There were far fewer trees by the cliff than before; the area was almost bare. This part of the island was considered off-limits, and few people could approach it in ordinary times. Farther back was the God of Sorrow's own little harbor, a simple place where one could board an alchemical boat bound for Trade Island.
Back when there had still been some trees here, Ruger and Mahama had traded punches in a clearing. They had all still been Wizard Apprentices then, and Big Guy had not been quite so big.
When Ruger finished speaking, Kurt froze for a moment.
The sea breeze blew past.
The two exchanged a smile.
Kurt looked curiously at the cups again, then raised the bottle to pour Ruger a drink. Clearly, he still had not understood that these were gifts for him, rather than some outrageous demand to share three cups of wine.
Smiling, Ruger turned his hand over and produced an ordinary cup, holding it beneath the approaching bottle to catch the wine pouring out.
This left Kurt momentarily stunned again, but the intriguing, meaningful smile on Ruger's face told him there was more to come. His curiosity deepened as he examined the three cups, lined up in a row yet apparently not to be used.
"These are gifts for you. I gave some to Mahama and Lord Zorn as well. These three were prepared especially for you."
Watching him examine them, Ruger slowly explained as he brought his half-full cup to his lips.
"They're... wine cups?" Kurt pointed at the silver-gray cup in the middle, whose sides were squirming slightly.
Ruger glanced at that cup.
"That one is rather lively. They aren't all like that," Ruger said.
Once he drank it, Mahama's Fine Wine soothed the mental power he had expended on