The inside of the building is as dark as Toslevi's house. Few beams of light pass between the closed shutters.

A round table dominates the center of the room, showing off a pedestal decorated with river reliefs. All around, gadgets of all sorts fill the walls, from animal heads to fishing tools.

The stale smell makes Sely turn up her nose. She is standing in front of the table – around which four figures sit.

Hooded, the figures are hunched over some paperwork. Two are writing with splinters similar to those of Toslevi, while another is reading.

Sely feels uncomfortable. She has been there for several moments and no one says anything.

Not even her father, standing beside her.

“So, Toslevi, this is the traveler?” the central figure of her removes her hood. Revealing herself to be a bald old woman, adorned with gold and rust jewels.

“Yes, wise lady. Her name is Sely.”

Sely looks at her father. She still knows him little, but his deferential tone sounds unnatural to her.

The old woman brings her wrinkled eyes to Sely.

“Is what this man says true?”

Sely nods.

“Speaks! In words, gestures can be misunderstood.”

“Y-yes… it's true.”

“Well very well. So, is it true that you are also the bearer of news?”

Sely starts to nod but, seeing the old woman's gaze narrow, she sighs. “Yes, that's true too.”

“Hm. Tell me, I'll give you the floor.”

Sely tries to hide her irritation. The lady is really rude! Aaah!

“My mom…”

“Mom is not an appropriate term for a traveler. I don't know the customs of your city, but here they say: mother.”

“Yes… my Mother usually studies the celestial vault and…”

The old woman chuckles coarsely. The small group of hooded men continues to ignore those present.

“Ah ah ah, just like Toslevi! See, there are other crazy people in the world. How bizarre!”

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Sely, out of the corner of her eye, tries to decipher her father's expression. It's red. Red with anger, with a throbbing vein on his forehead.

I cannot believe it!

This arrogant woman is really rude! I'm surprised that she holds a role respected by the whole city!

“I-I was saying…”

“Ah ah, yes-yes, go ahead.”

“Yes, during her observations, my mother spotted a flying city. If the route hasn't changed, it will arrive here too.”

The old woman becomes serious.

“So, Toslevi, you spoke the truth.”

Toslevi sighs, regaining a calmer complexion: “Yes, I would never lie to you, wise lady.”

The old woman lets herself go into her seat. Only now, Sely notices the luxury of that seat of hers: compared to the others in her room, it is adorned with reliefs carved into the armrests and backrest of hers. Furthermore, it is golden wood.

The human who made it must be a skilled craftsman!

Dad should sit in it, not this sage wisdom…

“The legends are true. The legends are true” murmurs the old woman. “How long did you say we have until we arrive?”

Maybe, they are referring to the previous conversation when Sely was out trying to shop.

“These are calculations based on very old finds… they are not of great value, wise lady. In any case, taking into account the journey of the messenger Sely, I imagine we have a maximum of eight days left.”

Ah, how can he say that? Even mom isn't that precise… he must have used advanced math…

I have to ask him to teach me how to get past the basics; being able to predict events must be incredible!

While looking at her father with admiration, Sely begins to ask herself a question: but now that I have delivered the message... what should I do?

A question whose answer comes from the mayor.

“Tell me, Sely, is it true that you have an ancient weapon with you?”

“Uh, if you mean the gun… yes, here it is” Sely shows the holster under her cloak.

“Optimal. Then it's decided. Since it's a holiday in two evenings, let's postpone it until the third day.”

“For what?” Sely is perplexed.

“To go and mediate with the Creraga spiders. Toslevi, you traveler, and my son Endya who must make amends.”

WHAT!?

“Don't make that disgusting disrespectful expression!” The old woman thunders. “Toslevi is our mediator, his dirty past is convenient for us. You have come to bring us unfortunate news, it is your duty to contribute to the resolution.”

“Well, r-really…”

“Shut up, little girl! If this were not the case, you could even perish on the journey. And Endya, in his stupidity, insists on staying at Toslevi's bedside, rather than learning the arts of her mother: Mayor of Vanoge!”

The furious old woman gets up from her seat and points her bony index finger at Toslevi.

“Therefore, it is now your task to teach him that final art of your alchemy: human-insect communication!”

Sely frowns.

She’s all crazy... certain insects, like goatmantis, don't communicate!

The others... well, we know how to talk, what do you think!? But what art and alchemical art!

AAAAH!!! That anger!

Dad tell her something!

“Okay, wise lady” Toslevi kneels solemnly. “I will teach your son this art. I will hold council with the king of Creraga and will have the traveler accompany me.”

“M-MAH!?”

“Shut up, traveler. You will be properly rewarded. For two days, meanwhile, be satisfied with our hospitality...” the old woman sits down again, serene - as if she had never been angry.

“It would be nice,” she adds, “to have you as a guest at the festival.”