Chapter 72. Quests are a Thing of the Past.

  “Let that rest, then use this to strain those bits out.” Lief suggested, giving Beck what looked to be a spoon.

  However, rather than a slightly dipped feeding shovel on one end, like a spoon should have. This thing had tens of holes throughout. Beck didn’t understand it. Neat little spoon though.

  Lief then poured himself a cup, adding a small pinch of crumbles as well. Stirred graciously, then once more. Collecting the bits in the current. Knocking the spoon thing against a wooden plate that already had a collection growing.

  Lief walked to the corner trough of aerating soils. Letting the tea touch his lips he sipped, licked the warmth clean—sissy drink.

  He then looked at the black dirt before him. Beautiful. This soil would be so rich for growth when he has finished the tinctures. As is it could hold moisture for quite some time. Only problem was it was just to dense. It crushed the roots before they had time to grow strong. Raking his fingers through. Tossing the dirt gracefully. Really mixing the guano all together.

  Something was working in that mixture. Lief might not of been able to feel it right now, but Beck could. The boy undoubtedly had stars in Playing-in-Dirt. As a burrowing Mountain Dwarf, Beck kind of wanted to play in the dirt too. It looked like fun.

  That energy Beck was feeling, it was closer to Natures-Aid—well it was Natures-Aid—Lief was a do-gooder for the plants. Kid liked growing things. Ever since that day at Father Longleihgs House for Unwanted House Guests—Don’t worry about that guy or place right now, that is some dark shit.

  “When is good Lief?” The words came slowly, while Beck watched the chunks of only Lief knew what, sink to the bottom of his cup.

  Lief then plucked some mint from his hanging pot and went to his water trough and did his best to wash his hands.

  “Go ahead and scoop it out Beck.”

  Beck was too distracted with watching the boy wash his hands. That was the same water he just scooped for the tea.

  “Lief, I don’t want to be rude.”

  Lief turned to listen to more clearly.

  “Is that your only water up here?”

  Lief looked back at his trough, pulling his hands over his shirt and trousers drying them. “Yes, why? Something wrong with the tea?” Lief smelled the trough. “Should be okay I got this water earlier last week. No build up or growth yet.” He dipped his finger, dragging it across the inner walls. Lief pressed his finger and thumb together with a light rubbing motion, feeling for mildew or a slimy build up. He shrugged with a crooked lip and wiped his fingers dry. “Its fine Beck, beside after a few cups of my tea you won’t care.” He assured.

  Beck looked at his brew and drank. All those dissolving flakes and the dried herbs and mushroom bits and everything that the pint had to offer. All gone—well, no that’s not true, some of the bits filtered, not with the strainer spoon though.

  There, lingering in that moist drippy mustache. Some of the herbs were caught, falling only to be forever lost in that long beard that mimicked the color and enthusiasm of an upside-down fire. Lief looked at him with disgust, he wanted Beck to sip his blend and enjoy it with the pipe tobacco.

  “How was it?” it was a question as flat as his stare. He already knew though. Just by the way Beck lifted his brows and those little green eyes pulsated with dilation, that single gulp hit the spot—no, it absolutely obliterated it.

  “Egh, hyich.” Beck burped a drunkish burp before his tongue rolled the words free. “I don’t know Lief maybe you stick to rules.” He blinked hard and wiped his mouth, staring only for a moment at his hand before wiping it in that facial bonfire.

  Lief smiled, he knew his tea was strong. More so now, now that he had figured out how to bleed the stem of a dripping toadstool, collecting and drying the residue. Letting the flakes melt into his teas, it was far superior to that of any wine or black mead—the boy had a bright and bullying star in Green-Thumbs. It was only a matter of time before he started to dabble with shrooms, the rascal.

  “Well, hmph, let’s have another pint boy. Always have something twice just in-case it wasn’t done proper the first time.” Beck laughed, tamping the pipe. “And fetch your mother’s tobacco that is a smooth blend—er if that’s alright with you that is.” Prideful guy almost forgot his manners. What’s gotten in to him.

  The unsettling curve around Lief’s lips grew. This would be far too easy. He scooped another kettle of water and put more tea flakes in the catch. Reached for the burner and set the tea. He walked over to his bookshelf, knocking into one of his mints as he stepped past—Lief barely had a sip—I know right, what the hell was in that tea, give me the big cup, right?

  “Ha ha haaa ha!” Beck roared reaching for him. “Be careful boy.” Beck laughed while holding Lief steady, while he steadied the swinging pot.

  Once Lief stepped away, Beck quickly reached over. Grabbing the small brass cup Lief’s side of the table. Pinky out—remember them manners Beck. Gulp. Smooth like the mixing colors of oranges and pinks of the setting sky outside. He stifled a chunky burp and wiped his hand before Lief returned and opened the jade vase.

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  “That’s good boy, you are a sweet Lief aren’t ya?” Beck pinched from the vase. Spilling with each body jolting hiccup.

  Lief felt his face warm with a tingle. The muscle in his jaw ached hearing the nickname.

  “Thank you, Lief. That should be plenty.” He barely managed but a single pinch into the pipe. The collecting on the floor was quite the opposite, and that golden ribbon was starting to pool up around him. It was hard to load a bowl when it dodged his fingers.

  He was losing the battle too. There were three then two, now three again. The pipes in his hand multiplied and swapped places. Back and forth the pipes taunted him. Any time he thought he was about to pack the tobacco, it cascaded gracefully to the floor. Beck could only continue to shake his head trying to focus. Was it him that was swaying back and forth or was the tower wobbly in the wind. Trees sway with the wind, do towers? You couldn’t see it, but the edge of his lip twitched with the thought.

  Lief watched while the dwarf struggle. There was an internal shift that made him want to think about reconsidering. He’d known Beck for at least 4 cycles now. Beck was his friend—kind of, Beck didn’t go out of his way to check up the boy or anything like that. He was just friendly. Always greeted the kid when he seen him.

  Lief did okay on his own—I hear ya ‘what? On his own, isn’t he like 13?’ yeah he is. Its alright, it was a different time then, plus that’s how Lief liked it. If he ever wanted, he was more then welcome to the cot that would always be there for him in Beck’s room, on the ground floor. Hell, he was even welcome to taking the good blanket and pillow, but Lief was a determined kid. And Becks style of living wasn’t that bad either he was a prideful dwarf, so I’m sure you can imagine the boy would have been taken care of.

  However, that Phantom Quill of Envy, its ink was soul staining. It writes in bold if the innocence has been torn. The power corrupts, and makes the heart sick. The deeper the stain, the more temptation plays through.

  “May I?”

  Lief reached his hand out, or in Becks visions four of them. Damn kid was willey too. Why would he shuffle his hand like that when offering help. Beck really had to try and mimic the motions.

  Lief was not moving—it was the tea, thought I would clear it up for that guy in the back.

  Lief reached out, small hands grabbed Becks wavy arm and removed the pipe. Pinched some from the spilt pile on the floor. Packed the bowl. Tight and improperly. Even in this state of mind Beck noticed.

  “Easy boy. Hmph, I still need to draw air through it.” Dwarf deserves a star in Slurred-Speech.

  Lief simply nodded to the correction. He placed the pipe between the Dwarfs’ lips. Grabbing the wick, he let the flame hover above the golden-brown ribbon. Then tossed it into the busted urn he would let people use for an ashtray—or well, he would have let them us it, had anyone ever came up.

  “Thank you, Lief. Now, let’s talk about that quest!” Beck howled with excitement, and he slammed a balled-up fist against the tea table causing the cups to hop.

  “Quests are a thing of the past Beck. Instead, how would you like to do the first conquest?” Lief offered, Beck took a heavy draw from the pipe.

  “Conquest?” Beck repeated the word.

  “Yes, a quest bound with a contract saying if you complete the deed then I am obligated to reward you, and if not then it is perfectly fine we both go about our days.”

  Beck puffed again thoughts swirling like the curl of smoke emitting from the pipe. Then he answered. “Well, that sounds great!” He slammed his fist again. “I’m going to be the first one to try this conquest.” So prideful. “I’ll find a reward at the end, and you’re going to reward me when it’s completed… why haven’t conquests been a thing yet?” Beck asked releasing thick curling rings of smoke, creating a thick haze in the room.

  “It’s my rules Beck, I can only suspect that the Seven are finally seeing my true potential.” He answered, walking to his cot, grabbing the red leather book, he began scratching something on the paper.

  I( ) agree to the request to give my freewill to the command of Lief Suvalitol. I( ) will honor this contract and abide by the guidelines he has written for me, and me alone. I( ) will do everything in my power and might, to do as he wishes. As he requests. As he needs. Now and forever. Lief is new king, the savior, my God. I( ) will protect Lief from all danger. Any threat. I( ) will push back all who oppose my God. I ( ) suffocating the flame of protest and disobedience to his laws.

  Lief stood up and silently read the conquest, or in his words, conn-quest—little clever twerp, only Beck would sign some bullshit like that.

  “Okay Beck, I’ll just need you to sign here, here, here, here, and here.” Lief said sharply, pointing out the blanks. “Oh, and just once more down here, sorry I’ve never written one of these before, but I do know I need a signature.”

  Beck puffed the pipe, looking at the writing. Holding the parchment with both hands while he sip the tobacco. Brows lifting at the big letters. They were beautiful symbols without a doubt. The boy could write straight and evenly all the way through the page. Nodding with approved admiration he followed each word to the end. Curiously looking at the small dots, just like this one. Eyes scrolled from bottom to top—truly though, who gives a shit about a piece of paper. Just tell the man what you need and shake hands. If a man isn’t worth a fucking handshake, what’s he worth than.

  Lief jumped at the low whistle of the tea kettle requesting to be removed from the burner.

  “No need to read it over it’s a pretty basic agreement.” He said hastily over his shoulder before pouring Beck a fresh pint of tea. Should I add the crumbs? It was a simple thought, and he looked over his shoulder once more.

  “Do it—” A thought answered back, then another and another. “Add them all—make her proud—this is how it starts—Lief’s Law—go on child—add the fucking crumbs already—now Lief—get it started—start the process—grab the fucking crumbs—AAAAHHHH!”

  He jolted as the scream ripped through his mind. Quickly grabbing the jar of crusty dried residue he dumped it into the cup. He even tapped the bottom end. He didn't know what the voices were, but he certainly didn't like them. The boy could be obedient at times. More so when there was a force behind it.

  “Oh, I can’t read Lief, just tell Beck what you need.”

  Lief's lips slightly lost their sinister edge as they came to a narrow. “Can you write your name at least” he asked pulling the pipe from Becks lips, holding the pint still.

  “Hmph.” Beck pondered on this. Could he write his name? Never tried before. Couldn’t be to hard. Beck. Its possible he could figure it out, if he wanted. Meh, what’s the point in learning to write your name. Seriously what good is that going to him—hasn’t helped me much. “No.” that much time to think if he could write his name, and honestly he was still thinking about it.

  Lief let out a slow and heavy breath. One that irritated the booger in Beck’s nose. Pinching the brim of nose and rubbing his brow. Lief walked over to a bookshelf and grabbed tight rolls of parchment, and an old quill from his box of things. It’s a damn good thing he had plenty of free pages to write on, not to mention the bottle of ink he was planning on trading.

  “I can show you how to write your name at the very least Beck, you will need to know that for the coming season to go on more conquests.” Lief smiled with book and quill in hand, knowing the troubled filled task before him—like I said, stars in Determination.