WebNovels

Chapter 64 - Arrival and the Billboard

The dirt road curved through dry fields before finally opening up to a view of the town or at least, its two distinct towers , visible from a distance.

"We are here!" Father said, relieved, wanting to reach our destination as quickly as possible and get this over with.

"Wow, Father, what are those two tall buildings?" Astraya replied.

Father enlightened us. "Oh, those? Those are tower bells. Usually, one is for timekeeping, the other for emergency, though it depends on how the town decides to operate."

As the wagon closed the distance between us and the town, our eyes landed on a cracked, big, wooden, rectangle-shaped sign:

WELCOME TO BLACKROOT TOWN

The sign proclaiming WELCOME TO BLACKROOT TOWN was freshly painted, the words stark and very visible a clear sign that it was regularly cared for, despite the harsh dust and sunlight.

The winding path, no more than a simple wagon track, finally led us to what appeared to be the border. It wasn't the imposing fortress I'd imagined, but a modest, almost charming, yet serious checkpoint.

Nestled between two trees with clawing, leafy branches stood a small, hexagonal wooden guardhouse. Its walls were painted a startling pale cream or white, with tall, arched windows that gave it a dollhouse-like appearance. The roof was a gently sloping, octagonal cap covered in dark, neat shingles.

In front of the guardhouse, a pair of thick, simple wooden barrier arms formed the blockage. This post was manned by a thin man in weathered green and white attire. He was clearly an officer, sporting a visible heart emblem on his chest and an official Manyblood hat that looked too big for his head.

Sighting us as we approached, he stepped out onto the road. Father slowly brought the wagon to a stop right in front of the post officer.

The man looked up, his face half-shadowed beneath the hat, and offered a smile, though it looked like an expression hadn't been used in a while.

"Well now," he said, his voice rough but polite, "visitors. Don't see many these days. Though lately, we've certainly had a lot… Welcome to Blackroot!"

The tension among us was thick. Given the warnings, I constantly scanned the surrounding brush, half-expecting an ambush. Even Astraya, who usually hummed or sang to herself, was completely silent, her eyes darting everywhere.

"Such a lovely place," Father murmured, stepping down from the wagon as courtesy demanded.

"Welcome again, Blackroot is always happy to see visitors," the officer repeated. "So, what brings you to our small town, sir?"

Father explained that he was simply here to visit some people they had planned to meet in the town.

The man then stepped forward, asking Astraya and me to step down, giving us a little wave. We both complied, and I gently guided Morad to the ground as he remained quiet in his fish bowl as planned.

As he investigated the wagon from top to bottom "Looks to be all clean. All that's left is a toll fee."

Father's face went completely blank the moment he heard the word "fee." He began patting his pockets with rapid, suspicious movements.

"Dad, you okay?" I asked, sensing the trouble even before the man had named the price.

"Sir, I hope you're well. It's just one-eighth K," the officer said, correcting himself slightly. "Or, if I'm to be formal, one shard."

Astraya looked at me, her eyes already demanding an explanation.

I sighed. "What, Astraya?

Come on. You really want me to spell it out brother?" she replied with her eyes glued to mine.

"Fine. That's a gold standard system," I replied.

 "Huh"she replied looking even more confused.

 As expected . I explained, "They use the purity of gold as the medium of exchange,sister."

"Oh," she replied, genuinely invested, clearly wanting to learn more about this strange system.

Father just kept laughing nervously. The officer's expression was already hardening, clearly concluding that Father had no money on him. Finally, Father let out a dramatic "Ohhh!" of realization.

"How about I just show you my pocket watch?"

Astraya and I immediately glared at him. Was he serious? Unless that watch was made of solid gold, why would he think that would help?

He then brought out a simple bronze-looking pocket watch which bore a striking emblem: a heart shape on both its front and back.

The officer's demeanor shattered instantly. He snapped to attention and gave Father a rigid salute. "Sir! I didn't know you were a Manomancer!"

The man acted like he was meeting a celebrity. "Wow! A real Manomancer in the flesh! The town's really lucky to have you here everyone should know!"

Father grinned, enjoying the sudden shift in atmosphere. "No, no, this will do more than enough! You should have just shown this, sir! I wouldn't have needed to search your wagon."

"Nah, it's alright," Father replied casually. "Just wanted the kids to experience how things worked."

The officer's grin became genuinely warm. "Sorry about that, kids. Have a nice stay here at Blackroot!" He immediately went to lift the wooden barrier, clearing the path for the wagon.

Astraya, and I all looked at each other, stunned. Wow. Father was genuinely respected for being a Manomancer? That was interesting. Why did they have so much respect for him, just from a pocket watch?

as we entered back on the wagon Beyond the newly raised wooden barrier, just past the checkpoint, stood a piece of utilitarian town furniture perfectly suited to this type of town: the Population Board.

It was crafted from thick, dark, oiled wood, standing on two sturdy legs, looking much like a larger, permanent version of the notice board we'd seen earlier, but dedicated solely to numbers.

 Astraya and I couldn't resist one last glance back at the officer. He stood by the small hexagonal house, giving us a polite, final wave.

But our eyes were immediately drawn to the Population Board standing just beyond the gate. As we wanted to have an idea of how dense the population of this town was if not anything that was important

For a second my eyes saw the board read: Total Residents: 420.

Then, just as the officer lowered his hand from the wave, he walked to the boardand his other hand moved with a subtle, practiced flick. The number tiles spun with a dull, wooden clack-clack-clack.

In the same moment, the total population of Blackroot changed right before our eyes. The new figure settled: 416.

"Astraga, you saw that right?" she whispered, glancing at me.

"Yeah, sure did. Let's just hope it wasn't a count about missing people," I replied, though my voice lacked conviction.

"Yeah, right. Clearly missing people," Father muttered from the driver's seat. "I saw it, too. Let's just get our goal over with and get going back home."

"So, these people where are we supposed to meet them exactly?" Morad asked.

"They will come to us, actually, as they're already in town," Father explained. "We'll just wait for them at the town center."

All Father said was lost on me. My mind was consumed by the mystery of the place. The officer seemed normal enough, so what was it about Blackroot that felt so ominous?

As we finally cleared the main road, the architecture began to shift. We were now surrounded by buildings seemingly built from a patchwork of weathered gray stone and dark, half-timbered sections. The collective structure of the town looked ancient.

We finally reached the Town Square. Dust clung to our boots and wagon wheels. The square wasn't lifeless, merchants still called out prices, and a few children darted between stalls but the laughter felt too real, as if these people were completely unaffected by the horrors rumored outside the gates. Everywhere looked maddeningly normal, though the town itself felt like it was pretending to be alive, the population scarce enough to make the activity feel sparse.

At the center stood a massive wooden billboard, its surface absolutely buried beneath papers. Old sketches, torn edges, and weather-stained inkall missing-person notices. There were so many of them that newer sheets overlapped the old, creating layers of forgotten grief.

An old woman stood there, clutching one particular poster. Her hands trembled as she tried desperately to press it back against the board, even as a younger man beside her firmly pulled it down.

"Please," she begged, her voice raw. "Don't take it down! He's still out there my grandson's still out there!"

The man sighed, exasperated. "Granny, it's been four years. We've got too many gone now. We need space for the new ones."

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