Chapter 41:
Transmigrated Into a Noble's Beaten Son
There were times when Naell found himself sleepier than usual, yet there were rarer times where his energy to awake knew no bounds--- that was not one of those times.
As the end of Autumn was slowly approaching, so was the end of their examinations. To Naell, this was a forewarning that preparations for the cultural festival were drawing near in Esuela dio sa de.
Every class was to prepare one artistic presentation to showcase for the people who would be entering the school.
For most, this meant a joyous event, but as someone who disliked social gatherings, Naell found himself lacking energy as those days would soon be upon them.
Begrudgingly, he was already assigned a duty to partake in, and with the owl’s growing excitement for the event, he knew there was no more room for negotiation.
The morning had just crept in his window when he finally got up and turned to his bedside cabinet; an unraveled scroll, a thin red ribbon, and a serene flower all laid atop it.
Upon cleansing and changing into his usual get-up, Naell then took hold of the flower from his desk, and started murmuring.
Mana slowly began circling him, making parts of his hair begin to flutter. The room’s ambiance became more serene, even while Owly’s sleeping face twitched from the soothing feeling of Naell’s mana.
The tips of his fingers then lightly glowed as small bits of ice and snowflakes began circling around the bright yellow flower.
Naell had been practicing this lately, and was therefore now careful enough to not damage a single petal. Yet on his first trial, he had placed too much ice on the poor flower’s petals, weighing far more than its stem could handle.
“Forgive me Lillies, but those experiments will now certainly make one of you happy.’’
When the flower finally glimmered an icy hue, while still being predominantly as yellow as it was, Naell finally let out a smile.
“Hopefully that’ll last till Beryldot. Well, hopefully longer.”
Upon loosely rolling the scroll and gently placing the flower inside it, he then tied the ribbon around the scroll and created a container of ice to hold the parchment inside.
'I better deliver this then.' He thought while putting on a large dark coat. Naell, of course, regardless wouldn’t feel cold, yet back on earth he was always fond of clothes for the winter.
The morning had grown much colder, yet the busy folks of Taglagas worked seemingly uncaring for the weather. As he exited the dormitory, he noticed some students were already awake, clearly excited to begin their preparations. He could not help but shiver at the sight.
The center circle where nobles resided, and where the school was located, was far more peaceful than the busy streets of the inner circle.
Beings of different races were already bustling for works such as the adventurers, employees of different businesses, and of course, tradesmen like the man whom Naell would be meeting that day.
He had met several tradesmen from Taglagas that would often frequent Beryldot by carriage. Particularly upon meeting them, he recognized one man’s face from far-back, as he truly was often in Naell’s home-town.
In other circumstances, he would have simply let Owly bring the letter to the tradesman before he’d leave. Yet the scroll’s container was too slippery for the owl’s claws to grasp (not to mention, said owl was still asleep) and so he decided to simply deliver it himself.
.
.
.
Upon seeing Naell, the tradesman quickly bowed down smiling as he said,
“Great to see you again, Young master Naell. Where’s Owly?”
"It's great to see you too, Mr. Talus. And like always, Owly’s still asleep."
"Ahhh, then please do give these sweets later, as I promised..." Said Mr. Talus as he handed a bag containing cubes of sweet custards called yema, and several other sweets.
Mr. Talus was one of the few people Naell and Owly trusted when it came to the bird’s ability to talk.
He was a man in his forties, rather flabby for a tradesman, yet a mark of experience and success could be seen in his almond eyes. His brown mustache and beard were trademarks Naell could see even from a distance.
He and Naell actually got acquainted due to the young master saving a village from a goblin invasion including them in the process.
It also turns out that Mr. Talus and Baron Fharom go way back, as both of them met as novices in their respective fields.
“I have another letter I would like you to send." Naell said as he then handed over the container of ice, which the tradesman flinched from before realizing it was by no means cold.
“No problem, Young master." Replied Mr. Talus, doubtful that the ice would last.
He also noticed that Naell's eyes were locked onto the bags of ingredients and types of equipment loaded onto his carriage. It was far more plentiful than what they would usually carry back.
"If you’re wondering, Beryldot’s got a lot of people coming over for a food festival this week.” Said Mr. Talus, impressed with Naell’s observant eyes.
He then patted a bag behind him before continuing on,
“Most of these are just for that.”
Unbeknownst to Naell, the food stalls within Beryldot had become more profitable, and were only garnering more visitors to their estate each day. Their guests would only further increase for the event that was to come.
"I'm glad that the estate is flourishing.'
"All thanks to you, Young master." Teasingly replied Mr. Talus.
Not everyone knew that Naell was the one who innovatively brought those changes to Beryldot, yet for merchants like Mr. Talus, connections with people like that were often profitable.
"Haha--- don't know what you mean. It’s all because of you merchants that my father's estate is blooming."
"Hahaha, be that as it may, it sure is a noisy morning today. I do hope you'll enjoy the cultural festival, Young master." Replied the merchant with a rowdy chuckle, making even his belly vibrate with his laughter.
"Hahaha… yeah." Replied Naell who was not looking forward to why Taglagas was more vibrant than ever.
He could only smile wryly, as he knew regardless of what would happen, he would be exhausted until the festival was over.
Yet with a serious gaze and a teaseful tone, Mr. Talus then added on,
"If Taglagas will allow stalls from us in the near future, please do contact us."
When he heard Mr. Talus say those words, Naell’s eyes widened and instinctively clapped, impressed with their fast intel.
Not only were they aware of the plans of the school, but they were also planning ahead as businessmen.
Naell with a cheeky smile then replied,
"Probably soon, Mr. Talus. Afterall, success warrants copycats."
Mr. Talus could only laugh, even though Naell was young, he was far from naive when it came to business.
‘He even has keener eyes than some merchants I know.’
They then proceeded to speak more about Beryldot, Owly’s incredible appetite, and even Fharom’s similarities with his son when he was younger.
“Believe me Young master, when he was your age, your father was famous both for his intelligence--- and with the ladies.” Joked Mr. Talus.
“Haha, unfortunately, I’m neither.” Seriously replied Naell.
"..."
‘I guess denseness runs in the blood.’
As the bustling sounds of townsfolk grew much louder through the streets, both of them knew it was time to part ways.
Upon thanking Mr. Talus for accepting his favor, Naell then swiftly offered a small bag of coins and went on his way.
The tradesman reluctantly accepted the coins, yet again. He knew he and Naell would go back and forth once more if he did not accept it, as last time, it had ended with a heavy negotiation of wits.
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