As Lefty drifted back towards Ash-Tab, he found himself hoping that he wouldn't encounter anyone. There would be countless questions for him, mostly about his abandoned duty, and he had no desire to explain himself. All he wanted to do was return home quietly and relax.

As the town loomed closer, he wished that he could somehow enter it unnoticed. That would be impossible of course, the town was guarded day and night by half the population… but he wished for it nonetheless; wished it with every fiber of his being. More than anything else in the world he wanted solitude… to avoid the people and duties he had abandoned and simply be left alone.

And to his complete surprise... his wish came true.

For the first time in his life, not a single guard walked the yellow brick wall surrounding Ash-Tab. It was surreal. The wall alway had guards. Seeing the town without them was like looking down at his hand to find several fingers missing. it should have been shocking... But it wasn’t.

Walking through the gates and into the sandy streets Lefty found it similarly empty. The entire town was devoid of people and more quiet than it had ever been. The only sound was a soft wind whistling through the abandoned streets and his own footsteps echoing on stone. To most people this would have been eerie; frightening even. At the very least, most people would have been curious about what had happened… but Lefty just smiled.

Everyone was gone. He didn't care how or why, he was just glad that his wish had come true. He wouldn’t have to deal with anyone.

He walked casually through the empty town, his steps almost bouncy with joy. He made no attempt to investigate the missing townsfolk and instead headed directly towards his tiny little home and the comfortable hammock that lay inside.Throwing open the door he hopped right into it, landing on his back in the cozy netting, and letting it slowly swing him side to side.

It was good to be back in his familiar bed. To simply relax and enjoy the quiet solitude of life, without having to worry about duty or the people who talked of it endlessly. And as he lay there, rocking back and forth, staring idly at the coarse adobe ceiling above him, he felt at peace with the world. This was what he had always wanted. Silence. The town was his.

And then Lefty woke up.

He looked around at the ornate stone walls of the Food Tabernacle surrounding him and then over at Ol Blu resting nearby. He didn’t recognize either of them. For a moment, he was probably more confused than you are now. Because not only did he fail to remember where he was or how he had gotten there… but he had just woken from the first dream he had ever experienced… and despite what he had heard about the fantastical nature of dreams, this one had been mundane and realistic… at least compared to the amazing reality he now found himself in

.

He was in some kind of ancient ornate temple carved from brownish linestome, and seated next to him was a small creature that looked kind of like a cat with an eye patch. The disoriented young man studied his surroundings for quite some time, his face a mask of confusion as he tried to shake the sleep from his mind and remember exactly what was going on.

Eventually Ol Blu looked up and saw Lefty's expression.

“You alright lad?” He asked kindly.

The words were like a catalyst, jump starting Lefty’s brain. The strange dream drifted to the back of his mind as the details of what had actually happened came to claim their rightful place in the forefront of his memory.

Twelve hours earlier, he knelt in the sand in front of a bonfire. He had just beat three men with his shovel. He opened up the small box they had been kicking around, and freed the creature that was trapped inside.

That creature was me. Hello there! My name is Ol’ Blu and I am one of the last remaining Kickens.

I hope you don’t mind if I take a little detour here. I promise I’ll return to a third person narration soon, but I think it’s worth taking a moment to talk about my story. I end up being pretty influential in the “Legend of Lefty”, so if you want to understand that tale, you should first know at least a little about the “Tragedy of Ol Blu.”

I’m willing to bet that you don’t even know what a kicken looks like. It's possible you’ve never even heard of us before which is… sadly understandable. If “one of the last kickens” didn’t tip you off, we are exceedingly rare these days. Only a handful of us still exist, and we tend to be hidden away in boxes by the larger folk. It's a shame, really, but unfortunately there's not much we can do about it.

We kickens are physically weaker than the other chatty races of Att. Not only are we much smaller than them, but we have no thumbs. Or hands. Or tentacles even. Just these stubby little wings that allow us to fly about as well a chicken can. You know: poorly. More of an enhanced hop than anything. At best we can hover for a few moments.

We do have feet of course, two of them even, but they are stout webbed things, more suited to water than land. We can walk the earth, but not very fast or for very long. We’re topheavy you see. In fact you could say that all we are is top. If I had to describe a kicken to someone who's never seen one before, I'd say to imagine the head of an adorable cat… and then stop imagining because that’s essentially all we are. Just a head with feet jutting from the place you’d expect a neck to be… and little wings where you might expect ears to be… on a human head that is. Our actual ears are on the top, like most felines.

Now as you might imagine from that description, kickens are far from apex predators. To be truthful we can scarcely fend for ourselves at all.Which is why we've traditionally relied on the other, more handy, races of Att to care for us. As to why anyone would want to care for a kicken… well, we’re adorable for one. I mean I certainly am. Golden brown fur with dark reddish feathers. And you should see how I style them! The ones on my chin are like a little beard! Oh and they match the color of my eye patch… (sigh) But more importantly we’re valued for our intelligence. What we lack physically, we more than make up for mentally.

In addition to the gift of speech, kickens possess an absolutely flawless memory. Once they see or hear something, they'll never forget it for as long as they live… which is especially impressive considering just how long kickens can live. I’ve been around at least a few hundred years and I used to have associates who were over a thousand. It's hard to say for certain if we’re truly immortal, because violence can end a kicken life quite easily… and unfortunately for most of my kin, it has. As far as I know, no kicken has ever died of old age. It’s possible we keel over after a million years, but at this rate we’ll never find out for sure.

Regardless, our long lives and perfect memory, combined with our natural affinity for the spoken word, made kickens very valuable to individuals of wealth and power. Long ago we were actually a status symbol if you can believe it. Rich families would keep kickens around for generations, using them as record keepers, personal assistants… storytellers. Our ability to remember everything and recall it with absolute clarity made us an invaluable resource.

Not only that… but as I said before… kickens are just delightful. I mean we possess the combined cuteness of both cats and birds, two of nature’s most charming creatures, plus a friendly attitude and a kindly demeanor as well. Has a cat ever wished you good morning as you hopped out of bed? Reminded you of your appointments for the day and then told a joke to lighten the mood? I think not. The companionship of a kicken is as pleasant as it is useful. We’re not just servants, we’re friends to the people that care for us. Which is why so many generations found kickens to be worth feeding and protecting… at least until the Dark War… and the genocide… but I suppose that’s a story for another time.

For now let’s go back to the first meeting of Lefty and OI Blu. As stated previously, he was a particularly handsome little kicken… though you'd scarcely be able to tell if you saw him flutter out of his boxy prison that night. After being trapped in there for days without any proper hygiene, he was an absolute mess. His normally pristine fur was less golden brown and more dirt brown; coated in sand and dust that made it stick together in random messy clumps. His reddish orange feathers, usually so straight and stylish, were severely ruffled, which not only made flight more difficult, but it completely messed up the whole beard thing he was going for. Worst of all, his bright red eye patch, the most distinguishing thing about him, and the only article of clothing that he wore, was severely misaligned, exposing the ugly disfigured area where his right eye used to be.

I'll spare you the finer details of what happened as he stumbled out of the box and into the flickering light of the bonfire. Though this meeting would echo throughout history and eventually lead to life altering changes for everyone on the continent… you wouldn't have known it at the time. Despite its extraordinary significance, the encounter was about as clumsy as it could have possibly been. Both participants were exhausted and confused, and neither was feeling especially chatty. Their first conversation consisted mostly of awkward pauses interspersed with all the basic questions you’d expect.

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“What’s your name? What happened here? Are you okay? What even are you?” All questions that, by now, you should already know the answers to. It’s not exciting, but that's how first meetings are sometimes. It didn't help that Ol Blu was half dazed and suffering from a monstrous headache… which is pretty dire when you’re mostly a head.

You see, the little kicken had been held captive in that box for almost a week by that point, trapped in nearly total darkness which had only been broken for the brief moments when his captors decided to feed him. As you might imagine, his sudden freedom left him quite disoriented, and as a result, the exposition that Lefty received for kickens was far less coherent than the one you just received. Ol Blu's mumbling speech was littered with pauses and stammering that night, as the flustered creature attempted to explain his origins while shaking the dirt from his wings and readjust his eye patch.

It was only after the kicken regained his senses, and Lefty's stomach returned to grumble at him, that the two actually began to converse somewhat normally. They quickly realized that they shared a few common goals. They were both very tired, exceedingly hungry, and enemies to a trio of drunks. Given their situation, it didn't take them long to decide that they should work together. Ol Blu knew where they could rest up, sate their hunger, and hide from their foes all at the same time… and Lefty… was tall, with functioning arms and legs. Together they were unstoppable. At Ol Blu's command, the former sand miner lifted the dirty kicken up onto his head, and with their simple roles established, they set out on their adventure.

It was about this time that Lefty learned from his new companion that the men he had fought were amateur chefs, and that their location was not merely some random camping spot, but a site of great significance. Not far away, just on the other side of the bonfire in fact, stood an ornate metallic door, built right into the stone cliff face that towered over them. Turns out they were right next to a back entrance... to the Food Tabernacle.

Now at the time Lefty knew very little about magic, and even less about Scaevolus and his Ten Tabernacles, so that name meant nothing to him. Fortunately, majestic architecture is a kind of language all its own, so he didn’t really have to understand. As soon as he opened that door and looked inside it was clear that he was somewhere special

Before his eyes lay a long cyclopean hallway, far larger than the door he had opened. Five men could have easily walked shoulder to shoulder with room to spare, and the vaulted ceiling was so high that he could barely see it from the ground. The grand hallway stretched on for hundreds of hands in front of him, before emptying into a chamber that was somehow even grander. Just glancing at it from the doorway, Lefty could make out at least five floors, each with a balcony that looked out into the main room. And all of this was carved directly into the solid stone of the mountain itself; hollowed out with a kind of expert craftsmanship that was rare in any part of the world but especially around Ash-Tab.

Lefty stood in slack jawed amazement. The Food Tabernacle was a true marvel of engineering. It would have been a wondrous sight for anyone to behold, but for a poor sand miner, who had only ever seen simple adobe homes and a moderately sized wall… it was simply breathtaking… and that was only half the story.

For you see, the majesty of the tabernacle was matched by its complete and utter state of disrepair. Works of graffiti, both small and large, vulgar and artistic, covered its finely crafted stone walls. Dirt and garbage from every source imaginable littered the floor, providing food for countless vermin. As the metal door closed behind Lefty, a clang echoed down the hallway that sent dozens of bears, some nearly as tall as his shin, scurrying from under the trash and into the darkness for safety.

The extreme contrast was overwhelming to the young man. There was a sense of history here that simply didn’t exist in Ash-Tab. Unlike his hometown, a lot of stuff had clearly happened here. Generations had passed. Culture had changed. And he felt the weight of all that time and all those people. It slowed his steps to a crawl, the young man slowly walking the hallway in solemn awe despite his eagerness to find food.

It almost stopped him in his tracks. Had he been a little less hungry he might have launched into another series of questions, asking Blu all about this grand monument they were in. But at the end of the day he was just a little more hungry than curious, so he pushed his questions into the back of his mind for now and continued walking, his pace quickly returning to normal.

This decision was aided, in no small part, by the strangely delicious smell that came wafting at him from down the hallway. The scent somehow overpowered the stench of stale garbage, and was so appealing that all of Lefty’s thoughts about the nature of the tabernacle were drowned out by the impatient growls of his stomach.

Without even consulting Ol Blu he followed his nose out of the hallway, and into a small room that was built into the main chamber. Inside they found a disorganized mess that was clearly newer and more useful than the rest of the garbage. Adventuring necessities like bedrolls, rucksacks, and spare clothing were scattered around haphazardly; as were an inordinate amount of cooking supplies. It was among that pile that they located the source of the delicious smell. It was coming from a small makeshift oven, which sat at the far end of the room. Red hot coals were still smoldering inside, heating a pan which contained two freshly baked loaves of bread.

Ol Blu explained that this camp had belonged to his captors, those chefs outside who had treated him so badly. Without much debate, the two unanimously agreed that those men were grumpsters who did not deserve such nice things, and, with no remorse whatsoever, they promptly stole everything they wanted from their camp. At Blu’s direction, Lefty quickly stuffed everything he’d need to survive for a few days into one of the empty rucksacks, before using a pair of nearby oven mitts to grab the entire tray of bread.

While it may have been tempting for the hungry duo to simply eat it right there, Ol Blu reminded his new companion that the chefs might regain consciousness and return at any moment. In the flickering light of the bonfire it had been difficult to tell how injured they were, but if even one of them woke up, they could make serious trouble for the two of them. It would be much wiser to put some distance between themselves and their enemies before relaxing. As hungry as Lefty was, he agreed.

And so, the two of them delved deep into the tabernacle. Lefty walked as fast as his tired legs could carry him, and Ol Blu sat atop his head like some kind of exotic hat, guiding his new companion farther into the structure. The old kicken was determined to find a location where they could set up a little camp of their own, far from the structure's entrances. The two of them walked for nearly thirty moments, mostly going up staircases, and occasionally twisting through a labyrinthine maze of tunnels. Lefty's legs ached with each step, but he continued on regardless, trusting that the little ball of fur and feathers knew what he was doing.

They were more than ten floors up when Ol Blu finally told the young man they could rest, pointing him towards a little room not unlike the one they had stolen from below. Lefty was breathing hard by this point, his body glistening with sweat from the exertion. He leaned against the cool stone wall as he stumbled the last few steps. With a groan he took off his newly acquired rucksack and dropped it to the dusty ground, before joining it himself a few seconds later.

Satisfied with their spot, and certain that the overweight chefs wouldn't be able to follow them up ten flights of stairs, Ol Blu fluttered down off of Lefty's head. The young man didn't even ask about the food. He simply placed the bread pan down on the ground next to him, removed one of the two loaves, and with a quick twist, split the loaf in half, taking one portion for himself, while extending an equally sized portion towards Ol Blu.

For half a moment, Ol Blu stared back and forth between Lefty and the half loaf of bread he was being offered. He was unsure if he should be touched by his new companion's generosity, or amazed by his stupidity. Not only did Blu not have any hands with which to take the bread, but the portion being offered was far too much for a creature as little as him. He was about to say something to the young man, but before he could, Lefty took a bite out of his own half of the bread, and promptly dropped Ol Blu's portion on the ground. His eyes went wide, his fingers trembling, as his senses were overwhelmed with the best thing he had ever tasted.

As the thin outer crust gave way with satisfying crisp, and the warm starchy goodness filled his mouth, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. Without hyperbole, it was like biting into a miracle. The fluffy white dough seemed to expand and fill his mouth, while simultaneously melting on his tongue like creamy butter. It seemed impossible, like eating a cloud. The bread was so light and fluffy that it required no effort to chew, and yet it filled him up as if it was hearty and robust. He was almost reluctant to swallow his first bite, thinking the sensation would fade, but instead it just got stronger. The feeling of pure deliciousness that had rested on his tongue now expanded to fill his entire body. Lefty's leg muscles, strained and sore after so much walking, lost their ache almost immediately, the fatigue replaced by a soothing warmth that was tinged with... jealousy? Yes, his legs were actually jealous of his stomach, wishing they were part of the digestive tract so that they could experience the amazing bread more directly.

As the sensation faded and the world came back into focus, Lefty turned to look at Ol Blu, his jaw hanging open in slacked amazement, unable to articulate just how mind-blowingly awesome the bread was.

The kicken gave a little laugh, “Never had magic food before?” He asked before leaning down to take a bite of the bread laying on the floor before him.

Lefty slowly shook his head no, before taking another bite from the loaf in his hand.

Ol Blu smiled wide at his new companion's naivety “If you think this is good, you should see what an actual food meister whip up. Makes this amateur stuff seem like stale dirt.”

Ten moments later, having barely finished off the first loaf of bread, the two new companions sat in a pleasant post-meal stupor, experiencing the kind of dull happiness that comes from a full belly and a thoroughly satisfying meal. With their hunger sated, and the sun outside having long since set, the pair decided to get some sleep.

Lefty unfurled his stolen bedroll onto the cool stone floor, while Ol Blu made a small makeshift nest out of a spare shirt they had grabbed from the chef's camp. Lefty still had many questions, of course, but Ol Blu was eager to rest in comfort for the first time in days, telling his new friend to save his questions for now.

“Just get some sleep lad, I'm sure you need it.” The kicken had said as they both lay down for the night. “I'll tell you all about food magic, and the entire history of the tabernacle, and anything else you want to know in the morning.”

Lefty had done exactly that, quickly falling asleep and dreaming for the first time, visiting the abandoned Ash-Tab he craved.

Which brings us back to the start of this chapter. It was the morning, he was awake, and all the memories of the previous day had solidified in his head, pushing aside his strange dream for now.

. He smiled and nodded at his companion, knowing the answer to Blu’s question. Yes, he was alright. He knew where he was, who he was with, and most importantly, he knew what time it was. It was time for Ol Blu to answer all his questions.