Jon eyed the scrawny donkey and nearly laughed. Initially, he'd picked the beast on a whim, hoping to embarrass Houshao'nao. Now, feeling a twinge of guilt, he said, "Alright, enough talk. He's yours, brother—do as you like with him. Now can we finally go drink?"
"Really? Thanks, Boss!" Houshao'nao beamed.
Watching their backs recede, the donkey's anxiety dissolved. *New life ahead—no more mill. Even if I have to endure his bullying, it's worth it,* it thought, thrilled to escape the grindstone's monotony.
The next morning, Houshao'nao woke to find Jon gone. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around, confused.
"Looking for your companion from last night?" a beautiful elf in a tavern uniform asked, approaching.
"Yeah, where'd my Boss go?" Houshao'nao scratched his head.
"He left early. You two were quite the rowdy pair, demanding endless drinks. Nearly worked me to death," the elf laughed.
"Seriously? S-sorry, we must've overdone it. Do you know where he went?" Houshao'nao blushed, mortified.
The elf shook her head. "No, but he left a message. Want to hear it?"
Houshao'nao nodded eagerly.
She mimicked Jon's gruff voice: "Tell the kid I'm gone. Tell him to work hard and remember to pay next time he 'treats.'" She giggled.
Houshao'nao's face burned. "R-right, I'll remember. I should go. By the way, your name is…?"
"Dier," the elf smiled.
"Dier? Pretty name. Why didn't you ask mine?"
"Please—you spent half the night clutching my hand, babbling about being 'Gris, a magician.' Though I sense no magic in you," Dier teased, blushing.
"Did I really? Sorry, sorry—must've been the wine." Houshao'nao fled the tavern, face scarlet.
In a corner, a disheveled, drunk magician cracked open a bleary eye, watching his retreat. *Gris? No, that posture… someone else. Did I mishear?* he muttered.
The donkey, still tied to a stump, chewed tasteless hay but hummed a dragon tune, elated. It had seen Jon stagger away without a glance, realizing it was free of the mill.
"Stop humming—someone'll hear," Houshao'nao warned, approaching.
"Yes, Boss. Saw Jon leave," the donkey said quickly.
"Mm. Listen—from now on, I'm your master. No slacking, no attitude. Got it? First rule: no shirking work—"
"Y-yes, Boss," the donkey replied, its excitement fading into unease about its future.
"…Got all that? Keep your head down. Now eat— I'm off to see Master Sheffield. First day as an attendant—gotta look presentable…" Houshao'nao rambled, leaving.
"Finally gone. Thought today was the end. Ha! Wait—*I'm* the one stuck with a master who's a lackey? Dammit, Gris, I curse your ancestors—" the donkey grumbled, realizing its plight.
At the town well, Houshao'nao splashed water on his face, studying his reflection. Gone was the handsome magician of two years ago; Durade's curse had shrunk him into this scrawny form, sealing his magic too.
"Damn Durade—deal with you later. Time for Master Sheffield," he muttered, glaring at his reflection.
At Sheffield's office, he knocked gently: "Master, are you in?"
"Houshao'nao? Enter. I've been expecting you," came the reply.
"Yes, Master." He forced a smile, in.
"Heh, you look sharp—though I heard you caused quite a ruckus last night," Sheffield said, frowning.
Houshao'nao stiffened. The guild and tavern shared the building; his antics with Jon must've reached Sheffield's ears. *First day and already in trouble,* he thought, speechless.
"Well? No explanation?" Sheffield pressed, tone neutral.
Head down, Houshao'nao said, "Sorry, Master. I'm sure you know the truth. No excuse, but it won't happen again."
"Why take all the blame? Jon bears responsibility too," Sheffield said, smirking.
"Pardon me, Master, but I won't shift blame. If my conduct displeases you, I'll leave," Houshao'nao said, meeting his gaze bravely.
Impressed by his resolve, Sheffield nodded, gesturing to a chair. "Sit. Your behavior was unseemly, but I'll overlook it—Jon explained he pressured you to drink. Quite a brother, eh?"
"Really? Boss Jon said that?" Houshao'nao asked, surprised.
Sheffield didn't answer, recalling his morning conversation with Jon. *Kerry was right—this boy is more than he seems. Why pass such a gem to me, old friend?*
Unaware of Sheffield's thoughts, Houshao'nao remembered Jon's gruff kindness, touched by the man's silent loyalty.
Sheffield cleared his throat, pulling him from his reverie. "Houshao'nao—your name is… unique. But as my attendant, you need a more fitting title. Understand?"
"Of course, Master. Please name me as you wish," Houshao'nao said humbly.
Sheffield scanned the room, pondering. *Don't let him name me after a chamber pot,* Houshao'nao panicked inwardly.
"Hmm… can't think of one now. We'll decide later," Sheffield said, dismissing the topic.
"Take your time, Master," Houshao'nao sighed in relief.
What pleased Sheffield most was Houshao'nao's humility—no matter the test, he remained calm, even cheerful. Nodding, he said, "Well, let's go. I need to step out."
"Yes, Master." Houshao'nao bowed, retrieving Sheffield's hat from a hook and offering it respectfully, then reaching for his staff…