The next morning saw David and Niala working around her newly purchased home.

  David had decided to splurge a little the day prior and purchase a rolled-up mattress, which made his sleep on the floor much more bearable.

  Niala had asked him why he didn't instead rent a room at an inn, as he'd thought of previously. He'd replied that it was cheaper to sleep on her floor, since breakfast appeared to be included. He also thought, but did not say, that he'd be sleeping here at least until the doors were fixed and lockable.

  Even though his back didn't hurt that morning, he still asked Niala if she could brew him an Old Woman's Brew. When aggressively reminded of the rule the day prior, he defended himself by saying that it was the brew's name, not a description of its taste.

  Niala didn't manage to find a retort. David got his brew.

  He apparently really had acquired the taste, which surprised him more than anybody else.

  They began their day by fully exploring the house, something David was puzzled Niala hadn't done yet until she explained she'd been rather busy trying to find a solution to her predicament at the time, and that she'd only been temporarily residing here for about a week before they'd met.

  “So, on the business end, you have the front desk area, the store room attached to it, one nondescript room next to it, which looks like it could be a small office, a large open room at the back, through the store room, that you said would be the brewing area.” David listed off as he pointed to the rough plan that Niala had drawn in one of her new notebooks after they'd gone through every room.

  “I'd like to add a door to the garden in the brew room. It has enough windows for good ventilation, but you always need at least two exits in a brew room. Worst case, I could put up a small ladder up to one window, but a door would be best.”

  David rubbed his chin. “You should ask a skilled mason or bricklayer for this. I'd probably do a botch job.”

  Niala looked up at him. “I wasn't going to ask you.”

  “Why no- no forget I asked.”

  She grinned. “Because you'd probably do a bo-”

  “You know what?” He cut her off. “I will add a door to that room. I hope you like non-standard door shapes.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him, tail playfully swaying, as she returned to look at the floor plan.

  She started listing the other rooms. “For the housing side, there's the combined kitchen and dining area on the first floor, a water room attached to it. On the second floor up the stairs here.” She pointed at the relevant part of the plan before continuing.

  “We have a general living room, a small bathroom, two bedrooms, one plant room filled with dead dried plants and...” She became excited as she pointed at the last room. “A personal library! Filled with books and scrolls! Which I am going to fill with even more books and formulas!” She declared joyfully, ears wiggling and a glint in her eyes.

  David raised an eyebrow. She did fit the bookworm stereotype. Brainy, socially awkward, out of shape...

  He refocused on the plan, pointing at one door in particular. “Where's this lead? It doesn't say.”

  “That's because I don't know. The door won't open.” She replied.

  He thought for a second before getting up and making his way to the mystery door.

  She looked up as he left and started after him, curious. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm going to try opening the door.”

  “I tried. It won't budge at all. It might be rusted shut.” She reiterated as they arrived.

  He tried opening the door himself. It really didn't budge. He then inspected the door frame, using his Courier plaque as a light source. He didn't see any sign of rust. There wasn't any visible keyhole or locking mechanism.

  He did note that the handle was rather intricately decorated. He pondered for a second, an idea worming into his head.

  He pulled out something from his pouch, and with the same hand, made to open the door once more. Something clicked, and the door easily opened, although the hinges groaned a little.

  He smugly grinned at Niala, who was frowning at him.

  “What did you do? What did you take out of your pouch?”

  Still grinning, he showed her a small bone before replying. “The door was mana locked.”

  She stared at what appeared to be a phalanx. “Did you steal one of Jasmund's bones?” She asked with some apprehension, already knowing the answer.

  “Hmm, it's only borrowed. I'll return it to its owner once we're done here.”

  She slowly nodded. “Ok, but... why? Yesterday, you didn't even know there was a door I hadn't been able to open. For what possible reason did you... borrow one of his bones?”

  “Completely unrelated. I wanted to use it to reset the mana-lock on the stupid music box that you purchased from Hodge.”

  She stared at him for a few seconds. “I can't decide if you wanting to make sure I could use the creepy music box is endearing or mean.”

  “Why would it be mean?” He asked.

  “Because it's a creepy music box. When you thought of changing its mana lock, were you thinking “Oh, I want to make sure Niala can use the item she purchased,” or were you thinking “That thing was really creepy, I need to make sure she has the least possible reasons to throw it away.” ?”

  He blinked and pocketed the phalanx before looking at the now-unlocked door. “Let's go see what Jasmund was hiding.” He said as he opened the door fully, revealing a set of stairs going down. “How interesting, a cellar!” He rapidly commented as he started walking downstairs, using his Courier plaque to light the way.

  Niala needed a second. “Wait.” She tried to grab at David's shirt, but he was too fast. “You didn't answer me. Wait!” She followed him downstairs.

  David walked off the last stair and took a couple of steps forward before stopping and sweeping his lighted plaque around. Niala was soon behind him, scanning the room as he did.

  The cellar turned out to be a rather large, if bare, room. It was fully bricked and didn't overly smell of rot or show any damage at first glance, although it was rather damp. There were a few crates and sacks piled here and there, with a few wooden shelves stocked with various household items. A small barrel storage area with a few small barrels lined one side of the room, right next to a door. There were no windows or light source other than the weak sunlight coming from the staircase and his plaque.

  With the penumbra and chill, the room felt a bit like what you'd expect in an old castle dungeon, with a somewhat oppressive atmosphere as if they were being watched by something unseen. If you strained your ear, you could discern a sort of haunting moan. There was probably a ventilation duct somewhere...

  They stood motionless for a few moments, but couldn't hear anything else. Niala took a few small steps and got closer to David, one of her hands slowly grabbing his shirt.

  As he felt her grab on, he raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder at her.

  Her tail was mostly motionless, only the very tip flicking slowly. Her ears were at full attention. Her amethyst eyes were wide open and intently staring at the closed door.

  He spoke softly, “Did-”

  “Ah!!!” She flinched.

  They looked at each other. He grinned in realization.

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  “I guess it is a bit scary without any of the lights working.” He said playfully.

  She just stared pleadingly at him, which took the wind out of his sails. He sighed.

  “Do you want to go back up? I can finish exploring by myself.”

  She looked at the stairs going up, then back to him. She spoke so softly he had trouble making out her words even in the ambient silence.

  “...I'll be fine. L- let's go check the door...”

  He eyed her for a second before nodding and slowly walking toward the closed door. She kept her hold on his shirt and followed very closely behind him.

  He found he rather enjoyed the moment. Big, strong, fearless David protecting little out-of-shape scared Niala. He almost snickered, then he felt a bit guilty. Then he started feeling like a bully, even though he had said nothing. He spoke softly as they approached the door.

  “You know, a lot of people are scared by a lot of things. Being scared isn't shameful.”

  “I- I know?” She weakly replied, somewhat confused as to where that had come from.

  “Hmm, as long as you know. Let's see what's hiding in here.” He said as they arrived at the door and pulled the handle. The door groaned on its hinges. He felt Niala flinch at the sound.

  He swept his plaque inside the room. There was some sort of contraption covered by a large sheet in the middle of the room, and a few more crates stacked in a corner. He stepped forward and pulled at the sheet in one swooping motion.

  What he found was a set of metal drums with various gauges, valves and pipe outlets. He scratched his head. “I'm not sure what this is.”

  Niala leaned to David's side and looked at the equipment, eyes widening and a smile forming in recognition. “It's a distilling set!” She exclaimed, fear momentarily forgotten.

  “Distilling? For making alcohol? We can brew alcohol?”

  “Huh? Oh, yes, sure, but not just alcohol! I can use this to brew some potions in large batches! Commercial levels of brewing!” She let go of David's shirt, grabbing his plaque and pulling ahead. David stumbled a few steps at the sudden jerking motion around his neck, the plaque's lanyard pulling at him.

  She excitedly began inspecting the apparatus. “It's in really good condition, too! Look, the metal's been treated for corrosion resistance, and look at the precision on the gauges! Wow!” She jerked the plaque to the left, pulling him along, as she bent forward to look at the various valves. “I think it's a multi-chamber model! Look at the machining on these parts!” She pulled to the right, focusing on what appeared to be a marking on one of the metal drums. She squinted at it.

  “Land... Landret. Landretti!” She stood up and swirled around, beaming the plaque's light directly into David's eyes. “It's a Landretti distiller!”

  He covered his eyes with his hands. Niala didn't get the hint and kept trying to blind him. “I'm not, huh, familiar with-” He tried to say.

  “It's top-of-the-line stuff! My father's workshop had a bunch of large-scale distillers, but he only ever managed to find and purchase a single Landretti set. These are all hand-crafted and only a few are sold each year!” Her tempo increased. “David, this is an actual treasure! This thing is worth a fortune!”

  He couldn't really see her expression, but noticed that she went still. “Oh no... David, we can't... we need to find out if Jasmund has any surviving family! We need to return this to them!” She said, starting to panic and rapidly waving the plaque in his face.

  Oh for the love of...

  “Firstly...” He slowly grabbed at his plaque, taking it out of her hands and freeing his eyes from the ongoing torment, sighing in relief.

  She meeped as she realized what she had been doing. “Sorry!” She squeaked out.

  He nodded to accept her apology before continuing. “Secondly, calm down.”

  He waited a few seconds.

  “Did you calm down?”

  She nodded energetically.

  “Right. Thirdly, let's go back up. We'll come back to take full stock once we've fixed the lighting.”

  He proceeded to recover the distiller with the sheet. Closing the door behind them, they climbed back up to the ground floor and back to the front desk area.

  Once there, David spoke. “Now that we are not in a damp, cold basement...”

  He addressed Niala. “Jasmund didn't have any relatives listed in the town records, nor did he leave a will behind. We checked when we confirmed his death and you purchased the house, remember?”

  Her ears flopped down. “I do but...”

  “But you still feel bad about potentially keeping something that is lawfully yours.” He sighed.

  She nodded, hands fidgeting. “What's the best way to find out if Jasmund has any living relatives?”

  “Hmm, do you want slow and cheap or fast and expensive?” He asked.

  “... how expensive?”

  He thought for a second. “A few princes.”

  Her ears perked up. “I can afford that! What's the fast way?”

  He stared at the girl willing to spend thousands of bits to find the potentially non-existing long-lost relative of a complete stranger to return what she described as a treasure that even blue-blooded nobles would want to get their hands on.

  He was a little impressed at her genuineness.

  I need to protect her blessed little heart from the big, bad world.

  He shoved the thought right out of his head.

  “It's your money, I guess.” He finally said. “The fastest way is a Free Courier posting.”

  She blinked, “Ah? You mean you'd do it?”

  He shook his head. “I'm not the only Free Courier that exists, you know? There's a whole bunch of us.”

  She stared for a few seconds, ears twitching.

  “You... didn't realize.”

  She threw her hands in the air, “I never met any other Free Courier! I'd heard of them, but you're the first one I know! Your whole secret order didn't enter my consciousness until you started raving about how special and important you were!”

  “It's not a secret order, and I don't rave about my job. Your father always said that th-”

  She punched him in the arm and glared at him. “Stop. Stealing. My. Father's. Words!”

  “Hmm. His wise words must be shared.”

  “You're not sharing them when you throw them back at my face, his daughter!”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, ears flopping down, before sighing.

  “You know the worst part?” She asked, not waiting for an answer, as she answered her own question.

  “I bet he'd love you throwing back his words at him.” She said fondly. “I love my father, he's a very good man and he loves his daughters very much, but... he has a bit of an ego.”

  David nodded and spoke. “Sounds like a man who knows his own strengths and isn't afraid to let other pe-”

  “I will murder you with a poison more horrible than anything you can conceive if you finish that sentence.” She flatly declared before staring at him, daring him to continue.

  He stared back.

  “I can conceive of very horrible pois-.”

  “Try me.” She cut him off.

  They kept staring at each other.

  A minute passed.

  Niala broke the stalemate. “Ok, getting back on track. Free Courier posting. Is there a way-station in town? I don't think I've seen one...”

  David shook his head. “Not all towns have a way-station, but every settlement with at least a headman will have a posting board. There's one at the town hall here, I checked. The front desk attendant maintains it.”

  “Sooo... I just tell them I want to post a request? That's it?”

  He dipped his head. “Pretty much. You specify what you need, whoever is tasked with maintaining the board will get the details they need from you, and based on that, will suggest the reward you should post. You can offer less or more; just know that you're not guaranteed that a Free Courier will take up your posting if the reward's too low for the job, or that it might not interest the better-skilled ones. The board manager's recommendation is usually a safe bet.”

  Niala nodded. “Alright. I'll do it like that then. I'd rather know sooner than later if that little beauty belongs to anyone.”

  “Legally speaking, it belongs to you.”

  Niala's ears popped upward as she vociferated. “If I were Jasmund's lost granddaughter and some greedy sow-born harpy hid behind the law to steal my grandpa's belongings, I'd be really pissed!” She deflated and mumbled. “I don't want to be a greedy sow-born harpy...”

  He angled his head. “You're hoping they don't find anyone, aren't you?”

  Her ears twitched as she rebounded. “Of course not! Didn't you hear me when I said it was a Landretti distiller?!”

  “I still don't know how much that thing's worth.”

  She blinked and looked up as she spoke, “Well, from what I understand, the one my father managed to buy went for 115 nobles, and that was second-hand. You pretty much have to be a blue-blood and have insane contacts or favours to buy one straight from the factory.”

  “115 nobles,” David repeated. “1.15 million bits.”

  “Yeah!” Niala confirmed.

  “And you're going to do your best to find Jasmund's estranged family to give them that thing, if they exist.”

  “Well, yeah.” She said as if that was what anyone should and would do.

  He sighed.

  “Please don't talk about this to my brother Luke or Mistress Yrlemagne. Or any self-respecting merchant, for that matter.”

  “Why not?” she asked, tilting her head.

  “It could be considered mental torture and possibly physical abuse.”

  “Heh?”

  He just smiled, a small prayer coming to him unbidden.

  Saint Honora, patron of goodness and sacrifices, be praised. Please bless her little heart and guard her from evil.