> “Then you have to choose to move with it. Lydia and I might be content working here, but we don’t have the same potential you do. Don’t let that go to waste. There’s a whole world out there waiting for you, and it’s not just about Weshaven. It’s about becoming who you’re meant to be.”
The bell above the apothecary door jingled as Eddie flipped the sign to Closed. The scent of dried herbs and tinctures still lingered in his nose, even as he stepped into the salty air of Weshaven’s harbour.
“Finally,” Markus grumbled, stretching his arms like a cat that had just woken up from a nap, as he strolled along. “I thought old Madam Cray was never going to stop asking about her arthritis salve.”
Eddie smirked. “You’re the one who told her it’d work in two days. Now she’s counting the hours.”
Markus groaned but laughed as they walked along the cobblestones. Weshaven's harbour extended ahead. The sea becomes a shade of orange and purple as daylight fades. Wooden piers creaked as fisherman unloaded their late-day catch. There was a strong smell of brine and gutted fish.
“Oi, Edward! Markus!” A grizzled fisherman with a thick grey beard raised a hand in greeting, his patched coat flapping in the breeze. “That balm you sold me last week did wonders. My shoulder’s good as new!”
“Glad to hear it, Norrick,” Eddie called back, offering a polite nod.
“Keep it up, lads! Don’t let Weshaven fall apart without ye!” Norrick bellowed with a hearty laugh.
The Swordfish Pub came into view, its wooden sign swaying gently, intricately carved to resemble the very creature it was named after. The soft, golden glow that poured from its windows offered a comforting reprieve from the encroaching chill of the evening air. The sound of laughter and the gentle clink of mugs floated into the air as a kind soul held the door ajar for a departing patron.
“Come on,” Markus said, his grin widening. “Let’s grab a spot before it’s packed to the brim.”
The instant Eddie pushed open the creaky wooden door, bustle of chatter boomed at him. The air buzzed with the heady mix of salt, fish stew, and ale, each scent vying for attention like eager campers at a summer campfire. The faint smell of seawater clung to the fishermen’s clothes like a stubborn memory, refusing to let go.
The pub buzzed with boisterous laughter, booming voices trading stories of the day’s haul. Heavy boots scraped against the floorboards, the sound echoing like a warning bell as chairs were pushed back with a clatter. Tankards thudded against the tables, echoing like a battle cry in the midst of a lively gathering. Eddie and Markus pushed, their eyes darting around the bustling room, navigating through the chaos that surrounded them.
“Looks packed tonight,” Eddie muttered, sidestepping a hefty man who gestured wildly in the midst of an animated chat.
“Packed means the fishermen had a good haul,” Markus replied, his eyes already scanning for the bartender.
The fishermen had the kind of rugged appearance that suggested they could wrestle a kraken and still have time for a beer. Faces etched by the relentless ocean breeze and blazing sun, hands toughened from countless days of pulling in nets. Their laughter echoed like thunder, and their gestures were as grand as a hero's tale. Eddie felt like a fish out of water in his corduroy trousers and wool field jacket, as if he had accidentally wandered into the wrong story altogether. His wild silver hair practically shouted for attention amidst the sea of darker shades in the room.
“Pardon us,” Markus said with a grin as they navigated the labyrinth of chairs and tables. He sidestepped a fisherman animatedly bragging about the time a shark had “almost taken his arm off.”
As they passed, a few familiar faces nodded their way.
At long last, they stumbled into the bar, where the barman awaited with a knowing grin. A burly fellow sporting a bushy moustache and a towel draped casually over his shoulder was busy pouring a foamy pint of ale. His keen gaze darted in their direction.
“Evenin’ Edward. Markus. You’re late tonight,” the bartender said, setting the tankard down in front of a waiting patron.
“Blame Madam Cray,” Markus said, leaning on the counter. “She had questions. Lots of them.”
The bartender chuckled. “You can’t blame ‘er, sonny. She had it rough. What’ll it be tonight?”
“Venison stew and a cider for me,” Eddie said.
“Make that two stews and a beer,” Markus added.
The bartender gave a nod, already reaching for a couple of mugs. Markus turned to Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder. “Not a bad way to end a day, eh?”
Eddie allowed himself a small smile, the warmth of the pub and the familiarity of the moment slowly easing the weight he carried.
Eddie stirred his fish stew with a distracted air, the wooden spoon clattering against the ceramic bowl like it was trying to escape the chaos of his thoughts. He barely grazed the meal, the inviting scent of herbs and fresh fish failing to ignite any hunger within him. Across from him, Markus was halfway through his second beer, lounging in his chair like someone who had no burdens to carry.
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“Alright, out with it,” Markus said finally, setting his mug down with a soft thud. “You’ve been poking at that stew for ten minutes like it wronged you. What’s on your mind?”
Eddie shook his head lightly, offering a dismissive shrug. “It’s nothing. Just... tired, I guess.” He stirred his stew again, still avoiding Markus’s gaze.
Markus wasn’t having it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Come on, Eddie. I know you. When you’re tired, you devour food like it’s your last meal!”
“Fine,” Eddie sighed, finally giving in. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the amber liquid swirling in his cider. “It’s about the bird again,” he grumbled, his voice almost lost in the raucous din of the pub.
Markus nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression calm but curious. “The Blue Songbird, right? I thought you said your dad let it go this morning. What’s eating at you now?”
Eddie continued. “Look, It’s not just that he let it go. It’s how he did it—like it was no big deal. That bird meant everything to him, Markus. He spent years raising it, making sure it could fly perfectly, singing those damn songs that he loved so much. And then, out of nowhere, he just decides it’s time for it to be free?”
Markus scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowing in thought. “Well, you know your dad. He’s always got some... unconventional ideas about life.”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Eddie continued. “What do you think he is trying to say, Markus?”
Markus straightened, eating a spoonful of his fish stew. He turned to face Eddie, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I think I might have an idea, but don’t quote me on it,” he said with a thoughtful expression.
“Maybe,” Markus said, leaning closer, “It’s his way of telling you that you need to get out of your comfort zone.”
Eddie furrowed his brow. “Get out of my comfort zone?” He let out a dry laugh. “I did that already, didn’t I? I’m there at the store, aren’t I? In the brewing room? If I hadn’t, I’d still be upstairs in my room.”
Markus raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, you’re here, but…” He gestured vaguely around the pub. “Are you really here, Ed? I mean, physically, you’re down at the store helping out. But mentally? Emotionally? You’re still up there in your room, hiding away. Your dad’s probably just trying to nudge you out into the world again.”
Eddie sighed, leaning against the table and folding his arms. “But I am doing things, Markus. I’m working in the shop, helping out with potions and ingredients, talking to people like I’m supposed to. What more am I supposed to do?”
Markus shrugged, a small smile forming on his lips. “I don’t know, man. But your dad’s never been one to settle for half-measures, you know? It’s like Lydia said earlier—he’s more interested in what you’re becoming than in what you’re doing right now. Maybe he sees something in you that you’re not seeing yet.”
Eddie was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the worn grain of the wooden counter. Behind the bar, rows of gleaming bottles stood neatly stacked, their amber and emerald hues catching the dim light of the pub. The words echoed in his mind: What you’re becoming. He didn’t know if he even wanted to become anything anymore.
“Yeah, you’re here with us,” Markus said, breaking the silence, “But I think he wants you to push yourself. He sees something in you. Among the three of us, you’ve got the talent to measure up to Mr Welton’s standards.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “What do you mean? My brother Alfred can brew potions like it’s second nature. He’s older and way more experienced.”
“Exactly,” Markus said, his tone earnest. “But Mr. Welton doesn’t even allow your brother Alfred to work on his personal workstation.” You are. And yet you’re here, learning at his side. That says something.”
Eddie shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Markus’s words settling in. “But I only got this chance because I’m his son, you know?” he insisted, trying to deflect the praise. “That’s all there is to it.”
“That’s not what I mean, Ed.” Markus’s voice was firm now, cutting through Eddie’s doubts. “Sure, you’re his son, but you’ve also got something he sees in you that he didn’t see in Alfred. That’s why he’s willing to take the risk of having you as his assistant. He believes you could be great if you let yourself be.”
Eddie stared at the shelf of ingredients, feeling a mix of embarrassment and confusion. He knew deep down that Markus was right. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was simply riding on his father’s coattails. “I just don’t feel like I deserve this chance,” he murmured.
“Look, come on,” Markus began, his tone earnest. “Your dad isn’t just anybody. He’s a well-known potion master in Weshaven. If he’s letting you work on his medicines, that means he sees potential in you—more than you realise. And in my opinion? You could do so much more than just sit there and help out.”
“I don’t know about that,” Eddie said, trying to downplay it. “I mean, I’m just—”
“Just what?” Markus interrupted, his voice sharp, cutting through the clamor of the pub. “Just the son of Mr. Welton? That’s not enough, Eddie. You were a brilliant Alchemist, one of the best back at Aella Academy. You had talent—real talent—that people like me could only dream of. And what did you do with it?”
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he pointed a finger at Eddie. “You threw it away. You let yourself get expelled like it was nothing. Do you know how disrespectful that is? To someone like me, who’s got no knack for magic? You had everything—talent, ambition, opportunity. And you wasted it.”
Markus leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief, his frustration written all over his face. “You have no idea how much I’d give to have even a fraction of what you’ve been handed, Eddie. And here you are, acting like it doesn’t even matter.”
Eddie blinked, the weight of Markus’s words hitting him like a blow. “Jealous? You’re joking, right?” His voice was unsteady, caught between disbelief and confusion.
Markus didn’t laugh. Instead, he let out a sigh and scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah, jealous,” he admitted, his tone quieter now but no less firm. “Back at Aella, you made everything look so easy. While I was struggling just to keep up, you’d already mastered it. I thought you’d go places, Eddie. Big places.”
Eddie stared at him, trying to reconcile this vulnerability with the Markus he thought he knew. “Markus, I didn’t...” He trailed off, unsure what to say, his chest tightening.
“But now?” Markus continued, his eyes meeting Eddie’s with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably on his stool. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. You have this rare talent, Ed, and you’re just sitting on it. Letting it slip through your fingers like it doesn’t matter. You can’t waste this, not when so many of us would kill for a shot at what you have.”
Eddie shifted sighed, the weight of Markus’s words settling in. “Look, things, had changed Markus.”
“Then you have to choose to move with it.” Markus said, “Lydia and I might be content working here, but we don’t have the same potential you do. Don’t let that go to waste. There’s a whole world out there waiting for you, and it’s not just about Weshaven. It’s about becoming who you’re meant to be.”