After breakfast, the house slowly came to life.
Sera and Albert stepped out toward the shop, while Kael stayed behind, clearing the table and rinsing the bowls with water warmed from the stove. The scent of stew still lingered in the air, mingling now with the faint morning breeze drifting through the crooked windows.
…
[Albert]
The moment I pushed open the front of the shop, I felt the dust hit my nose.
Sera stepped in behind me, already covering her mouth with her sleeve. "Ugh. This place needs a good scrub."
"It's been closed for almost a week," I muttered, sweeping my hand across the counter. Dust puffed into the air like it had been waiting for me. "This is what happens when no one tends to arcane junk."
She picked up a rag without being asked and started wiping down the glowing orbs on the display shelf. One of them buzzed when she touched it. "Is it supposed to make that noise?"
"Only if it doesn't like you."
She gave me a side-eye but didn't stop. I caught her glance around the room—the clutter, the flickering enchantments, the slow hum of dormant magic.
Then she did something unexpected. She climbed up on a stool and began dusting the gold-painted shop sign from the inside. Her bandaged arm moved with surprising grace.
It was almost… nice. A quiet moment. Until—
Jingle.
The front door burst open, and chaos followed.
Three children scrambled inside like puppies let off leash.
"Tarn," I grunted. "Wipe your boots."
Tarn, the ringleader, had a slingshot and the energy of a charging boar. Behind him were his sisters: Mira, with her freckled cheeks and too-big walking stick, and Linnie, the youngest, wearing a crooked flower crown and dragging her muddy shoes across my floor like a royal parade.
"Mister Albert is back!" Tarn shouted.
Sera froze with her duster in mid-air.
"Who's that?" Tarn pointed at her.
"That's Sera," I said. "She's helping clean."
Mira tilted her head. "Is she your wife?"
I blinked. Sera dropped the duster.
"Time to go," I said sharply, already herding them toward the door. "Go on. Go. Your parents are probably wondering what part of town you've burned down by now."
"But—"
"No buts." I waved a talisman over the door, and it gave a warning click. "Out."
As they scurried away, Linnie waved sweetly. "Bye, Miss Sera!"
Sera, still red as a forge coal, gave a tiny, stunned wave.
The shop went quiet again.I felt a gaze looking at me before Kael got in
[Kael]
I stepped into the shop, catching the tail end of what looked like Sera trying to pretend nothing happened.
Her face was flushed, and she was holding a rag like it was her last defense against reality.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why is your face red?"
"Nothing," she blurted, turning sharply away.
Suspicious.
I looked toward the back just in time to see Albert reenter, brushing dust off his sleeves like he'd fought a small war.
"What happened here?"
Albert's voice was flat. "Nothing."
He turned and walked straight past me. "Come. Outside.
"We stepped into the compound behind the house, bathed in soft morning sun. I noticed he was carrying something—a small folded talisman.
"Hand me your weights," he said.
I unclasped the anklets and wristbands, each one leaving my limbs lighter but somehow… incomplete. "Careful. They're heavier than they look."
Albert gave me a sideways look. "Boy, I made them."
He turned and walked back into the shop. I followed, curious.
Back inside, he passed Sera without a word. She looked up briefly from the scroll she was reading but didn't say anything—though her face turned slightly red again.
Albert reached the back wall, beside the main desk. He placed his hand on a stack of books and pushed them aside, revealing something I hadn't noticed before.
A door.
With a faint hum of magic, it clicked open.
Behind it was a small room, dimly lit and warm with the smell of burnt ink and old wood. A lamp glowed softly over a single workbench, and strange diagrams lined the walls—old magical theory, formulas, spellwork.
In the center was a flat stone table, and beside it, a carving tool that shimmered faintly under the light.
Albert sat down, placed the weights in front of him, and ran a finger across the old runes carved into the alloy.
He didn't speak. Not at first.
Then, with a quiet breath, he began to carve.
The tool glowed softly as it etched new markings into the bracelets and anklets, each stroke precise, deliberate, old magic shaping metal and meaning.
I didn't interrupt.
Because whatever he was doing—it wasn't just maintenance.
…
(Albert)
A thin curl of smoke rose from the engraving tool as I finished the last rune. I set the anklets down carefully, wiping my hands with a cloth that had long ago given up on being clean.
I stepped out of the workroom and into the front shop. The morning light had shifted—meaning I'd been at it longer than planned.
"Where's the boy?" I asked.
Sera, now perched behind the counter with a half-eaten fruit in hand, glanced up. "Went out for a walk. Hasn't been long."
I grunted. "He better not get lost. The bread sellers here smell like thieves."
She smiled behind her bite. "He's probably just exploring."
…
(Kael)
The town of Duckswatch wasn't large, but it was alive.
I stood just down the street from the shop, surrounded by Tarn and his two sisters. Somehow, I'd ended up being led through the market district by three miniature tour guides with more enthusiasm than stamina.
"This is Mrs. Haddie's pie stall," Tarn said, pointing at a wide tent with steaming pastries stacked in glass cases. "She sells the best moon-berry tarts, but you gotta ask nice or she charges double."
Mira added, "And that's the cloth place with the floating curtains. They never fall down, even when it rains. That's magic."
Little Linnie clung to my side, chewing something sticky. "We're gonna show you the fountain next. It has frogs. Real ones."
Duckswatch wasn't just a town—it was the kind of place that felt lived in. Narrow streets wove like tangled thread between tightly packed buildings. Wooden signs swung from iron hooks, each shouting its goods: cloaks, belts, arcane herbs, even old blades. Food smells drifted from every corner—baked yam, sweet stew, roasted nuts.
Albert's shop, oddly enough, was on the liveliest street in the whole place. That one narrow road was practically a market on its own—stalls with colorful shades, clattering pans, spell-tag vendors, and at least three different people loudly claiming to sell "genuine" drake leather.
It was noisy, messy, and oddly warm.
And that's when I met their mother.
She was standing by a small spice stand, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as she watched her kids pull me closer.
"Good morning", I'm Kael.
She eyed me carefully, then asked, "Where are you from?"
"I came to visit my uncle—Albert. He owns the arcane shop just up the street."
Her eyes widened. "Albert is your uncle?"
"Yes," I said, managing to keep a straight face. "I'll be here for a while."
Before she could ask anything else, Mira cut in, grinning wickedly. "Uncle Albert brought his wife, too. Her name's Sera!"
I choked on my own breath, barely covering a laugh.
Albert arrived just in time, appearing like smoke from behind a fruit stall.
"Cecil," he said, nodding. "Good morning."
"Albert," she returned. "You've been busy."
He glanced at the kids, who were now arguing about who got to show me the frog fountain. "I've been ambushed."
Cecil laughed.
Albert added."You know they barged into my shop this morning and accused someone of being my wife?"
"They also tried to re-organize my talisman shelf," Albert said flatly. "Mira sorted by how shiny they looked."
Tarn shrugged. "It was glowing!"
Albert turned back to Cecil with a faint sigh, gesturing toward the kids who were now pulling leaves off a stall curtain.
"That's how we met Sera, actually. She survived the first thirty minutes with them. Figured she was tougher than she looked."
Cecil raised an eyebrow. "She with you long?"
Albert scratched his beard. "Met her a few towns back. She was injured—nothing serious, just stubborn. Crossed paths during a scuffle over a stolen blade. We patched her up, and by morning she'd decided to tag along."
"Just like that?" Cecil asked, folding her arms.
Albert gave a small shrug. "Said she didn't have anywhere else to go. No plans. No people waiting. Claimed she just wanted to 'explore.'"
"Sounds lonely."
"Sounded honest," Albert said, then added with a smirk, "Also, I wasn't exactly going to argue with someone that determined. She kept up. Even helped during a rough spot on the road."
Cecil watched him for a moment, then smiled slowly. "Well, I pray she turns out to be a perfect match for you."
Albert grunted. "Oh no. Don't start that."
Cecil laughed. "Too late."
"Alright, alright," he muttered, waving her off. "Let's go, boy."
He turned toward me and headed back toward the shop, leaving Cecil grinning behind him, and the kids yelling about frog fountains again.
…
As we approached, I paused mid-step.
Seems like we got customers.
He didn't slow. "I know."
We stepped inside together.
Two men stood at the desk. Both unfamiliar.
One was tall and broad with fiery red hair, arms like stone pillars. The other was leaner, dark-haired, with a sharp nose and the kind of face that looked like it was always calculating something.
Sera was already by the shelves, flipping through a drawer marked "Mobility / Weight Alteration."
Albert entered like nothing was out of the ordinary.
"What can I help you with?" he asked, voice neutral.