The sun was already down outside the cottage, the light cast a bright light above the dining table yet it only illuminated Wattyson’s halfway.

  “What do you mean ‘Who am I really?’” asked Wattyson, bit surprised and puzzled.

  Arlene leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Like… you have so many weird things around the house. You have so many weapons in the storage and yo-you could use magic without chanting or a magic circle!” She took a quick pause to breathe before continuing. “And… why do you have so many robes! They’re all identical! This is not normal. And the fact my mentor asked me to seek you out. There has to be something about you.”

  Her fingers pinched her arm softly. “Please… I want to know. Can you tell me?”

  Wattyson scanned her, and decided to return her genuine curiosity. “I’m… Wattyson. I..” he stammered, tilted his head and hovered his hand above his mouth. “Sorry, I’ve never been studied like this before.”

  “Then… maybe tell me why do you have so many papers lying about? I assumed those are your studies on the supernatural you mentioned right?”

  Wattyson nodded and took a deep breath. “Yes, they are. I suppose that makes me a… hunter of the supernatural? All those stacks of paper are my accumuted data on them.”

  “I can read them right?”

  “Of course, I decide to join you on your quest after all!”

  Aralynn was bemused, she didn’t actually think he was open like that. “Were you… part of an organization or anything reting to those? To be honest, I never heard anything like those since I just learnt supernatural existed.”

  She could see his expression became solemn. His eyes were full of gloom.

  “I was…,” his voice hanging low. “I… did something they didn’t approve of. I was acting purely for something I firmly believed deserve justice. They banished me for being too extreme.”

  “I’m sorry” she retracted her arms off the table, leaning straight yet her gaze fixed on him. “Is… that maybe why you live here in isotion?”

  “I… No,” Wattyson shook his head. “There was something else… the can of tuna with mayonnaise wasn’t made or canned any longer. It was my favourite.”

  “W-What?”

  “I ate it every evening when I went home after work. I always stopped by the general store and picked up one. Ever since they stopped stocking them, I searched relentlessly where it was still avaible… but none in the western part of Avalevd stocked them no longer. I- I couldn-“

  “Please do not speak of can of mayonnaise tuna like some HALYCON DREAM!!” she raised her hands, smming on the table lightly. She realized what she just did, became flustered, and tried to compose herself.

  She cleared her throat, faking a cough. “Anyway… where did you live before this?”

  “Bad’ur of the Kingdom of Equirum.”

  “Equirum? That kingdom fell two hundred years ago… and you looked to be in your mid-twenties.” Her eyebrows raised, eyeing him.

  Wattyson’s expression paused before quickly added, “I’m… just a big fan of history.” He shrugged.

  Her eyes squinted before closing, letting out a sigh. It was a miracle already that he was opening up at all. She let it go for now.

  “Ok… Ummm why the robes and staffs?”

  Wattyson extended both his hands outward, puffing his chest out, his head tilted upward. “I’m a wizard” in an exaggerated voice.

  Arlene was stunned by his dramatic posture, but also the revetion that he was a wizard. Those who practiced magic were rare, and those with a profession such as sorcerer, mage or wizard meant they were trained in the art of magic, could effortless use it with a chant or magic circle. It lined up. He could use it chantless after all, when even her mentor, the greatest magic user couldn’t. Yet she still wanted to ask to make sure, “Are you really?”

  Wattyson quickly lowered his hand, rexed his posture, his face straightened to her with a stoic expression, “No.” he paused for effect before adding, “I just like the aesthetic of it.”

  “That can’t be the only reason! Like why can you chant magic?!”

  Wattyson didn’t answer, his look was of bewildered.

  “Like-like… you could even do it without chanting! Like if it was me” Arlene stood up, muttered to herself in an ancient nguage and a small orb of light manifested itself. “I had to chant for a glow of light to follow me around!” she recited an ancient nguage again, dismissing the orb.

  Wattyson looked down at his lifted palm. Arlene could see it, something deep within his eyes. Was it something more than she thought?

  What felt like a while, Wattyson let out, “I don’t know… I was taught to chant yes, but after a while I become able to do it without chanting.” He lifted his palm to a cup on a kitchen counter, opening his hand for a grab and shortly after a cup flew to his hand. “Like that.”

  Arlene looked in confusion, her knowledge of the concept of magic turned upside down. She took a short breath before asking, “Is there anything else you can cast?”

  Wattyson nodded and flicked his finger, lighting it on fire. He flicked again and his fingers covered in ice.

  Arlene awed at the sight, her mouth gapped and eyes widened. “Who are you really?”

  Wattyson lowered his finger, “I don’t know… but I am what I am.”

  Arlene leaned back, sat in quiet to process, her hand gently massaged her forehead. She muttered to herself, “Good heavens you’re serious…” She then finally surrendered, “That’s all I want to ask for now…”

  Wattyson looked to her, scratching his cheek gently. He could see the gears working in her face, so he waited. He had questions or rather requests of his own.

  After a while, Wattyson finally spoke up. “Aralynn,”

  “Arlene” barely a whisper from Arlene.

  “Arlene. If I were to party up with you. I would like to visit a vilge not far from here. You probably passed it on your way here. It’s known as the Tamare Vilge, and I would like to pay a visit to the sickly elder before I leave.”

  Arlene lifted her head up, lowered her arm. Her eyes beamed. “Of course, I already asked too much of you. We’ll make a stop at Tamare Vilge.”

  Wattyson let a faint smile appeared. “Thank you.” He stood up, stretched his back out and reached for his staff for support. “For now… get some sleep. As we agreed you can sleep on the bed and I’ll sleep on my comfy lounge chair. Come, I’ll show you where the bed is.”

  Arlene nodded and rose to her feet, following him.

  The two moved quietly, preparing for the night, taking showers and readied themselves for bed to surrender to slumber.

  “Goodnight, Wattyson.” Arlene let out in her light tunic clothing to Wattyson resting on the chair.

  A small silence in the air between the two before Wattyson replied “Goodnight” in his guff and light tone. Arlene turned away with a small smile. Maybe she wouldn’t be alone again in her quest.