From Ashes To Scales

"Ah, travelers, where should I start then?" she said, her voice soft yet filled with life. "It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of such company."

“I think the best place to start would be the beginning.”

The granny chuckled, "Yes, yes, fair enough. Tell me, have you heard about the Fontaine Merchant Company?"

I furrowed my brow, recalling bits and pieces of information I had gathered during my lifespan.

"The Fontaine Merchant Company... isn't that the third most influential merchant company in this world?"

The old lady's eyes gleamed with pride.

"Yes, indeed. Alistair Fontaine built that company from scratch. Through sheer determination and relentless effort, he turned it into a powerhouse. The company deals with all sorts of goods, from rare spices and exotic fabrics to precious gemstones and fine wines. There's hardly a market they don't touch."

I nodded, impressed by the scope of the company's influence.

"I've heard of their reputation, but I didn't know much about the man behind it."

The granny sighed, a hint of sadness creeping into her expression.

"Alistair is a remarkable man, but he is currently facing a great trial. His daughter was struck by a mysterious illness during their travels. They are staying at a guest house in Bellvola, and all of Alistair's resources are being spent trying to find a cure for her."

When we heard those words, we all looked at each other but decided to remain silent and let her finish the story.

The old lady continued, "The town owes a lot to Alistair. His business brought prosperity and jobs to Bellvola. Out of respect and gratitude, the townsfolk have agreed that no ship will leave the port beyond the golf until his daughter is cured. It's their way of showing solidarity with his predicament. All efforts and resources must go towards his daughter."

"That's quite a burden for one man to bear.”

The granny nodded, her eyes distant as if lost in memories. "Indeed. But the people of Bellvola are steadfast in their support. They know that without Alistair, many of them would be struggling. It's a tight-knit community, and they'll do whatever it takes to help one of their own."

“If you don't mind me asking, what kind of illness is this?”

“The problem is… nobody knows. It reacts differently from everything doctors and scholars know. Even healing magic or potions don't seem effective against it.”

For a second I pondered. With such vague symptoms and description I can't tell much. By no means am I a doctor. But… the nerd in me is curious about this situation. Especially if magic doesn't work on it.

“Do you perhaps know if we would be allowed to see her?”

“Oh? Are you a doctor, young one?”

“Not exactly but I have my fair share of experience with magical anomalies.”

“There shouldn't be a problem. Alistair allows people to look at her in hopes that someone might figure out a cure. With appropriate security measures, of course. After all, if something is not done, eventually her life will end.”

“I see. In that case, thank you kindly for your time, Oba-san. We will take our leave.”

“Stay safe, travelers. I will pray that you can bring peace to Alistair.”

And with that we parted ways with the old lady.

------

“Master… are you perhaps thinking of saving her?” (Rusalka)

“For now I can't say. I just want to have a look at her. Without a proper examination I won't be able to tell if I can cure her or not. But fixing this child is the quickest way for us to be able to procure a ship.”

“I like the way you think, Magnus. Alright then. Follow me. I know exactly where this guy is. I stumbled upon that guest house while I’ve been searching for a ship.” (Rose)

Eventually, we reached the guest house. It stood at the edge of Bellvola, a quaint and elegant building that exuded a sense of refined tranquility. The structure was crafted from sturdy timber, its walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting various nautical scenes—ships braving stormy seas, and fishermen hauling in their bountiful catches. The roof was thatched, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.

The guest house had an air of quiet sophistication, with tall windows framed by rich, dark wood, allowing ample light to stream into the spacious interior. The entrance was marked by a beautifully crafted wooden door, its surface smooth and polished, hinting at the care and attention given to every detail of the place.

As I stepped inside, I was greeted by a warm, inviting ambiance. And what seemed to be a butler. The interior was a harmonious blend of comfort and elegance. The walls were lined with tapestries and paintings that told stories of the sea and the town's rich maritime history. A large hearth dominated one side of the common room, a roaring fire crackling within, casting a comforting glow and filling the space with a gentle warmth.

A staircase at the far end of the room led to the upper floors, where I assumed the private quarters were located. The banister was intricately carved, depicting a flowing pattern of waves and fish, a testament to the craftsmanship that went into every aspect of the guest house.

“I see. So you are travelers who wish to pay respects to master Alistair. As his servant I thank you for your sympathy. If you would please wait a moment I will go call master Alistair. No offense, but he won't allow just anyone to get close to his precious daughter.

He will judge for himself if you are worthy of being allowed in the presence of lady Charlotte.”

“That's perfectly understandable. We will wait as long as needed.”

My companions and I were guided to a comfortable seating area by this butler. Naturally, once we explained our reason for being here, our weapons were confiscated but we were assured that we would get them back once we left.

Now all that was left to do was to wait for this butler to announce our presence and meet this man. Alistair Fontaine. I only hope he isn't scary looking and will be reasonable to deal with.