Old Hamm, in the end, did not live to see Green marry and father children. He passed away quietly in the early days of spring, when the bitter winds had begun to soften. The day before, after a long day's labor, Hamm and Green had returned from the town with a small barrel of malt ale and several pounds of meat, planning to begin renovations on the hut the next day and finally arrange a marriage for Green.
Tragically, come morning, Hamm would never rouse Green to work again.
Hamm departed with a smile—whether from the pleasures of the previous night's food and drink or from a dream in which all his wishes had been fulfilled, no one could say. Even when Green hired a few villagers to lay Hamm to rest, his face still bore that carefree, enduring grin.
Green also buried Hamm's most cherished pipe alongside him.
Hamm's sudden absence cast a shadow over Green's heart for many days, yet life went on. Green inherited the two modest huts, an old horse, and Hamm's life savings: two gold coins and seventeen silver ones. This modest estate was all Green possessed.
He secretly stashed the spellbook, The Reconstruction of the Hunting Nose and Atlas of Scents, alongside the coins, poring over it nightly whenever the lamp oil allowed—a small window into the enigmatic world of wizards.
Summer gradually arrived.
On an ordinary morning, after completing the usual chores, Green dumped the remnants of the previous night's revelries outside the viscount's city estate, then collected the provisions prepared for the day. Sitting atop the cart, he gazed contentedly at the azure sky, clouds drifting lazily.
Beside him, a nimble country girl named Mary loaded the goods with surprising efficiency, more capable than most boys. She wore a coarse linen apron, her freckled face framed by a mane of golden hair, and her heart raced as she stole glances at the relaxed, handsome Green on the cart. The fragrance he carried—reminiscent of wild Eran grass—entranced her utterly.
Green, however, paid her no heed.
A year ago, Hamm had secretly informed him of Mary's affection, even intending for her to be Green's bride. Yet Green, honest with himself, felt nothing more than a fondness for a neighborly girl. Since Hamm's passing, he had never sought her company beyond these daily encounters while transporting goods.
As the cart slowly filled, Mary, biting her lip, finally spoke.
"Green, this morning a wizard passed through here. He asked for the way to Bisser City. Everyone was astonished—I've never seen a wizard before."
Green, bored until now, pricked up his ears at the word. "A wizard? Are you certain?"
"Of course! Many people saw him." Mary's eyes sparkled at his interest.
Green leaned forward, excitement blazing. "What did he look like?"
Mary recounted eagerly, "He wore a flowing gray robe and a tall hat. His face was obscured, as though veiled in mist. In his hand was a frog with red eyes. He was speaking with Imah at the village edge."
Thanking her, Green was nearly breathless with exhilaration. Since discovering the spellbook six months prior, this was his first real clue of a living wizard.
He dashed toward Imah's home.
Imah, in her early twenties, already had two children. Her husband, a robust and genial hunter named Sogara, greeted Green warmly.
"Ah, Green! Come for the scent, I suppose? Yesterday, we captured some game in the eastern mountains—come, come…"
Imah emerged from the kitchen with her children curiously observing Green.
Half an hour later, Green departed, muttering ecstatically, "Bisser City… I'm really going to Bisser City!"
He spurred the old horse onward, fearful it might collapse, just as Hamm once had.
At the viscount's gates, the haughty old butler, flanked by four towering knights, confronted him.
"You peasants! Your lands belong to the viscount. Obey his taxes or—rebel and face the consequences!" the butler roared.
Every year, farmers clashed here briefly before the knights dispersed them. Green waited, anxious, yet undeterred.
"Lowly scum! Insolent!" the butler bellowed. In moments, the knights had beaten the crowd into retreat.
Green, seething, drove the cart calmly into the estate.
"Stop!" the butler barked, glancing over the goods. "Why so slow? Are you even trying?"
Green's jaw tightened. This man had already pocketed two silver coins this month alone, squeezing profits from labor that only earned four coins a month.
"Master Butler, I arrived earlier, but the villagers blocked my way," Green replied coolly.
The butler exploded like a disturbed hornet's nest, face red, finger jabbing Green's nose. "Insolent peasant! The viscount raises you for nothing! Fine! Don't bother coming tomorrow—get out!"
He stormed inside, ordering the knights to break Green's legs if he dared return. Green, livid, silently vowed retribution.
Suddenly inspired, he parked the cart beneath a nearby tree and ran into the town's blacksmith shop.
"Hey, Sixth!" Green called to an apprentice.
Back when he begged in Bisser with eight others, he had been number eight. Fate had scattered them: he with Hamm, Sixth with this forge, Second to the countryside, the rest vanished.
"Eighth!" the apprentice, now muscular and bearded, exclaimed, clapping Green on the shoulder. The coarse, heat-hardened hands pained Green.
"Sixth, I need to ask—has a wizard really come to the city?"
The apprentice's expression darkened. "How did you know? Yes, a wizard arrived to test for magical aptitude—but the fee is one gold coin."
He leaned toward the old blacksmith behind him. "He brought his son, Ay, but the test found no aptitude. Now he begrudges the gold spent."
Green's heart leapt. "Where is the wizard?"
Sixth's eyes widened. "You don't mean to go? One gold is no small sum—we can't squander it."
Green hesitated. Losing a coin was significant, yet losing this opportunity might mean never seeing a wizard again.
He nodded resolutely.
Sixth, stunned, relented. "He's at the Lord Mayor's estate. His precious daughter has magical aptitude—the only one in Bisser."
"Thanks, Sixth!" Green exclaimed, ecstasy eclipsing the butler's earlier wrath. His mind raced only with thoughts of wizards.
He dashed to the huts, retrieved a chest of silver and copper coins, and declared fiercely:
"I will become a wizard! I must!"
Counting one hundred silver coins, he grabbed the spellbook, hid the chest, and sprinted once more toward Bisser City.
With summer's long days, darkness would not hinder him. The Lord Mayor, Bisser's highest-ranking noble and sole marquis of the region, wielded absolute authority—even the viscount answered to him.
Glancing at the estate, Green noticed an unusual bustle. Merchants and nobles moved about, often accompanied by disappointed heirs. He knew the wizard awaited within and pushed forward.
"Stop! One gold coin to enter!" a boy shouted, similar in age to Green.
Grimacing, Green handed over a small pouch of coins. The boy tossed it carelessly into a chest without counting, arrogance plain in his stance.
Green, taken aback, recognized him as merely a farmer's son, lucky beyond reason. Scowling, he pressed on, slipping past the crowd into the Lord Mayor's estate.