Special thanks to The Hearthlight Chronicles’ creator, Henrique de Aguiar, for allowing me to use his game like this. You can find him on Bluesky, X, or Itch, or better yet, grab The Hearthlight Chronicles — it’s only $3!
Missed Day 1?
Today’s music: Home by SwuM and Idealism. 🎧 Listen along on Soundcloud:
Today’s Prompt: “You take a walk through the village and meet a local. Who are they? And what do they share with you about life here?”
A First Glimpse
The night before, I’d decided to take a room above the country pub. It had the same vibe as the room I had as a kid, though the decor was different. Less Star Wars, I guess. It had a comfortable double bed with an overstuffed duvet and about three hundred pillows. The room was at the very top of the pub, with a peaked roof that gave it a cozy rather than cramped feeling. A single window overlooked the market square I’d arrived at yesterday. The shower was down the hall, making this more of a B&B than a hotel, but there weren’t any other guests. This left me feeling nonplussed—sure, nice to have the place to myself, but Hearthlight was already getting under my skin. Why weren’t there more people here?
I didn’t wake until after ten. I’d forgotten to charge my phone, so: no alarm, which was fine with me. The sun had touched my face through a crack in the curtains, prompting me to get on with it. The day had started without me, and for once, that felt right. No urgent emails. No phone calls. Just me and the hygge of that comforting blanket.
However, I smelled bacon. My stomach reported (again) for duty, and it didn’t need to prepare an itemised list this time. Let’s get to it.
After breakfast, I went for a short walk around the hamlet. I snagged a muffin and a coffee to take with me, and dual-wielding these weapons of satisfaction, I set out. I wanted to map Hearthlight in my head, and I always found it easier when I was boots on the ground. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with my Hearthlight invitation. It sat in my pocket, neatly folded. Was I supposed to give it to someone? Throw it away?
It’d keep.
A couple of minutes into my stroll, I rounded a corner and found someone’s chickens had got loose. They were pecking at the cobbled streets. Or, hell, maybe the chickens always roamed, and it was me who intruded on their morning routine.
One chicken was having a rough time with breakfast. It was a small brown hen, and she’d found something shiny. I edged closer and saw a bright coin. It wasn’t a currency I knew of, simply stamped with an H on one side and a 1 on the other. The hen didn’t want me to take it, which was fair, but commerce worked for a reason. I offered her a piece of muffin, and she took it at a run.
I pocketed the coin. Maybe at the pub they’d tell me who to give it to.
The hamlet was not mighty in size, and I walked the perimeter in less than twenty minutes, arriving back at the market square. There was a bench I’d eyed earlier as a potential place to finish my coffee, but it was occupied by a single resident: the kid from yesterday’s tug-o-war between gelato and the butcher’s.
The kid had the dog from yesterday, but no mother or father in sight. I mean, sure—it’s not as if there was a well for him to fall into and I could see how every shop had a clear view of the bench. Mum or Dad was probably shopping. No problem. I wandered to the bench, taking in the kid’s dangling legs and how they kicked back and forth in that slow, rhythmical way that said, I’m not just bored, I’m carrying something else, too.
I stopped by the bench. “Mind if I sit?”
The kid looked up. Boy, maybe twelve, complete with a serviceable homestyle edition haircut. He had a striped shirt and blue pants. The dog was a Hairy Maclary model, just two eyeballs and a lot of fur. “No.”
He went back to kicking air. I sat down on the opposite end of the bench. The dog took an interest in me, or more accurately, the remains of my muffin. “Does he bite?”
“No.”
“Does he like muffins?”
The boy looked back up at that, his face a mix of curiosity and astonishment. “He’s a dog. He likes everything.”
Tacit permission gained, so I offered a piece of muffin to the dog. In a sort of magic trick, it vanished as if it’d never existed, the only proof a vigorous wagging. “You on guard duty?”
“I guess.” The kid gave an epic sigh. Maybe he’d taken notes from Hollis? “Mum’s in Mark’s Meats.”
“That’s the butcher’s?”
Another glance, this time an appraisal: was I some kind of idiot? “Yes. She likes Mark.”
“Mark owns Mark’s Meats?”
“I think so. I don’t know.” The kid looked down again. “Dad died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember him.” The words came out of the kid in a rush. “I should, but I don’t? Like, he was alive and so was I, but now he’s gone, and I think I should remember something.”
I leaned back against the seat. “I’m not sure it works that way.”
“How does it work?”
“I’m not sure about that either.”
The kid sighed again. “Mum said I could buy an ice cream.”
“I had one yesterday. They’re pretty good.”
“What flavour?”
“Cookies and cream.”
“That’s my favourite, too.” The kid looked across at the gelato store. “I wish I could have one.”
I chewed that over. “But you said—“
“I lost my coin.”
“Ah.” I frowned. “Yesterday, the gelato store owner—”
“Trudy?”
“Sure, Trudy. She wouldn’t take my money.”
“That’s because you’re new.”
“Okay.” I fished in my pocket, feeling for the coin. I pulled it out and offered it to the kid. “Is this your coin?”
He looked at it, his eyes widening like the sun coming out. “How’d you find it?”
“I didn’t. A chicken did. I just traded it for a piece of muffin.”
The kid reached out a hand, but tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure. “Can I have it back?”
“It’s your coin.”
He took it, then looked at the gelato store, the dog, and back at me. “Can I, um.”
“Go ahead. Cookies and cream waits for no man.”
The kid went from sitting to lightspeed in about 2.3 seconds, the dog bouncing at the end of its leash, expertly avoiding the boy’s legs as if it had done this dance a hundred times. They vanished into the gelato store in a confusion of legs, tails, and happiness.
I sipped the last of my coffee. Today’s Grand Mystery™ of the Chicken, the Kid, and the Lost Coin was solved. Time to get back to doing nothing in particular.
Roll result: Critical Kindness. XP gained: 1 heartwarming assist, child-class, cookies and cream subclass.
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