“Muni.”

The man said that two minutes and five seconds ago. Back then he responded it with a curt nod. After all, as the social convention went, the guest should wait for the host to speak first — welcoming his arrival, spouting small talks about what this island was, about who he was, and perhaps, perhaps, some awkward explaining-slash-apologizing about what had happened to Clar and Apprentice. You knew, bits and bits of non-optional social dance — inevitable stuff when one party met the other for the first time in polite company. He even had already prepared the structured replies, like how he would nod appreciatively to all of his welcomes, how he would ooh and ahh if the man was showing something he was proud of. Like that coral reefs grounds for example (which was amazing by the way). Then when the small talks had petered out and they inevitably came to the part where they needed to exchange sorries, he’d nod both vehemently and awkwardly (perhaps even with shrugging the back of his hair) how he was eternally thankful when they decided to held Clar rather than letting her went off to find him. That and few praises more would allow both of them to move from a passing acquaintance to a good acquaintance. Which if they were lucky would even facilitate the two children making up.

Yet, two minutes and eleven seconds had passed since then — since his beautifully concocted impromptu plan. His wonderfully planned repartee had collapsed to a growing ulcer in his stomach as the man, God knew why, kept his silence. He meant why? How? The man never talked more than that ‘Muni’ one-liner. Instead, what all he did do and still doing was just walking upfront step by step. Yes. Walking. That was it. Walking never stopping. Well, to be fair the man did stop three times. But — but it wasn't for his much waited talking. No the man stopped because he —his concerned guest— was slowing down, trying his best to signal him to begin ‘the talk’. Repeatedly.

It was maddening, really. Why? Why?? Had he done something wrong? Another faux-pas? Culture clash? God knew he was shocked when knowing that not-eating carb-filled, fattening koshi for breakfast was considered the highest order of travesty. Now, his properly planned pandering had turned into some kind of cringe skit when he’d slow down because he was dejected; how the man stopped in his track, waiting for him to catch up; and how he, surprised that the man slow down for him but didn't deign to talk to him, sprinted hastily to catch him up. It was repeated over and over. Three times at least by his count. So how could it not be maddening?

He needed help. Yes, help. But who? Clar was hugging the edge of his clothing tight, refusing to let go. Apprentice was walking a bit far behind, his eyes still downcast. Also, the green-haired elf was somehow still walked behind him. He stopped at least five times! The young elf was so depressed that he didn’t even do his ‘soil-swim’, just dragging his feet so deep it left indent almost like a wheel mark.

To be fair, there was a crowd of people behind them. Men and women in upper-end clothing; doublet and dresses; hoops, and bell-skirts. But they seemed intent on taking distance. One of the women was sneaking a glance at him like ten seconds ago, but the moment he caught it, she instantly averted her gaze.

So that was how it went for the next nine minutes. Torture of hung silence, dejected-slash-quarreling children, and muttered whispers of people who he didn’t know one bit. Which you knew, not great. Leaving him and the rest of the ‘party’ to walk in a conversationless hell — walking and walking as minutes passed by, as the wharf behind getting smaller, the glares of its mica-crested sands, dimmed. And as for the last one, well, it was not because there were some magical shades installed. Which would be, you knew, thematically consistent.

After that teleportation-illusion thing, he totally expected a grand illusion that weft specifically to avoid the scorching sun. However this time, the cooling shades were a result of something a bit more ...mundane. Foliages. Yes, foliages. Trees, bushes, and trimmed garden grass that were getting ever thicker as they walked up toward the island center.

Some of the leaves and branches sometimes ever so slightly cross the unmarked line between the greenery and the pathway. Like the fern-like leaves that blocking a bit of his left shoulder right now. He summarily parted them, holding it for a bit until Clar passed by. Well, if the man didn’t want a conversation... he at least could still enjoy the scenery, After all this still a part of the park. Park’s day! Time for fun and relaxation even if his last half hour was a bit blemished with a rather deadly intermission. Especially if his last half-hour had been blemished with a rather deadly intermission.

For example, this pathway they were walking on, unlike main street Ar’endal which had river stones as its base, was comprised of fully crushed earth. Fines and white with red-black dots on every tenth like a good terrazzo.

You knew, good beautiful stuff! Fun!

Haaah...

[https://i.ibb.co/kHLk3wt/Line-Break.png]

“We arrived.” the man said, tilting his body halfway. His hand angling in the way that pointing to the oversized door in front of him.

“Umm...Thank you…?” Euca answered, still not sure. Should he enter or—

“—Please enter.”

“Right…” he entered the doorway. “So, Mr. Muni” —he said trying to salvage the last possible chance of having a decent conversation as they walked past the long, well-lit hallway— “I’m really thankful that you were willing to hold Clar here. Light knew she could be a bit too ...energetic. I don’t believe my heart could take what would happen if she really ran toward that—that thing.”

“Who?”

“Clar…?” he blinked, looking-pointing toward the girl who yes, still existing, clinging to his shirt. “My sister?”

“Hmm.” the man stopped, tilting his head. Giving Clar a long look. “Oh.”

“Again, I’m very thankful…”

“Not me.” he shook his head. “Ap did it.”

“Y—yes, of course, Apprentice.” he managed to maintain a smile. “But of course I couldn’t possibly discount your role—”

“No. Ap did it by himself.”

“Ah…”

“Please enter.”

“...okay.”

What the hell? Come on. He was trying here. But the man was so — so blase. Now he was 90% sure that the problem wasn’t with him. No. That impossible. The problem was with the man. With the ‘Mr. Muni’. The moment he arrived at the room, he was shown to his chair and that was it. The only speck of conversation was this one moment when he was offered a plate of kelat that went like this.

“Food?” the man asked, tilting his head. Again.

“N—no, thank you.” he smiled, almost blooming due to which in hindsight desperation-induced expectation. “I already ate a while ago.”

“Okay.” the man nodded before walking toward the back door, leaving him and Clar alone.

Yeah. At this point, if he could put a knife to his knee without any consequence, he would. Like bam. Done. Stabby-stabby you deserved stabby-stabby. He meant what the hell was that? He was not the one who was the host! It was not he could — oh forget it. The man must be on the spectrum or something. Sigh. Whatever.

What kind of building was this anyway? Hmm… from his chair — one of the many that had been lined in rows and columns of tens to the side and tens to the back, he could surmise that this building seemed to be an assembly hall of ...something. Perhaps some kind of auditorium? Well, not exactly, he meant there were those white-clothed tables. Each was hosting series of plants and flowers — red sapling, blue dandelion, vines, a literal tree, three that were bonsai-like, some kind of terrarium? Well, he had no clue. Besides few he had on his home and had dutifully appraised, most he hadn’t seen before. Perhaps it was some kind of exhibition. Convention. The indoor version of the outside. Could be. In fact, on the front, there were few coffee tables filled with refreshments — jugs of standard Ar’endalian style meil that somehow still piping hot and kelat plates served in ala cartes to support that bit of postulate. He didn’t quite like the latter though, the oven-dried koshi was basically a bland cracker.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Sigh. He rather went home at this point, the excitement for the day was already quite ...sufficient. Though it’d be you knew, great if someone could corroborate whether the sprites were right that he and Clar needed to wait until sunset. To his surprise, he didn’t need to wait that long, the second the man closed the door behind him. Two men, one blonde, one shorter were walking toward him and Clar.

[https://i.ibb.co/kHLk3wt/Line-Break.png]

“Ha! Told ya. More than two wicks. Pay up!”

“I—I never agree to this barbarism, Ivar. Betting in a good man’s fate. How shameful…”

“Huh, that’s odd.” The blonde-haired man slung his arm to the shorter man’s shoulder. ”You didn’t complain when you won last moon. Besides,” —the blonde man paused— “unlike you who’d just spend it on another ‘reading’, I’d be donating my winning to our dear guest here.”

“Supplication is appreciation!” the shorter man glared at his counterpart. The latter simply responded to his friend’s outburst with an eye roll which seemed to be effective because after a split second of silence, the latter relented, producing a brown leather pouch. “Fine… Take it you brute.”

“Haha!”

“Ah, hello…” Euca said. Deciding that it was a good time if any to interrupt them. After all both of them seemed to want to talk to him. “Can I help you?”

“Hey. Euca right? Hear your sister is Apie’s friend?”

“Apprentice, Ivar!” the shorter man exclaimed before he could even nod. “Even if the [Gardeners] refused to take names it doesn’t mean you could just mangle their titles! It’s sacred!”

“Whatever, Apie is better.”

“Why you—”

“—also, doesn’t Muni calls the boy Ap?”

“When you’re his caretaker himself, you could call the second apprentice however you want!”

“Umm ...excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt but—”

“—oh right! Welcome to the viewing, man. The most fancy-schmancy place to be in all Ar’endal. Today we’re having Mar… Marfi! Yeah, we’re having Marfi for display!” he pointed at the stage upfront where an arch was on a stage. The white wood platform seemed to be the support for the Marfi thing. Which from the plants and flowers all around the room, he surmised must be the vines that wrapped around the arch. The Marfi’s curving dark brown branches were wrapped in periodical green leaves, perfectly three centimeters apart. Few buds of oranges and white flowers began to sprout from the end of each branch. Huh, that looked quite good. Perhaps he could plant that on the mansion’s platform. Bringing the gate’s rusticness to another level.

“It’s Marsi-Grassi, Ivar... Wasn’t Marta told you already? Weren’t you listening?” the shorter arced his eyebrow as the taller man who apparently didn’t appreciate this viewing as much as his friend, lifted his shoulder blade, grinning. “ Of course. Of course, you didn’t. What in her light ever grace I even thought you would— never mind then. Should your mother ask me, I’d say, I tried. You’re on your own, ‘bud’.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Tobi!”

“Hello, Mr. Euca right?” said the black-haired man, ignoring his panicking friend. He took a step forward, pressing his right hand to his left clavicle and bowing his head ever so slightly. “Welcome to the flower viewing. I must apologize if your welcome was rather ...sparse. Currently, we’re in the preparatory phase before the sunburst’s fair. Surely you understand.”

“Of course.” he nodded, returning the welcome gesture. “Mr—”

“—Tobias. Tobias Thanem. The [Civil Administrator] here at the Jewel. And my ...friend here is Ivar Harstead. Which despite his own lack of propriety came from the illustrious Harstead family.” Tobias sighed, rubbing his temples. “His more welcomed brothers are our noted [Adventurer-Naturalists], bringing us rare specimens from all around Capeo, sometimes even from borders of the damned south.”

“Tch. What’s so great about prancing to unknown forest anyway? Isn’t exploring is all about money? There’s a dungeon down the street for that! Why should I go to some unknown graveyard so just the snooty here could have something to talk about when they munched their kelat?”

“…Ivar had taken the opinion of his family’s side branch. Most unfortunate.”

“Bah. Looks Euca, you look like a sane man. Tell me, what’s good about flowers anyway? Well, they sometimes look pretty I guess. But that’s about it right? Searching for treasures is what a man should aim for! Not collecting weird leaves with equally weird pollen!”

“Umm…” he paused, unsure to answer that without offending one of them. He didn’t have to though, because a beat later, Tobias, obviously indignant was answering the question for him.

“Surely you understand my burden, Mr. Euca. Obliged to carry this oaf all around…”

“Bah! Don’t talk big Mr. [Temporal Civil Administrator].”

“T—Take that back! Sir Selen said I just need two — no one and a half calendar experience before I could be properly appointed! Not like certain people who failed his A-rank advancement.” the man said, brandishing his quill to the offending party mouth

“Oh, so you want to play that game, eh.” the latter cracked his knuckle.

Euca sweated. There was no way he going to let a third fight broke in his watch. “Ehm, Mr. Ivar, Mr. Tobias, If I seem to intrude—”

“No, no.” the black-haired man heaved, glared, and shook his head twice. “I — We lost our composure,” he said, emphasizing the ‘we’ to his friend who mouthed-shouted the word ‘boring’. His eyes twitching, Tobias swallowed another sigh before continuing. “This should be your welcome, Mr. Euca. Even if your admission is a bit unorthodox.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Tobias.” he smiled. A genuine duchenne this time. “So if I may ask... what is this place?”

“Ah? You don’t know, Mr. Euca?”

“...err. I just came here three moons ago. I’m an ...out towner.”

“Understandable then. Surely you have heard of the Adventurers’ Guild right?”

“Yes, of course. I visited it the other day.”

“Splendid, then you should already know that we are a dungeon town.”

He nodded.

“Then as you must already know, defending a dungeon town was all the matter of the living race. In fact, this building here — the Jewel, was created by the first settlers themselves as a hub for maintaining the mortal and the spirit’s relation. A bastion.”

“Every three calendars, we hold a [Convenant Renewal] on the sunburst. So as you can see, it’s quite hectic now. Lots of preparation needs to be done, plants to maintain for displays.”

“I see…”

“Yes, quite. Which is why we held a flower viewing every week or so. Our spirit friends love plants. They purified air and brought to us lives, or so they claimed. I mean whether that is true, I could not say.” he shrugged. “Not even the grand magis on the collegium had perfect answer to that. But of course all of us must know, that standing in the forest is more refreshing than standing in the middle of the street. So few of us who sensible enough…” —he glared at Ivar— “took it upon themselves to appreciate what our friends here love.”

“I see.” he nodded, digesting the revelation. So the spirits were as old if not older than the town itself. No wonder people here seemed to maintain a distance from him when he talked to Mr. Muni. The man must be a VVIP to be appointed as a caretaker. What a town…. First the dungeon, then this. He ruffled Clar’s hair, straightening the curling stray that could be straightened. The girl was nibbling on the leftover sourdough bread wrapped in a handkerchief he gave to her while walking a bit ago. Besides that outburst at the wharf, she hadn’t been saying anything till now. At first, he was worried, after all she was in a fight with her first friend. But after few passing moment, he realized that he was tugged. Yeah. tugged. It wasn’t much, but every second or so, the girl siphoned a trickle of mana from him, repairing herself from that scuff earlier. A bit of scar on her palm had turned pinkish, almost healed. So perhaps this silence was as physiological as much as psychological? He wished he knew, but it wasn’t like he was one of those lore-enthusiasts who read every single of the [Chronicle]’s backstory.

“Pardon me if this sounds a bit rude, Mr. Tobias, Mr. Ivar,” he said, deciding to postpone the matter later. “But could you tell me when the park should be safe again? I hate to impose but Clar’s ...governess still waiting for us on the park.”

“Ah…” the shorter man looked to the blonde man before the latter shook his head. Not a good sign. “I’m afraid I don’t have the answer Mr. Euca, the great earth spirit anger was not something that could easily be mollified. However…”

“Sunset.” the blonde man chimed, folding his hand, looking toward the door — the direction of the clearing. “At most, it would end at sunset. More than that the fair would be delayed.” the black-haired man nodded, affirming what the man just said.

“I understand.” same as what the sister spirit said, then. Where is she by the way? He hadn’t seen her or her brother since he disembarked from the ship.

“Don’t worry too much, man. Tobi here” —he patted the black-haired man back— “already confirmed that the senior guards had been dispatched!“

“Yes.” the black-haired man nodded. Frowning from the pat but smiling still. “Sir Aruci is with them, I heard.”

“Really, Tob? Sir Aruci?”

“Yes. He was at the Lakeside Rest when it happened.”

“Damn, what a waste…”

“It’s not like you could go there right now, Ivar.”

“Yeah, I know. But damn…”

“Uh-huh — Anyway, Mr. Euca, I know you are currently tending your sister, but if I could ask you a few questions…”

“Oh?” he blinked. “Sure...”

“It’s for the report.” the man sat beside him. Pulling up quills and papers. “Sir Muni said that you had activated the Crystal Voyage?”

“The what now?”

“The Crystal Voyage. The ship you came in.”

“Ah, yes…”

“Could you tell me how do you exactly activate the ship?”

“Well, I…” he paused. Should he tell the truth? Well, maybe the truth but not the entire truth. Like his mana-water, he should at least omit that. “ —accidentally activated the steering wheel. Then two spirits came out and said I could cross if I was related to some of the gardeners. Which I am. Sort of. I mean Clar and Apprentice were playing a lot like two bells before, you know, ...the incident.”

“...Thank you.” the man replied, pausing for a bit. Perhaps realizing he was not entirely truthful.

“Also, do you know what exactly happened back there? We have reports here, but they are incomplete. For example, all those who managed to escape said it was caused by a riot. Is that true?”

“Yeah, kind of…” he trailed. Recounting what he saw. How the two men insulting each other, the resulting fight, and how the angered crowd starts to burn buildings. He didn’t say he was using [Invisibility] of course. Just how the entire thing turned ugly and how he immediately went for the ship.

“Light, it shouldn’t even happen, I thought the contractor had...” the man nodded gravely. His hand was rapidly jotting what he had said while muttering so fast it became incessant. “Right, who was it that you said arranging for both of the men to work together — yes?”

“What? Are you sure??” Tobias turned left side. His face slacked. He stared at the white-clothed man who just came and whispered something to his ears for five long seconds.

The white-clothed man nodded.

“Euca…” Tobias said, turning his head back to him.

“Yes?”

“T—The grand elder wishes to see you.”