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Chapter 7: The absent owner

  They arrived in Riverwall around half past 3rd bell. They took a few minutes to stretch the long ride out of themselves before setting out for the town hall to inquire about purchasing the old building that Niala had been squatting in.

  Asking around, they were directed to the property records clerk, one named Erick, who would be able to look into who the previous registered owner was and see if they were still around or if the building was available for purchase. However, things did not go to plan.

  Niala asked. “What kind of problem?”

  Erick the clerk cleared his throat and turned the records tome around to show them the issue, his voice nasal.

  “See, the previous owner, one Jasmund, has been reported as absent, not missing. As per regulations, an absent person's goods and property are not available for purchase or redistribution.”

  Niala eyed over the entry before frowning. “But this says he's been absent for 18 years.”

  The clerk frowned in turn and re-read the entry. “Indeed, you are right. Hrmm... Come with me, we will go verify the gate records, to see when he last left town.”

  They followed the clerk two rooms over.

  “Joshua, greetings. Could we verify the logbook for one Jasmund, starting 18 years ago?” Erick the clerk asked as he stepped into the room.

  Joshua, evidently another clerk under the town hall's employ, tilted his head as he asked.

  “18 years? That's a long time. Leaving or arriving?”

  “Just leaving for now.” Erick precised.

  “Alright, let me see...” Joshua said and went to retrieve an older and slightly dusty tome. He opened it and pored over the entries. A few minutes passed.

  “Ah, I see here Jasmund of Riverwall, leaving the north gate at ... 10 past midnight on the 42nd of spring, 18 years ago.” He turned back to look at the trio.

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  Erick continued. “Could we verify if he has returned? He has been marked as absent since that date. He has accrued a rather impressive amount of unpaid taxes.”

  Joshua nodded. “Since he left from the north gate, it shouldn't take too long to verify. There aren't that many entrance logs from the north gate...”

  He retrieved several other tomes and enlisted David, Niala and Erick the clerk to go over the records. Half a bell later, having cross-verified each other's portion of the logs, it did seem as if Jasmund had never returned.

  Erick stroked his chin. “I think we will have to mark Jasmund as missing.”

  He turned to Niala and explained. “Following a cross-kingdom verification or after 6 months have passed, whichever comes first, he will be marked as presumed dead and his assets will be released. Did you have any other questions?”

  David and Niala looked at each other. He shrugged while she frowned and then looked back at Erick. “How long does the cross-kingdom verification usually take?”

  “Usually between 9 and 12 months.”

  “So... 6 months at a minimum then.”

  “That does indeed seem to be the case, yes.” He answered, pushing up his glasses.

  “I guess... thank you.” She said, dejected, ears flopping and tail dropping, as she turned to leave.

  David held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

  “Erick, is there any way to expedite the process of declaring someone presumed dead? Maybe declaring them confirmed dead?”

  Erick the clerk looked up. “Ah? Huh, well, yes. If you can procure and present tangible proof of death, we can process the declaration of death right here at this town hall.”

  David tilted his head. “What do you consider tangible proof?”

  Erick thought for a second before answering. “A recognizable corpse is best, obviously. A mana-signed article, if you can find one and proof that it belonged to the presumed dead, can also be used to identify an unrecognizable corpse or even skeletal remains. Otherwise, in some cases, the testimony of enough people and solid evidence pointing to a person's probable death could hold in court.” He stroked his chin.

  “In this case, the fact that Jasmund has been marked as absent for 18 years and that no logs show him as re-entering the city is rather strong evidence by itself.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever the case, it needs to be strong enough to stand up by itself in a court of rule if someone claiming to be the absent person ever resurfaced.” He pushed his glasses up. “Is that sufficient information?”

  David nodded. “That should be, yes. Thank you. Come on, Niala.”

  “Ah? Ah! Yes, thank you both for your time.”

  They nodded their appreciation as David gently guided her out of the town hall before turning north.

  “Where are we going? Do you have a plan? You look like you have a plan.” She sighed. “But the man's been missing for 18 years. We'd have to have saintly luck to find any proof, especially if he got himself lost in the ruinlands.” Her ears drooped. “We'll have to wait the bleedin' 6 months...”

  “You keep forgetting my job.”

  “No, I remember what your job is, you're a courier.”

  “A Free Courier.”

  “Yesss?” She frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”

  “We need to get proof of the man's death from point A to point B.”

  “From... wait, are you serious? You think you can actually find the guy's corpse from 18 years ago?” She asked incredulously.

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  “Wouldn't be the first time I've had to find an old skeleton.”

  “You're serious.”

  He nodded.

  “Ok, I have to see this. Fair warning, if you fail, I'll keep lumping you with the mailmen.”

  He stopped walking for just long enough to look back at her. “I'm not a mailman. I'm a Free Courier.”

  “I still don't understand the difference.”

  “You'll see.”

  Unconvinced, but curious nonetheless, Niala followed David as he headed for the northern part of the town.

  They soon arrived at Hodge's home.

  Niala looked at the house. “I thought we were going to the ruinlands.”

  David shook his head as he banged on Hodge's door. “No. The first step to finding old dead skeletons is to ask old living skeletons about the old dead skeletons.”

  From inside the house, David heard Hodge vociferate. “Who are you calling an old skeleton!?”

  The door abruptly opened, and Hodge glared in David's general direction.

  “You... heard me?”

  “Of course, I heard you! I said my sight and my nose were gone, not my ears! I can hear just fine!”

  “Oh... apologies for calling you an old skeleton.”

  Hodge scoffed. “Bah, make nothing of it. It's true anyway, I'm nearly a skeleton at this point! Har har har-k hark keurk!” A cackling cough interrupted his guffawing.

  *Weeeeeze*

  “Ok – hark - I'm back. What do you need?” *cough* He asked through laboured breathing.

  David waited a few moments to make sure Hodge wasn't about to fall over dead.

  “Did you know someone called Jasmund?” He finally asked.

  “Jasmund? Wasn't that the botanist fella with the fairy garden?”

  David and Niala glanced at each other. Niala silently mouthed Fairy garden?.

  David shrugged, turning back to Hodge. “If you mean the two-story house outside of town with the walled-off garden, that would be him, yes.”

  “Hmm, yeah, I knew him. He's been gone a fair long time, though. What do you need with him?”

  “If possible, his corpse.”

  “What if he's still alive? You going to kill him?”

  “No, his living body would be acceptable as well. I just don't think that's likely.”

  Hodge sagely nodded. “Yeah, most likely he's feeding stinkflowers or somesuch. Well, either way, I don't have his corpse with me, so I can't help you.” He paused for a second, rubbing his decrepit chin. “At least I don't think I have his corpse... did you see any corpse-looking thing when you rummaged in my pile last time?”

  “I did not.”

  Hodge bobbed his head. “Well, there you go. No corpse for you.”

  “That's mostly what I expected, but no, I was hoping you knew if he had any sort of mana-imprinted object in his possession.”

  “Mana-imprints heh? Let me think...” Hodge said as he pulled at his beard.

  “Hmm...”

  “Aaah...”

  “Oh! The stupid music box!” Hodge exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

  “Stupid music box?” David repeated.

  “Yes! A little stupid music box that I won from him on a bet, but he never agreed to change the imprint to me because he was angry at having lost the bet, and I never agreed to bet the box again because he was a sore loser.” Hodge said, grinning.

  David hesitated to ask. “Do you... still have the stupid music box?”

  Hodge's grin spread across his entire face, all 6 of his teeth sticking out like diseased icebergs adrift in a sea of gummy flesh.

  “It's in the pile, isn't it?”

  Hodge nodded. “It's in the pile.”

  “It's at the back of the pile, at the very bottom, isn't it?”

  “Well, I just don't rightly know off the top of my old head!” Hodge said as he went to retrieve the notebook he'd filled last time they had reorganized the stuff. “Let's see. Stupid music box... stupid... music box... Ah!” He pointed at a smudge on one of the pages.

  David was unable to read the smudge. “What does it say?”

  “It says, bottom of the pile, far left corner,” Hodge confirmed.

  David closed his eyes. One step towards the solution. Like every time.

  The stuff appeared in his mind. Looming. Infinite. Hungry.

  One step toward the solution. Stay strong, David.

  It had only been 3 days. He had moved everything barely 3 days ago. How had everything been dustier?

  4 and a half bells later, the stuff had once again been emptied out of the room and then completely re-organized. For his troubles, he now held in his hand a... stupid music box.

  Hodge was happily re-reading the new notebook he'd filled with smudges that only he understood.“Oh oh! This is even better than last time!” He patted David's shoulder. “I must say, lad, you're a right-on dedicated pile mover. I'll know who to call the next time I need my pile reorganized!”

  Hodge held out his open hand at David.

  “Now, payment. Three regents in cold, hard coin, in this hand.”

  David slowly looked at Hodge. “You're... selling me this thing, that you can't use, that was stuck underneath your everything, for three hundred bits?”

  “It's still mine! I won it in a bet. Now pay up if you want it!”

  David just kept staring at him.

  Niala stepped forward and put the requested money in the old man's hand. “There you go, sir. Is everything settled?”

  Hodge weighted the money in his hand, then cupped it and rattled it against his ear before nodding, “I would say so, lass! A deal has been said and done then! The stupid music box is all yours. Now, please leave this old man to his evening reading time.” He said, waving the new notebook as he ushered them out the front door.

  Nighttime was fast approaching as they stepped out. They looked at each other. David was again covered in sweaty grime, reminding Niala of old-time coal miners. She suppressed a laugh.

  “It's not funny,” David said.

  “It's a little funny.”

  “Only from your high chair.”

  Niala stared at him.

  “Did you just... call me a snob, short, and childish at the same time?!”

  “Mockery is an art form.”

  She wound up an arm punch but stopped as she noticed just how grimy David was.

  “You know what? My poor fist doesn't deserve to be touched by your filth.”

  “That's the only thing stopping you? Not the physical pain you'd inflict upon me?”

  “Yes. Come now, filthy morlock creature. Some cold well water, as cold as your heart, will wash you just fine before your quality sleep on an exquisite floor bed.”

  “That entire statement proves I'm not the cold-hearted one.”

  “Hush, morlocks don't know how to talk back.”

  He grunted before following Niala back to her squat.

  She was glad to be the one leading. She couldn't afford to let him see her goofy smile.

  Headman and Mayoral offices

  enforceable they usually are applied one way or another, in part or full, by those in a position of power.

  Mana-signatures

  Mana-locks

  explosive, safeguards against this method.

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