The day after a welcoming party was almost always incredibly busy for a Guild like the Amber Sky.
With the newcomers welcomed and shown the bar to clear, it meant it was back to work for those who’d been waiting for it to pass.
And Soren was looking quite amused as he looked at the all too busy job board, currently lined end to end in his guildmates clamoring to get back on the job, or for the handful of newcomers eager to get onto their first tasks and finally get their feet wet as proper Freelancers.
“Always the worst after some big event,” Soren chuckled, leaning on the counter and glancing at Manas.
“How much you wanna bet half of them are hungover from getting piss drunk?”
“Eh, consequences of trying to out-drink Master Sharzok and Branmek.
Not happening.”
“Hence why I never even try.
By the way, how’s Ray doing?”
“Ray’s doing fine.
He’s out of town for a bit settling a deal involving work.
Had to go all the way to Aurora for it though.
Promised he’d bring back something for you too.”
“Well, that’s nice of him,” Soren chuckled.
“I’ll be sure to stop by your guys’ place once he’s back.”
“You’re always welcome.
Besides, I like cooking for extra people.
Maybe you could bring Syr along, eh?
I think she and Ray’d get along since he deals in artifacts and what not.”
“Do we need two relic nuts talking our ears off for hours about their interests?”
“Hahaha, maybe not.
But you know how Ray likes talking about his latest finds.
Besides, Syr’s gonna need connections, isn’t she?”
“Fair point,” Soren then flinched when he felt a sudden bloom of warmth at his right forearm, quickly grabbing at the sleeve of his jacket until the feeling died down.
“Damn… acting up again.
Probably doesn’t help that my glove took a hit during that last job…”
“That spell focus glove you use?” Manas hummed as Soren nodded.
However, he didn’t say a word about what else Soren had said, only having a knowing look on his face.
“Just be sure to stop by Carys’ shop before you head out on the next job then.
Best to have her look at it, right?
Considering she knows and all that?”
“Yeah yeah…” Soren then gave a slight chuckle. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“Dómhall suggested Syr stop by her place so she has someone who can help keep that staff of hers in top shape.
Funny coincidence that, eh?”
“Maybe it’s fate!” snickered Manas.
“Perhaps some forces beyond our reckoning are bringing you and that Alf together for some grander purpose!”
“Pfftahaha!
Really?
I know I said I may have a lead on actually digging into…” Soren lifted his right arm, shifting his forearm a bit.
“This problem, doesn’t mean it’d be something like destiny at work.”
“I mean hey, you never know.
We live in a world of magic, monsters, and people who can bend the fabric of reality to control nature itself.
Weirder things would’ve happened than a happenstance encounter between two people with differing reasons for wanting to dig into the lost empire we’re all oh so keen to learn more about.”
“Heh, hate to say it but you’re not wrong,” Soren stepped away from the counter, pocketing his hands as he moved to the door.
“Well, I’m gonna get to Carys’ shop.
After that, time for the next job.
See ya later.”
“Have a good one.”
As he left the Guild Hall, Soren couldn’t really help but ponder what it was Manas had said though.
‘Destiny, huh?’ he thought.
‘Not really one to believe in stuff like that or even fate… but maybe it really isn’t some coincidence a person like Syr ended up here… not when someone like me happens to be running around looking for his own answers about things.
But… we’ll see.’
Within a place like Laguna’s Guild District, it wasn’t quite uncommon for one to find specialty shops in the Wards and Streets making it up.
It was often best for these businesses to remain close to their best sources of income after all.
Though cases such as The Bullrush were in other districts for ease of supply acquisition.
But, with how interconnected Cleaharbor was as a city, it wasn’t as if taking the train or getting a cab to another District was ever a problem anyway.
But who would complain if they could get things done barely a stone’s throw away from their main place of business after all?
For Freelancers, convenience was always a helpful thing.
The Autumn Leaf was of course, just one among many specialty shops of this nature.
But, it was certainly one that, like The Bullrush, had earned it’s renown thanks to its patron being a master of her craft while being quite prone to reasonable rates for her services.
And much like the Silver Scale, the place wasn’t at all hard to find when one found themselves on Ainsel Avenue, though for different reasons.
Where most of the Alf-architecture that made up the street’s buildings were done out of several styles of evergreens and oaks, creating a wide canopy of deep greens, living up to its name, the Autumn Leaf’s building was kept in a seemingly perpetual appearance of fall with its maple tree’s feathers being in a range of bright reds and oranges.
Helped mainly be the fact the tree used in the Weaving of the building had been sourced from the Maple Branches, a location in Vanira famous for being in a similar state of perpetual autumnal conditions thanks to the unique nature of the etheric energies of the location.
As Syr had told Ard, it was a tourist trap for good reason.
When Soren entered through the lower door of the establishment, the first thing was his nose being almost assaulted by a sudden breeze of rich, forest-scented gusts in the air.
Being as used to visiting the place as he was though, it did little to slow him as he shut the door and moved further in.
All around him were rows and rows of shelves lined in everything the perspective magic user would need.
Spell catalysis from simple wands to elaborate staffs of who knew how many origins.
Shelves lined end to end, stuffed with unbound pages yet all meticulously organized with nothing out of place.
And even more beyond where one couldn’t easily see from where they entered.
And flitting through all of it were myriad multicolored birds, creating a rainbow of light trails in the air as they flitted from shelf to shelf, keeping everything where it needed to be or attending to the customers wandering the shop.
Or, in some cases, going to and from several the same exact person.
An Aflish woman who, like many of her kind, looked far younger than she no doubt truly was.
A slim figure covered in simple but elegant robes of Alfish make, the leaf-decorated, dark green satin coat splitting off to more sensible legwear and shoes beneath.
Bright red hair with a few streaks of seemingly iridescent white scattered throughout, tied up into a messy tail that left a fringe to frame her pale-blue eyes.
The owner of the shop, Carys… or at least her many simulacra that operated as the floor-staff of the shop while she was busy in her workshop above.
Approaching the nearest one, Soren cleared his throat.
“Oi!
Is the owner in, I need an item of mine looked at.”