Heretical Fishing

Chapter 54: Eccentric

Chapter 54: Eccentric

The sun was midway through the morning sky, its warm touch and a cool breeze highlighted by the silence that spread over the crowd.

George cleared his throat once more, closing his eyes to collect himself.

Poor bloke, I thought. For someone with debilitating social anxiety, addressing all these people must be a nightmare...

He started speaking, his voice shaky and hesitant.

"As you all know, taxes have been progressively increasing in the past months..."

A soft murmur came from the crowd, a large collection of the present farmers both agreeing and lamenting the fact.

"I assure you, this was as the crown willed, and I understand your pain. No one has felt the pinch of decreased funds as much as I. You..."

He spread his arms wide, encompassing the crowd.

"The farmers of Tropica—you are the people that keep the village afloat through your hard work. The knowledge that you have been doing it tough has filled my heart with despair, and my every waking moment has been tormented by your plight."

As he spoke, George seemed to gain more confidence. His voice grew deeper and clearer, his body language more robust.

Another murmur came from the crowd, this time with a notable tinge of hostility.

"But!" George yelled over the crowd's growing displeasure. "Today, we have news of tax relief!"

The murmuring shifted as people turned to their neighbors, whispering excitedly.

"Yes! It's True!"

George waited, letting the conversation swell and die down.

Man, he's actually pretty good at public speaking when he gets over his nerves. You go, George!"

When the crowd returned to silence, he continued.

"It is with great pleasure that I tell you, the workers—nay, the very backbone of Tropica—that the taxes will be returned to the level of three years prior. You will now—"

The gathered farmers erupted.

People yelled, whooped, hugged, and turned to each other, unbelieving.

I glanced at Maria; she embraced her father.

Roger held his daughter as she bounced on her toes, unable to contain her joy.

His lip curled in a smile, and I joined him, happy to see anything break through his exterior shell.

His eyes locked onto mine, and seeing my mirth, his scowl returned, so I laughed and looked away, not wanting to ruin their moment.

Similar scenes played out throughout the square, and I bathed in everyone's excitement.

George waited patiently atop his makeshift podium, a benevolent smile fixed on his face. There was still an underlying hint of his anxiety, but it was mostly buried.

It looks like he genuinely enjoys delivering the good news. It's heartwarming to know the village's lord actually cares about the farmers’ wellbeing.

When the noise died down again, he continued.

"That's right—your taxes will be one third of where they'd climbed to. My contacts in the capital have also assured me that, going forward, the taxes will remain stable at that reduced rate for the foreseeable future."

Again, the crowd erupted.

***

"... Barry?"

Barry’s heart tried to jump from his chest, and his eyes went wide as he stared down at Sharon.

"Sharon... you... recognize me?"

A smile teased the corner of her lips, only slightly diminished by her gaunt frame.

"Of course I recognize you, Barry. What an odd dream, though..."

"Sharon... you're not dreaming."

She shook her head lightly, finding the idea humorous.

"The system asking me to pick a name says otherwise. Usually I dream of Roger and Maria, but your face isn't unwelcome."

While the speed of her recovery was astonishing, the news of her awakening didn't shock Barry; that had been his plan, after all.

"Sharon... you're not dreaming. This is all real."

He leant down, picking up a pastry Roger had left, and the rest of the sugarcane juice.

"Try to eat and drink as much of this as possible. You've been unwell for a long time, but I suspect you'll recover quickly."

She smiled and nodded, picked the pastry up with one hand, and bit into it.

As the sensations hit her tongue, her eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes looked at the pastry, around the room, then back up at Barry.

She blinked rapidly, clearly processing the fact that this may not, in fact, be a dream.

He nodded.

“It's real.” Barry gestured around the room. “This is real.”

He pointed back down at the croissant and cup of sugarcane juice.

"While you eat and drink, let me tell you the story of how this all came to be..."

***

Theo, the crown auditor, walked ahead of where the merchant caravan was setting up.

He could hear voices in the near distance, both yelling and cheering.

Intent on finding the source of such joy, he strode through the winding streets of Tropica, following the sounds of jubilation.

The houses and store-fronts he passed were quaint, made of basic materials. Despite their rudimentary construction, he knew this to be the standard way of things outside of the capital, and just because they weren't as opulent as some of the mansions in Gormona, the families that lived within still experienced all the happiness, tragedy, and everything in between that came from existence.

If the inhabitants are always as happy as they sound now, Tropica might be my favorite village on this trip...

The sounds grew louder and louder, and he finally rounded a corner to find the crowd.

People were still cheering and yelling, and they hugged each other, showing their love through embrace.

A person stood above the crowd, smiling down at the crowd. Theo took him in and noted the hint of fear hiding behind a mask of magnanimity.

His training as an auditor was extensive, as was the standard that said profession was required to uphold. He could read people better than most, and this person towering above the others—the village's lord, if his attire could be believed—was a curiosity.

I'll have to interview him and get to the bottom of it...

The village lord cleared his throat, commanding everyone's attention.

"That is all I had to say, and I thank you for your attention and continued hard work. I trust that the reduced taxes will benefit you all, and I am truly blessed to be able to deliver such good news."

Theo's eyebrow rose, then he squinted at the lord.

Reduced taxes...? What's going on here...?

As if in afterthought, the lord raised a hand like he just recalled something; Theo saw through the act.

"Oh! I just remembered! As you all know, the merchant caravan will be arriving today, and with it comes a boon for the peasant—er—farmers and common folk of Tropica."

The gathered crowd grew quiet again, and the lord let the silence spread.

"I, George, have bought and paid for a coffee machine for your very own Sue to have—free of cost! Some of you may not even know what coffee is, but I hope that its affordable pricing, as well as its stimulating effect, will increase productivity and make even more money for your farms and families."

The crowd started murmuring, but only a few of them were making noises and gestures akin to surprise.

“I believe the merchant should be setting up west of the village even now, so I will leave you to your business.” George gave a flourishing bow. “Thank you for coming.”

The lord stepped down from his raised position and disappeared behind a building.

Theo watched the crowd as they once more turned to each other, almost as one. They discussed, speculated, and celebrated.

One man in particular caught Theo's attention.

Among the crowd, there was a single person that stood out like a weed among the roses. He wore the basic clothes of a farmer, yet where others excitedly spoke of the event just passed, the anomaly simply stood and smiled at those around him.

He's happy for those around him, but not for himself...?

Theo cocked his head, trying to work out why he stood out so much.

It's his garb, he decided. He doesn't look like a crafter or merchant—he looks like a farmer. If a noble, merchant, or crafter were to experience compersion for others, that I'd understand—but another farmer?

Too curious to leave it alone, Theo strode toward him.

***

I was happy that my heart might explode.

I smiled at everyone surrounding me, especially Maria and her father.

Roger had repositioned himself to not face me, but I could still see the smile spreading across the side of his face while he hugged his daughter tight.

Not wanting to stare, I cast my eyes around, looking at the rest of the people.

I found Helen and Paul off to the side, but there was no Barry in sight.

Huh. Maybe he's with Sharon, giving her some of that medi—

My thoughts stopped in their tracks as I felt a pair of eyes locking me down.

I glanced to the side and found a man approaching, his gaze pinned on me.

He wore clothes that presented a humble front, but they were anything but. Though constructed of basic materials, the cut and hem were immaculate, and no doubt prohibitively expensive.

My eyebrows furrowed.

What kind of person would buy such expensive clothes, then make them appear cheap...? I have to—

"Something confusing you, friend?" the man asked, giving me a genuine smile.

"Yeah, mate—your clothes! They're made to look cheaper than they are, right? I don't get why...?"

The man smiled and nodded.

"You have a good eye. Are you perhaps a merchant? Is that why my attire offends you?"

My eyebrows shot up.

"Offends?"

I laughed.

"Mate, I want a full wardrobe for myself!" I tugged at my linen clothing. "These can be scratchy, but I don't want to buy the good stuff and stand out from my neighbors, ya know?"

The stranger paused, cocked his head, and just when the silence was getting unforgettable, he chuckled.

"I approached because you confounded me and I wanted to understand why, but all you've done is give me more questions."

I grinned.

"Yeah, sorry about that, mate. I seem to have that effect on people. What did ya wanna ask? I'd be happy to help if I know the answer..."

His face tilted in confusion at my vernacular, but that was intentional—I just couldn't help myself.

He pointed down at my shirt.

"Well, I wanted to know about your clothes, actually. You dress like a farmer, but you're not one, are you?"

"Nope!" I extended a hand. "I'm Fischer, by the way."

He took my hand and shook it.

"Theo. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fischer."

"Pleasure's all mine, mate. But yeah, I'm not a farmer."

"What do you do, then?"

My curiosity for Theo grew as our conversation stretched on.

He was trying to present this as a conversation, but it was anything but—it was an interrogation.

I considered my response and decided lying would be a bad idea.

Theo seems exceptionally smart.

"I do heaps, mate! Recently I've helped in the tailors, the smithy, made some jewelry, and now that I think of it, I did do some farming. The fields are on my land, but they're not actually mine—I'm letting a neighbor use them to supplement their income."

As Theo's eyes weighed me, they gave nothing of his intent or thoughts away.

Finally, after what felt like too long a moment, he smiled and clapped me on the shoulder.

"It's truly a pleasure to meet you, Fischer—you seem like a good person."

Relief flooded me as I passed whatever test that was, but I paid it little mind.

"Likewise, mate—what about you? What do you do? I also find myself a little confused by your getup."

"Oh, I can't tell you yet. I hope I’ll see you later, though."

"Ahhh, you too... mate...?"

Theo was already gone, having pushed through the crowd toward the north side of Tropica.

I crossed my arms, watching where he'd gone.

"Weird bloke..."

***

Theo let the positive emotions from his interaction with Fischer linger, genuinely enjoying having met a kind soul.

He's clearly some sort of eccentric noble or heir to a house.

He smiled at Fischer's odd speech and eclectic range of activities.

Whatever else he is, he's kind. That's all that needs to be said.

Theo pulled out his map, and after scanning the streets scrawled on the parchment, pinpointed his location.

"Straight, then left, then right after two streets..."

As he strode away, he banished the echoes of his interaction with the friendly eccentric.

It's time to ask the lord about these 'reduced taxes'...