"The Antak and Quake families are both mortal houses with long lineages. Over such vast stretches of ti, it's inevitable that they would co into contact with certain secrets, and nobles are among those most susceptible to the temptations of evil gods or other malevolent forces. Jenkins, what happened tonight was a very serious incident. I trust you understand the implications of the information you've brought us."
"It ans those two families are about to be erased."
"That's only one aspect of it. More importantly, it ans that after all these years, mortals once again dare to touch the forbidden realms of the supernatural."
Papa Oliver shifted the candlestick slightly, its light now falling upon the skeletons and malevolent spirits depicted on the right side of the painting.
"In the ancient eras, when aberrations road the world, Enchanters built towers, took on apprentices to pass down their knowledge, and adventurers traveled the lands in search of treasure... In those days, the supernatural was not hidden. Even common folk knew of these extraordinary powers. But that created its own problems. We, as Enchanters, understand the need to fear the supernatural. Greedy commoners, however, know no such fear, and that ignorance leads to many terrible things..."
The candlestick moved again, its glow now revealing the figures of Jenkins, his animal companions, and his colleagues on the left side of the canvas. Their faces were artistically obscured to protect their identities, but Jenkins's silhouette, standing upon the scorched earth, was the clearest and most prominent of all.
"Later, as the aberrations declined and the frequency of A, B, and C-class incidents and items decreased, the Twelve Orthodox Churches signed the first version of the High Tower Accord with the secular powers to protect and restrain this world. The modern version has been revised countless tis over many long Epochs."
In the painting, the cat in the sky was not particularly conspicuous. Beside the eagle and the cat was a depiction of the cosmos, with starlight painted in brilliant blues, representing the Star Spirits.
"Now, soone has deliberately broken this accord, and has done so with appalling boldness, signing a contract directly with those terrifying things... Jenkins, events always seem to drift in directions we least desire. We must be ready. This world is on the verge of chaos."
Whether the world would descend into turmoil didn't much affect Jenkins at the mont; he was more concerned with having to wake up early the next day to help transport goods to the antique shop.
At breakfast, he was pleased to hear that a demigod from the Church of the Starry Sky and Equilibrium had visited the Legacy Sage Church in the middle of the night and aided the two diviners. Audrey and Broniaons were now awake, though their spirits were low.
Before leaving the church, Jenkins spoke with them for a while about the previous night's events, naturally recounting the version of the story written in his official report.
The diviners did not question Jenkins's account; they were still in need of rest. Even without directly confronting the boy, Peter, the shadow that had enveloped them from beyond their world had severely damaged their health and minds.
It would take so ti for them to recover fully. The one silver lining was that the records for A-04-1-6671 would finally include an account of survivors who had "opened the wrong door," which would, to so extent, help those who ca after them.
Upon arriving at the antique shop that morning, he first updated Papa Oliver on the diviners' condition, then set off with his cat, accompanying the horse-drawn cart loaded with goods.
The exhibition was to be held at the Byron Art Gallery in the city center, on the sa street as the Goldensparrow Auction House. Jenkins sat with the driver on the wooden shaft extending from the front of the cart. The driver gently shook the reins, keeping the horse at a slow pace. As it was a Friday morning in the city's core comrcial district, the streets were bustling with pedestrians.
Jenkins spotted a young flower seller falling far behind the cart. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began stroking Chocolate's head with rapid motions.
The cat, quickly annoyed by this treatnt, pawed at Jenkins's hand. After a desperate but failed attempt to suppress his impulse, Jenkins's eyes snapped open.
"Sorry, I need to buy sothing. You go on ahead with the cart. I'll find you inside shortly."
He said this to the driver, and after receiving a reply of "Alright, sir," he hopped down from the cart. The vehicle was moving so slowly that the jump, while risky, wasn't particularly eye-catching. Cradling the grumpy cat in one arm, the man moved through the fog-shrouded, stone-paved street. On either side stood gray stone buildings of varying heights, their walls adorned with a tangled web of steam and drainage pipes, like tallic vines.
He soon found the little flower seller, who was waiting for a break in the flow of people to cross the street. Jenkins sighed, walked over, and called out to her. He then pointed to an alley about thirty feet away, motioning for her to follow him there to talk.
It was obvious the scrawny little girl was afraid of Jenkins, despite his handso features and the adorable cat in his arms. But in the end, the gesture he made to indicate he would pay her swayed her. Biting her lip, she slowly followed Jenkins into the alley.
The alley Jenkins had chosen was more of a grimy nook between buildings ant for trash disposal, as a brick wall blocked the way a short distance in. The trash had apparently been collected in the last few days, so the ground was relatively clean, but a sharp, sour stench still lingered in the air.
"I want to buy your flowers," Jenkins stated plainly.
The flower seller kept her head down, avoiding his gaze, and gave a faint "Mm."
The man nodded, gestured for his cat to stay still, and began to dig through his pockets for money. Since this was an impromptu trip to escort the delivery, Jenkins wasn't carrying much cash, but thankfully he had so loose change for everyday use. He counted out just under eighteen shillings, smoothed out the crumpled banknotes, stacked them by denomination, and placed the handful of copper pence and a single silver shilling on top.
"See if this is enough."
He held the money out to the girl.
She instinctively took a step back, then bit her lip as she looked at the cash in Jenkins's hand. Finally, as if having made a montous decision, she nodded.
"It's more than enough, sir."
Her voice was crisp and clear, filled with the innocent timbre of a child who had not yet co of age.
"Good."
He kept the money extended. Seeing that the girl made no move, he beckoned with his left hand. "Can you give the flowers, then?"
"Huh?"
The flower seller looked confused, staring at Jenkins's hand as if she didn't understand. Then, with a sudden gasp, she quickly gathered all the flowers from her basket and tried to hand them to him. But her hands were too small, and in the end, it was Jenkins who reached out and took them all from her.
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