"Oh! How fascinating. You must be Arthur's youngest son! I have not had the pleasure of meeting you quite yet. I am Edwin Clobtrotter, cobbler by trade and full-time busybody when the festival rolls around."
Jacob gave a small bow of the head. "Nice to meet you, sir. I am Jacob Hemlock, maybe a farmer, but for now, I am known to frequent the chicken coop."
"Likewise." The man squinted at the hems of Jacob's trousers. "Self-cleaning enchantments, then? No shimmer, no crackling edges, nothing to give it away . . . Clean work, though I would not be one to claim to know much about such enchantments."
A few other adults and teens in the group murmured in agreement. One boy, maybe a year older than Jacob, reached out and rubbed his fingers across the jacket fabric.
"It even feels different. Like it's lighter than it should be," the boy said.
Jacob nodded. "Lightness enchantment, I figured it would be better to have a lighter jacket than something extra comfortable."
The boy grinned. "That's cool. I'm Bran. You enchant all your clothes like this?"
Jacob relaxed a little. "Only the new ones. These were for the festival."
Bran nodded slowly, eyes still on the jacket. "I've been messing with clock springs and tin fittings in my shed. But what you're doing . . . this is something else."
Edwin chuckled, giving Jacob a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Well, I hope you enjoy the festival, young man. Just try not to upstage the fire dancers later."
As the group wandered off, a few more kids lingered nearby. One girl looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it and walked away. Another boy just gave Jacob a quiet nod before heading toward the food stalls.
Jacob turned back to the family booth. May was smiling, clearly pretending not to have been watching.
Arthur gave him a small thumbs-up from behind a stack of herb bundles.
Jake was feeling successful and decided to capitalize on this feeling to help his parents with the booth for a while. He still had some people stop by who had heard of his work, but mostly, he spent some time enjoying the feeling of meeting people for the first time.
After a while, May leaned over to say to Jacob, "You should go explore some, see what the festival has going on. Also, the fire dancers are going to be that way."
She pointed in a direction for Jake to start wandering, then ushered him away from the boot.
Jacob wandered through the festival crowd, letting the smells of roasted meat and sweet bread mix with the flicker of sunlight from the colorful fabric overhead. Music drifted from different corners, but one voice caught his ear.
Not loud. Not showy. Just . . . clear, almost enchanting. Soft at first, then stronger, like a gentle current that steadily trickles down the face of a rock.
He stopped.
Across the square, beneath a sycamore tree strung with small glass ornaments, a girl stood barefoot on a wooden crate. She was maybe his age. Brown hair tied back with a ribbon, eyes closed, singing like the words were growing straight from her chest.
It wasn't just good. It was something else.
Jacob felt his tiredness ease. The ache in his shoulders lightened. His heart didn't race, but his whole body felt more awake.
'What the . . . is that magic?'
He blinked, focusing harder.
No glowing runes. No hand gestures. Just her, singing like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He stood there a little longer than he meant to. Not staring, but not walking away either.
'She was watching my demonstration with my clothes . . .'
Once she was done singing, she noticed Jake and blushed. He tried to walk away, but bumped into an adult walking by, which caused him to stumble toward the girl instead of away.
'Hi, I am Sera.'
The young girl may have blushed when she noticed her admirer, but Jacob had to admit that someone that is capable of singing at such a crowded event was anything but shy.
"I was trying not to stare!" Jacob blurted out. "There was something about your singing, it was . . . almost magical?"
Sera tilted her head, her blush fading into a curious smile.
"Magical?" she asked, her voice still soft, but clearer now that she was speaking directly to him.
Jacob scratched the back of his neck. "Not like glowing runes or spellbooks, but… when you sang, I felt better. Stronger, even. Like I had just woken up from a nap."
She looked down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes against the wood of the crate. "People say things like that sometimes. I thought it was just because they liked the song, my grandma says my father had the same voice . . ."
Jacob shook his head. "No, it was more than that. I do enchantments. I know what it feels like when something is more than it seems, and there was more to your voice than just sounding good."
She stepped off the crate and stood in front of him now, a few inches shorter but clearly holding her own in the conversation.
"So you're the boy with the enchanted clothes," she said, looking him over. "I wondered how you kept your jacket so clean."
He gave a sheepish grin. "They were a gift from my mom, but I might have helped them stay that way."
Sera smiled again, this time warmer. "Well, Jacob the Enchanter, if my voice really is magical, maybe we should figure out what kind of magic it is."
Jacob blinked, surprised she took it seriously.
"Yeah," he said slowly. "Maybe we should."
They stood like that for a moment, both quiet. No awkwardness between them, just thinking.
Then Sera nodded toward the bonfire at the center of the square. "They're about to start the lantern lighting. You coming?"
Jacob hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
She led the way without waiting, and Jacob followed, still not quite sure what had just happened.
'This might be a whole new kind of magic . . . what the hell is up with this village? Are all villages in this magical world crowded with different types of magic?'
Shaking his head from his thoughts, he picked up the pace to catch up to Sera.