AT THE SAME TIME
VESTA
The marketplace of Orario was as noisy as ever, half trading post, half carnival, and entirely too loud for my taste. I pulled my hood up a little lower, clutching my satchel close.
"Alright." I muttered to myself, weaving through the crowd. "Flour, salt, oil, onions, and maybe something that doesn't scream when you cook it."
Naturally, the universe refused to let me have peace.
"VESTA!" I recognized a similar voice and winced.
Turning slowly, I found Hestia waving like a maniac, jogging toward me with that blinding grin of hers, and behind her, the familiar chaos known as her familia. Bell, Welf, Mikoto, Haruhime, and Lili all trailing along like obedient ducklings.
"Oh joy. The parade has arrived."I sighed.
"Vesta! You didn't tell me you were going shopping!" Hestia said, beaming as she nearly collided with a fruit stand. "We could've helped!"
"Help." I said flatly. "Is rarely what I associate with you."
Bell rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Uh… sorry, Lady Vesta. Hestia insisted we tag along."Bell said.
"Of course she did." I muttered, scanning the stall. The merchant behind it looked nervous, as if divine bickering might raise his taxes. "I'm buying ingredients for the tavern. Dungeon stew doesn't make itself."
"Oooh!" Hestia leaned over the counter, eyes wide.
I selected a bundle of fresh herbs, a small sack of rice, and a few fat onions.
"These will do."I said.
Hestia gasped at the bag of goblin meat poking from my satchel.
"Wait… is that-?"She asked."
"Yes." I said before she could finish. "Dungeon meat. Perfectly edible, if you cook it properly."
Haruhime tilted her head politely.
"I've read that goblin meat is… very tough?"Hatsume asked.
"Only if you don't season it." I said, sniffing the herbs. "Add glowing mushrooms and a touch of divine heat, and it's stew worthy."
Mikoto blinked.
"Divine… heat?"She asked.
"I'm a goddess. Everything I cook is technically divine." I said. "Doesn't mean it's fancy."
Bell laughed awkwardly.
"You make it sound so casual."Bell said.
"It's stew, Bell. Not enlightenment."I said annoyed.
As I bartered with the merchant, Hestia was already sampling free fruit from another stall.
"Oh, Vesta, you have to try this apple! It's so sweet!"Hestia said.
"I'll pass." I said, counting out coins. "Last time I ate anything you touched, it caught fire."
"That was one time!"Hestia frowned.
"And yet, unforgettable."I said.
By the time I had bought everything, spices, vegetables, even a small bottle of oil for frying my patience was running thin. The familia was still buzzing around, debating what 'goblin stew' would taste like.
"Earthy, maybe?" Bell offered.
"Terrifying." Lili countered.
"Surprisingly meaty." Welf added helpfully.
I rolled my eyes.
"You're all invited to taste test, of course. If it kills you, I'll adjust the recipe."I said.
They laughed nervously. Hestia clung to my arm.
"You're so serious all the time, Vesta! You should smile more"Hestia said.
"I'll smile when the day ends without you setting something ablaze."I said.
"That's… fair." She admitted sheepishly.
By the time I reached the last stall, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange. I bought a bundle of glowing mushrooms, freshly harvested from the Dungeon, still faintly pulsing with mana. Perfect for stew.
"Alright." I muttered, tucking the last purchase into my bag. "That's everything."
Bell looked up from where he was helping Hestia carry her 'totally necessary' snacks.
"Heading back to your tavern already?"Bell asked.
"Yes." I said, adjusting my satchel. "Before this circus follows me home."
"Aww, come on!" Hestia pouted. "We could help you cook!"
"No."I said.
"Just a little-"She began.
"No."I said.
She huffed, crossing her arms.
"You're no fun."Hestia sighed.
"Correct." I said, turning down the street. "And that's why my tavern still has walls."
Behind me, I could still hear her whining as her familia tried to calm her down. I allowed myself one small, victorious smirk as the noise faded into the distance. By the time I reached the tavern, the lamps were lit, and the air smelled faintly of roasted herbs. I unlocked the door, set the ingredients down, and stretched my arms with a sigh.
"Finally… quiet."I sighed.
I smiled faintly, pulling out the goblin meat, mushrooms, and herbs. My little cauldron bubbled to life. The scent of divine stew filled the air, warm and rich. Soon, adventurers would wander in, hungry, tired, ready for food that healed more than their wounds. And maybe, for once, I'd get through a night without divine interference. Maybe.
Morning sunlight crept through the tavern's cracked windows like a nosy neighbor that didn't know when to quit. I stretched, yawned, and blinked at the faint gleam of dust motes dancing above the counter. The hearth had gone cold overnight, but the smell of stew still clung to the air, earthy, spiced, and faintly divine.
"Alright." I muttered, rolling up my sleeves. "New day, new mouths to feed, same roof still threatening to cave in."
With a flick of my wrist, I reignited the fire, not with a match, but with a touch of divine heat. The pot bubbled obediently. I started chopping onions, mushrooms, and herbs, adding them in with the sort of practiced rhythm only immortality could teach. The goblin meat sizzled as I browned it, and I could already hear the city outside waking, blacksmith hammers ringing, merchants shouting prices, adventurers bragging about things they barely survived. By the time the tavern's door creaked open, the air inside smelled rich enough to make even the gods hungry.
"Morning, Miss Vesta!" Called a dwarf from the usual table, scar on his chin, smell of iron in his beard. "You got that stew again?"
"It's either stew or air, pick one." I said, ladling out a thick portion.
He grinned.
"Air doesn't taste this good!" Dwarf said.
The next to arrive was a pair of elven sisters from the Guild's messenger ranks. They always sat by the window and argued about who worked harder. I handed them each a bowl before they even ordered.
"Two stamina specials, extra bread." I said.
One of them blinked.
"How'd you-"He said.
"You order the same thing every morning. Also, you talk very loudly."I said.
They flushed but smiled anyway.
"You're scary, you know that?"One of them said.
"I prefer 'efficient'. " I said.
As more customers trickled in, the tavern filled with that low, pleasant hum, spoons clinking, quiet chatter, boots scuffing the floor. The kind of sound that made this mortal world tolerable. I wiped my hands and leaned against the counter, watching them eat. One adventurer sighed happily.
"I swear, your stew makes me feel like I leveled up!" He said.
"You didn't." I said. "You're just hydrated for once."
Laughter followed. I smirked despite myself.
Between serving bowls and taking coins, I caught myself humming. The rhythm of the tavern was simple, predictable. People came in tired, aching, sometimes half dead, and left full, smiling, alive. No worship, no prayers. Just satisfaction. That was enough. By noon, the crowd had thinned. I took a breath and looked around at the empty tables, the sunlight sliding across the wood, the faint aroma of herbs still hanging in the air.
"Peace." I said softly, letting the word linger like a rare spice.
Then, of course, a crash echoed outside. Someone had probably dropped an entire crate of magic potatoes again. I sighed.
"Almost peace." I said.
I turned back to the pot, giving it one last stir before setting it to simmer for the afternoon. The divine heat flickered gently, warm, steady, alive. The kind of warmth mortals would never know came from a forgotten goddess who just wanted a quiet life.