"Electricity, Nikola," Spark cooed, perched on the windowsill of Kim's inn room, the morning sun catching the faint sparks that danced around its form. "It is… in your essence. A resonance. Like a hidden spring waiting to be tapped."
Kim, who now responded to Nikola when Spark used the name, tilted his head, considering. "Electricity, in my… essence?" He recalled the images flashing in his mind – the arcing light, the focused beam, the crackling energy. "I perceive… a conceptual familiarity. But practical application… remains undefined."
"Patience, Nikola," Spark chuckled, a soft, rumbling coo. "First, you learn to channel the spark. Then, you shape the lightning. And where does one learn such things in this… quaint world?" Spark hopped off the windowsill, circling Kim's head once before landing gently on the table, nudging a stray **Copper Penny** with its beak. "Books, Nikola. Scrolls. The written word. That is where humanity stores its…accumulated wisdom. Even in a world brimming with… inefficiencies."
Following Spark's guidance, Kim ventured out in search of arcane knowledge. He asked discreetly amongst the market vendors, his inquiries leading him to a small, unassuming shop tucked away in a quieter side street, a hand-painted sign above the door creaking gently in the breeze: "Eldrune's Emporium of Esoteric Curiosities."
The shop was narrow and dimly lit, shelves crammed with dusty tomes, strange-smelling herbs in glass jars, and curious trinkets of indeterminate purpose. The air hummed with a faint, musty, yet subtly magical aroma. Behind a cluttered counter, a man with a wispy beard and spectacles perched precariously on his nose was meticulously polishing a tarnished silver candlestick. He looked up as Kim entered, a wide, welcoming smile spreading across his face.
"Welcome, young sir! Welcome to Eldrune's! Come in, come in! Don't be shy!" He bustled forward, wiping his hands on his apron, his enthusiasm almost comically disproportionate to the humble size of his shop and the lack of other customers. "Eldrune himself, at your service! And what esoteric curiosity might I assist you with today? A rare grimoire? A potent potion ingredient? Perhaps a self-stirring cauldron for the discerning alchemist?" He gestured around the empty shop with a flourish. "As you can see, it's not exactly…overcrowded today. Which means," he leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a stage whisper, "I can give you my _undivided_ attention. And, naturally, the most… _personalized_ service."
Kim observed the shopkeeper, Eldrune, with a steady gaze, his mind noting the man's eagerness, his slightly exaggerated welcome, the subtle air of… desperation beneath the forced cheerfulness. "I seek… knowledge," Kim stated plainly. "Specifically, knowledge pertaining to… magic. Electric manipulation, if available."
Eldrune's eyes lit up behind his spectacles. "Electric manipulation! Excellent choice, young sir, excellent! A most… dynamic field of study! Though perhaps," he lowered his voice again, glancing around the empty shop as if expecting eavesdroppers, "a tad…uncommon in these parts. Still! Knowledge is knowledge! And Eldrune's Emporium prides itself on catering to… _all_ esoteric pursuits!"
He gestured towards a section of shelves crammed with rolled scrolls. "Scrolls, scrolls! The ephemeral wisdom of ages, captured in convenient, portable form! Scrolls are excellent for… immediate application. Complex incantations, potent spells, ready to unleash at a moment's notice! Though," he added with a slight frown, tapping a finger against his chin, "they are, alas,… temporary. One use, and their magic… dissipates. And, of course, they require a certain… familiarity with magical principles to properly… _wield_."
He then gestured towards another, dustier section, filled with bound books, their spines cracked and faded. "Books, on the other hand! Ah, books are the true foundation of… enduring knowledge! Within these venerable pages lie the secrets of the ages, the patient accumulation of magical understanding! Books require… dedication, diligence, assiduous study! But the knowledge gained… becomes _yours_. Integrated. Permanent!"
Kim considered the scrolls and the books, his mind weighing the immediate gratification of temporary power against the long-term investment of true understanding. "Books," he decided, his voice firm. "Books on… fundamental principles. And… practical applications. Specifically, electric magic suitable for… neophyte practitioners."
Eldrune beamed, rubbing his hands together with evident delight. "Excellent, excellent! A wise choice, young sir! Foundation first, then… pyrotechnics later! Allow me to present… '_Sparkling Starters: Electric Tricks for Budding Thaumaturges_'!" He produced a slim, brightly illustrated volume from a lower shelf. "A charming introduction to electric manipulation for… younger learners! Teaches basic sparks, static cling enchantments, minor illumination spells… all perfectly safe, naturally, when practiced with… _reasonable_ caution." He winked again. "And the author, a certain Mr. Xiang, is quite renowned in… certain circles."
Kim examined the book, noting the clear diagrams, the simple instructions, the engaging tone. It seemed… elementary, but precisely what he needed. "And for… foundational theory?" he inquired.
Eldrune, delighted by his customer's scholarly bent, puffed out his chest. "Ah, for foundational theory, you require… '_Arcane Axioms: A Primer of Elemental Principles_'!" He produced a thicker, more imposing tome, its cover bound in worn leather, its pages yellowed with age. "A classic, young sir! A veritable cornerstone of magical education! Explains the fundamental forces, the flow of mana, the… synergistic interactions between the elements! Essential reading for any aspiring mage!"
Kim carefully calculated the cost of the two books. Eldrune, sensing a sale, offered a "most generous" discount, but even with the reduction, the total consumed almost all of Kim's marmalade earnings, leaving him with only three **Bronze Bits** jingling in his pocket. He paid without hesitation. Knowledge, he knew, was the most valuable investment he could make.
Eldrune, beaming, wrapped the books in brown paper, handing them over with a flourish. "An excellent choice, young sir! And allow me to offer a small… _complimentary_ piece of advice, from an old mage to a… promising novice." He leaned in conspiratorially again. "Electric magic, you see… has a certain… _affinity_ for… volatile substances. Especially in… less-than-pristine environments. Sewers, dung heaps, stagnant pools… avoid practicing your… _sparkling starters_ near such locations. Unpleasant… _incidents_ have been known to occur. Explosions, you see."
Kim's eyes widened, a spark of scientific recognition igniting within him. "Combustible gases…ignited by electric discharge, Methane" he murmured, understanding dawning. "Precisely," Eldrune chuckled, pleased by his young pupil's quick grasp of the concept. "A… salutary safety tip, wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed," Kim replied, a faint smile touching his lips. "Thank you, Master Eldrune. Your… complimentary advice is… most appreciated." He tucked the books carefully under his arm and departed, Spark fluttering onto his shoulder as he stepped back into the sunlit street, his mind already racing with the possibilities contained within the worn pages.
Meanwhile, in Vixen, Aldric emerged blinking into the afternoon sun, sore, hungry, and thoroughly chastened. The village guard had released him with a stern warning and a cuff to the ear, depositing him unceremoniously at the edge of town. As he limped through the streets, his stomach growling in protest, a gruff voice hailed him.
"Oi, you! Orphan-boy! You lookin' for work?"
Aldric turned to see a wiry old man with a weathered face and a placard tucked under his arm, surrounded by a small group of equally rough-looking individuals. "Work?" Aldric croaked, his throat dry.
"Aye, work! Voice like a rusty hinge, but loud enough, eh? Can you shout?" the old man demanded, eyeing Aldric appraisingly.
"Shout?" Aldric repeated, confused.
"Slogans, boy! Slogans! Against the Merchant's Guild, the thieving dogs! Against Tariff Act! Ruin'n honest folk, they are!" He thrust the placard into Aldric's hands. "Learn these words, shout 'em loud, get two silvers and a hot meal tonight. Deal?"
Desperate for food and a temporary purpose, Aldric nodded, his weariness overriding his pride. He spent the afternoon hoarsely shouting slogans against merchant tariffs, his voice cracking, his body aching, but the promised coins and the aroma of roasting stew kept him going.
As dusk settled, the old man led his small band of protesters to a rough tavern, paying for a communal stew. Aldric, famished, ate with a fervor that belied his earlier hesitation. And it was there, amidst the clatter of bowls and the grumbling complaints about tariffs, that he saw it.
A small pottery bowl, filled with a glistening, golden preserve, being enjoyed by a woman at a nearby table. The aroma… was Intriguing.
"What's that?" Aldric mumbled, nudging the old man beside him.
The old man glanced at the bowl. "That? Fancy fruit mush. Marmalade, they call it. Some young lad's selling it in Bersley market. Doing right well for himself, they say."
"Bersley?" Aldric repeated, his heart quickening. "What… what lad?"
"Dunno his name," the old man shrugged, digging into his stew. "Owl-eyed kid, they say. cheeky one. Bureaucratic, some say, even at that age! But makes a damn fine fruit mush, I'll give him that."
Aldric's mind raced. "Owl-eyed… cheeky…" Could it be…?
He approached the woman who was still savoring the marmalade, his voice hesitant. "Excuse me, ma'am? That… that marmalade you're eating… the boy who sells it… do you know… anything about him?"
The woman looked up, wiping her mouth with a napkin, her expression softening as she took in Aldric's weary face. "Just that he's a clever lad from Bersley market," she replied kindly. "Makes the best marmalade I've ever tasted. And… yes," she chuckled, noticing Aldric's intent gaze, "he does have rather… striking eyes. Like a little owl, come to think of it."
Bersley. Owl-eyed. Marmalade. Hope, sudden and fierce, surged through Aldric's weary body. Kim. It had to be Kim. He wasn't lost. He wasn't in danger. He was… in Bersley. Just two hours away, the woman had said.
Suddenly, the aching muscles, the lingering humiliation of his lockup ordeal, seemed to fade into insignificance. He devoured the rest of his stew, his hunger now replaced by a different kind of craving – the yearning to see Kim again, to understand his path, to perhaps… join him. Hope, like a small spark in the darkness, had been rekindled. And Aldric, for the first time that day, felt a glimmer of… joy.