Ing looked upon the man when he entered. He appeared to be around Erste’s same age. A thick white beard covered most of his round face and he looked as if he were growing tired in his years.
The place was filled with books and other clutter, and a strange smell lingered.
“I have much knowledge of this world,” said Brinlee. “Not only of Eclestia, but Condeth Rahal and the Dark Realm across the vast waters to the west of our little land. I’m over half a century old. Please, have a seat.”
“So, you are on a journey to see the Lady of the Lake? Of course you are. You stopped in the Forest of the Mother to see the one who blessed you and now you come to the next stage of your journey.”
“How did you know?” asked Ing.
“Many people have come here on their journey to the Lake of Promises,” replied Brinlee. “People looking for gold, for wealth, for eternal life, for the answers to the mysteries of life, for love, for power...Although I know that’s not why you’re here. We have been expecting you ever since Erste left here to find you and your mother. My only grievance is that you did not get here sooner. Bartock wrote Erste a letter and instructed him on what to do with you. You have come here later than we expected, but we must be grateful that you have arrived.”
“But I’ve been told that no one’s been here for a long time,” said Ing, referring to the Lake.
“That is true,” replied Brinlee. “But many, many years ago, this village was open to all. That was before the Dark Lord started spreading his dark influence over our fair land. Back when I was in my youth. It was when the Lady of the Lake and Bolsee and Erdwick had their names and histories plastered throughout countless books. I suppose it is hard to come across such books anymore.” Brinlee looked deep in thought. “I must warn you, the Lake of Promises is the deadliest of all places you may have encountered on your journey thus far, and will encounter. Not just any man gets to see the witch who dwells there. But you’re not any man, are you, Ing?”
“Ummm, I suppose not,” replied Ing. He couldn’t help but wonder how much Brinlee really knew of the place and what made it so dangerous. “On another note your name sounds familiar. Why is that?”
“I see your mind is made up,” said Brinlee with a sigh of relief. “That is very good. Just like another man I once had the pleasure of knowing. Despite my concerns, you and I both know that it is what you must do, if we are to restore peace to this threatened land. Nonetheless, I urge that you not be too hasty in your approach. I advise that you stay here for now—get some rest, re-fuel your mind and body, replenish yourself for the great task ahead of you.”
“Anyway,” continued the elder, “you may have read a certain book of mine titled, The Forest Mother. Isn’t it true that it’s part of your collection at home? I believe I gave the book to your mother Selenia Roan many years past now.”
That’s where Ing had seen that name before. He had read the book shortly before leaving Ganwin in search of his uncle.
“Yes,” said Ing, “it is. And as for what you said about training, I understand. I will make sure to heed your warnings.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“Thank you for speaking to me, elder,” said Ing.
“I thank you for speaking with me, Ing,” said Brinlee Cadence. “It has been a pleasure. Erste has done well thus far in guiding you on your way.”
Ing got up to leave, but Brinlee grabbed his arm. “I must warn you, the Lake of Promises lies in the heart of Slithzalien’s realm. You must be very careful about who you trust.”
“I’ll be careful,” said Ing reassuringly. With that, he was gone.
Ing made his way back to the hallway and headed off to the left. Mildren had told him he could eat over there and he was starving. How long has it been since I last ate? he wondered.
When he entered the chamber, to his left was a sign that read, ‘HARBIN’S PUB’ and to his right was another that read ‘EATERIES.’ He ventured to the right and saw six different curtains, each with a sign above. There was ‘HEGEL’S MEATS,’ ‘BORSHIP’S SEAFOOD,’ ‘FINE DINING,’ ‘UNDERWATER GOODNESS,’ ‘FAMOUS NOODLES’, and ‘HOBLEE’S.’
Ing decided he would try FAMOUS NOODLES. Walking over to the counter, he was greeted by the owner. Noodles are always good and I'm not sure of what to expect if I go into one of the other eateries. I think this is my best choice.
“Hello there, sir. I haven’t seen you around here before,” said the owner, not in a voice of disapproval, but in a voice of interest and welcoming. He was a young man, younger than Brinlee or even Bartock, but certainly older than Ing or Mildren. He had a nice look about him and a smile in his green eyes. His hair was cut short like Mildren's although it was more black than brown and he was clean shaven.
“I’m just visiting,” said Ing politely. “We have not met before. My name is Ing Roan and perhaps you have heard of me as Bartock has.”
“I see,” said the owner. “My name is Bin Goodman. I must tell you, you’ve come to the right place.” The man laughed. “Or perhaps it is just the right place in my mind. Six restaurants to choose from and you come into mine. Interesting, isn’t it? The endless choices that come one’s way? Such choices could drive some people crazy.” Bin paused for a moment
