Cottagecore

Matilda’s cottage was nestled at the base of one of the hills that surrounded the town. The path she led them down after they’d walked a short ways from the bus stop was bright and spacious, more of a driveway than a forest trail. When he mentioned this, she chuckled, although her eyes were still a little wild from their fight in the barrier. “It is technically a driveway. I don’t own a car though, and I get my mail delivered to a box in town as it’s usually just bills or spam so it's easier to handle it on my lunch-break than at home.”

The path curved a few times, and then they reached the boundary line to Matilda’s home. It was obvious where her land properly began and the public forest ended: low stone walls overgrown with moss and tiny rock-plants encircled a wide front garden full of raised planters and vegetable beds. Either side of the stepping stones leading to the front door was a small grassy lawn - although here too circular beds had been cut into the grass to allow more foodstuffs to grow. Indeed, it looked to John like even the trellises that arched overhead as they walked towards the entrance were covered with blossoming edible plants.

The brunette finally seemed to let herself relax once she’d passed the outer wall, her lips quirking into a smile as she brushed her fingertips across the leaves of one of the trellis plants, where the flowers were already turning into fruit. “Another month or two and this’ll be ready to harvest,” she murmured before stepping forward and turning her key in the lock.

The inside of the cottage reflected its owner just as much as the outside. Rustic, cheap and clearly repaired or upcycled furniture dotted the entryway; as the door clicked shut behind them, Matilda sagged against it, her forehead pressed against the varnished wood. “Safe?” she murmured, then straightened and turned to John. “If we’re truly safe, I need coffee before you start to explain. And you need to clean up - are you sure you’re alright?”

At his nod she frowned. Opting to show rather than tell, John popped the top button on his shirt and tugged it to the side, rubbing briefly to reveal clear skin under the dried blood where there should have been a gaping wound. Matilda’s eyes grew a little wild again, then she swallowed hard. “Coffee. Yes, definitely coffee. Umm, shoes go in the rack there,” she added, before kicking off her own muddy footwear and depositing them in the box she’d indicated.

It looked to John more like an upturned packing crate that someone had partitioned with a sheet of plywood, but he didn’t comment - this was her home after all - and instead slipped his own shoes off. For a moment, he debated just storing them in his Inventory, then thought better of it. Matilda was having a hard enough time in the aftermath of everything that had happened already. If he started making things appear and disappear in her house, she might break down all together. Thus, into the rack they went.

Walking through the door Matilda had departed by a moment later, he found her standing staring at a coffee maker that was woefully out of place in the otherwise rustic kitchen. While the entire room was clearly owned by a cook - neat counter-tops, high-grade copper and iron cookware, pots of spices and so on - it was also definitely in keeping with the rest of the cottage. Warm light through the windows over the sink spilled onto dark oak counter-tops, the edges left natural with the bark still on the thick slabs. Bunches of herbs hung from the ceiling, and some of the stools around the island in the middle of the room appeared to have been hand-crafted.

The coffee maker on the other hand looked like it could have been bought at a steampunk convention. Hissing steam, copper tubing in spirals, and more levers than John had seen during the introduction to driver’s ed lessons he had attended prior to starting at Ashcroft. The brunette stood in front of it, muttering to herself as she worked the various dials, before straightening and turning around, a steaming mug in each hand.

“Okay, John, coffee.” She set one of the mugs down on the counter and lifted the lid on a rather chipped ceramic bowl, heaping sugar into her mug. “If you want milk, it’s in the fridge, you can have the sugar when I’m done… then we talk, okay?”

John watched, blinking slightly as she added way more sugar than he felt was natural for a coffee before offering him the spoon. Opting to not follow her example, he took a measured two spoonfuls, tested the dark liquid briefly then added a third to be safe before settling onto one of the stools and sighing. “We do need to talk, yeah. Where do I even begin…”

For a moment, John stared at the ceiling, then he glanced back down at Matilda. He could try and get her to forget about everything that had happened, although that would potentially end up with him having to avoid her to not drag her into any more Abyss related situations. The look on her face suggested that any attempt to do that wouldn’t work. Taking a deep breath, he began, “So, I don’t know everything, but for me, it started about a week ago when I woke up with floating text boxes in front of my eyes…”

Matilda listened as John recapped everything that had happened over the previous week - the fights, the quests, the discussions with multiple gods… Once he started, he found he couldn’t stop, words spilling out as he finally had someone he could talk to about everything. When he reached the incident with Rebecca, he paused briefly to apologize for not telling the entire truth at first; his explanation of the impact of his blessing had the older woman raise an eyebrow.

Eventually, he talked through everything he knew about what had happened to them earlier that day and fell silent. “That’s… wow, John,” Matilda said, picking up her forgotten coffee and draining half the mug before setting it back down. “Alright. I understand why you didn’t tell me the truth about what happened yesterday at first, although I’m a little sceptical about this whole blessing making people horny business. Not saying I want you to prove it, but you barely know the woman and the way you described running into her, are you sure she’s not just stalking you? Either for her own benefit or for this ‘Order’?”

As his companion raised her mug once more, John scratched the back of his head and tried to find an answer. “I’m not entirely sure. It doesn’t feel like she’s stalking me - I don’t quite know why, but it doesn’t. And her Observe has never said anything that gives me the impression she’s anything but trying to be helpful.” Pausing, he looked Matilda directly in the eyes. “Are you okay? You’re taking wild tales a lot better than I thought you would.”

Setting her empty mug down, Matilda frowned. “I should be freaking out, shouldn’t I? By rights, I should be convinced that the guy I like is completely insane and seeing things that aren’t there. But… I’ve gone into a weird alternative dimension and been attacked by fox monsters today. You seeing video game pop-ups is hardly the strangest thing I’ve had to deal with since I woke up this morning.”

With his own coffee drained, John paused to pick up Matilda’s mug and put them both in the sink. Turning back to her, he made a decision, then opened his Inventory. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I’m afraid things might be about to get a bit weirder. You know I said I’d gotten a Quest to save you? Well, it had an optional objective to either tell you about the Abyss or try and hide it from you… with the reward being a gift for you.”

Matilda blinked. “A gift for me? Do you usually get rewards for other people from your Quests?”

John shrugged and shook his head. “Not usually. I mean, I get rewards that might be useful for other people, but none that are directly rewards for them, unless you count the fertility toggle?” As soon as he said it, he blushed, realizing he’d left that part out of his rundown of Quests earlier - along with the rest of the losing his virginity quest-line.