Old Hamm never lived to see the day when Green took a wife and started a family. He was laid to rest before that dream could come true.
It was an early spring morning, the bitter cold beginning to soften. After a day of hard work, Old Hamm and Green brought home a small keg of malt beer and a few pounds of meat from town, planning to begin their ambitious house renovation the next day. Finding Green a wife was also high on their agenda. But fate intervened—Old Hamm didn't wake up the next morning to call Green to work.
Old Hamm passed with a smile on his face, whether from the fine food and drink the night before or a dream where all his wishes had come true. When Green hired a few farmers to help bury him, the old man's face still bore that carefree, contented grin he always had in life. Even Old Hamm's cherished pipe was buried alongside him.
The sudden loss of Old Hamm left Green in a slump for days, but life trudged on. He inherited the two humble cottages, an old horse, and a sum of two gold coins and seventeen silver pieces—Old Hamm's lifetime savings and now Green's entire fortune. Of course, there was also the magical book "Nasal Reconstruction and the Atlas of Scents" that Green secretly stashed with the coins, poring over its pages each night under dim lamplight.
The seasons shifted, and summer arrived.
One ordinary day, after a busy morning, Green dumped the garbage left over from the previous night's banquet at the Viscount's estate outside the town. Then he collected the supplies from tenant farmers on the Viscount's lands. Seated leisurely on his cart, he gazed up at the azure sky, the clouds drifting lazily by.
Beside the cart, a country girl named Mary was deftly loading goods, her movements swifter than most boys'. She wore a coarse apron, her face freckled, and her golden hair bouncing lightly as she worked. Her heart pounded as she stole glances at Green, who sat nonchalantly on the cart. To her, he was devastatingly handsome, and the faint scent of him—like wild elvish herbs—made her heart race.
Green, however, paid her no mind. A year ago, he'd realized Mary liked him—Old Hamm had even confided in him about it, suggesting she would make a good wife. But Green never felt anything for her beyond a neighborly affection. Since Old Hamm's passing, he hadn't made any effort to engage with her, only seeing her when the routine work required it.
Mary, seeing Green's indifference, bit her lip and finally spoke up. "Green, this morning, a wizard passed through here! He even asked for directions to Bissel City. Everyone was stunned—I'd never seen a wizard before!"
Feigning excitement, Mary tried to gauge Green's reaction.
Green, who had been idly bored moments before, perked up at the mention of a wizard. "A wizard? Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'm sure! Everyone here saw him," Mary replied, delighted to have caught his attention.
Green's excitement grew. "What did he look like? Describe him!"
"Well…" Mary hesitated, trying to recall. "He wore a loose, gray robe and a tall hat. His face was hidden, as though shrouded in mist. He carried a frog with red eyes in his hand. Oh, and he spoke to Emma at the village edge."
Mary eagerly spilled everything she knew, watching Green's growing enthusiasm.
"Thanks," Green said, his voice brimming with excitement. Since discovering that magical tome six months ago, this was his first lead on a real wizard. Without hesitation, he dashed toward Emma's house.
Emma, a young woman in her early twenties with two children, greeted him with surprise. Her husband, Sogara, a brawny and jovial hunter, welcomed Green with a hearty laugh. "Well, if it isn't Green! What brings you here? Couldn't resist the smell of our kitchen, huh? Come in, come in—we just caught a wild boar yesterday."
Half an hour later, Green left the house, exhilarated and muttering to himself, "Bissel City… He really went to Bissel City!"
Hurrying back to his humble home, Green prepared his old cart and horse. The ancient beast seemed ready to collapse, but Green was too consumed by his newfound purpose to care.
Arriving at the Viscount's manor, he was greeted by the usual commotion—angry farmers crowding the gate, shouting grievances about oppressive taxes. The arrogant steward, flanked by four burly knights, snarled at them.
"Your lands are granted by the Viscount, and he may tax them however he pleases! You dare complain? Do you want to rebel?"
Green waited from a distance, knowing from experience that such disputes would inevitably end with the knights dispersing the crowd. Sure enough, after a few brutal moments, the farmers dispersed, grumbling but defeated.
Green tried to slip past with his cart, but the steward stopped him. "Halt! What took you so long? Do you even want this job?"
Green gritted his teeth, suppressing his anger. This pompous man had already taken two silver coins in bribes from him this month alone. While the work at the Viscount's estate paid decently, the steward's greed made it nearly unbearable.
"My apologies, sir," Green said curtly. "The farmers blocked the road earlier."
The steward turned red with fury. "You dare talk back, you insolent peasant? You're fired! Don't bother showing up tomorrow. If I see you again, I'll have the knights break your legs!"
Green seethed as the steward stomped off, already plotting revenge in his heart. But there was no time to dwell on it—his mind was fixed on the wizard.
By evening, Green had withdrawn every coin he owned, packed the magical tome, and set off for Bissel City. The journey was long, but Green's determination burned bright.
"I must become a wizard. I must!"