Last night’s roast was fantastic, just like I’d predicted. With yams, no less! And seasonings, and greens, and hearty beer, and seasonings. And did I mention the seasonings? Why, yes I did. The cook is some kind of genius. Of course, farmer Larade was there, which was an unexpected disappointment. Has he ever said a kind word to anyone in his short time on this world? Oh well, I can’t foretell every little thing, but at least I get the important stuff right! And there was more roast beef with breakfast, the perfect complement to eggs, toast, and coffee.
Habistaw opened the tavern doors and stepped into the morning sunshine. It was going to be a beautiful day, and it didn’t require powers of divination to see that. The sky was clear and already a little warm. A gentle and unseasonably comfortable breeze drifted through the courtyard while the humans began their tasks and chores. A few horses were being saddled for the couriers, and they seemed happy for the chance to stretch their legs under the sun. The steady beat of hammer on anvil could be heard, declaring that Lexera was already hard at work. It was like a divine symphony warming up and tuning, ready to inundate the senses with another new and unique masterpiece. Horses, anvils, breezes, breakfast (smell and taste), sunshine, birds, bugs, arguments, laughter, footsteps, dirt, and so much more were all very present. Even emotions seemed to waft through the air in nearly visible streams; hope, ennui, love, desire, anger, worry, and mirth all sat together in their own section of the celestial orchestra, ready to add the wonders of the intangible to the priceless mundane.
The gates were already open, and the Music made him feel like taking a walk. Today was a day to be outdoors, and he could practically smell the inspiration on the breeze as he walked through the nearby pastures. The locals were mostly kind and viewed his trespassings as curious and amusing, so he didn’t worry about where he wandered. He inhaled deeply. Yes, yes, yes, I can definitely smell the inspiration. The Music was certainly building some tension out here. The cow pies were a strange place to receive guidance from the Great Beyond, but he couldn’t deny the efficacy of his foretellings the last time he was in the fields. Larade might still torment him over it, but it was singular experience; all you had to do was break apart the really fresh ones and you could easily make out the angelic script in the leavings.
Standing alone in the open field, he looked around and inhaled deeply. Quite fragrant, really. It reminded him of that special seasoned sauce the cook puts on the chicken sometimes… barba something-or-other. It was a little odd that he was back out here, since the Great Wisdom of the Cosmos had never revealed itself the same way twice. Maybe it was enough that he was in a different field (and not Larade’s, thank goodness). He sat down next to an older cow pie as the Music reached a crescendo. He broke it open, expecting the smell of barbecue sauce (that’s what it’s called!) but…
…the Music hushed to a sudden piano and Habistaw was transported by the sun on his own warm eyelids and the whispering grass and the smell not of cow pies but, coconuts? He felt younger, and was reminded of his adolescence in the Empire Proper, laughing with friends and drinking a strange concoction that used coconuts and a sweet, yellow fruit. Those were good days, to be young, when every experience was brand new and something to explore and savor. Of the many memories of his youth, coconuts were one of his favorites. He developed quite an obsession for them for awhile, and tried pairing them with almost everything. And then a new theme rose from the primordial symphony, or perhaps an old one; it was a drinking song that he used to know, but with words sung in the common tongue instead of gnomish.
Yes! Another step on the path to our destinies! I must get back to my room and find a way to write it down immediately! I’ve never had a prophecy in song before. How wonderfully exhilarating! I believe Ariza and her friends should see this at once.
Habistaw skipped merrily all the way back to the Inn, smelling fresh coconut as he waved half of a forgotten cow pie under his nose. It was probably a good thing that his little coconut mania ended badly back then (a story for another day) or else he may have absently taken a bite as he went. As he skipped through the courtyard and up to his rooms he was oblivious to the stares of the laborers and soldiers, many of whom put their hands over their mouths to hide their smiles and giggles.
It was going to be a long evening for Habistaw, and he had no idea it was coming.