Chapter 53: Observed

  “These are amazing!”

  Willam’s short, yet glorious review of Theo’s violetberries ignited Theo’s deepest layer of pride yet. He’d contributed something of his own, not just helping his fellow villagers with their own things. These berries were his offering to Sigil Lake’s future prosperity—and more would come. His eagerness had now swollen as he couldn’t wait for the rest of his plants to catch up and provide their products.

  As if to enhance this feeling of accomplishment, Willam next added: “Now I’m looking forward to tasting the rest.”

  Willam and Julie then took the rest of the few berries Theo had brought with him while he returned to his garden. Wen separated from him to take a swim in the lake, still the closest thing they had to a proper bath. Grace was by the lake drying herself up already. So that’s where she had gone this morning.

  The almost-ripe violetberries at the top of the bushes had become even less red now, their violet now just tinged with it, like a purple sunset. In just a few hours, Theo guessed, they’d be ready as well. Willam allowed him to borrow the buckets to collect the berries in. Theo hoped the traders would arrive soon—the one with all the brewer’s equipment in specific—so he could have a place to store them. The sooner Wen could start brewing, the better, but even if she wouldn’t be ready just yet, at least Theo would have some temporary storage.

  A deep clearing of one’s throat sounded just as Theo admired his bushes. The sound was deep as a rockslide, and unfamiliar to boot. Theo turned to where the sound came from but found no one. He turned the other way and saw a tall man standing there scratching his lacklustre beard, his long, clean fingers running through the very few, somewhat long facial hairs. He was looking at Theo’s berries, humming to himself—the tune was unfamiliar, but he was still using a deep bass.

  “Hello?” Theo asked. The man ignored him, reaching out to touch the purple spheres instead.

  “Pretty.” He plucked a handful and tossed them into his mouth—literally—a feat Theo couldn’t fathom how he did with so little effort. They should’ve spread, right?

  Then, in an almost too humanising and disarming moment, the man’s face collapsed from the brutal tartness. His chin grew wrinkles and his brow furrowed, his eyes turning into nothing but layers upon layers of skin. Theo would’ve laughed if he’d known who this guy was and what he was doing here.

  “Delightful,” he said. “You must be Theo. Interesting place you have here,” he added, looking up towards the side of Arcana’s stone form.

  “Right on both counts. Who are you?”

  “Not important right now,” said the man, then shifted his gaze to Theo. He wore a grey leather coat, its back longer than its front, the former reaching further than his knees while the latter ended at his waist in a series of buttoned-up buttons. Halfway up his torso, the buttons were no longer holding the coat’s two sides together, revealing a dark, frilly shirt. His hair was black, like Bella’s, though perhaps not as well taken care of, its split ends visible even among the light curls.

  “I’d rather know what you’re doing here in our town.”

  “These violetberries are perfectly tart, their mouthfeel dry despite the mouthful of juices each berry contains. Of course, the wine your brewer will make from the will sell for a nice sum even in Ercheat. Though, if I might suggest, you might want to keep your product away from the capital streets until it is asked for—wineries who make a tidy sum selling their product in Ercheat exclusively wouldn’t look kindly on your interference in their market.”

  Theo eyed the man with suspicion, which the man wouldn’t notice considering him eyeing Theo right back, though with a focus on everything but the face. “Are you a trader by any chance?”

  “My skills lie elsewhere, though I’m what you call observant—if I may humbly say so.”

  “Thanks for the tip, then,” Theo said. The man’s eyes rose to meet his again.

  “You’re a visitor from another world, aren’t you?”

  A sense of dread crept up Theo’s spine, sending shivers up and down his body, inside and out. The man noticed, his eyes flicking to observe the way Theo’s body tensed, but it seemed he just wanted to air his own suspicion, not accuse Theo of anything.

  “Now, don’t you worry; secrets are safe with me.”

  “How’d you know?” Theo asked. Had he spoken with anyone else in town first?

  “Hold on now, and let me finish my deduction,” he said, scratching his thin beard again. “Arcana sent you here, quite recently, in fact. It must’ve been close by, and someone must’ve stumbled upon you, taken you to safety. Not so long ago, a town just a skip away had the awful misfortune to lose out in its first ranking; you were there. You made a few friends, and with Arcana’s help, you founded a new town, right here. You act normal because you think you’re normal, but you’re also searching for somewhere to belong—maybe it’s here; these berries are your first attempt at making something of yourself—but you’re not sure yet.”

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  The man hit the nail on the head, but how? Who had he spoken to that would reveal this to a stranger?

  “How do you—”

  “I have my ways, and let’s leave it at that. Besides, until you confirmed it, these were just theories. My theories are well-founded most of the time, of course. Name’s Sherblanc. Pleasure.” The man reached his hand forward, open and tilted sideways.

  Theo recognised the name: his tutor, or rather, the man assigned as the town investigator…however little they might need one. If anyone would notice that glaring hole in the council’s decision, it might be this guy. And then…

  “Sigil Lake’s new resident investigator, here to find what I can only surmise will be prospective fruit thieves.”

  Theo shook his hand, the man’s skin feeling cold to the touch. The gardener grimaced at the thinly veiled excuse for an investigator’s position.

  “You’re the one who wants to learn about magic, I take it?”

  Again, hammer met nail.

  “Theo. Yes, I am. If you wouldn’t mind. I won’t force you, and recruiting you to the position of investigator in a small town like this might’ve been a poor decision on our part. I’m sorry for that.”

  “No need. I’m sure I’ll find time to do both. You realise my magical skills might be limited, correct?”

  Theo nodded. He crossed every imaginary finger he had in hopes of Sherblanc at least staying a short while. There were spells to learn, even if they were regular glyph-based spells.

  “Then we have an accord,” Sherblanc said with a smile.

  “Thanks! Oh, and how do you know all this stuff? Or, guess, rather?”

  “I told you, I’m observant.”

  “And what did you observe to figure so many things out?”

  Sherblanc smiled. “A better question to ask. Your skin is a bit sun damaged, an unusual quirk for adults with an average Vital value. It shows signs of healing, which tells me your stats are all improving at a rapid pace—sheltered maybe, but not out here in the country, nor in any noble household—so a traveller, but the roads can prove difficult to most, more to stat-deprived young men like you. I wouldn’t have concluded you were an alien without the sudden sprouting of an effigy of Arcana, which I suppose makes my narrow-mindedness worthy of some criticism.”

  Theo’s hands rose to touch his cheek, then his forehead before he looked at the skin of his hands. He’d noticed no sunburns. It would make sense if he had it as he’d been working outside in the warm sun for almost two weeks now. He forgot that was an actual thing that happened. Well, could happen, if his stats were low enough.

  “And the magic?” Theo had his own suspicions about this.

  “Few with magical attunement skills will ever be found on a Fresh Start list. A town like this is also far from in dire need of an investigator.”

  Yep, just what Theo had thought. Sherblanc’s recruitment was for that sole reason, after all.

  “As for why it was you, I’ll refer to your being a newcomer to Aera; these people you surround yourself with all have their roles defined from the outset, be it a farmer, a woodcutter, or a brewer’s daughter. Few, if any of them, would start on an alternative path now, in particular one so difficult. Arcana might’ve provided you with teachings to give you an easier start of it, but you feel you’ve reached the end of the road. That’s why you seek guidance.”

  Sherblanc’s first glancing blow, Theo thought. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t quite right, either. Arcana’s teachings, if the sigil primer could be called that, weren’t exhausted, just put on hold as Theo increased his stats. He had grown certain that to cast more complex sigil combinations, he needed more mana, if just to experiment with so many sigils in one go. Theo didn’t feel he had reached the end of the road at all.

  “Not quite,” Sherblanc said, coming to the same conclusion. “The problem of simply observing,” he then laughed.

  “Close, though,” Theo said.

  “Appreciate it.”

  Theo finished tending his garden for a few more minutes, making sure the branches were fine and healthy, holding onto their fruits and whatnot, whilst trimming the growths of his gingerelli roots and doing some weeding. The gingerelli grew small, green plants, which had little use according to Willam. Instead, he should often trim the greenery so the roots themselves kept most of the nourishment they absorbed from the ground, water, and warmth of their bed.

  His limen and banaberries both attracted bugs in various forms, which were a boon rather than a detriment—but weeds were also growing like crazy in their beds, taking the bugs’ attention away from the planted growths. A trick Willam had taught him was to remove the weeds by their roots, cut the weeds apart from their roots and spread the greenery across the bed. Both the bugs and the remaining plants used these cut-offs. The roots were gathered as compost in a large bin over by Willam’s fields.

  As his last task in his garden, Theo brought the remains of the uprooted weeds over to the bin, then strode over to Hank and Willam, now standing just beyond the fields of both wheeto and neato. Theo was still eager to find out what those were, but he figured it was simple wheat and potatoes, just with an Aera twist to them. What if the neatos were sour, or the wheeto sweet?

  They were both looking down at a schematic held in Hank’s hands, looking at the most recent adjustments to Willam’s farmhouse. Willam was rather traditional in most things, but based on the design of the farmhouse, he was leaning more towards Sigil Lake’s somewhat unique style. The first design Theo had seen was nothing but a wide house with an attached stable and storage, but this version had some edge to it, along with a grander, separate stable. The building curved, forming a crescent with the main entrance being in the centre.

  Just as Theo reached them, a familiar light glowed over the ground in front of them, an ethereal copy of the building appearing from thin air. It was taller than Theo expected, and he hadn’t noticed the sudden rise of the main entrance’s roof—it reached twice the height of the rest of the roof, with a window sitting firm in the middle of the tower-like addition.

  “Another one down,” Hank grinned, rubbing his hands together as if he were shedding dirt. “Plenty more to go.”