Adam looked at Alina's face, dazed by her revelation and almost falling to the ground.

"What do you mean you can't read? Is this a joke?" Adam said in frustration, his eyes narrowing in contemplation.

After a moment, he said, "Ok, look. I have an idea."

Using the baby's finger, he crudely drew an image of her leaving the house. Then, he drew her talking to a man holding a book.

Simultaneously, Alina watched her baby draw with fear and fascination. She couldn't help but see hope as she understood the creature wanted something. Maybe it would leave after obtaining it?

After thinking to this point, she focused on the finished drawing, her eyes widening.

She hurriedly lowered her face, hiding it as she said, "I... I think I understand. I'll go find someone who can read and bring him here."

Then, she stood up and left the house, her hand covering her mouth as Adam's chest puffed with pride.

"Hum, Hum. I knew I could be a professional drawer if I wanted to!" He exclaimed.

*****

Alina swiftly closed the door, unable to hold back anymore as she exploded into laughter, wondering who, between the baby and the entity, made the drawing.

She understood its meaning, sure. But only because it was logical for her to look for someone to read the message. How terrible of a drawer could the entity be? She nearly laughed out loud in front of it.

Seriousness returned to her face as she collected herself and ran towards the village's plaza, aiming to ask a shop owner for help. After all, she didn't know anyone literate and thought her best bet would be to ask an apothecary as they were renowned for their knowledge.

After ten minutes, she pushed the shop's door open, her breath ragged after the effort.

Inside, she saw a wrinkly man, his hair and beard completely white, resting behind the counter.

Behind him, strange flasks and bottles of various shapes and colors adorned the shelves alongside a small library supporting a few books.

She sighed in relief after noticing them and realising the shop was empty as most citizens were returning from work at this hour.

With hurried steps, she approached the counter and said with a trembling voice. "Elder, elder, please help me."

Alarmed by the panicked young woman, the man's eyes narrowed in focus.

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"Ahem, what do you need, little one? Are you or someone you know injured or sick? Tell me the symptoms, and I'll give you the right medicine." He said in concern and fearing the worst.

"I can't really explain, but my baby is in danger! Only someone literate can save him. I can pay you, so please help me, elder." She pleaded earnestly, unwilling to waste time and leave her child alone with the creature more than necessary.

Intrigued by the request, the old man pondered her words briefly. After studying medicine his whole life, he prided himself on his vast knowledge and experience and couldn't help but notice her strange wording. She needed someone literate, not an apothecary or a physician. Yet her request and emotions were genuine, compelling him to help.

"Calm down. I'll follow you. We'll talk about payment after your baby is safe." He responded gently, his voice reassuring, as he walked towards the door.

*******

Simultaneously, the baby in question laughed joyously, carried in the air by the ghost. He had nothing better to do anyway, so why not? But this time, he paid attention to the door, ready to swiftly place the baby back.

After twenty minutes, Alina unlocked the door and entered, surprise covering her features as the apothecary followed in confusion, wondering how a laughing baby was in danger.

However, before he could ponder the question further, Alina exclaimed. "Look, elder, there is something written on the ground. I need your help to read it."

"Hmm. It is written in our language. I can translate it for you." The apothecary replied reassuringly, his brown eyes swiftly scanning the elegant letters.

Meanwhile, Adam's heart swelled in hope and excitement, feeling the man was reliable and would read his message.

"It is written: I'm not a bad ghost! I suffered soul damage and need help to recover. I promise to leave you and your baby in peace once healed." As his words lingered in the air, his eyes widened in shock after his mind registered their gravity.

"Yes! That's what I wrote! You got it right!" Adam yelled, his bright eyes glowing with joy. He was finally progressing.

However, his joy wasn't shared as the apothecary's voice turned angry.

"Did you just involve me with a ghost?" He asked, his voice laced with frustration and his face pale. He hoped this entire setting was a nasty prank from the woman, unwilling to be dragged into supernatural troubles.

Alina scratched her head in response. She hadn't considered that point in her panic and only wanted to save her son.

As she lowered her head in guilt, Adam gazed at the man mischievously. He carried the baby, causing the man's eyes to bulge in horror, and used his finger to write once again.

"Help her, or I'll curse you and your descendants for seven generations." The apothecary almost fainted after reading the letters as Adam burst into laughter, amused by his vivid reactions.

After a short moment, he recovered his calm. He was in trouble, but the situation wasn't desperate yet.

"Oh mighty ghost, master of curses and mysteries, allow this old man to help you seek a remedy. I know of a concoction capable of strengthening mana flow. It has potent beneficial side effects that can purify and heal the soul." He spoke respectfully, his head lowered, then added. "However, one of the ingredients is extremely rare."

Wondering when he got so many cool titles, Adam nodded in satisfaction. The potion's effects aligned with what he needed.

"Get them as fast as you can if you don't want to end up cursed..." He wrote.

"I...I... I can't. One ingredient is too hard for me to procure and is almost unavailable on the market." The old apothecary stuttered, wishing he never left his warm and comfortable shop.

"Tell me about this one. I'll find it myself. Get the others."

"It's... it's ghost essence, sir." He answered, his hands trembling, not knowing if he should laugh or cry at the irony.