"What are you doing?"
Jenkins, still in his slippers, padded over to the cat and patted its head, puzzled by why Chocolate was sniffing the flower at this hour. The cat twitched slightly but continued its task, its eyes narrowed in concentration.
Curious, Jenkins bent down and gently sniffed the petals himself, but detected no fragrance at all.
"What on earth are you sniffing, Chocolate?"
He found it all very peculiar, but it was getting late. Ignoring the cat's struggles, he scooped it up by the scruff of its neck, ready to head back to bed.
As he turned, his gaze incidentally fell upon a note resting neatly on the worktable. It was the message Mr. Saramanda the elf had left for him. After Miss Stuart had helped him decipher it, a strange potion recipe had appeared on the paper.
Unfortunately, Jenkins was still missing one of the key ingredients—the three wood hearts; he only had two. Otherwise, he could summon the unicorn again, take a tuft of its hair, and finally learn the purpose of the potion. Chapters fırst released on novel⟡fire.net
But the crucial thing right now wasn't the potion, but the script on the note. It was written in the common tongue with a slender font, resembling a string of interconnected branches and leaves. This had seemed perfectly normal; after all, Mr. Saramanda's native tongue couldn't possibly be a human language. In fact, until this very moment, Jenkins had never given the lettering a second thought.
But in that fleeting glance, he had subconsciously tried to read the characters from top to bottom instead of left to right. The first column of interconnected symbols was meaningless in the common tongue, yet Jenkins unexpectedly deciphered it in another language:
He froze for a moment.
He first deciphered the sentence, only then realizing it was Elvish. A moment later, he was baffled as to how he could even understand it.
What was even stranger was that a sentence hidden in such a peculiar way seemed to hold no deeper meaning. No matter how Jenkins interpreted it, it appeared to be nothing more than a lyrical phrase.
He gave Chocolate a little shake, but got no response. When he looked down, the cat was already sound asleep in his arms.
It wasn't until breakfast on Sunday morning that Jenkins remembered he might know Elvish because of his previous encounter with the Emerald Dream. Still, he couldn't comprehend the meaning of the mysterious message Mr. Saramanda had left in the note.
Furthermore, because of his earlier lie—that he had never encountered an elf—he couldn't discuss the matter with Papa Oliver or anyone else. This led to a thoroughly frustrating morning for Jenkins. To top it off, on his way to work, a reckless carriage nearly ran him over, souring his mood even further.
But his streak of bad luck didn't end there. The moment he pushed open the door to the antique shop, he heard Papa Oliver call out a reminder:
"Don't forget the ball this afternoon. You might want to sort out your hair and clothes. I don't think we'll have any customers this morning."
Papa Oliver meant well, but his words only served to remind Jenkins that he still had no idea who his dance partner was. This was a rather serious problem; if he made a mistake, he felt he might lose a friend forever... perhaps more than one.
The morning proved to be just as dull as expected. Since Papa Oliver had given him the entire day off, Jenkins decided to leave the antique shop. He took the raw ruby Robert had given him and headed to the jeweler Papa Oliver had recommended.
The man was a master craftsman, but an ordinary one—not an Enchanter, to be specific. It seemed Papa Oliver had known him for quite some time, which made sense, as the antique shop occasionally had to deal with precious gemstones.
The old artisan's name was Albert Torian. His shop was tucked away in a remote alley, far from the Dock Area but very close to Maidenhaven Road. The door to the shop was unusually narrow, and upon entering, Jenkins discovered the interior was just as cramped.
The already small space was now cluttered with all sorts of peculiar objects piled high by its owner. It wasn't just gem-cutting equipment; Jenkins even spotted a telescope, a simple sand-table map of the continent, and a strange contraption made of six standard square mirrors.
There were so many oddities in the shop that Jenkins forgot to greet the owner upon entering.
The old man behind the counter inquired tentatively, his own workspace piled high with various items. He was wearing a pair of faded blue overalls, a rare sight in Nolan, as they were considered the crude attire of people from the central continent.
When Jenkins had walked in, the old man had been wearing a monocle, examining an uneven black stone in his hand. The rock seemed to be embedded with something sparkling, like diamonds, but both the luster and texture were different.
"Sorry to disturb you. Papa Oliver sent me."
He said this as he made his way to the counter, carefully watching his step to avoid treading on anything, which was no easy task.
"Oliver? Oh, I recognize your face! You're a Williams! Come on over. So that old coot took on another apprentice, did he?"
The old artisan immediately grew more enthusiastic, even pouring Jenkins a cup of hot tea.
Jenkins opened his briefcase and explained his reason for visiting. Torian was quite intrigued by the large raw stone, though not entirely surprised. He had evidently seen larger gems before, but Jenkins was certain none could compare to the head-sized sapphire he possessed.
Since Jenkins had been sent by Papa Oliver, their discussion about the price was very amicable. The only problem was that Jenkins couldn't decide what kind of jewelry set to have it cut into. Even after the old artisan roughly estimated the volume of gemstone within the raw stone and proposed several designs, Jenkins remained unable to make a choice.
"Forgive me for asking, but who is the jewelry for?"
"A gift for a friend... a female friend."
He chose his words carefully.
"Then why not ask her what she likes?"
the old artisan suggested warmly, his salt-and-pepper stubble giving his face a kindly appearance. Jenkins, however, still didn't think it was a good idea.
He couldn't answer the question, but the old artisan, rich with life experience, easily read the complex emotions on his face. The old man shook his head and stroked the surface of the stone in the briefcase with a large, rough hand.
"In that case, why don't we..."
Before he could finish his sentence, the shop door creaked open behind them. Jenkins instinctively turned around—
Chocolate let out a displeased meow, as the hand that had been stroking him had suddenly tensed.