Conversing in the Tavern

Monkey and Soran were walking along the main road of River Valley. The evening was yet calm, but soon enough it would be sprawling with people as the town had quite the nightlife to speak of. Soran stretched his cloak over his body to avoid the evening desert chill, all the while Monkey did not seem to care for or even notice it.

Unlike the nooks and crannies they had been roaming about earlier, this part of town was lined by erect metal poles. At the top of each pole sat a glass box enforced with steel grilles, and inside of it a copper sphere. These were of recently engineered dwarf-making: "lightning lights" they were called. They served as lamps to light up the path of cities, and technicians would come round early morn and early dusk to either turn off or on these machines.

One of these technicians was seen down the road by Monkey turning the large cranks that activated the energy crystals within the capacitor of each individual pole. Each lamp made a deep humming noise upon being cranked, followed by a loud crackling of lightning that lit up the street in light blue hues. The lightning crackled on silently within the glass box afterward.

Monkey had never seen something like this before. It is true that he could not remember much of anything, but that did not mean his common knowledge was impaired. That is to say, he remembered the world in which he had inhabited and how it looked, but he could not remember these lightning machines.

"Look, Soran!" cried Monkey as he pointed toward the lit street lamps. "Those magic machines are lighting up the street. How ingenious!"

"Have you never seen such lights before? You must have lived in a most rural area before coming here. Might explain why nobody knows of you," said Soran trying to rationalize Monkey's lack of common knowledge. "These lights are of dwarven make. Thirty years ago they came down from their alps and trotted about from each city to the next, pitching their design to all kings and queens who may want their hands on them. After the company of dwarves had made their way throughout most of the explored world, they promptly returned back to their mountains."

"Ah, the dwarves, of course!" exclaimed Monkey as he grasped his chin and looked up at the sky as if he were to reminisce. "I've heard many stories about the dwarves and their craftsmanship, but never have I seen one in person. Do they come down often?"

"I've heard that their visitations used to be more frequent, but they've not been seen since they last came down. No one knows what happened, and no one dares to send convoys to those inhospitable dwarven lands to make sure all is safe and good. And, to make it clear, I've not seen one with my own two eyes either. I am still under the age of thirty, after all, if but barely."

"What a shame," said Monkey shaking his head. "It seems to be quite the mystery, but I've heard their mountains are northward—exactly where we're heading."

"You don't mean-"

"I do. Perhaps we shall find something relating to the Crying Monarch up there, where no man has treaded for the past thirty years! Our only clue comes from a seer who spoke of the north, it must have a correlation!"

Soran couldn't help but smile in intrigue.

"That notion certainly excites me. I, like many others, truly wish to know what happened. If we were to uncover the truth, we would certainly go down in legend as great adventurers, would we not?

"Exactly, that's the spirit I'm looking for! The time for adventure has dawned upon you, Soran! But first, we must eat," said Monkey before looking around for any potential sources of food, as if they were to be just laying about.

Soran took out his money pouch and looked inside only to be vastly disappointed by its contents, or rather, lack thereof.

"Monkey, first, let's go have a drink, shall we?"

And thus they traveled to the cheapest place that Soran knew and was a frequent customer of and barged in. As usual, only a few stragglers and mercenary types were seen sitting haphazardly around the bar.

"The usual, but make it two," ordered Soran as he entered the establishment.

"Right-o," said the bartender, before promptly slamming two wooden pints down on the counter.

"Put it on my tab," said Soran before handing one of the drinks to Monkey and seating themselves by an open window.

It was not the first time Soran had put things "on his tab" at this place due to lack of coin, but the bartender was kind enough to let it slip. Perhaps, too kind, as it was bad for business.

A cool breeze whisked through the window and caressed both of their legs, but it was warm inside, so Soran did not cower from the cold this time. The ale Soran had ordered was cheap, strong, and smelled faintly of yeast.

"Finally, something to dull the senses," exhaled Monkey after chugging half of the drink.

"I thought your affinity dispersed all toxins? Shouldn't alcohol qualify?"

"I can choose what to cleanse and what not to, it's my own magic that I control, after all," said Monkey before finishing his drink, then slamming it down on the table and ordering seconds.

Soran thought for a moment and then spoke.

"Then why did you not allow that alchemist to use the fungi on you? Perhaps we could have gotten some insight as to what this 'crying monarch' really is!"

Monkey chuckled.

"Oh, if I let myself be taken by such a toxin, would I not simply rampage throughout town? I think our alchemist friend there was willing to use it on me based on the fact that I neutralized toxins."

Soran couldn't help but nod his head in agreement. Then, another thought struck him.

"Your senses are so sharp, why would you want to dull them?" inquired Soran, not understanding why he would purposefully worsen his heightened state.

"It might seem great," answered Monkey before continuing, "but my senses are the one thing I cannot control. Whether it be gluttony, wrath, or even lust, my control over these falter much too easily. When I've let alcohol take its hold over me, I can dull them, letting me 'rest' for a moment."

"Would you really reckon those as senses? Gluttony, wrath, and lust are more akin to emotion, are they not?" Soran crossed his arm and waited patiently for an answer.

At first, Monkey seemed confused, but as if a light shone upon his face, his clarity seemed to come back.

"You must understand senses within the realm of the five, but I see a broader vision. One's senses are the tools to perceive reality, are they not? As such, everything that lets one perceive any form of reality is a sense. Am I making sense?"

"Sense or not, continue. I am listening."

"When one feels lust, the reality of their primal instincts is perceived. Thus, it is a sense. When greed or gluttony is felt, the reality of one's inner selfishness is perceived. Thus, it too is a sense. Envy and pride represent one's outer depravity, and sloth represents one's inner depravity, and each one is perceived. Thus, both are senses. Of course, the traditional 'five senses' are also oversensitive to me, if you wished to know."

Monkey put his feet up on the window sill and leaned back in his chair. Soran smoothly kept the conversation flowing.

"Are these not the seven cardinal sins you speak of?"

"There was that name for them, yes. Even though they've been given many different names throughout the years, the absolute ugliest one remained. That's certainly not gallant. Nay, not gallant at all," said Monkey before laughing modestly.

"But, isn't there one sin missing?" asked Soran.

Monkey's modest laugh slowly came to a halt as darkness seemed to shade their corner of the tavern.

"The seventh sense. Wrath," he said ominously. "It is the one sense that mustn't be spoken about so lightheartedly; it is the darkest of all of these so-called 'sins'."

Soran swallowed reflexively in response to Monkey's sudden and unexpected seriousness. Monkey then continued.

"Take your time in those tunnels as an example: from greed, gluttony, lust, envy, pride, and sloth, rewards can be reaped, but from wrath, only destruction can be gotten."

The innkeeper had set down two more mugs of ale at their table, and Monkey did not hesitate to chug the whole thing in one go before continuing further.

"These words were told to me by someone, sometime. However, this memory of mine lies behind a wall of unbreakable fog. I wish I could remember wherefrom this wisdom came, but at the very least I'm glad it stayed with me. It means I've woven it into the strings of my heart." Monkey pointed at Soran. "And you should too. Don't underestimate the darkness of wrath."

Unknown to Monkey, as well as most people who roamed about this world, Soran was in fact, well affiliated with wrath. Or, more properly said, he knew well the burden of it.

"I must say, that time in the tunnel will be my life's great shame, so let's keep it behind us. And I'll keep those words in mind," said Soran. "On another note, Monkey, where exactly did you come from before arriving here in River Valley?"

"Ah, I have not yet told you my story, or at least, the little of what I remember of it. So be it, I shall tell you in short." Monkey removed his legs from the window sill and leaned forwards as if he meant to speak in a hushed tone. "Roughly two moons ago, I awoke from a long slumber. I found myself in a strange, sun-speckled jungle. Many things were mysterious to me: everything was large and alive, as well as colorful. The creatures that inhabited this jungle had no place within my memory, and they were all strong and tremendously big. After finding the company of two brothers who showed me to their village, I got to learn about this new world. They called it the 'Confluence': the junction of two fates; the name had its origin in their profound culture. After spending time adjusting to my surroundings, and most importantly, myself—every sword becomes rusty if not drawn—I questioned their wisest elder regarding my memory of the Monarch, and he told me to seek guidance from the local 'star-seer', who later scryed the heavens and told me to travel north. Thus, I went on my way, with their blessings on the wind."

"And then you ended up here, is what you're telling me?" said Soran.

"Well, I passed a few lonesome settlements on the way. I also helped myself to some of their hospitality. Unmannered lot they were, though. Even though I defended one particular little group of people from this giant, angry, stone-boar thing, they still cast curses in my direction when I (most deservedly so) took two of their cows with me on my journey."

Soran, deep in thought, didn't pay attention to Monkey's jabbering. Instead, he connected many dots in his head before finally coming to a grand realization.

"Monkey, if you traveled northward through multiple settlements and ended up here, it means you must've come from the Far Lands!"

"You mentioned the Far Lands earlier when we were talking to that alchemist. You mean to say that the forest I woke up in is located in these oh-so fabled 'Far Lands'?"

"Precisely! You have acquired invaluable information just by spending time within those lands! Tell me more! Who was this star-seer you speak of? What of the two brothers, or the elder?"

With Soran listening attentively, Monkey proceeded to tell tall tales of his time spent in the deep reaches of the Far Lands. Stories of waterfalls and floating islands, blooming plants that devoured living things, giant creatures from birds to apes to lizards, tribes and local troubles as well as their cultures. To Soran, it was as if he was listening to a fairy tale meant for children, but the extraordinary thing was that it was true.

The Far Lands had many riches to claim despite the fact that only the outer northern rim had been explored. The deeper one delved, the more dangerous the journey.

"The way you speak of these lands: are you not native to them?" asked Soran intuitively, yet perplexed. "Where were you before you arrived there?"

"In a dark cavern of my own mind, I think," said Monkey, his mind not really certain. "I remember that I used to inhabit a land where the forests were smaller and darker, the terrain less majestic, and where war used to be between humans, not beasts."

"I thought it was nonsense when I heard it before, but did you say you served Angus the First when we first met in the avenue?"

"Yes! The only man worthy of my service; the only one who was greater than I. Angus the First, king of Rama Wisteria, ruler of its expansive plains and all its inhabitants. That is who I served before he passed of old age. We held for him the grandest funeral this world had ever seen—the whole nation was lined up across the plains to witness his grave place, overgrown with beautiful wisteria, and then we had a great statue built on top of his tomb. After his passing, however, I was quite lost for a while, without purpose. I'm not quite sure what happened after that, though. That is as far as my memory spans. I think I might've joined to fight for some cause, but I fail to remember."

Soran's eyes were wide and unblinking. He could barely process what he was hearing.

"Monkey, if what you say is true, then you come from an age long past. Angus the First passing occurred two centuries ago."

Though the truth was strange and seemed to defy reality, Monkey didn't look surprised. Instead, he just nodded his head heavily.

"I know that, Soran, as it has become clear to me throughout my journey northwards." Monkey's face sloped and his brows showed a saddened frown. "I can't even remember why I should feel empty or saddened at the thought of that fact, yet I do." Monkey, like usual, soon turned his darker demeanor into a more positive note once more, as he looked up and smiled. "Though I am sure that together we can find what I'm looking for. I'm glad I found a man of your caliber to help me on my journey, Soran. Otherwise, I would truly be lost."

Soran had been wholly invested in Monkey's story and had been empathizing with him, but the sudden compliment caught him off guard and he ended up scoffing at the comment.

"Well, I'm sure fate had some part in it or something, you can thank that instead, even though I don't really believe in fate."

"Are you being bashful?" Monkey exclaimed before laughing out loud.

"Bashful? Hardly, you must've spent too much time in that 'dark cavern of your mind' for you to think that," smirked Soran.

"Should I mention the tunnel incident again?"

"I'm surprised you still remember that with that memory of yours."

They laughed for a little bit, jabbing at each other's faults and weaknesses. Interrupting their merry moment, however, was a group of rascal mercenaries standing outside by their window. One of them leaned in and spoke up.

"Soran, buddy, good to see you!" he cheered.

Soran had a look of confusion on his face, and his forehead strained trying to remember who exactly was in front of him.

"It's me, you know, Vannis, from five years ago, during that expedition to slay the arch-fey," he said while expressively gesturing along with his explanation. Vannis was the type of person whose usage of body language grew equivalently with his enthusiasm. "I, uh, changed my appearance a bit since we last met. For no particular reason, of course, other than fashion!"

"Oh," uttered Soran in realization, albeit disappointedly. "Vannis, the Coward. You took all our rations and left our party to starve, just to save your own skin. If it hadn't been for Heneca's quick wits and knowledge of local fauna, we would surely have died."

Vannis laughed awkwardly while muttering excuses to both Soran as well as his own mercenary friends about how he knew that Heneca and her wits would have saved their party, that he only ran because he would have slowed them down, and that Soran must've misremembered the severity of the situation, among other attempts at manipulation. Eventually, he boiled it down to the original reason as to why he was here in the first place.

"I came here with a message; an invitation, actually. Now, you may think it sudden, but you and your compatriot here have been invited to a three-course dinner prepared by River Valley's most distinguished chefs, all orchestrated by the Jihno Trade Federation at the Ursula Hall in about an hour. Don't worry if you don't know the way—we are being paid to make sure you arrive safe and sound tonight. What say you?"

Both Soran, thinking about his empty pouch of money, and Monkey, thinking about his ever-growling stomach, stood up at the same time and said with certainty,

"Let's go now!"