My head rested on my right hand. The other held a glass jar. In said jar, a round, brown seed—reminiscent of a chestnut. I stared at it. Observing it. Not that the seed was going to do anything. Instead, I was still trying to telepathically communicate with Syn. Attempts of such all ended in failure for the past three days.

"Pay less attention to what'scs in your hand and more attention to what's in front of you, little Al!" Branne shouted as he walked into the back room. "This batch is especially important!"

"I already added the celandine and red nettle," I responded in a bored voice. "Just waiting until it becomes a dark red. Just like always."

Branne leaned his chest over my head, examining the contents inside the chest sized cauldron. "Eh, it looks dark enough to me."

I lowered the glass bottle and looked at Branne. "You wouldn't happen to have a recipe that can heal your eyes, would you?"

"What are you trying to say?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Go back to doing—whatever. I got this."

Branne mumbled a bit before leaving me alone in the back room.

"If you only you also got this telepathy down too," Syn said with a sigh.

"Soon."

"Which is already late."

"Give me a week at minimum. How am I supposed to learn telepathy and learn how to control all these new spells in such a short amount of time?"

Syn shook her head. "Why couldn't you be as talented as me?"

"And yet, look at where you still ended up."

"Channel some of that annoyed energy into a telepathic message."

"I'm trying."

"It's not good enough."

Before I could respond with an incredible genius and snarky response, I noticed the previously bright red mixture boil into a deep maroon. I wore thick, heatproof metal working gloves over my hands and pushed the cauldron to the side before extinguishing the fire. Into the solution, I dumped some freshly chopped butter. Using a wooden spoon, I gave it a few churns before letting it cool down for a few minutes. Once done, I dumped the contents into a small basin placed into an ice bath divided into ten parts.

The end result was lumpy maroon blocks of butter. However, these were not for consumption. Instead, they need to be placed in a mesh weave and then rubbed and squeezed on the area of injury.

"Does this actually work?" Syn asked with a healthy amount of suspicion in her voice as I explained it.

"According to Branne, yeah, it actually does."

"And according to tests?"

"I tend to avoid injuries for obvious reasons and thus have no experience with it. But Branne has been supplying the town with it for years before I even existed. And I tested all the ingredients one day when I was bored, and the red nettle did provide some minor healing, so it most likely does have some amplified effect and isn't just solid snake-oil."

"Very well then, I'll take your word. However, compared to potions, oils, and pills, it is—an odd delivery method."

"I can't say I disagree."

I waited several more minutes before placing each of the warm chunks of herbal butter into a ceramic box before taking it out front.

Vice Captain Cyrne was leaning against a glass counter and in deep conversation with Branne. I tried to mask my sudden appearance, hoping to listen in, but my presence did not go unnoticed.

"Ah, Aleister, wasn't it? I expected to run into you sooner, but apparently you don't get around much," Cyrne said, lifting his chest up.

"Alas, there is no rest for the wicked." I handed the box to Branne. "You wouldn't fancy another tarot reading, would you?"

"As much as I enjoyed it last time, I'm not paid enough to engage in such frivolous activities with such regularity."

"I understand."

"This is the last batch?" Branne asked.

"Yes."

"I told you it looked dark."

"Well, it wasn't."

"I trust you."

"Why haven't you tried selling batches of this stuff to a traveling merchant?" Cyrne asked. "With how useful it is, I'm sure you could turn a hefty profit?"

"Life is a wonderful thing." Branne dryly coughed. "Now then, where were we?"

I backed up from the two of them and entered the back room again. I left the door unnoticeably open and pressed my body against the wall, trying to listen in on their conversation. Several minutes passed by, but their voices were barely audible and nothing of interest was even hinted at.

"You didn't happen to catch anything juicy, did you?" I asked Syn.

"No."

After listening in for another minute, I gave up on hoping to learn any juicy news or gossip. Instead, I nicked a few bunches of unclean odinamon from a pot and stuffed them in my bag.

"You won't be needed for the next two days," Branne said as I took a step outside.

"Doesn't that mean I have the entire week off now?"

"Let me rephrase that. You won't be needed anymore... ever."

I stepped back inside. "Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine. In fact, I plan on travelling back to Osetia with Vice Captain Cyrne, which is why you won't be needed anymore."

"Oh."

"I'm allowing you to take over my shop until I decide to come back. And do not worry. I will leave you plenty of materials to work with."

"I assume you're travelling with the diplomat?"

"We'll be a few carts back covering the rear, but yes," Cyrne confirmed. He placed one hand on his hip and waved the other. "Other garrisons have also made the appropriate actions which include an increase highway patrollers and capturing o various deviants which may cause issue."

"Osetia is a long way north."

"Aye, a three-week journey from my memory," Branne said. "With all the extra baggage as well, it might take an entire month."

"Am I allowed to come with?" I asked.

Cyrne shook his head. "Unfortunately, Branne is a special case."

"And I'm his assistant, so that would make me special case adjacent."

"The problem lies in with the diplomatic entourage. They won't take too kindly to a random villager tagging along."

"And even if they allowed you to join us, would your parents even allow it?" Branne asked.

"It isn't like their answer matters, but there is a high chance they would say yes."

"If you are serious about this, I will ask for you, but don't get your hopes up," Cyrne said.

"Don't waste your time. I don't even have a reason to travel to Osetia."

"You sure?" Cyrne asked. "Your request seemed earnest enough."

"It was."

"Then—"

"Go ahead. There's no harm in asking."

"Just be prepared for the answer to be no."

"Wait." I tap my forehead with my finger. Athas's words from a few days past rang through my mind. "I have a brilliant proposition that doesn't require you to ask any questions."

"I'm listening."

"I join the Oxcross garrison as a strategist."

"You know I'm only a vice captain, right?"

"Ok, I'll change it up a bit. Instead, you're testing the abilities of some new recruits."

"On such an important task?"

"Exactly."

"I think the first option has a higher chance of success." Cyrne scratched his chin. "Recruits also implies more than one person."

"There is Athas. He's been wanting to join the Oxcross garrison for some time now, and this is the perfect chance to test him out as well."

Cyrne sighed. "I'll ask."

"Like I said, if it fails, don't worry about it. I'll just hide with Branne or something."

"Don't drag me into this," Branne said.

"You cannot neglect your duties as my master."

"You're fired."

"No, I'm actually pretty cold and it's only going to get worse when I step back outside," I said. "Anyway, I'll be back here tomorrow and the day after to help you pack up. Or something."

Branne placed his index finger on his forehead and his middle finger on his eye. "The shop will be locked."

"I'll open up for you then."

"There is—"

"Ok, bye."

I didn't wait for a response and left the shop. Several minutes passed by as I walked towards Athas's house. During the walk, I kept on expecting Syn to appear out of nowhere and speak up, but she never did.

"Guess she died."

"I did die. Why do you think I'm here?" Syn said, her voice sounding out directly in my head.

"IS THIS IT? DID I—"

"Shut up. I can hear the increase in your voice's volume due to your excitement. And, if I'm being honest, I'm actually slightly disappointed in how long this took you."

"Didn't ask."

"Don't care."

"I guess I still had my mind so focused on trying to communicate with you in the past few days, because I did not expect a general thought to be sent over to you."

"I'm dreading to think what other thoughts you have that might have been sent to me."

"Don't worry about my thoughts."

"I'm more worried that you don't think."

"And why would you say that?"

"Because I enjoy insulting you."

"I will use the [Severance] on you."

"Please do."

"How do I stop this telepathic communication?"

"Unless everything you've said to me is the entirety of what's going on in your head, then you just don't talk to me mentally."

"My head is going to explode from thinking about not thinking about telepathically talking to you."

"Good riddance."

I managed to avoid responding to her comment and came to a stop in front of Athas's house. Looking at the ground, I picked up a small pebble and tossed it at a window on the second floor. Many moments passed with no response. I grabbed another pebble and threw it as well. Unfortunately, Athas opened the window at the same time.

"Ow, what the hell was that for!" He shouted out, pressing one hand against his nose.

I waved both of my hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Then why am I getting such a bad feeling about that grin spread across your face."

"I talked to Vice Captain Cyrne, and there's a chance that we'll be recruited to the Oxcross garrison."

"Wait, you did what? And you said we? I'm pretty sure joining the garrison is the antithesis of everything you enjoy in life."

"Yes, I joined. Just for you. As having just one person would seem a bit odd."

"I don't know how to respond to this."

"Just repeat after me: Thank you Aleister, my lord, my savior, my king. It is on—" A sock slapped my face as I was talking and caused my tongue to accidentally lick it. I scraped it with my teeth and spat out multiple times.

Athas walked out the front door. "Who said I even wanted to join the Oxcross garrison?"

"You did and warn me next time."

"No. It's you who keeps on putting those words in my mouth."

"I wasn't putting them in your mouth. I was actually extracting them from your head and into my mouth."

"What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to tell mum?"

"Just tell her you're joining the Oxcross garrison. Not hard."

"Are you kidding me? You know how she's been all my life."

"I'm sure she'll be proud that you followed in your father's footsteps."

"Not funny."

"What's not funny?" Athas's mom walked out of the front door, standing right behind him. "I heard Aleister shouting, so I came to see what the fuss was about."

"Nothing," Athas said, turning around.

"Well..." I chuckled nervously. "I was actually trying to convenience Athas that he really should just join the Oxcross garrison. Even more so, because I had a deep and extended conversation with their vice captain not long ago. In fact, the important diplomat I mentioned is arriving soon, and he might ask the two of us to come along as recruits in order for some real world training."

"Oh, you wanted to join the Oxcross garrison?" she asked, looking at Athas.

"I didn't say that," he said, tapping his hand against themselves. "I just don't want to be a village guard any longer."

She stared at him in silence. This caused both him and I to shift and adjust our postures. "Thank the Heavens. I was worried that I might have caused you to be afraid of the world, just because of what happened to your father."

"I'm not afraid, I just don't you to worry."

"Of course I'm worried that you'll leave, but I'll always be worried about you no matter what you do."

"That instills a lot of confidence in me, mum."

"Don't be silly now. If you finally want to get out there and explore the world, go for it. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

"Really?"

"Really." She turned her attention over to me. "Aleister, I wish I could ask you to look over him, but I can't. Instead, I'm begging you, please promise me that you won't get him killed."

"Don't worry, I know where the line is drawn, and thus, I promise you, I will do my utmost to make sure Athas doesn't die."

"Yeah, if we're ever getting chased by some bandits, I'll can just outrun you, and let you fend them off," Athas said with nervous laughter.

I frowned. "You would really do that to me?"

"Ah, no, I just—" Athas waved his hands wildly in the air as he stammered, to come up with a response.

Even though I was laughing on the inside, I maintained a poker face and stared at him with slightly winced eyes.