Chapter 98
Flange Orphanage, City: Three Prongs Fork, Republic of Shantu, Continent: Barat, the Year 2031, Planet: Grimoire
One afternoon, when Grifton wasn't working in the orchards or anywhere else, he sat cross-legged in his favorite perch. That particular day, he was catching up on delayed crafts. It was approaching the time of year when students, foundlings or not, had to submit their advanced designs for evaluation.
Technically, Grifton had already passed the journeyman rank, but because of his age, he couldn't advance any further. He was sure some people were taking advantage of his unofficial status to rip him off. Not Denby and the others, but those crooked merchant groups.
True, half of them had been busted and were currently serving sentences in the prison labor camp.
Grifton exhaled as he considered the examination of goods because he wasn't looking forward to going through that again. If they passed, they would advance to journeyman and be able to start selling their work independently through official channels. "I wonder if this is even worth the hassle anymore," he muttered sourly.
He paused in his work, leaned into the bark of the trunk, and sighed wearily. It was an ancient tree that shaded the small shed he used for his projects. He also used the tree itself as shelter when he wasn't in the mood to be inside the building.
Grifton was currently fixing his clothing. "I really don't have the time to continue doing this every other week." He'd another blasted growth spurt and was almost at six feet already. "Irritating," Grifton muttered.
If this continued, he would have to start using material set aside for his projects for his own clothing. That was truly annoying because it would result in lost profit.
Grifton now had a real issue on his hands. "What to do about this problem." He considered the problem. "On the other hand, if I did wear it while working and people saw it...well, that could be a form of advertising, I suppose?"
The alternative was that someone might think him a thief. "Oh, naturally that's going to happen." He gritted his teeth because that had happened on quite a few occasions. It was why the team members finally offered to take his goods into town instead.
It was outrageous and unfair, but that was how this society rolled. "Whoever thinks that orphans are honest and hardworking?" Grifton rolled his eyes and sighed. It was a dilemma, no matter how he thought about it. Bah, I'll just wear the plainest pieces and save the flashier ones for sales." That was how he decided to handle the problem.
Either that or he broke down and went into town to purchase new clothing items, including shoes. "Hmm," Grifton inspected his feet and shrugged. "I may have to do that anyway." He'd managed to keep his shoes in decent shape.
Grifton did his own shoemaking just as a hobby. "Darn good thing I can cobble together shoes." Eventually, though, he would outgrow the ones he had, as he was the clothing. "I don't think I can suppress my growth much longer."
He'd hoped to keep it low-key in order to not cause further confusion. However, this was getting ridiculous. Maybe because he stopped growth in other areas that was why he'd grown taller? Nothing made sense to Grifton any longer. "Well, whatever, I'll just take a nap." He got comfortable on his perch and fell into a light doze.
~*~
A group of people walked along a neatly patterned and clean cobblestone path. "Why are you looking for that black sheep of a child, Madam Murray?" One of the people inquired.
"I have some suspicions about his parentage, Director Eben," Madam Murray stated loftily. "It has come to my attention that rumors about strange beings have been teleported into our lands."
Director Eben repeated what she said with skepticism. "Strange beings teleported into the lands around here?" He sighed wearily. "You realize that has been floating around for quite a while?"
Madam Murray shrugged. "Nonetheless, I must speak with the child. I believe that there are discrepancies that need to be addressed." She glanced at the Director. "Why are you so hesitant about allowing me to see him? I was the one who attended him almost immediately after his birth."
There was startled silence from the others of the party. "I must confess, this is the first I've heard about this," another woman stated. "I heard that his mother was Clementina Rojas." She spoke with clear purpose. "I made it quite clear some time ago that I meant to adopt him and his cousins."
Uncomfortable silence settled over the group. "Ms. Lula, please don't be difficult about this subject." Director Eben sighed. "As you know, we don't accept adoption applications simply because of specious relation claims. There are more steps to the process."
"Such as what exactly is the problem?" Lula Cross huffed. "I've already proven I have sufficient income to house, clothe, feed, and educate the four." She added tartly. "I've waited more than enough time for everything to be validated. So, what is the hold-up?" Her eyes narrowed. "Did you even inform the children of my intent?"
A further uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
One of the others finally spoke. "None of the children were notified." It was the assistant of Director Eben. "That is simply because three disappeared some time ago, and no word indicates whether they're alive."
Lula was shocked. "I see."
Director Eben shrugged. "My other concern would be that Grifton Tinroy as the remaining child would be rejected." He regarded her. "You were always vehement that it had to be all four of them. You never made it clear whether you would only take one."
Madam Murray exhaled. "There is also some doubt about his origins. Ever since the first international competition, he's never manifested his abilities as a draconian inheritor." She shrugged. "Thus, more research must be done regarding his lineage."
"So, what if his parents did come into this world from another dimension?" Lula wasn't impressed. "If anything, it means new blood is being infused into the current world. From what I've heard, we've become dangerously inbred." She pointed out coldly.
"However, having unknown hybrids is dangerous." Madam Murray shook her head. "It might be necessary to sterilize him if it turns out he has negative impacts in the future."
The Director sighed. "Now, now, we agreed not to discuss that subject outside of the office," he reminded her tersely. "You don't know if ears are listening to the conversation." He glanced up into the trees. "Though there might not be right now, there will be later on the further we go towards the training facilities."
"Hmph," Lula Cross folded her arms. "It seems to me that now you're just jerking him around. Make him dance to some tune so you can sell everything stolen from his wares and keep the profit to yourselves."
Crack!
The aide had slapped Lula hard. "That was uncalled for, you nasty-tongued swine of a woman." He growled. "Maybe you want to take advantage of his ability to create superior goods."
Madam Murray pulled Lula back. "Hold your tongue, Ms. Cross. We shall talk privately after this." She scolded Lula.
The Director waved his aide to one side. "Aide Bensen, that is quite enough out of you." He warned his aide. "That was unnecessary violence. You shall be fined and suspended for two weeks without paid time off."
The remaining members of the group sighed and shook their heads. "I had wondered what you were doing," Lamberton muttered. "You're all wasting my time arguing and accusations about something completely fabricated."
Madam Murray stared at Lamberton. "What do you mean by that?"
"He is my nephew, as are his cousins." Lamberton shrugged. "Their sire, Tinroy, was one of my younger brothers." He folded his arms. "I'm going to recruit him into one of my merchant groups when right." He glowered at the others. "Don't even think about cheating him any longer if you want to remain in business." His threatening growl made all of them flinch.
They resumed their walk in cowed silence. It wasn't often that Lamberton made his presence known. However, this time, he'd staked a claim that wasn't going to be easy to disprove. The others would have their work cut out if they wanted to break his hold on the newest crafter who'd already proved his worth some time ago.
~*~
Thunderous black clouds obscured the skies above the pink rock and searing red cliffs. Below the threatening storm clouds, a small merchant group camped at a precious oasis in a steep cliff range. In one part of a cavern, there were several steaming pools. However, in one of the few extern areas, a series of steaming pools turned into waterfalls.
Grifton happened to sit in a relatively calm and lukewarm pool away from the others. He'd needed time away from them since they'd been yapping incessantly since discovering he was supposedly related to Lamberton.
An hour later, silence descended on the outer pools. Grifton had awakened to find that the entire area was overflowing, and the temperature had become extremely hot to scalding.
Boiling heated waters surrounded him as he desperately clawed to the surface of the maelstrom of a strange hot spring, he'd found during one of a merchant journeys.
"Do you think he survived the boiling temperatures?"
"How would that be possible?"
"It could only happen if he's of the draconic lineage."
"That's something out of a legend, right?"
"Well, if he does perish, we can use his wares well."
"Shh! Don't speak so loud, I think I hear him."
Damn right, they did. Grifton was indeed able to withstand the scalding temperature. Scales had been scalded off his body, but there were no visible burns or injuries inflicted upon his skin. He toweled off and dressed to prevent the cold from making him sick. Grifton had listened to them with utter disbelief and sighed. How did they expect him to trust them? He sure as hell hadn't done so before. Grifton shook his head in disgust. Now, he had even less reason to trust them in the future.
Even more so, Grifton knew better than to not watch his back, especially now that he knew they'd meant to abandon him in this strange place. A sigh escaped him. There was no point in trying to converse with them now that he knew their true motives.
Talk about blackhearted, greedy thieves. They gave Lamberton's merchant groups a bad name. Grifton would have to warn Lamberton about them in his subsequent transmission. "I'm heading inside to get some sleep."
Grifton rose to his feet. He ignored their glares of hatred at his back. After all, his sales were making the rest of them envious. This was his second merchant trip. It was even more prosperous than the first one had been. Grifton just hoped he could keep his good streak going.