A FEW DAYS LATER
VESTA
By the end of the week, the bouquet wasn't alone anymore. Every morning, I would unlock the tavern and find something new waiting by the door, a few wildflowers tied together with string, a candle burned halfway down, a folded scrap of paper with a short prayer scrawled in shaky handwriting. At first, I thought it was a prank. Or maybe a thank-you from customers. But by the fifth day, when a small wooden charm shaped like a hearth flame appeared next to the door handle, I knew. They weren't jokes. They were offerings.
The first one that morning was from a trio of young adventurers, the same ones who had been regulars since opening day. They came in laughing, carrying their gear like trophies from a long night's crawl through the Dungeon.
"Morning, boss!" The leader called, a broad grin on his face. "Got anything warm? Feels like my bones froze down there."
"Same as yesterday?" I asked, ladling stew into bowls.
"Stew, rice, and one of those fried things with the sauce what do you call it again?" The smallest one asked.
"Chicken cutlet." I said with a small smile. "And stop calling it 'fried thing,' or I'll charge extra."
They laughed, taking their usual corner table. While I cooked, the door opened again, an elderly woman this time, clutching a bundle of flowers so tight her hands trembled. She looked around the tavern like she wasn't sure she belonged.
"Can I… help you, ma'am?" I asked gently.
Her eyes softened when they met mine.
"No, dear. I just came to leave these." She moved to the counter, placing the bundle carefully next to the vase of lilies. "My grandson said he ate your stew after a rough dungeon run. Said it felt like the goddess herself blessed him. I thought… maybe… if I left these, I could say thank you."
My throat tightened.
"You don't have to-"I tried tp explain it.
"I want to." She interrupted softly, her eyes kind. "Vesta's warmth shouldn't go unthanked. Even if the gods forgot us mortals, we never forgot her."
Before I could say anything else, she smiled, bowed slightly, and left, her footsteps fading down the cobblestone street. When I turned, one of the adventurers called out, grinning between bites.
"She's right, you know! You're a miracle worker, Lady Vesta!"He said excited.
I groaned.
"It's just food. And stop with the titles."I sighed.
He laughed.
"Sure thing, Lady Tavern Goddess!"He said.
That one stuck faster than I liked.
By noon, two more groups arrived, one leaving a small carved spoon with my initials burned into the handle, the other a pouch of coins 'for temple repairs', though I didn't have a temple anymore. Each time I tried to protest, they'd wave me off with smiles and say things like 'you fed us when we were empty', or 'your food gave us strength when we had none'.
And that was all it took for rumors to spread. By sunset, the tavern door barely had time to close before the next wave arrived. Adventurers, locals, even a few curious merchants, all eager to eat, all whispering the same title under their breath: 'the Tavern Goddess of Orario'.
It should have annoyed me. But as I wiped down the counter and saw the growing collection of flowers, charms, and notes by the window, I felt something else instead, a quiet, warm ache in my chest. A tiny piece of what I'd once lost flickering back to life.
That evening, one of the regulars, a half elf named Mira lingered after everyone left. She looked at the window, at the offerings, then back at me.
"You know… people only do this when they believe."Mira said.
I shrugged, pretending to busy myself with the dishes. "Belief's a dangerous thing."I said.
Mira smiled faintly.
"Not if it's well placed."Mira said.
Then she slipped out, leaving a single primrose on the counter, the same kind I used to bless temples with long ago. I stared at it for a long moment.
"You mortals never do let go, do you?"I muttered.
And yet… a small smile found its way onto my face. Maybe it wasn't so bad being remembered. The tavern was alive tonight. Laughter rolled through the air, mugs clinked, chairs scraped, and the smell of roasted meat and herbs filled every corner. I'd been working nonstop since noon, frying, simmering, seasoning, but for the first time in centuries, I didn't felt tired.
"Three chicken plates, two stews, and no, wait, make that four!" One of the regulars shouted from the back.
"Four?" I laughed, ladling another portion into a bowl. "What are you doing, feeding a minotaur?"
"Feels like it!" He called back, and the whole tavern broke into laughter.
Steam rose from every dish, curling through the candlelight like tiny ghosts of warmth. As I set down a fresh plate of stew before a weary group of rookies, I noticed something faint, almost imperceptible at first. The broth shimmered. Not in the way oil or heat plays tricks on the eye. This was… light. A soft, golden hue pulsed within the bowl, like embers beneath the surface. The adventurers leaned forward, eyes wide.
"Uh… is it supposed to do that?" One of them asked, poking at the stew.
I blinked, momentarily frozen. The divinity I had buried for centuries, the warmth I thought I had tamed was singing again.
"It's… fine." I said, forcing a smile. "Eat while it's hot."
They hesitated for only a heartbeat before digging in. And as they did, the glow pulsed brighter for a moment, not wild, but gentle, like a heartbeat. Their faces changed instantly. The tension in their shoulders melted away, bruises faded, exhaustion vanished.
"By the gods…" Whispered one of them. "This… this feels-"
"-like life." Finished another one, trembling slightly as he set down his spoon.
I took a step back, exhaling slowly. The tavern was quiet now, everyone staring, whispering around me.
"Did you see that?, It's magic, No, that's divine-"One of them whispered.
And then the bell above the door chimed. A small, clear sound that cut through the silence. I looked up.
There, standing in the doorway, was a familiar figure, short, with a blue ribbon wrapping around her black hair, eyes bright as stars and twice as mischievous. My heart stopped.
"…Hestia."I whispered.
She blinked, her mouth hanging open for a second before breaking into a radiant grin.
"V-Vesta?! Is that really you?!"She said excitedly.
Before I could say anything, she was across the room in an instant, throwing her arms around me.
"It is you! I thought you went back to the heavens and never returned!"Hestia said happily.
I stiffened, spoon still in hand, oil sizzling behind me. "You're choking me-"I tried to break the hug.
"Oh hush, you're still warm!" She giggled, squeezing tighter before stepping back, her eyes darted around the tavern, taking in the crowded tables, the glowing bowls, and the pile of flowers and charms by the window. "You've been busy."
"I retired." I muttered. "Quiet life, no temples, no worshippers."
Hestia raised an eyebrow.
"Uh-huh. And what do you call that?" She pointed at the stew still faintly glowing.
"An accident."I said nervously.
She laughed, that same bright, bubbling sound that could melt the worst days into something golden.
"You always said food was the purest kind of faith. Guess your followers remembered that better than you did!"Hestia said happily.
Around us, the adventurers stared, wide eyed, whispering to one another.
"That's Hestia… the goddess of home… And she knows her?"One of them asked.
"Don't look at me like that." I said dryly to the room. "I'm just a cook."
I knew that since that moment, my life was going to change, and I could not tell if it was going to be better or worse.