T25.3 The Sellsword, Part 3

Without a second thought, the Jumian placed the stick of blue cinnamon in a tiny spice box that he carried on his person.

Though he could roughly tell the moment he smelled the stick in which direction he was to go after he completed his task, he decided it was not important at present.

For now all he could do was to wait.

Surely, when given such a task one would forge ahead to gather information, perhaphs listen to a few rumors.

But the Jumian was not one for words.

In 20 calls of the cicada, his wait soon ended.

Placed before him brusquely by a coruplent waitress was a spherical pot much like that which was knitted to the banner outside.

After waiting for the waitress to disappear behind the curtains to the kitchen, the Jumian struck the pot with his finger, causing it to crack into a perfect halves, releasing a sweet aroma before him alongside the view of a translucent sphere, held up by 3 hexagonal pieces of pastry - what the people here called the Sugarmist Bulb.

As he took in the aroma of the Bulb - the strange humanoid apparitions made of mist began to manifest before his eyes as he closed them.

The ghostly spectres completely crowded the empty eatery in the Jumian's mind's eye.

He then clasped his hands and issued a command in his mind.

"Come forth - the one who knows best the nature of the Grand Blade of Thammu."

Silence - as motionlessness arrested the apparitions who were just a while ago moving about excitedly.

And soon all apparitions left but a single short and skinny apparition, who walked to seat before where the Unuthulian had once sat.

"You have come again, Hajer... Are you sure you want to be going to the Grand Blade?" the hollow but gentle voice of an elderly man seemed to emanate from the apparition.

"Tell me," the Jumian named Hajer replied.