Here's the next chapter! I hope you'll enjoy it.
Djinn - Thanks so much.
Ah yes, I suppose I did. It was such a suprise when Sycamore revealed he had a daughter and it never really got mentioned ever again. I thought Edgar could somewhat relate with his own family and Agatha. I do wonder where his parents are, though. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter. This time is Phong Gi.
Dikratsblim - That's alright. I'm the same with my work at the moment. I'm looking forward to it as well, I haven't heard any news lately about when it will be released. Thanks for reading and I hope you'll like this chapter.
Girl Anime Club -I haven't actually. I really need to get my hands on some of those games...as well as find the time to play them.
Thanks for the reviews :)
Chapter 8: Phong Gi
Sycamore's Quarters, Bostonius
Late on night, when almost everyone was asleep, two figures crept silently through the Bostonius.
They tiptoed down the hallways, slunk by the cabins the others were sleeping in until they finally reached the right door. One of the figures quietly opened the door a little bit and peered inside; their eyes searched the dark room carefully before they spotted Sycamore asleep in his large bed. His glasses were on the bedside table, there was an eyemask over his face, curlers in his hair and a book on his chest which he had been reading before he fell into his slumber. The figure grinned mischievously before turning to his partner.
"Perfect," Edgar whispered, "Are you ready?"
"I'm not so sure about this," Aurora whispered in reply, a small worried frown on her face, "Isn't this a but...mean?"
Edgar patted her shoulder reasuringly, "It's fine. It's only a little prank. People today do this thing all the time."
"They...they do?"
"Absolutely."
"Well...it seems like a strange custom...but as long as it's normal..."
"That's the spirit," Edgar said as he retrived his marker pen from his pocket, "Let's do this. It's going to be hilarious."
Bostonius, Outside The Village Of Phong Gi
The next morning, the Bostonous had landed. It was difficult at first, due to the thick forest and the large colourful foilage, but Raymond had managed to land it on a clear area a mile away from their destination.
The air was thick and humid and the ground was soft a slightly muddy. In the distance, they could see thin mountains rising up as if the earth itself was stabbing the sky. A thick rainforest surounded them with large flowing plants (with some as big as a human), tall palm trees and grassy banks dominating the area. However, it was the mushrooms that were the most interesting thing about this place; there were so many of them. Large ones; small ones; ones that grew on trees or under bushes. They were all unique with their bright, vivid colours and their stange shapes. Edgar did wonder if any of them were poisonous, but that was something he wasn't really eager to find out.
He, Aurora and Emmy were standing outside; ready and waiting to head to the town of Phong Gi where, according to their reasearch, another Azran Egg was hidden. However, to their surprise, one person from their party would not be join them.
"So, the Prof is not coming with us?" Edgar asked as Emmy shook her head.
"He told me that there were some problem back at Gressenheller University that he has to sort out over the phone," Emmy answered as she rubbed the back of her head, "Something about exams or assignments. He wasn't too sure. The recpetion out here is not very good so he's waiting for a call back."
"You would think Dean Delmora could deal with it himself," Edgar commented, "Unless he's busy trying to work out another puzzle his grandaughter has sent him."
"They do keep him busy," Emmy admitted.
"So, if Professor Layton is not coming with us," Aurora said with a small frown, "will it just be us and Professor Sycamore."
"That's correct, Aurora," a new voice said from over at the Bostonius, "Excuse me for being late."
Emmy turned her head to say hello...but ended up gasping in surprise. Edgar bit his lip to stop himself from laughing while Aurora's eyes widened in shock. Professor Sycamore appeared as he usually did in his suit and tie, but it looked somebody had drawn cat whiskers on his face in marker pen. Sycamore did not seem to have acknowledged what was on his face at all as he gave them a pleasant smile in greeting.
"Good morning all. Are we all ready?"
Emmy raised her eyebrows in confusion, "Professor...you've..."
She then glared at Edgar angrily, having alreayd figured out what was happening.
"Edgar," she snarled, making him smile broadly.
However, before she could chew him out over this, Sycamore said something that snapped her out of her fury.
"Oh, I see you have noticed," Sycamore said, much to her and everybody's surpirse, "I thought I would get away with it, but ah well."
"Huh?" Emmy uttered, "So this was...on purpose."
"Of course it was, Miss Altava," Syacmore chuckled, "You didn't think I did it accidentally, did you?" he questioned before he thought, 'I didn't think they would notice that I used curlers in my hair last night. I may be a professor of archaology, but it doesn't mean I can't look presentable. After all, a gentleman has to look his best at all times.'
Emmy stammered slightly, "Well...no...it's...well..."
"I think you look great Prof," Edgar commented with a grin, "You look very sophesticated and presentable. Don't you think, Emmy?"
"Thank you Edgar."
"Well..."
Aurora nodded her head, "I agree. I think it looks good."
"But..." Emmy stuttered before she sighed and gave Sycamore a sheepish smile, "Well, I suppose so. But, I admit, I'm a little surpised Professor."
Syacmore mearly chuckled and began to walk in the direction of the village, "I think you'll find that I am full of suprises, Miss Altava. Now, let's not waste another moment. The village is a bit of trek away."
"Of course, professor," Emmy chirped.
She gave one last sceptical glance at Edgar before she followed him as well into the dense jungle. Ddgar and Aurora waited for a few moments before they began to giggle and laugh to themselves.
"How amusing," Aurora softly said as she held a hand over her mouth, "You were right. This is funny."
"Told you. I wonder how long we can get away with it."
Phong Gi
Phong Gi was, by far, that strangest place Edgar has ever been to. It was located deep in the jungle with very little contact with the outside world. There were no paved roads; the wooden houses were connected by dirt paths that wound its way through the village. The houses themselves were tall and round with dome shaped roofs which made them look like large mushrooms; they were all set on stilts, had thin windows and doors and roped bridges were strung up between them which made it easier to travel from house to house.
There were only a few villagers around which seemed a little strange for a village of this size. The men were making tools for hunting while the women were weaving baskets in their houses. Some children were running and playing together while one woman was tending to a large cauldron at the centre of village square. Other then that, there wasn't anybody else.
Emmy instantly whipped out her camera and began to take photos of the colouful houses and the rustic scenary. She knew she had to take advanatage of their visit so she could add it to her album.
"All these colours! All these wondefuling buildings!" she exclaimed excitedly, "I haven't seen anything like this before."
"Such a remote place," Aurora hummed, "It must be difficult to communicate with the outside world."
"I must confess, I didn't think we would encounter such a vibrant settlement as this," Sycamore observed.
Edgar flinched slightly from the smell. There were so many smelly flowers and spices being used that it was too much to take in.
"Very vibrant," he murmured, "I'm starting to get a headache. Should we start asking interviewing people."
"Indeed we shall," Sycamore said as he spotted a villager walk by, "How about that young man over there. He may help us find the egg before our nostrils seal up in protest."
The man he was reffering to was a short man with slightly tanned skin, round eyes and a large nose who wore a red sheet over his shoulders and plain sandals. His most distingusing feature was his large dome-shaped hair which not only covered his entire head but had an entire brim ten centimeters thick; making it look like he was wearing the head of a large mushroom. Edgar supposed that this was they typical hair style for the people of Phong Gi as ever villager seemed to have some variation of it.
'They really do lean in on the whole mushroom thing in Phong Gi,' he thought before he finally understood, 'Oh, Phong Gi! Like fungi! Ah, that took me way too long to get that.'
Sycamore cleared his throat as he approached the man, hoping to catch his attention. However, the shorter man seemed to be to busy scratching his head and muttering to himself to properly take notice of him.
"...a real brain scratcher? Nah, that's not good enough," the short man grumbled, "Oh, how about I make it look like my hair is eating my hand," he decided as he stuck his hand into his hair, "That should please him, alright?"
"Pardon me," Sycamore said.
The short man turned to him; his hand still in his hair as moved about.
"Excuse me, does this look like my hair is eating my hand?"
"Umm..."
"What you don't get it?" the short man spat in annoyance, "Gah, I don't have time for this, whiskers! I need to get to the festival now!" he yelled angrily as he marched awya from him.
"Whiskers?" Sycamore murmured in confusion, "What a perculiar man?"
"I know," Edgar agreed, "A remote village on an scarcely populated island and he spoke perfect English."
"...Well, yes, that's perculiar as well. But I was more focused on what he was doing."
"Is that a normal way for people to act in this village?" Aurora suggested.
"I don't think that's a normal way for anyone to act," Emmy kindly said.
"How about that woman over there," Edgar suggested, nodding towards the woman standing beside the bubbling cauldron.
She was a short round woman with tanned skin, brown hair small round jovial eyes and a bright smile. She wore a purple floral dress and a simple pair of sandals. Her hair had the distintive mushroom-shape look that the rest of the citizens of Phong Gi had with the rest of her long hair draped down her back and onto her shoulders.
She was still busily tending to the cauldron by the time they made their way over to her. Edgar had no idea what was inside the cauldron; it looked like a bunch of dried leafs, roots and mushrooms all in one strew. The smell of it was so powerful that it almost made his eyes water. The woman added a few more extra mushrooms to the cauldron before she looked up at them. As soon as her eyes set on Sycamore's face, however, she began to laugh hysterically.
"Aha ha ha ha ha! What in heavens! That is so funny!" she chuckled in amusement.
Sycamore's eye twitched. It was clear that he was annoyed by her remarks but was trying his best to remain calm.
'Am I really that funny looking?' he thought to himself before he cleared his throat, "Good morning, madam."
"Hehehe!" the woman laughed before she wiped a tear from her eye, "Oh, how funny. I really got kick out of that," she said, causing Syacamore to grumble, "Anyhow, welcome to our humble home of Phong Gi. I'm Amanita. We don't usually accept outsiders, but I think we can make an exception for you lovely people."
"Thank you Aminita. It's nice to meet you too," Edgar greeted, "My name is Edgar and they are Aurora, Emmy and-"
"Professor Sycamore. Archaeologist," Sycamore stiffly greeted, earning slight chuckle from the woman.
"We've come to look for something," Emmy told her, "You wouldn't have happen to have seen a small egg-shaped stone with engravings on it, have you?"
"Sure, I've seen it," Aminita happily replied, much to their surprise, "Go straight ahead and you'll get to the Grand Stage. It's right there."
"Oh really?" Edgar questioned in surprise, "That was...easy. Thanks so much."
"No problem at all," Aminita giggled, "I'll be looking forward to seeing you all perform."
"Huh? Perform?"
Grand Stage
Using Aminita's directions, the found their way to the other side of the village where a crowd of people had gathered. There had to be just short of a hundred villagers around who were sat on wooden benches around a large square stage. There were only two people on the stage; one of them was the short man who they had encountered a few minutes ago while the other was a short, elderly man with grey hair and an equally grey beard that covered his entire face.
The elderly man was skinny with dark tanned skin and a sharp pointed nose thatbpoked out from out of his beard. He wore a grass skirt around waist and a simole pair of sandals on his bony feet. He reclined on a large thone made of wood and the pelts of several animals; around the backrest was hundreds of bright bird feathers for decoration.
The short man looked to be performing for the elderly man before him. His hand was stuck in his hair, like earlier, and he was running around the stage in pretend panic. Judging by the reaction (or lack of readtion) from the elderly man, the act was not going too well.
"Ah! Chief Morel! Look! My hair is being eaten by my hand! You see! You get it!?"
"No, I don't see," the chief snapped irritably, "What are you getting at, boy?"
The short man stopped and pointed to his hand lodged in his hair, "See? It's like my hand's...being eaten...by my hair."
"I don't see what you're on about and you're starting to get on my nerves!" Chief Morel muttered angrily as he shook his head, "The festival's been going in for days now and all these acts have been going right over my head! Get off the stage! Urh! I can feel my lumbago acting up again!"
The short man turned and slowly dragged himself off the stage in utter defeat. The audience wathced him leave sadly before the murmured to themselves. Edgar, Sycamore, Aurora and Emmy watched on from a distance and thought a out what they just saw,
"Cheerful bloke, isn't he?" Edgar remarked.
Aurora hummed thoughtfully, "How perculiar. Is this some sort of contest?"
"If I had to guess, I'd say they're trying to make the village chief laugh," Emmy said, "Although, all their efforts seem to be in vain."
"But surely this ritual has some bearing in the aura stome, does it not?" Aurora saidnas she pointed towards the chief, "That's why he wears it around his neck."
They looked closely and saw that she was right. Hung around the chief's neck by a string, was the Azran Egg that they have been looking for; not ten meters away from them.
"Wow, that was really easy. Easier than other places," Edgar said, "So, what's the plan? Somebody makes a distraction and I'll snatch it before anybody notices?"
Sycamore gave Edgar a tired look, "Perhaps we shouldn't result to theft right off the bat, Edgar."
Edgar rolled his eyes, "Sure, when I steal from indigenious tribal people it's bad, but when the British Museum does it it's called 'acquiring for the collection'."
"Edgar is right...in a way," Emmy said with a sigh as she watched another villager attempt to make the chief laugh, "The chief doesn't seem like the type of person to let anyone have it."
They watched as Chief Morel shout at another villager perfoming and sent him off the stage. As the villager left the stage Morel leaned back in his throne and cross his arms grumpily. Everybody agreed, at that moment, that simply asking for the Azran Egg won't work.
Edgar hummed and quickly got his notebook out to write in the latest mystery.
New Mystery: The Deadpan Chief - The Village Chief of Phong Gi is the biggest wet blanket I have ever seen. The festivals aims to get him to laugh with the entire village doing their best to amuse him. However, despite all their efforts, he refuses to even crack a smile. It's like doing a stand-up gig in Grimsby...except much less worse.
Edgar put away his notebook and placed his hands on his waist, "Well, looks like there's no way of getting out of this," he said, "If we're going to get that Azran Egg, then we're going to make that chief laugh."
"Make him laugh?" Emmy questioned sceptically, "That's not going to be easy. The whole festival has been going on for weeks and nobody has made him laugh. It's like doing a stand-up gig in Dudley."
"Funny. I was thinking the same thing, but I said Grimsby instead."
"Grimsby works as well."
"I believe you are onto something, Edgar," Sycmore hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps, he'll be more inclined to listen to us if we can amuse him. Would anybody like to volunteer?"
Aurora raised her hand, "Perhaps we can draw cat w-"
Edgar gently grabbed her hand and put it down, "Why don't we all come up with our own jokes and then tell them to the chief," he suggested, intentionally interupting Aurora, "We'll have a better chance at succeeding then."
"Alright then," Emmy chirped enthusiastically, "I'll go first!"
Emmy stood centre stage and bowed respectfully towards Chief Morel. The chief raised a single bushy eyebrow at her.
"Who is this?" he asked in annoyance.
"Emmy Altava, Chief Morel," she greeted cheerfully, "My conpanions and I have travelled all the way to your lovely village just for this festival."
"Is that a fact?"
"Indeed, Chief," she said.
She cleared her throat and showed off the palm of her hand to him. On her hand, crudely drawn on by a pencil and pen, was a drawing of a bee on a single flower.
"Bee-hold!" she announced.
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...
...
"Behold, what?" Chief Morel grumbled, causing her to flinch, "I don't get it?"
"Ahem, it's a...drawing of a bee and I'm...holding it," she explained sheepishly, "Therefore...bee-hold."
"Boo! Get off the stage!"
"Shut it, Edgar!"
Next up was Edgar. He cleared his throat and bowed towards the village chief, "Good day, Chief. Nice to meet you. How you doing? Anyway, if you don't mind, I've got a joke that'll knock the hair off your head," he said with a grin, "One night there was a man in the pub who was so drunk that he..."
He trailed off slightly as glanced over towards the crowd. Amongst the villagers, there were children as young as five or six sitting on the benches and listening in as well. Edgar gulped slightly when he saw them.
"...oh, didn't know there were children here..."
"Is that a problem?" Chief Morel grumbled.
"No, no...it's just...well, maybe I should tell a more...age appropriate joke...yeah," he said, clearing his throat again, "Okay, so there's a Frenchman and a policeman in a..." he trailed off again as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "...nope, that's also a rude one...okay, there once was a hedgehog that couldn't be...nope, also inappropriate. Can't tell that one...or that one...or that one...maybe that one if I change...no that'll be even ruder..."
From the audience, Emmy and Sycamore sweatdropped as they watched Edgar try to think of a joke to tell.
'He only knows the rude ones,' they both thought in despair.
"Aha!" Edgar suddenly cried, "I've got one! Finally! Ahem. There once was a mother potato who had three potato daughters..."
"Good start," Emmy commented as Auroa tilted her head in intrigue.
"...one day, the mother potato turned to her daughters and said 'You are old enough. Go out into the world, young ones, and find a husband. Once you've been married, come back to me and tell me who is your beloved husband'. And so the potatoes rolled off in search of a husband. The next day, the oldest potato returned and happily declared, 'Mother, mother! I've done so well. I married a Jersey Royal'. The mother potato gasped in delight, 'Oh, my oldest child. That's so wonderful. I'm so proud of you'. The day after that, the middle potato daughter returned and happily declared, 'Mother, mother! I've done so well. I married a Prince Edward'. The mother potato, once again, gasped in delight and said, 'Oh, my second oldest child. That's so wonderful. I'm so proud of you'. The day after that, the youngest potato daughter returned and nervously declared, 'O mother, I tried my best; I really did. However, I married Gary Lineker'. The mother potato gasped in horror. 'Oh no. Not him!' she yelled, 'He's a common-tater!"
Emmy was the only one who laughed; the rest of the audience was dead silent. Even Sycamore and Aurora were confused about the joke and, along with the other villagers, stared at Edgar stangely. Edgar sighed at the long silence and the fact that Chief Morel barely cracked a smile at the punchline.
"Guess you guys have to know who Gary Lineker is...or what a Jersey Royal is...or a Prince Edward," he muttered.
Chief Morel raised an eyebrow at him, "What's a potato?"
"Damn. Plan C, then," Edgar sighed before he shrugged. He held open his hand out in front of him and showed off a small picture of a bee that he drew on the palm of his hand, "Bee-hold!"
"HEY!" Emmy yelled furiously.
Sycamore was up next and he too bowed gracefully to the village chief in greeting. The villagers giggled amongst themselves at what was drawn on Sycamore's face, but the professor ignored them and focused on the elder.
"Greeting, Chief Morel. My name is Professor Desmond Sycamore."
"Hmm?" Chief Morel leaned forwards and sniffed the air, "What is that sickly sweet smell? Is that a fruit cake somwhere around here?"
"Ah, I belive the scent you've detected is my cologne," Sycamore polietly said, "Allow me please to tell you a joke which you will hopefully find...amusing."
"Hmph. Go on then," Chief Morel muttered, "Would have been better if you brought a fruitcake though."
"Ahem," Sycamore cleared his throat, "Once upon a time, there was a familu of deer in a forest: a mother, a daughter and a son. The mother deer was renowned for bakking delcious cakes and she would make them for all the other animals in the forest. Everone talked about what a lovely family they must be, so kind and giving! One day, though, the mother deer caught a cold, so she asked her son to go out and deliver the treats in her place. The son agreed, picked up a basket filled with goodies and left the house. His first stop was house belonging to a family of rabbits. The rabbit family had never met the boy before, but they welcomed him in, saying that, knowing his mother, he must be a lovely boy indeed. They sat down and, to the rabbits' suprise, the young deer began to scoff up all the cakes right in front of them! He then proceeded to smash up their home, before darting off, shouting and screaming. Shocking behavior! Needless to say, the animals of the forest learnt an important lesson that day: You shouldn't judge a buck by it's mother."
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"Wise words," the chief said as he nodded his head and scratched his chin, "Now did you say you had a joke for me?"
Sycamore's eye twitched in annoyance.
"Well, you see, that bit at the end was the joke," Sycamore explained, "It's a witty play on words of a common idiom."
"Witty? What was witty about it?" Chief Morel snapped, "And here I had my hopes up because you smelled like my favourite pudding."
Sycamore said nothing. He maintained a calm smile on his face, but everybody could see a vein bulging angrily on his forehead. Hoping to help, Edgar walked up to the side of the stage and held up a pen to him.
"You want to do the 'Bee-hold' joke for the hell of it?"
"No, Edgar," Sycamore replied through gritted teeth, "No, I do not."
"Well, that was a waste of time?" Edgar muttered as he, Sycamore, Emmy and Aurora walked away from the festival and back to the centre of the village, "We really need to come up with better material."
They decided to leave for now and come back later with a different strategy. Clearly, they were not making any progress. Sycamore hummed in annoyance; his eyes glaring at the ground as he tried not to look angry.
"Our humerous jokes was perfectly fine," he muttered, "Perhaps these bumpkins aren't sophisticated enough to comprehend my wit..."
Aurora gave him a worried look, "I sense a storm brewing within the professor."
"I think we all do," Emmy murmured before she smiled cheerfully, "Let's not give up now. Why don't we collect as much information we can about the chief from the other villagers. That way, we'll be able to get a idea of what he'll find funny."
Edgar nodded in agreement, "Yeah, alright. It's better than my suggestion of doing a play to perform."
"An original performance might amuse him," Sycamore said.
"Original? I was thinking of ripping of that 'Four Candles' sketch from 'The Two Ronnies'."
"Sorry, was that 'Four Candles' or 'Fork Handles'?" Aurora asked.
"That, my prehistoric friend, is exactly the point."
"...I don't understand."
"Ah, look who it is."
They turned around at the new voice and saw Aminita walking towards them with a smile on her face.
"Nice seeing you again. How did it go? Did you make the chief laugh?"
"I'm afraid not," Emmy sighed with a shake of her head, "Your chief doesn't seem to be in a good mood."
Aminita giggled, "Oh dear. He's still being a grumpy so-and-so, hm?"
"Indeed he is. You don't happen to know why he is in such a foul mood, would you?"
"I really can't say...but there's definitely something off about him. Something more than the lack of a sense of humour," Amanita answered as she scratched her head throughtfully, "Still, he always has time to enjoy my food once in a while. He never says no to a bit of my cooking."
"Is that right?" Edgar asked.
"Well, if you really want to know more, you could always ask his family," she said, pointing towards the left of them, "The Morel's hut is just west of here. You can't miss it."
They looked to where she was pointing and saw a dirt track that led into the jungle on the edge of the village. The chief's hut must be quite away from the village itself.
"We will, thank you, Aminita," Edgar said, "You were very helpful."
"No problem," the woman grinned, "Now if you ever get hungry, come to me and I'll whip you up a lovely stew."
"Ooh, traditional Phong Gi cuisine," Emmy said with interest, "What sort of things do you use?"
"Oh nothing special," she giggled, "Warty foulcap, mature parnsip and a liberal helping of moss and bark for that added texture. It's perfectly safe to eat once you boil off the poison."
"...we'll think about it."
"That's a no then, huh?"
Bostonius
Raymond sat down on the sofa and placed a plate on the coffee table before him. On the plate was a single BLT sandwich that he had just made for himself. He placed a napkin over his lap, scooted on to the edge of his seat before he rubbed his hands in anticipation.
"Finally," he whispered to himself as he raised the sandwich up to his mouth.
He was about to eat it then...but he felt a stange bump on the sandwich.
He frowned in confusion as he poked the bump again and wondered what it coukd be before he finally lifted up the bread to see what was underneath. To his dismay, he found a black and orange mushroom growing from out from one of the lettuce. He stared at it in utter bafflement, wondering where it had come from. As he did, Layton happened to walk on by and noticed the mushroom as well.
"Oh, I see you have discovered a Nascitur Nusquam mushroom," Layton informed, "I hear they sporn and grow rapidly. Quite the find, Raymond."
"Yes," Raymond grumbled with a miserable sigh, "Quite."
Scene 6 - Chief's House
Outside Phong Gi
The route to Chief Mosel's house was long and winding with the dirt road itself being slippery from the pools of mud and the patches damp of moss and mushrooms. Fallen trees and overgrown plants obstructed their way a little bit which made finding where the house they were looking for much harder. Edgar had forgotton how far out they travlled; it had probably been half-an-hour of walking or so; and it was getting tired of the heat and humidity with each step.
"Surely, it can't be any further," Emmy sighed as she wiped her brow, "If an elderly chief can make the trip then surely we can."
"Maybe he rides on one of those...what are they called? Palanquins," Edgar suggested.
"I would have expected a more maintained road if that was the case," Sycamore commented, "Come on now. A little further and we can rest for a bit."
They continued down the track; their patience waning with every step; but Aurora stopped suddenly when she spotted something on the side of the path.
"Oh no."
They turned around at her soft gasp.
"What's the matter?" Emmy asked.
Aurora pointed to what she was looking at in concern, "It look like somebody fell over here."
They followed her pointed finger and saw, to their suprise, a human-sized print in the mud from when somebody had fallen flat on their face.
"Hell of a fall," Edgar said, "Must have been hilarious to watch it happen."
"Edgar!"
"Oh, they're fine! They would still be in the mud if they were injured!"
Sycamore knelt down and studied the 'humanprint' closely.
"Looks like a fresh print. Maybe a day old," he hummed before he looked around his surroundings, "There are plenty of objects he could have tripped over but...hm, well, that's interesting."
"What is?"
Sycamore stood back up and pointed towards a large flower not too far. It had red and white dotted petals that were a big as a human hand surrounding a deep bowl-like stigma. The flower was squashed somewhat as if it had been trampled or walked on. Edgar and Emmy recoiled slightly as soon they recognised it.
"A rafflesia flower!"
"Aren't they supposed to smell like a corpse or something!?"
"They usually would," Sycamore said as he gave a investigative sniff, "But this one doesn't seem to smell of anything at all. What I find strange is that how could anyone not spot it and to carelessly trample over it."
Edgar hummed thoughtfully. He was right; the flower was so bright and so massive that any normal person would have avoided it. And yet here it was. He gave the 'humanprint' another look and wondered if there was a connection between it and the flower.
For now, they decided to leave it behind and continue on their way. Eventually, they came across a tall mushroom-shaped house that stood on stilts. It was made of orange wood and had little windows; one of which led out to a small balcony overlooking the front entrance. A rickety staircase led up to the green curtain that acted as a door; above the entrance way there a decorated ox skull with two bird wings stretched out on either side of it. This had to the place that Amanita was talking about.
They approached the house and saw an elderly woman standing outside it, carrying a large sack of freshly picked mushrooms over her shoulder. She was short and round with tanned skin and a wrinkled face. Her hair was a greyish white with a fringe so long that it came down over her face and shielded her eyes from view. She wore a simple brown dress whoch had a white hemline and a necklace with three crystal fangs. She was about to ascend the stairs towards the front door to her house when she spotted them from the corner of her eye.
"Hm? I never seen any of you before. You must be travellers," she said as she placed her sack on the ground next to her and gave them a warm smile, "Welcome to our village. My name is Lepidella; wife of that stubbon oaf that everyone calls the chief."
"Ahem, thank you and it's nice to meet you Lepidella," Sycamore said, ignoring her earlier remark, "My name is Professor Sycamore and these are my associates. We have just visited the festival in the village..."
"Yes, I can tell," Lepidella said as she studied his marked face beneath her hair.
"...oh...alright then," Sycamore said, slightly confused on how she knew that, "Well then, we have unfortunately failed to make your husband, the chief, laugh and so we were hoping to inquire about his behaviour."
"Oh, that old fossil?" Lepidella tutted irritably, "Homestly, he's not the sprightly young fellow he once was and yet he still thinks he can still hunt as well as he did fifty years ago. Hah! If my other half was half the hunter he used to be, we'd have food on the table before sundown!"
"So, you think the reason why he's so...tempermental is because he's getting old?" Emmy inquired.
"Too old and too senile!" Lepidella muttered with a shake of her head, "Just the other day he came back home from a hunt saying he'd lost his bow! I mean, how does that happen!? And then, last night, he came completly covered in mud as if he had fallen flat on his face! If he can't even walk properly, what chance does he have to hunt."
'Well, that explains the humanprint,' Edgar drearily thought, 'The chief was the one who fell over.'
Lepidella sighed miserably, "Truth be told, I think he's finding it tough to come to terms with his old age. I haven't seen him smile for weeks. And if I had a truffle for every time he just waltzed off, I'd be stuffed! But you can pretty much guarantee he'll come barbing though the door while I'm in the middle of cooking dinner. It's pretty impressive."
Realisation struck Edgar like a thunderbolt. It suddenly all made sense now. The reason why none of their jokes worked at the festival, the reason why keep wandering off and falling over and, most importantly, the reason why Chief Morel is in such a bad mood.
Edgar gasped and clicked his fingers, "Of course," he declared, surpising everybody around him. He reached forwards, lightly grabbed Lepidella's hand and shook it, "Lepidella, thank you so much. I finally understand now. I guarantee, by the end of the day, your husband will be as right as rain."
"W-what do you mean?" the elderly woman asked.
In response, Edgar spun around and raised a single finger upwards.
"You'll see, I promise," he said before he began to walk back down the dirt path, "Come on Team Edgar. We're going to solve this case right now!"
"Team Edgar?" Emmy grumbled in annoyance, "I never agreed to that."
Nonetheless, they said their goodbyes to Lepidella and followed Edgar down the path. After walking away a small distance, Edgar twirled around and grinned at the three of them.
"You know that annoying, but kinda cool thing the Prof does when he's worked something out, but he won't reveal it until later?" he asked.
"Yes," Emmy agreed with a nod of her head.
"Well, I'm going to do the same."
"Oh great."
"So, no questions, otherwise you'll ruin it. I need you to gather a few things," he told them, "I need something thin, smooth and cylindrical. Like a twig, but more robust. And they have to be the same length."
"Intriguing," Sycamore hummed, "I suppose I can find something like that."
"Good. I also need glue."
"Glue?" Emmy asked, "Where are we going to get that? I suppose we can use some tree resin or-"
"Tree resin won't work. Sorry. It needs to be strong stuff and can dry quickly."
"Well," Emmy hummed before she smiled confidently, "I'll find something. You can rely on me!"
"Thank you."
"What about me?" Aurora asked as she stepped forwards, "What should I try and find."
Edgar smiled and placed his hand on his hips, "Actually, I'm going to need your help finding this last one," he told her confidently, "I don't suppose you have ever heard of potholing, have you?"
Limestone Caves
After searching around, Edgar had finally found what he was hoping to find; a limestone cavern filled with crystals. He and Aurora had found the mouth of the caves near a waterfall and ventured into them. The floor and walls were slightly wet and there was a damp smell that hung on the air; it was so slippery that Aurora would have fallen over if Edgar hadn't caught her in time.
Finally, after a few minutes of crouching and weaving through stalagmites and stalactites, they had reached a tall, wide cavern hidden under the earth. Edgar shone a torch around him and saw dozens of crystal formations, some twice their size, glitter and glisten an orangish pale; it was pretty to watch and the two couldn't help but stare in awe of the splendour that surrounded them. However, Edgar was reminded of why they came here and snapped out of it.
"Let's admire it later," he told her, his voice echoing through the caverns over and over before disappearing into the darkness, "We need to find a formation the right size."
They slowly and cautiously walked through the cavern using Edgar's torch to find their way around. Aurora shivered slightly at how cold it was inside; a stark contrast to what it was like outside; before she whispered to Edgar up ahead.
"How did you know these caves will be here?" she asked, "I don't remember you asking about it to the local villagers."
"Good question," he replied, "Actually, I didn't know these were here. I assumed there would be."
"How so?"
"Since we arrived, we haven't seen any flys around and we haven't been bitten by any mosquitoes, did you know that?"
"I suppose we haven't."
"That must mean there must be a large bat population in the area who have been eating all the insects, leaving the residents of Phong Gi safe from any potential diseases. Therefore, if there are bats, that must mean they need a place to live. And where do bats live?"
"In caves. I see now. That's how you knew," she realised, "That must mean living near limestone caves is significant in settlement developement in some parts of the world."
"Yep. It all it took was to find it-aha!" he excalimed as he shone a torch at one crystal formation. It was almost as tall as him and it's hexagonal crystals were large than any of the ones they spotted before, "Here we go. Aurora, do you mind holding the torch?"
"Of course."
Aurora took the torch and held it steadily towards the crystal formation as Edgar got to work. From seemingly nowhere, he pulled a hammer and chisel and began to chip away at the crystals carefully.
"We just need a few of these and we should be sorted," he told her as he chiselled away, "Thanks for coming with me. I needed your help."
"To hold the torch?"
"Well, yes. And to keep me company. I like spending time with you."
Aurora gave a small smile, but it eventually was replaced by a worried frown as she looked down towards the ground.
"I'm...sorry."
"Huh? Sorry for what?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the formation.
"I haven't been much help today. You, the professor and Emmy tried your best to make Chief Morel laugh...but I did nothing."
"That's alright. You didn't have a joke to tell, so what? Just as long as you laughed at the jokes we told."
"I didn't."
"Oh...well, that's alright, suppose. Guess we have to try harder next time."
"I...don't really understand."
"Yeah, I guess it didn't help that you didn't get the references."
"No...I don't really understand comedy."
Edgar stopped chipping away at the crystal and looked over his shoulder at her. She looked upset; not in the way that somebody insulted her or made her feel bad, but more in the way that she was trying her hardest to do something, but failing every time. In this case, she was failing to understand what comedy is. He turned back around and placed the hammer and chisel on the ground so he could focus with undivided attention.
"Comedy isn't really something you have to understand. It's just something that makes you and others laugh," he told her.
"But what is it?" Aurora asked, her brow knitted in confusion and sadness, "Can you explain it to me?"
"Um..."
Edgar thought for a few seconds and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He then got an idea. He took out his notebook and pen and began to draw something horizantally on a spare piece of paper. Aurora watched him curiously and waited until he was done. Eventually, he stopped drawing and turned the notebook towards her. He had drawn four rectangular boxes, one on top of the other, and in each box he had written something. It read:
'Physical Humour'
'Word-Play Humour'
'Situational Humour'
'Meta Humour'
"So, first of all, you've got 'Physical Humour," he explained, "This is your basic type of comedy which anybody can do without saying a word. Kind of like a silent movie. You've got things like: people hitting each other, tripping over objects, dropping things, bumping into things and the most popular..."
He pretended to fall on to his side slowly so that he landed on his shoulder gently and without injuring himself.
"...falling over. You see?"
"Ah!" Aurora exclaimed in shock as she leapt to his side, "Are you well!? You just fell over!"
Edgar sweat dropped at her panic and instantly got back onto his feet, "It's fine. I was just demonstrating a pratfall," he told her, holding out his hands to calm her down, "I'm not hurt at all. Still, must have been funny, right?"
Aurora titled her head to the side and frowned in concern, "I feel...more worried. Worried that you would hurt yourself."
"...Okay, bad demonstration," he admitted, "The next level of comedy is 'Word-Play Humour'. These are your basic verbal humour which often rely on making a word sound like another word for comedic effect. For example, did you know I used to run a dating agency for chickens? Yeah, it was a real struggle trying to make hens meet."
...
...
...
...
"No, I did not know that. That's interesting," Aurora kindly said, causing Edgar to hum.
"Well, did you also know that the instrutions for easy oragami is to-fold."
"No, I didn't know that either."
"...err...you know, I know the bloke who made the lions in Trafalgar Square. It was cutting edge at the time; it really set the cat amongst the pigeons."
"...um..."
"Velcro what a rip-off."
"...Are you alright, Edgar?"
Edgar couldn't help but feel a little defeated by Aurora's confused stare. He softly sighed and looked her dead in the eyes.
"The Azran Eggs...are...Egg-cellent."
...
...
...
...
"I believe it's pronounced 'excellent', Edgar."
"Okay, the third level of comedy is 'Situational Humour'. This is more complex comedy that could be stretched out across an entire scene. Anything can happen from intwined stories, misunderstandings, coincidences and such. Like a Shakesperan comedy of errors. Like...what about this joke. Ahem, a man goes to the doctors and he recieves some medicine for his condition. On the side of the medicine bottle there is a little label that reads 'Drink medicine and then have a hot bath. A week later, the man returns to say that his condion hasn't improved at all and so the doctor asks him, 'Are you sure you are following the instructions?' to which the man replies, 'Of course, doctor. I've been drinking the medicine, but I still haven't finished drinking the bath water'. You see?"
Aurora sadly shook her head, "I see the man had made a mistake...but I don't see why it is funny."
"Well..." Edgar sighed, "I would go over 'Meta Humour' which is the most complex form if comedy, but maybe we shoudl skip it. After all, not everybody can pull off a good meta joke. Isn't that right, Victor?"
(A.N: Hey! Don't insult me in my own story!)
Edgar rubbed the back of his head and sighed in disappointment, "Sorry, I'm not explaining it very well."
Aurora shook her head, "No...I'm sure you are...it's just me who doesn't understand," she looked down at the ground sadly, "It's...laughter and humour important?"
"Yep, it's what make us human. To laugh and enjoy every silly little thing no matter the circumstances. It's much better than living in absolute misery."
Aurora tightened her jaw and closed her eyes firmly. With one hand, she clutched her hand into a fist and bowed her head so low that her chin pressed against her chest.
"So..." she uttered hesitantly, "...if I don't understand humour...does that mean I'm not human?"
She waited for an answer to her question. For him to reply and for her fears to become real. However, she wasn't expecting for Edgar to lightly flick her forhead which made her jump and look back up at him.
"Of course not, you muppet," he told kindly, "a sense of humour isn't the only thing that makes you human; there are hundreds of things. Firstly, there are emotions and I've seen you have those. You're kind, caring and determined to learn and help out anyway you can. You've got a brilliant mind and a kind heart, but, most of importantly of all, you are recognised," he softly told her, "I recognise you as a human and nobody could convince me otherwise, alright?"
Aurora blinked in suprise; her pale cheeks blushing slightly from what he said. A few seconds of processing what he said went by and soon a small, but happy smile appeared on her face.
"Yes..."
"Good," he said with a grin as he picked up his hammer and chisel and began pickung away at the crystal again, "Now I don't want you thinking like that again, you got that? You're are worth way more than you think you do."
She watched him work intently; the words he told her echoing in her head over and over. She raised her free hand and placed it on her chest where her heart should be and, for the briefest of seconds, felt it beat steadily.
'I am recognised,' she thought, 'He sees me as a human.'
A fluttering of wings snapped her out of her daze. She turned the torch upwards towards the ceiling of the caverns to try and see what it could have been. What she saw, made her eyes widen.
"Edgar...you mentioned bats earlier."
"Yep," he replied as he chipped away as the crystal.
"They usually roost during the day, don't they?"
"Yes, they..."
He trailed off slightly and stopped what he was doing. He turned his attention towards the ceiling...and what he saw made him gulp nervously.
"Ah...they look kind of mad..." he said.
He then turned back to his chiselling. Only this time it was a much faster.
"Aurora, when I'm done with this, prepare to run."
"O-okay."
Grand Stage, Phong Gi
Not too long later, they had returned to the place what the festival was taking place and met up with both Sycamore and Emmy. Edgar was pleased to see that the festival was still going on and it seemed that the jokes and skits the villagers were putting on where failing just as they were that morning. The audience looked exhausted and Chief Morel looked even more miserable than ever.
They watched as the latest performer dragged himself of the stage in disappointment, only to he replaced by another villager hoping their joke would be a hit.
"They're really still going, huh?" Emmy hummed, "If it was me, I would have given up by now."
"They must think of their chief highly if they're willing to put up with it," Sycamore said with a nod of his head, "Quite a show of loyalty."
Edgar smirked confidently and placed his hand into the pockets of his leather jacket, "Lucky for them, I know what is wrong with him," he said, "Have you got the stuff that I asked."
Sycamore reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded hankerchief. He pulled back the corner of the cloth to reveal two thin, long bones that was the size of a hand.
"I managed to find these among the food scraps in Amanita's kitchen," he explained, "They are robust, long and thing. Just as you request."
"Perfect. And you Emmy?"
She responded by pulling out a small jar filled with a clear sticky liquid and giving it to him.
"Slime from a Pritt Snail," she told him, "I've read about them a while back and it was a lucky find. They don't usually live in humid places. It is said that they excrete a liquid that is a strong as superglue. Not bad, huh?"
"Huh...gross," Edgar said, earning an annoyed look from Emmy, "We just have one last thing then. Aurora."
Aurora reached into her pocket and pulled out two circular-cut crystals.
"We retrieved these from the limestone caves," she told them, "We also managed to have the cut by one of the villgers who we ran into after fleeing the bats."
"Oh...wait, what?"
"Never mind," Edgar said as he took the crystals from Aurora, "Time to set my plan into action."
"What on earth are you doing, child!?" Chief Morel snapped at the latest performer from his throne, "Do you think this is funny?"
The villager gulped nervously, "But Chief it looks like I'm pulling my thumb off," he explained as he demonstrated the hand trick once again, "Pretty funny, right?"
"Ridiculous, get off the stage," the chief grumbled.
As the performed sadly walked off the stage, Edgar confidenfly took his place with his hands behind his back. He bowed to the chief, once again, and smirked.
"Hello again, Chief Morel. Remember me from earlier?"
"No," Chief Morel replied sternly as he lent his head on his hand, "Let me guess, another fruitless attempt to crack a simple joke."
"Oh yes, but, before that, I would like to give you something that would make the whole expereince a little bit better."
He stepped towards the chief and presented him with something he had just finished making: a pair of glasses. The lenses were made of the cut crystal, the frames were made from animal bones and it was all held together by glue made from the slime of a Pritt Snail. He placed the glasses into the cheif's hands.
"Please, put these on," he requested.
Chief Morel studued the glasses in his hands with his bony fingers before raising them to his face and putting them over his eyes. He blinked once…twice…thrice before looking around his surroundings.
"What the…"
Edgar turned around and gestured for Sycamore to come up on stage, "Your turn Sycamore. Tell him your joke again."
Sycamore cleared his throat, straightened his tie and stepped onto the stage and stood before the chief.
"Very well," he secretly smirked, "There once was a family of-"
But that was as far into the joke that he managed to say before Chief Morel did something astounding. The elderly man took one look through his glasses at Sycamore's face…
…and roared with laughter.
"Oh ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! What on earth!? Haha! Hilarious!!" he laughed merrily, "That's so funny!"
The villagers in the audience were stunned. The chief, the same one who hadn't even cracked a smile for weeks no matter what they did, was laughing his head off. His head was reared back as he cackled, his slapped his hand on the arm rest of his throne and stamped his foot on the stage. Everyone was in disbelief.
"Chief Morel...is laughing!" one of the villagers, a man with large teeth yelled, "You've got to be joking!"
"Well, I never! Who'd have thought the gloomy so-and-so just needed a pair of glasses?" a villager woman sighed as she shook her head.
"I...didn't finish my joke," Sycamore uttered in bafflement.
Emmy rubbed the back of her head and hummed, "So, none of the villagers noticed his blindness, huh? No wonder they were confused."
Auora, who was stood beside her, frowned slightly, "How did Edgar know he only need spectacles?"
"Ah, of course," Emmy realised, "The first clue was the types of jokes we were using. He didn't laugh at my joke, because he couldn't see it and didn't laugh when Edgar's and the professor's jokes because he didn't understand them. Then, as we were investigating, it got more and more obvious that he was losing his eyesight. I mean he wasn't able to see an obvious thing like a rafflesia flower and he kept getting lost and even lost his bow. However, he was able to get around using his keen sense of smell."
"Smell?"
"He was able to smell Professor Sycamore and his cologne as well as Amanita's and his wife's cooking. He must have been following his nose fhe whole time."
"So..." Aurora slowly said, "...all of this happened... all because of his poor eyesight..."
Aurora blinked as she slowly realised what was wrong was all because of a misunderstanding...
...and so she laughed.
It was a booming laugh like the chief's and nobody but Emmy seemed to have noticed at all, but it was definitly a laugh.
"How funny," she whispered with a smaile, "I...am amused."
Meanwhile, back on stage, Chief Morel continued to chuckle, cackle, howl and roar. His laughter was so loud and so powerful that Edgar was honestly worried he would hurt himself. However, the chief had managed to calm himself down somewhat from a chortle to a giggle and beamed happily through his white beard.
"I don't know what you outsiders have done, but I haven't laughed like this in ages!"
"It's no problem, sir. Happy to help," Edgar said with a grin.
"Hee! Hee! Hee! Thank you ever so much, young man! How could I ever thank you!" Cheif Morel tittered before he gasped, "Ah, I know," he reached for the Azran Egg that was hung around his neck and took it off before handing it out to him, "Here, take this eggy thing."
Edgar accepted it and raised an eyebrow at him, "This? Isn't this like a priceless relic or something?"
"It is, but I've been bored out of skull for weeks, my back's giving me grief and my wife's always nagging," he muttered, "I thought a festival might lighten life up a bit, but no. All we've had is a slew of terrible acting verging on the invisible..."
"Ah, what!?" one of the villagers cried out, "We were really trying!"
"...but you've changed all that. I won't be needing this eggy thing to console me any more," the chief said as he sighed in satisfaction.
Edgar looked down at the Azran Egg in his hands before he shrugged, "Well, if you say so."
"We thank you, Chief Morel," Syacmore said with a small bow, "You are more generous!"
"PFFFT!!! HAHAHA!" Chief Morel laughed delightfully, "Your face looks like a cat! Hahahaha!"
Sycamore raised an eyebrow eyebrow at him before he coughed jnto his hand.
"It appears the lenses in your makeshift glasses provide the chief with a slightly distorted view of the world," he said as he pushed his own glasses up to the bridge of his nose.
"...Yeah..." Edgar said, trying to hide his grin, "...I think it does as well."
En Route To The Bostonius
A while later, they had walked back through the jungle to the Bostonius with the newly recovered Azran Egg in Aurora's hands. Out of curtesy, they had stayed behind a little longer and enjoyed the festival with the rest of the villagers. But now, they had to leave and move onto their next destination.
"That went awfully well," Emmy commented happily as she skipped over a fallen log, "And we didn't have to go around a whole island, stop a misogynestic ritual or find a pheonix to it."
"And we haven't bumped into those Targent Agents at all," Edgar said, "They must be still asleep back in Mosinnia."
Sycamore gave a serious and thoughtful hum as he rubbed his chin, "Even so, we shouldn't allow ourselves to rest on our laurels. We only have one last Azran Egg to find before we complete the collection. Knowing Targent, they are probably closing in on it as well."
Edgar leaned over to Emmy and whsipered, "And I thought the Prof's lactures were tedious."
Emmy chuckled at that, but kept it quiet enough so Sycamore wouldn't hear.
Edgar then turned to Aurora, who was gazing down at the Azran Egg in her hands as she walked, and offered her a soft smile, "This is around the time you remember something, Aurora. You doing alright?"
The young girl snapped out of her daze and looked up at him, "Oh...yes, I actually do remember," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I can see...an arid desert. Here...this entire land was a gaping void. The Azran transformed it into a vibrant oasis," she opened her eyes and gave them a small smile, "That is what the egg is telling me...it's rather egg-cellent to say the least..." she gave Edgar a worried look, "Did I say that right?"
"Ah! You made a joke," Edgar happily cried as he hugged her around the shoulders, "I'm so proud of you! I think I'm going to cry!"
Emmy sweat dropped with a goodnatured smile, "A basic joke, but a joke nonetheless."
"My joke about the deer family was better," Sycamore grumbled bitterly.
Through the hanging leaves of the trees, they spotted the clearing with the Bostonius still where they had left it. They broke through the treeline and crossed the grassy ground to the airship and saw Layton waiting for them on the steps.
"Hello," he happily greeted as he descended the steps to meet them, "I was just about wondering when you will return," he said before he noticed Sycamore's face, "Oh...um...Professor Sycwmore..."
"We apologise for the wait," Sycamore told him, "We stayed for the festivities for a little while longer than we should have."
"A festival?"
"Yes, the villagers put it on in hopes to make their cheif laugh," Emmy added, "Everybody had a go at it."
"Ah, I see now," Layton said as he nodded at Sycamore, "I'm suprised that you partaked in it, Professor."
Sycamore smirked proudly; the whisker marke on his cheeks sparkling under the sun above them.
"Well, usually I wouldn't. But there are times when the circmustance calls for a more...whimsical solution."
"Indeed," Layton said with an amused smile.
Sycamore nodded stiffly before he headed towards the Bostonius, "Now if you'll excuse me, I will need to make preperations for take off," he told them as he climbed up the steps and stepped inside the airship.
"Quite perculiar," Layton mumurred before he turned back to Aurora, "I see you have acquired another Azran Egg. This is the prenultimate one, am I correct?"
"Y-yes," Aurora said with a shy nod of her head, "one more to go."
"The place we're going next is called Torrido on the Mexian/American border," Edgar said, "One quick leap over the Pacific and we're there. Unless we want to stop over at Manila, I hear the food there is great."
"It's a shame we can't stay here for longer," Emmy sighed as she took a few more photos with her camera, "This place is very pretty"
"I'm sure we can always come back here if we want to," Layton told them, "Now let's get going. Take off is-"
Suddenly, there was an angry shout from the Bostonius which sounded like it had come from Sycmamore.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!! WHO DID THIS!?"
At the furious cry, Aurora turned to Edgar in concern.
"Shouldn't we...escape before he realises that we were the culprits?" she whispered to him.
Edgar shrugged, "Nah, we need to get on the Bostonius anyway so we could get to the next destination. Getting caught was inevitable," he said before he gave her a smile, "Besides, I've had fun and that's the important thing."
Aurora blinked in surprise before she gave a slow nod in understanding.
In a strange way, she somehow knew what he meant.
That's it for now
I hope you had enjoyed the chapter. Nothing much to say, but I hope to see you next time
Thanks :)