Mark of the Fool
Chapter 564: Chasing the Traveller's Lantern

It was nearly summer when Alex finally caught the Traveller’s power.

For weeks, he had been chasing it, closing the distance with every long night spent on the bakery's roof. Every bit of time and effort he’d devoted to chasing it meant it was easier to track, and no matter how long it took to catch it, it would be worth it.

Her power kept growing in him; if it had been like wavering candlelight before, it was like kindling flame now, giving life to a bonfire. And as the power grew and he kept chasing it, it came nearer to his grasp.

At times, Alex felt like he was trying to seize a single grain of sand, and even using all the precision and dexterity he could manage, grasping a grain of sand would never be easy.

But as the power grew, it also couldn’t slip away as easily.

So, on one warm Generasi night, he caught it, not knowing what he’d done at first. He was so shocked, he nearly let it go, but through will, desperation, reflex, or all three, he clenched down, gripping the power, not letting it get away. His heart was pounding like a drum; but he had it, he finally had it. “By the Traveller,” he laughed, the energy flaring at the sound of her name. “It’s beautiful.”

And it truly was.

For the first time, Alex could examine the power passed onto him by Hannah Kim, the woman who had travelled worlds and saved untold lives. And he found it beautiful.

It was warm and inviting. If mana was similar to electricity, then this was a warm fire that filled the cold spaces between planes and worlds. It felt wondrous.

“I don’t think it’s divinity,” he murmured, glancing at his left shoulder. “The Mark’s not giving me any trouble…but I wonder if this is how priests and miracle workers feel when their deities pass divine power through their soul.”

Waves of warmth spread through his body, filling him with a tingling, yet comforting feeling.

Near him, emotions of comfort and curiosity rose from the aeld staff, likely feeling the wondrous power coursing through his soul. He smiled and reached for it, conjuring a pair of Wizard’s Hands.

The spells flew to a waiting notebook, flipping open before him.

It was time for some notes.

Alex began dictating, and his pen began note taking:

Time, roughly three hours before sunrise.

Have grasped the Traveller’s power. The following is an observation of it.

Traveller’s power seems to be pure magic: not mana, or divinity, but another form of supernatural force. That’s not surprising to me: there’s lots of magic out there in the world.

The power doesn’t seem to function like mana at all: there’s no pool, pathways or fuel. As far as I can tell, it is essentially a static energy that just..

He paused, unsure how to finish the sentence.

It just works, is the closest I can tell.

When I use a summoning or teleportation spell, I can feel the power reach out across distance. The power could work almost like a rope? Could maybe reach across distance and pull things.

“Ugh, you’re just guessing now,” Alex muttered, holding onto the power. “The only way to understand more about how it works is to actually try using it.”

Concentrating, he focused on a point in space across from him on the roof.

Having no solid idea of what to do, he first imagined himself teleporting across the roof. Nothing happened. Then he imagined himself disappearing and then reappearing in a space that was closer.

Again, nothing.

He thought of simply reaching out with the power: each time it had helped him with a summoning or teleportation spell before, he’d felt it reach out across the planes.

Slowly, he tried moulding the power into the shape of an arm, reaching across the roof.

Something changed.

He could feel the energy swirling, changing shape and flaring…

Only to flicker and die.

“No, dammit!” he cursed as it slipped away.

He tried to grasp it again, but—no matter what he did—he couldn’t get it back.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “Well, at least reaching out with it did something. I’ll try that again next time.”

He was ready to start again, when the sound of a key unlocking the front door caught his attention.

Troy must be there.

Which meant the line-up would be gathering soon.

Alex hoped his new hires would arrive before then.

One of the most hilarious things about Govert Beerensteyn’s attempt at sabotage was how it had the complete opposite result to what the man had wanted. Instead of destroying Alex’s chances at success and spreading poisonous news about the Roth Family Bakery to the public, he'd managed to draw attention to it in a host of positive ways that no marketing campaign Alex came up with ever could have. The man was an accidental marketing genius…but for his enemy.

Every single day, the bakery would open to long lines of customers. In about ten minutes, the dining area would be full, and the line would keep forming outside the door. Within a week, Alex had had to hire more staff, and thankfully, Troy had a few suggestions to fill the positions.

“I know some of my former coworkers—Beerensteyn Sr.’s old staff—had to find other work in the city,” he’d said one morning. “I also know some of them aren’t too happy with their current jobs. Just say the word, boss, and I’ll get you more help than you know what to do with.”

And that was how many of the bakery’s former staff—from its golden age—came to work there again. They were a good-natured lot, with a work ethic and talent for baking much like Troy’s; it hadn’t taken Alex long to get them trained in making his new recipes, and the Roth Family Bakery’s way of doing things.

They weren’t hired a minute too soon, either; with such a big demand, had it not been for them, Alex’s time would have mostly been spent running the front counter instead of going to class, or working on the Traveller’s power.

Sure, paying salaries increased his overhead, but with more customers, he was also making more gold. It more than balanced out.

They were selling out daily, well before closing, even with increasing the amount of food they made. Meals made with the expertise of him and his bakers—especially since he could perfect every recipe with the Mark of the Fool—gave the bakery an edge even the finest bakeries in the district didn’t have.

The profits were piling up.

And there was even more coin flowing Alex’s way.

Thundar, Claygon, and Theresa now had a rhythm when it came to harvesting dungeon cores: once every couple of weeks they would disappear into Thameland, then reappear with a new batch of dungeon core substance for his golem crafting operation with Toraka.

Shale definitely wasn’t complaining either: the first golem she’d sold went in a bidding war between a powerful Sultan, a high priestess, and an archwizard from Generasi’s countryside. The sultan won by a landslide, generating a massive amount of coin for his and Shale’s ‘little’ operation.

To make things even better, the ‘losers’ of that auction had gotten into another bidding war for the next golem, with the archwizard beating out the high priestess. That was enough to convince Shale that she’d set the initial prices for the constructs far too low, so the high priestess had then paid a fine premium for the third golem that Toraka and Alex finished.

The extra profits coming to Alex had been more than enough to let him start fulfilling his promise to Lucia. Using his laboratory in the basement of the bakery, Alex got to work, designing, crafting and engineering economical stone golems for the former sky gondolier’s shipping company.

By stripping out a few ‘luxuries’, he had the process refined down to an art, crafting seven foot stone golems with the strength of twenty strong men who never tired, and had better agility than any regular labourer.

They still cost some pretty coin, but the look on Lucia’s face when he introduced her to the newest members of her workforce had been more than worth it. In return, it was on her first caravel that the dungeon core-forged iron golem travelled to its buyer across the sea.

The influx of coin from that venture was enough to let Lucia look into purchasing another ship. Each of his business ventures was growing at a healthy rate, and—as the coin piled up—Alex wondered if he’d be looking for a second building soon.

“One Roth Family Bakery is fantastic,” he said to himself, looking over the city in satisfaction. “Two would be even better. But ten, better still.”

He paused, then burst out laughing. If anyone had been watching from a nearby window, they would have thought he’d gone mad.

But, despite risking his reputation, he couldn’t stop laughing.

A little over two years ago, he’d come to Generasi with his family, his hopes, dreams, and the inheritance that summed up his parents’ entire financial life. He had hoped to buy a home for himself, Theresa, Selina and Brutus.

Instead, he’d learned—to his shock and disappointment—that the entire earthly sum of his parents’ wealth was hardly enough to pay for their room and board at the school for the four years of his education. But now, here he was, honestly wondering how much of the city he could buy before he either revealed that he was the Fool to the world, or someone else revealed it for him.

And, to make things even better, he wasn’t the only one getting rich.

Isolde and Khalik were—as always—stupidly wealthy, but Theresa and Thundar had relatively little coin to their names. Now, every time they returned with a harvested dungeon core, Alex would make it rain gold on their heads.

…once, quite literally, until they’d angrily made him stop.

Spreading the wealth that time had involved a surprise—a bucket of gold— and several Wizard’s Hands. Unfortunately, gold was heavy, and tended to leave welts when it was tossed and gathered speed.

Since then, he’d stuck to making it figuratively rain gold on his lover and his friend. Each time they brought a dungeon core home, he’d hand them a chest filled with five thousand gold a piece.

To him, ten thousand gold wasn’t too much, considering the risks they were taking, and the profits from each iron golem sold, but even then, Theresa had tried to give it back, saying it was too much.

“Listen,” he’d said. “You guys are risking life and limb to help us get rich. You deserve every last coin and more.”

“But Alex…” Theresa had stared down at the heavy chest in her hands. “What am I supposed to do with all this?”

Alex shrugged. “Buy some nice armour. Maybe something else that you’ve been wanting, or how about all the blades you want? Your own house? Go nuts.”

“Look, don’t try and talk him into giving us less, Theresa,” Thundar had said quickly. “The first thing I’m going to do is take as much of this as I can and double it in the Games.” He’d winked at them.

Theresa had just sighed and taken the coin to the bank, since Alex had insisted she get herself a bank account.

Within a couple of days, he’d noticed Brutus wearing three very nice enchanted collars, each capable of projecting a greater force armour effect around his body.

Mama was going to take care of her pup.

Alex paused, glancing at his blood magic textbooks sitting in a pile nearby as Brutus came to mind. There was something he was working on for Theresa…an ultimate present, one he’d mentioned some time ago.

He was getting closer to making it work, and—

‘Father.’ Claygon’s voice came through their link.

“Yes?” Alex cried in surprise. “Where are you buddy?”

‘I…am…in town…I was out walking…I am only three streets away. Could you…come here…?’

Alex grabbed his staff. Claygon’s tone sounded serious.

‘What’s wrong?’ Alex thought.

‘It is…Khalik…He is with Thundar…and he looks very…upset. He wishes to speak to you right away.’

“I’m on my way,” Alex said.