Thud! Thud! Thud!
The heavy wooden door reverberated under the forceful knocks. In the small, thatched cottage, Green jolted awake from beneath a threadbare quilt. The icy numbness in his feet drew a sharp breath of cold air through his teeth, but he dared not delay. "Coming!" he called out.
Ignoring his near-frozen, unfeeling toes, Green swiftly pulled on his worn-out clothes and grabbed the leather coat draped over the quilt, which served as a makeshift extra blanket. Bracing himself, he opened the wooden door. The biting winter wind, laden with shards of ice, lashed at him, sending a shiver through his body.
Outside, old Hamm hunched on a rickety wooden cart. One hand gripped a whip, the other a smoking pipe he clamped between his teeth. The cart's wheels carved twin tracks into the uneven snow-covered ground.
"Move it! The roads are bad today, and if we're late, we'll catch hell," Hamm barked after exhaling a puff of smoke.
"I know," Green replied, hastily shutting the door behind him. He climbed onto the cart with practiced speed, unfazed by the grumbling old man. This had become routine ever since Green took up this steady job under Hamm's wing.
Hamm didn't speak much. After another long drag from his pipe, he cracked the whip with a sharp flick. The old horse snorted heavily, pulling the cart forward over the bumpy, snow-laden path. Leaning against the cart's battered railing, Green glanced at the still-dark sky and closed his eyes once more. He knew from experience that on snowy days like this, the rickety cart would take at least half an hour to reach the viscount's manor in Bisser City. By then, dawn would be breaking.
As the cart jostled along, Green breathed in the familiar scent of dried tobacco, feeling a deep sense of gratitude toward Hamm.
Orphaned as a child, Green had spent his early years wandering the streets of Bisser City with other orphans, surviving on scraps and begging. One day, the aging, childless Hamm noticed Green's quick wit and, perhaps moved by the boy's resourcefulness, decided to take him in. "When I'm gone, the cottage and this old horse will be yours," Hamm had said with a chuckle.
Though the humble thatched cottage and the decrepit cart were worth little, to Green, they meant everything. Hamm was nothing less than a second father to him.
Their livelihood consisted of daily trips to the viscount's manor before dawn. There, they cleaned up the remnants of the nobles' wild revelries, hauling away the heaps of trash left in their wake. Afterward, they would stock up on supplies for the next night's festivities before making their way back to the countryside—a routine that consumed most of their day.
After about half an hour, the cart's jolts smoothed as the road turned to cobblestones. Green, dozing lightly, awoke without needing Hamm's call. He knew they were nearing Bisser City, and soon, the viscount's manor would come into view. Quickly brushing the snow from his clothes, Green made a token effort to tidy himself.
While the nobles who occasionally lingered at the manor after their revelries seldom glanced at lowly workers like Green, the old butler of the viscount's estate was another matter entirely. A man of difficult temperament, he often used petty excuses like improper attire to extort silver coins from Hamm.
At the manor gates, two towering knight guards stood watch. Exhausted from their night-long vigil, they barely glanced at Hamm and Green, their familiarity spanning years. Hamm offered a polite smile, while Green kept his head down and hurried inside, heading straight for the grand hall that required their daily attention.
But today, the atmosphere felt different. Standing at the hall's entrance, the butler glared at them with his small, malicious eyes. Striding over, he hissed, "Stay here. Shut your eyes and block your ears."
"Yes, sir," Green and Hamm answered quickly, neither daring to question the command.
From within the hall, muffled voices filtered out—a girl's angry shouting, sharp and defiant. Instinctively, Green and Hamm recognized the source as someone of great importance.
Half an hour passed. By then, daylight had fully broken, and the two shivered in the snow outside, stamping their feet for warmth. The butler returned, his face dark as thunder. "If you can't take it, don't come tomorrow," he snapped.
Both Green and Hamm paled. Hamm hesitated for a moment before fishing a silver coin from his tattered clothing. Handing it over with a forced smile, he said, "We can manage. No problem at all."
"Hmph." The butler pocketed the coin with practiced ease and hurried back to the hall, leaving Green and Hamm standing in the snow.
"What a scoundrel," Green muttered under his breath. "He just took our money last time, and now he's at it again!"
"Let it go," Hamm sighed. "Plenty of people would kill for this job. The old butler would love to see us replaced."
Just then, the hall doors burst open, and a young girl stormed out. Her noble attire was exquisite, yet her tear-streaked face betrayed her anguish. She halted near Green and Hamm, shouting back into the hall, "I only want my brother Aelon! I won't go to Lily's Cottage, and I refuse to become a wizard!"
With that, she yanked a book from her arms and hurled it to the ground before striding away from the manor.
What followed left Green in disbelief. A rotund nobleman, face flushed with fury, stormed out of the hall, bellowing at two armored knights to give chase. Yet, to Green's astonishment, the usually imperious viscount trailed behind the portly man, bowing obsequiously as he tried to soothe his ire.
"She's throwing away the chance I spent a fortune to secure—a wizard's teachings, no less!" the nobleman raged. "Does she even comprehend what she's giving up? Half a year from now—"
Before the sentence could be finished, the nobleman and the viscount disappeared into the snowy expanse, leaving the courtyard eerily silent.
Seizing the moment, Green's gaze fell on the discarded book lying in the snow. Reaching for it instinctively, he was stopped by a sharp tap from Hamm's pipe.
"Are you mad?" Hamm scolded.
"But it's just trash now," Green argued, rubbing his stung hand. "If anyone asks, we'll say we threw it away with the garbage. It was the young lady who tossed it out, after all."
Hamm hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Green slipped the book into his coat and resumed cleaning the hall, which bore the usual aftermath of a nobleman's excess—heaps of refuse waiting to be carted away.
As they finished their work and set off with a cart full of trash, Green couldn't suppress his curiosity. Pulling out the book, he squinted at its title.
"On Nasal Augmentation and the Olfactory Spectrum? What in the world…"
To his surprise, the text described a peculiar branch of magic revolving around scent. As he deciphered the dense language, Green felt as if a new, enigmatic world was unfolding before him.
For the rest of the journey, he was absorbed in the book's strange knowledge, his imagination alight with questions about the mysterious world of wizards.