Vincha, Kingdom of Divinium, Eastern region of Rohana Federation, 2051 S.C., 169th day

  Richard gave everyone the command to stop at the gate of Vincha village while he went ahead to park the steampulley and the caravan. After about thirty minutes, he returned. "All right, everyone, just follow my lead."

  The cobblestones beneath their feet announced their arrival with rhythmic clicks. Heron's eyes widened at the street lamps lining the road. They were not crystal-powered like the ones in Jamtara, but burning with a steady amber glow. Unlike Haugstad and Draksvik, which had been modest places, in Vincha, progress had taken root in unexpected ways.

  "I'm impressed," Heron said quietly to Almir.

  "Well, Vincha is an outlier when it comes to villages. Technology isn't crystal-powered, but they sourced old technologies that cities replaced once crystaltech became viable enough," Almir replied.

  "They and several other villages source tar, which powers the lamps, from Reigtag," Icarus added. "It is an expensive endeavor if you ask me."

  They continued until a peculiar sight stopped them—twin rails of iron cutting across the road, gleaming dully in the lamplight.

  "What is this?" Heron asked.

  "Oh, you have not seen steamwagons. They use these rails and air pressure for movement." Almir turned to Richard. "You know, we should take Heron to a railway station. He has never seen steamwagons."

  "If we have time, I don't see why not," Richard responded.

  "Come on, Richard, we've all seen them except him. Let's not have him stand out," Lucia said.

  "I concur that it should be good for him to learn more about the transportation system," Irene added.

  "Are you all ganging up on me?" Richard scoffed. "Fine, I'll ask around when steamwagons will be arriving, so we'll include it in our schedule to visit the railway station."

  "Thank you, Richard," Heron said, smiling.

  They pressed on until a sturdy building emerged ahead. It was three stories of timber and stone, its windows glowing warmly from within, with a broad entrance and hanging sign that swayed in the breeze.

  "We'll be residing in this hostel and bistro called The Vincha Cask. It is a well-known tavern for adventurers," Richard announced.

  A muffled chorus reached them as they approached. Richard pushed open the door, and the sound crashed over them. Dozens of voices raised in unison:

  ??? Oh, take me back to The Vincha Cask!

  Where the wine flows deep

  And you need no flask

  Forget the blood we've seen

  Let's drown the sorrow clean

  Raise a glass to the ones who fell

  From the plains of creation, they will yell

  In their name, let's raise a glass

  While we rest in The Vincha Cask! ???

  "I guess we are in time for the evening festivities," Almir noted.

  "This place never changes," Richard muttered. "Well, let's report to the register. I booked our stay in advance. We should have the rooms reserved for the next few days."

  The tavern stretched wide under timber beams, cured meats and herb bundles hanging from the ceiling like decorations. Lamplight cast its light on stone walls and over long tables packed with adventurers in weathered gear. Laughter punctuated the air between swigs from wooden mugs. Behind the bar, massive, dark-wood casks sat, some of them showing their age with darkened patterns and scratches. A serving woman wove between tables, balancing plates of roasted meat and bread while patrons raised their voices in another verse of the tavern's namesake song.

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  They approached the counter where a broad-shouldered woman stood wiping down the surface. Richard stepped forward.

  "Checking in. The Valiant Cry party."

  She nodded, reaching beneath the counter to produce an envelope and several iron keys. Richard took them with a nod of thanks, then turned back to the group as they gathered close.

  "All right, so here are our keys. We got two for each room with bunk beds," Richard said, distributing keys to Almir, Irene, and Lucia.

  "Heron, May, and Icarus, if you need keys, one will always be left on the counter. Tomorrow is a day off, so let's enjoy the village."

  He held up the envelope. "This is a quest for us. I asked for something easier for our first assignment. The receptionist mentioned we have a few days to get it done, so we can breathe a bit and come up with a plan."

  "I have an important question," Lucia said.

  "They are still serving dinner," Richard replied.

  "How'd you know?" Lucia gasped.

  "Because all your important questions end up being food-based," Almir chuckled.

  "That is not true at all," Lucia protested.

  "It is when we check into taverns," Almir said.

  "Well, food is important to keep the muscles fed," Lucia shot back.

  "First, we should get to our rooms and set our backpacks aside, then we can meet up in an hour for dinner. It's the twentieth hour, so they'll have the kitchen open for another two."

  Everyone nodded in agreement, and they climbed the wooden stairs to the upper floor.

  The room was simple but clean—four wooden bunks built into opposing walls, their frames worn smooth by countless travelers. A small table sat beneath a window, two chairs tucked beneath it. The floorboards creaked underfoot, and a single oil lamp hung from a hook near the door, casting long shadows across the sparse quarters.

  "The public bath and toilets are behind the hostel," Richard said, dropping his pack onto one of the lower bunks.

  "You don't mind public baths, Richard?" Heron asked.

  "I wouldn't be in the adventuring business if I did. But cities can spoil you with private bathrooms and proper sewage. For you, it's not such a shock—you had some sort of bathhouses and toilets in your villages, I assume."

  "In Haugstad, we didn't really have toilets. They used buckets, which you emptied in a designated area, and then fertilizers were made."

  "Oh dear Creators," Richard said, visibly caught off guard.

  "It's fine, really," Heron said. "Though the smell of those areas was horrid. Luckily, we had masks that we bought from the city. Can't imagine what it was like before those."

  "I can't even imagine what it's like with those. In cities, we have facilities that handle the entire process using crystal technology. Well, ones that are delegated to support the agriculture."

  "I have still so much to learn about the cities," Heron groaned.

  "Well, I doubt anyone apart from Rohai, and maybe some of the clergy, knows everything," Richard chuckled. "I'm going to head out and take a bath. Almir, can I entrust you to look after my things? I'd rather not keep thinking about whether the stuff is safe every minute."

  "No worries, I'll take the bath after dinner then," Almir replied.

  "Thank you! Heron, Icarus, are you going to join me?" Richard asked.

  "I'm fine, I'll do my washing before bed," Icarus replied.

  "I'll join you," Heron said.

  They made their way behind the hostel to a stone structure that breathed steam into the evening air. Inside, a large boiler dominated the center of the room. The space was divided into individual stalls, each with its own wooden tub and a bench for clothing. It was a modest privacy in a communal setting. Even if it fell short of what cities offered, the design surpassed anything Heron had known.

  Richard emerged from behind a partition with a towel wrapped around his waist. Something glinted at his chest. It was a key on a chain, its head ornately worked with silver detail.

  Heron's eyes caught on it, but before he could stop himself from staring, Richard noticed the look.

  "It guards something valuable, so I have to have it on me at all times," he said with a small smile.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just…it's a lovely decoration," Heron said.

  "Yes, it is the Pridens emblem. It is custom-made for each member of the family."

  Heron nodded.

  They both hung their towels on hooks and stepped into their respective baths.

  Well, whatever it unlocks must be really valuable, Heron thought to himself, but the hot water soon washed the question from his mind, steam rising to meet the ceiling as his muscles began to unknot.

  

  [Verse 1]

  The road is long, and the mud is deep

  There are monsters in the dark that never sleep

  My sword is dull, and my armor’s cracked

  And there ain't no guarantee

  I’m coming back.

  The coin is low, and the work is hard.

  With the Abyss playing games with every card,

  but through the mist and the freezing rain,

  I can hear the remedy for all my pain...

  [Pre-Chorus]

  So keep the lantern burning bright,

  We’re stumbling home in the night!

  [Chorus]

  Oh, take me back to The Vincha Cask!

  Where the wine flows deep

  And you need no flask

  Forget the blood we’ve seen

  Let's drown the sorrow clean

  Raise a glass to the ones who fell

  From the plains of creation, they will yell

  In their name, let's raise a glass

  While we rest in The Vincha Cask!

  [Verse 2]

  I’ve searched for plains where the Creators live

  With my life on the line was all I could give

  But a pouch of coins is cold to hold

  Where the snowstorm hits your bones

  I’d trade it all for a vintage red

  With a wooden roof above my head!

  [Bridge]

  Yeah, tonight we sing... and tonight we cast...

  Our weary bones... In The Vincha Cask.

  ?─??????─?

  Life isn’t some kind of grand destiny.

  It’s just a collection of decisions shaped by the moments that happen around us.

  Of Moon and Magic follows a silver-haired girl. Her mana was weak, but that never dulled her hunger for magic.

  We follow her steps. We weigh her choices. We sit with her loneliness. In a world where magic is everything, war is constant, and morality is little more than a neglected guideline.

  Will she become just another cog in the machine?

  Or will she be the one to end it all?

  Only one way to find out.

  Point of Interest:

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  ?─??????─?