Chapter Twenty-Six

Contrary to the stated expectations that I buy the meals, neither Loysa nor Dwarguy were without food when I found them. They had balls of meat wrapped up in newspaper that was rolled almost like it was meant to hold a bouquet, which was then drizzled with hot oil and a blackish sauce that smelled of spices that were somewhat familiar to me. Loysa went overboard it seemed, and had two of them.

On our way back, Dwarguy told me what they found.

“There a’four ships goin to Steelven tomorrow lass, two in the wee hours of the day, one in the afternoon, and one at night. What’ll it be?” He asked, and I glanced over to Loysa.

She had a little smile on her face and held out a newspaper wrapped meatball to me. I gave it a wary look, but she said, “It’s cow. Eat it.”

I was relieved and accepted the paper with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. Is your Goddess telling you anything about when we should go?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, nothing, and she’d definitely speak up if there was something specific we had to do. So, for once, we can take our time.”

“We’ll go in the afternoon, we might as well have breakfast here.” I suggested, and neither one of them argued.

“Just remember, it’s first come, first serve.” Loysa pointed out to me.

“No problem.” I said, and took a bite of my ball of meat.

I’d just finished it off and tossed my newspaper away as we reached the Hideaway Inn. I have to say, I wasn’t too comfortable with ‘littering’ but public trash cans don’t seem to have been invented yet. The smell certainly attested to that, so what else could I do?

Moira Mellon greeted me with a hug, and I noticed that she smelled vaguely of sage and fresh cut parsley. If ‘home’ as a word was crystalized into a single human being? That person stood before me.

Loysa and Dwarguy both reached to the wall and took a pair of yellow scarves from the wall, Loysa took one extra away and handed it to me, and I intuitively put it on.

Moira seemed delighted, clapping her hands together in front of her chest, “Welcome home, children!” She said as if we really were her very own, “Dinner should be ready shortly, please take your seats and I’ll see if your father is just about done preparing dinner.”

I was caught offguard by this familiar address, but mutely headed to the table as Loysa said, “Thank you, mother, I’m starving.”

“Thanks ma, it’s been a long day an I’m more starving than she is.” Dwarguy’s voice changed almost completely, like he was one upping a sibling, he jerked his thumb toward Loysa and added, “She already ate a meatball anyway.”

“So did you.” Loysa pointed out, but Dwarguy patted his broad belly.

“I’ve got more room to spare.” He said with a hearty chuckle as we took our places.

As we took our seats at the table I whispered, “What’s up with this ‘mother’ talk, is she actually your mother?” The odds of that were impossibly high, but it did fit with the genre to accidentally take a room with the parent of one’s companions. Thank the gods I hadn’t slept with anyone that way or with my luck it would turn out to be Moira’s husband!

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Loysa snapped her fingers, “Right, you wouldn’t know.” She said and put her hands on the yellow scarf. “Inns in transit towns have a custom. When you stay with them, you don a scarf, and until you take it off when you leave, you are treated as if you are a member of that family. From now until tomorrow morning, she is ‘mother’ and we’re her long absent children. Maybe that’s strange to you, but…” She patted my knee, “Try to enjoy it, little sister.”

She had a wry, almost sarcastic smile on her face, and I don’t know? Something ‘clicked’.

“Don’t worry about me, big sister.” I fell into the role immediately after that, and a few minutes later when a white bearded old man with broad shoulders and a saucy smile on his face clutching a pipe between his teeth emerged holding a pan filled with cuts of fish and pork, I was already salivating.

Our ‘mother’ held a pot of stew with tendrils of steam still rising up. I didn’t know what was in it, but I didn’t care. I wanted it.

“Thank you, father!” We said as he slid cuts of meat onto simple wooden plates. Our ‘mother’ ladled heaps of vegetable stew over the cuts and then after serving themselves and settling in their seats Moira added a chipper…

“Eat as much as you want! It’s exhausting traveling all over the world and I won’t have my children starve when they come home after a long journey!” She exclaimed and after the four of them clapped their hands together, and I hastily followed the gesture, we dug in.

It was a far cry from the city fare or the ‘fancy’ food at the hotel, the meat was lightly simmered and had a curious amber glaze that might have been honey based, while the vegetables were fresh cuts and cooked that very day.

And if I may be blunt, it was the very best thing I’ve eaten so far. Randir leaned back in his chair and talked about his day for a time and then asked, “So what have you kids been up to?”

I won’t detail everything we talked about, but it was really the only time I’d seen Dwarguy actually smile, at least that I can think off. If he did before, I don’t recall it, and it was the longest I’ve seen Loysa actually seem to be happy.

She talked about her last adventure, how she kept having to bail her ‘little sister’ (namely me) out of trouble at every turn, and I sheepishly agreed that she had.

“It’s a weird world…” I said and wrung my hands in my lap, “But I’m managing, thanks to my big sister.” It was actually true, too. I had no idea what kind of trouble I’d have gotten into if I had to figure out everything from scratch.

“Oh now, dear, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Moira said and leaned over to give me a side hug, “you’ll figure out everything, you can do anything you set your mind to. Just work hard and be the sort of daughter I’ll be proud of, and everything will work out.”

Randir gave a sage nod, “Just be careful, and remember, you’ve always got a place to come back to if things get to be too much. Then once you’re ready, you can go right back out there and try again.”

I can’t believe I had to go all the way to another world to hear things like that.

And I swear it made even the food taste better.

The crackling of the flames and the heat of the food and the warmth of the company made it perhaps one of the best nights of my life. No.

There is no perhaps.

It was.

But all good things end, the food was done, the fire died, and before I knew it my eyes were starting to get heavy.

When we went to our separate rooms and I found myself in a snug little bed that was almost too small for me but not quite, with thick hand sewn blankets over me and a dim candle flickering down waiting for my puff of air to blow it out, I was thoroughly drunk.

But not on alcohol.

I was drunk on happiness. I blew out the candle, shrouding myself in darkness, and fell into a sleep filled with wonderful dreams.