Abel's late parents would always tell him about the Tale of Flower City.
It was an interesting tale, which went like this.
One time, in a cold and dreary winter, a boy lay sick. This boy was a kind-hearted child who took care of many animals. But there was one, specific animal which held gratitude deep within its heart.
This creature was nothing more than a common sparrow. Despite this, it had a pure, self-sacrificing heart.
Thus, when it noticed the boy laying in his bed, sick and feverish, the sparrow knew it had to help somehow. The sparrow knew that the cold was deadly - too deadly to sleep in without a fire.
So, the sparrow flew to the hearth of the house. Noticing that there was naught but a few small embers left, it began to flap its wings, stoking the fire.
After hours of careful work, the fire grew rapidly - and unfortunately, the sparrow could not escape in time. However, that fire helped the boy to survive the night and heal from his sickness.
In the morning, the boy checked on the fire. All traces of the pure-hearted sparrow had burned up. The boy kept the fire running without break, and in the following days to come, the boy wondered why the sparrow never came back to visit.
Then, with a gust of wind, the fire went out. From the flames came the birth of a dazzling creature - the first ever Hearth-Sparrow. The boy was overjoyed, and learned that the Hearth-Sparrow had laid down its life for him. They embraced with happiness.
Together, the boy and the Hearth-Sparrow lived in warmth, for no fire could harm this pure sparrow ever again.
And then, Abel's parents would ask him.
But where had this pure-hearted sparrow gone, while the fire kept burning?
With a gleam within their eyes, they would continue, in an almost conspiratorial whisper.
That beautiful little sparrow went to Flower City. Flower City, they say, is a city run by the King of Ghosts. Because he had a loved one who was always altruistic and self-sacrificial, that Ghost King decided to give solace and safety to those who share these values.
Abel always remembered, at that point, his dad would ruffle his hair.
So always do the right thing - even if it means you have to sacrifice something from yourself. Or else... His father warned jokingly, You won't be able to come to Flower City and find us waiting for you!
...
Truth be told, the Tale of Flower City didn't have to use the Hearth-Sparrow specifically. In fact, his parents might use a different animal every single time. This ranged from Rat-Kings to Snake-Bushes and many other creatures.
It was as if Abel's parents knew the tales behind the name of every monster in the City. Despite the different monsters used, the Flower City was always included. They would always mention it through the death of the altruist.
Sad thing, that. The good guy in the stories always died.
Such a legend was one which he'd never heard of before. No other library held the tale, no other man had acknowledged it's existence.
So, Abel could only imagine that it was real. And if it was real, then his parents would definitely be waiting for him there.
Be kind. Be righteous, do what is right. Abel repeated in his heart. Even if it costs yourself, don't hesitate.
As Abel repeated the words like a mantra, he wrote down the legends and tales behind every monster he listened to.
There was the Hearth-Sparrow's story, of course. But he wrote down the stories of other monsters too.
For example, there was the story of the Rat-King.
A family of greedy rats started a war over food. When the smartest rat of them all noticed this war, it forced peace upon it's family by tying the tails of the rats together. They all had to learn to work in harmony and made peace.
Despite it's actions, the mass of rats devoured the smartest one, for even though they'd made peace with each other, they couldn't forgive it for forcing peace. Once the smartest rat died, each of the rats within the Rat-King stored a piece of it's consciousness within them, which linked their minds and turned them into one being.
When one rat within the Rat-King died, it dissipated into energy. That rat, now a part of the original rat, would then find itself within Flower City, waiting for the rest of the rats within the Rat-King to die, and reuniting the family once more.
This tale was... perhaps not as sweet as the one about the Hearth-Sparrow. Regardless, Abel recorded all of the stories he could remember, both in remembrance of his parents and also for other people.
Perhaps it was just Abel's imagination, but he felt like the legends were meaningful and helped shape the morals he lived by to this day.
It would be nice if other people could hear these tales as well. As Abel finished writing down the last few words of the Rat-King's variation on the Tale of Flower City, he paused.
Yes, I should ask my parents about the next tale.
Abel turned toward his brewing station.
First, he squeezed in multiple poisons, just enough that it wouldn't kill. There was nightshade, hemlock and a bit of arsenic.
Then, he added in vitalising ingredients. There was ginseng, tobacco and a heap of alcohol.
With a use of Brew, the mish-mash of ingredients combined like magic and took form to yield a dark purple liquid. He collected it.
You see, the way Abel's ability worked, Brew, was special. All he needed to do was believe that the potion would work. It could be based off of any logic, truth be told, and as stupid as it sounded there were still many limitations.
For example, Abel was too realistic to ever believe he could Brew a potion of resurrection. He was also too realistic to think that a poison could be made without any ingredients of that nature.
However, for this specific potion Abel was about to make, he could do it - despite how miraculous it's effects were. That was because Abel held great trust in his parents, and a fervent desire to meet them again.
If it wasn't obvious by now, the potion he made was one which let him view Flower City. Whether Abel was hallucinating, imagining the scenes or whether it was real, Abel didn't care.
After drinking the potion, he fell to a near-death state. Abel felt his soul leave his body and whisk away, now outside the gates of Flower City.
"Mom! Dad! I'm back to visit!" Abel cheerfully knocked on the gates twice, before opening them and entering the city.
Unlike what many people thought, Flower City, the city of ghosts, was not too different from a normal city. There were stalls lined up against the road, crowds of diverse beings conversing and even gambling dens.
Abel walked through the city with a practiced ease. At first, Abel had been afraid of death.
The pain, the loss of everything... He'd been terrified of dying.
But now, with the repeated visits to Flower City, Abel felt like death was no different from travelling. Perhaps, humans fear death more because they won't see their families and friends again?
When it came to Abel, however, death would merely be the switch between occasionally meeting his family to moving back in with his parents.
He found his parent's house, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
"Surprise!"
...
Abel awoke with his ever-present smile.
He stretched, feeling the lingering effects of his potion fade away. Picking himself up, he was about to continue writing down what he'd learned, in order to complete the Variations of the Tale of Flower City.
Yes, it was a long name.
This was what Abel spent most afternoons doing. He would Brew himself a, as he referred to it, Spirit Travelling Potion, and make his way towards the fabled Flower City.
No one else knew, and no one else would know. It was Abel's most best-kept secret, a special place within his heart where he went to, to relax, to feel better - and meet his family.
Just as Abel was ready to pick up his pen, he heard strange, muffled noises. They came from the direction of Noelle's office, and it sounded like an intense fight.
More noises ensued, and muffled voices and shouting also came after.
Abel's eyes grew alert, and he grabbed his syringe gun, filling it with pre-Brewed syringes.
What is happening in the Captain's office?
Then, an alarm rang.
A level 4 alarm.
Damn it! Abel thought furiously to himself. He ran out the door and grabbed his syringe gun, leaving behind his half-empty bottle of Spirit Travelling and a pile of unfinished stories.
I'll come back and finish the tales later.
...
As Abel left the room, a gust of wind blew his Spirit Travelling Potion, spilling the contents all over the pile of stories. A strange phenomenon began to occur.
The potion and the pages merged, melting, mixing and forming a gaseous cloud which filled the room very quickly. Within moments, the entire room was filled.
A small tendril of gas chased after Abel, who was still none the wiser.
Within the depths of the purple cloud, scenes of different parts of Flower City could be discerned.
There were scenes of ghosts lining up at stalls, eating strange foods and chatting together.
There were scenes of young children chasing animals through the streets, scenes of birds flying overhead, scenes of fish swimming in the streams.
And...
There was a scene of Abel's parents, smiling gently, waiting for their beloved son to visit once more.