Despite the absolute insanity of the day, Luka found himself sitting amongst friends and family for a late dinner. There, of course, were Annie and Vlad, Eve and Franky, Tram and Ben, Ren and Nicole, Vale and Sol. Dire-wolves Leo and Franky, as well as Olive the emu lounged under the moonlight, drifting to sleep or chasing bugs.

  But there were also new faces, namely Jear and Gilded Beast, King Orris. The Elven Consort slurped a bowl of stew and noodles, completely uncaring of her hunched-over appearance or lack of manners. No one cared, in fact, as they all were doing the exact same thing—dinner was just that good.

  Sitting with his beastly peers, Orris likewise ate stew and noodles, but instead of slurping, he simply poured the bowl down his throat. Content with the taste, the capybara-cat creature snuggled into Leo’s white fur, cushioning his head like a royal pillow.

  “That’s a good doggy,” Orris muttered, his eyes fluttering shut. He was a very tired man! It took a lot of energy to command the whims of peasants!

  Leo craned his massive head over, staring down at the little King. Then, with a shrug, the dire-wolf laid back and fell asleep himself. Sebby did the same. And Olive… well, Olive was finally free from her liege’s oversight and quickly darted across the trimmed clearing toward Eve. She practically crashed into her rider.

  “Hey, watch out Olive!” Eve snapped, catching herself from falling off her chair. “What have I told you about running into people?”

  Olive ignored the lecture, plopped down into the grass, and happily rested her long neck across her rider’s lap. She snuggled up against Eve and closed her eyes.

  Eve huffed and softly asked, “How am I supposed to be mad at you when you do this?” She stroked her bird’s feathers.

  The group sat below Ressen and within her garden. Around the World Tree’s edge, a moat pond was teeming with life. Small critters and magical and mundane flora dotted the water’s edge, thriving from the newfound oasis. Emberwood Forest was by no means a desert, but here, around Ressen, lifeforce overflowed from the soil and wafted through the air. Harmony, that was the only word to describe it.

  The clearing around Ressen was broken up into three parts: the first was the entrance to the World Tree Inn. It was expansive, beautiful, and “always open” for guests to come and go. The second was the Beastly Hotel—newly named by King Orris himself—and took up the entire backside of the clearing. It still needed work, Luka recently added a few hay-filled barns and stables for the many mounts staying on property.

  “It still needs a fence,” Luka said to Tram and Ben. “The goal is to have it ‘free range,’ so to speak, with amenities mounts might like. Salt licks, chew toys, play equipment, self-refilling water bowls. Since Ressen pacifies beasts and monsters within her influence, we don’t have to worry about cat fights.”

  “Good!” Judge Ben said. “People care for their mounts. We couldn’t forget about them.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mayor Tram muttered. “But we’ll need to hire someone to maintain the Beastly Hotel. Stable hands, in other words.”

  Luka rolled his eyes and looked over the newest of the three sections around Ressen: World Walker Park’s first ever employee retreat, the very place they sat in.

  It was the smallest of the three areas, but it was by far the most serene. It was supposed to be relaxing—a place for park employees to come at the end of a shift or on break to get away from the craziness of it all. Nature shrouded the area, covering it like a jungle. Rock structures emerged from the ground, each shaped like long lost statues and/or ancient ruins. It was a theme, sure, but that did not matter. Because here, it felt real.

  Here, under Ressen’s canopy, time stopped.

  Here, within regenerative mists and serenading natural sounds, Luka and his friends sat on chairs made of soft fabric. They kicked their legs up, lounged around a firepit that burned emerald green flames, toasting marshmallows and chomping chocolate bars. Stonework marked a path through the dense foliage, hidden, like venturing each step brought one closer to the heart of the world.

  “I feel strange,” Vale, the resident former eldritch god-thing, said.

  “Strange looking?” Franky asked, before falling into a fit of laughter. Some others chuckled at the joke.

  “You jest, but I am infinitely more beautiful than you, brute.”

  Vale took the form of a female demon. She, like Stell Metus, wore sunglasses to hide her piercing red eyes. But, where Stell wore them to combat the strange magic that his gaze produced, Vale simply liked how they looked on her—she had created her body without such a limitation.

  More laughs sounded, though Luka wasn’t sure who their laughs were at—were they directed at Franky because of a “sick” burn? Or were they still focused on Vale, mainly because the response was so…terribly unfunny? Vale wasn’t one for humor, it was a concept she still struggled with. Which, in Luka’s mind, made the situation more funny.

  “She got you good, Franky,” Luka said, smirking as if he was the only one in on the joke—because maybe he was. Did others view people in the same way as him? His mind instantly went to Eve. She always seemed to know what people were thinking…at least with him.

  She noticed him looking at her and smiled. “What?” she asked.

  Luka stirred awkwardly. “Nothing. I was just thinking about you—”

  “Dude, that’s my sister!” Franky snapped.

  The outburst silenced the area, and only the crackling flames of the firepit filled the air. At least, until Franky’s laughter bellowed out like a steam train. Uncaring of his volume, the orc wheezed and cried, his joke only funny to him.

  “Right-o,” Luka flatly said. “I was going to say, I was thinking about you and your aunt helping me tomorrow. I want to build a new ride.”

  Everyone listened to his words, but only one tuned him out. That was Ren, the little orc chef that could. He frowned, scoffed silently to himself, then went back to roasting his marshmallow on a stick. It was perfectly golden brown before he pulled it from the heat. Nicole was next to ignore Luka and handed Ren a sweet cracker and chocolate, and soon the pair had a dessert to split.

  Nicole practically grew wings when she took a bite. “This needs to be on the menu,” she whispered, clutching her doll, Mr. Sticky, close. “Everyone will love it.”

  Ren nibbled his piece, eyeing it critically. “It could be better…”

  “What kind of ride?” Sol asked, interested. “We’ve still got those mages at the park. So, we can’t do a very large project. They’ll want in.” Her raven headdress cawed to punctuate her disdain for the Guild Mages.

  “Hold your dire-wolves,” Tram interrupted before Luka could respond, “are you sure right now is the best time to build something new? We have three VIPs in the park and are dealing with that gnomish gang.”

  Luka bit his lip awkwardly. “Uh, actually… we don’t have to worry about Gnomeeee anymore. I made a deal with Crime Lord Lannis—”

  “You what!?” Tram yelled.

  Expecting the outrage, Luka held up his hands, surrendering. “It’s not as bad as you think. He’s bribing Gnomeeee to stay away from the park. In return, I’m brewing five potions for him—one of which is to help him and his wife conceive, and not some horrible dangerous mix.”

  Before the Mayor could respond, Vlad spoke up, “Do… do you think magical root beer is a thing? Could I alchemically brew a potion of root beer?”

  Sol answered, “Alchemy isn’t like that. It’s not literal brewing. What you’re thinking of is magical distilling. That is a process that could make magical root beer.”

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  It was then Luka noticed the curmudgeon old raven was holding and nursing a mug of fizzy root beer. “You’re a fan, I take it?” he asked.

  Sol smirked. “It is acceptable.”

  “She asked me for three kegs an hour ago,” Vlad said, smiling… only for that smile to fade when Sol glared at him.

  Through all of this, Tram’s outrage was steadily growing. Until she popped. “You. Made. A. Deal. With. A. Crime. Lord?” she demanded of Luka.

  Luka sighed. He hated to pull his trump card, but felt it was needed here. “I figured it was a good way to start a relationship with the man. After all, if the Guild can’t procure some of the more… esoteric reagents I need for our special little potion, then we’re going to need someone that deals behind the curtain, so to speak.”

  He was, of course, referring to potions of reincarnation—the very thing promising a miracle to the residents of Emberwood Village… and was also a very closely guarded secret. World Walker Park was already popular enough. If word got out Luka could bring back the dead? There would be armies marching by morning.

  Tram froze at his words. “Maybe you’re right,” she darkly muttered. “Just maybe.”

  Luka breathed a sigh of relief.

  Jear, who had been mostly silent tonight, looked strangely at Luka. “’Special little potion?’” she asked, her eyes baggy from a lack of sleep. Motherhood did that to a person.

  Annie answered by not answering—a deflection tactic she learned from her job on Earth. “Ignore him,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Come on, let’s go check on Ressen then get you to bed. You need rest.”

  Jear considered her words for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right. Thank you.” The Elven Consort allowed herself to be led away by the young World Walker.

  “So, what kind of ride?” Eve asked, filling the void.

  “Something thrilling, surely!” Vale said, interest fluttering through her devilish smile. “Please, Luka? Something thrilling? Please? Please?”

  “What are you, a child?” Franky asked.

  “I heard that!” snapped Nicole. “If Vale’s a child, then I’m a rock!”

  Ren glanced up. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means, I’m less of a rock than Vale!”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Yes, it does!”

  “No—”

  Ben loudly sighed, took one last gulp of his root beer, and said, “I think it’s about time for you kids to get to bed.”

  “Noooo!”

  “Please can we stay up? Please, please, please?”

  Franky’s hand darted out, gesturing wildly at the child. Vale rolled her eyes.

  “Can we stay to hear what Luka plans to build at least?” Nicole asked, batting her wooden dryad eyes.

  Ben sighed, caving in. “Fine, fine!”

  “Weakling,” muttered Tram, mirth in her voice.

  All eyes turned to Luka. “I was thinking a drop tower,” he said. “It raises guests up, then drops them to the ground very fast, catching them at the last moment.”

  Eve’s eyes went wide. “Sounds terrifying.”

  Vale and Franky’s, on the other hand, turned narrow. “No, it sounds awesome!” the latter shouted. “It sounds thrilling,” the former said, a hint of alien-god-eldritch-thing born violence cresting her lips.

  Ren muttered, “I was hoping for a new restaurant.”

  Nicole almost bopped him on the head. “He just made the ice cream counter in the Whirlpool Tavern! He even let you create your own flavor! Don’t be a sore loser just because your ice cream is the least popular!”

  It was true. Ren’s ice cream, Ren’s Delight, was the least popular flavor by far. That was, mainly, because of the flavor itself: salt. The boy made a salt flavor. Just salt. Milk, egg yolk, sugar, salt. A lot of salt.

  “Shuddup,” Ren slurred, stomping off toward his bed. Nicole followed one step behind him, apologizing. Ben followed as well, off to tuck in the youngsters.

  “What’ll be the theme of the ride?” Eve then asked.

  “I was thinking it would be called Monolith, and be part of the Constellation Kingdom,” Luka replied.

  “Monolith? You mean that thing in the storyline for Whirlpool Plunge that creates the never-ending storm?”

  “Yup. I was thinking we could tie the monoliths into each of the themed lands of the park. Maybe add an overarching story to the park itself. Something like how the monoliths are anchor points to each of the separate ‘worlds’ guests can visit to build up the mystique.”

  Eve’s eyes shot open, an idea forming. “We could add effects to each of the entrances to the themed lands! Like portals or tears in space or something!?”

  Luka snapped his fingers. “Good idea. We could even—”

  “Booooring!” interrupted Vale.

  “Attention span of a child,” muttered Franky.

  She ignored him, turned to Luka, and said, “Blow something up again!”

  The World Walker froze. He would never “blow something up” again, as she was implying. He would never hurt anyone again. But. And a big but:

  Fireworks.

  Every sizable park on Earth had them. World Walker Park would be the same. Of course, he could use illusions—and he likely would—but in explaining the concept of fireworks to Vale, Luka may need to give a live demonstration.

  With a sigh, Luka held his hand out, his magic taking over. In an instant, a rock flew to his hand. He etched carvings into it, covering it with purposefully imperfect glyphs. The rock swelled with power, pulsing to anyone who could see magic. He then handed it to Franky. The brutish orc smiled at the object before hurling it into the open air. The rock went high, but far, far from reaching Ressen’s lowest branch.

  Luka’s magic smothered the area, ceasing all sound from leaving his influence—he didn’t want to startle the nearby guests. The rock exploded into magically impowered shards, each streaking overhead like, well, a firework.

  The shrapnel burnt away into dust after a heartbeat or two.

  Vale clapped her hands. “Another!” she demanded.

  The others smiled expectantly at him, obviously wanting more as well. Luka thought about Ben caving into Ren and Nicole and suddenly had sympathy for the man. Bringing happiness to people was like a drug. A drug Luka had no problem using.

  “Another!” sang Vale and Franky together.

  “No, guys,” Luka said after the fifth firework. “I’ve made enough—”

  “Please, please, please?!” they asked together, again.

  “Who’s the child now,” Eve mocked.

  Franky stuck his tongue out at her.

  “Your brother, it seems,” Tram harshly laughed.

  “Ha ha!” Vale quipped. “She called you the child!”

  “I know you are but what am I?”

  The question stumped the alien-eldritch-horror-ultimate-bloodthirsty-god-thing. “Huh,” was all she said, her mind reeling.

  It was then, in the silence brought to fruition by Vale’s working mind, a new presence landed beside the good with a dull thud. Someone had jumped from Ressen—from high up.

  Everyone spun, finding a young woman.

  Princess Alexandra stood from her landing, coughed awkwardly, then adopted her royal smile. “Hello. I couldn’t help but notice some exploding lights and thought I’d jump down and join in. May I join, or do I have to go back to my guards and sit alone in my ‘penthouse?’”

  As the closest—and most startled—person to the princess’ landing, Vladdy had practically leaped out of his seat and into the dirt. Without getting up and brushing himself off, he asked, wide eyed and flabbergasted, “Y-you jumped from the penthouse—uh, your highness or whatever?”

  Eve mumbled, “You are so lucky your wife’s not around to see you.”

  Alex simply said, “Yes. During my tour, my tour guide said the penthouse had a divine blessing and I could leap from the balcony safely—so I did.”

  Luka eyed her. She was young, likely just pushing twenty. From her tone, she was bored. And from her status as princess, she likely didn’t have very many friends—especially ones who could travel with her on official “princessy-outings.” Judging by the tight fitting all-black clothes she wore, Luka wouldn’t have been surprised if Alex meant to sneak away from her guard detail tonight anyway.

  So, could she stay or not? The answer was obviously “yes.” Here she was safe, the last thing he wanted was an accident to happen on the park’s watch.

  It was the tour guide who showed the penthouse to the princess that answered her. “Yes!” Franky said. “Take any chair! We were just begging Luka here to make more fireworks, then we might play cards.”

  Princess Alex scanned her eyes across the soft lawn chairs. She chose the one directly beside Franky’s. “I’ve never played cards before,” she said. “You’ll have to teach me.”

  “Of course! I’m by far the best card player here, so you’ve picked a good teacher!”

  Alex inched the chair closer to his.

  As Vale argued she was the better card player, Eve and Luka shared a look—a knowing look.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t,” Vlad said, standing from the dirt. “I’ve got to check on Annie. Maybe we’ll come back if we don’t get to sleep early.”

  “Same for me,” Tram said. “You kids have fun now.”

  Then, without a word, Sol turned into a raven and flew off.

  Just like that, it was just Luka, Eve, Franky, Vale, and Princess Alex who remained. Luka fished through his pocket, pulling out a small metal carton.

  “Do you partake, Princess?” he asked, shaking the smokes holder.

  “Is that… prism puff?” she asked, scandalized. “I would nev—” The words died on her lips when she watched Franky take out his own carton and started rolling paper.

  Alex straightened her back, adjusted her clothes, and said, “I would like to try some, thank you.”