"The White Craftsmen’s Guild’s stronghold in the city?"
"Yes, it’s one of the city’s key places where you can trade mystical items at any time. I want to go there to conduct a few trades. Do you know of any such places here in Telva?"
In the apartment’s living room, Brandon asked casually. The woman known by the codename Mist-Swallow thought for a moment with a nervous look on her face before answering the uninvited guest seated on her couch.
"Back during one of our gatherings, Mr. Stepstone once told us that if we had an urgent need to trade outside of those meetings, we could go to a certain place. They deal in many mystical items there, but the prices are usually much higher than what we’d pay at a gathering, and the goods are on a higher tier. It’s not recommended for lower-level practitioners..."
As Mist Swallow explained, Brandon’s eyes lit up, and he continued asking.
"From your description, it really sounds like the place I’m looking for. Could you tell me exactly where it is?"
"According to Mr. Stepstone, it’s in Pebble Alley off Silver Staff Street in the Eastwater Bay District. In that alley, there’s a shop called Jose’s Clock Shop. If you go in and say you want to buy a ‘Stoneheart watch,’ the clerk will take you to the trading area..."
"A clock shop, huh? Got it. Have you been there yourself before? Anything I should keep in mind?"
"Mm… I’ve only been there once, just to look for some herbs. But after asking the prices, I found them much too high compared to the gatherings, so I didn’t buy anything… As for things to note—well, the shopkeeper there is kind of harsh. He’s strict with the clerks—will scold them over even minor mistakes. If you go there, it’s best to talk directly to the clerks. The shopkeeper’s not very easy to deal with."
Hearing that, Brandon nodded and said, "Understood. Thank you for your help, Miss Mist-Swallow. Your information will save me a lot of trouble."As he spoke, Brandon reached into his coat pocket and placed a small envelope on the living room table, then added.
"This contains a few insights I’ve gathered along the path of mystical study. You can take a look—consider it my payment. Just make sure you take the proper cognitive poison precautions when reading it. I’ve written out the correct reading rhythm and sequence."
"This… thank you so much! It’s an honor to have been able to help you!"
Mist-Swallow’s eyes lit up at the sight of the envelope, and she gave Brandon a formal bow. She had never expected this powerful Awakened to actually offer compensation—she’d only hoped to safely send him on his way, never thinking she’d gain anything from the encounter.
"It’s nothing. Just helping one another. The mystic path is full of dangers. You should take care."
Brandon said as he took one last sip of tea, stood up, and, after putting on his hat, walked to the door. Under Mist Swallow’s nervous gaze, he opened the door.
"By the way, the tea in your house is quite nice."
With those words, Brandon left, closing the door behind him and leaving Mist-Swallow staring at it in stunned silence.
…
At a restaurant not far from Gold Grace Neighborhood, Dorothy sat at her table enjoying a slice of cake while studying a city map of Telva laid out in front of her, confirming the location Mist-Swallow had mentioned.
“Eastwater Bay District… Let’s see. Doesn’t look too far—should be within a kilometer of here. In that case, I’ll just have Brandon grab a cab straight there.”
Having acquired enough local intel from a Telva-based mystic practitioner, Dorothy wasted no time. Under her control, the corpse marionette Brandon hailed a taxi from near Gold Grace Neighborhood and headed straight for the area Mist-Swallow had described.
Earlier that morning, Dorothy had gone to several herb shops in Telva likely to be frequented by local mystical researchers, and she stationed several dog corpse marionettes outside. Using their sense of smell, they sniffed out the scents clinging to the customers—combinations of herbs, minerals, and peculiar residues that might reveal someone’s involvement in mysticism. It was just like how she’d once used a dog marionette to sniff out the living Brandon in Igwynt.
While not as precise as a Scent-Tracking Sigil, the dogs’ noses worked well enough for her needs.
And so far, everything was going smoothly. Dorothy had not only succeeded in acquiring information about the White Craftsmen’s Guild, but she’d also tossed Miss Mist-Swallow a little bonus—some beginner-level advancement rituals, a cognitive poison prevention method circulated within the Historical Scripture Department of the Radiance Church, and some harmless body-enhancement spiritual techniques.
"Alright, time to focus on this hideout. Let’s hope they’ve got what I need…"
With that thought, Dorothy, having finished her cake, called a waiter over and ordered a cup of black tea. She sipped her tea calmly as she waited for Brandon, far away, to arrive at the destination.
As time passed, the carriage carrying Brandon finally reached Silver Staff Street in the Eastwater Bay District. Once he got off, Dorothy had him search along the otherwise ordinary-looking street. After asking a few pedestrians for directions, he finally found the alley called Pebble.
Under Dorothy’s control, Brandon stepped into the narrow alley paved with smooth cobblestones. Unlike the dark and grimy alleys of the city’s west side, this one was clean and orderly, with plenty of shops and foot traffic. After just a short walk, Brandon spotted his target: a watch shop named José’s Clock Shop.
He glanced at the modest sign and peered into the display window, where a large standing clock coated in a light layer of dust stood. Without hesitation, Dorothy had Brandon push open the door and enter.
The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the sound of ticking. Inside the quaint, old-fashioned shop, numerous wall clocks hung along the walls, all ticking softly. Each had intricately designed faces and hands slowly and faithfully tracking time—most of them showing around 3:30 PM.
In addition to the wall clocks, there were tall, elegant grandfather clocks lining both sides of the shop. Directly opposite the entrance stood a glass display case filled with pocket watches. Behind it, two young male clerks sat looking somewhat bored. Upon seeing Brandon enter, a flicker of caution passed through their eyes. One of them stood and greeted him:
"Welcome, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Brandon didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he took a slow walk around the store, surveying the clocks lining the walls and the various grandfather clocks. Only after taking in everything did he casually walk up to the glass case and begin inspecting the pocket watches.
"Is your boss not around today?" he asked, still looking down at the watches.
"Mr. Felipe stepped out. Do you need to speak with him?" the clerk responded cautiously.
"No, I was just asking. I’ve heard he’s a skilled craftsman, and I’m a bit of a clock enthusiast myself. Thought I’d drop by to see his work. It’s a pity he’s not in."
Still speaking casually, Brandon let his gaze settle on a particularly ornate watch with intricate engraving.
"How much is this one?"
"Ah… please give me a moment, sir… This one’s 80 Bitas," the clerk said after examining it briefly.
Bitas were the currency of Cassatia, roughly 140 Bitas to 1 Pound.
"Alright. I’ll take it."
Dorothy had already prepared the local currency the day before, so she made Brandon hand over the appropriate amount. After accepting the payment, the clerk handed him the watch. Brandon gave it a cursory glance, then tucked it away without setting the time. Spotting a display of gift boxes on the shelf behind the counter, he put on a more serious expression and said:
"By the way, I’m looking for something else. Do you happen to carry any Stoneheart watches?"
The moment he said the words, both clerks stiffened slightly. Then one of them nodded solemnly and replied.
"Ah, yes, we do carry those. But due to their rarity, we don’t display them. Please come with me to take a look."
With that, the clerk left the counter and opened a small side door. Without hesitation, Brandon followed.
Down a narrow hallway they went, until they reached a dimly lit stone chamber illuminated by a few gas lamps. The thick stone walls were unbroken except for a small window in the wall ahead—reinforced by crossed steel bars. Only a small slot at the bottom allowed for the exchange of goods, resembling a reinforced bank teller window from Dorothy’s past life, but with even more extreme security measures. The steel and stone were clearly resistant to all but the most powerful mystical abilities.
"This is where you’ll find what you’re looking for. Please complete your transaction quickly and then leave," the clerk said before turning and exiting the chamber.
Brandon, scanning his surroundings, stepped up to the secured slot and spoke evenly.
"Do you have any mystical texts with Stone theme? How many?"
Brandon finished speaking and then stood silently in place, waiting. Not long after, a heavy voice emerged from the other side of the transaction slot.
“Stone-themed mystical texts… We have them here. Three volumes in total.”
“What’s the price for the three?”
“Three mystical texts. 550 Bitas each. 550 Bitas, 550 Bitas, 550 Bitas. Do you need the titles?” the voice behind the slot continued.
Dorothy mentally did the math—this came to about 1650 Pounds in total. She had exchanged around 2000 Pounds’ worth of Bitas, so she could afford it.
“No need to report the titles. Deal.”
Dorothy had Brandon reply as such, then produced an unmarked check along with some cash and passed it through the slot. After a short wait, three waxed paper bundles were handed back through.
“Thank you for your patronage.”
Receiving the bundles, Brandon left the stone room and returned to the main area of the clock shop. Under the watchful gazes of the two clerks, he exited back into Pebble Alley.
Carrying the newly bought mystical texts, Brandon made his way out to the street. Unlike Brandon, who was striding through the bustling city, Dorothy remained seated in the restaurant, lost in thought. Her mind drifted back to the moment just before entering José’s Clock Shop, recalling every detail.
"There was a thin layer of dust on the standing clock in the display window—it hasn’t been wiped in a while."
Then she reviewed the store interior—her attention turning to the floor and the wall clocks.
"The floor was a little dirty, so it hasn’t been cleaned regularly. The clocks on the wall were all slightly behind. These mechanical clocks from this era need regular adjustment to stay accurate… That kind of lax maintenance is odd for a clock shop."
Next, she remembered when she bought the pocket watch.
"I bought a fairly expensive watch, but the clerk neither adjusted the time nor offered a gift box. This level of service… If that harsh-sounding manager Felipe had been present, he’d have chewed them out for sure. Just how long has he been gone for the clerks to slack off this badly?"
Still deep in thought, Dorothy had Brandon continue walking until he reached another clock shop along the road. Without hesitation, he entered and said to the owner.
“Boss, could you appraise this pocket watch for me?”
“Certainly, sir…”
The owner took the watch and examined it carefully with a loupe. After a while, he gave his verdict.
“Sir, this watch is excellently made—a true piece of craftsmanship, definitely by a skilled horologist. Compared to standard watches, it would fetch a higher price. If you were to sell it, I’d offer you 200 Bitas.”
“Ah, I see. Thank you. I’m not looking to sell right now. Here’s a fee for the appraisal—thanks for your help.”
Brandon retrieved the watch. Under Dorothy’s guidance, he then began wandering the city, visiting multiple clock shops and pawnshops to get further appraisals. In every place, the estimated value ranged from 150 to 300 Bitas, significantly higher than the 80 Bitas Dorothy had paid.
“Heh… So the clerk who sold me this watch didn’t know its real value. He’s clueless about pricing.”
Back at the restaurant, Dorothy smirked slightly.
“A front shop for the White Stone Craftsmen’s Guild being run so sloppily… Taking a loss like this? That’s not like them at all. The Golden Covenant Bank in Tivian, for example, handles even mundane banking services with excellence.”
Her curiosity about the clock shop was growing.
Then, under Dorothy’s control, Brandon headed to a quiet riverside spot. Once alone, he unwrapped the waxed paper bundles. Inside were two worn booklets and a disorganized manuscript. Dorothy didn’t bother reading the contents yet. Instead, she activated her spiritual vision and quickly scanned them for signs of mystical properties.
On the back inside cover of one of the old booklets, she discovered a faint spiritual residue.
It was a trace of Lantern spirituality—a marker often used to encode direction or safekeeping. Upon closer inspection, Dorothy recognized it as a marker sigil that had been pasted there.