When Harold was able to focus up he noticed a vague sense for the distance to the wasps. They seemed to be returning already. It took just a few minutes, and they flew up to him as if reporting for duty. Curious.

It took another ten for Kalle to show up again. And he did not seem keen to approach.

“Have you got them under control?” He glowered.

“I believe so, sorry about that, it wasn’t my intent,” Harold started. “I guess I did something to protect myself last night,”

“So, you really don’t know, what’s your [Class]?” When Harold looked hesitant, Kalle continued. “It’s clearly not [Farmer], I saw what you did to those trees last night, but farming Skills are neither that fast nor selective. And this was different.” He was looking pointedly at the warrior wasps.

“Look, I haven’t locked in, it’s just a starter Skill,”

Kalle nodded for him to go on.

“It’s [Druid], alright? Just [Druid] as far as I know, some variation probably.”

Kalle looked surprised, but not overly so. The Class wasn’t common, no magic-based Classes were, but they did live in the Doc Forrest region. If you were to get a magic [Class] then [Druid] would probably be it.

“Okay, I think I get it. So, what’s the Skill?” He pressured with an expectant look. Classes and Skills were highly private to pretty much everybody. But much less so before you'd locked in.

“Well, I don’t know much about it, I never used it this way before. It’s called [Touch of Chaos].”

This time Kalle actually looked surprised. Turns out he’d clearly only been slightly curious earlier.

“Let us go inside.” Kalle took the lead, since Harold was still looking, well, demented.

Having finally returned to the tavern Harold got his opportunity for a closer look at his helper. The fellow was a good two inches taller than Harold, but looked lighter despite the frame. Kalle was walking behind the bar and getting a drink for them both, Harold was too tired to think and did not mind the familiarity. Although he likely would have remarked on it at another time.

“So, I take it you are the one I spotted up in the tree last night?” Harold started with a wry smile, thinking back. “I thought you followed like that to beat me up, but you are not the [Farmer] are you?”

Kalle sat heavily before answering, having been on his feet all night.

“I live there, have for the past four years. I just do not come into town that often. But listen,”

Before he could go on Harold interrupted. “What was that screaming ghost then? It was yours, right?” As he finally got some time to piece a few bits of the puzzle together, things were not quite adding up.

“If you are just a kid who lives at the orchard, how were you throwing around Spells like that?” He started glowering. “In fact, the only one who should be capable of Spells like that around here is possibly that [Warlock] guy I saw yesterday, you sure you are not with him?”

Kalle was too tired to do more than sigh in response.

The next second old man Dunner was back, sitting across from Harold, nursing his apple drink like it was yesterday. Harold thought about doing his best shocked face once more, for a good couple of seconds, before he realised the moment had passed and he decided to just rub his eyebrows.

Once the cobwebs melted away, he felt ready to face the world again. He looked at Kalle and asked twenty four questions with a raise of his brows.

What followed was an exposition on everything from how Kalle ended up at the orchard with the old couple at age fourteen to how he found the remains of the old man and received his [Class]. He even told Harold what he had figured out about the rogue item, how it lasted him a good nine hours with no interference, and needed to be charged by moonlight.

“So, you actually only need it to charge halfway using moonlight, the rest of the way sunshine works fine, and the magic energy will duke it out and turn into the kind it needs,” He finished his drink and sat back again, lips pursed in thought.

“Alright, so elephant in the room. The guard yesterday, she probably told you what I was up to, right?”

It had been a fascinating tale, and Harold was engulfed for the majority, but thoughts about the missing pieces of the puzzle did crop up and intrude on the obvious attempt at a bonding session.

“She told me you were ‘feeding off’ my emotion, using it to level your [Class] somehow.”

Kalle winced in response. “Look, I get how it sounds, and with the reputation [Warlocks] have, I know it's not as simple as asking you to just trust me. But I’ve only been one for less than a year. I thought all the same things as you about the Class before all this.” He got up and started pacing, biting his thumbnail and searching for a way to explain.

Harold figured he could ease his mind. “Look, I see what you’re saying, she already told me you weren’t a criminal, just that casting secret magic was prohibited. So, if you just want me to keep your secrets then you can relax, you’ve convinced me that you're not out to get me atleast. Not to mention this town is boring as is without the only even real magic-based [Class] in town being chased off.”

Harold stopped Kalle's pacing with a hand resting on Kalle’s shoulder and smiled conspiratorially. “And you will be keeping mine about the apples, won'tcha?” He gave his best goofy smile, as if the secrets were equal.

“I said some things yesterday that were just meant to lead you to some painful thoughts, and that is messed up and I do apologise,” It was Kalle’s turn to put a hand on the shoulder for emphasis, but with the awkwardness of them both doing it they both ended up shaking their heads with a smile and sitting back down.

“Look, I did partly do it because it levels my [Class], that part is true. But I’m not just a [Warlock], I am a... Are you ready?” Kalle looked excited to tell him.

“Uh, yeah?” Does he think I actually know something about some other types of [Warlock]?

“I am an [Esperlock]!” When the announcement fell as flat as Harold expected, Kalle was forced to elaborate. “You know, like with emotions, like my [Wailing Bolt]?”

“Right, the screaming ghost, what was up with that?” Thinking back, it actually sounded terrified, I figured it wanted to eat my soul at the time...

“Yeah, it exacerbates negative emotions, like fear, insecurity and depression. It is a mental attack,”

"Not as impressive as souleating, but alright I suppose," Harold muttered.

Kalle gave Harold a weirded out look, but now he was getting back into it. “But that is not what I was doing to you yesterday, it’s my other Skill called [Esper’s Balm]. It’s essentially a cauterizing Skill, meant to provide the target with the emotional energy to cope, and the more emotional you got the more the Skill was given to work on.”

Harold was still giving him a blank look.

“Still not okay, I know, but it doesn’t work even half as well if the target is aware. I would’ve asked if I could. But it’s been weeks, right? So, I did what I could,” Kalle spread his hands.

For the first time since heading out yesterday Harold had the chance to remember his situation again.

“Six months.” He said bleakly.

“Oh, oh damn, are you for real,” Harold gave him a sharp look but Kalle quickly raised his hands.

“Look, I know he was your father, but that emotion I felt yesterday was the real deal. You have really been dwelling on it, haven’t you? I did not feel anything like it from any of the 30 people I tried this on at old Bertrud’s funeral back when I was level 1. If you do put time in and actually work on getting past it you might really be affected long term. I am sure you know that much already?”

Despite the sympathetic words and look Kalle was giving him, Harold hesitated, not sure he should share the feeling he had inside with this stranger, despite their commonalities.

“Yeah, you might not be wrong, but it’s one thing knowing and one thing doing something about it.”

Harold finally needed a break and took the time to go feed the hens and perform the rest of his morning routine. This was going to be a slow and draining day with the amount of sleep he had gotten. Bring water from the well, chop the wood, stir the apple pulp in the brewing vat. The bare minimum.

In the meantime Kalle went to grab another drink and took his time reworking his pitch. When Harold returned it would be time to get down to business.