Everyone has been on their seats.
Everyone was seated. No one seemed to move. Each of them was busy with their part of the camp.
Fortiana polished the weapons with her habitual care, each swipe meticulous, casting gleams off the metal that danced in the firelight. Her attention to detail and care gave their weapons a certain gleam that adventurers enjoyed—she treated them as a master blacksmith might treasure a fine piece of work.
Ammonete was nose-deep in her bestiary, absorbed, while Phenix tore into his rations with the gusto of a man used to taking advantage of every moment of peace.
Henry Savoy came out of the woods, carrying a wooden tray he had fashioned from birchwood. He used Corruption with finesse, softening the wood selectively to carve and shape it with ease. Now it held an assortment of items: a half-empty bottle of brandy, still glowing amber from his recent creation, and five tankards, each laced with a different herbal infusion that gave off faint, tantalizing aromas.
"Are you three always this silent?" Henry teased, drawing their attention.
Phenix looked up, wiping crumbs from his mouth. "Only sometimes," he chuckled. "Just waiting for you to come back, really." His eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of the tray. "What's that? And where did you get that tray?"
Henry placed the tray down, his eyes glinting with amusement as he started handing each person a tankard. "Oh, don't worry about it," he said, his voice smug but warm. "Just try it—I made it myself."
Ammonete placed her book aside, eyeing the tankard Henry passed to her. She sniffed it, her expression changing from curiosity to delight as the scent of the drink wafted up to her. The deep gold color caught the fire's glow and held her attention—she had never seen a drink quite like this before.
"What is this?" Ammonete asked, her voice low.
"I call it 'Thyme's Up,'" Henry snickered. It was a terrible pun, but he was amused with himself. "Try it. Same goes for everyone."
She took a sip, and her eyes widened. The drink was sweet but complex, with a lingering hint of thyme that gave it an unexpected depth. Fortiana and Phenix followed suit, each taking a cautious sip before drinking more deeply.
Henry Savoy looked at them all, and he was scared at the rate they drank it.
They were like deserts so arid that any liquid that touches its cracked ground vanishes in a second. Then they finished and kept silent. They all looked at Henry Savoy, their eyes deadly serious like a family member just perished.
"Oi, Henry," Fortiana broke the silence, her gaze intense. "Where did you really get this?"
Henry grinned, savoring the dramatic pause. "I told you, I made it. What, something wrong with it?"
Phenix piped up, eyes shining. "Got more?"
"Yeah, that whole bottle's all I made for tonight though," Henry pointed at the bottle of grape juice he turned into wine then distilled into brandy.
Then everyone lit up and shouted together, their energy suddenly becoming lively. They started to pour themselves another time and Henry Savoy let out a snicker.
Typical, he thought.
He wasn't the sole mixer of the Walking Stick after all.
The others lit up, suddenly more lively, pouring themselves another tankard each, and Henry snickered to himself. It was a familiar scene. Back on Earth, people had often found him hard to work with, calling him smug and obnoxious. But when it came to drinks, he had a knack that few could deny. Henry Savoy had such great meticulousness when it came to ingredients and the exact amounts that he had developed a skill to eye precisely how much of this or that he should add to drinks.
"So, what do you think?" he asked, taking a sip from his own tankard, though he already anticipated their answer.
"Absolutely DIVINE!" Fortiana said with a pleased sigh, savoring each sip like she'd been parched for days.
Phenix chuckled, still eyeing the drink as though it held secrets he couldn't quite fathom. "I don't know who you really are, Henry, but anyone who can make something like this is a genius in my book."
Ammonete had finished her first sip, her gaze now steady on Henry. "Will you teach me?" she asked, her tone hopeful, almost shy.
He chuckled, scratching his head. "It's complicated… but I can try. I'm not the best teacher, though."
"I'll keep up!" Ammonete's enthusiasm was unmistakable.
With a smile, he leaned in and began explaining. "First, you start with fruit juice. Grapes, in this case. You leave it out for a while—like a long time—and let it do its thing. Eventually, it'll taste like the wine I gave you back at the guild. Once you have that, you pour it into a pot and heat it until it starts turning into vapor. Capture that vapor, cool it, and it'll turn back into liquid, stronger than before. That's it."
"That's it?!" Phenix flushed, the drink clearly making its presence felt. "So you're saying we're drinking something that should take months to make?"
"Normally, yes, that would be the case," Henry Savoy laughed. "But don't worry about that, it's good."
Ammonete, all the while, looks at Henry Savoy with great admiration, but one thing does not sit right. She had done that kind of experiment before, but it does not seem to work. Probably she was overlooking something and she has not left it long enough for that effect to happen. Either way, she will try to do it.
"Thank you, ser Henry," she smiled faintly before drinking more.
"No need for you to call me that. Just Henry would be good, Ammonete."
"Then," Ammonete faintly blushed as she realized that she raised her voice a little. Then she looked down and cupped the tankard in her hands. "Then… call me Monet."
Henry noticed this and snickered, patting her back. "Sure thing, Monet."
"You know, those two really seem to enjoy it, huh?" Henry smiled, looking at Fortiana and Phenix, who were now playfully bickering over who got the next pour.
Henry could only chuckle at the sight—it was clear they enjoyed his brandy more than he'd expected, and the thought brought a certain satisfaction. He hadn't just made a drink; he'd created an experience, a moment of camaraderie amid the darkness of Tearh.
Drinking's for it, anyway.
"Y-yeah, but they're… like that most times," Ammonete smiled back, taking another sip. "It's just, they like what you did that much."
"Well, I'll make some more then," Henry Savoy chuckled, finishing the brandy in his tankard before standing up.
He'd make some more of the drink—he'd try turning Apricia Wine into brandy this time. That ought to be a kicker.
And of course, he too was curious about what that fruit would taste like.