Still looking around the room suspiciously, Beam sat. One of the serving girls dragged a chair in front of him a moment later and the Elder sat on that too, letting out a loud sigh of relief, that was soon replaced by a smile as he continued to stare at Beam without even blinking.
"…So, I'm here about the firewood for the villagers," Beam said, coughing, trying to get things moving.
"Ah, yes," the Elder said with a slow nod, as though they had all the time in the world. "Two, is our tea ready yet?" He called out.
Just as he spoke, one of the women came bearing a tray with a steaming teapot and two small cups. Beam squinted one eye, fairly sure by now that the Elder was calling his servants 'One' and 'Two'.
"There you are, do drink," the Elder said, handing Beam a teacup with old shaking hands. It was only then that Beam saw just how massive the Elder's hands were. They were more than double the size of Beam's, with long thin fingers attached to them.
Beam took the cup off him and sniffed the liquid cautiously, deciding not to drink it quite yet. He watched the Elder take a sip of his first.
"I'm glad to see you making more of an attempt to enter our fold. Oh, it is indeed a sad day when a stranger does not learn to become friend with the village. It had been so long too – I thought that you'd stay stuck in your ways forever. It was such a shame. But now, here you are, a transformed person, hmm? Isn't that just wonderfully alchemical? Just so transformative and inspiring." He licked his dry, revealing a mouth that was near toothless.
"Ah, forgive me – my mind does drift. Fire… Firewood. Indeed. Yes, yes. Winter is coming, after all. I can feel it in these old bones, I can. Mmm, what an issue, hmm? There's certainly a few families that don't have enough wood to get them through winter. They'll need to be helped, won't they? But of course, such is the nature of a healthy and functioning village," the Elder murmured, sipping at his tea.
One of his servants handed him a long rolled-up scroll as he murmured to himself. Beam still couldn't tell them apart, so they may as well have been the same person to him.
"Well, according to my list here, there are 13 households that have requested the aid of myself and the Ten Major Families. That's quite a number of people, mm… Of course we won't be able to help them all… It simply wouldn't be good for the village. We're going to have to choose… Ah, but some of these already have 10 Favour points that they owe… To stack up any more debt would be beyond them. Ah, such a shame," the Elder said.
Beam twisted his face at that. There were several terms he didn't understand in there, one being Favour points. He wasn't really even sure who the Ten Major Families were, but he knew they had a hand in choosing who the village Elder would be.
"I'm under orders to make sure none of them go without. As per Ferdinand's quest to Greeves," Beam said.
Somehow, that must have been shocking to the old man, for he pulled back his old neck in a look of condescension. "Well, I'm afraid that simply won't be possible. Some households refuse to pay their debts – they can't be given more."
The Elder tilted his head to the side, a comfortable smile on his face as he looked deep into Beam's eyes. And then the Elder tilted his head back the other way, like the pendulum on a clock. His servants hovered behind him. Then, just for an instant, Beam felt his vision begin to blur.
A wave of repulsion washed over him, as something deep within him rejected the Elder's gaze. It urged him to urgently look around the room. Beam's eyes darted here and there, taking more things in, his mind processing things far more erratically than before.
He noticed the odd black crystals that sat in a bundle of unwrapped cloth in the corner of the room, as though they had only just been delivered and had yet to be unpacked.
He noticed the old leather-bound tome next to it, with a symbol etched into its cover – a boar's head on a pike, with the whole thing enshrouded in flame.
He glanced past the soulless faces of the servants and noticed the out-of-place carpet of the floor and a uniform line across the floorboards, as though they had all been cut together to make way for some sort of underground storage facility.
Something made Beam's anger rise. He felt the dark feeling within him that he often got, that he'd grown used to all those years. It was growing stronger these days and harder to control. Beam acknowledged it, but he dared not pay it too much mind. With every bit of progress that he earned, he could feel that dark fire burning within him, growing stronger, hungering for a piece of his soul.
Next to it, he could feel something else, something opposing it. But both were equally as overwhelming, both made him twist with the revulsion, for they weren't him. And now, both were calling him to anger.
Beam's eyes flashed, the golden flecks arose and his jaw tightened as though to growl.
"Like I said," Beam growled, his eyes flashing. "That's none of my business. Are you saying you're going to help some of these families, but not the others? Then, to get done what I need to do, will you give me the names of those you won't help, so that I will?"
"W-w-what--!" It was a mere sound that came out of the old man's mouth as Beam's anger rose and his eyes sparkled with fury. He drew back in his chair with what looked like terror, trembling for a moment.
His servants seemed to notice that, for they both appeared behind his chair as if out of nowhere and they glared at him.