On the day Robert visited the antique shop, Miss Broniaons was only a level seven, but by the time the demigods appeared yesterday, she had already ascended to the rank of a mortal demigod.
Jenkins was curious what kind of choice she could have possibly made in such a short time. But this was the greatest secret of every Enchanter, and he couldn't risk asking such a bold question.
"Hello, Miss Audrey. Hello, Miss Broniaons!"
He had to circle around to the cemetery fence to meet up with the two women. They must have just arrived, as their shoes weren't stained with mud from the accumulated snow.
Inspecting the coffin had taken some time, and now the sun had completely vanished from sight. To improve visibility, numerous kerosene lamps had been placed around the cemetery and along the small path, intermittently joined by the glow of light summoned by Enchanters using their supernatural abilities.
But with the snow still falling, the light struggled to penetrate very far into the gloom.
"Jenkins, I knew we would find you here."
Once the three of them were together, they started walking toward the village. Although there was still some distance between the cemetery and the village, the path didn't feel ominous, as a large number of personnel were busy at work all around them.
They had sought Jenkins out for a specific reason. It started when Miss Audrey explained to Miss Broniaons that Jenkins was studying divination with her. As Miss Audrey's colleague from the same school of thought, Miss Broniaons was obligated by ancient tradition to perform an initiation blessing for Jenkins.
"But I'm only learning the basics. Isn't this... a little too serious?"
he asked, feeling a bit awkward.
"I know what you're concerned about, Mr. Williams. We have already conferred with the Sage's Church on this matter. There will be no issues."
This was no lie. Afterward, the three of them rode in a church carriage back to the cathedral. There, Mr. Smith, the Keeper of Secrets, explained the specifics to Jenkins. Since the school of thought to which Miss Audrey and Miss Broniaons belonged was not a subsidiary of the Church of Destiny and Order, there was theoretically no issue with Jenkins joining them.
The simple blessing was held in one of the church's vacant reception rooms. It wasn't a supernatural ritual, merely a unique form of acknowledgment. Presided over by Miss Broniaons, Jenkins placed his right hand on an old crystal ball and released his Soul Emblem—the small tree—imprinting it within.
The crystal ball served as a registry, recording every participant in the school's history. According to Miss Broniaons, it was an artifact passed down from the previous epoch and contained over a thousand emblems.
To celebrate Jenkins's induction into their school, Miss Audrey gave him an amethyst pendant. It had been imbued with several complex rituals that would bring the wearer good luck for one year.
It was hard to say how much help this would truly be, but it was certainly better than nothing.
he had to remind Chocolate yet again, hoping to prevent the cat from choking on something so indigestible.
Before they parted ways, the three of them chatted for a while. Jenkins learned that Miss Broniaons would be staying in Nolan for some time. At her church's request, she was to assist the city in resolving the crisis posed by the Skull Sword.
The sword had become a threat to the entire continent, so forces from outside Nolan were getting involved, hoping to resolve the issue before the crisis could fully erupt.
The only downside was that his next interesting divination lesson was now postponed indefinitely. Everyone was incredibly busy; Jenkins felt like the only one with nothing to do.
Miss Broniaons seemed quite interested in their lessons, but whenever she showed the slightest inclination to join in, Miss Audrey would abruptly change the subject.
The dynamic between the two women was strange, but Jenkins knew better than to comment on it.
By the time he left the church, the sky had turned completely black. He decided against staying the night there, remembering that the two books Papa Oliver had requested were still at his house.
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Papa Oliver all day and had no idea how business at the antique shop had been.
With that in mind, he had the church carriage drop him off on Fifth Queen's Avenue first. From the street below, he saw a light was still on in the second-floor window of the antique shop, a sure sign that Papa Oliver was still awake.
Deciding not to disturb him, Jenkins got back into the carriage with his cat and returned to St. George Street.
He hadn't been back since leaving that morning, and the house felt distinctly chilly as he opened the door. He turned on the gaslight in the foyer and was about to take off his snow-dusted boots when he suddenly heard the bell on the front gate jingle.
He hadn't closed the front door yet, so a quick glance revealed the person ringing the bell: a homeless man bundled in a tattered cotton coat. With the day's snowfall, the temperature tonight was indeed quite low; anyone who dressed for last night's weather would be running a serious risk of catching a cold.
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Jenkins had never heard of anyone going door to door begging at nine o'clock at night. But since the man wasn't an Enchanter and showed no unusual aura, Jenkins didn't mind exchanging a few words.
He turned to go back outside, intending to bring his cat with him, but Chocolate had already scampered to the living room sofa and clearly had no intention of venturing out again.
"Is there something I can help you with, sir?"
He had no choice but to go out by himself, walking down the path to the gate to speak with the man.
"Hello, sir. I've come to deliver a letter."
The homeless man spoke in a trembling voice, lifting his head as he did. Only then did Jenkins see his full face. This wasn't their first encounter; just last Saturday morning, this same man had disturbed his and Chocolate's sleep.
"Yes, we have," the man affirmed. "Mr. Mason Pisco asked me to deliver this letter, sir. It was his request. He may have passed on, but I must honor my promise."
He shivered as he spoke, shifting his weight from foot to foot to try and stay warm.
The name left Jenkins momentarily stunned. During that endlessly repeating thirty-first day, the playwright had given him a great deal of guidance.
"Mr. Pisco sent you?"
The man nodded. Noticing how badly he was shivering from the cold, Jenkins immediately invited him inside. But the man gripped the iron gate tightly, refusing to let Jenkins open it. He clearly had no desire to impose.