Defi went to help as Aire carried the borrowed tableware to the boat she and Lergen used.

"Thank you for doing this," he said quietly when they were nearing the dock.

"My dear Defi, it's not a problem. It's been a while since I planned something like this, so it's been fun." She was smiling brightly, obviously tired but happy.

"Apart from the obvious, is there anyone I should visit personally?" That is, apart from her and Lergen, Falie and Hames, the tavern-keepers, the bakers, and Karles, were there others who were part of the planning that he needed to thank in person?

She shook her head. "I can handle the rest. Some of them didn't come to the feast. You might need to visit the Singers. The mayor as well."

He nodded. In all, that was ten bottles of the Lemorne.

He had two to keep in reserve.

"Are the pots of spices alright? I can buy more wine."

The good wine, but not one even nearly as expensive as the Lemorne. He couldn't afford another ten bottles of that. Five and a half crescents per bottle, eh.

"The spices are fine," she laughed. "Don't look so solemn about it, Defi. As long as it's given with good intention anything is fine."

He frowned. "Is a five crescent bottle of wine too much?"

Aire's eyes widened. "Chelua above, it's not like they birthed your child."

"I already gave one to Rocso."

She paused. "Does that mean you're giving one to us?"

He nodded.

She grinned cheekily. "It's definitely fine, reasonable even! Please gift your wine without restraint this time."

Defi laughed. "Understood. Next time, I'll restrain myself."

She nodded, happy that he could see what she wanted to convey.

The first time was fine, if he went overboard. He was new in town, after all, and maybe expensive bottles of wine were their custom in other places. But the second time, the third, too expensive gifts would already be beyond propriety.

Defi spoke to Aire about appropriate gift-giving as they stowed the tableware carefully on the boat and walked back to the house.

He listened attentively. Gift-giving in Ontrea was complicated and elaborate, and he was happy that the traditions in Ascharon were looser even if they were just as complicated.

For a simple blessing feast, the Chossur Lemorne was something the people who helped wholeheartedly would look askance on, as if Defi was forcing debt on them.

But it was Defi's first ceremony in the Lowpool.

Not to mention..

"I heard my mother say that Kaska gave gifts to the whole town and that made them ignore him for a month before he realized and clarified that he wasn't bribing them for anything. There's a reason his house is so eccentric. Entire families sent their members to help him build it until they returned at least the price of the gifts he gave out. And then some years ago, Sarel," Aire giggled. "obviously she cooked. She cooked so grandly that her first feast, everyone couldn't eat the food!"

Falie and Lergen laughed as they overheard the discussion and Aire told them Defi's predicament.

"That idiot," Falie reminisced, fondly. "All the dishes she brought out were so obviously vital cooking, the entire place was silenced."

"Then she said," Aire could almost not speak for mirth. "to forgive her for the poor fare, as she was in dire straits at the moment!"

The adults all broke out in laughter.

It was just like Sarel, to shock people and then incite them to outrage in the same breath.

"Everyone thought she was showing off," Falie shook her head. "Unlike Kaska, she didn't care to correct that impression, until the mayor roped her into working with the physickers."

Defi considered. "Is that the reason for the massive orchard?"

"Of course," Falie laughed. "She mentioned wanting to grow some trees, and everyone wanted to lighten their fortune."

"Compared to them," Lergen said comfortingly, "a bottle of too expensive wine is nothing."

*

After the last of his friends were farewelled down the river, Defi walked through the homestead, Turq on its familiar place on his head.

They started at the warehouse, closely scrutinizing the graceful almost honeycomb configuration of the slime pens.

A smile touched Defi's lips.

The myriad looks on the faces of the people who had seen them was both amusing and gratifying.

Defi touched the wood of one of the pens, opened the mesh door. It was a simple enclosure, the only noteworthy feature being the water from the river running and falling into bowl-shaped structures on the innermost side of the enclosure, then draining silently away.

"Turq, how do you like the new slime house? We can stop using the dining area in the house as a slime room, now. More space, more storage."

He and Turq slowly surveyed the warehouse, the storage bins, the moving feeding bins, the separate storage area where the tables and canopies of the recent feast were kept.

"This is for production slimes though. I don't suppose you can split again? I don't really want to get a summoning headache. Or, if you could tell me, how close are the others to splitting? Knowing would be useful too. You're still living in the house though. Sorry if you wanted to try one of the pens."

Defi paused.

"I think we can build an indoor slime habitat in the house, just for you. What do you think, Turq?"

Finally, he exited the warehouse and took a stroll around the homestead.

The last several days, he had few chances to be by himself.

The sudden break of his solitary living into days where he was nearly never alone had made him realize that he was not as social a person as he thought, but also not as solitary as he thought.

Defi, who had once spent an entire week contentedly throwing soirees for government officials in order to facilitate advancements on various projects, now craved aloneness every now and then.

The change had likely already started before he crossed the Gate.

He had met betrayals on both sides of the Gate and the warmth he could easily show other people before was now harder to find.

He had lost and gained, had found something of himself.

He paused at the sight of the circular holes where he had been intending to plant zaziphos. There were more holes bored than when he left.

The recent discussion on reciprocal gifts was still at the forefront of his mind.

It seemed his new students did not think digging holes and picking fruit to be equal to learning combat. He frowned at the neat array of holes for a long moment.

The ones who wanted to go into the military, most likely were the culprits.

Defi knew that combat skills, especially sword skills, were prized in military recruits.

If seen from a particular perspective, it did seem that Defi was giving too much for too little in return.

He should have a discussion with them about the matter when next they came together for class. He was teaching them something that would help with their chosen profession. As for what he asked them to do in return, did they think that digging these holes was a whim?

This was helping with Defi's chosen future as well.

The edges of his lips lifted slightly, his countenance warming. He had to find some way to thank them for their regard, however.

It was good that they were not taking what he was teaching for granted.

The people he met in this world, they were of varying temperament. Good and bad.

People are people, Garun said.

They choose the actions that bring them the future.

Defi looked at the horizon, blue mountains climbing the sky far away.

It had been his initial plan, to get as far away from the Gate as possible, then simply live as he wished.

He looked around at the patch of land that was his now, his homestead, illuminated gently by the afternoon light.

It had not been his plan.

The Lowpool was too close to the Gate, practically sitting under it on a map. To be a farmer again, and to produce condiments, that had not been a plan he seriously wished to accomplish in this new world.

The blackspice seedlings he had included in the luggage were only because he did not wish to sacrifice the taste of Ontrean spice, nor pay premium for it when he could have servants grow it for him in his personal gardens.

Defi laughed, sudden, its reasoning unknown.

He laughed until he couldn't anymore, the sounds ringing in the air of the cooling afternoon until they softened and stopped.

The smile on his face did not dim as he viewed the horizon again.

In the distant future, perhaps that childlike dream would be realized, and he would see those mountains as close to him as the tree he leaned against.

Now however, this peculiar farm in this odd town by a mountain lake was something he wanted to see prosper.

He walked back to the house, step light and eyes bright.

He should really start growing something as soon as possible, before winter.

Before he had to deal with the explosion in the number of slimes the farm had.

What would he feed them all?