The next morning, William and John walk toward Mark's shop from the inn. Both of them look haggard, their eyes shadowed from a lack of proper sleep—a direct result of the heavy thoughts troubling their minds all through the night.
When they step inside, they find Mark already up, yawning heavily behind the front desk. ‘So, it looks like we aren't the only ones losing sleep’, William thinks.
On seeing them enter, Mark perks up to greet them. “Oh, come inside! I was waiting for you.” He gestures warmly toward the table. “Sit, sit. Let me get you some tea.” He disappears into the kitchen before either of them can even utter a word.
Two minutes later, Mark returns carrying three earthen cups filled with steaming liquid. He passes the cups to John and William, keeping the last one for himself as he pulls up a stool and sits down.
Thick, unspoken tension immediately fills the room. William stares down into his cup, his brow furrowing. ‘What is this black water?’ He looks up, watching John and Mark quietly sip from their cups while locking eyes with each other.
Mimicking them, William takes a small sip of his own. He instantly winces, suppressing a gag. ‘Blegh! It tastes like grass in hot water. Why would anyone willingly drink something this bitter?’
After a long, stretching silence, Mark lets out a heavy sigh and asks, “So, what is your decision?”
John pauses for a moment, deliberately setting his earthen cup down on the wooden table. “I agree.”
Mark slams his own cup down haphazardly, splashing a bit of the dark liquid. “That's great! Let me get my permits and we can head straight to city hall—”
“Wait a second,” John interrupts, his deep voice cutting through Mark's excitement. “Before we go anywhere else, I want to know about the apothecary down the street.”
Mark freezes in silence, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Why on earth do you want to know about that weird fellow?”
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John says, shifting his gaze over to William. “He offered William a job.” Mark turns his head to stare at William, who immediately shifts his gaze downward to study the floorboards.
“Well, that's something alright. I didn't know the man was capable of that,” Mark says, nodding slowly. “From what I hear, he already rejected multiple individuals for that exact job.”
Mark turns back to face John. “He's the guy I was talking about yesterday—the one whose permit application takes almost three months just to get accepted by city hall. Well, he's a decent fellow. A bit quirky, if you ask me, but still a good person. Oh, and he's really skilled, too. My cold clears up in just two days after taking his medicine.”
“If he offered him a job, I think the kid should take it,” Mark says, leaning back on his stool and contemplating the idea. “After all, there are not many decent jobs available for kids in this city.”
John nods slowly in agreement. He turns to William. “Kid, why don't you head back and rest at the inn while I go check out City Hall with Mark?”
Soon after, they leave the store and start walking together toward the inn.
“Are you going to talk to Aunt Gretchen about this?” William asks, looking up at him as they navigate the busy street.
John replies without breaking his stride, his eyes still looking straight ahead. “I also inquired about Trojjan with the folks at the inn. So far, everyone holds the exact same opinion of him. Quirky, highly skilled, and most of all, a decent man. So... I will see what I can do with your aunt.”
William turns to look directly at John's profile, a wave of genuine relief washing over him. “Thanks,” he says politely.
John just lets out a quiet hum in response, keeping his gaze fixed on the road.
’I don't think she is going to agree,’ William ponders, staring blankly at the ceiling while lying on a small straw bed at the inn. ‘She'll probably just get angry at me for even thinking about it. But what if…’
His anxious thoughts are cut short as the door creaks open and John enters the room.
“So, does your work at City Hall go well?” William asks, sitting up.
“Sort of. Mark knows a guy inside City Hall,” John replies, bending down to pull his heavy travel bag from under the bed. “He tells us to wait for three days, and Mark claims he will handle everything from here. But now, we have to move. I need to start sorting things back in the village if I want to relocate here next week. If we leave right now, we will manage to reach Ashbrook a little before the sun sets.”
William gets up and pulls his own small bag out from under his bed.
John hesitates, his voice sounding uncharacteristically unsure. “And... tomorrow, we have to convince your aunt about the job.”
William pauses mid-motion, completely frozen by the sheer terror of the thought.