The evening had been muggy so the bits of snow that still littered the area were growing wet and the ground, muddy. Third had found an old pair of cowboy boots so he excitedly chose them, but the rest of his outfit was similar to one identified to be worn by upper-class men.
Originally he’d wanted to wear the same peasant costumes he saw earlier but it was internally decided that he could not possibly pose as a peasant. Nobody bothered to explain ‘why?’ to him, but the words ‘far too pompous’ were mentioned in an email chain.
In the end, he was wrapped up in a rectangular piece of polyester fabric that had been hand dyed by some scientists as a test for local fabric production. It was breathable and comfortable, but he wasn’t a fan of the bright green. Even if it’s to blend in, he hated the color so he made every effort not to see himself in the mirror.
“Rocky is still here, right Benj?” He asked reaching what had once been a petting zoo on the grounds beside the airfield.
“Yeaap,” An older man with a cowboy hat chuckles from where he’d been puffing on a cigar on the porch of the doublewide. “Helen! Go get Bullwinkle tacked up for little boss.”
A long pause came from the double wide before eventually, the door snapped open and a freckled woman in her late 30s stepped out. “Some’ne at the bar said you’d come back but I couldn’t believe it till I saw’d it.”
A rough smile met Third from a good distance before quickly narrowing itself.
Wrapping Third in a painfully powerful hug, she gave him no choice but to pat her back three times to complete the ritualistic exchange. It felt like tapping out of a hold rather than an embrace.
“Look at you in this outfit! Snazzy. So, how have you been, gosh, how long’s’it been?”
“Ah yeah, long time.” Third laughs scratching his head to mine for anything to say.
“Probably since the funeral I guess.” Helen muses before coming upon some other question and rapidly firing. “What’ve you been doing?”
“Ah, yeah, not a whole lot. I mean…”
“Helen, the horse.” Benji interrupts Third to free him of the conversation before he lost the opportunity. “I’m sure little boss has important work he needs to do. You’re heading to that town?”
“Are you going? For what?” Helen perks up only to receive another quick order from the man.
“Can’t say, for now, you’ll be the first to know what happens when I get back though.” Third promises to get them off his back.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Benji muses to himself into his cigar. “Say’s what's the name of that place anyways?”
“The town?” Third asks.
“Yeah. All the people talking about it at the bars just call it the town, or village, same with all the official memos getting sent out.”
“I’m not sure,” Third admits after a moment of consideration. “I’ll ask.”
Eventually, Helen returned with a roughly tacked greying Clydesdale and held it steady as Third awkwardly stepped up with the help of a creaky fencepost. Offering a few final words of thanks, he pulls the reigns to a side and squeezes his boots to get moving.
With the Zoo behind him, he kicked the horse forward faster down the grassy path alongside the road to Lot 2A.
He spotted a few curious onlookers but gave them no notice as he continued to his meeting spot.
The area already received plenty of sun so most of the snow had already seared off the black asphalt surface. The dark ground made the figure, wrapped in a pale blue embroidered gown, hard to miss amongst the otherwise monochromatic parking lot.
Eventually slowing the horse a handful of yards from his travel companion, he reined it to a stop and dismounted to the left.
“Finally.” Sophia quietly mutters. “I’ve already been approached by two different security guards thinking I was some lost local.”
“How come you get blue?!” Third protests, looking off towards the office building HR had taken over.
“It’s nice isn’t it?” Sophia asks, twirling nimbly to unfurl the elaborate pattern etched along its length. “I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m not mad at the alias change.”
‘That’s right,’ Third remembered as the words pass him, what was his name supposed to be? He’d seen it mentioned in the email along with a highly detailed backstory they had crafted but he honestly didn’t see the reason for it, so he barely skimmed over it. “Well let’s get going before the first afternoon carriages start showing up.”
Sophia didn’t quite understand the latter part but she did understand what he was implying by the head motion. “You want me to ride on the back? We have a few different carts, so why not…”
“Come on,” Third interrupts impatiently without waiting for the excuse. “This trip is for gathering information and it wouldn’t make sense for people dressed like us to be arriving with an empty cart. It was suspicious enough that you all did it the first time.”
Sophia stood blankly for a moment as she considered if he was right. “You were gone. You weren’t here when we arrived. Where were you?”
Third didn’t answer. He held her gaze until she felt she had no choice but to smile with his silence as some sort of confirmation.
“Let’s go.” She relents, received his hand and clumsily mounting the horse behind his back.
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“How many of your citizens are tied up farming in the spring and fall?” Third asks without turning away from the chancellor.
Sophia looked at him as if he had just called the man with a slur. This was so far off the plan, she couldn’t even keep track of how many times Third had proceeded on his own accord to bring them to this moment.
“Hmm?” The chancellor eventually mumbles out as he realizes the question, his expression turns to one of calculation. “Perhaps a thousand. Why do you ask?”
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“And a lot of that is managing water and grain mills?” Third continues after hearing a number higher than he had even anticipated.
“Oh, well if you include mill staff it's more; but that’s year-round work, you specified spring and fall.” The chancellor quickly adds to explain his reasoning for not accounting for them in his total.
“I see.” Third nods rubbing his chin as he considers his next words. “How would you value that exactly? Having those workers freed up for other work I mean.”
Sophia realized the angle Third was approaching but she’d been strictly instructed not to contact, let alone make a deal with, any foreign government official.
“Hugely valuable, but I don’t understand, what are you proposing exactly?”
“Water treatment, sewage management, farmland reclamation, irrigation, fertiliz–”
“Wait, wait, I don’t…” The chancellor tried to interrupt as he began hearing words that were beyond him.
Third on the other hand ignored the interruption and continued as if he hadn’t heard a word. “We just need a loan and a way to secure a large supply of livestock and staple grain.”
“Third, what happened to…” Sophia began to say but again Third took it to no mind and pulled at the cloth tucked carefully around his neck.
Both Sophia and the Chancellor looked at him as if he were stripping naked. But much to the chancellor’s relief and Sophia’s shock what he revealed was instead an ordinary T-shirt and Jeans.
“I can’t give you too much detail, because it wouldn’t make any sense, but trust me when I say handling something like this is completely within our ability.”
Sophia couldn’t help but nod as the chancellor turned his gaze past her to silently request confirmation.
The chancellor, breathing deeply to calm his sudden nerves. Turned his attention back to Third and his brightly dyed T-shirt. The construction of the shirt was impressive enough but as the chancellor looked closer, he noticed that every stitch was perfectly distanced apart.
Having a quilter as a wife he understood with little more than a glance that what he was looking at was far beyond human skill. He could only ponder which hidden group was backing the young man standing before him. If it were elves, then it’s no wonder he had offered agricultural aid. But he had seen elven cloth before, this was different.
Certainly, it wouldn’t be dwarves, or the wasteland barbarian.
The various thoughts rumbled around his head as he found himself gripping at the seam of Third’s sleeve without realizing it. “My apologies. That was very rude of me.”
The chancellor, changing his attitude to a more respectful one, unleashed his grip and rubbed his hands together as if warming them. “It’s not a proposal I can accept outright with such vague terms. However, if the details can be ironed out, I’d be more than happy to pursue it.”
“I already broke some rules so I can’t return without a result today.” Third explains with a shake of his head. “You have three shut public wells, and from how it looked, more to come. You already have people getting sick from drinking straight from the river. So you aren’t in a position to end this conversation without a result either. We can have a five-hundred-foot well dug by the end of the week. With that alone, you could provide enough water for a quarter of your citizens.”
The Chancellor again morphed expressions in sequence as he heard the blunt words fall from Third’s mouth. After a long moment, he sighed and turned away from the pair.
Four eyes widened in worry behind him as he began walking away towards a row of bookcases mounted against a far wall. He spent a minute or two padding through a pile of wood cases. Eventually, he seemed to find what he was looking for and returned towards the two clutching it in his hands.
Flipping open its wooden lid he thumbed towards the middle of a stack of pale greenish cards. Finding the one he needed he returns the box to an end table beside him and turns his attention back to Third.
“Moving any livestock is impossible until the thaw. But we can give you a portion of our emergency grain reserve. Maybe five or ten hur.”
Third laughs with a shake of his head. “No, we could go through ten hur of grain in a weekend. We’re looking for orders of magnitude more than that.”
“You have to understand this grain is the last lifeline for thousands of people. If next winter…”
“Five hundred hur and your people will never have to worry about food again. They won’t freeze in the winter, suffer drought, or poison themselves with sewage ever again. Shake my hand and we can make this village the new center of the world.”
The chancellor looked at the extended hand with the same mix of feelings he had felt since this conversation started. He felt talked down to by the man in front of him but at the same time every word Third had said regarding the state of this village was true. He would have thrown the two out if not for the confidence that Third’s nonchalant-ness emanated. He couldn’t help but believe his words, as bizarre and outlandish as they sounded.
Sophia too looked at the extended hand as her stomach knotted further. She felt a bit bad for the chancellor but Third was looking out for the people of Arna and Reynolds and although his negotiation was rough he wasn’t exactly lying about the potential gains by agreeing. As it currently stood, although things might seem fine for Arna and Reynolds, the situation is a lot more dire than it appears.
“Fine. I will trust in my gut.” The chancellor's hand met Third’s and they shook. “We can have some carriages loaded before sunset.”
“That’s not necessary.” Third says with a shake of his head. “We have to bring trucks to dig the well anyways so we may as well bring it back then.”
“Trucks?” The chancellor asks knitting his brow at another unknown word.
“I suppose we need to cut the road first. So, wait and see.” Third explains with a shrug.
Sophia noting the silence returns to her work mindset. “We will draw up the necessary documents and have them sent over. Thank you so much for your time today and we very much look forward to working with you.”
“Of course.” The chancellor adds with a nod. He too wanted a break from the energy of this unexpected meeting.
“We will see ourselves out,” Sophia says, picking up the outfit Third removed and grabbing his wrist. Passing by a few curious glances they headed straight down the hallway and out the great hall.
For a long while the Chancellor stood in place as he considered the situation again with his newfound hindsight. With a sigh he knew he had no choice but to call the council in, the hard part would be sounding half as convincing as Third had.
Stepping back towards the bookcase and returning the wooden box to where he had retrieved it from, he grabbed a lantern from another shelf and lit it with a nearby candle. Stepping out of his office he calmly paced down the hall and entered the great hall. With a reverent breath, he gripped a long pole from where it rested against the wall and used it to raise the lantern high into a nook above the vaulted ceiling. The lantern sent tinged green light in all directions and for those looking for it, it was a straightforward way to send messages across great distances in mere moments.
Not more than five minutes later, the small group had assembled. They each represented a position either in society or occupation. The local guild masters of the mason and carpentry guilds, a retired noble who had chosen the village as his retirement project, and even a woman who, until hearing about the summons, had been serving drinks in a revealing outfit at a side street bar.
“I met a young couple today who seem to represent a hidden group of some kind.” The Chancellor began to explain as the group finally settled in. He explained all about the strange incident as well as the odd clothes and strange words they both used.
“It was a rash decision, but it seems you had no choice but to act then.” The mason’s guild master –a balding elderly man with dry cracking skin– shrugs after hearing of the five hundred hur deal.
“A third of our emergency grain supply is a pain to lose but if they are offering not just a well but taking over for the workforce of the field. That’s almost too good to be true.” The lanky Carpentry master chimes with indifference. “The question becomes, what are they getting out of this deal?”
“Well, Grain for one.” The mason’s guild master reiterates.
But his colleague disagreed with a shake of his head. “No, clearly this deal isn’t just about a few hundred hur of grain. Think about the words he left you with Chancellor. ‘The new center of the world,’ does that sound like the conclusion to a deal about digging a water well and sending out a few hundred slaves?”
None of them could argue his point. They were just as confused by the deal. But having no concrete feeling to categorize the strangeness, they had no choice but to adjourn with these questions unanswered.
As the small group began splintering back towards their respective headquarters to share this new information as well as adjust their plans around it, only one of the figures was left chuckling to herself as she sauntered back towards her bar.
“So there are other strangers?” She laughs as she pictures the strange man she’d come across a few days prior. “No wonder his aura was so foreign. I suppose I should take a deeper look.”
Picturing the blood drop, she smiled as if a glimpse of the truth had appeared in her mind. Her pace hastened as a strange curious excitement brewed up in her for what felt like the first time since she was a young child.