Potion in the Night

Thunder claps as an ominous rumble quakes the earth, following the blinding flash that turned the night to day. 

“It’s never a beautiful day,” Ashen said. “When the quest is coming to an end, hopefully coming to an end, it is never a clear summer day. The sun is never shining down from the heavens as the hero completes their journey. It has to be the dead of night. When the mischievous and the devious roam the lands, while the lord weeps tears of fury as the deluge floods the land. It can never be a bright, sunny day. Never… Never….”

Ashen pushed through light and thunder. The quest wasn’t complete, but it needed to be. It needed to be brought to heel. 

“Just a bit further, my steed… A bit….”

A steed with iron bones flew, outrunning the rain, keeping Ashen dry on his quest. 

“Keep going… Keep….”

Crash… Crack…. 

Even though his iron steed was strong and swift, hobbled it’s no better than the older mounts his fathers and forefathers used. Just as useless. Humbled by a hole in a road ridden too often, and too hard. 

“Come on… Come on…” Ashen said, willing his steed to move. That wasn’t to be. Hobbled and cracked, Ashen can’t fix her. “I’ll come back… I promise… I’ll come back.”

How would he get back to her? More importantly, how would Ashen get home? He’s three towns over. What were the chances his steed would be there in the morning, when the rain stopped and the sun rose? If he found the potion, how would he get it back to his maiden in need? Ashen knew his steed’s injury was probably fatal, but knew the omnipotent truth. The quest must continue. It must go on. 

So Ashen walked, slipped, ran and skidded. Slick stone making poor footing that his steed had plowed through with ease. Ashen felt exposed. Each flash and rumble attacked his core. The refreshing smell of water has been washed away by the rancid muck that clings to his boots. Every step harder, scarier as blinding flashes were little respite to the sheets of water soaking him to his core. No matter, the quest must continue. 

“Just a bit farther… Just a bit farther…”

Ashen makes it to town at least. However, the homes, the business are dark, as they should be at this time of night. No flame to guide a weary traveler. 

“One foot. Then another. One foot. Then another.”

That mantra propelled Ashen to his duty. It was the only way to outrun the wrath of a vengeful god and get the potion he needs. At least the rebels that normally rule the street are not out. The weather even keeping the worst intentions inside. Only a fool would be out here fighting. Only one with a quest. 

Dedication is rewarded. One step, an eye scalding flash, but this time the bleak dark doesn’t swallow him whole. A single light cries out through the storm. Someone is up. Hopefully, someone who can help.

“Finally… Finally…”

His feet churn faster as weariness washes away with the rain. The fuel of hope, the caffeine of victory, flames through Ashen’s veins, giving him the final push he needs to make it through the storm and into safety. 

“I need a tonic!” Ashen declared as he bursts through the doors. Wet feet sliding on the slick tile. 

The light wasn’t an inn or the law. It’s a store, a faithful store opening their doors to people like him late at night. Did they have the tonic? Possibly? Would Ashen pay whatever the cost? Of course he would. This was his best and, without his steed, last hope. 

“Tonic? Sir… Are you okay?” 

“Yes… Yes… I need a tonic to calm a burn. A balm that can cure a fire rushing through one’s throat.” He’s young. Of course he’s young. I just hope he understands my need. I hope he can help. 

This guy is soaked and nuts. The clerk thought to himself. My brother told me not to take the night shift. My mother said I could get another job, but I said I knew better. I needed the money. Is this how I die? A rain drenched crazy man demanding a potion? Is this how my life ends? My life was worth more than some coin. I should have listened. 

A quiet fell in the store as the clerk shook and Ashen shivered. Neither approached nor said a word as they waited. Ashen for help. The young clerk fearing for his life. 

“Are you… Asking… for an antacid?” The clerk asked. 

“Yes…. Yes… Exactly what I am asking for. But not a tablet, not that. I need some in liquid form.”

“Aisle three…”

“Awesome… Thanks…”

The dull pulse of pop music comes back into Ashen’s ears as he tries to shake off the cold shivers coming from the store’s ac. On the convenience store’s third aisle, about halfway down and in the middle of the shelf, shines the pink elixir of his quest. 

It’s here.

Ashen takes it. Grabs a hot coffee and a slice of warm pizza before walking up to the counter. 

“Is this all you need?” The clerk asked cautiously as he scans the items. 

“Ummm… Well… actually, my car broke down about two miles down the road. Do you think-”

“-I’ll call you a cab,” The clerk said, pulling his phone with relief. “It will be here soon.”

Ashen pays for the items and thanks the clerk. Taking his bounty, he waits by the door before two lights pierce the night to bring him home. 

“I have it!” Ashen said in the back of the cab. “I have it.”

Tension Ashen didn’t know he was carrying rolls off him like the rain on the cab. The storm isn’t terrifying anymore. The fear of an angry God is nothing compared to that of a pregnant spouse. The cost for this ride, the repairs to his own car don’t matter, now that he has the elixir and relief of a completed quest. 

“Honey, are you finally home?”

“Yes honey, and I’m on my way up.”

A short time later, after delivering the medicine to his desperate wife, Ashen is taking a warm shower and thinks to himself: 

“I really should have bought two.”