The Boundless Prophecy

Chapter 1 (1.6(a) Jaglee - The Talent Scout & The Bar Owner)

Scott raised his mug, feigning a sip from the empty vessel, his voice louder as the bar emptied out. "Guys, shall we resume our talk about Reolan City?" The fading crowd made his words more audible.

Thernon shook his head, laughing softly. "Alright, Scott, we'll discuss it on our way home." He guided Scott up from his seat, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Then, turning to Wallace, Thernon inclined his head toward Xanthe. "Are you seeing her home tonight?"

Xanthe, struggling to keep her eyelids open from the hearty ale and stories, seemed lost in her thoughts.

Wallace, taken aback by the question, hesitated. He had assumed Thernon would accompany the girls home as he usually did. "Um, I might..."

Caren, despite her fair share of drinks, remained composed. She rose gracefully, showing no sign of inebriation. "It seems Wallace will stay for a chat with Jaglee. I'll take Xanthe home."

Caren stole a sideways glance at her best friend, unsure if Xanthe had been privy to their conversations. Even if Caren was feeling the effects of the alcohol, she showed no signs of it; her self-control was something Wallace always admired.

"Thank you for looking after her," Wallace murmured, feeling a twinge of regret for not taking the responsibility himself.

Caren shrugged in response, her gesture leaving Wallace puzzled. As Thernon assisted Scott out, Xanthe, surprisingly steady despite appearing tipsy, required minimal support from Caren as they walked toward the front door. Wallace bid farewell to his friends and remained seated at the table.

Eventually, the bar was left with only Wallace, the bar owner, a barboy, and a female bartender. The trio didn't seem bothered by the lone customer lingering after the bar's closing time, as if they were accustomed to his presence.

Wallace absentmindedly tapped his empty whiskey glass on the table, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the golden liquid in the glass while his thoughts drifted far away.

The bartender, with short green hair and heavy makeup that concealed her pupils, shot a few glances in Wallace's direction. She busied herself with cleaning and wiping the mugs that the generous bar owner had filled with ale for the patrons. Meanwhile, the barboy diligently cleared and wiped down the other tables, pointedly avoiding the one where Wallace sat.

Jaglee set the mop aside and walked over to the bar counter, pouring two glasses of whiskey before joining Wallace.

Wallace snapped back to the present when Jaglee placed the glasses in front of him. He shook his head gently. "Too much for tonight. I've got work tomorrow." Politely, he pushed the whiskey back toward the bar owner.

Jaglee seemed unfazed by the refusal and took a sip himself, exhaling contentedly. "And yet, you're still here?"

Wallace shrugged, trying to make his lingering seem more casual. "Thought I might lend a hand with the wine, or maybe blending it, since I'm here."

The bar owner, seeing through Wallace's casual excuse, nodded in a playful manner before taking another sip of the whiskey. "Ah, I see."

Jaglee had been a significant figure in Wallace's life for as long as he could remember. He was almost a fatherly figure, someone who had given Wallace an incredible new lease on life—a debt Wallace felt he could never fully repay.

Before owning the Harmonica Hurricane Bar, Jaglee had been a talent scout trained by a Summerstone scholar specializing in talent scouting. His entire adult life had revolved around scouting for gifted individuals. After graduating from Summerstone, he was dispatched to search for talented youth in the human world, much like the rest of the scouts.