Dozens of voices blurred in the background, dulling Ranvir’s ears. His Perception did its best to filter out the sweet scent of mead mixed with the violently sickening scent of mulled wine. Too sweet, yet too spicy, that all came together to make him slightly nauseous.

The taste of butter and potato lingered on his tongue, slicking his mouth with a slight sense of grease. The room was hot, feeling almost boiling against his skin. A rare gust of fresh chill air made it over to them, a slight relief of autumn cold. The seat was hard underneath him and the table slightly sticky.

Yet, the food was good and the company fine.

They were sitting in a relatively low-brow bar in a middle-class neighborhood of the capital. Their private booth provided enough protection from straying eyes that people weren’t looking at Ranvir’s strange appearance all the time.

Grevor spread his arms wide, heading towards the climactic end of a story about his brother and nephew. Ranvir smiled, familiar enough with the troubles of toddlers and children to know where it was headed.

“Baug had just about gotten him to sleep,” Grev said, leaning in. “Bjalki’s little head was tottering back and forth, wobbling on the edge of sleep. A light burble escaped him, the sounds of his dreams invading his waking mind.” Grev smiled and lifted a single finger. “Or so Baug thought. With a convulsive twitch of his stomach, Bjalki’s dinner emerged from both ends! Baug barely avoided taking it on the chin. Yet, he could not stop the exclamation. ‘Bjalki!’ he cried, the alarm waking his son from his near slumber. And then Baug knew he’d have to start all over again. And that’s how my brother learned to appreciate his wife.”

There were a few chuckles all around, a few exchanged glances, though mostly they were simply enjoying each others’ company. Though Sansir had been distant with Ranvir for the last couple days, he seemed to have relaxed over the last two hours.

“Boys,” Dovar said, putting a hand on the table. The booth curved around the table, providing as much sitting room as possible. Es, Sansir, and Grev sat mostly on one end, with Dovar- and Ranvir’s bulk taking up much of the remaining space. Though he was still regaining his muscles, there was little to be done about his overly broad shoulders. Ranvir’s wings also weren’t helped by seats with full back, forcing him to spread them awkwardly. “I was hoping to crack your minds over something.”

“Shoot,” Es said.

“I’ve been thinking about my family. The estate and such. Asny seems to be doing well, but she might want to return and see our house someday. I don’t want her to see that only a husk remains of what she once knew.” He pulled out a notepad. The corners were frayed, turning this way and that from use. “I was hoping to recruit your help to come up with some ideas.”

Sansir’s raised eyebrows and Esmund’s skeptical look mirrored much of Ranvir’s own feelings. A doubtful grayish blue meandering slowly about made Ranvir speak up. “Dovar, just to be certain. We’re not tradesmen. Es’ Dad literall-“

“Said that I wasn’t very good,” Esmund cut him off. His dad hadn’t quite used such pleasant words. Something closer to ‘utter ass,’ though Ranvir didn’t want to go ruining Es’ good reputation.

“I’m just meaning to say that we might not be much help,” Ranvir explained at Dovar’s worried glance.

“That’s fine,” Dovar said, a mix between relieved and worried. “Just that you’re willing to help means a lot.”

“Of course,” Sansir said, placing a hand on Dovar’s generous shoulders.

“So… Show us what you’re working with,” Grev said.

Dovar flipped open his notebook and started going through it with them. Almost every member of the school, including the students, had adopted paper from Korfyi. It was fine and durable enough to keep in a pocket or bag without worrying about tearing. Their pencils and pens didn’t bleed and break either, nor did they take up half the space slate and chalk did.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“That’s about it,” Dovar said self-deprecatingly, hiding a note of embarrassment.

“It’s not much,” Grev agreed, tracing lines of credit and gold with his finger. “But you could definitely work with this.”

Ranvir exchanged a glance with Sansir and Esmund. After his recent experiences with the school and its budget, he understood just how little it was. He still had trouble feeling it, however. Most of the families in Rime’s Shadow could’ve lived for a decent few years if they had that much money. On the scale of nobles and estates, it would run out quickly.

“Maybe you could get into…” Grev’s eyes narrowed. “Nah, you’d need to hire at least a few…” he tutted to himself, going over the papers again and again. “Do you have any connections that you might leverage for a better deal?”

Dovar hissed out a slow breath and shook his head. “No. My Dad did a pretty good job of distancing us from most of our business partners before he betrayed the country. Though, my mother’s garden. I don’t think he got to her contacts.”

“Good! Excellent!” Grev said, throwing his arms wide, nearly hitting Sansir and Esmund. “Start there. You’ve got anything botanical to sell?”

“My mother’s emberleaf should start blossoming soon. They don’t produce many fruits, but that should be the right time to harvest them.”

“Emberleaf fruit sell well. And it’s an old tree, so it should go for a bit more than average. But where to go from there…”

“Shouldn’t he just continue with the garden stuff?” Es asked, frowning at the paper.

Grev and Dovar pulled a face. “If you want to make money from that, you’re farming.”

The three country boys all leaned back in obvious realization. It would take too much effort and time to manage.

“Couldn’t he just get someone else to take care of it?” Es continued. “That is a lot of money.”

“It would be a waste,” Dovar admitted in a defeated tone. “I couldn’t recuperate the losses with the ground of my estate.”

They all tapped their nails on the table for a minute before Ranvir thought of something. “Are there any other fruits or flowers that sell especially well? Something that blooms in winter even?”

“Yeah, there’s the uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. “I can’t remember it right now, but there are a few that are quite sought after.”

“Midnight blossom,” Dovar said. Grev snapped his finger and pointed at Dovar.

“Couldn’t you gather a few of those rarer flowers and stuff? Things that sell for more than average. Make exotic fruits and stuff your thing?”

“You’d still need to pay for someone to work for him. A good gardener gets paid. Especially someone who knows how to take care of more exotic plants,” Grev said.

“And you’re inevitably going to lose a few to experimentation,” Dovar continued. “Sometimes these plants require specific conditions. I know the midnight blossom can’t be covered in snow, even though it blossom during winter.”

“So it’s a lot of work, but if you could get it working, there would be a lot of profit?” Sansir said. “Then take them to a different city, sell them there. So on and so on. Should be a decent profit.”

“Still doesn’t solve the gardener problem.” Grev pointed out.

“Just split the profits. Your mother knew a guy. If you can show him you can get your hands on exotic fruits and plants, then he can get the rest going, right?” Es said. “You gather the plants. He grows and sells them in the capital. You sell them elsewhere.”

Dovar exchanged a look with Grev. “Make a deal with a common-“ he cut off mid-sentence, realizing most of the men at the table were commoners. “But it could work.”

“You’d need a pretty fucking special garden.”

“Belnavir grows mana-plants pretty regularly,” Ranvir said.

“It’s worth taking a look.”

“Actually, I think I grow mana-plants.” That earned him a lot of vacant stares all around the booth.

“What’s… What does that mean, exactly?”

Ranvir tried to explain, but the more words he said, the stranger they looked at him. Finally, he just admitted defeat and claimed that he was lying. The others gave him even more suspicious looks, but they left it alone.

An hour later found Ranvir and Sansir outside, getting some fresh air, while Es and Grev were getting them another round. The chill night air was like a soothing balm and an energizing potion all at the same time.

They stood in silence, however, Sansir’s sullen attitude from before they entered the bar before returning.

“Are you okay?” Ranvir asked, finally.

Sansir narrowed his eyes at him, then turned to face Ranvir fully. “I’m not some person for you to fix, Ranvir.” His harsh voice bit at the night, cold green eyes staring daggers at Ranvir.

“That’s a no, then.”

Sansir’s brows twitched, his lips working before he turned away. “Let’s just go inside. They’ll have our drinks if we don’t get back soon.” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been just a moment before.

Ranvir didn’t smile, despite the pale white amusement tickling its way across his mind.