Lord of Mysteries: Goddess of Origin

"Mind if I come in?"

Darkwill fell into a daze momentarily. From her voice, he snapped. "Ah-A, yes! Come in."

The white-haired lady made her way to the counter. Lowering her sun hat below her abdomen, her eyes began to observe the interior of the shop.

Rows of vials containing powdered essentials, medicinal remains and plant stalks all are arranged neatly by the shelves. Followed by what seems to be Black-Rimmed sunflowers, Nightingale whorls and other herbs unbeknown to Selina are hanged by ropes. 

Clearing his throat, Darkwill inquired with a practiced tone. "Miss, How may I help you today?"

Returning her attention. Selina inquired modestly. "Are you perhaps the owner of this humble shop?"

Darkwill's guard went up. In this past weeks, he's aware that his shop is on the edge of rent and could possibly be repossess at any given time. Cautious, he replied with an honest tone. "I am... What can I help you?"

"Great." With a slight expectation masked by genial demeanor. She added in restraint. "Please forgive my directness but sir, I would like to apply as an assistant medicine-maker in this humble shop of yours."

Assistant!? Darkwill was immediately taken aback. His feet staggered from the shock.

With an unsteady voice, he declines. "M-Miss, I don't think I-"

"Oh, I believe I haven't introduced myself." Selina interrupted his words. Revealing a composed poise, she said. "My name is Selina Roy. A pleasure to meet you."

Darkwill paused for a moment. A slight hesitation surfaced within before grounding himself. "M-Miss Roy, my shop lacks necessary capital to afford a co-potion maker."

"..."

Seeing that the lady remained silent and attentive. He heaved a sigh of relief, before adding. "My shop haven't received a steady flow of customers. Leading to an unbalanced income. If I were you, I'd find a much suitable herb shop to apply..."

The suggestion seemed to reached the lady as her silence took over her delicate lips. Her eyes fixated over the counter board and onto her sun hat. Caressing its surface as if contemplating of something.

Yeah, that's right. Go find another place... But then again, maybe with her appearance... Darkwill shook his head inwardly before he turned his back to the lady, returning the glass bottles back to the rack.

"That's alright." 

A bolt coursed through his nerves. Darkwill immediately turned around, straining to confirm if what the lady's said was true.

Selina, with a polite smile, tidied a crease of her dress before she added. "Although payment is apart of my intentions of applying. It wasn't the sole purpose... I intend to learn and experience being a potion-maker."

"We can just push the paycheck for now... at least for this week."

Y-You want to learn being an apothecary through mentorship? Why me? Darkwill's eyes remained aligned towards the lady in front of him. Tring to figure out if the refined young woman have a hidden motive.

But after a minute, his guard gradually crumbled. Inwardly, he muttered, trying to justify the concept of having an assistant in the shop. I mean... She's the one who offered for a suspended wage for a week. She's breath-takingly beautiful... She can attract customers in due time! Maybe even increase its flow!

Assessing the viability of having an assistant. Darkwill puffed his chest and replied. "I'm sorry, but no."

It wasn't that the offer was reasonable, but rather, it was too convenient!

A beautiful lady of possibly from a lofty background can theoretically make his small business bloom in just a matter of time, suddenly crept into his store. To be precise, such 'good things' always follows an agenda.

Selina heaved a soft sigh.

"Very well." She said, donning her sun hat held by both of her hands.

Disappointment concealed by a soft smile. She turned towards the door, proceeding with habitual grace.

Darkwill observed the lady's steps as she gradually became closer to the door.

Scrunching his face, thoughts stirring into conflict between justification and moral dilemma.

He said with a slightly raised voice. "Trial..."

The silver-haired lady halted before the entrance.

"I won't accept your application hastily..." Darkwill released a breath, her turned around to face the white-haired lady. "But for this week, I can agree to your application in... a trial manner."

Selina felt a surge of relief. 

In an unhurried tone, a soft and gleaming face, she replied. "That won't be a problem, Mr. Darkwill."

After donning her sun hat, she resumed her steps.

The door's bell chimed in a resounding thud. The lady who applied to be his assistant, Selina, exited his shop and gradually vanish from its transparent bay windows.

Darkwill slumped to the counter, an effect from his fading facade. In silence of the shop and the distant passage of the galloping horses, he muttered. "What was I thinking...?"

...

Lawson's Folk Herb Shop soon disappeared from hindsight.

Upon returning to the station. Selina checked to ensure that the gun holster and the revolver were still intact before boarding a track carriage.

With detours and constant replenishing of passengers. Selina began to feel nauseate to the mixture of faint foul scents and random abrupt stops.

Soon, the track carriage halted before her intended destination.

She alighted mechanically from the carriage's wooden floor and spent a pence to the coachman then donned her sun hat once more afterwards.

The dock was completely comparable from her first arrival at the evening.

Workers in a hustle, transporting crates after crates deporting by the incoming boats and ships.

The majority of these workers were men, with burly bodies, robust arms and tanned skin with ruffled hairs either tied with a cloth from their foreheads or freely laid out. They carried out the task of unloading the ships that have docked.

While ladies of the working class toil their rugged hands in daylight by reeling fresh variety of fish from the cargo into the crates. The fishes will later be stored or batched to the city to be prepared into cuisines by the local vendors or restaurants. 

It wasn't long before Selina spotted the warehouse, the Evil Dragon's Bar.

Upon entering. The liveliness dulled from the scarcity of the customers. Regular folks lingers at the counter, only to descend the stairs that leads to the underground market afterwards.

Selina advanced forward. Stopping before Swain, on the other side of the counter.

The burly man who scoffed her, perceiving her as a newbie, was now handling a few glass of bottle containing alcohol beverages.

From when they met, she was cloaked by a shrouding garment. Now with her appearance exposed, she intends to court the bartender to accept her as their waitress.

According to her observation. The bar lacks proper management of the customers. Only relying on Swain at the counter and their respect for the bar to uphold an equilibrium in terms of customer services.

The naturality of bars garnering a variety of people made Selina consider the approach of becoming the bar's first waitress. Information about this world is what she currently lacks and actively seeks at the current moment and the carelessly circulating intel among the customer to their companies fits her convenience. 

The only variable she's concerned of is if this world adheres to her world's perception of maids.

She deduced this from the similarities of this world to hers. From the early Eastern style ranging from fashion, architectures, calendars and time. It won't be a surprise to learn that men would comparably prefer revealing garments of waitresses. 

Am I stressing myself too much? she mused. Taking her sun hat off before occupying an available stool. 

Across the counter, Swain immediately noticed the silver braid-bun haired lady, seated by a stool left from him.

Lost and want information... He silently commented, scoffing at the unexpected visit of the refined lady.

As a bartender and the owner of a bar. Swain paced over the counter to Selina and asked. "What can I get you?"

Selina faced Swain with an impeccable, soft gleam and replied. "Do you have a Fortified Grape wine?"

An Ingredient for the famous Half-and-Half beverage along with the Malt Beer. Locally serve in East Borough of Backlund, but certain bars around Tingen would also be aware of its concoction.

This was the favorite of her father because of its reduced alcohol intensity and soothing flavor of the mixture. Able to maintain his sober while enjoying a hint of beer.

Swain didn't respond. 

He took out a bottle, its cylindrical mouth longer than its base, and poured some of its contents into a glass cup.

After returning the bottle, Swain pushed the liquor to Selina with mild force.

I didn't think they have it... Selina mused inwardly, slightly taken aback.

"That will be nineteen soli." Swain said with a stern voice.

Nineteen... She echoed Swain's wording of the price. If I continue to spend like this... The year wasn't ended yet but my finances will be depleted. 

Realizing her thoughts, she mocked herself inwardly, I'm talking like I don't have a million pounds in my name...

Selina scoured her dress that now features a small compartment. Taking out a few notes and handing them to Swain.

After receiving the payment. The burly bartender turned his back to Selina, retracting his attention to the sorting of each liquor bottles.

Half an hour passed by, and Selina quietly circles her finger over the glass's rim throughout the time.

Swain's brows twitched at the woman's unusual behavior. She ordered a beverage, only to silently observe or possibly mesmerize by the liquor's surface.

Just as he intends to approach. Selina swiveled her head towards him.

With a genial smile, she asked. "Mr. Swain, If I may be blunt but... your bar seems to lack staffs for services."

"For instance, a waiter or a waitress." she added.

Swain suddenly went silent. His thoughts unknown, but his puzzlement was subtly inscribed over his face.

After a moment, he replied in a grave tone. "We don't hire them..."

Selina mouth twitched from his response. I haven't even proposed my application yet...

"Why?" She inquired, putting the glass of Grape Wine aside. "Having an additional assistance could really increase your work ra—"

"No." Swain interrupted. Resorting the bottles in the rack.

"..." Selina held herself timely. Hands intertwined underneath the counter.

With a solemn voice, Swain added from the lady's silence. "If you won't drink your liquor, you can leave them there."

I really want to babble my mouth to convince him... Selina internalized her frustration. Heaving a long breath, she settled. But I think that will only be begging... Also, he seems to be a person who really upholds his ground.

Minding her mannerism. Selina recovered her poise and said languidly. "I understand..."

Swain remained undisturbed. Attention focused objectively on his task.

"But I would still present my interest on becoming the waitress of this bar." Selina revealed a soft smile at Swain.

Underneath his breath, Swain scoffed almost unnoticeably.

Just so you know, I'm quite persistent... Selina mused inwardly, not daring to blurt her words out. It's a trait of mine that got me the position of a secretary!

Intending to only remain for an hour, Selina became aware of her stay.

After leaving the stool and donning her sun hat, she smiled at Swain. "I will return..."

The burly bartender didn't bother to face her.

How can I persuade him? She questioned internally.

Just as she proceeds to exit the establishment. She caught a fragment of a conversation from the table near the center.

The two customers exchanged rumors to each other. Appearing to be hushed but in reality, audible.

"Yeah, there were many people who arrived in the city yesterday compared to the day after." The man with a dirty linen shirt and a blue jeans respond hoarsely.

Taking a gulp of his malt beer, the man across from him, wearing an identical jeans and linen shirt, with sleeve curled to his arm, satirized his words. "Many people who arrived? Why are you so concerned with such rumors when you should be minding your own business."

Increased in arrivals... Selina subconsciously recalled the cults back from Milo.

The cult certainly put great importance on her, especially since she's the only vessel suitable for their goddess's descent.

They're clearly resourceful as a group, evident by their utilization of mystical objects. Their scope of influence is what currently eludes her.

Tingen is the only city close to Milo... And the fluctuation of people arriving, whether it's a group, could hint at my discovery... Her fingers tightened the crease of her dress.

I may be being paranoid... But any information in this world is valuable to a foreigner like me. Selina's thoughts spiralled by the moment.

As she stands by the rows of tables, she whispered. "I haven't even settled for a moment... and now I'm forced to relocate again..."

The promised trial for assistant herbalist. The determined effort of persuading a bartender. All of it was in vein.

Nonetheless, she proceeds to leave the bar with facade composure. Taking a public carriage afterwards.

...

Upon returning to 16 Daffodil Street. Selina briskly entered her rented terraced house.

Mr. and Mrs. Heath are absent by the yard next to hers. Presumably busy with their daily lives.

While at the corridor. Selina took note of the time indicated by the grand clock: "2:56."

Those carriage trips really took a lot of time... She grumbled inwardly, ascending a flight of stairs from the corridor.

After arriving in the bedroom. Her body slumped over the gentle covers of the mattress, head facing the ceiling.

With small remaining time, she began to promptly recall the personal exchange of the two customers from the Evil Dragon's Bar.

The fragment of conversation they've had might seem indifferent to others. But to Selina, a sudden fluctuation may indicate incoming danger.

Paranoid or not... Being cautious is still a trait, what may be casually dismissed can lead to consequences. She muttered, subconsciously arched her arm to her face.

Those cults seems to be resourceful, I shouldn't underestimate them and their capabilities. Even now, they might already had my location and are preparing to retrieve me... But why take the station? Don't they have influence over cities that foster information? 

With a question, she immediately responded to herself. "And their skin... Are they from the South Continent?"

At that moment, a blinding crimson light shrouded the gloomy interiors of her room. Promptly interrupting her thought and engulfing her in the process.

...

In a grand edifice, resembling a palace of giant's court stood lofty amidst the ever-coursing gray mists.

On the center, it houses a long bronze table containing twenty-two seats, with the head being occupied by an individual heavily obscured by the gray fog.

The crimson light receded and three individuals stood firm on the first few seats. Two on the right and one on the left.

The two ladies curtsied at once before the figure at the head of the table.

In unity, they echoed. "Good afternoon, Mr. Fool"