On the hallway wall, separated from the dining room by a single partition, a family tree of the Augustus line was written in special dyes. Jenkins rembered hearing about it in the viscount's final mories; his father and grandfather had created it together.
He ran his hand along the wall, his fingers tracing the nas from the first illustrious entry on the left side of the corridor to the last, familiar one. There was no one left to bear witness to their history.
After a mont of idle sentint, the man and the cat resud their aimless wandering, Jenkins keeping his Eye of Reality constantly active.
It wasn't until he erged from the food cellar that he rembered the estate also had an underground library—the very place where the copy of the Devil's Docunt had been found.
The library was located directly beneath the manor's main hall, its entrance concealed within a guest room. Because it had been built so long ago, the chanism relied not on steam-powered machinery but on a more primitive system of gears.
The library itself wasn't particularly large. After summoning a sphere of starlight for illumination, he could see the entire room from his vantage point on the stone steps leading down. What also caught his eye was an object embedded in one of the walls, shining with a yellow spiritual light.
"Do you think I should take it?"
He turned and asked the cat, who was perched at the entrance, peering down at him.
"ow~"
Unfortunately, Jenkins didn't speak cat.
He mulled it over. Taking the item wouldn't harm anyone's interests. In fact, he reasoned, if the next owner of this estate was an ordinary person, leaving a supernatural object behind might only bring them trouble. With that, his hesitation vanished.
The intensity of the spiritual light told him it was just behind the wall's surface. He first heated the spot with fire, then rapidly cooled it with a Frost Punch. Focusing his mind, he used Psychography to sketch a chisel into the air and began chipping away at the wall. He soon discovered a small, square compartnt hidden behind a bookshelf.
Standing on his toes, he reached inside, his fingers exploring the inner walls of the compartnt. A few minutes later, he had retrieved two necklaces, three tiaras, a bracelet, seven or eight rings, more than a dozen assorted gold coins, and four bangles.
Each item was housed in its own exquisite velvet-lined box, which was then wrapped in waterproof oilcloth. Thanks to this careful preservation, everything remained pristine despite the passage of many years.
They were all antiques—the sort of cumberso adornnts ancient nobles would wear to display their status. Jenkins's target was a particular gold necklace. Its pendant was a rare black gemstone set in a honeycomb-like silver casing.
Engraved letters circled the outer edge of the silver casing, but they were impossible to read in the dim light. He conjured so blue ink, dipped the pendant into it, and then used a piece of paper he had on him to make a rubbing of the inscription.
Under the silvery glow of his light sphere, the rubbing revealed slender, ancient characters with the distinct characteristics of the 10th Epoch. Unfortunately, the script was long lost to history, and no one living could translate it.
He stuffed the velvet-lined boxes into his pockets. Then, with a casual wipe of his hand over the hole in the wall, he perfectly filled the gap with a conjured patch. He felt little guilt about taking the items; legally speaking, the estate was without an owner until the auction house officially took possession on Sunday.
Chocolate let out a wide yawn.
Ding-a-ling~
The bell above the door chid as Jenkins, having just paid his cab fare, pushed his way into Pops Antique Shop.
"I thought I told you there was no need to co in," Papa Oliver said. "You should be preparing for your trip."
The old man was sitting in his rocking chair by the fireplace, a pair of spectacles perched on his nose and a pencil in hand, poring over a manuscript. It was the first draft of "Frozen"; Jenkins needed soone to offer so feedback.
"My bags are mostly packed," Jenkins replied. "I'm here about sothing else."
He took off his hat and tossed it onto the counter, then set Chocolate down on the rug in front of the fireplace. After a nervous glance toward the door, he began pulling the items from his pockets.
"Why are you acting so furtive... Good heavens, did you rob a jewelry store?"
He was joking, of course. Having just co into an inheritance, Jenkins would have to be mad to do sothing so foolish.
Papa Oliver set aside the manuscript, retrieved his monocle, and leaned over the counter to begin his appraisal. The items were undoubtedly genuine, but Jenkins was stunned to learn their history could be traced all the way back to the 16th Epoch.
Even the most carefully preserved gold and silver jewelry rarely remains pristine after several millennia. For that reason, even the most destitute of old nobles would seldom sell their family heirlooms unless they were on the brink of starvation. It was the one thing they could still hold over the nouveau riche—a true, historical legacy.
"Are you in need of money?" Papa Oliver asked, changing the subject.
"Not at all."
The money he'd made from selling... contraband... was more than enough to tide him over until the inheritance was finalized.
"Then keep them," Papa Oliver advised. "Antiques like these are hard to find on the market. The right thing to do is to hold onto them and pass them down to the next generation. Besides, you'll need a set for when you get married... Alright, alright, I won't ntion it. Don't give that look. And stop your cat from scratching my rug. Now, tell , where did these co from? Why does fate always seem to favor you so?"
There was no need for secrecy, so Jenkins told him the whole story. At the sa ti, he took out the black gemstone necklace and asked Papa Oliver to help him research it.
Trying to uncover the purpose of a magical item on one's own was an incredibly dangerous affair. Ever since he'd been forcibly invited to the Gem Assembly just by rubbing the lid of a pot, he no longer dared to carelessly interact with potentially hazardous artifacts.
Papa Oliver's moral compass was, it seed, perfectly aligned with Jenkins's. He saw nothing wrong with taking the items from the estate. He simply told Jenkins to be patient and wait a few days; he should have the results of the appraisal before he left Nolan.
That evening, Jenkins arrived at Audrey's ho as invited. Tonight was to be his first astrology lesson, a fact he had almost forgotten.
Chocolate, of course, had accompanied him. Audrey's maid had even prepared a soft cat bed for him, much like a bassinet, but Chocolate preferred to simply sprawl on the sofa and watch the two humans.
"Even though you'll be leaving Nolan for a while, we can't let our divination lessons fall behind," Audrey said.
"I thought it was astronomy?"
He only dared to think the question, not say it aloud. Instead, he mimicked Audrey, sitting cross-legged on the rug.
Today, she wore a white robe with silver patterns, emblazoned with the holy symbol of the Hermit of Fate. It made the entire scene feel quite formal, and Jenkins suddenly felt underdressed. He was wearing his usual attire: a brown, insulated vest over a white shirt.
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