CHAPTER 69: GROWING PAINS

Marcus woke to the sound of crying children and arguing adults—the usual symphony of too many people crammed into too little space.

Tim and Tam were wailing in perfect harmony while Father, Uncle Garrett, and Uncle Aldwin argued about the inadequacy of their new housing. Through the thin walls of their rented shed on the outskirts of Drakmoor, Grandfather's voice rose above the chaos, trying to calm everyone down.

"Marcus, wake up!" Tom shook his shoulder. "Today there's no Academy. After Professor Thaddeus became headmaster,

he cut study days to three."

Marcus groaned and sat up on his straw mattress. The burn wounds on his hands had almost completely healed. Sister Korra's healing power had really saved him. "Good morning, Tom. Yeah, I heard. Royal cuts must have increased."

"We have to do something," Tom said, his broad face creased with worry.

Why do we have to do something? Marcus thought bitterly. We're refugees living in shit houses, but we have to worry about everyone else? Because I'm cursed with this stupid switching mechanic. Why don't I have the power to create candy or soda? We could have been living happily.

"Yeah, we will," Marcus said aloud. "I'm developing ideas to grow mushrooms in abandoned warehouses. At least it fills our stomachs and pockets a little."

"Mushrooms?"

"Yeah, they grow fast and we can grow them in the city."

Tom scratched his head. "Marcus, they only grow in autumn and in the forest."

"Big Tom, trust me. I know a way. I want you to go to the edges of the woods and look for mushrooms. Try to pick ones that animals are eating, especially ones that look like leaves." he got up from the bed and continued.

"I already grew some mushroom spawn at Owen's warehouse."

"If you say so, brother." Tom's faith in Marcus never wavered, even when Marcus's ideas sounded completely insane.

They walked outside to meet the family. The shed was so small they could only sleep there. Everything else had to happen outside or not at all.

Mother Elara looked exhausted. "Marcus dear, me and your aunts have been worried ever since they released our family from Lord Varek's detention. They won't let us work in city owned places, or our old jobs."

Aunt Mira nodded grimly. "No one is hiring us."

"Your father and uncles are all working temporary, dangerous jobs," Mother added.

Marcus put a hand on her shoulder. "Mom, I know, but I'm bringing in enough now. Our business is stable enough that we can rent stalls at the Bazaar."

"Yeah, but we can't rely on only you. We want to contribute."

Marcus walked past his mother and called to everyone. "My family, if I can have a couple minutes of your time. I know you're all worried about our current situation and not finding jobs. But don't worry. I'm about to create jobs and find better living conditions. Just wait a couple weeks, please."

Grandfather stepped forward, his weathered face kind but concerned. "We trust you son, but remember you don't have to do everything all by yourself. We're with you."

"I know, Grandpa. Thanks."

Father Garrett crossed his arms. "Son, are you certain about creating jobs? These guilds are no joke. They have every political force to stop us refugees from doing anything meaningful."

"Don't worry about it, Dad. Any day now Commander Cain is bringing Lord Hammond to the capital. He promised a meeting with him. I'll convince him to invest in my ideas."

"We believe you son. If you need us, we'll be ready."

But Marcus was worried about the bigger picture. The city was getting surrounded. Lord Hammond's province had been evacuated. After Lord Varek's deal with Malachar ended, they were on the move. Another hundred thousand people were about to come to the city.

Drakmoor was already on the verge of civil war. Native born citizens showed more and more discrimination against refugees. Metal pin wearers those who supported sending refugees back to face Malachar were increasing in number.

After their supply line from Malachar for metals and minerals had been discovered and cut following Lord Varek's hanging, other countries couldn't provide enough food to sustain the giant city that couldn't produce enough for itself.

With those dark thoughts, Marcus arrived at their small stall in the Bazaar.

"Good morning, Marcus! How are you today?" Aldric said cheerfully, waving his papers to potential buyers. He was dressed neatly as ever, though his clothes were getting older every day.

"Thinking about stuff, actually. But fine. How are you?" Without waiting for an answer, Marcus turned to Sara, who was sitting unenergetically at their small table. "How are you, Sara?"

"Not good. I have nothing to do here. I don't understand why we can't sell soaps or oils anymore." She threw a fit, stood up, picked up a couple papers, and started waving them at passersby.

"Sara, we talked about this. Luxury items are for a stable city. We're on the verge of economic collapse. We'll do ads for the rich, get their money, and start other businesses that the city needs."

"Why do we have to? Let's produce those bombs and sell them to the kingdom. We'll be rich."

Marcus's voice turned serious. "We have to because they don't understand the situation yet. After Lord Hammond arrives, I'll make sure he opens up our concerns to the King. And for explosives we can't and won't sell them. If they figure out how to make them, there will be endless wars long after Malachar's dead."

"If he can be killed," Aldric said quietly.

"I'm thinking about that too."

"Yeah, I don't want to wave papers all day. Please find us better things to do," Sara complained.

"Sara, you wait here for customers. If anyone asks about ad rates, take note of their names."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Marcus made a downward thumb gesture and laughed. "You have an excellent mind for mechanical work, but business-wise..."

"Don't say that she saved us so many times," Aldric interrupted. "I remember one time she bought a whole batch of lye when—"

"You two lovebirds better find us a customer today, or this making fun of me will turn back on you," Sara said annoyed.

"Fine, fine. Let's go, Marcus. I found three potential business owners. Let's visit them."

The whole day, Aldric worked as a salesman while Marcus served as their specialist. They visited each business owner, explaining how their advertising worked for other businesses and how they could work wonders for them. By day's end, Aldric had signed two agreements and secured four silver pieces upfront thirty six when they deliver.

As they celebrated with Sara, they made plans to produce the new orders and used some of the advance money to buy ink products and wood.

When returning home, Marcus went to the abandoned warehouse Owen had given him for producing explosives. Now he was growing mushroom spawns instead. He checked the jars, emptied out the infected ones, and took the one with the most white growth.

Today had passed well for Marcus. Most of the time he was busy and had fun chasing customers with his friend. But as he was returning to his family's shed, he heard commotion coming from the city's east gates.

They've arrived, he thought. Commander Cain and all of Hammond's province. I'll get to them after they've rested.

Tonight, he would sleep in peace. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.