It had been was the end of the fourth day after everything had gone to hell.

The events of that night were still a bit of a blur to me.

As best as I could remember, I'd come back to myself.

When the vortex within had settled and the one from beyond had stilled, something had risen up.

Something from the memories, an entire concept that hit me like a trader's wagon.

I had been doing magic wrong.

Not wrong, exactly.

But I had been missing a rather large part of one of the most basic and fundamental things, something that any wizard, mage, witch or whatever else, already knew.

Something they probably knew without having to ask about.

It was actually the vortex within and the maelstrom of magic that had been around me that had triggered the rise of the memory, or so I'd guessed.

The understanding of what had been happening which changed the way I had previously viewed the few pieces of magic I had done so far.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone had that small well of power within them.

Just the same as I had, that place where the power came from.

Some of them even had the ability to use it, to shape it and perform small acts of magic.

What made the potential for a true power house, a potential master of magic, was the ability to see and harness the magic that was all around.

The wild forces that covered the world, when compared to the small well inside, was like comparing a grain of sand to a mountain.

No, a grain of sand to all mountains.

It wasn't that someone with the ability to see and use this force suddenly had the power of a god.

It was actually mostly useless, at first.

The well within was what you could hold, it was what you could use and once used, you could pull in just as much back into yourself from the world around you.

Only, every time you pulled what was wild, from beyond, into yourself, you pulled just a little bit more each time.

Your well within didn't change in size, if it could be said to actually have a physical size.

Instead, you filled it more.

It became denser, the colours of raw and primordial magic became compressed.

You well of power darkened, hardened, it became more just as it enabled you to do more.

My own pale well, for example could throw out a powerful gale at it's most extreme use, just like I had done to leave the mountain.

It was a use that had left me dizzy and feeling sick afterwards.

If I flexed my well of power, if I pulled back in, over and over again until my well of power eventually darkened in shade.

Then that same gale, that same expenditure of power from within myself would cause my well to pale once more as the power rushed out, but not empty completely...

It was like a muscle almost, something I needed to use over and over again until what had once been a monumental struggle, became a simple flick of the wrist.

I couldn't just keep pulling in magic, I needed to pull it in, fill myself and expend the power until I could pull once more.

Only then would I grow in power, if only very very slowly.

It was a personal revelation for me.

It made so much sense and yet was totally alien to me.

It was something I had known and not known, until I knew it.

Not for the first time, I had cursed the vortex.

The other revelations of that day came from outside though.

I had sat dumbly in the room and I guessed Holt had thought me to no longer be a danger because on Sal's insistence, Holt had left and spoken with the three ladies down in the common room.

As it turned out, Miller had approached them.

Using his position as a guardsman, he had lied to them to get information about me.

He had told them of his 'investigation into a suspicious situation', that being me.

His 'investigation' was of course of the utmost importance and it was imperative that secrecy be maintained.

And so the three ladies had told Miller everything they had noticed about me.

From each time they saw me, mostly going in and out of the common room, what I had eaten, what kinds of things I returned with or at least whether it was something large or small.

Granted the large amounts of different things I had hauled back up to my room could possibly been seen as suspicious if there had been anything other than just ordinary supplies in them, but the ladies had been quick to tell anything they could about it.

Holt had been quietly furious.

Not at me, though certainly he hadn't pleased with me.

No, he had been furious with Miller.

For his betrayal of the guardsman's name and for his savage attack on me.

Even though I had used magic on Miller, it didn't change the fact that Miller had come with ill intentions and savagely tried to beat, what he had thought no more than a boy, to death.

Holt had explained these things to me as I'd eventually began moving again, the new idea being something in the very forefront of my mind, and set about trying to clan up the mess in the room only half listening to him.

A room that it turned out, I was no longer welcome in.

I'd been asked, politely but firmly to leave.

While searching through everything had been relieved to see that the many fist sized packs of different seeds were mostly undamaged.

I only found one seed packs that had been torn open.

Even most of the small jars and pots of herbs and spices that had been in that second chest, had been mostly fine, with only a few having some small cracks.

The leather bound books also from that chest had, of course, been fine.

Though as they had mostly taken up the left side of the seed chest their bulk had shifted onto everything else in the chest, they had probably been what had cracked the few jars and pots.

I'd spent a while repacking them back into their original places and by then Captain Holt had begun helping me as told me what he had learned.

We'd lifted the heavy chest back onto the one remaining chest that had been left untouched and I'd moved onto the final chest, once sorted, back on top of that.

I'd ended up being allowed to leave my belongings in the room for a short time while Holt and Sal had taken me to the guard house.

There had been no sign of Miller in the common room when we had gone down but Glenn, the quiet man who could heal had been there.

He hadn't spoken but silently healed my face, then we had left.

I hadn't asked about Miller, or is face but the look in Glenn's eye told me that he hadn't been able to fully heal him.

I'd recounted events to Holt as best I could remember them, he'd told me that while my actions had been extreme, it was apparent that they had been to protect myself.

I think the fact that I'd lost control because of the savage attack, rather than deliberately setting out to harm, had been a major factor in why I had not ended up locked away in a cell.

By the end of that, my second interrogation, Holt had almost been talking with me as if were were just two people having a conversation.

I'd left with a place I might be able to find a mule, a new inn to find that I some how had to move my chests to and the unsettling feeling that whatever punishment Miller received wouldn't be the end of things.

Holt had actual begun to tell me what would happen to Miller but I had stopped him, I didn't want to know.

It wasn't that the idea of him being punished somehow disturbed me, it didn't.

It was because every time I'd thought of Miller, that monster in my chest started to rise and I could feel anger taking over me.

My hands would clench into fists to stop them from shaking.

I managed to find a new inn, the one I currently resided in.

While the food wasn't as good here it was very clean and slightly cheaper.

I had Jared's wife to thank for a lot of things.

She had taken pity on me and had her two sons help me move my chests to my new inn, I'd tried to pay them for their services but the older of them had scowled at me and stormed off, followed by the younger brother.

What I should have been truly thankful to her for though was that it had been her who sent for Captain Holt.

She had been the one to realise that I had mouthed 'get Holt' as Miller had led me upstairs.

She had actually been rather understanding and even tried to get Jared to let me stay but he had been surprisingly firm in his resolve and so I had left.

I couldn't blame the innkeeper, even if I truly didn't wish to leave.

I'd brought trouble to his inn, albeit without meaning to and had caused damage to the door, once again inadvertently.

I had of course tried to pay him for the damage but he had refused my coin, as if taking it would be just one step away from letting me continue to stay there.

I'd given up trying once Captain Holt had told that Miller would be responsible for any damages.

So I had left feeling slightly disappointed by many things.

I had stayed in my new inn almost the entire time since that night, the only time I had left had been earlier today.

I had a mule now, it was in the stables of the inn.

The man who Holt had told me about turned out to be related to the captain, by marriage anyway. The man's wife was Holt's cousin.

I'd gotten my mule and gone back to hiding away in my room.

I admitted to myself that that is what I was doing.

Hiding away.

I knew I couldn't keep this up but I was nervous about going around town even more now.

I doubted that I would see Miller just strolling through the streets but word had no doubt gotten out about what had happened to him.

Maybe not anything specific but I'd noticed yesterday a change in the inn's staff when dealing with me, they had become extremely respectful and just as obviously, it was out of fear.

All it took was the rumour of 'magic' and using it to have apparently nearly killed a guardsman.

With a sigh, I snuffed the candle on the bedside table out, and rolled over to sleep.

I was determined to face tomorrow with a better attitude, no more hiding.

***********

My resolve had already given way slightly as I walked down the street in that, I'd not stayed in the common room for breakfast but rather headed straight out.

It wasn't that I was afraid to eat there but the nervousness of the staff had been a bit too much, I'd decided to find my breakfast else where rather than sitting through forced smiles.

I didn't really know where I could get something to eat but I'd quickly learned of a way to find a place, I simply followed my nose.

The smell of freshly baked bread was something that stood out at this time in the morning and soon enough I found myself entering a bakery of sorts.

No one stared at me, no one looked away or whispered anything to their companions and I began to feel a little foolish about hiding myself away.

Not two minutes later I was back on the streets of Moreland's Rest, fanning my open mouth as the meat filled pastry burned me slightly.

Without really meaning to, I realised that I was heading towards the outskirts of the town and in the direction of Marley & Hill's.

My steps became a little surer as I had a direction firmly in mind now, with only a few more slight pauses to fan my mouth I walked into the front of the large work yard and then into the small building that served as an office.

Behind the desk was another man this time and it caught me a little off guard, I'd been expecting Marley but maybe this was Hill?

He was older than Marley but had the same kinds of work clothes on rather than any finery.

He was only a little taller than I was judging by how he sat which meant he was on the shorter side for a full grown man.

What he might have lacked in height was made up for by the clear muscle that build upon the man, even more impressive considering his age.

He looked up at my entrance and spoke before I could.

“You need something, lad?” His tone was gruff but not aggressive.

“I-uh. I'm here to see how my commission is coming along.” I said after a little hesitation.

He frowned slightly at my words.

“You've commissioned something?” He asked, seeming confused and he started to look through some papers on the desk. I realised that he was looking for so spoke up quickly.

“Yes, sir.” I said. “Marley didn't have me sign a contract though, I offered to pay him everything up front but he just said that he'd give me something to actually pay for first...” I finished a little lamely, wondering if I'd caused an issue by bring this up.

“Ah!” The man said. “That little travel carriage?” He asked but spoke on without an answer as I redundantly nodded a second later. “Yeah, Marl's working on it with one of the teams already. Shouldn't be too far off finishing up, I suppose you're here to have a look?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“If that's not too much trouble, sir.” I said at his words. “I didn't come here to get in the way, I just thought I'd come and see how far along it is...” I explained lamely.

Waving my words away then nodding towards the door I'd entered from.

“Go on, lad. Help yourself, you know the way right?” He asked me and when I nodded he continued. “Just don't touch anything and stay away from any of the men who're handling anything that looks heavy.”

“Thank you, sir.” I said and with that, I headed back out of the small office building and back out into the work yard. I turned and walked around the building, between some huge piles of covered lumber, making my way towards the warehouse.

There was an open bay door that was so large, it was pretty much a wall on wheels. Even before I could really see inside I could hear the sound of men hard at work.

Banging and scraping sounds, the sounds of saws and of course plenty of cursing.

Most of the cursing seemed to be good natured play between the workmen only the occasional exclamation of exertion interrupting it.

With a little hesitation and being sure to look around for anything that might get me hurt I entered the warehouse and got a good luck inside. From the tour I'd been given by Marley previously I knew the the general lay out.

The warehouse was divided into seven or possibly eight different sections. Most of the these were actual work areas, a place where the current project sat in and saw ringed by it's own set of equipment. It was essentially a serials of fully equipped but miniature workshops that each team with their specific project had access to.

Two of the other spaces appeared to be set aside for the processing or some other kind of work specific to raw materials.

One of stone and another that was mostly wood.

The last space, the one I had entered into appeared to be some kind of break area.

A few workmen sat around tables on stools and I noticed something I hadn't really paid attention to last time.

The furniture they were sitting on or using was very fine looking, as in the kind of thing you would see in a nobleman's house.

The workers seemed to have no regard for it though.

Even as I watched, one of the workmen used the end of the table to knock out his pipe and only half-heartedly brushed away the still smouldering contents off of the table.

Another workman caught my eye and spoke to me.

“You looking for someone, lad?” The man asked me, there was no hostility in his voice just a mild curiosity.

“I've got a small travel carriage being made, I thought I'd see how it was coming along.” I replied.

“Ah, the boss and his lads are on it.” The man told me and pointed to the other end of the warehouse. “Down the other end, does the other boss know you're here?”

“I think the man in the office was Hill?” I half said, half questioned. “He didn't actually introduce himself, just asked if I knew the way and make sure not to touch anything...”

“That's the other boss.” The man confirmed to me with a nod. “He's right though, don't touch anything, make sure you don't go near anything dangerous looking either.”

Looking me up and down he seemed to decide that I didn't look capable of not causing some kind of accident because he moved towards me as he spoke again.

“I'll take you down there.” He told me as he reached me, I offered a hand and he seemed a little bemused to take it, as did the watching workmen behind him who were watching the entire thing.

“I'm Al.” I told him.

“Jessep.” He introduced himself though I had no idea if that was his first name or his surname. “Come on then, lad.”

He walked off ahead of me, down the cleared path next to the this wall of the warehouse. It was the wall that all the other bay doors were on and led down the entire length of the warehouse.

Jessep nodded to the occasional worker who happened to look up from what they were doing as we walked by.

“Hows the fingers?” Jessep asked one man who was sawing a piece of wood. Jessep had a grin on his face when he asked this and I noticed a small bandage around one of the man's hands.

“Still got a few left.” The man said gruffly and Jessep laughed, I assumed the man had been joking... He had been joking right?

We reached the far end of the warehouse, the only other sections beyond were the ones that dealt with raw stone and lumber.

Then, surrounded by four men was the travel carriage I had commissioned.

It was small, as I knew it would be but it was easily big enough for all I needed.

As Marley had told me, the woods used would be of different kinds so it would be mixed in colour but I could see a man painting on a dark liquid that was obviously some kind of protective finishing.

He was half way along the side nearest me and the areas he had already painted looked only slightly different in colour, I could still see the clear difference in the as yet unfinished parts.

The finish definitely make a difference to the over all look, toning all the differences down into something that was hardly noticeable unless you looked hard.

The front of the carriage had a place where I assumed the seat would be, but currently it had only the framed supports and judging by their sheen they were freshly finished and drying.

A small backboard behind where the seat would be and as I got closer I could see into the bed part of the carriage, thick sturdy blanks made it up, also wet and drying.

There were several holes at even intervals on the sides of the bed, where I assumed I would need to tie down my chests, all in all it looked almost done.

“Almost done.” Marley said, confirming my thoughts as he appeared from around the other side and walking over to me.

“Mr Marley.” I said in greeting and he grinned a little. “Good morning.”

“Morning, son.” He said in reply. “Jessep offered to show you how to walk from one side of the workshop to the other I assume?” Marley asked with an amused raising of his eyebrow for Jessep who just grinned back at his boss, or rather one of his bosses.

“Well, can't have the client coming to harm here, can we?” Jessep answered him.

“Any excuse.” Marley accused good naturedly and Jessep winked.

Feeling my own lips curl a little at the obvious friendly jabs, Marley seemed much more relaxed than he had in the office, maybe it was because he was actually working rather than sitting behind a desk.

“Well, I suppose you can go back to work now can't you?” Marley asked.

Jessep opened his eyes in apparent shock.

“But sir!” He said loudly. “Our client still has to make his way back!”

Marley looked at me.

“Do you think you'll need help remembering how to walk in a straight line?” Marley asked me.

I don't know why I said it, maybe I just got caught up in their fun but I answered with a grin of my own.

“Straight? Is that the way with all the turns?” I asked and as Jessep burst out laughing I did my best not to seem shocked by my own words.

I had actually meant to tell him that I'd have no trouble finding my way back and to assuring him that I wouldn't touch anything.

“Looks like I'd better stick around, boss.” Jessep said and put an arm over my shoulders. “Clients come first after all.”

“Don't encourage him, son.” Marley told me with a straight face though his eyes were twinkling. It's hard enough to get him to show up in the morning, let alone actually do any work.”

Marley turned around and with a gesture, motioned to the almost completed travel carriage. “Come on then.” He said and he showed me what he and his workmen had built, explaining a few things and telling me about what was left to do.

Jessep, by sticking around also got the tour, which he and the other workmen from Marley's team seemed very amused about as he made interested sounds and thoughtful expressions.

Marley told me that most of this day would be spent leaving everything to dry and that tomorrow, they'd be fitting the seat and a few other small things.

That if I came tomorrow at the end of the work day then it would probably be finished, unless something went wrong.

I had asked Marley a few questions about how some of the pieces of wood had been joined together so neatly, he had explained to me about dovetail joints, finger joints and also about the use of a mortise and tenon.

I guess I asked one to many questions because he looked at me closely.

“You planning on becoming a joiner, son?” He asked me pointedly and I felt my face heat slightly.

“Ah, no sir.” I said. “It's just... I'm going to have to try make a few bits of furniture soon. I didn't mean to start pestering.” I explained lamely, feeling like an annoying child who kept asking 'why?'.

He raised an eyebrow at this.

“We do make furniture too, you know? It's not nearly as costly as this.” Marley said with a nod towards the travel carriage.

I shook my head slightly and explained further. “I'm not going to be here, sir. I'm going to be pretty far away from any towns or villages. I can't take any with me otherwise I'd buy them from you.” Just the thought of the many trips it would take already to get the contents of my chests up the mountain, then afterwards the chests themselves made me tired just thinking about it.

I deliberately didn't think about the idea of trying to pull a table up a mountain, unsure I would be able to hide the shudder.

“I saw how fine looking the tables were near the entrance but I'm going to make do with things I bit less fine.” I finished with a trace of amusement at myself.

Whatever, or rather if I managed to make something that wasn't just 'as yet unused firewood', there would be nothing fine about it.

“You ever built any furniture before?” Marley asked me with a huge but well justified dose of scepticism.

“No, sir.” I told him. “I bought a few tools from one of the blacksmiths. He told me they were what apprentices used so I thought they'd be good enough to at least make something to sit on.”

“Which blacksmith?” Marley asked me and both he and Jessep were looking at me intently now for some reason.

“Uh, Bill?” I answered.

Malrey nodded at this and Jessep whistled.

“Lucky.” Jessep said. “Bill knows his stuff, doesn't sell crap or gauge you with his prices. Harold though...” Jessep left of what he thought didn't need to be said.

The image of the sneering blacksmith whose shop I'd left without purchasing anything suddenly had a name.

“Harold.” Marley said and paused to choose his words. “Makes a lot of things very quickly, and not all of them are to a standard we find acceptable here.” Marley finished.

Jessep snorted.

“Better buying a butter knife with a new chisel, one of them might end up being sharp enough to use.” Jessep told me and a few of the workmen, still applying the finish with their brushes snorted quietly.

“So.” Marley said, clearly moving back to the previous topic. “You've got a few tools and you expect to figure out how to make some chairs and tables on your own?” He asked me.

“Well, not exactly.” I said. “I've got a book about furniture making but I haven't really read it yet, I should be able to make something useable at least. I'm not going to make anything fine looking, just something to sit on or put things on.”

Marley was both rolling his eyes and shaking his head then a gleam came into his eyes as he looked at Jessep.

“You busy today, son?” Marley asked me, still looking at Jessep and appeared to be trying to hold back a smirk.

“I, uh. No, not that I know of?” I admitted and at my words Marley grinned now and looked at me as Jessep sighed.

“How about you stick with your guide here.” Marley said with a nod towards Jessep. “He'll take you out into the yard to grab a few scraps and show you a thing or two.”

Jessep groaned now and the other workmen had stopped what they were doing to grin at Jessep. I could say that I took pity on Jessep.

I could say I thanked Marley for the kind offer but politely declined.

I could tell you that I let Jessep get on with his regular work without having him babysit me and show me what he probably considered the woodworking equivalent of learning how to count your fingers.

But all of those things would be a lie.

With a grin that matched Marley's, I put my arm over Jessep's shoulder the same way he had done to me, in that overly friendly manner and answered.

“That sounds great, Mr Marley. I don't actually have to do anything all day.”