The Boundless Prophecy

Chapter 2 (2.5(b) Oceanic Woods)

Instructing Wallace and Caren to wait, Madam Monette ventured into the apothecary to handle paperwork for recruiting the pickers. Wallace and Caren welcomed the chance to have a private discussion, seizing the moment of solitude to delve into their concerns.

Wallace patted his pocket, where the brief reply from the dean was safely tucked away. "The response seems rather concise, doesn't it?"

He'd known the dean since his early days as a junior healer at Crissaven Sanatorium. The dean was a stern figure, his emotions veiled behind a stoic facade. Despite his reserved nature, he had always shown kindness and a sense of responsibility towards his staff. Caren had penned a letter outlining their predicament at Angelwing, yet the dean's reply seemed lacking in concern for their safety. Wallace shook his head in disbelief.

Caren, cautious of their surroundings, scanned the area before going deeper into conversation, ensuring no one was listening in. "It seems like he discussed this decision with someone," she remarked, referencing the dean's use of 'we' in the letter.

Wallace had also picked up on this subtle detail.

Could this collaboration have influenced the letter's brevity?

"I wonder who that person might be. Could it have been the deputy dean?" Her expression darkened in thought.

Wallace's face soured at the mention of the deputy dean. The relationship between the dean and his deputy was known to be strained, making it highly improbable that the dean would seek the deputy's counsel on such a matter. He shook his head; the possibility seemed slim.

"Perhaps it's someone of significant importance the dean is engaging with?" Caren's tone carried more certainty this time, hinting at her conviction. She glanced at Wallace, gauging his thoughts before diving further into her speculation. The team had been curious about the identity of this significant individual, but excessive speculation could cloud their judgment and commitments.

"I... I'm not entirely certain," Wallace stuttered, acknowledging Caren's probable accuracy, feeling the fog of uncertainty clouding his thoughts amidst their current circumstances.

Engrossed in their private conversation, they became aware of more pickers gathering in the courtyard. The crowd quickly grew to around twenty individuals. Wallace doubted Madam Monette would assign all of them to the Oceanic Woods. He wasn't familiar with the going rate for pickers at Angelwing, but deploying the entire group would likely incur substantial expenses.

Ceasing their discussion, they sensed the increased risk of eavesdropping with the growing number of pickers surrounding them.

In the background, the faint murmur of conversations among the pickers mingled with their own thoughts. The newcomers seemed curious about the two unfamiliar faces amidst them.

After about ten minutes, Madam Monette emerged from the apothecary, her gaze scanning the crowd as if searching for someone. As the pickers noticed her arrival, all other conversations dwindled.

The bright afternoon sunlight made it difficult to discern details, but Madam Monette narrowed her eyes, scanning the assembly until she finally spotted her intended target—a centaur standing in a corner. Waving at him, she beckoned him over.

The centaur gracefully made his way to Madam Monette at her signal, his hooves clicking against the rocky courtyard. His composed demeanour set him apart from the crowd vying for Madam Monette's attention. With a half bow, he stepped forward, displaying his respect.

"Yanape, please gather those few who managed to procure a ton of Three-Leaved Morel just last week," Madam Monette instructed.

The announcement spread disappointment throughout the crowd, evoking whispers and sighs. Gradually, those not chosen departed the courtyard, regrouping at Angelwing's main gates.