Wizard of Jatte by Rowan Erlking (librera reader txt) 📕

One of the things that he noticed while waiting was that the collection of people in line were from all walks of life, though most of them did not look rich. In fact, the majority appeared to be the type of people that owned rolling stands that folded out at bazaars.

Another thing he noticed was the number of constables in the room, probably there to keep order. One of the constables was inspecting the bodies of the people as the passed to the shorter lines at the desks, making them even open their mouths, take off their gloves, roll up their sleeves and lift up their shirt backs.

A chill ran through Theissen. He glanced at his scarred hands. No one had yet held his past criminal record against him. In most places, the people even pitied him that Lumen was such a strict town. But here Yuld Scribeson, his former teacher, was proven right. The law did matter in Jattereen. It made Theissen wonder if he really was fit to represent the former birdmen and molemen since he really wasn’t as respectable as they had hoped.

“Next!” The line moved forward.

His palms started to sweat. The constables were rather vigilant in their inspections. Their searches were thorough. On one man they found had a pierced tongue, the sign of a first-time liar. They drew him aside and started to question him. The perpetrator’s head hung lower and lower with every word they said to him.

“Next!”

Another applicant stepped forward. And so did the line.

The constables drew a woman aside and made her spill out the contents of the large bag she was carrying. They found nothing of significance, but they chastened her for bringing something big enough to conceal a weapon in a government building…which was puzzling. Theissen wondered why anyone would bring a weapon into a civil building. But as the woman regained her place in line, looking flustered yet relieved, he wondered more about the state of affairs in Jattereen. Was it really that dangerous of a city? Those thugs he had met the night before didn’t exist in Pepersin or Liptan. Of course Dhilia had them. Maybe it was an eastern thing.

“Next!”

The line advanced.

Theissen looked up, watching the constables now make a young man strip off his coat. They shook it down, checking all the pockets. A knife was removed. They stuck it in a basket to the side, tagging it. They handed the man a wooden tab with a number on it. They also placed in a metal comb and a pair of sharp looking eating utensils.

“Next!”

They all took another step. Somehow Theissen found himself three spaces away from the front of the line. He wondered when he missed all the other calls. Or perhaps, he realized, more than one person went up when they were called. Either way, Theissen soon found a constable at his side speaking to him.

“Lift your arms.”

Theissen obeyed, extending his arms out. They examined his palms and then stared at his wrist.

“What’s this?”

Drawing in a breath for strength, Theissen replied, “The cuts on my hands were for stealing when I was barely eight. The scar on my wrist is for brawling around the same time.”

“Your hand is still attached,” the constable said, marveling over it.

Nodding, Theissen’s cheeks went hot. “Well, uh, our village had a wizard. Uh. It was reattached right away.”

“He was just a kid then,” one of the constables said with a nod. “Let it slide.”

“What of these?” One constable tugged at Theissen’s tool belt.

“Take it off,” another ordered.

Feeling dread as he unbuckled the leather tool belt then removed it from his hips, Theissen passed it over. “I’m a journeyman carpenter. They’re my tools.”

“They look sharp,” one of the constables commented.

Theissen gave a painful smile. “Good for carving into mahogany and cherry wood.”

“What about that cloak? Take it off.”

Reaching for the clasp, Theissen undid it and lifted the cloak his uncle the weaver had given him from off his shoulders. The people behind him gasped at his bare back. He never had the time to get a regular shirt. He was still wearing that birdman top given to him months ago.

“Aren’t you cold?” someone asked.

“Without the cloak? Yes,” Theissen replied. He then dug into his pockets, taking out his knife and his flint. “Here. I also have these.”

All he had left was his money pouch. His actual traveling pack was still in the merchant’s daughter’s bedroom.

The constables had him open the money pouch also.

“Copper, silver, and even gold?” A constable immediately stared up at him. “You’re a successful journeyman, aren’t you?”

Theissen shrugged. “I hope so.”

A constable snorted and rolled up the cloak, stowing the tool belt and knife with the flint into a basket of their own. He stuffed a wooden ticket into Theissen’s hand. “Go on. Though I don’t know what you are registering for here. The carpenter’s office is back that way.”

Looking back, Theissen nodded. “Oh. I intend to go there next. I’m registering for some friends of mine that traveled into Jattereen with me.”

“Next!”

The constable placed a hand on Theissen’s shoulder to stop him. “You can’t register for others. They have to come in.”

Blinking at him, Theissen still shrugged. “They asked me to be their liaison. They need to go through me.”

He was about to go to the next open line, but the constable still held him back. “And why is that? Can’t they just come up and register themselves?”

How could he tell this man they were former demons? There was no occasion for it that would do any good. So, Theissen just smiled and gave another bow before saying, “I’m afraid not. They’re not the usual Jatte citizens.”

He then walked straight to where the free registrar sat pulling out a form to write on.

“State your name and your business.”

Theissen felt uncomfortable as he watched her gaze dryly on him at first, then immediately open her eyes wide to a stare at his bare shoulders and arms.

“Um, actually, I have a question,” he said. “Can I register for multiple businesses?”

She nodded dumbly, automatically pulling out the other forms. “Your trade?”

He blushed. “Uh, I’m a carpenter but they—”

“Are you planning on selling your merchandise yourself then?”

Blinking, Theissen replied, “Isn’t that how carpenters do it here? When I lived in Liptan Town that’s what we did.”

She gave him a wan look despite his shocking appearance. “If you’re part of a house (I hope you registered with one), they sell what you make at their outlets. But if you are an entrepreneur, crazy enough to take on the houses, it is actually best for you to sell in a shop—unless, of course, you are as adept at carpentry as the famous Carpenter of Serjiev, or the carpenter of Lumen.”

Theissen blinked again. “As the famous Carpenter of Serjiev? You don’t mean Dalance Carpenterson, do you?”

Her eyes widened at him again. She nodded frankly. “Yes, that’s his name. You met him?”

Shrugging, Theissen peeked back at the growing audience he had in the people in line. “Sure. He’d my oldest brother. The carpenter of Lumen is my father.”

“Your father is the carpenter of Lumen Village?” She practically jumped out of her seat.

Leaning back, Theissen nodded warily. “Yes.”

“I don’t believe it.” One of the constables murmured.

However, they converged on his carpentry belt, searching for an emblem of Lumen Village on it. They found that plainly pressed into the leather and on every tool Theissen owned.

“He’s not lying,” the one holding his belt declared.

“Of course I’m not.” Theissen turned to face him. “Liars have their tongues cut out.”

More than just the constables stared now. The buzz of work in the entire room ceased.

“Can I now register?” Theissen asked timidly, hunching his shoulders in wait.

The woman nodded and sat down, filling out the form with vigor. “Full name.”

“Theissen Darol Mukumar Carpenterson of Lumen Village. Fifth son of Sarton Lubanar Scolderan Carpenter and Malana Rosepetal Brisina Tristeen Carpenterwife formerly a Potterdaughter of Brakir’s Town.”

She scratched that out then continued to fill out details, asking for each one when they came up. “Former places of work?”

“Liptan Town under Lordri Carpenter, though I did study magic under Pandoros Magician and Undi Magician.”

More people stared. Almost no one spoke. Or if they did, it was in whispers.

“Are you saying you are a magician also?” the woman asked, staring up at him.

“No,” Theissen blushed with a real smile.

She sighed and continued to write again.

“Actually, I’m a wizard.”

The woman froze. Her pen dripped a puddle of ink onto the paper. “A what?”

He reached over and tapped her pen. “The paper, please. Don’t damage it.”

She gasped, looking at the mess. But Theissen, regarding with some regret that everyone was watching, pulled the ink off the page, leaving it clean as new. He put the ink back into the bottle on the desk with a flick of his fingers. This time she dropped the pen.

“Oh, don’t do that!” He stood up. It took more magic to take off the splatters from all the forms and desk. “Come on. It is not all that strange. I need to register.”

The constables surrounded him. He looked up, feeling their presence. He tried to smile.

“You are a wizard?” the constable that had inspected his body said with a shaking voice.

Theissen nodded. Cowed by the sudden lack of free space around his body, he pulled his arms closer to himself.

“Born one.” Theissen then extended his cut arm. “I’m the wizard that reattached my hand. That’s not illegal, you know. We checked the law books to make sure.”

One of the constables just laughed. The others still stared, dumbstruck with amazement.

“Are you intending to stay in Jattereen?” that one constable asked.

Meeting his eyes directly, Theissen nodded, trusting he was making a friend and not an enemy. “I am hoping to. I have to register for land in two places today also.”

“So, are you a carpenter or a wizard?” someone asked.

Rolling his eyes, Theissen turned to the woman who was registering him. He tapped one of the blank forms. “Write down that I am a carpenter AND a wizard. And add I’m liaison to for the trade and selling of goods for…” He paused, knowing what he had to say would unsettle the room even more, toughing the other blank forms in her stack. “…the Molemen and Birdmen of the Jadoran Mountains and Forest.”

“For demons?” the woman exclaimed struggling to keep hold of her pen again. This time it did not splatter ink, though.

Theissen nodded. “I promised them I would help them sell their feathers and ores and all that at fair prices. They are being cheated by the merchants that buy from them.”

“Cheated? Demon feathers cost a fortune!” one man shouted.

Theissen turned with a nod to him. “A fortune that the birdmen never see. The merchants that buy from them pay them pittance.”

“How much is pittance?” the registrar asked.

“About seven in silver for a feather.”

“We pay about forty in gold,” someone murmured.

“Exactly,” Theissen said as he sat down. “Now please, write that down.”

Looking bewildered, the woman looked to the constables with a shrug and did as Theissen bade, filling out the other forms.

“I will have several employees,” Theissen added so she could pen it on the form for the feather merchants and also the one for the metal merchants. “About fifteen former molemen and some, oh, I think it is about seventeen former birdmen—though two of those former birdmen are my carpenter apprentices.”

“Former?” a constable echoed. “What do you mean former?”

“I cured them. They’re human now.” Theissen tapped the paper and said, “Also add that we intend to open an inn on the lot where the old