My Life as Shadow Lord

Work and Jobs

Seriousness had set to me once we entered Mr.Fisher's room. The mark on my hand wasn't gone and I needed to find out what is was. Mr.Fisher sat down. Laying down the crates from the carriage into his tiny house at the back of the restaurant.

"Hey, come here," he called. He opened one of them to show small canisters of liquid. He slowly took one of them out. The glass canister held inside it a clear liquid with a yellow tinge. "This thing can make better fish in sorter amounts of time," he said excitedly. This gave him a grateful cheer to know his cooking was going to improve, I hadn't reacted the same way. The mark was of upmost importance to me. "Is there a library here?" I asked straight away. Mr.Fisher's excited face became wrecked.

"What do you want the library for?" I thought about a way I could carefully give an answer without any implications of me being a mass murderer.

"When they died," my heart ached as I whispered those words, "my mother taught me how to read and," I couldn't control it anymore, the tears came bursting through.

"She told me about libraries and their books and-," the sobs came after. Mr.Fisher consoled me. "I'm sorry boy," he began, "the library is no place for us."

"Why?" I curiously asked. Had my chances of obtaining knowledge withered?

"They only allow those with money there. Lots of money," he said almost despairingly. I looked down in sadness. Money wasn't a problem in the village. We shared everything we had, couldn't towns follow suit?

"We need money for the library. And that means work for that  money," he pointed at the crates.

"You just wait, I'll get you to the library," he said.

"Well, do you have any books of your own?" I asked. Mr.Fisher chuckled.

"I first have to put bread and water on our table, then a book can take some space."

We worked for days after that. Sometimes he would leave for a few hours, only to return with the yellow liquid to make his fish. I helped him cook and carry things and he served customers with full enthusiasm, a quality my mother had in herself as well. It reminded me of her healing. I saw her do it a few times. She knelt down to the floor and the person lay there as well. She put her hands together and said a few words. A glow would appear around us. The magic. It would flow around and glimmer into the injured and the wound would disappear along with the pain. It was bandits who showed me her violent powers. The power of destructive flames and shivering ice. Mr.Fisher showed me magic wasn't needed. He used a small stone to light a flame and cook the fish. He sometimes burnt his hands in the process and I showed him my basic healing prowess. It was only then that he realised something and became overly excited. It was a few days later when he burst into the backdoor and sent me a big smile. "What is it?" I asked him.

"You wanted money, didn't you?" I became excited too. He must have got the money for the library entry.

"Well, I found a job for you at the Scarlett household."

"Where?"

"One of the richest families in the town. They need someone with the power to use healing magic and I said you're the perfect one for the job."

"How did you tell them?"

"One of their employees came to the restaurant to ask if I knew someone? Isn't this great? Soon, we can get the money you need," he jumped excitedly.

"Your job starts tomorrow. Sleep well Zariam, you'll definitely need it!"

A job? I have to work? My parents said work was for later, much later. Why must I work now? I trusted Mr.Fisher and his judgement. If he gave me this job, it must mean it is suited for me or he would never have mentioned me.