Knowledge is Power

Violet did not expect anyone so early, yet the knock on the door announced a visitor at first daylight. The pastel-haired woman blinked sleepily and noticed that Zach did not stir in the bed beside her own. As much as wanted to sleep in during the Winter when the sun did not rise early like it did in Summer, as the owner of the house, Violet was obligated to answer the door. Groaning, Violet rolled out of bed and pulled on a hoodie to keep warm and a pair of fuzzy slippers before prying open the entrance of her home.

She did not recognize the trio of men standing on her front porch bundled in heavy layers to protect themselves against the cold. The one nearest the door grinned in greeting. "Good morning, miss!" the stout man exclaimed. He deposited a small card into Violet's hand. "We are with the Gem Coast Agricultural Society, here to do an inspection on the cabins built with the funds from the local Pelican Town branch."

The young woman instantly assumed they were some sort of scammers. "Isn't Winter the worst time to check on this sort of thing?" Violet asked, suspicious despite the official appearance of the business card. "If you want to see what my farm produces, come back any other season."

The tallest in the group cleared his throat. "I told you," Violet heard him mutter under his breath to the third colleague. Violet frowned as her doubts on the men's motives deepened. Bruno, who had not stirred until he heard the sounds of voices at the door, nudged at the farmer's thigh, trying to push past her to inspect the visitors. The woman held the canine back between her body and the door, but his snout was clearly visible to the strange men.

One visibly flinched upon noticing that Violet had such a large dog. "Oh, he's a rather large fellow, isn't he?" The bearded man's resolve dissipated as Bruno sniffed at him curiously and pulled back his lips to bare his sharp teeth.

"Look, miss," the third man intervened. "To be frank, we are here because we received an anonymous tip that the cabins built were sitting unused as a means of receiving an unwarranted tax break, rather than for their intended use of housing farmhands to increase the crop output of local farms."

Several ideas flashed through Violet's mind at once, although none of them were particularly helpful. "Who would -?"

Zach suddenly materialized in the doorway beside her and addressed the agricultural society trio. "Ah, gentleman!" her brother always had a knack for sweet talking authority figures, and for once Violet was grateful. "As I'm sure you can tell from the cabin chimneys, they are indeed occupied by farmhands."

The stout mustached man, who gave off the impression that he was the highest ranking among the trio, turned to watch the smoke from the guest house hearths rising above the trees. "Hmph!" he said, twisting the ends of his facial hair. "And what about that one?" The gentleman pointed toward the one in the southeastern corner of the farm.

"That one is brand new, finished just last night by the local carpenter," Zach replied smoothly. "You can't expect someone to move in the instant the house is finished, can you?"

"How can we be so sure?" the dark-haired man voiced in rebuttal. "For all we know, it's been sitting there empty all season!"

Violet, finally getting a word in, pointed behind them. "Here's Robin now," the farmer stated smugly, waving to the redhead as she came into view. The carpenter hollered to the group and waved a hand to acknowledge them. "She's going to upgrade my coop today. I'm sure Robin will have records of when each of these cabins were built."

As it turned out, Robin did keep thorough documentation, though none of it was on her person. The ginger offered to take the gentlemen on a hike up the mountain to view the records she kept on her mountainside home. Violet could tell that none of the visitors liked the idea of taking a hike this early on a cold Winter's day if they could help it.

While a good portion of the farm had not been cleared, it was obvious to those present that this was a legitimate operation. But, just to be sure, Violet quickly knocked on the doors of her tenants' cabins and had Penny and Shane wave to the auditors to prove that the homes were indeed occupied. They had no right to go snooping around on her property, as far as Violet was concerned, and surely the trio of trespassers would get the message quickly enough that whoever provided this "anonymous tip" was wasting everyone's time.

But, out of duty, the men asked to see the inside of the coop and heard Shane talk about the hens that they were satisfied Fairy Rose Farm was using their funds for legitimate business expenses. When Shane was asked about his care of the fowl in the coop on the southwestern corner of the property, he went full-in on the malicious compliance and lectured on the ideal types of feed for each season, the quality of the straw used in the hens' bedding, the best methods to collect the eggs without disrupting a sleeping chicken, and so on.

It was clear these men were not interested in chickens, so she had to question why they were chosen for this job. Still, Violet experienced the pleasures of schadenfreude when she saw the men's eyes begin to glaze over as they looked to each other desperately for a way out of this carefully crafted circle of bureaucratic hell.

Luckily, after Shane's meandering lecture, they did not bother to query Penny. Violet worried that if it was revealed that she was the local schoolteacher and not here to help out on the farm, the auditors may have better cause to believe the information they received. But by the time Shane gave them an out, the trio were more than happy to make their escape. "We see you have quite the promising start for your first year here, miss…"

After all this fuss they had not bothered to learn her name. Oh, well. Violet did not care what these middle-aged men thought of her. So long as they left her alone after this.

Once the auditors were well on their way off the farm, Violet turned to her brother. "Who do you think would have tried to set me up?" she contemplated. "You don't think Lewis was mad about you blackmailing him into upgrading the farmhouse, do you?"

Zach cackled to himself. "I'm afraid that little 'tip' was from me." Violet's jaw dropped in disbelief and her brother went on to explain. "I was feeling petty when you decided to change the location of my guest house, so I may have sent a letter of complaint."

"You are such a jerk!" Violet shouted, swinging her hand to smack his upper arm. Zach dodged and flashed a smug smirk in his sister's direction.

"Oh, come off it, Vi. As long as you used the guest cabins like you planned, there was nothing to worry about." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Besides, even if Lewis did submit a tip, too, it looks as if he skipped town after making his deal with Joja Corp. The old guy is long gone."

Penny, who had kept to herself during the inspection, was shocked by the news. "Lewis left Pelican Town?"

Shane nodded gravely, finally joining the conversation as well. "Yeah, Zach and I went over to the Mayoral Mansion to interview Lewis about the Community Center case and found the place completely empty. His clothes and suitcase were gone, too." The Mayor grit his teeth, "If that doesn't scream 'I'm guilty,' I don't know what does."

Zach seemed far more optimistic than the locals, however. "No worries, I have full confidence that I can wrap up this whole debacle without it going to trial."

"H-How can you be so sure?" Penny inquired curiously.

The lawyer tipped his head toward Shane. "Because the real Mayor had the official title that was locked in the safe for several decades," the blond man explained. "The one Lewis and Joja signed was a fake that the old man made based on memory - which, let me tell you, was terrible. Joja was so eager to get their hands on it, they probably assumed the sloppy title work was due to the town being in the middle of nowhere." Zach shrugged. "Apparently they were more concerned with the language on the paperwork on their end, so while we won't be able to call them out on the lack of legality of their deal with Lewis, the town still rightfully owns the land."

"So at worst they get a slap on the wrist?" Violet interjected despondently. While it was not the answer for which she hoped, the point was that the Community Center was safe from Joja Corp.'s clutches. The farmer was not sure what she would have done if the Junimo's home had been destroyed.

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that since someone was injured." Violet noticed that Zach was courteous enough not to mention Kyle's name. "But that about sums it up. Joja will probably pay a fine, however a big business like that can afford to take a few risks if it means they might get another warehouse for dirt cheap."

"So long as Joja Corp. doesn't get their claws any deeper into our town." Shane expressed his desire to settle in order to kick the corporation's ambitions back to square one. "While I'd pay good money to see Morris squirm a bit, corporate demoting him because of an epic failure to seal the deal on a major land purchase properly works just fine in my book."

Violet smiled at the image of her old boss falling so hard from corporate's good graces. "Well, once I get all these improvements finished on the farm for next year, I think I'll be able to provide enough crops to feed all of Pelican Town, at least."

Penny looked pleasantly surprised. "Oh, that would be nice, so long as Pierre doesn't mark up the produce too much. That's why mom shops at Joja Mart."

The shorter woman growled. "Yeah, he ordered a bunch of high-quality produce from me last season and then tried to sell them at the General Store for ten times the price. Pierre is one strike away from me opening my own farmer's market."

Shane chuckled. "Can you imagine how quickly you would put him out of business?"

Violet huffed, "It's tempting, but I don't want Abigail and Caroline to go down with him," she admitted. "And either way, I told him he has one more chance. Hopefully he isn't stupid enough to pull anymore stunts like that."

"I wonder if Pierre is in some kind of financial trouble." Penny speculated out loud. "That would explain the desperation. I know…" the brunette hesitated, embarrassed by the truth. "I'm no stranger to being on a tight budget."

Shane went silent for a moment as the conversation went on for a few minutes with silly hypotheses that the General Store was just a front for some other comically nefarious business. Finally, the Mayor excused himself. "I've got to go check something out…" he announced cryptically.

Abigail sat in the center of the magic circle Rasmodius had drawn for her. The chalk outline was supposed to help the new magic-user focus her energy to cast a spell, yet so far all it had done was make her skin itch and her father always complained whenever she moved to alleviate the irritation.

"Why does this even matter?" the amethyst-haired woman complained. "I already summoned a ghost in a séance, doesn't that prove I can cast a spell?"

This was news to Rasmodius. "Truly?" Abigail was not sure if she was more insulted by his blatant surprise or his condescending tone.

Flopping onto her back to lay on the floor, Abigail recalled the events of Spirit's Eve and how she and her friends were able to summon the ghost of a child named Amelia who knew George and Evelyn Mullner. "She mentioned a plague and all the children turning into birds…"

Rasmodius nodded solemnly. "Yes, there was such a terrible tragedy several decades ago," the wizard acknowledged. "My ex-wife and I sent our eldest daughter away to train with a colleague," the man elaborated. "But we had many enemies back then, and a rival coven cast a curse upon the Valley."

Abigail sat up abruptly, her brows furrowed. "Then how come I never heard of this from any of the old folks? A curse is kind of a big deal!"

The magician's lips twitched as he spoke. "There was an unfortunate accident. My ex-wife turned all the affected children into birds as a temporary measure, in hopes that it would negate the effects of the curse." Rasmodius shook his head, "It failed and the disease spread to the rest of the population in town through the infected animals, causing a great loss of life throughout the village."

"So the 'bird flu' that I've heard about from the '60s actually started out as a curse on the magic-users in town?"

Again, Rasmodius bobbed his head in confirmation. "Unfortunately, Amelia caught the illness when she returned home. We tried to send messages to let her know not to return, but the child was stubborn. My wife and I separated shortly after that. It was too much to bear for the both of us, I think."

Abigail bit her lip as she contemplated the new information. Although her new father was not great when it came to parenting skills, she was surprised to learn she was not the first of his children. This also meant that the magician was much older than she originally thought. "Amelia mentioned 'our mom,' as if we were siblings. That doesn't make any sense…"

The bearded man grunted. "Her sudden passing must have caused a great deal of grief and confusion for young Amelia," Rasmodius reasoned, stroking his facial hair. "It is possible that she mistook you for someone else."

"You've never tried to contact her yourself?" Abigail inquired curiously. It was strange how emotionally detached the sorcerer was from the horrific events of his own past. "To help her move on?"

Rasmodius shook his head. "It is inadvisable to contact loved ones who have passed," the cloak-clad man explained. "It is best to leave the dead to their own affairs unless they make contact on the physical plane without a summoning ritual. Only then are circumstances dire enough to intervene in their journey to the other side."

"Neither she nor her siblings have attempted to reach us beyond the veil of the physical plane," he continued, "Though even if they had troubles crossing over, my ex-wife's mother is also laid to rest here in town. It is possible she assisted them in some manner on their journey."

"So Amelia's grandmother is buried in the local cemetery, too?" the woman responded eagerly. Before Rasmodius even answered, Abigail knew in her gut to which grave she was always inexplicably drawn.

"Yes, 'Mona.' I visit the site to tend to the weeds and make sure the stone is still legible on occasion."

Abigail was getting answers she never believed she would find, but the conversation led to so many more questions, the amethyst-haired woman was unsure of where to start. "Why aren't the children buried in the local cemetery?" Abigail probed.

Rasmodius appeared unnerved by the inquiry. "We had to cremate the bodies of the infected," he answered honestly. "We used them to fertilize a tree as a memorial."

Abigail was not given the opportunity to ask anything else, since Rasmodius ended the conversation and redirected his daughter's focus back to her studies. Instead of concentrating on her channels of magical energy, however, Abigail considered what else had been kept from her regarding her magical lineage due to her mother's secrets. If the new witch had grown up knowing her biological father, would she have been a powerful witch by now? And what other things could she learn about her history?

Maybe Rasmodius knew something about the tapestry Violet found in the attic of the farmhouse. Abigail knew her father may not be the best teacher, but perhaps she could get enough useful information from him. The man loved to hear himself talk, after all.

Vincent pouted, turning his body away from his brother to keep the giant egg out of Sam's reach. "No! I don't want to give it back, it's mine!" the little boy cried. "Violet gave it to me."

Sam grimaced apologetically. "I know, Vince, but Violet texted to let me know that Robin should finish installing the incubator in the coop tomorrow," the man explained. "Don't you think it would be easier to let the dragon have somewhere nice and warm to hatch?" The blond was still unsure what would come out of the egg, however he chose to humor Vincent and his fantasy of owning his very own dragon.

The boy in the striped shirt let out a sigh too heavy for his small body. "I guess…" Vincent answered reluctantly. "But only if Violet lets us visit my baby dragon every day!" That condition was to be expected, and Sam did not think that Violet would deny his kid brother such a simple request.

Sam ruffled Vincent's hair. "Sure thing, kid. C'mon, we need to get going or I'll be late for hanging with my friends at the saloon tonight."

Vincent fell into step beside his older brother as they left the house. The boy did his best to keep the egg wrapped snugly in a scarf he borrowed from their mother. "Am I still not allowed to talk to mom about dad?"

The blond man placed a hand on his sibling's shoulder. "Just for now, Vince. I promise we can play catch like we used to with dad for as long as you want tomorrow."

"Can we play with snowballs?!" Vincent exclaimed, hopping slightly so that the snow crunched beneath his feet.

Sam beamed mischievously. "Only if you're willing to risk taking on Pelican Town's top snowball fighter." He exaggerated flexing his biceps to tease Vincent, who giggled at the show.

"I'm going to be the best, just you wait, Sam!" the strawberry blond child announced, puffing out his chest slightly. "I'll show dad how much I've grown when he gets back!"

Their father had left for the war years ago, and Sam realized that he had been away for more than half of Vincent's life now. Would Kent even recognize his sons when he returned from the war? Assuming that he was still alive.

Sam chose to mask the pain of his worries and smile for his sibling instead. "He's going to be blown away by how awesome you are, Vince. I'm sure of it."

The brothers reached the farmhouse in good time and without waiting for someone to answer the door, Vincent turned the knob and entered the dwelling. "Dude, you've got to wait for someone to let you in!" Sam protested, but the child was already out of arm's reach.

Sam did not expect to see Sebastian in Violet's living room, and from their body language it was clear he and Vincent had interrupted something. The two blushed and Sam averted his gaze and instinctually covered Vincent's eyes as both adults adjusted their clothing.

"H-hey, you two!" the farmer greeted the pair as she tried to casually slide out from under her boyfriend. Sam could see the marks on her neck forming already. The blond was grateful Vincent did not see or they would likely have to relive the whole zombie conspiracy panic again. Violet flashed a friendly grin toward Sam's little brother. "What brings you all the way out here to the farm?"

"We decided to take you up on the offer to put the mystery egg in your fancy new incubator," Sam told his friends. Vincent squirmed away from his older sibling and gently placed the enormous egg on the couch beside the couple.

"It's going to hatch a dragon!" the boy declared proudly. "But I can't keep it warm like its mom, so we need to use the in-cue-bate-er," Vincent whined pitifully, struggling with the new word. The kid was quickly distracted from his disappointment by the potential for a magical, fire-breathing reptile as a pet, however, and changed his tune to a more optimistic one. "I promise to visit every day and take care of it when it hatches!"

"Of course, Vincent," Violet replied, trying her best to keep a straight face. Sam could tell that she was still flustered that they had barged into her house, and who could blame her? It was Friday night and Sebastian must have just got back in town from ZuZu City. They had a lot of catching up to do, being separated all week. How the hell could those two even stand it? Sam already had trouble adjusting to the fact that Abigail had magic practice with the wizard a few times a week now.

With that personal reflection, Sam realized the best apology to his friends would be to duck out of here as soon as possible. "I'm going to take Vince back home," he informed the couple as he backed toward the door slowly, a firm grasp on Vincent's shoulder to keep the boy from darting off again. "I'll see you at The Stardrop." He winked teasingly at Sebastian and Violet, "Unless you two are getting busy later."

Sebastian, determined to not let Sam get the better of them, cleared his throat. "We'll be there, we just might be slow getting there." Sam was tempted to joke about the couple's pace, but withheld the comment with Vincent present.

The dark-haired man quickly recovered enough to throw in some smack talk. "Either way, you're going to lose tonight!"

The spiky-haired blond hooted as he herded his little brother out of his friend's house. "Not if Abi has anything to say about it!"

If it were not for the Doctor's insufferable scruples, Eshra Talla may have given into the idea that the mortal was a spy for another divine being. However the syren did not detect any magic when the man laid his head on her lap, so the notion that the bleeding-heart Catfish was only able to see through her disguise because a fraction of her power had somehow transferred to him was proven false.

So what now? Never before had the demi-goddess found a being so infuriatingly transparent, yet impossible to read. Normally, Talla could discern a mortal's motives for trying to establish rapport with her, either business-related or romantic intentions. While as a trader the former was necessary, the latter was something she would not humor. No mortal was worth her affections.

When she paused to consider their relationship, Talla knew that she had approached the Doctor first, so if he had acquired a sponsor who requested services as a spy, that was truthfully less likely, although not impossible. Her companion was an employee in many senses, so Talla could acknowledge that perhaps the Doctor simply respected her as a partner in business. Never before had that led to mortals catching glimpses of her true form.

All the evidence suggested that the Catfish was not a spy, but Talla could not shake the irritating fact that something about him alarmed her. She caught him staring at her on multiple occasions, and when she confronted him, Harvey would fumble with clumsy apologies and make excuses such as "zoning out."

It rubbed her scales the wrong way to be watched like prey. Talla was the ultimate predator in the ocean. Whereas here on land, they syren knew that may not necessarily be the case. And who better to know of her vulnerabilities than the physician? If he did not intend to eat her or steal her magical power, surely there was another ulterior motive! Mortal men always had their schemes.

So the demigoddess kept a close eye on her employee, keen to catch Doctor Harvey in the act of espionage. Yet, when he finally approached her later that evening as she made her nightly stroll along the river's edge, his intentions were made clear. Though they were not at all what Talla anticipated.

"I want to free those in the prisoner of war camp after I've treated everyone there," the man stated firmly, his shoulder square and voice unwavering with his usual people-pleasing tone. "I've given it a lot of thought," he elaborated, "and I believe I can still fulfill our agreement and save battle-worn soldiers on both sides every step of the way."

Talla's serrated teeth clacked together as she considered the consequences of his demand. "This may cost you your life, Doctor," the syren warned, focusing intently on his face. She purposefully slipped out of her humanoid disguise as a form of intimidation. Few mortals could stand unnerved before the true face of the demigoddess.

Harvey opened his mouth to speak, and was quickly silenced as the scaly woman disrupted him. "Not to mention, you run the risk of future humanitarian missions like this one being denied," she hissed coldly. "If you save the soldiers of your country, how can you continue to pose as a neutral party?"

"I understand," the mustached mortal reacted solemnly. His hands balled tightly shut at his sides, "But I would never be able to face the villagers again - especially not Jodi and the kids - if I didn't do everything in my power to bring Kent back home to them."

He did not wait for her to refute his request. "If I'm caught, don't worry yourself, Talla," Doctor Harvey asserted. "I'll deny that you had any knowledge and insist that I acted on my own, outside of our contractual relationship." His gaze finally broke away from hers as his eyes fluttered toward the ground. "If we must part ways at that point, I will find my own way back to Ferngill Republic." It was odd to see the man with such a bright flame of determination in his eyes.

"I will not ask anything more than your silence on the matter, in case someone should question you," the Doctor concluded.

Talla sniffed in amusement and averted her eyes toward the gentle current of the river's waters. "You are more foolish than I believed possible," the immortal woman sighed, her teal curls shifting as she shook her head in exasperation. "You truly think you could make it back home with a retinue of wounded soldiers undetected by your country's enemy, without supplies or a guide who knows the land?"

The syren plowed through his vague, ill-fated plans. "And even once you complete the duties outlined in our contract, I am still responsible for your actions while on this country's soil. If you do this, it will reflect poorly on me if you are caught."

The mortal balked at the sensibility of her words and Talla knew she tore an irreparable hole in his net. Pursing her lips, the syren offered her own counterproposition. One that would benefit them both.

"Whether I like it or not, I owe you a debt after our time in Thorn's Desert, Doctor," the merchant reminded her employee. "Should you choose," Talla regarded him with glare as sharp as her teeth, "after you have completed your duties as a traveling physician per our contract, I shall grant you what you desire to repay a portion of that debt."

"You mean…?"

Talla scoffed. "It is hardly a task for a being of my ability," the syren countered dismissively, waving her hand to banish his disbelief. "Though I will not guarantee the lives of the prisoners or the soldiers guarding them," the teal-haired demigoddess proclaimed. "What happens to them will be your burden to bear."

Harvey's eyes widened, much like the catfish he so resembled. "I cannot thank you enough, Talla…"

The syren exhaled sharply through her gills in annoyance. "My actions are already to show an appreciation for what you did," Talla reminded her companion, "there is no need to continue an endless cycle of pointless thanks!"

The sound that reached Talla's ears stopped her in an instant. It was clear, and bright, and reminded her of the first warm currents in the depths of the sea that signaled the turn of seasons. For the first time, Harvey was genuinely entertained by something she said. Not the anxious little expulsions of nervous energy, but a real full-bellied chortle.

"For an immortal, you really don't like to waste time, do you?" he observed. His breath slowly returned to normal, however the hint of a smile remained on his facial features. Talla wished the sound had not gone away so quickly. It reminded her of something that dwelled on the edges of her mind, though she could not recall what.

Despite the lingering, unlabeled feeling of familiarity, the demigoddess was compelled to call out the man's arrogance. "I am surprised humans waste their time on such trivial matters…" Talla growled, irked that he had laughed at her expense. "You have so little of it."

Her comment dampened his mood and Talla was not the least bit sorry for it. The mortal had become rather bold with his word choice in her presence and the syren knew she would have to extinguish such behavior. She stepped forward to continue her stroll, fully expecting the Doctor to stay behind.

To her surprise, the Catfish fell into step to saunter along the river beside her. "I suppose that's why the Gotorons say there are two deaths," Harvey replied after a pensive pause, catching her off-guard. "And that it's only after the second death - when you are forgotten by the living - when you really die." His lips curled up past the edges of his mustache in a slow, gentle motion as he turned his face toward hers. "It's more comforting to think that way, isn't it?"

He took a swig of water and stared up at the slither of night sky high above the water. "The life I live might come and go quickly to someone like you, but maybe I'll exist forever in your memory instead." Talla stood completely still and it felt for a moment that she was back beneath the waters of the ocean, the great pressure of the pitch-black depths immobilizing her. Behind the lenses of his spectacles, Harvey's eyes did not waver when they met with her own. "I would like that."

The syren was left speechless as Harvey returned to camp without her, leaving Talla to speculate why the Catfish's philosophical musings unnerved her so.