Chapter 49: Aftermath
The Capital roared with rumors and panic, but Raven walked through the chaos like a ghost—black-haired, young, unnoticed. Only fifteen, yet the Empire shook beneath his footsteps.
He approached Crown's Tavern, its doors guarded and sealed. The once-lively place now sat in uneasy silence.
I wonder who'll inherit this place… will everything the Prime Minister owned go to the Wizard Alliance?
[Most likely. So—what are your plans now?] Zera asked, voice cool and steady.
Raven breathed out slowly.
'Now that the crisis is over, I need to slow down. My real enemies are the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance. And I'm only a Rank-1 Acolyte. I saved Aunt Shirley through tricks… I can't repeat that again.'
Images of Royal Guards dragging him away flashed through his mind.
'If I'm caught again, they'll execute me as a traitor.'
He continued walking toward the residential district, boots brushing against cobblestones.
His pace slowed. His thoughts did too.
'With my current low affinities, I'll need at least five years to comprehend all spell models and reach Rank-2 Radiant Warlock. Unless I advance my alchemy to Adept Rank, I can't speed up my progression.'
[Do you have a better idea?]
'I'll find people like Rebecca. Hidden gems. And I'll make them my servants.'
[Servants? Not subordinates?] Zera sounded genuinely surprised.
'Subordinates betray. Servants don't.' Raven's gaze darkened. 'I'll build a small elite group across different classes. When they're strong enough, they'll form their own factions. And if even one becomes another Mercenary Guild… I'll have a faction stronger than any Noble family.'
[You're planning far ahead, lad.]
'Yes. And someday, I'll build a Magic Tower. Like the Rebirth Tower in Runeth's memories.'
Guards stationed near Crown's Tavern barely glanced at him as he passed. His true identity might be exposed, but no one had seen his face yet.
'The photograph will take hours to develop… I need to finish everything here and disappear before it spreads.'
He reached Judith's mansion. The guards bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Sir Raven."
Inside, lavender and polished wood mingled into a comforting scent. Chandeliers glowed softly overhead. The mansion felt safe—deceptively so.
At the entrance stood Butler Philip, hair silver and perfectly combed, a file tucked under his arm.
"Welcome back." He bowed. "Lady Judith is expecting you."
Raven followed him through long corridors lined with tapestries until they entered the main hall.
He froze.
There, on a velvet armchair, sat Shirley. Pale. Exhausted. Her wrist heavily bandaged—her missing hand hidden beneath thick cloth.
Lauren stood beside her, applying a glowing blue potion with a trembling frown.
After pouring the last vial on the severed area, Lauren shook her head.
"It's futile," she murmured. "Even a Rare-Rank potion can't regrow a hand. Too much time has passed."
Judith crossed her arms. "Even Legendary potions can't regrow limbs. They can only reattach if preserved well."
"It's fine," Shirley said softly. "I don't need it. I'm only happy that my boy is alive… and fighting for me."
Raven's heart cracked.
He rushed to her, dropping to his knees, gripping her bandaged wrist as though she might disappear.
"Aunt Shirley… I thought I lost you."
Her remaining hand stroked his hair gently, warmth radiating from her despite her pain. Judith and Lauren stepped back, allowing the moment its space.
When Raven finally steadied himself, he wiped his eyes and faced Judith.
"Lady Judith… I need a favor." His voice firmed. "Protect my aunt until I'm strong enough to do it myself."
Judith's lips curved into an amused smile.
"Do you understand what you're asking? You challenged the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance today. Helping you will cost me."
[Use the affinity potion formulas. But don't give them for free.] Zera reminded.
Raven inhaled. "I know. So I have a proposal."
Judith lifted a brow. "Go on."
"I want a mutual alliance. I'll give you formulas for basic elemental Affinity Potions—Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, Darkness. Only Low, Intermediate, and High ranks. My teacher forbids sharing anything beyond that."
Judith's eyes sharpened.
So that's the angle. A negotiation, not generosity. Smart boy.
"And what do you want in return?" she asked.
"For each formula, a fair price. A Low-Rank Affinity Potion sells for 5,000 gold at minimum. Sometimes 20,000. Even after ingredient costs, the profit is huge. I want fifty percent."
Judith laughed softly.
"Raven, sometimes I use multiple ingredient sets for one potion. Profit barely reaches 1,000 at times."
Raven didn't react. He knew she was lying.
His own 30% success rate was mediocre—but Judith had near-perfect success. She could produce a hundred low-rank potions a day if she wished.
"And Low-Rank isn't attractive to buyers," she added. "I'll give you twenty percent profit. But I'll also give you full patent rights."
Raven clenched his jaw.
Twenty percent was miserable.
But Aunt Shirley's protection mattered more than gold.
"…Fine."
Judith nodded approvingly. "Next, the Intermediate Rank."
She took control of the negotiation this time.
"Intermediate potions are worth far more. Nobles will pay massive sums. But ingredients will be rare, and crafting difficulty rises sharply. I'll give you twenty-five percent."
Raven wanted to push—but stopped himself. He gave a small nod.
"And the High Rank?" Judith asked.
"Forty percent," he said. "And I'll give those formulas after one year."
Judith grinned. "Deal… Rebel Prince."
Raven blinked. "Rebel Prince?"
"That's what the news is calling you. And your father."
Raven's expression hardened. "Let them talk. It changes nothing."
Judith smirked. "Good. Now let's seal this properly. Magic Contract—otherwise I won't trust you."
"I was going to suggest the same," Raven said.
Philip returned with a black velvet box. Judith opened it, revealing shimmering parchments that pulsed with runic power.
"These are Magic Contract parchments," she said. "Created by the will of a Higher Being. Break the terms… and you lose your strength. Some even die."
'Zera, is that real?'
[Yes. Even Judith can't break such a contract.]
'What's a Higher Being?'
[Rank-6 and above. They wield laws, unbound by the world's limits.]
Raven exhaled softly.
"Let's sign."
Judith placed the parchment on a polished table. She drew a glowing ornate quill—clearly an artifact.
"We speak the terms," she said. "The quill writes. Then we sign… with blood."
The quill hovered in the air, its faint glow tracing runes across the shimmering parchment. Raven stepped forward, shoulders straight, voice steady.
"I, Raven SillalusJorvot, the 66th Prince of the Zenith Empire, hereby agree to provide Lady Judith with the formulas for Low-Rank and Intermediate-Rank affinity potions of Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, and Darkness. The formulas for High-Rank potions will be given after one year. In exchange, I retain full patent rights for these formulas and will receive twenty percent of the profit from Low-Rank sales, twenty-five percent from Intermediate-Rank sales, and forty percent from High-Rank sales."
The quill wrote rapidly.
Judith's voice followed, clear and resonant.
"I, Judith, Legendary Rank Wizard and Vice-President of Crows' Misery, agree to Raven SillalusJorvot's terms. In return for the formulas, I will fulfill every condition stated and ensure the Prince's percentages are paid without fail."
The quill lifted itself, finishing the final stroke.
A bright glow rippled across the parchment.
Judith handed Raven a small golden pin. He pricked his thumb, letting a single drop of blood fall. His name flared into burning crimson letters. Judith pressed her own finger, her signature forming in radiant gold.
Light swallowed the parchment, rolled it into a scroll, and—
—vanished.
Judith exhaled, lips curling. "The contract is bound to our souls now. No turning back."
Raven nodded. "Good. Then I'll take ten of these parchments. I'll need them for future deals."
Judith blinked in surprise. "Each costs ten thousand gold. Are you sure?"
Raven grinned. "Can I pay later with the profits?"
"Haa… go on." She waved lazily.
Judith handed him ten parchments. Raven slipped them into his inventory. Then he requested paper and ink, sat at the table, and began writing formulas with swift, precise strokes.
Judith and Lauren watched in silence—amazed at how smoothly he wrote, as if copying something etched into his bones.
When he finished, he handed the sheets to Judith. Her eyes scanned the formulas, searching for mistakes.
She found none.
"…Impressive," she murmured.
Judith then grew serious. "Now tell me—how do I contact you? Once your face is public, coming here won't be possible."
"I'll contact you through my teacher's second disciple," Raven replied solemnly.
[Why expose your identity like this?] Zera sounded alarmed.
'I need another identity as cover. It'll avoid problems later. I'll explain after.'
Judith frowned. "Your teacher's second disciple? Who?"
"Thomas Holmes," Raven answered. "But keep that secret. If the Royal Family or Wizard Alliance know he's my junior, they might harm him."
Judith's eyes widened slightly. Then she nodded.
Raven turned to Shirley.
"Aunt… can we talk alone?"
"Go ahead," Judith said, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the hall.
…
Raven closed the door behind them. Shirley sat quietly, her bandaged wrist resting in her lap.
He knelt beside her.
"Aunt… focus on your health for now. I'll find a way to restore your hand. I swear it."
Her smile trembled as her eyes grew wet. "Just hearing that is enough. Don't destroy yourself for me, little one."
He swallowed. "I'm also worried about Athena. But after what I did today… I doubt the Emperor will act recklessly."
Shirley cupped his cheek with her remaining hand, warm and gentle.
"You're doing your best. Athena will be safe. Follow your teacher's words and become stronger. Lady Judith told me your teacher's strength is unfathomable. Become like him. Study well, eat well, and bathe with warm water. You always catch cold so easily."
"I'm not a child anymore," Raven muttered.
"You are," she said instantly.
He almost smiled—almost.
Her expression shifted. "How is your soul? Did your teacher cure that illness? If something happens to you… I won't survive it."
Raven's lips curved softly. "My soul is healed, Aunt. Completely. I reached peak Acolyte and gained a hundred and fifty years of lifespan. I'll live long—don't worry."
"That's wonderful!" Shirley exhaled shakily. She squeezed his arm. "And you seem to have found a way to improve your affinities. Good."
She paused, voice quieting.
"When you're strong—and have trusted allies—come take good care of your mother… your aunt… your sister."
Raven's breath caught.
He remembered the woman he saw in the hallway—her fierce argument with the advocate, her desperation to save Shirley.
Mother…
His heart twisted.
Shirley patted his head, as if reading his thoughts. "Don't be angry at my sister. She never wronged you."
Raven's lips tightened. "I know. But… I was dead to her for years. I don't know if she can even see me as her son."
"Silly child," Shirley whispered. "A mother's love doesn't die. Not in a decade, not in a century. Focus on growing stronger. I'll contact Athena and Jeanne by letters now that I'm safe."
She inhaled deeply. "When will we meet again? You'll be hiding for a while."
"I'm not sure, Aunt. But I'll send letters through my junior."
He hugged her gently before leaving the room.
…
Judith and Lauren were waiting.
"Thank you for everything," Raven said. "I won't forget this favor."
"Just don't die running from the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance's dogs, Rebel Prince," Judith said dryly.
"I won't."
His gaze shifted to Philip.
Judith's eyes flickered, and a telepathic whisper brushed Raven's mind:
I know you don't trust him. He's under my supervision. If he steps out of line, I'll kill him myself.
'Thank you.'
With a final bow, Raven left the mansion.
Outside, a sleek black carriage waited. Raven climbed in.
"Market Street."
"Yes, sir."
The carriage rolled forward. Moments later, several other carriages appeared from intersecting roads, following at controlled distances.
Raven peeled back a corner of the curtain.
Being followed, huh…
Market Street appeared ahead—crowded, loud, perfect for slipping away.
Raven activated Mind Eye. Time slowed. Every detail sharpened.
A small puppy shivered in a dark alley.
Raven smiled faintly and activated Shadow Shift.
His form dissolved into darkness and reappeared where the puppy was.
The puppy now sat in the carriage—warm, confused, and safe.
Raven crouched in the alley, unseen by anyone. As the carriages rolled past him, he exhaled softly and blended back into the crowd.
He tugged his bowler hat lower and cast Face Mimic—bones shifting, skin tone altering, eye color changing.
Thomas Holmes emerged from the shadows.
Raven shed his coat, stored it, pulled on a simple gray suit, and walked calmly through the evening bustle.
'I should check antique and artifact shops… maybe I'll get lucky.'
Monocle on eye, he browsed store after store—twenty and counting.
He found rare and even Epic artifacts… far out of reach.
Five hundred platinum for a Rare? That's fifty thousand gold…
Epic costs ten times that…
He left the last shop with a sigh.
He bought clothes and essentials, bathed at an inn, changed into clean attire, and walked back into the night.
[There are no divination-type skills on this continent. You're safe.]
'But what about the Wizard Alliance? Jamison had "Eye of Truth." Others must have similar abilities.'
[Possible… but if a diviner existed among them, they would've already hunted you.]
'Fair.'
Raven took a folded sheet of white paper from the inner pocket of his coat.
He unfolded it and examined the address written upon it.
109 Upper Thames Street, Market District.
Beneath it was a name.
Francis Ronalds.
During the past few days, Raven asked Jacob to do a background check on this guy.
From the information Jacob provided, Raven had learned that Ronalds belonged to a family of wholesale cheesemongers. After his father's death, the responsibility of managing the family business had fallen upon him. Yet business was not the only thing occupying the young man's attention. He had developed a fascination with electricity and had begun investigating whether its strange properties might be put to practical use.
Raven had no particular understanding of electricity himself.
He knew only what he had heard from Anastasia, the manager of the Mystic Cauldron: a man was experimenting with a peculiar phenomenon and believed it might eventually allow information to travel over a distance without being carried by a messenger.
That alone had been enough to interest him.
Raven folded the paper and put it away.
He then took a carriage and showed the address to the driver.
Raven climbed aboard, settled into the upholstered seat, and gave the coachman the address.
The carriage rolled into the streets.
The streets were alive with the sounds of commerce even though Prime Minister was dead. Merchants called to passing customers, carts rattled over the cobblestones, and horses pulled carriages through the crowded roads.
Raven watched the streets through the window.
Eventually, the carriage slowed before a commercial building on Upper Thames Street.
"Your destination, sir."
Raven stepped down and examined the premises.
The shop was a practical establishment rather than an impressive residence. Goods were arranged behind the counter, and shelves lined the walls. The smell of cheese mingled with that of wood, paper, and the street outside.
A sign identified the business.
Raven entered.
A small bell rang above the door.
Behind the counter, a man was examining a ledger. He appeared to be in his late twenties, with an attentive expression and the slightly distracted air of someone whose thoughts were occupied by something other than the work immediately before him.
He looked up.
"Good morning, sir. What may I do for you?"
Raven approached the counter.
"Are you Mr. Francis Ronalds?"
"I am."
"Thomas Holmes. I was given your address by Anastasia, the manager of the Mystic Cauldron."
Ronalds' expression changed slightly.
"Miss Anastasia?"
"She mentioned that you have been conducting experiments with electricity."
Ronalds looked at Raven for a moment, evidently trying to determine how much the visitor knew.
"She has a habit of encouraging people's curiosity," he remarked. "Though I did not expect that particular subject to bring someone to my shop."
"I am interested in communication devices."
"Communication devices?"
"Machines that allow people to exchange information over long distances. I heard that you were investigating whether electricity might make such a thing possible."
Ronalds put down his pen.
The businessman's distracted expression disappeared. In its place emerged the unmistakable interest of a man who had just encountered someone willing to discuss his favourite subject.
"Ah. Then you have heard something of my experiments."
"Only a little."
"How much is a little?"
Raven gave a small, honest smile.
"Enough to make me curious. Not enough to understand what you are doing."
Ronalds laughed.
"That is a far better answer than pretending to understand it."
He came around the counter.
"Come with me, Mr. Holmes. The shop is hardly the place for a proper discussion, and I should like to show you some of the things I have been attempting."
Raven followed him through a narrow doorway into a small workroom behind the shop.
The room contained a wooden table, several glass vessels, metal components, lengths of wire, notebooks, and instruments whose purposes Raven could not immediately identify.
Some of the apparatus appeared carefully assembled. Other pieces looked unfinished. A few sheets of paper were covered with diagrams, calculations, and handwritten observations.
Ronalds moved a stack of books aside to make room.
"I must warn you that this is all very much a work in progress."
"I expected as much."
"Did you?"
Raven paused.
"I mean, if the problem were already solved, I imagine I would have heard of it from more than one person."
Ronalds chuckled.
"An entirely reasonable observation."
He picked up a length of wire from the table.
"Tell me, Mr. Holmes. What do you know of electricity?"
Raven looked at the wire.
"Very little. I know that it can produce sparks, and that certain materials behave differently when exposed to it. Beyond that, I cannot claim any understanding."
"Have you ever conducted an experiment yourself?"
"No."
"Studied natural philosophy?"
"Not seriously."
Ronalds raised an eyebrow.
"Then I am curious. What precisely do you hope to learn here?"
"How your experiments work. What you are attempting to achieve. And whether the underlying idea is actually possible."
Ronalds studied him for a moment before nodding.
"An admirable place to begin."
He placed the wire on the table.
"Electricity is a curious thing. We can generate it, observe its effects, and make use of certain properties. Yet there remains much that we do not understand completely."
He picked up a small instrument.
"Consider this. When certain materials are rubbed together under suitable conditions, they acquire an electrical charge. That charge can produce observable effects. It may attract light objects, cause a spark, or influence another charged body."
Raven leaned forward.
"Then electricity is something that builds up on an object?"
"That is one way to describe certain electrical phenomena. But we must be careful. Electricity is not simply a substance that behaves identically in every circumstance. The effects depend upon the materials involved and the conditions under which the experiment is performed."
Raven frowned slightly.
"So the charge can be present without producing a visible spark?"
"Precisely."
"And if there is no visible spark, how do you know that anything has happened?"
Ronalds smiled.
"Now that is an excellent question."
He placed the instrument on the table.
"We require a means of detecting the effect. An instrument that responds to something our unaided senses cannot reliably observe."
He picked up two small pith balls suspended from fine threads.
"These, for instance, can be used to demonstrate electrical repulsion. When they acquire similar charges, they move apart. Their movement gives us an observable indication of what is occurring."
Raven examined them.
"So the instrument does not show electricity itself. It shows what electricity causes."
Ronalds went still for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Yes. That is a very useful distinction."
He set the apparatus down with renewed enthusiasm.
"Many beginners confuse the phenomenon with the means by which it is observed. You have already separated the two."
Raven did not feel particularly clever. He had merely tried to understand what the man was saying.
"Then your telegraph is an instrument for detecting electricity at a distance?"
"That is the general direction of my investigation, though I would not yet call the apparatus a completed telegraph."
Ronalds moved toward a diagram on the table.
"My question is whether an electrical effect produced here can be detected at another location. If it can, perhaps that effect can be used to convey a message."
Raven looked from the diagram to the wire.
"Why would the effect need to be sent through a wire? Could it not travel through the air?"
Ronalds considered the question.
"There are electrical phenomena that occur without a direct wire connecting the objects involved. But for the particular arrangement I am investigating, a conductor provides a means of establishing a controlled connection between the two ends."
He paused.
"The challenge is ensuring that the effect reaches the receiving instrument in a condition that can be detected reliably."
"Does the wire lose the electricity along the way?"
"That is one of the difficulties I am investigating. Electrical charge may escape through the surrounding materials, depending upon the arrangement. Insulation becomes important, particularly when dealing with a long conductor."
Raven nodded slowly.
"And if you manage to detect the signal at the other end, how do you know what it means?"
Ronalds' face brightened.
"Ah! You have arrived at the next problem."
He took a sheet of paper and began sketching a pair of circular dials.
"Suppose that two dials are arranged in the same manner, each bearing the alphabet. If both rotate at the same rate, then a particular position on one dial corresponds to the same position on the other."
He marked several letters around the circle.
"If I can produce a signal when the dial reaches a particular letter, the person at the other end might identify that letter on the corresponding dial."
Raven stared at the drawing.
"So you would not send the letter itself. You would send a signal telling the other person which letter to read."
"Exactly!"
Ronalds tapped the paper.
"The message would be represented by a sequence of signals. Each signal would indicate a particular letter, and the recipient would reconstruct the message from those letters."
Raven thought about it.
"But what happens if the two dials are not moving at exactly the same rate?"
Ronalds' smile faded into a thoughtful expression.
"Then the wrong letter might be read."
"Even if the signal reaches the other end correctly?"
"Yes."
"Then sending the signal is only part of the problem. You must also ensure that the receiver knows which letter the signal represents."
Ronalds looked at him with growing interest.
"Precisely. Synchronization is one of the difficulties. A signal that arrives without a reliable means of interpretation is of little practical use."
Raven leaned back.
"That sounds considerably more complicated than I expected."
"It is."
"Then why use rotating dials at all? Could you not have a different signal for every letter?"
Ronalds gave a short laugh.
"One could certainly investigate such an arrangement. But consider the machinery required to produce and distinguish a large number of different signals. Simplicity is important. An apparatus that works beautifully in a small experiment may become impractical when one attempts to extend it over a considerable distance."
Raven looked at the diagrams again.
"So you are trying to find a method that is simple enough to operate, reliable enough to trust, and capable of representing a message."
Ronalds fell silent.
Then he placed his hands on the table.
"Mr. Holmes, I believe you have understood the nature of the problem rather well."
Raven blinked.
"I have?"
"You may know little of electricity, but you are asking the right questions. You are not merely asking how the apparatus moves. You are asking what it must accomplish, what could cause it to fail, and how its results might be interpreted."
He gestured toward the papers.
"Those are useful habits in an experimenter."
Raven felt a little embarrassed by the praise.
"I am afraid I would not know where to begin if you asked me to construct any of these things."
"Naturally. Understanding the purpose of an experiment is not the same as understanding the science required to perform it."
Ronalds smiled.
"But the latter can be learned."
He returned to the table and picked up another sheet.
"There is also the matter of the electricity itself. One must understand how it is generated, how it behaves under different conditions, how it interacts with materials, and how its effects can be measured. Without that foundation, one risks mistaking an accidental result for a genuine discovery."
Raven watched as Ronalds added another diagram to the page.
"Have you been studying these things for long?" he asked.
"For several years, though my investigations have not always proceeded as I would have wished. I have had the advantage of learning from earlier scientific work, including the guidance of men who have devoted their lives to the subject."
"Then your telegraph is built upon discoveries made by others?"
"Of course. No investigator begins with complete knowledge. We examine what is already known, test it, correct our understanding where necessary, and attempt to discover something that has not yet been established."
Ronalds paused.
"That, at least, is what I hope to do."
Raven looked at the apparatus again.
He had expected to encounter a man with an unusual invention. Instead, he had found someone struggling with a series of interconnected questions, each of which opened the door to several more.
He was beginning to understand why the subject fascinated Ronalds.
"Mr. Ronalds," Raven said, "if I wanted to learn enough to understand your experiments properly, where should I begin?"
Ronalds regarded him thoughtfully.
"With the fundamentals. Not with the telegraph itself."
He walked to a shelf and began examining its contents.
"You should first learn about electrical charge, the ways in which it can be produced, the distinction between conductors and insulators, and the instruments used to observe electrical effects. Once you understand those principles, the reasoning behind my experiments will become considerably clearer."
He removed a thick book and placed it on the table.
"This contains a useful introduction to the subject."
Then he selected another volume.
"And this discusses experiments in greater detail. You will find descriptions of apparatus, observations, and explanations of the results. Some passages may be difficult at first, but do not allow that to discourage you."
Raven opened the first book and examined the unfamiliar diagrams.
There were illustrations of electrical machines, glass vessels, metal conductors, and instruments whose functions he could scarcely guess.
He turned a page.
Then another.
"Is this how you learned to perform your experiments?" he asked.
"Partly. Books are invaluable, but reading alone will not teach you everything. You must understand the principles and then examine how they behave in practice. A description of an experiment is not a substitute for performing it yourself."
Ronalds gathered several loose sheets from the table.
"These are copies of some of my own research notes and papers. They contain my observations and the reasoning behind certain arrangements I have been testing."
He handed them to Raven.
"I would prefer that you begin with the books before attempting to make sense of these. My notes assume a degree of familiarity with the subject, and I fear they will only confuse you if you approach them without preparation."
Raven accepted the papers carefully.
"Thank you. I shall study them."
"Do not hesitate to mark passages you find difficult. In fact, I would encourage you to write down your questions as they occur to you. A question that seems trivial at first may reveal a genuine gap in one's understanding."
Raven looked at the growing stack of books and papers.
"How long did it take you to become familiar with all this?"
Ronalds laughed.
"Long enough to discover how much I still do not know."
He shook his head.
"The more one investigates, the more questions appear. At first, you imagine that understanding one principle will solve a problem. Then you discover that the principle depends upon another, which depends upon yet another. Before long, a seemingly simple experiment has become an investigation into several different branches of natural philosophy."
Raven smiled.
"That sounds rather discouraging."
"Only if you expect to understand everything at once."
Ronalds closed the remaining book.
"Take your time, Mr. Holmes. Learn the fundamentals properly. If you return with questions, I shall be happy to discuss them with you."
"I intend to return."
"Good. I should like to hear what you make of the material."
Raven gathered the books and carefully arranged the loose papers between their covers.
Before leaving, he took another small sheet of white paper from his pocket and wrote down an address.
He handed it to Ronalds.
"This is where I am staying in Giaris City. If you ever need to contact me, or if you wish to discuss anything outside the shop, you may send a letter there."
Ronalds examined the address.
"Giaris City? That is some distance from here."
"Yes. But I expect to visit the capital again."
"Then I shall look forward to your next visit, Mr. Holmes."
Raven extended his hand.
"Thank you for your time, and for lending me these materials."
Ronalds shook it.
"You are welcome. I hope you find them useful."
"I shall do my best to understand them. And I will come by again after I have studied the books."
"Excellent. Bring your questions with you."
Raven returned to the shop, thanked Ronalds once more, and stepped outside.
He then took another carriage.
"To Garden Street."
The driver flicked the reins.
The night deepened.
The carriage vanished into the streets.