Chapter 11: Chapter 11

The weather grew warmer. The inn did well enough that Hal set plans into motion for getting a chicken coop. I learned he was one of those lucky common folk who had some magic, water magic to be exact, which was how he kept his inn so blessedly free of pests, which was actually its big selling points to travelers. He let me watch as he sprayed a fine mist of water from his open palms, leaving the air with a minty tang. I managed to get a chance to ask Derrick if he could do fire magic, since he was a blacksmith, without Gus around to guilt me about being friendly and got a surly nod.

"Don't know anyone in my profession who doesn't have an affinity for fire magic," he said, giving me a curious look, or as much of one as I could see through his hair. "Blacksmiths do things differently where you're from?"

Yeah, my story of being sheltered was starting to look a little fragile, so I started mixing in a bit of the truth.