Ruger had always been careful when choosing drinking cups. Even Mona, who had already advanced to a Two-Ring Wizard, had only received a One-Ring cup. But Zorn was special and deserved special treatment. Ruger intended to give him a Third Ring cup, letting this veteran Three-Ring Wizard with a love of liquor experience its power firsthand and laying the groundwork for what came next.
Ruger chuckled. In fact, even as a Two-Ring Wizard, he still used an Apprentice-level cup on the rare occasions he drank, mostly in conjunction with sleep meditation.
Mona gave him a strange look, then led the way into the courtyard.
The moment they entered, Varin greeted him with a delighted look. She apparently had not expected Ruger to return that very day. But the tall One-Ring Wizard immediately turned to Mona, seemingly believing, just as Ruger did, that coincidences involving a Prophecy Wizard were never really coincidences.
"That seems to be a rather ingrained assumption..."
Ruger spoke with a smile. Varin smiled at his words, while Mona merely shrugged helplessly.
If there was one thing guaranteed to happen around a Prophecy Wizard, it was being misunderstood by friends in all sorts of ways. There was no controlling it, either. Right or wrong, their friends would always have their own interpretations.
The dining table had been moved into the courtyard, with a large grill beside it. A medium-sized, elongated Crystal Stove had already swallowed enough magic stones and begun spewing waves of heat.
Ruger surveyed the familiar courtyard. For a while, he and Mahama had stood on the rooftop every day, watching the world slowly fall.
Mahama had not arrived yet.
Everyone else was busy. Wizard Zorn sat alone beside the long table, sipping his wine. One whiff told Ruger it was the most common Sour Mushroom