Lohmen waved a hand at the Nymph, Skull and Crown and admired the tome’s first entry. It was unlike his previous works, but being able to paint something different was a relief. Most importantly, it felt like a step closer to Thesdon.

The task was immense, and he knew it, but that didn’t matter. It was a chance to search, and he’d paint the Banners thrice if it meant finding his boy. Lohmen pushed the enigmatic scope of the task from his mind, letting hope and opportunity wash over him.

One final brush stroke to her long, flowing hair was all it needed. Profiled and looking dexter, the mythical nymph reigned impassively over the skull and crown below her.

When the paint was dry, he closed the book of Banners and set about reorganising his luggage. He stuffed as much as possible into the saddle bags to make room in his large rucksack for the weighty tome. Next, he tucked his smaller soft leather bag, the one with Thesdon’s masterpiece, into the larger bag. Finally, the pragmatic traveller scribbled a note into his cartography book, now a log of progress.

After lashing his saddlebags to the horse and throwing his pack over his shoulder, he led his new mount through the gates into town. Meandering along the wide streets of Kidkam, a jaunty Lohmen saw the village with fresh eyes. A wide-eyed man with a big pack would appear to anyone as an intrepid traveller but little did they know he was only a couple days’ ride from home. Though each building, person and smell were familiar, they were delightfully foreign to him.

Kidkam was a bustling town nestled at the end of an inlet, like Onlomum, but too remote and shallow to be a port. The briny water did have its benefits; Genesis Adventurers first discovered the region and found rich pockets of pearl containing mollusks in the Grasp Fjord. The iridescent treasures would have attracted more speculators were it not for the Kraken paralarvae.

Eventually, the bookbinder’s shop revealed itself, and Lohmen tied his horse outside. A small man looked up from his work and greeted Lohmen as he entered. A younger man of similar stature huddled over his work and paid no attention.

“Hello…” Lohmen started with an unsure, almost nervous tone to his voice. “Your sister recommended I come by your shop.”

The bookbinder removed his glasses and squinted at Lohmen, who plopped his hefty pack on the counter.

“You’re the illuminator!”

Lohmen looked around the empty shop and raised an eyebrow at the man. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“What’s that sister of mine up to these days? Let me guess. Secrets, cloaks and daggers? Ha!”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“I didn’t see the dagger, but yes, actually….” Lohmen started.

“Don’t pay her any mind. True, you need to keep the tome away from prying eyes, but you’re fine to speak freely among us bookbinders.”

Lohmen fiddled awkwardly with his ring. “Say, do you remember hearing about a boy from Umlom that went missing?”

Off to the side, the apprentice stopped working, and there was a silence before the Master Bookbinder spoke. “I did, yes, must have been what… four years ago?”

“It’s been five. Yes.” Lohmen pressed. “Do you remember anything?”

The bookbinder furrowed his brow and frowned. “No. I remember hearing of it, but…awful thing that. To lose a child.” He cupped his chin with his hand.

“Alright. Well, thank you, if you think of something or hear anything, please let me know.” Lohmen turned slightly but paused. “Your sister, Tomeeera, was it? Where was she going?”

“Only the Divine know. She’s always off on some mission or another. She’s an emissary of the bookbinders, helps organise things for fancy and powerful folk. I suppose delivering books might be dull if not for her imagination.” He laughed. “Do you need anything else?”

Tomeera’s promise rattled in Lohmen’s mind.

“How about some of those birch brushes and a jar of golden yellow.” Lohmen took out his lord purse and palmed a few coins.

“Ohh! I almost forgot!” The bookbinder said excitedly while grabbing a stool. “By the foxes… you’re to have all you need free of lords, and you’ve no way to identify yourself?” He chuckled as he climbed the stool and retrieved an item from behind a stack of books. “Tomeera, too busy for her own good.” He descended and presented the wrapped object. He pulled the burlap fabric away, revealing a cold, iron pin shaped like a palette. “Pin this on the shoulder of your hood, painter, and you’ll be looked after by any bookbinder you meet.”

“Thank you,” Lohmen said, admiring the detail of the miniature version of the tool he’d used earlier that day. “But I’m not a painter….”

“Well, your clothes betray you, my friend.” The apprentice turned to face Lohmen and placed six brushes on the counter. His boss placed the jar of golden yellow paint beside them while the apprentice gestured at Lohmen’s trousers. It was faint, but Lohmen recalled the first time they had this exchange.

“Yes…I guess they do. Don’t you work in Munum?”

“I do, but I’m an apprentice. My family runs all the binder shops in this corner of the Realms. This is my uncle’s, and it’s my father’s in Munum. I split time between all of them to learn the craft. It’ll be years before I shed that title, and decades before I’m a master bookbinder with a shop of my own. Until then, I’m in a new town every few days.” He offered much more detail than Lohmen had expected.

Lohmen nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall your name.”

“No worry. It’s Yerik. Before you leave town, you should stop at The Heavy Head. They’ve boarchops on the menu. I’ll join you in an hour when I’ve finished up here.”

The apprentice’s invitation was unexpected but he considered the suggestion. With the brushes and paint stored in his pack, he bid them farewell.

Just before shutting the door, Lohmen looked back. “Heavy Head, right?”