The newcomer’s morning routine started before the sunrise. Gillibert went flying after food, while Isemberd worked on a breakfast. He now had a new kind of problem: he needed money, and he also had an order from Count Wells disguised as a suggestion for him to offer his services around the settlement.

The mage’s staff that was used the last day was now hidden under his bed, while other details of his magic job were being gradually hidden: fancy symbols on his clothes and tools were scratched, scrolls were tossed into a chest and locked away, ingredients for poultices and solutions were organized in his new study, rings with shiny gems were wrapped in cloth and buried outside the house.

The young mage wrote a list of products and services that could fit the Count’s order. While writing it, Gillibert came in flying and landed on his shoulder, to watch him do it. Soon, Isemberd had a great deal of things organized and the owl went bored and left again.

Before lunch, Isemberd was in his room, finishing taking care of all of his luggage. He gestured with his hand, two fingers crossed over each other, his eyes started to glow an intense orange light, that slowly turned yellow. The wooden crate trembled and started to dismantle itself.

Nails and rivets came out on their own, levitating and storing themselves in a drawer. Wooden boards floated, and metal sheets twisted and curled up. Soon the materials from the crate were in a corner, ready to be repurposed.

Over the bed, there was a thick book with a leather cover. It was black, seemed heavy and was firmly closed with a heavy silver padlock.

“Master! Is this…” Gillibert hesitated. “That book? The one everyone seemed to be talking about?”

“It is.”

The magic bird goggled afraid of it.

“How scary…”

“Don’t worry. It’s powers are properly locked away.” as if it was listening to the conversation, the book let out a beast-like growl and started trembling, the padlock shaking a bit. Indifferent to it, Isemberd added “Locked away with many other things. I hope I never need to touch that thing again.”

Gillibert pecked him in the ear.

“Me too! What are we going to do with it? Burn it? Throw it at the river?”

Isemberd sighed heavily.

“There is no magic in Neoria, or Sorin, or any of our neighbor kingdoms that is capable of destroying this book.”

“Maybe burying it...?” the owl suggested.

“Someone already tried it. That’s how things went wrong the first time.”

“Truly vile.” Gillibert said, flying away to his roost, near the bed.

The mage wrapped the book in a ragged blanket, until completely covering it and forming a big package. With both hands he threw it into a big drawer and closed it.

“The person that knew how to deal with it… well, actually, it doesn’t matter.” his voice changed into a deep and serious tone that made Gillibert uncomfortable. He changed topic: “Let’s go, you wanted to see the town right?”

They left to visit the market and the town square after of Otterwesh after it. Isemberd walked fast and kept his hood lowered, even with the clear and sunny day. Summer was near it’s end and the weather was pleasant, with a gentle and frequent breeze.

Otterwesh had more visitors at that time of the year and the locals were very curious. Isemberd hated that and did put a lot of effort into keeping his disguise. Gillibert had strict orders about not speaking near anyone that didn’t already knew of his magic nature, so the owl kept silent while they were in the town. That, however, didn’t stop him from flying around near products, landing near merchants and annoying people and animals.

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People seemed to not care much about it and many would go out of their ways to talk to Isemberd about his pretty owl. He lost count of how many times he looked away to talk to someone, only to find the bird playing with kids or dogs near the town center.

Isemberd ran after him a few times and apologized to people that ended up chit-chatting with him. The young man then introduced himself as the sage sent to Otterwesh by Count Wells orders to work. He offered services on alchemy, medicine and anything law-related. He even had to show his written permission with the Count’s official signet to some suspicious people that asked him about it.

Just like the owl’s ability to speak, Isemberd was hiding his magic from everyone. Magic-wielders weren’t with the best reputation lately, specially after the war against Soryn’s dynasty of wizards. He was sure people in the countryside still had many superstitions about magic and it’s practitioners. He didn’t want to try his luck and run the risk of ending up in a big pyre or hanging on a tree for saying the wrong thing.

Though he ended up having some useful conversations, bought food and a nice basket, visited a tavern and discovered where the town hall was and that it had a library being build. Isemberd also found about an old lady with a shop almost outside the town. She was a very skilled apothecary and had many of the herbs and ingredients the young mage didn’t find by himself.

From there, he went home, entering the woods and moving towards his home without using the official pathway. On their way, Gillibert pecked him in the ear, with a curious look.

“Can I speak now?”

“No.” The mage shook his head.

“Did it work?” the owl asked anyway.

“Hmm well enough.” the man replied, his gaze moving to the horizon. They were near the stream that flowed to the river, and from there they could watch the green hills. He added: “More or less.”

“You don’t seem pleased about it.” Gillibert observed.

“How I feel does not matter.”

They went silent for a while and the bird restarted the conversation:

“Why do you hide your magic? I bet a lot of people would love to pay for you to clean things with flying mops and buckets, is so fun to watch!”

Isemberd stopped near a berry bush, grabbed a few of them and ate one while going back to his path.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, offering a small berry to the bird, that touched it with its beak before refusing it.

“Yes, I remember very well.”

“The people that did those things with you were also mages, from a kingdom named Soryn” he started explaining. “They are our neighbors, a little on the north from here, in Neoria.”

“I thought we were from Otterwesh.”

“Otterwesh is just a small place in Neoria.” They kept walking while chatting.

“Oh, I get it now.” Gillibert said.

His guardian continued the explanation:

“Mages of both places did a lot of bad things during the war. A lot of people suffered or died by how magic was used, not to mention that book.”

Isemberd stopped, touching a tree bark and thinking for a moment, in silence. His memories of that time were painful and recent, so he tried to shake them away from his thoughts.

“So, we don’t talk to people about our magic, even if it helps, at least for now. And you, well, don’t talk anyway. We better keep ourselves out of trouble for a while.”

“Master Isemberd” the owl flew to a nearby branch, gazing at the mage with it’s big eyes filled with a mysterious wisdom.

Isemberd hesitated. Gillibert wasn’t one to think too much before talking.

“What is it?”

“I simply cannot imagine you doing horrible things in a war.”

The mage sighed heavily.

“Can you imagine what your brothers did?”

“Oh, that I sure can. I even saw it a bit! Blood and people’s parts everywhere…”

“I’m glad you haven’t seen anything I did.” Isemberd interrupted his small friend. “It was way worse.”

Gillibert goggled at him for a moment, at a loss of words. Isemberd offered him an arm and the owl thought for a moment before flying there.

“Even so.” he insisted, waving his wings. The small owl still looked seriously thinking about it. “I’m sure you work for your forgiveness everyday, master.”

“I don’t know Gilli. I really don’t know.”

“Look master, today you helped that little girl to not fall in the font, you also helped that old sir with his written papers and, and, well, a lot of things!”

Isemberd looked forward, to the woods, and kept walking the way back home, in silence. The owl now was just talking to fill in the silence of his master, his own clumsy way of trying to cheer him up.