To Trevor’s surprise, watching Drelik had been a lot more interesting than he expected. He had never watched sculptors work before, but he saw the care and effort the dwarf put in and became entranced by the process. Every stroke was purposeful, and time passed before either of them knew it.

It wasn’t until the sky started to turn dark when the two realized how much time had passed. The dwarf sighed in contentment as he looked at the Floatstone before him. A good chunk of the top was missing as he had started from there. It wasn’t looking like anything yet, and Trevor believed it would take a few weeks to become anything at all.

“Would you mind if I came back some other time?” Trevor asked as he stood up. His body ached from sitting still for so long, and he felt pins and needles on his legs. His stomach growled, and all he could think about were the taco bread balls that were probably freezing in his inventory.

Drelik looked surprised at the young man’s voice, and he turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot you were there.”

“No need to be sorry, Mr. Drelik. It was honestly really interesting to watch. Peaceful, even.”

That caused the dwarf to smile. “I know exactly what you mean, Trevor,” he said with a sigh. “I felt that way every time I watched Cindal working. If that’s how you feel, then I must be on the right track.”

“You’ll get there. Me, though, I ought to get back to the Hero House. It’s getting late.”

Nodding, Drelik stepped down from the stepladder he had been using and gestured for Trevor to follow him into the house. They walked to the front door but he didn’t open it, instead looking in a small cabinet situated in the foyer, and pulled out a small blowing horn no larger than the man’s thumb with an orange cloth around its middle and a leather cord strung through it.

“I want you to have this,” Drelik said as he offered Trevor the horn. “It’s a Trinket from the old days, one that I got a lot of use out of, but it needs a new home now.”

“Oh, I can’t accept that,” the young man said. “I was just doing my job.”

“Your job which I kept you from all day. I have no need of it, and thus I insist. It’s to thank you for staying with me, for listening to me talk about Cindal, and for helping out. Take it.”

Offering a strained smile, Trevor couldn’t help but remember how things were back in his old world. Even in such a position as retail, any tip a customer wanted to give was frowned upon by management. It didn’t matter if you helped someone out to their car with their groceries or went out of your way to find the last of an item hidden deep in the back room, it was against the rules.

But, he wasn’t in his old world anymore, and he always thought it was a stupid rule, anyway. Trevor also had the sense that any further refusal would not be taken as kindly as the first, so he bowed and accepted it. “Thank you, Mr. Drelik.”

[[New Trinket! You have received a Horn of Swift Heroics!

When you blow on this tiny, small horn, you become as swift as an out of control wracor. It only works once per day, but it raises your Speed stat by 2 for ten minutes.

Now get out there and get running!]]

“Oh, that’s really cool,” Trevor said as the Quest Master identified it for him.

“You are very welcome, Trevor,” Drelik made a motion like he just remembered something. “And to answer your question, yes. Come back any time. I’ll be working on Cindal’s statue for a few weeks, and I would love some company.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m looking forward to it.”

With another bow and a few good nights said between them, Trevor stepped out into the chilly air. The few moments of warmth while inside had been wonderful, but now he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

“Mr. Tiggles?” he called out as he walked to the street, but received no response. It made sense; the cat probably got tired of waiting for him.

Looking at the Horn of Swift Heroics in his hands, Trevor thought about the long trek back to the Hero House. The streets were well lit, but walking back home in the dark was something that he hadn’t liked doing back on Earth, and the feeling had apparently followed. So he took the Trinket in his hand, wiped it off on his coat, and blew it.

He had expected there to be some kind of sound like, well, like a horn, but nothing came out. Instead, his body felt energized and his walking speed increased noticeably. There was a strain in his muscles that he hadn’t felt before, but it wasn’t too terrible.

“Whoa,” he muttered to himself. “Okay, that’s weird but also pretty alright.”

Trevor started picking up speed until he was running through the streets. As he reached his top speed, he lamented that he didn’t run enough on Earth to know how fast he could go on account of his leg, but it wasn’t anywhere close to this. The ten minute walk through the residential district was cut down by a substantial amount as he made it to the bridge.

That was where he slowed down, however. He stopped halfway across and, putting his hands on his burning legs, bent over to wheeze. While his Strength was high and he was happy with the changes his body had undergone, the young man firmly decided that his Stamina was lacking.

“Can I… put a banked… point into Stamina… please?” he asked the air around him. The people crossing the bridge looked at him curiously, but he ignored them.

[[Stat increase complete. Stamina is now 2. You still have three (3) banked points remaining to be used at your leisure.]]

The burning feeling in his lungs and legs immediately left Trevor’s body as the stat went up. He breathed in a full breath before cautiously stretching. His body still moved faster under the effects of the Horn of Swift Heroics, but the strain it put on him was lessened by a not inconsiderable amount. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, and this time he sped up to a jog.

The Trinket’s effects lasted until Trevor made it to the main road that cut through town. The young man almost tripped over himself as it cut off and caused him to slow. Jogging with a Speed stat of 3 felt like light running at a stat of 1, and that left a pretty good comparison in his head.

Idly, as he continued on his path, he wondered what the highest Speed stat anyone had achieved was, and how fast they really were. It seemed like Stamina was needed to keep up with Speed and, by extension, Strength as well, so they would have to be raised close to each other at the very least.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

By the time Trevor arrived at the Hero House, he was breathing heavily but feeling satisfied. Jogging had been good for him after sitting for so long, and the fact that his leg wasn’t hurting aside from the light strain of effort was not lost on him. He stretched as he walked towards the communal space.

Warm air blasted him as he opened the door, and the lights turned on to greet him. Mr. Tiggles was here, resting on a large book on one of the tables, and the cat lazily lifted his head to watch the newcomer.

“Good evening, Mr. Tiggles,” Trevor said as he walked by, running a hand against the cat from head to tail.

“Purr,” Mr. Tiggles said before resting his head between his paws.

As Trevor made it to the counter, he pulled the taco bread balls out of his inventory. They were cold to the touch, but he realized they might not have been at a safe temperature up to now. His eyes fell on the refrigerator, and he opened it up to feel the cold air inside, and sighed.

“Should have thought about that this morning,” he lamented before looking for the trash can. It was nearby, made of stone, and didn’t have a liner in it. Trevor frowned before gingerly dropping one in. The taco bread ball hit the bottom and sat there for a few moments before combusting in a flash of fire.

Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise and concern, but the stone trash can was already clean by the time he reacted. With a laugh of wonderment, he threw the other bread balls into the garbage and watched them do the same. There was something about watching things disappear without a trace that was immensely satisfying.

His stomach complained that it wasn’t getting fed.

Sighing, he scanned the counter and returned to the fridge to figure out his options. There was half a loaf of bread in a box, and that meant sandwiches, but the issue was finding what went well on those sandwiches. He glanced towards the fruits and vegetables on the counter, noting that some were missing, and thought it over before looking back in the fridge.

Grabbing a glass of white liquid out of the stone appliance, he turned it to see the words “basically milk” written on the side. Arching an eyebrow, he took a closer look and saw that other containers had similar things written on it in English. There was basically butter, basically mayo, basically syrup, and more. A quick taste test of the milk in a cup he found confirmed that it was, in fact, milk. Enough like it to suit his needs, at least.

Glancing towards the bread box and the eggs, Trevor felt a craving for French toast, and started looking for everything he needed. He would have to thank somebody later; everything was very helpfully labeled including a spice rack in one of the cabinets.

The hard part was finding a whisk. He already knew where the pans were thanks to Adabelle’s cooking session this morning, and he found a bowl easily enough. Settling for a spoon, he cracked a few eggs and began mixing before slicing the bread.

“What are you doing?”

Trevor nearly leapt out of his skin as the voice came from behind him. With a pounding heart, he turned to see that Adabelle was standing a few tables away. He hadn’t heard her come in, and Mr. Tiggles remained asleep. He took a breath and tried to smile despite the clear amusement in her eyes.

“Making French toast,” he replied before turning his attention back to the food.

A line of batter had fallen onto the counter, and his first thought was to find a towel to wipe it off before realizing that he could deal with this in another way. Using his finger, he wiped up the batter and transferred it to his inventory. Trevor didn’t feel like adding it back into the bowl as he wasn’t sure how clean the counter actually was, but it was out of the way.

“Wayne mentioned something about the French before,” she mused, walking around to watch what he was doing. “Are you one of them?”

“No, I’m American, like Wayne,” Trevor stated. “From a different part of the country, though. I didn’t live anywhere near Texas.”

“I see.”

Adabelle continued to watch, and Trevor continued to work. “Does your interest mean that you’re done being mad?”

“… The mayor took a vacation, so I wasn’t able to give him a piece of my mind,” she hissed.

“That sucks, Lady,” Trevor replied, which earned him a glare, but he ignored it. “Excuse me, gotta get in front of the oven.”

When Adabelle gave him room, he activated it in the same way she had this morning, and watched with satisfaction as it heated up.

“Do you like fruit?” he asked, glancing at her.

Adabelle blinked before giving Trevor a hesitant nod, and he nodded to himself as he grabbed a few of the fruits that looked like green strawberries and red blueberries from the bowl. A quick taste of both showed that they were what he thought they were.

Maybe eating and cooking in this world is going to be super easy, Trevor thought to himself with great satisfaction.

He sliced up the fruit and plated the French toast before offering it to Adabelle with a knife and fork. She stared at it before looking up at him. “You sure?”

Trevor’s stomach growled loudly. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, disregarding his body with a smile. “You make me breakfast, I make you breakfast. Seems like a fair deal to me. I recommend it with butter and syrup, but that’s completely up to you.”

Adabelle frowned, but took the plate and walked off to one of the tables. “Thanks,” she mumbled quietly, almost to the point where he couldn’t hear, and he turned around before he smiled to himself.

Getting everything ready for his own batch, his smile turned into a grin as he heard her cut into the food. It wasn’t anything special, French toast was French toast, but listening to the sound of silverware on a ceramic plate was nice. Trevor didn’t dare turn around and watch, feeling like that would be creepy, but he imagined she was enjoying it.

As he was finishing up his own food, she returned to wash her plate in the sink. “What did you think?” Trevor asked.

“Seems like it was just regular freedom toast to me,” she stated.

“Freedom toast?” Trevor snorted.

“That’s what Wayne calls it. But every time he does it’s with a little smile, like there’s some great joke he’s playing on us,” Adabelle said before wrinkling her nose. “It’s… not actually called freedom toast, is it?”

“Dang Texans,” the young man snorted, but it was from a place of amusement. “Yeah. It’s French toast, not freedom toast. Has he made freedom fries yet?”

She shook her head. “Mentioned it, but never made it.”

“Also called French fries. I’m afraid Wayne’s been misrepresenting Earth.” Despite that, Trevor found that he didn’t dislike it. If the man wanted to make stuff up in another universe, then that was his prerogative. As long as he didn’t have some kind of die hard personality, then it was fine.

“That sounds just like Wayne, then,” Adabelle sighed.

“They should be back soon, right?” Trevor asked as he prepared to go sit down.

“Should have been back tonight, but if they’re a little late then it’s no problem,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Wayne and Rashie are both good adventurers, and nothing around here will really stop them. Sometimes there’s complications, but nothing they can't handle.”

“Sounds good, I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

“And I look forward to getting some sleep,” Adabelle said as she ran her fingers through her thick, tangled white hair. “With Jackson mysteriously disappearing, that means I’m taking over some of his duties. Without warning. Again. On top of my own, no less. I don’t have anyone to delegate to, so it’s just more work from morning to night.”

“That sounds rough. Boss disappears a lot, then?” Trevor asked sympathetically.

“You could say that. If he had told me in advance, then…,” she trailed off. Her eyes widened slightly before she glanced at Trevor, and she sighed. “Thank you for the food. I’m heading home, now.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, lady,” he said, grinning. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” she said. Adabelle picked up Mr. Tiggles and carried him to the door. The cat barely moved as he hung limply in her arms. At the door, she paused and turned around. “Seven o’clock sharp, breakfast.”

“I’ll be there,” Trevor said with a wave as she left the communal space. Still grinning, he grabbed his food and began chowing down, finally allowing himself to eat.