A Gamer's Guide 349

Falling into routine is a funky thing—one day everything is new and strange and exotic, and then, all of a sudden, it’s been almost a full week and the leaves are starting to fall. Which, of course, means that I’ve been raking for three days straight. 

Cleaning up the garden hadn’t been much of a bother—remove the weeds, cut down the dead stuff, uncover old hidden treasures of unknown power… The usual. However, by that point, I had found that the lawn was in sore need of proper care. And Sune looked so lonely. And the garden seemed a bit empty without any flower beds or furniture or other decorations. I couldn’t have that, could I?

With the help of the goddess, I began to clear way for some proper sowing. A bush here, a bulb there… I even went ahead and planted a fruit tree! Though, with winter marching ever closer, that might not have been a good idea. 

My work in the garden wasn’t my only way to spend the time, of course. Telling the children stories of my misadventures became something of a daily rite, though I had to ensure that I kept them mostly PG. After some time, I went so far as to put up a firepit, where I spent a few evenings telling spooky stories to the kids once it was nice and dark outside. The fact that they’d never heard any of my tales made it all the funnier. The red lady, the tail, the hand hook car door, the rat in the pizza… Well, for that last one I had to first explain what a pizza was, and then that eating at a restaurant was fairly commonplace on Earth, and then furthermore that eating rats was taboo. That particular story didn’t spook them too much. Not sure why.

Unfortunately, Lett did not partake in these sessions. He spent his time in his room, never descending, always left out. When I asked the kids about him, they were either apathetic, or they didn’t much like him, mainly because he talked weirdly and was a know-it-all. I couldn’t really agree, but to kids his age, anything he said must have come across as pretentious at best. 

Not to mention that there was a rumor swirling around saying that Lett was the one summoning ghosts at night, using his evil magic powers. This was unlikely, but I still asked Lett about it, because, well… Yeah.

His response was a curt, “No.” I respected it, as any polite feller ought to do. 

Of course, I spent a lot of time with Lett. It wasn’t hard to usurp the position of food-bringer, largely helped by Lett’s assertion that he’d rather die than be fed mushy soup. Though valiant, I can’t help but consider the more subtle messages of the phrase… 

Either way, mealtime became an important facet of my daily life, which I came to enjoy very much. After some time, I eventually got bored of him always being the well-read one of us, so after some consultation with him, I began reading one of his books. History of the Dragonheart Engine was a fascinating read, even though I needed a fair bit of help from Lett to fully understand all of it. In times of sheer crisis, though, Rice was also a great help. I still can’t wrap my head around her entire back story, but apparently she knew enough about combustion engines to find dragonheart ones thoroughly fascinating. Her illiteracy meant that I had to read it aloud to her, but her insight was well worth the effort. 

In general, Rice eventually found a place in the hierarchy of the church, mainly in that she would occasionally go hunting, bringing back various animals to emboss lunch and supper with. A few of the older kids soon started coming along on her hunting trips, leading to a sort of apprenticeship between them. From what she’s told me, the second oldest boy has become skilled enough in such a brief period of time that Hunter is beginning to take an interest in him! 

The most pleasant development from day one has to be the company, though. There in the beginning, it was really starting to seem as though me and Rice were about to spend weeks, possibly months being shunned by Glyph and Holly. I’m really lucky Glyph and I had that talk, otherwise I might have been forced to walk around fearing glares this entire time. 

Not that Holly was too happy with Glyph’s sudden relaxation. No, even now, she still tries to keep distance between us, which I’ve decided to respect even though I don’t understand it. Glyph herself occasionally joins the spooky circle at night, where she seems to have found a singular joy in terrifying the children. Very frightening. 

Outside of that, she’s very active around the church. There are always things to be done, kids to be taught, meals to be cooked…

This is why I appreciate working in the garden, especially raking the leaves. Sure, it’s a job that’ll never end, and by the look of the trees around me it’s soon to get much less manageable, but it’s still predictable. Simple. Monotonous. The sky is gray, as it always is nowadays, but when contrasted by the vibrant greens, oranges and reds in the trees, it feels alive. The bushes are starting to grow into place, a few of the flower bulbs I sowed in a flowerbed along the edge of the mansion have begun to pop up, and I know exactly what I’ll be doing in the coming days. 

I’ll be raking, and watering the plants, and removing weeds that have begun to grow back. Perfectly predictable.

And now, to fully enjoy my time in the cold outside weather, I begin humming a little. The rake goes sweep sweep sweep, and just like that, a few more leaves are brought into the orderly pile on the edge of the garden. When I’ve gathered everything up, I’ll put them inside the stable and let them dry out to act as kindle for tonight’s fire. Yesterday, Rice brought home a hog of some sort, which I butchered into small pieces and left in my inventory to marinate. Once we place them on some skewers, and then char over the fire, it’ll make for a wonderful evening barbeque! Only the older kids will be allowed to join us at the fire, but that’s fine. They’ve proven to be a very interesting lot, with mixed ambitions and thoughts. I haven’t quite learned their names yet, but since I’ve established a tradition of beginning the spooky garden circle by saying your name and your greatest fear, I’ll be sure to get them eventually.

I smile to myself. Yeah, it’s going to be great. It’s a shame Lett won’t join us this time either, but I promised him I’d bring him a skewer once they were ready, so he won’t miss out too much. 

For now, though, I’ll need to consider what spooky story I’ll bring to the circle. I’ve already told them most of the ones I know from Earth, and I don’t really want to make one up… Hmmm… Would they consider a thorough explanation of the concept of taxes to be spooky? Does A Christmas Carol count as a ghost story, or is it more of a Christmas story? Or maybe I should go for the jugular and tell them the uncensored story of how I got this far… Hmm… So many options to choose from, so little time…

“Prince!” Rice shouts from across the garden. I pause my raking to watch as she rides up to me, still mounted on Grandma.

“What’s all the hubbub?” I ask, leaning onto my dearly trusted rake and looking up at her. If only I’d had a hat, I could take it off and do a real farmer’s ‘Greetings, sire.’ Even without it, I can still gesture at her—at her lack of both apprentices and prey. “Where’s Nils and Wernekke?”

“They decided to stay and accompany her,” Rice says, hopping down from Grandma. Now that I can see her face properly, I’m only left all the more confused. She isn’t smiling or anything, but she doesn’t seem especially upset, either. Still, the furrowed brows are sure to mean something. 

“Accompany who?” I ask her, taking Grandma’s reins.

Rice’s eyes train onto me. There’s something inexplicably grave about the look on her face. “The housemother has returned.”

“The… who?” I shake my head at her. “I have no idea who that is.”

“The housemother? The one who’s actually in charge of this church?” Rice’s lips dip into a frown. “Did you think Holly and Glyph managed this place on their own? A pair of humans?”

“Well, I just assumed that…” I shrug. “I don’t know. What’s the fuss about the housemother, anyways?”

“I’m not so sure either, but she seemed to be real curious about meeting us. You especially. If we wait too long I have a feeling she’ll start doing random chores around the house, so we’d better catch her quickly.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, leaving both Grandma and my rake in the shed. Together, we head towards the main entrance. The closer we get, the louder the voices of children become, all bustling and squealing about this or that. I can’t really make out individual voices, so it’s only once we’ve turned the corner of the house and gotten a good look that I can tell what’s going on.

There’s a carriage parked in the driveway in front of the church, plain and ordinary all the way down to the wood it’s made of. The only unusual part about would be the downright sodden state it’s in, with many parts of the wood splintered or rotten. I think I can even smell insects making a meal out of it, though if it was able to get all the way here, I’m sure it’s good enough.

The goblin sitting at the driver’s seat is entirely congruent with the shoddiness of the carriage, and his half-starved, aged drake is much the same. The only one who stands out from the rest, who looks completely out of place, is the one currently being crowded by almost the entire orphanage’s mass of children. 

“Now, now, calm yourselves! It’s only been a week or so,” she says warmly, stepping down from beside the driver. Her face is round and her body is stout, but that’s not what catches my attention. Instead, it’s her dress. A large part of it is hidden by a well-used apron, but what I can see is more confusing than anything. Either it’s been torn and repaired so many times it looks like a patchwork quilt, or it really is a patchwork quilt, repurposed into a dress. I genuinely can’t tell. “Nils, Yurrik, would you mind helping me unload the carriage? Brother Holst was so kind as to donate a rocking drake!”

The two chosen children—without any arguing whatsoever—quickly accept and move to complete the task, a number of other children soon following suit.

“There’s quite a bit to unload, so please help as well as you can!”

While I and Rice consider whether to approach or not, Glyph and Holly take the opportunity to step up to her, both apparently having heard of her advance before me. 

The housemother turns to them, smiling all the way up to her eyes. “Oh, there you are, girls! I was beginning to wonder. How has everything been? No troubles?”

To that, Holly shoots me a faraway glare, though Glyph answers before she can say anything. “Not at all,” she says. “Everything’s gone perfectly. That said, did you find any homes?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, the housemother begins to beam even more radiantly, like a little sun having descended on the earth. “I did! Oh, I met the most wonderful family… And then, over in Tar, a blacksmith was interested in taking on Karl and Pomm-Lytz!” Suddenly, she covered her mouth with her hand, as though she had spilled a great secret. “Oh, no, I mustn’t say any more.” She gestured at the kids bustling around the back of the carriage, hauling out books and furniture and various fooditems. Like an amazing pretender, she giggled, leaning in closer to the both of them. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for tonight, no?”

“No, of course not,” Holly says, her voice sounding unusually maternal.