Story for a story

Sol leaned back against his seat, savoring the warmth of his meal as the energy slowly returned to his body. His mind, however, remained restless. The training, the illusions, the whispers in the bar—it all swirled together, reminding him that despite this moment of calm, he was still walking a precarious path.

As he set down his utensils, he glanced around the bar. The tension from earlier had faded, but he could still feel the occasional gaze lingering on him. He wasn't just another drifter anymore. He was someone people were starting to notice.

Peach stirred on his shoulder, letting out a soft trill before curling back up. Sol smirked, scratching the small creature gently. "Guess we're not invisible anymore, huh?"

Before he could dwell too much on the thought, the old man behind the counter spoke. "You planning to sit there all night, kid, or are you looking for something?"

Sol considered his words for a moment before answering. "Looking for information, actually. Figured a place like this is full of people who know things."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what you're looking for."

The old man studied Sol for a long moment before letting out a low chuckle. "You know, kid, you walk into this bar like you belong here, but you don't. Not really."

Sol smirked. "That obvious?"

The old man shrugged as he wiped down the counter. "Let's just say I've been running this place long enough to know when someone's got a different kind of weight on their shoulders. And you? You carry yourself like a man with something valuable to hide."

Sol remained silent, letting the words settle. The old man was sharp.

"Not prying, just curious," the bartender continued. "I've seen all kinds pass through the Den—mercs, bounty hunters, lost souls looking for an escape. But you…" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You don't seem like someone just drifting. You've got a purpose, whether you want to admit it or not."

Sol picked up his drink, swirling the liquid inside. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just passing through like everyone else."

The bartender laughed. "Sure, kid. Whatever helps you sleep at night. But I've got a feeling you're gonna be stirring up something sooner or later. And when that happens, I hope you know what you're doing."

He paused, eyeing Sol more carefully before leaning slightly forward, his voice dipping into something more thoughtful. "You know, I don't usually ask too many questions, but I'll admit you've got me curious. Folks don't just wander into the Sparkling Den without carrying a piece of something bigger. You ever had one of those moments, kid? A vision—something that sticks to you, makes you see things differently?"

Sol hesitated for a fraction of a second, carefully masking his reaction with a casual sip of his drink. The old man was perceptive, but Sol wasn't about to spill everything. "Everyone's got moments," he said, noncommittally. "Life has a way of showing you things, whether you want to see them or not."

The bartender nodded, accepting the vague answer but not entirely letting it go. "Fair enough. Just thought maybe you'd have a story worth sharing. You got the look of someone who's seen more than he lets on. But hey, can't blame a man for trying."

Then Sol tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Story for a story?"

The bartender let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head. "Alright, kid, you got me there. Fair trade."

He leaned against the counter, his expression shifting, becoming distant as he recalled something deep in his past. "Had a vision once. Not like a dream—something stronger. Felt like I was living it. At first, it was just a glimpse, nothing more than a feeling, but the more I tried to ignore it, the clearer it became. The first time, I only saw fragments—shadows moving through light, something massive turning in the void. But after I gave in, let myself see it fully… I stood at the edge of a burning world, watching the stars blink out one by one. Like someone was snuffing them out, like candles in the wind. And the worst part?" He paused, his fingers tightening slightly around the cloth he had been using to wipe the counter. "I wasn't afraid. Just… waiting. Like I knew something was coming for me, and I wasn't planning to run. Like it was inevitable."

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "And before you ask, no—I never saw anything again. The drink and the dish? They only work once. The vision never happens twice for the same person. One and done, whether you like what you see or not."

Sol mulled over those words, his mind turning over the differences between their visions. Why had the old man's been full of destruction and endings while his had been about creation? Why did one show the stars dying, and the other, something being born? Was there a connection, or was it just chance? And more importantly—what did it mean for him?

The bar had quieted. Patrons who had previously been caught up in their own conversations had turned, their interest piqued by the weight in the old man's voice. Even Sol found himself staring, intrigued.

The bartender let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Dunno what it meant, don't know if it was real or just some trick of the mind. But I'll tell you this, kid—sometimes, visions aren't about warning you. Sometimes, they're just reminding you of what's already set in stone."

He met Sol's gaze, eyes sharp yet unreadable. "Your turn."

Sol hesitated for a moment, gripping his drink slightly tighter. He knew he couldn't tell the full truth—his vision had shown him one of the ways divinity could be acquired. That knowledge alone was dangerous, something that could shift the balance of power in ways he wasn't ready for. No, he had to be careful with what he said.

He exhaled slowly, letting a small smirk tug at his lips as if he were recalling something distant. "Mine was... different," he said, keeping his tone light but vague. "I saw something being born—something vast. A presence unlike anything I've ever felt. It wasn't fire and stars going out. It was... creation. A force so overwhelming that I couldn't tell if it was shaping the universe or if the universe itself was bending to it. It whispered, but not in words I could understand. It wasn't just a vision—it was like I was being seen back."

He glanced at the bartender, gauging his reaction. "Didn't get a clear answer, but maybe that's the point. Maybe some visions aren't meant to tell you something obvious. Maybe they're just there to make sure you never stop looking."

The old man studied him, unreadable as ever, before a slow smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. "Hmph. You might have seen the birth of a god."

The moment those words left his mouth, the entire bar fell silent. The tension was palpable. Some of the patrons exchanged wary glances, the weight of the statement settling over them like a heavy fog. Seeing a celestial birth was something unheard of—something no normal person could endure without losing their mind. Their eyes darted to Sol, their expressions shifting, uncertainty creeping into their gazes.

Then, suddenly, the old man burst into laughter, his rough chuckles breaking the tension. "Just kidding! Who the hell knows what you saw, kid? Could've been a cosmic joke for all we know."

A few patrons groaned, some cursing under their breath. "You old shit, stop trying to scare us!" one of them barked, shaking his head in exasperation.

The murmur of conversation slowly resumed, the eerie silence broken, but a few people still sent lingering glances toward Sol. Even if the old man had laughed it off, the thought had been planted in their minds.

Sol took another sip of his drink, hiding his amusement. He had given them enough to chew on—just enough to stir their curiosity without revealing the dangerous truth.

But something about the old man gnawed at him. He had already sensed that the bartender wasn't ordinary, but this? The way he spoke, the intensity of his gaze—he hadn't just made a lucky guess. Sol didn't believe in coincidences like that. The man had picked up on something, maybe even more than Sol was comfortable with. 

He knew now. The old man wasn't someone to take lightly.

Sol's fingers tapped against his glass as he kept his expression relaxed, but inside, his mind sharpened with wariness. He had planned on staying in the Sparkling Den for a while longer, but now he knew—he needed to keep an eye on the old man. And more importantly, he needed to make sure the old man didn't start keeping too close of an eye on him.