[F27-SP] imugi. <<Challenge of Olympus>>

[Bistro 0]

Olympia was one hell of a place to look upon.

A circular concourse with a large fountain, three tiers of water pouring onto each other, crashing down gently upon a shallow base of water. The liquid occasionally splashed onto white clean cut cobblestone, which sprawled over the courtyard in a pragmatic fashion. Each lane cut across patches of grass, filled with shrubs of various heights, potted in ivory or rooted to the dirt, and the occasional flower bush and hedge bordered some sidewalks while more eye-catching landmarks stood out on others. Statues, marble, of various mythological figures. Against the sky's vibrant blue on this carefree weekend day, Bistro was perfectly content to take her time admiring the sights while she still could on the newly-opened Floor 17.

Taking a look down from the way she came from, even towards the sides of the platform Olympia itself rested on, the mountain's slopes seemed to stretch on for ages. It only found itself cut off by the various cumulus clouds that had bunched up, the set that her and her guide had just breached through earlier with their ascension. A gold rim traversed around the pavement's edges, she'd noticed, as her eyes traveled up the rock, separating white from the summit's duller green. As though the gathering of gods wasn't intended to be here in the first place, but while they were, their rejection from the environment still showed through.

Blacksmithing, the player mused, her gaze slowly sweeping over the fields. She'd sighted a large, darkened anvil, sitting unceremoniously by the entrance of a lane leading to a temple, and figured that's what the signifier had meant. And that's... artisanry? A large gold harp, its form neatly cut, stood somewhere within the north-west region of the circle, resting on freshly trimmed grass. No, performance.

Her eyes hopped, spotting each different mark and temple in the distance, before they settled on one she wasn't too familiar with, where the satyr that had carried her here was heading towards. Dionysus’ abode, was it? What did they stand for? Their home gave nothing away -- no landmarks of any sort, save for the golden wheat fields nearby. Surely this couldn't be for alchemy; it looked as though it was more suited for chefs than players like her.

But if this was where her guide had gone, it was more likely meant for her profession.

Clasping a hand around her neck, Bistro shuffled forward, tailing her leader in earnest.

---

BISTRO | Lv. 11 | HP: 220/220 | EN: 40/40

 

Edited December 21, 2022 by Bistro

[Bistro 0]

"Dionysus is waiting for you."

"Thanks," the player shot back, her smile paralleling the satyr's dissatisfaction. In the guard's arms, he carried a wooden spear, a symbol of strength Bistro didn't have. She wondered for a moment if any player had been keen to take on the deities' defenses, before shoving the thought aside, approaching the large double doors of the temple ahead of her.

They were embroidered with gold accents, hiding under the shadow of its roof, the sunlight only pooling golden at the marble structure's doorsteps. On yellowed handles did Bistro place her gloves upon, brimming with excitement as she pushed forward, hoping her miniscule size and weight wouldn't hinder her entrance. While the doors had managed to give way, Dionysus himself did not, stepping back with a yelp of shock as the player's form became clear in the goddess' eyes -- a visitor, for her and her alone. The most inopportune of times, it appeared.

"Oh! Sorry," Bistro called out to the divine, grinning. The god, seated on a throne at the far back of the chamber, was floating in midair with a hand swirling a goblet full of liquid that never spilled. Framed by two totem poles of torches, flames ablaze above a lip of gold, it only added to the spectacle of said divinity. And the player was quickly enchanted with the enchanted’s height, seeming as though the avatar could take on a modern skyscraper, given a few more inches. Dionysus simply addressed her with a huff, his eyes rolling. Immediately, the would-be alchemist felt smaller than usual, and the usual around these parts already made her mice-sized in comparison.

Eyes darting to avoid the god’s furious look, what was more of a treat for Bistro's eyes was the brown wriggling worm he'd held in his other hand, seeming to squeal intelligibly trapped in its master's grasp. It was a violent tosser, the snake putting up a fight, but Dionysus didn't seem too occupied with it. More akin to an annoyance to him, the player guessed, as she stepped forward into the temple space, uncertain how she should proceed, if at all.

"What is it this time...? Step forward."

And just like that, her thoughts had been answered. "Oh! Got it," came Bistro's reply, the woman approaching the center of the room, hurried in her paces. "Thank you very much, sir–"

"Oh, niceties." 

The worm continued to thrash about as they conversed. 

"Look, that's very polite of you, I’m sure, but… can we just throw those out for the moment?"

Bistro went blank at the odd request. "Sure?"

"Good."

[Bistro 0]

The god raised the pest. "You see this thing, yes?"

Bistro nodded.

"This is your task: get rid of it." 

One fling, and the serpent was upon the floor, dancing about in a fright. It was barely larger than her, akin to a dog more than a monstrous beast, but all the player heard from it was a squeak as it hit the floor in a thud. 

"I don't care how, but that doesn't belong here, nor anywhere near my crops."

The player found herself sweating bullets, noticing how quickly south this trip to the skies was turning for her. Gingerly, she turned around the room, looking towards the door kept partially open. The blues and greens of the outdoors were calling to her, almost begging for her to respond in an affirmative. 

Instead, Bistro returned a question of her own. "How is… any of this related to alchemy, again?"

"Sorry?"

"I was told I was here for a challenge? Of wits, of some sort, of potion-making...?"

"Oh, that." 

Dionysus rolled his eyes, passing his cup to his other hand, before resting a cheek on his fist, leaning against his throne. "Look, I can’t be bothered to entertain Zeus’ little plan for making you mortals do stuff for us right now. So let’s just straighten this out with a quid-pro-quo ourselves, alright? We’ll just say you’re ridding my fields of rodents like him," he gestured nonchalantly at the oversized python on the ground, "and I'll hand you my cauldron... or something. I'm nearly certain everything we keep in the stash gives you some sort of bonus you're looking for. So chop chop. Get to it."

Oh, great. Watch this be the death of me.

Bistro was hesitant, but she inched closer to the creature as it slowed its struggle. With two beady eyes, it spotted her as she advanced, and the woman froze, seeing the snake slither over to her side. As it drew near, poking its face over at her frame, she frowned, jumping up to reach its snout. Her arms wrapping around its jaws surprised the reptile, and it wriggled hard on its lower body, as Bistro continued to do her best to yank the beast forward, pulling and tugging at it with all her might.

"Wh-- hey! Let me go!"

Huh?

Was this thing talking to her? She faltered for a moment, before continuing her pushes forward, against the complaints of the great snake.

"Hey…! Don't ignore me-- let me go!! I have to stay here!!"

Oh, it was definitely talking to her. With her stats being so low as an only-crafter, her breaths became haggard quick. "No– can– do– buddy..."

"Who exactly are you talking to?"

The snake? 

Bistro had wanted to spit that out, had she not been fighting with keeping the beast on lock. Instead, she figured a quicker “Nothing--!” would suffice. She gulped down a breath of air, before continuing to take out the trash, the whiny cries gone uncared for by the god continuing to plague her existence.

[Bistro 0]

She'd managed to wrestle her way towards the door before the serpent picked up its fuss, which the player tried to match in power, grunting and cursing as it finally passed through the threshold. It struggled less now, as it slammed its body into the corners of the door frame in its struggle, (“Oww! Ouch!”) and it followed through with a growl, the door shutting behind it.

Dionysus's intervention, the alchemist guessed.

Now outside, Bistro finally relented, falling on her behind and panting hard. Her heart was hammering, and her lungs were sore, and she'd hoped that maybe some satyr nearby would help her finish the job.

Incidentally, it was around noon when this had happened.

“You didn’t have to be so rough with me, y’know!”

Now that Bistro was away from prying eyes, she decided that she could banter with the beast in broad daylight without questioning objections. She sighed, before she started. “I’m sorry for doing that to you. What are you, anyway?”

“I--”

“And why couldn’t anyone else hear you? Why does Dionysus want you gone? What--”

“Stop, stop!! I can’t answer everything at once!”

That was Bistro’s cue to keep quiet.

The creature huffed, pooling its body together in a contained pile with a groan. Its slim, pink tongue flickered out for a moment before it continued. “My name’s Miru, stranger. What’s yours?”

“I’m Bistro.” She blinked. “But I don’t see how that’s important.”

“First impressions are very important, mortal! That’s a parting lesson from divinity to you!” Miru’s forked tongue started waving about, as he reared his head backwards. Bistro merely squinted. 

‘Mortal?’

“That’s why I’m here, actually. Say, have you ever heard of an imugi before?“

Bistro shook her head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Oh. Well, it’s okay. All you have to know is that I’m looking to turn into a dragon.”

Silence hung between them, as gears were forcibly turning in the player’s head.

[Bistro 0]

“See,” Miru began, filling the void with a panicked explanation. “Imugi’s are like… baby dragons. Yeah! We live for eons at a time, and at some point during our lifespan, we’re supposed to turn into dragons and live amongst the skies with our brethren.”

This continued to make less sense to the earthbound player.

“I-I heard that there was a wish-granting stone here, so I’d figured… maybe I’d come give it a look…?”

A wish-granting stone? 

“For real…?”

“Y-yeah! I mean, if Dionysus’s meant to be believed as the one in charge of the cool magical stuff.” 

Miru’s tail seemed to wag at the woman’s interest in his treasure, the python’s expression unreadable where the lady stood. “Uh, what is it called again? All-kem-mie? Um, chemistry? No, that’s...”

Bistro chuckled as the beast fumbled, head turning away. “It’s alchemy,” she clarified. “If that’s the word you’re looking for.”

“Ah! So it is!”

“That seems like a reasonable course of action.” She folded her arms, pairing it with a smile. It fell, however, as she ran through her memory. “But he seemed to be pretty upset with you earlier. How come? Is the stone off limits or something?”

“Ahhhhh--- no…!” Miru let out a hiss of exasperation as he shook his head, almost slinking forward, trying to get himself away from the door despite his confines. “It was just one big misunderstanding! I assure you, I wasn’t up to anything bad -- promise!!”

Bistro chuckled. “You denying it without a reason makes it seem suspicious, Miru.”

The monster whined, dipping his head low in shame. “But it’s embarrassing!”

“Well, no judgments here. Try me.”

There was a brief pause, as Miru wagged his tail in thought. “Promise not to laugh?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” the snake breathed, blinking. With a raise of his head, he looked up to the sky, a bright blue sea of emptiness towering above the two of them. Bistro followed his gaze, taking in the air in suit.

“The other reason as to why I’m here are the stars.” 

In another universe, another time, the two would be looking upon a night sky, dotted with white lights of various sizes, a myriad of cool colours in their wake, forming the different celestial bodies that gave form to the heavens above.

“I heard that an imugi traditionally becomes a dragon when it catches a wishing star that’s fallen from above. It starts to grow paws, like a tiger’s -- three if we’re lucky, four if we’re chosen to grasp the star in our hands.”

“We form a bushy mane -- and antlers grow from our heads. The skin that coats our body falls off, revealing a number of polished scales, the count of which represent our fortune, our divinity. With one thought, we could call down showers or lift a fog, wash the soil and bless the land with fertility and grace! No longer be forced to walk the earth by our creators -- we’d soar through the skies, and bring joy and miracles to the living! Oh, what a wonder it would be to become a dragon...”

[Bistro 0]

As the mirage faded from Bistro’s eyes, she lowered her gaze and faced her companion once more. His forked tongue flickered about gleefully, the same stars she once imagined reflected back in his longing eyes, and his tail absent-mindedly thumping on the marble flooring. Miru let out a sigh, before he too returned his sights to the human. She shrugged back, grin plastered on her face. 

“I promised I wouldn’t laugh.”

“And you didn’t! I really appreciate you hearing me out.” It pulled what seemed to be a smile, mirroring the woman’s own; eyes closed and turned upwards, tongue bobbing up and down at a rapid pace. “Anyway, I was out here looking for falling stars in the wheat fields. This is the apex of the mountain after all, so I figured I’d get a better chance to find one with how high up I was! ... Then some guards came over when they’d spotted me, and they hauled me away for the night…” 

It gulped, shrinking back into the pool of itself. “I ended up in an empty room for most of the morning. Then I was brought out here to be punished by Dionysus herself, and that’s when you walked in…!”

“Fortunate timing on my part, then!”

“Yeah, exactly!” Miru let out a hiss of contentment, dancing along his length a little. “Say, Bistro,” he continued, curiosity getting the better of him. “Do you have a wish like that?”

 “Why’s this about me now?” The player smirked, characteristically suspicious, but played along anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to entertain her new friend for a spell, test what Cardinal was capable of. “Well, I do, actually. To leave this world behind, to venture forth back to where we came from.”

“Oh!” The creature followed, nodding along as well. “You’re an explorer then! Are you lost? Is there some way I could help you?”

I guess it makes sense that the system wouldn’t comprehend my request.

Change of plans then, as Miru continued to muse, humming along with its tail end by its chin. “It’d be easier if I could fly… Maybe there’s an exit somewhere in the sky? Or a portal?”

“It’s alright,” Bistro reassured him. “I... think you can leave the escaping to me.”

“Oh, okay…? I mean, if you say so. Is that what you would wish for if you ever saw Dionysus’s stone?”

“Maybe,” she breathed, contemplating her next steps. It wasn’t in her agenda to help out a would-be dragon for the day, but this wish-granting stone felt awfully suspicious. Best investigate it before she continued with whatever she was planning on doing. “Let’s ask around about it first, shall we?”

[Bistro 0]

Miru turned to the doors behind him, before looking back at Bistro. “You’re not planning on going back in, are you?”

The player shook her head. “You know how mad he was earlier.”

“Unfortunately, I do...”

The two sighed, mourning their loss of connection to the source of the information. “You know,” the imugi continued, tail waving anxiously about. “I might also be wanted by the guards, if you’re planning to look for them...”

Oh, the guards. 

Bistro raised her head, before scanning the courtyard behind her. The satyrs were generally missing from their posts at the moment, but one quick round about the region to search for them wouldn’t hurt for answers. “Well, if you can keep yourself hidden,” she pressed him, “I could probably come back with an answer for us both. Whatd’ya say?”

“You’d do that? For me?” Miru opened his mouth wide, a monster’s grin, teeth baring. Bistro rubbed the back of her head at the joyous serpent, though ultimately uncertain as to how to handle the expectation that had been placed on her shoulders.

I mean, I’m doing it for me, too. So I’m not entirely that nice of a person... 

“Sure,” she responded, resigning herself to her fate. “Just… make sure to lay low. Maybe stay outside?”

“We could meet up in the wheat fields again!”

“You got caught there last time, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” the imugi snorted, before looking around the immediate vicinity. “What about the back of Dionysus’s temple? If you walk behind the hedges,” he gestured with his tail, and Bistro leaned to the side, gaze following along, “the guards wouldn’t notice me from my size. They wouldn’t be able to see you sneaking about the perimeter either.”

“Sounds good. I can work with that.”

“Yessss!!” Miru wafted forward, pulling the rest of his body along with him as he slithered across the ground, down the steps at the temple front. “Okay, I’ll be waiting there, then! Make sure to come back, Bistro! Don’t you forget about me!”

“I won’t,” she hollered back with a wave. And to her, that was a solid promise.

How could she forget such an adorable, towering snake, anyway?

[Bistro 0]

It took her almost no time at all to find the guardians’ mess hall. In a large white hellenistic structure near the back of the wheat fields, the station’s interior was poured over in white and gold accents. Mythological attendants were seated at their respective tables, speaking to each other fervently about gossip around the courts. Too noisy, too specific, and most importantly too superficial to make use of; it behooved Bistro to ignore their words, focusing on scanning the crowd for any signs of the satyrs she’d come to speak to.

Over there, by the corner at the front on their lawn? Perfect. She didn’t have to step foot into the main building at all. With a wave over to them accompanied by a holler did heads turn from the nearby crowd to look her way. One glance was all it took for most onlookers to resume their activities -- for the satyrs, their gaze was fixated. A human in their midst spelled hell.

“So,” the player began, hands on her hips. “Which one of you lot is Dionysus’s?”

"What--" "Ugh..." "Well, I'm not on sentry shift today--"

“That would be me,” a low voice returned, the rest of the party scowling at their lunch’s interloper. Of course, the familiar spear taped to the horse's back should've given the guardian’s identity away, but in a mix of unfamiliar faces, it was difficult for Bistro to tell. A sigh passed the sentinel's lips as he mirrored his companions' frowns, turning over from his meal to the inquirer. "What do you want...?"

"Mortal scum..." "A visitor? Or..."

A fold of her arms, her multi-coloured gazed settling solely on the equine she had business with. "I'm here to ask about a wish-granting rock?" 

At the item's mention, each of the gathered beast men seemed to perk up -- some with surprise, a handful letting out agitated snorts. Her quarry's expression didn't seem to change much, if anything their annoyance only seemed to burn brighter. "Some birdie told me something like that was around here. Is that true?"

"Another one of those questions again?" "These humans really are--" "We have something like that here?"

"No," the horseman responded, letting out a scoff, relief falling over a few kin in shock. "You've been misled, lassie."

"Underdwellers sure come up with the darndest things, don't they?"

"Closest thing we've got to that is a philosopher's stone, so take your intel and beat it."

A pause, the woman registering the information in interest, before Bistro took a step forward, brows knitted together. "No." The legendary item’s name hadn't fallen upon ignorant ears, and the curious cat was vested with wanting to hear more. "What does it do? Tell me."

Her eagerness prompted an eye roll and growl from the questioned beast, a few of his pack jeering at the human in objection, in disdain. 

"Don't you think you're asking for too much?" "Are we sure she's not an escapee?"

“Shut up,” Dionysus’s puppet ordered, and save for a few noises, silence quickly fell over the rabble. “This is a question for me. The sooner I answer, sooner she leaves.” 

He turned to Bistro, blinking. “It turns metals into gold -- none of your wish-granting beeswax. Now.” Rough fingers grabbed the cutlery by his plate’s side, a hiss leaving the satyr’s mouth as he pointed a knife over to his heavenly guest. “Leave us be. You stay too long and we’ll haul you to the zoo.” 

Laughter from his companions, a few hands slapping the table, a couple horses making annoyed complaints. The guard in question tilted his head back and raised a brow, a challenge further for the alchemist too curious. “My warning is as a mercy.”

Bistro withdrew her step forward from earlier, grimacing and giving the attendant a cautious nod. That was her cue to leave them, and she wasn’t going to stay to tempt fate any long.

“Right. Thank you very much.”

Edited December 21, 2022 by Bistro

[Bistro 0]

All she brought back to her serpent friend was bad news. Tragic, even. If you were Miru, however, it was cataclysmic.

“What?! So I was wrong all along?!”

“Seems about right...”

Behind the temple, their once marbled environment had changed to a deserted cliff-side, the only modicum of structure left being the hedge the two stowed themselves behind. Bistro had her hands in her pockets, watching the snake upset, the creature wriggling and writhing on the floor while uttering a handful of pitiful whines. Devastated was her best guess, the player unable to read her friend’s expressions, but duly she understood his sentiments. A loss was a loss, after all.

With a bow of his head, Miru let out a dry sigh, eyes half lidded as much as they could be. The bottom of their jaw hit the grass gently as they slunk downward, defeated, a sorry sight for a dragon-in-wanting. “I guess that’s it for me, then… No falling stars, no wishing stones…”

“You’re giving up on watching the skies?”

“I don’t really want to,” he admitted, tuning his gaze out from the world. “But it’s going to be a lot harder for me when I’m down at the base of the mountain… The stars don’t breach the clouds so easily, I think. And when I’m closer to the earth...”

“--You’ll be busy getting chased off by humans who think of you as a threat, so you can’t keep an eye out for the stars.” Bistro folded her arms, solemn, trying to put together her best thoughts. Miru nodded sadly back at her, huffing out the last bit of his sadness, before beginning to crawl around his companion, sliding along the unkempt grass.

The alchemist raised a foot up from where she stood, watching the snake slither away. “Woah-- hey! Miru-- wait, don’t just leave yet.”

“Why not? There’s not a lot of hope left for me...”

“I mean, that’s true, but...”

[Bistro 0]

Bistro ruffled her hair, sliding her fingers between the locks behind her head. A groan, the crafter racking her brain further, expediting her solutions to the forefront. Out of the blue, it came to her, like an inspiration of gold that had dropped from beyond. “Miru, have you ever seen a star up close?”

The imugi stopped, raising his head in curiosity. “Um, no, actually...”

“Have-- have you ever caught anything from the sky?”

A head tilt in response. “I caught a few birds a few times. They were swan diving, so I leapt from the trees to catch them. Does that count?”

I think the better question would be how you did it--

The player closed her mouth, once open in surprise, before nodding with enthusiasm. “Yeah,” she swallowed, an idea coming to mind. “Yeah, I think that counts.”

“Bistro-- why do you ask?”

“Just a theory,” she revealed, playing with the edge of the leather glove on her wrist now. “Mind if you stay here a little longer? I want to run some checks about the stars first. See if they might help.”

A tail waggle of the snake seemed to indicate that Miru’s interest had peaked. Maybe Bistro was starting to learn how to understand snakes better. With a nod to his waving tongue, she fired another query to the great worm. “Um, is there a-- a library up here?”

Information directly from the celestials was her best bet on getting mythological intel correct, and this was something the adventurer felt like she had to get right.

“A library! I haven’t been to one in awhile. I can’t read, you know.” How snakes could chuckle, the broker wasn’t certain either. “Yeah, I think so. It’s most likely in the back somewhere! That’s where the gods like to keep everything these days.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Hmm…” Miru paused for a moment to think, before shaking his head. “But it’s gotta be somewhere west of the wheat fields, I think -- I saw a muse walking by with her face buried in a book last night! Right before I got captured, of course...”

Bistro nodded, taking the intel in stride. “Got it. I’ll go look around, then. I might take some time looking, depending on how large the building is.”

Edited December 21, 2022 by Bistro

[Bistro 0]

“Oh! I’ll come with!” The python bobbed his head up and down in excitement, tongue cheekily sticking out between his lips. His friend grinned in return, mirroring his enthusiasm, before it fell away at the woman’s sudden realization. 

“Wait. You’ll risk getting caught again.”

A childish whine from the serpent, as the pink retracted back into his mouth. “But I really wanna tag along! It’s no fun waiting around here for you...” Miru pulled a face, what could best be described as a sulk to the player, doing a wiggle of distress to appeal to Bistro. 

She chuckled, turning around to begin her exploration again. “Alright. Only if you promise to stay on your best behavior. And that means--”

“Being as sneaky as possible! I know!” The snake slithered forward, speed faster than Bistro could catch up with. “I’ll do my best! I’ll even scout ahead! Just watch, I’ll find those books in no time!”

His form weaved and danced around the edges of Olympia’ lining, the beast keeping to his word of being stealthy. If only the grass and marble flooring wasn’t contrasting the colour of his skin, Bistro mused with a smile, following along as she watched his tail end zip past her and over a hedge block. She had her worries for a moment, wondering if there were any creatures still on patrol, but given the size of the crowd at the cafeteria earlier, it was safe to say they might get away with their little knowledge heist undisturbed.

So then, their hunt began.

[Bistro 0]

A bit of sneaking around the premises. Bistro was wary of the guard's warning earlier, so her silent steps were precautionary. 

They’d found a district where most mythical beings were commonly staffed around, a small hovel of a town, holding most resources that the gods had deemed worthy enough for storage. While most of the buildings were empty save for a few personnel working the lunch shift, she’d managed to explore some of the structures’ interiors, the woman spending her time discerning each facility’s use. None of them were the library -- of course, the thing one looks for is always in the last place they’d checked -- and it was always with Miru’s hissing calls by the entrance that pulled the player away from her own wanderlust, heading back outside to pick up her search once again.

The library’s entrance was marked with a sign, advising Olympia’ residents to return their borrowed books by their due date in an extremely harsh tone. It was to Bistro’s surprise that the main hall was attended, a goat beastman with white matted fur and long curved horns that rose upwards seated behind a wooden counter with a booklet. They had on a golden monocle, an immaculately white toga, with fuzzy human hands flicking through their leaflet’s pages. 

As Bistro watched their imugi friend slither in quietly, sticking to the counter’s edge, a clearing of the caprid’s throat caught the woman’s attention, the beastman frowning, horizontal pupils transfixed with stern anger upon her. “Can I help you?”

“Oh! Yes.” The alchemist proceeded forward, finally entering the building proper. “I was hoping you could help me find a book?” She’d stuttered for a second as she recalled supposedly being alone; no one was allowed to know of the imugi’s possible existence if she could help it.

“Find a book?”

“Yes, I’m looking for one--”

“No, no--” The goat waved a hand, shaking their head with a furrowed brow. “We don’t serve mortals in this library.”

The simple statement only brought dour moods to both the would-be adventurers, Bistro balking in annoyance. Some sort of human-discrimination again? She’d seen it with the satyrs. “Well,” she decided, “That’s alright. I’m sure I can navigate through your shelves on my own.”

She started to walk off down the hall, but Miru interjected quick, enough for her to stop in her tracks. “I’m not mortal! I’m to be divine myself!”

“Hmphf!” The librarian grunted, eyes squinting, his book slammed shut between two hands. “Well, you’re not one of our registered deities. Whose permission do you have to be in here?”

The library needs permission for access…?!

Miru and Bistro shared a surprised look, before the human ushered him to talk with a waggle of two fingers. Miru cleared his throat, realizing he had to come up with a lie.

“Right…! We’re on… uh… Hermes’ permission! We’re guests of his court, you know, we’re here to fetch him some books about dragons!”

“Dragons,” the goat clarified, sliding his book aside. “Like yourself?”

“Yes, yes!” Miru huffed and stuck his chest out, wearing a grin that showed mischievousness only from the side towards Bistro. “See, he wasn’t so adept in addressing creatures like myself. I’m a high ranking official from out of town, you know! Dragons are hard to come by beyond Olympia!” 

Fully bought into the lie, his conversationalist nodded, back straightening at once.

“And I forgave him. How could I not, if he hadn’t met someone like me before? So he steeled himself, bless Hermes, to learn more about myself and the culture I come from. But he had an urgent matter to attend to partway, and so asked us – practically begged us to collect some information about myself so that he could educate himself further! After establishing a place for us to stay, of course!”

The attendant hummed, considering the humility of the god. Then, he turned to the wide-eyed Bistro with a sneer, jabbing a furry finger her way. “Then what about that thing?”

I have a name! 

Bistro was about to holler back, but Miru slithered around the counter to frame his friend with his body. “Oh, Bistro? Bistro’s my attendant. She’s here to tell me what the books say, given that I can’t read nor write.”

“... You can’t?”

Bistro signaled to Miru that he’d made a mistake.

“No–! N-Not in your tongue, no. So she is also! My. Translator. Yes!”

This part of the fib did not jibe smoothly with the goatman. Miru cleared his throat again before clarifying further. “We have a different writing system from where we come from. Surely you’re familiar with that idea?”

“Yes,” the librarian responded flatly, “quite.” He took one long look at Bistro, then Miru, before sighing and picking up his book once more. “Okay, go on in. Just don’t take too long, and make it quick, like Hermes prefers.”

Miru, elated, could only temper the joy in his voice as he glided along the floor. But fear kept his head turned towards the door only as he slid away. “Okay! Thank you very much sir!”

Bistro shot the attendant a grin for him, instead. But for some reason, she could still feel goat eyes, suspicious, that bore into her back.

[Bistro 0]

The heart of the library was dim, with only light filtered at a low intensity illuminating sections of the room. A quiet, deafening silence hung in the air, just as the two entered, finding the different aisles and seating arrangements void of mythos inhabitants. It was apparent that it was still time for lunch.

Miru took his time to gleefully explore the library, slithering away like an uninhibited child. This left time for Bistro to look at the shelves alone, her eyes following the signage on the wooden shelves, of dark timber, the wood smoothed and pristine. 

She just needed a simple book -- an introductory to the different legendary creatures out in Aincrad. Would she find it under dragons? Or would it be a book listed under races? 

Bistro went with her former guess, going in between one of the shelves once she’d found its alphabet listing. D… DR…. A…

When she was certain of her instincts, she pulled out the dusty tome from the shelf -- clad in dark red leather, pages soaked cream with wear. She rested its spine upon her arm as she went through its papers delicately, searching for its index. 

Part of her was almost afraid to know that Miru had been right – that the language systems between Olympia and everywhere else she knew differed enough that she would not understand much from the book. But a miracle (or the system?) must’ve happened, for she could tell that under ‘I’ was imugi. There would be her answer. 

The creature’s powers lay within their ability to weather a long storm, one thousand years of monstrosity. Then, they would be eligible for catching a star from the heavens. But nothing about the book even mentioned the power of said star. She skimmed it, carefully but quick, from front to back.

Strange. But theoretically, Miru shouldn’t be able to reach out to catch a star. By Cardinal’s rule, they were merely imprints upon a box that projected out towards the sky… or something, if what one of her clients told her was right. Not that she was familiar with how the game worked, but she was certain that she was missing something important about the puzzle… something that wasn’t currently present in this book.

Don’t tell me…

Bistro had a hunch, the entire time she had been on Olympia. That part of her trial of the gods was to resolve Miru’s problems, for the quest hadn’t yet been eliminated from her sidebar, and neither was she capable of actually ridding the imugi from existence. What Dionysus had originally ordered did sour her suspicions, however. Yet she’d found it amicable to be hanging out with Miru, within or out of the system’s parameters. 

She hummed, closing the book. Then she started towards the library’s entrance once again, only hollering to Miru once she spotted him playing along the long desks, the serpent stretched out to see if it would accommodate his length. A wave of her hand, and Miru playfully bumbled back to her side. 

“So how goes the search, Bistro? Did you find anything that could help me?”

The alchemist hummed, before raising the book in her hand. “Sort of, but not really. All I could verify is what you told me, but I have a plan.”

“Oh, really? Do tell!”

Bistro folded her arms, smirking. 

“What if I made you a star instead?”

[Bistro 0]

Bistro was not of the divine. All she was is a player, and making a celestial body was more than a tall task. It spoke of the impossible.

Yet, determined to try, the duo found themselves an unused atelier at a corner of Olympia. In opposition to some utility storage, they gathered behind a counter, Bistro fumbling with the components in her hands. The room they were in was drenched in yellowed lighting, coming off a crystal-layered chandelier. The equipment for artisan use were gilded, metal and gold, and what furniture that wasn’t laid with plush cushions was instead sculpted from stone and marble. Despite the light, the room was surprisingly cool.

The alchemist told Miru to keep an eye out for any creature approaching, before she got to work. Though she wasn’t comfortable in using the tools she found, and neither was the system happy with what she was attempting to do, she was still capable of making a blown glass shell, completely from beginner’s luck. The pieces of failed bubbles simply crumbled into dust at the presence of a valid prototype; at least, to that respect, Bistro didn’t need to worry about cleaning up the mess.

The book, laid open in front of her, depicted a silhouette of the imugi reaching out towards a falling star.

A glowstone put into mortar, broken up by a pestle. Rubbing alcohol helped gather the pieces of the illuminatory rock. She was certain, upon contact with some player or another, that an artisan’s resin would settle if it were poured into the sphere. Not what Bistro wanted. The insides of the glass should look glittery, unfathomable and dynamic, and bright.

How should she seal it, though? More glass? The alchemist mulled over the issue just as Miru stuck his head over the counter, over where Bistro was sitting, hiding from plain view. Once she noticed the shadow, she hugged the star close to herself, looking up at him. “Hey! No peeking!”

“Aww,” Miru moaned. “But you’ve been working on that for so long, now!”

“Yeah.” All Bistro could do was grin, even at her friend’s disappointment. “And I’m almost done, but it’s still a surprise.”

The snake grunted, before withdrawing, returning back to his post. 

Not a moment later, however, and he came running back in, frenzied. “Bistro! You have to hide!”

“Huh?” She scooped the ball into her shirt, brushing aside the materials she’d used before. The book was the last to be picked up. “Why? Is someone coming?”

“Yeah! It’s someone big and scary—”

“Ah! Too late!”

Bistro could barely register what had happened, between the squeals of her friend retreating through the atelier’s door, and the slow rise of her figure, in her realization of there being a third party amongst them. And indeed, Miru was right, for the stranger amidst was big and scary — a goddess, for sure, even though the player wasn’t sure which one it was.

Said goddess was holding the imugi struggling from the tip of his tail. She turned, once she was done inspecting the snake, looking down upon Bistro with a look of dissatisfaction.

“If you let this thing in here, then you have a lot to answer for, mortal.”

[Bistro 0]

“Order! Order in the court!”

Between then and now, Bistro had been ushered along by the goddess’ stead, which was in contrast to her friend being held between his thumb and index. A satyr had been holding her hostage with a pointed tip of his weapon to her back. Professional guy, too, given that had he been present at the meal from earlier when Bistro was addressing Dionysus’ guard, he had not commented on her nuisances for the isle. At the very least, she was satisfied with being allowed to store the objects in her hand into her inventory.

They were led across the courtyard, and into another temple. Bistro only discovered the lady had been Aphrodite at one of the greetings of the hellenistic staff, but by then she had vanished behind a door, along with Miru, yelling for his friend in panic (“Don’t let her take me Bistro!”). Helpless, the alchemist-now-scoundrel could only feel guilt in watching him flounder. She, too, was at a loss for how to proceed.

The satyr was made to be a good guide, however. Into another room, this one circular, and Bistro found herself in front of a jury, mythical creatures of various sizes gawking down at her from the sides of the room. At one end was a different god entirely — Hermes himself, and her heart sank when she realized that Miru was missing.

A centaur slammed down a gavel, silencing the room. And, for some reason, Hermes was the one to speak in address to her.

“Human,” he uttered, as though it was a curse. He pointed towards the player and she tried her best not to shudder in fear. “You have been found guilty of trespassing into one of our artisan’s workshops. Furthermore, you were found consorting with an unfamiliar creature to these lands. How do you plead?”

Bistro simply blinked at the accusations. Not that they weren’t true, of course, but she was more shocked at how things got this far. Was this still part of the quest? The player took a few breaths, trying not to hiccup when Hermes pressed further. “Answer!”

“Guilty,” she replied, steeling herself for an inevitable fib. “But for good reason. Where is the creature right now?”

“We had it locked up,” the centaur mentioned, slamming his gavel down once more as the noise of the crowd rose in accordance to her plea. “We weren’t exactly sure what it was. Why were you with it, mortal?”

Oh, they don’t know?

Bistro rolled her eyes. She wasn’t used to playing coy, but she was certain the audience would buy her act given their distaste of ‘the other’. “Oh, sure, I’m guilty,” she corrected herself, “but not for that charge, no. If you don’t know, that thing is becoming a Nian.”

“A Nian,” Hermes repeated. “Then I know of that. What exactly is a Nian doing on our confines?”

Before Bistro could elaborate further, however, the centaur turned to the god with a look. So too did the jury start to murmur amongst themselves. “Sorry, sir, but what is a Nian in the first place?”

The god simply gestured to the player, a hand raised to call for silence. The hammer fell once more in accordance. “You will explain first what a Nian is for the court,” Hermes said, “and then you will tell us what it is doing here, out of all places.”

“Very well.” Despite only having a brief glimpse at the entry in her book, she was still certain she had the mythos of the creature down right in her memory. “A Nian is a ferocious creature, that usually approaches cities to terrorize them. Now, such a threat would be nothing to the gods, I’m sure, but you should know it is a force of nature.” 

“That is to say… it is indestructible.”

That got the jury talking. And it was a small fight to bring it to quiet once more.

“I followed it here,” Bistro reasoned, “Tracked it down. I was already in the vicinity for a different purpose, so I don’t exactly have the best resources to take care of it. The only thing that can conquer a Nian is its own fear. Where it comes from, they use this invention called a firework, which makes use of bamboo, or otherwise gunpowder. With the lack of these, I was in the middle of devising a solution, when I was sorely interrupted in my work.”

The crowd buzzed once more. Bistro held her breath, hoping the turn of her story was satisfactory for the god. And Hermes raised a brow, but demanded, “Elaborate, human. Didn’t Aphrodite catch that thing slithering to you?”

“Oh, she did! And to that, I’m quite grateful. Sure lucky she wasn’t bitten.” The player forced a smile, folding her arms. “But you must understand why I had to work in secrecy, alone. Even the prospect of going up against an indestructible foe had everyone talking, and you and I both know the best kept intel is one untold.”

She raised her hands, palms faced outwards. “It wasn’t as though I was trying to steal anything. Look – whoever owns that workshop can investigate. Nothing is missing except for some glass, I’m sure.”

The centaur snorted. “A bold move, I’m sure.”

Hermes merely contemplated this response.

[Bistro 0]

“So what is it you were trying to make, human?” The tone in his voice changed slightly, the vindication behind the word ‘human’ less grating, and more a matter of address. Bistro nodded, and pulled out the star she was trying to craft from earlier.

“Fireworks are supposed to be bright. Contrary to popular belief, the Nian isn’t afraid of loud noises. It’s intimidated by light.” A bold lie. Yet One of the scribes by the corner of the court groaned, issuing orders to some nearby gorgons for changes to be made in one of the books in the library. Bistro fought to grin at the sight. 

“So I was thinking a faux star shower would work. No need to bother Zeus for this issue. I heard he likes mortals doing his work for him, anyway. Isn’t that right, Hermes?”

Hermes grumbled. Bistro’s words were correct. A fowl beastman flew down from his stand towards her at the god’s orders, and retrieved the orb from her hands. Another soar, and her craft was in the judge’s hands.

“The issue I’ve found is that I’m only one person. I wouldn’t be able to mass produce these in the time it takes for that Nian to mature into a full-grown beast.” Bistro gestured, continuing to reason. “If you’ll excuse my forwardness, it would be a good idea to permit me to take charge of some of your craftsmen, so more of these lights could be created. That way, by nightfall, we could start the star shower and chase that Nian out before it’s too late.”

Hermes examined the craft in his hand. It was small, barely imperceptible, so held against the dark ceiling, even at a close distance the orb still looked like a star. He offered the orb to the centaur with a gentle touch. “No need,” he clarified, and for that moment Bistro felt the air in her lungs leave her. “I’ll hand this craft off to my men, for haste’s sake rather than perfection. Then we will reconvene to organize the shower. Mortal, what is your name?”

The turned-scoundrel blinked, frightened still, unsteady. “Bistro.”

“Bistro,” he echoed, and she knew now where that vindication had gone. “Since you’re the one with the big plan, you shall be the one to lead the chase, for it’s your life beneath my men.”

[Bistro 0]

It was under the cover of night that she was then released from her hold. Earlier in the day, one of the satyrs had taken her to the pegasi stables, under suspicion that she hadn’t ridden such a creature before (they were right). And, though uncomfortable, Bistro reasoned that the flying lessons were but a simple compromise in exchange for her friend’s life.

Neither was she able to catch sight of the imugi. She couldn’t have asked to seen Miru – surely, that would hint to the rest of the cast that they perhaps had a bond stronger than a hunter and their prey. All she could hope for when she was locked away in an unused sleeping quarters was that the serpent was going to be okay without her.

Her hopes were dashed soon enough.

Outside, the satyrs were lined up on their steeds, each of them having a standard looking equine, with leather bags strapped across their chest, brimming with stars just like the ones she’d made. Bistro was handed a bag by the centaur from earlier, whilst the bird man walked alongside it, leading a different colored pegasus from the troops’.

“Is it a special one?” Bistro questioned, as she was helped up onto it’s back.

“Oh,” the centaur muttered, dully as he watched. “It sure is special, indeed.”

To the alchemist, she was certain special in this case was not a good sign.

“You will take to the skies with the others,” he continued, once Bistro was saddled up safe. “Once there, you will start the shower with the first hurl of the star orb, and then we shall release the beast. Together, you will chase it out of Olympia. Do you understand?”

Bistro nodded, and goaded her steed to line up by the satyrs’. Not a moment too soon, and the first squad of riders were starting to take off. Trained, for they stayed in formation. And Bistro was simply the odd factor amongst the army of Olympia.

In the air, amongst the clouds, she decided not to think about it too much.

Once she was sufficiently high enough, all eyes were upon her. Each rider was ready with a sphere of light in their hands, and her prototype proved to have worked, for each of their faces was brightened by a honeyed glow of their ammunition. Bistro couldn’t help but smile, but fought it thinking about her imugi friend, still lost and alone on the mountain top. She brought out one of her own orbs from her satchel, before letting it loose to the ground. So too did the others follow.

“Over there!”

At the first smash of the orb against the courtyard grounds, she spotted that familiar slinking line weaving across the pavement, loose from a cage with satyrs jabbing at it with spears. Bistro pointed towards Miru, and started to fly closer to him, the others following. Not that she was in command. The sight of their target meant the satyrs had a single point to direct their tosses towards, and so did she, trying to keep her cover.

Her aim wasn’t very good. But neither were the satyrs’, it seemed. And neither could she read Miru’s state from the way he was weaving, but he was starting to coil upwards in his slithers, his usherers hanging back once he was out of his cage. Drop after drop of starlight, and his paws was reaching out to the ether too, that much she could tell. Yet, unlike what she’d read in her books, the imugi still hadn’t seemed to catch a star just yet.

“Faster!” One of the satyrs ordered. “More! Lob them at it! We have to chase it out!”

The satyrs cheered, each of them attempting to hone their shots towards the imugi. They got close, but never close enough to hit – until one did. And then another. And Bistro had flown in closer to ensure her shots weren’t hitting, close enough for herself to hear the yelps and squeaks of her friend being pelted.

“Wait!” She called out to the satyrs. “Stop! Don’t hit him!”

Miru’s continued whining only signaled to her that her cries were to no avail. The serpent danced this way and that, chasing the stars in a near linear manner, only moving zig-zagged in an attempt to catch the orbs for real. And yet, he slowed, quickening only to shift away from the areas he had been pelted at. Bistro watched the satyrs, in their jokes and guffaws, lead her friend to an edge of the mountaintop.

And she knew what they were trying to do.

“Stop! He can’t fly!”

It didn’t matter. The stars were now falling off Olympia, and so too did Miru reach out towards them in chase. Bistro knew that within a few more steps, the imugi would certainly fall. So she abandoned her post, satchel ripped off her form, only to give chase.

That was the moment of weakness each of the satyrs had quietly been expecting.

“It’s defecting!” “Down with the mortal!” “Get it!”

Her steed fought the wind in its descent. An obedient ride, fast and steady, it wasn’t the pegasus’ fault that when Bistro finally got close to Miru, his front had already dove into the skies.

And dipped down towards the atmosphere.

“No!”

Bistro stretched out her hand, her other on her leads. Chase him, she begged, chase him please. And it was almost as though the pegasus could read her, shooting down towards the falling snake. Among the falling stars, the imugi in freefall had barely noticed his friend on the equine.

Then one of the orbs shattered against the pegasus, and it brayed, shaking its rider off. The slip came suddenly, Bistro would recall — one moment, she caught the image of Miru but a gray line in the middle of her vision, and then suddenly she was the one seeing stars. The rockface of Olympia was but a blur in her turning. All she could make out from her fall was the flapping of wings still, from her ride, and it withdrawing from the hail of light and glass.

Bistro found herself in skyfall — alone.

[Bistro 0]

“Bistro?!”

Miru had been slow on the uptake – but give him credit, for in a frenzied rain, who wouldn’t have been distracted by their life’s own purpose? The player, falling faster than her snake, barely had the breath to respond, but Miru didn’t need one. He lunged out, weaving between orbs continued to be shot his way, and dove further – further – towards his friend.

“Hold on! I’ve got you!”

A flash of light – another orb broken? Blinded her for a quick moment. The air about her warmed up, and the feeling of liquid running down her legs. Bistro cursed her invention in a breath, just as she shut her eyes. A terrible idea, perhaps, to have made the orb almost like a flashbang. Yet, in her lightness of falling, it suddenly felt as though she was falling in front of herself, rather than behind. Smooth cool skin wrapped itself around her, and Bistro soon knew the security of being carried.

When she opened her eyes, she realized she was no longer falling. And the fur that tickled against her chin – she laid into it, holding onto the sides of the imugi.

No, not an imugi anymore. A dragon.

To the satyrs, it was as though they’d seen the fall of their foes, dipping down into the cumulus and forgotten by the night. Then suddenly, a pillar of light would shoot out from where they fell, and another of creamy white would reach out towards the sky. Accented by teal and gold, with ivory horns Olympia would be envious of, it was obvious their foe wasn’t a Nian by now. It danced in the sky, higher than their pegasi would even be willing to go, and a cheerful booming laughter of a child underscored their fake star shower.

Miru was a dancing banner of victory against the void.

Her shock had quietened the player for a spiel. He was much larger, quicker and graceful than he once was as a serpent. One lap, then two — Miru’s excitement had them circling around Olympia as the satyrs started to return to the courtyard, the dragon showing no signs of stopping. No wings – Miru wasn’t the type of dragon to have them. Bistro raised her head to her friend’s own from his back. 

“Miru?”

“Bistro!! Look— Look at me! Did you see what I did there?!”

For some reason, as Bistro watched her friend spin her around in circles, the vertigo didn’t get to her, but the shock of flying at all certainly did. Still speechless, Miru filled the silence with his own giggles, coming to a stop in midair as he coiled himself up, until he could see his friend clenched around his frame in disbelief.

“I’m a dragon now! A real dragon! I barely managed to catch a star — but I still did it! I saved you! I saved us!”

“You did,” Bistro finally returned, a smile returning to her face when the surprise finally faded, and she realized the strength of her friend. “You did! You certainly did!”

“I know, right?! Don’t I look cool now?”

The player nodded, leaning into the fur of the dragon. “Definitely. You look very nice.”

[Bistro 0]

The two shared a laugh amongst themselves, before they both caught wind of a yell from below. Directly above the place they both met – Dionysus’ temple – the god himself too was floating closer to the ground, goblet raised, hollering for their attention.

“You two?! You’re still here?! Get down here, right now!”

Bistro and Miru exchanged a look, before the dragon flew them both to the temple’s roof. Bistro hopped off her friend, and they both peered over the edge, curious.

“Whatever it is you want to say to one of us,” Miru shot back, proud but still wary, “you can say it to both of us!”

To a god, the distance between the roof and the floor was not too big. Yet, Dionysus had no mind of going up to meet his conversationalists, and simply rolled his eyes, staying where he stood. “You two have caused an awful lot of commotion this evening. And didn’t I send you on that forsaken quest to rid of that thing?” He gestured towards Miru, who shrunk back, and soured Bistro’s mood.

“Oh we’ll be rid of you soon,” she argued, leaning into her friend’s paws. “That, I’m certain of.”

Miru chuckled, to the god’s snarl.

“Fine! Be off.” With a snap of his hand, a decanter manifested itself on the ledge they were peering over, to which Bistro picked up quick before it slid off its slope. “Just don’t come back. Ever! I’ve got a mind to put you two on the blacklist of Olympia. Seriously, you’ve made the pest bigger!”

“And caused a lot of mayhem,” Miru commented back, to Bistro’s affirming nod. The dragon turned back to Dionysus with a grin, and cheerfully replied. “Alright! Be seeing you never! Thanks for having me up here in the first place!”

“We were trying to chase you off!”

With a tilt of his head, Miru gestured to his friend to climb on his back. The stars were out on a clear night on the mountaintop, which was long past humans’ bedtimes. “C’mon! I can take you home. Where do you stay?”

Bistro was paying more attention to the quest interface, almost stumbling into the celestial. “First floor,” she said absentmindedly.

“Alright! First floor of the castle. Let’s be off!”

It would only register later to the woman how strange it was that Miru would know the different floors of Aincrad. For now, she boarded her friend, and together they took off for distant lands.

Edited December 21, 2022 by Bistro

[Bistro 0]

She would never recall how the outskirts of Aincrad looked. All she knew was that it was a castle in the sky, and she believed the myths, because she felt it instead, wind across her face.

She did remember how Floor 1 looked from up high, however. The moment they left Olympia, Bistro’s cursor had changed to a shocking orange, which earned commentary from the duo once they noticed something was off. A simple reason for the infraction was found once she opened her inventory. 

“Oh. Miru, they think I stole their book.”

He chuckled, hovering in the air. “Well, that’s too bad for them! They told us never to go back there. I assume it’s yours now.”

Bistro shared that joy with a grin. “I assume you’re right.”

So they waited, passing the time for the cursor to wear off together by chatting in the skies.

“You did that,” Miru started, watching the spectacle of the Town of Beginnings from afar. “The star shower. For me?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Bistro confessed, a hand smoothing over her friend’s new mane. “I lied to them as much as you did, too.”

The dragon laughed, coiling himself together. “You don’t say! I heard them calling me a different creature altogether.”

“They didn’t hurt you while they kept you in that cage, did they?”

Miru shook his head. “No. Not until the stars hit me, but now those wounds are clear, too.”

Bistro smiled, but leaned into her friend. “That’s good. I’m sorry it happened, still.”

“It turned me into a dragon,” he clarified. “A real one! It was scary, but it was worth it, to me. Thank you for helping me.”

They sat in quiet for a bit, as Bistro gathered her courage. “No problem, Miru. I’m glad it was worth it.”

Another confession came, just as the silence settled in cozy. “You know, Bistro, I remembered something during my transformation.”

“Yeah?” At the dragon’s hum, she echoed it with her own. “What is it?”

“The star an imugi captures from on high.” Miru’s gaze turned to the sky, the stars twinkling different from the ones in his eyes. “They’re called Cintamani. When I caught you, that thought came to me, like a bolt from the blue! But also like a fact I forgot, long ago. Like I should’ve known all along, but couldn’t remember.”

Bistro’s stifled chuckle came across as a huff of amusement instead. “Does that make me your Cintamani then?”

“Don’t be embarrassing!” The dragon shot back, and they both laughed. “Maybe,” Miru concluded, sitting comfortably with fate’s transpirations. “Maybe, if you think you're full to call yourself that.”

“Oh, please,” she returned, grinning. “Never.”

When they were done speaking, they enjoyed the cool air together once more, before the cursor’s change wore off. Then Miru was careful, taking Bistro along only streets uncrowded, as she called the shots about where her shop was located. A fast delivery, the dragon dropped her off on her building’s roof, out of view of every player else, trying his best not to come into anyone’s view save the alchemist’s.

And as she slipped down to the ground floor, she grinned. Her hand on the handle of her workshop’s door, she returned Miru another look, beholding her friend’s growth after the ordeals they went through.

“Thanks for today, Miru.”

“You too, Bistro!” He swirled around in a complicated dance, before taking off to the skies, unseen. “See you again someday! Bye!”

***

So Bistro passed the trial off as a dream, until the next day came around. For the book was still in her possession when she woke, and so too was Dionysus’ decanter, on display somewhere out of spite to never be used by the stubborn alchemist.

The End.

Edited December 21, 2022 by Bistro