Sapientia

Capters 3

The moon, which perches in space, shimmers brightly and radiates its light all over the world. The bright rays of the moon on this night also water the dense forest that surrounds the city of Ertonburg so that the darkness away from there. The wind was blowing slowly, gently caressing every leaf that had worked hard all day.

Nigel sat in front of a bonfire in his yard. Tonight, he was cooking with a strange ingredient that he did not know if all the ingredients turned out to be able to eat. Not only that, from the gift of knowledge he received from the Death God Zanon, he could cook dishes that of course he had never tried before. He knows how to cut vegetables properly, he knows how to set the size of a fire, and he also knows how to mix spices so that the food tastes very delicious. Didn't expect that the science he received would be this effective in his life.

A fat middle-aged woman, still with an apron tied to her chest, came over to Nigel.

"Nigel, what happened to you today, son?" ask the woman. He sat on a log next to Nigel. "You didn't sell your firewood today. Mrs Mucktelery and Mrs Climbuff are looking for you. Are you in trouble?"

The woman, Mrs Goschel, was the sister of Nigel's late father. Married to Lionel Goschel, a spice farmer, her last name was with her husband.

"Sorry aunt. Today I experienced a terrible event, or perhaps an extraordinary event. I don't know, I don't understand either."

Lady Goschel knew that a gloomy cloud was wrapping her niece's mind. "Is there something you're thinking, Nigel? If there is, talk to me."

"It looks like I'm going away for a while auntie," replied Nigel grimly. "There's something I have to do."

"Are you coming back?"

"Of course!" answer Nigel quickly. "But I don't know when I'll be back."

With the light from the bright bonfire, Nigel could see a sincere smile etched on his aunt's lips. Mrs Goschel turned her head and looked at her sister's exotic tree house. "When your father built this tree house, everyone in town thought it was weird. You know what he said?"

Nigel.

"I do what I want and I won't regret it even as badly as I can." Lady Goschel looked at her nephew who looked stunned.

"Did you really say that?"

Madam Goschel nodded. "Even with pride. That's why your mother fell in love with him."

Nigel was stunned, as if he had just awakened to something. His father's words - even though he had heard from his aunt - slapped the cloud of gloom that wrapped his heart.

"Aunt Gloria, I think I know what to do."

"Good then." Lady Goschel moved from her seat. "I have to get back soon. Otherwise, your cousin will starve. Also, if you need anything, tell your uncle. He'll help you."

"Good, Aunt Gloria. Thanks."

Mistress Goschel accidentally saw the boiling pot. "Don't forget you noticed your cooking. It's not good if the results are burnt."

Nigel completely forgot that one. He immediately lifted his cooking.

The fat lady smiled at her nephew, and then she went and left.

The food that Nigel cooked is now ripe. A porridge with a mixture of spices and wild grass. He quickly moved the food from the stove to a wooden plate. The hot steam that smelled the delicacy wafted, stirring up that dead-end appetite. Staring at the bonfire, Nigel ate his dinner.

An unusually delicious taste - which exceeded the delicacy of his father's cuisine - filled the young man's mouth. He was very impressed to remember this food he himself cooked it. But, the burden of the task he received suddenly appeared in his mind. He had already accepted the task, so he had to finish it.

The flames licked and covered the piles of dry firewood. Nigel witnessed the phenomenon of wood turning into charcoal while devouring his food. "I've been revived and received three gifts. I think I need to finish the job he gave me. After all, what the hell is it so hard to find those two people? I'll find them easily."

Nigel devoured his dinner quickly and ended with a sip of water on the prepared wooden glass. "I know what I have to do now, which is sleep." The young man extinguished the bonfire, cleaned the dishes, washed his face, and immediately entered the room.

Solar rays began to rise to its throne, emitting warm light all over the world. Negel wakes up from his sleep and starts packing. He prepared some items such as kitchen salt, a box of matches, and some pieces of his savings. All that he kept in a small waist bag made of cowhide. The young man was wearing his father's old clothes. A kind of simple tunic of light brown long sleeves tied with a dark brown belt at the waist. And that's where he put his little bag. Nigel was ready and he left the tree house.

Nigel took the donkey with him and he immediately headed for the market. The place was only a few dozen meters from where he lived.

"The boy Nigel!" mister Harbort cried when he saw the young man approaching him. "What do you need? Want to buy a horse?"

"No Mr. Harbort. I want to sell my donkey." As Nigel said this, there was no sad or moody impression visible on his face. This astonished Mr. Harbort.

"Isn't this donkey your father's birthday present?"

"Yes, Mr. Harbort. But, I need the money now."

"Would you sell your father's property for that woman?"

Nigel was a little absorbed in that word. Of course it was Diana."Certainly not Mr. Harbort. I'll be gone for a while, and this money I use for travel expenses."

"Good if so. I think, because of your insanity with that woman, it's got your brain shifted a little." Mr. Harbort laughed with his own jokes. Nigel laughed, but not because it was funny.

"How much for my donkey, Mr Harbort?" Nigel doesn't want to stay here too long. The smell of the horse is so pungent that it makes it uncomfortable.

"Five Twenty silver coins," replied Mr. Harbort briefly.

"Ow, come. Add a little for me." Nigel tried to weld.

Mr. Harbort sighed for a moment and looked at the young man with pity. He had known Nigel and his father for a long time. Even Nigel's father was Mr. Harbort's drinking companion, and Nigel's father always drove Mr. Harbort to his house if the middle-aged man was already completely drunk.

Quitting nostalgia, Mr. Harbort began to speak, "Alright, let's just say I'm helping you now. I added ten pieces of silver. Don't bid anymore!"

"Thank you, Mr. Harbort!" nigel looked happy.

"That donkey over there!" suru Mr. Harbort.

Nigel carried his donkey on a pole and tied his harness there. "Thank you for your service the last few years, man. And goodbye" said Nigel, wiping his donkey's forehead. Donkey Mr. Harbort now.

Mr. Harbort came with a bag of money in his hand. The bag containing the pieces of money he gave to Nigel. "Sixty pieces of silver. Count first or later you'll regret it because the money is less."

Nigel accepted, "I believe you, Mr. Harbort." He kept the money in his little bag.

The young man's cheerful smile was the last thing Mr. Harbort saw on Nigel. After that, he no longer met the young man.

Nigel walked a bit quickly through the market crowd, then entered through the alley. Breaking through the main street of the city, Nigel immediately crossed. Now he walked on the sidewalk that lined many shops. Nigel scuffled all the shops he saw and continued walking. Nigel's destination now is Mr. Bridget's magic tool shop, where Diana works. The young man was very eager to meet his heart because after this, he did not know when he could see him again. In addition, Nigel also had other affairs in the store.

After walking far enough, at the end of the view Nigel saw a signboard of a store carved from copper with a symbol of magic tongkat. Nigel immediately walked in and the door bell rang.

There was no Diana there. The store owner, Mr Bridget, came out with a big hunk in his mouth. Clumps of smoke billowed and floated in the wind, entering the small chimney on the ceiling of the room. With the information from the gift of knowledge he received, Nigel knew if there was a magic spell manipulating the smoke.

The shop is very full and narrow. Lots of strange tools are displayed and just hanging. The word store is less precise to describe it, it is more precisely called a warehouse. So messy and crumpled.

"What are you looking for, young man?" ask the middle-aged man.

"I didn't see Diana. Where is he, Mr Bridget?"

"The woman is dead."

Nigel gasped at the old man's words. His heart and mind were in chaos for a moment.

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