Beau was here early so I was being given the chance to make more space.

“Where are you going?” Mabel accused me as if she’d asked if I was quitting or if I’d ever be back. I ducked into the pantry and emptied my inventory of forest loot, tucking it behind things in case Mabel decided to poke around for a snack or two while I was gone.

“I’ll be back,” I promised, scooting across the kitchen to take Mabel’s hand and look her firmly in the eyes. “I’ll be back, but in case it takes longer than I thought, I left you plenty to serve so you don’t have to cook.”

With that, I left Mabel sputtering protests that didn’t form into words. I didn’t think anything I did would help Mabel love me, but I didn’t have to make it worse. I skirted the well and ducked into the darkening forest. I thought I heard the jangle of coach livery, but it was probably my imagination.

“Where are we going?” Terra asked in my mind. She’d been so good about going with the flow of everything so far, but I could tell that the darkening forest worried her.

“There are dungeons in those hills,” I replied, screwing up my courage. I had the stats and skills, but it was new.

“Dungeons?” Terra leapt into the branches and practiced her agility jumping from one tree to another. “Beau will grow in skills and levels if we go too long.”

“I’m not looking to get ahead of him anymore,” I admitted, quickly ducking branches. I wanted to get to the hills before it became too dark.

“Then why are we running?” Terra asked, keeping up with my pace.

“I’m not running from Beau,” I sighed, looking at the map in my tabs. I’d never been out to the dungeons in these hills. I hadn’t chosen that storyline before. “I’m running from the next quest.”

“Oh,” she said, but I could tell she didn’t follow my reasoning. That was good because I didn’t want the engine to be getting it either. The engine was letting me run because Beau had broken the rules and gotten to me in a third of the time I should have had to prepare, but it was not my friend. It just wanted a bigger epic battle.

I focused on the hills and purged the rest from my mind. I could tell that Terra was trying to figure it out, but she was also not trying too hard. She was afraid of this new path and her fear affected me, but I checked the slowly darkening sky and the map and hoped. I oriented myself on the torch-lit entrances to the dungeon caves in the distance and then dove into my character sheet, trying to think strategically.

Name: Karma

Class: Mage-ish

Level: 5 (210/1800)

Profession: Cook (Level 5: 310/1800), Storyteller (Level 3: 20/800), Singer (Level 2: 450/500), Carpenter (Level 1: 50/300), Seamstress (Level 1: 20/300)

Health: 680/680

Mana: 782/782

Intelligence: 24

Will: 22

Strength: 19

Constitution: 21

Charm: 21

Beauty: 9

Perception: 22

Dexterity: 25

Luck: 21

Skills: Cooking (26), Knife Fighting (22), Storytelling (20), Dodge (15), Singing (15), Alcohol Tolerance (10), Bartering (10), Meditation (9), Comedy (7), Identify (7), Intimidation (7), Woodworking (7), Dual Wielding (4), Sewing (3)

Spells: Clean (30), Sparkler (25), Basic Repair (15), Freshen (11), Casting Stone (10), Basic Heal (9), Basic Buff (8), Soft Breeze (6), Cure Poison (5), Moisten (5), Lift Spirits (4), Summon Witch’s Familiar (2)

Recipes: Fruit Pie (9), Sourdough Bread (6), Stew (6), Chili (3), Cornbread (3), Meat Pie (3), Porridge (3), Buffalo Sauce (2), Chicken Coop (2), Cobbler (2), Mint Sauce (2)

Like I said, I’d been working up my stats, skills, recipes, and spells. I’d made sure I had everything I’d had before. The first time around, I’d thought that my stats would be like DnD stats and level off in the low twenties. The truth was that they continued to climb with effort as far as you dared to take them.