Let Your Feelings Age With Wine | Chapter Three

[odorekijin]

chapter three

[Western Country—Rural Town]

Rutile: 《 Ortonik Setomaouge 》

Arthur: 《 Pernoctant Nixzo 》

Without a moment’s hesitation, Rutile and Arthur came to the rescue, the glasses floating back onto the tray in one fell swoop.

The man’s jaw dropped at the magical feat.

Man: Are you… wizards?

Bracing myself for the worst, the man suddenly broke into a smile.

Man: Pheeew, you really had my back there! Thanks a bunch! You should have seen me yesterday, breaking glasses left and right. I thought for sure I wouldn’t have any left for the festival.

Shylock: I’m glad to see you unhurt but, please, be careful with the tray and mind your steps next time.

We do not always have such considerate and selfless wizards among us.

Perhaps the commotion piquing their interest, two women, who happened to pass by, joined our conversation.

Woman: Dear me, wizards in our midst? You can only be friends of our Bacchus then, correct?

Murr: Spot on! In fact, we came to see him!

Woman: My oh my, what news! Oh, this Bacchus, I wish he had warned us that such admirable friends of his were visiting.

We may be still setting up for the festival, but we’ll prepare some wine and accompanying snacks for you. Now that you’ve come, don’t be shy and enjoy the festivities to your heart’s content.

Arthur: Gladly, and thank you for your kindness.

Rutile: I’m really looking forward to the harvest festival!

Ostracization and prejudices against wizards still hold strong, and Western Country is no exception—but I could hardly feel that vehemence in this town.

Akira: Looks like this town is pretty open to wizards; they all treated you like old friends.

Shylock: That is possible entirely thanks to Bacchus: he has weaved a close bond with the locals, both through his winemaking and his own longevity.

That must be a trait deeply rooted in this region since ancient times: the people here have learnt to live cherishing the wizards amongst them.

Akira: I see, so their generosity and openness comes from their friendship and trust in Mister Bacchus.

(That explains how they managed to stay dedicated to their winemaking for so long... I wonder what kind of person he is.)

Almost on cue with my own thoughts, a number of voices rose from a nearby street.

Citizen: Man, ‘n here I was, gettin’ all worked up about how bad our production would turn out with the Great Calamity hitting us. Looks like I got worried for nothin’.

Other Citizen: Yeah, our harvest is exceptional, and don’t get me started on the wine! It’s the best vintage we will ever produce! A fantastic year indeed!

The wizards looked at each other.

Faust: The best they will ever produce…?

Bradley: …

Murr: If it was really their ultimate production, Bacchus would have sent it fresh out of the cellar, and Shylock would have been first on the list! You’d be hearing him talk about it day and night by now!

Hmm, the plot thickens!

Shylock: That it has, and our only way to solve this mystery is by hearing from him firsthand. Let us head to his cellar right away.

⁂

[Vineyard]

On our way, the lush greenery of Bacchus’ luxuriant vineyard caught my eye. The scenery was mesmerising, as if taken out of a painting.

An odd feeling pulled us out of our fascination soon enough.

Akira: …? Hold on, why did they leave so many grapes behind?

Arthur: That’s strange. Evidently, there were plenty of harvested grapes and wine already bottled in town, but why would they…

Shylock & Oz: …

Akira: (I remember them mentioning a rich harvest too, and yet...)

We headed into the cellar, filled with more questions than answers.

[Bacchus’ Cellar]

Without a window to offer natural light, the cellar was dimly lit by only the few lights on.

The room, more akin to a basement, was home to rows upon rows of neatly-stacked barrels.

???: Hiccup… Ugh, those shithead bastards...

A man was sitting amongst corpses of bottles in one of the aisles. Uncorking them one after the other, he seemed to desperately try to hang onto the last drops from every bottle he finished.

Shylock: Long time no see, Bacchus. Pardon us for entering without being invited.

The heels of Shylock’s shoes clicked closer to the man, who almost gasped upon looking up.

Bacchus: Shylock!? How—Why are you here...! Man, even Murr...

Murr: The one and only! We all came!

The man could only be taken aback at the sight of the two wizards towering over him. His eyes, a deep shade of purple like that of grapes, had flown wide open—and so had mine.

Akira: (Huh…?)

He looked far younger than what I had imagined—barely older than Arthur, If I had to guess.

His chestnut hair was tied in a simple low ponytail. With the folded-up hems of his oversized trousers, only hanging by suspenders, he looked just like any other country boy.

Arthur: Is this man Bacchus?

Rutile: He’s surprisingly young, isn’t he?

Murr: Think so? I’d say being around for a good thousands of years is pretty old, though.

Akira: A thousand year…!?

(Ah… The gap between a wizard’s appearance and their actual age will never fail to catch me off guard, no matter how many times I’m reminded of it…)

Shylock: I came all the way here as I had yet to receive any of your wine, Bacchus, and my patience has its limits.

If this is one of your tactics, then victory is all yours—this is an area in which you have much improved, after all.

Bacchus: …

Mister Bacchus didn’t follow up with the joking tone Shylock had shot at him: instead, he hung his head low, his voice barely reaching our ears:

Bacchus: You won’t receive any more wine from me—neither this year, nor the year after, nor for the centuries to come.

I have stopped producing wine, forever.

Everyone: !?

Shylock: You… stopped?

Shylock slowly blinked at this unforeseen turn of events.

Shylock: May I know the reason behind this decision? You loved wine more than anything and anyone. Then why...

Bacchus: …You’re right, I loved it, ‘n that’s precisely why I put an end to this.

With an acerbic huff, his mouth turned up in a superficial smile and, with eyes as cold as solid ice, Mister Bacchus began to tell his story:

Bacchus: The main ingredients of my wine are the grapes I grow with my own two hands and the sweat on my brow. Without them, “Bacchus Wine” simply cannot exist.

The night the Great Calamity drew near, I defended the vineyards with my magic, setting up protective barriers to fence off attacks ‘n putting my life on the line to protect my crops.

But whatever I did, the moon still came closer than it ever had before, and… before I realized what had happened, I was out cold. And when I woke up...

I knew it was far too early for the harvesting season, and yet I was met with this bounty of grapes, the finest and largest I’d ever seen.

Akira: What…?

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