After a few adjustments (and a lot of complaining) to the main workroom below, Lewis was finally given a spot at the corner of the office. Overall, it was a cozy spot that gave him a view outside the window and a little privacy from the controlled chaos of the writer’s partition. 

David had cheerfully unloaded a stack of documents that had been accumulating in one of the boxes from the archives, telling Lewis to organize them into their correct files and finish filing the expense reports for the month. From the corner of Lewis’ eye, he could see that many of the papers had unidentified stains and creases due to improper care. When told of this. David laughed it off stating “We tend to be rather careless with our papers” and went back to his table to finish writing. 

Lewis sat back staring in despair at the mess in front of him, Even the technological offices at the Dryden Company were more organized than this! Did I really join this newspaper just to become a part-time accountant and librarian? He estimated that it would take at least two hours for him to sort through the relevant papers in front of him. Once he finished cursing out the company in his head, Lewis began to begrudgingly file through the different documents.  

As he looked through the papers, he noted that most of them seemed to be related to reports and stories about the newspaper's foray into the industrialization zone in Conant City. 

Many of the stories were personal accounts by Regis who had invested hundreds of pounds into purchasing food and resources for the children of the slums. Regis does not seem all that bad. Lewis mumbled to himself while chewing on the tip of the pen. Honestly, the journalists here have done so much more for the community than the tycoons who should be taking care of those people.

One report detailed a threatening note that Regis received from a noted factory manager for Necker Industries. Inside, the paper offered 500 pounds if he would stop publishing about the plight of working-class families. At the very bottom, it warned of grave consequences if the company continued printing out negative stories. I’m impressed by Regis, most people would have quit the job or taken the money if they received such a letter. Lewis sighed regretfully; this is what I thought my job would look more like instead of sitting in a chair filing these reports!

Throughout the whole period, he could hear the animated discussion between the other workers about their life and their plans for their time after work. At 1, David walked up to Lewis and said grumpily, “It’s break time for everyone, do you want to join us?” Lewis nodded in agreement and walked towards the couches.

When he sat down, one of the men, Sigurd gave him a look and grunted out, “Good job”. Lewis looked at him in bewilderment wondering what he had done. Sigurd was a large, bearded man with coal-black hair and a bushy beard. He has some Feysac blood in him, Lewis thought.

The other man, John, explained in a deep gravelly voice, “We do this to all newcomers, consider it part of the hazing ritual. “ 

David added, “Most of the people who want to join us do not understand the work that we put in behind our articles. This is a way to test your resolve to see if you genuinely care about the stories and the process.” 

John smirked and pushed up his glasses, “We like to take bets to see how long initiates would last filing through those stupid papers. Unfortunately, David bet against you and lost” 

Betting? I’m glad that I did not voice out my displeasures to anyone in this room otherwise I might have gotten fired! Lewis gave David a look of disappointment mixed with hurt; He didn’t think I would last? 

Noticing Lewis’ glance in his direction, David shrugged apologetically, “Hey, you did not seem too impressed when I mentioned the work that you would have to do with the papers, and I thought I could have made an easy soli. Also, you looked quite the fop when I first saw you in that suit” He reached out and offered a hand for a truce, and Lewis, not wanting to make any enemies on the first day, shook it. 

Inwardly, he fumed. What is wrong with this suit? It might seem a little tad overkill for the office, but it fits! 

“So, you currently owe me two soli and eightpence,” Sigurd bragged to David, “When are you going to pay up?” 

“You also owe me one soli,” piped up Stephanie.  

Faced with the barrage of demands, David raised his hands saying, “Don’t worry, I will pay you guys back once we get our money at the end of the week. Besides, who is to say you guys would be the ones who owe me money in the future?.”  

Lewis interrupted the banter between the writers, “When would I meet Regis and the other people currently taking down stories? I thought he was coming in today?” 

The other writers looked at each other before David responded, “There’s probably a good chance that you won’t meet Regis until the end of the week.” 

Lewis was taken aback by that response, “Until the end of the week?” he repeated curiously. From what he knew about how newspapers operated, most writers and journalists were required to meet at least twice a week, once to explain the story that they were going to focus on and another time to meet right before the paper was published. 

“Regis and a few others have been working on this story for the past two weeks,” John explained, “Frankly, even I’m not fully aware of all the details myself, since Regis tends to be rather secretive about the work that he does” He took a sip from his mug of coffee and smacked his lips appreciatively, “He has a lot of enemies as well with the articles that he has published in the past.” 

I would not be surprised based on the letters and complaints that I’ve read that were addressed to him, Lewis kept his expression blank as he followed the conversation 

“I’ve only seen Regis twice during the past two weeks,” Stephanie chimed in, “He forgot his keys one time, and the other time, he went into the storage room to retrieve a few objects” 

“Enough speculation” John interrupted, “Regardless of what Regis does during his absence, we know that his stories and scoops are always good. This is not the first time, and it certainly will not be the last time Regis disappears for a while. What I want to know is has anyone heard about the new airship route that the military developed from Conant City to the Rorsted Archipelago?  

“Yeah, I’ve seen the new station and airships as well! They added in more seating and spaces for passengers to disembark. The airships are twice as big as the old ones that were being used” Stephanie replied. She rummaged through her pockets before bringing out two pieces of paper, “I purchased two tickets for me and my boyfriend for our vacation next month” 

Seeing as the conversation had begun to splinter off, Lewis went back to his table to finish organizing the rest of the documents and reviewing financial invoices.  

At 5 P.M, the office began to empty as Sigurd and John left for the day. Stephanie was the next to go and David walked up to Lewis to tell him that his day was over. 

“It’s time?” Lewis looked up blearily from a stack of meticulously organized folders. He had spent nearly the entire day working on finishing the financial statement for the month. 

“Yes,” David emphasized as he grabbed the folders and shoved them into a box. “I’ll be the last person to lock up the building since I have the keys.” While Lewis was putting on his suit, David began pushing him out of the room, insisting that he needed rest.  

The sun was setting while Lewis walked out of the building.  Dammit, I still need to head to Porass Street, he grumbled to himself when he remembered that he still had to go to Mr. Oswald's to pay for their monthly expenses on gas and water. 

 

 

…  

 

 

“Ah, hello there Mr. Overton. Are you here to pay for your expenses for the month?” an elderly man looked up as Lewis entered the office. Mr. Oswald was an elegantly dressed man in his late 60s. He had a salt and pepper beard and hazy blue eyes. 

“Yes, I am Mr. Oswald,” Lewis responded politely. Cameron Oswald was one of the most reputable property owners in the city known for his deep generosity and reasonable rental rates. 

He had spent much of his life out at sea before settling down in Conant City where he established a land-owning company.  

“Excellent, and I would also like to extend my apologies for my absence yesterday if you tried to enter,” Mr. Oswald said while standing up and walking toward a nearby bookcase. He walked with a slight limp on his left leg, a byproduct of a fight with a pirate. The proprietor thumbed through several folders before pulling out a thick binder.  

“No trouble at all,” Lewis replied as he took out his wallet ready to make the payment. He had taken out more money the night before in case they owed more money than he predicted.  

“Hmm, the expenses for your family this month are 6 soli and 3 pence”, Mr. Oswald read while examining the folder.  

Huh? That is even more than I predicted at the maximum? Lewis raised his eyebrows. Normally, he tended to be very accurate when it came to estimating the expense reports for his family, courtesy of his bookkeeping.  

“6 soli and 3 pence?” Lewis asked curiously. While it was more than he expected, Lewis still had enough money to pay for the expenses.  

Mr. Oswald, noticing Lewis’ surprise explained, “The recent storms that have been affecting travel in the Sonia Sea have also held back some of the ships that carry the normal stock of whale oil and supplies we use to run the houses. I’ve tried my best to tone down the prices and this is the most I can go down without losing money in return” 

“I would never doubt your intentions sir,” Lewis said sincerely while handing over the money. “Besides, I can never forget the help you gave to my father and mother when they first came to Conant City.” 

“It’s my pleasure to help out, Mr. Overton, “the landlord took the money and placed it in an open drawer. He took out a pipe and began smoking it, “I’ll send your family an invoice next week to document the process,” he said between puffs.  

Lewis thanked the old man before excusing himself from the office. He was walking along the darkened streets when he heard a sudden shout and a loud crash that followed. 

BAANNGG 

Lewis whirled around, seeing the wreckage that was caused after a carriage had crashed into another carriage while the former was turning around in a corner. One man was lying on the ground, his arm bent at an irregular angle. The nearby men rushed over, trying to drag the injured passengers out of the street.  

When they tried moving the man with the broken arm, he started screaming in pain and thrashed around. Lewis froze, that scream had sounded exactly the ones he had heard in his dreams. What is happening? This looks exactly like what I experienced in my dream last night!  

Clutching his head, he took an unsteady step back. Fuck, my head hurts so much right now. 

“Are you all right, son? "Lewis heard an unfamiliar voice as a hand reached out, steadying his shoulders. He turned around to see an old man with gray hair smiling at him. He wore a black robe with a symbol of a red semi-circle surrounded by stars. It was the Dark Sacred Emblem! 

The old man, seeing Lewis glance at his robes, introduced himself, “I am Bishop Rand of the Church of the Evernight Goddess. I noticed that you seemed unsteady and decided to offer my aid.” He took out a handkerchief and offered it to Lewis, who took it and started wiping his heavily perspiring forehead. 

“Thank you for your help” Lewis thanked the bishop who remained there smiling at him. What does he want? A reward? He wondered. He dismissed that thought as it came to him; the Church of the Evernight Goddess was the most benevolent of the three churches in Loen.  

“I noticed that you seemed rather distressed about something” Bishop Rand explained serenely, “Can I invite you into our cathedral to relax and decompress?” 

Lewis was about to refuse until he realized that the elderly man wanted to tell him something. 

“Of course, Bishop Rand, I would be happy to join you,” Lewis agreed. The bishop nodded and led Lewis to the Cathedral of Eternity, the headquarters of the Evernight Church in Conant City. While the Church of the Evernight Goddess was the smallest in Conant City, the cathedral was still large enough to fit an entire block of houses inside it.  

 As he walked in, the tumultuous thoughts in his head faded away and were replaced with a soothing silence. Bishop Rand did not say a word and just closed his eyes while the two of them sat in silence, in one of the pews. After a while, the bishop opened his eyes and asked Lewis, “Do you feel better now?” 

Lewis nodded in affirmation and got up ready to go. He faced the elderly man and traced a moon onto his chest, “Praise the Lady!” he said, bowing. 

“May the Goddess Bless You” the bishop gently responded with the same gesture.  

The young man turned around and left the building. The bishop stayed there looking at the receding back. “What did he do to encounter that misfortune?” he murmured.  

     

Authors Note: Happy Weekend Everyone!