“So… a hotel?” Luka asked, gently pushing away his plate.

  He, along with Annie, Vlad, and Jear, sat at the picnic table. Dinner was over, and every last scrap of sliced meat, sharp cheese, and crisp cracker was gone—only crumbs remained. The wine was dry, the jrum cold. Little Leo had some water remaining in his bowl, but he was too busy watching a grass gecko drink from it to drink the rest himself.

  All eyes fell to Jear. The high elf took a moment to breathe, gearing herself up for… something. She was sitting beside Luka, the lovers opposite them. She also sat facing the new world tree, carefully checking on Ressen throughout the meal.

  A bristling rush of wind skirted through the forest and blunted against hers and Luka’s back. Vaguely, the World Walker heard a distant melody, a song of encouragement and love. He quirked an eyebrow.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  The wind had caused Jear’s hard expression to soften, but she was startled at Luka’s question. “You heard that?” she asked.

  “Was it… singing? I heard singing.” Annie said, swirling what was left of her glowing crimson wine in her glass. She wasn’t one for drinking in front of her alcoholic father but since he was the one who packed the picnic… she begrudgingly drank it—especially since the root beer was gone.

  The vintage was imported all the way from the Shimmering Sands Vineyard, and—as the glow suggested—was magical. It was a sample bottle for the park. If she and a few other wine drinkers liked it, they would add it to the park. She wasn’t sold on the price per bottle, however. The magical effect wasn’t very potent—night vision. Well, a very muted, very bad thermal vision.

  “Yes,” Jear said through gritted teeth. “That was my husband.”

  “Oh,” Luka said casually, “Hey Tannin, how are you?”

  “No—” The Elven Consort sighed and stood from the table. “He doesn’t—” She mashed her lips together, frowning. “I just…”

  Another breeze wafted through the forest and into the clearing. Again, there was singing—apologetic and stoic? Luka wasn’t sure. He glanced at Annie, and she likewise attempted to puzzle out the emotions before giving up.

  “My husband has made a decision without talking to me,” Jear seethed. “You two are now akin to family.”

  “Not Vladdy?” Annie instantly asked, almost as if she was expecting this.

  “Honey,” Vlad swallowed when she looked at him. “I, uh, if the magical World Tree doesn’t want me to be part of ‘his family’ I’m not going to sulk.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “Not a literal ‘family,’” She locked eyes with Jear. “Tannin made us something closer to ‘emergency contacts,’ right? In case you’re not around and something happens with Ressen?”

  Jear considered the questions. “Hmm. Emergency contacts, yes… I like the imagery. Is that a common directive on Earth?”

  “More or less, especially for kids or the elderly.”

  “But still,” Annie mumbled. “Why isn’t Vlad part of this? He’s as responsible as me or Dad.”

  Another breeze rushed through the clearing. There was more singing, this time it was short, embarrassed, and guilty. Annie, Luka, and Jear all instantly understood Tannin’s meaning.

  “Oh,” Annie said. She craned back to look at Ressen, specifically the crumbled root beer keg in her exposed roots. She turned back to Vlad. “Tannin said he’ll include you when Ressen isn’t made at you anymore.”

  “What?” Vlad asked, recoiling. He stared incredulously at the tree. “She’s mad at me!?”

  Jear cleared her throat. “She, uh, doesn’t like you because you didn’t bring her any root beer.”

  Vladdy moved to stand, his long blonde hair catching the light of the flickering glyph torches. “I’ll go get some more—”

  “It won’t work. Trees don’t drink like us humanoids do. You need special ingredients and,” Jear sighed, “special brewing techniques. It’s a lengthy, time-consuming process. Don’t worry about it, Ressen’s just being a baby. She’ll—”

  A person-wide root unearthed itself and slammed the picnic table, smashing it along with everything on it. Everyone jumped back, splattered with glass and ceramic shards.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “No, Ressen! Bad girl!” Jear instantly yelled, marching over to the base of her daughter. “You can’t throw a tantrum and not expect to get punished!” She continued to shout, her slender hand pointing sternly and punctuating her sentences with a flicking motion.

  Luka sighed, summoning his magic to repair and clean the table and everything else that was broken. “You okay there little buddy?” he asked Leo, who was hesitantly sniffing the wreckage. Leo looked at him and nodded before giving Ressen the stink eye.

  “And it was such a nice dinner, too,” Annie said. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “No need to apologize to me. This is par for the course as far as I’m considered.” He paused and fixed his tone to something sweeter. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Annie snorted. “Well, fine.” Her eyes drifted to the imposing, yet small, Jear. “I’m going to see if she needs any help.” She gave Vlad a peck on the cheek then departed the group.

  Vlad shook his head and watched her go. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?” Luka asked.

  “Be so nonchalant about everything. Like a magical tree just smashed our table, almost killing us, and you’re like ‘yeah, okay, ha ha.’”

  The World Walker and former bomb engineer bitterly smiled. “Yeah. You’ve just got to remind yourself that Ressen’s a newborn.”

  “Still, she could’ve hurt Annie. I don’t know what I would have done.”

  A hint of darkness stirred in the back of Luka’s mind. “Yeah.”

  He didn’t say his thoughts—hell, he actually pushed his thoughts away. He knew exactly what he’d do if Annie got hurt, and that scared him. Instead, he put on a smile for his son-in-law and clapped him on the back.

  “This world has magical healing and the park has a few patron gods. Annie was never in danger, and if she was, I’m sure someone would have intervened.”

  Vlad considered that. He wasn’t around for everything involving Annie’s reincarnation, but he had heard the story enough times from everyone present that day. He conceded Luka’s point and returned his gaze to Ressen.

  “So, we’ve got a newborn magical tree in our backyard who just wants a sip of root beer?”

  Luka chuckled at the question. “This world is always interesting, huh?” A beat passed before he said. “You should pray to the Goddess of Brews asking for guidance. If she’s unable to give you the technique and brewing ingredients, I feel sure she’ll tell you where to find or buy them.”

  The gods weren’t supposed to help World Walker Park and its inhabitants anymore. There was to be no divine favoritism! Luckily that didn’t apply to followers of gods who pray for guidance. It was a loophole Luka noticed the first time Vladdy was gifted something by the Goddess of Brews. And it was also a loophole he kept in the back of his mind for a rainy day… if the need ever arose.

  Vlad sighed. “Hopefully.” He turned and started back home. “Tell Annie I’ll see her at home. I get the feeling you guys are going to have a long night.”

  Luka glanced up at the night sky. The moon was out and bright, Neb’s stars glowing and moving with the god’s every whim. Luka pushed away his fatigue. It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  It took some coaxing—well, a lot of coaxing. And promises of tree-drinkable root beer. And some magical type of fertilizer Jear promised. But eventually, Ressen agreed to allow the bottom thirty stories of her trunk to be turned into rooms, balconies, and amenities.

  But Luka decided to leave for that morning. Instead, he took Leo and Annie back to the village, dropping the latter off at her and Vlad’s small home and taking the former to their room at Todd’s bar and inn.

  Crashing onto his bed well past midnight, Luka made sure to claim his spot on the mattress before Leo could hog the whole bed. Leo paused at the foot of the bed, resting his chin on the covers. He eyed his rider suspiciously before letting out a long, high-pitched whine.

  “Nope!” Luka said. “I got here first fair and square.”

  Leo increased his whine.

  “Not going to happen.”

  Leo whined more.

  “I’m just going to have to move you when you get up here, what’s the point?”

  Leo ceased his whining but continued to stare, unblinking and firm.

  Luka felt something crumble inside him. “Fine. But tomorrow I get the middle of the bed!”

  Leo barked happily and hopped onto the bed the moment his rider moved and promptly curled up on the center. It took a few minutes of awkwardly pushing the wolf around, but eventually Luka was content with his sleeping arrangements. And sleep came to both of them…

  “World Walker,” a chilling voice said.

  Luka jolted awake, magic forming to his will. Wood was ripped from the floorboards and formed into deadly spikes. They hovered around the bed, ready to fire.

  “Who—” The question died on Luka’s lips and his spikes fell harmlessly to the floor. “God Hyrin.” He said the god’s name with a bit of enmity. This was now the second time the god had scared him in his bedroom.

  The god, still creepily tall and with strange, moving hair, loomed in the corner of the room. “Apologies. I see I have startled you.”

  “Yep,” Luka said coldly. “What do you need?”

  “I wished to inform you that my envoy will be arriving in the morrow.”

  The World Walker sighed. “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “Alright. I’ll find a place for your barbershop.”

  “Gooooood,” the god said, long and slow. “I will inform them that they are to sew the park’s uniforms before they are allowed to open their doors to service hair for park guests.”

  Luka tried not to show his annoyance. “Fine. Now, if there’s anything else, I’d like to sleep.”

  “Of course, World Walker. Again, apologies for startling you…”

  And with that, the god faded from his room.

  “That was weird,” Luka muttered to Leo, who nodded in agreement.