Kapitel 42: Address in the Book!
The lavender farm just outside Bangor Harbor was a sight to behold, endless rows of vibrant purple flowers stretched across the land, swaying gently in the breeze. Nestled amidst the flowers stood charming red windmill cottages, adding to the serene beauty of the scene. It was a peaceful haven by the harbor, a place where visitors could forget their worries and lose themselves in the colors and scents.
Beauvoir followed the other workers quietly, her curiosity piqued by the talk of the day; the eldest lady of the manor was arriving. The whole house seemed to be in a flurry of activity, with the butler himself greeting her at the gates. He was even sternly warning everyone to keep their distance and not cause any trouble.
Beauvoir had never seen someone of such importance up close, and her interest stirred. But she was a laundry maid, and her responsibilities were clear. She had a mountain of clothes waiting to be washed, and if she didn't finish them in time, the supervisor wouldn't hesitate to punish her. The work was tough, but it came with decent pay, food, and shelter. She couldn't afford to lose her job.
The memory of the woman who had been kicked out for ruining two pieces of clothing lingered in Beauvoir's mind as a grim reminder. She focused on her task, scrubbing the laundry with diligence, trying to ignore the growing buzz of excitement around her.
Outside, she could hear the servants chatting, their voices full of admiration for the lady's beauty.
"Miss, you're so beautiful! With your long golden hair, you look just like a princess from a fairytale."
"She was so kind, she even gave Tom a gold coin as a reward!"
Beauvoir felt a twinge of envy, but not jealousy. She knew better than to get too close to people like her. With her clumsy nature, any attempt to get noticed could easily lead to trouble. She focused on the task at hand, hanging the freshly washed clothes on the line.
Just then, the supervisor entered the courtyard with a dark expression, flanked by several other servants. Beauvoir immediately wiped her hands on her apron and forced a nervous smile.
"Supervisor," she greeted, her heart sinking.
"Someone says they saw you stealing," the supervisor said, his tone cold and accusing.
Beauvoir's eyes widened in shock. "No, I didn't steal anything," she quickly protested, her voice shaking.
But before she could say more, another servant hurried in, holding a small gold ring. "We found this in her bag," they said, their voice stern and accusing.
Beauvoir's stomach turned as she looked at the ring. She knew she hadn't taken it, but how could she prove it? The other servants, some who had worked here for years, nodded in agreement.
"Yes, we saw it," one of them said. "We watched her take it from the shelf and hide it in her bag."
"No, it's not like that!" Beauvoir pleaded, her voice breaking.
The accusations continued to mount, each servant adding their own statement, and Beauvoir's world seemed to collapse around her. The supervisor's expression remained blank, unreadable. He had fired someone for theft not long ago, and Beauvoir couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to be next.
With a wave of his hand, the supervisor gestured for her to come forward.
"Come here," he said, his voice flat.
Beauvoir's legs felt weak as she stepped toward him, her heart racing. She had always worked hard, doing her best to avoid trouble, but now it seemed her efforts had been in vain.
"I've been watching you," the supervisor said, his gaze piercing. "You've been diligent, but something's off here. I'm afraid I have no choice."
Beauvoir swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I didn't steal it, please believe me."
The supervisor's face remained impassive as he spoke. "I don't care whether you took it or not. There are too many people here, and the big shots upstairs are already unhappy. It's your behavior that's the problem, not the theft. You've offended people with your manners."
Beauvoir felt a cold wave of despair wash over her. She had no idea what she had done wrong, but she knew it didn't matter. The supervisor had already made up his mind.
Without another word, he handed her her wages for the month, early. "Go find another job," he said, his tone dismissive.
As she stood there, stunned, the words echoed in her mind. *Find another job*. It was the end of her time here, and the future seemed uncertain.
----
Leonard looked up from the book he had been reading, his thoughts interrupted by a soft knock on the wooden door of his balcony. "Come in."
David entered, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness. His hands fidgeted, as if he didn't know whether to shake Leonard's hand or just wring them in agitation. There was a fire in his eyes, a rare sight that Leonard had never seen before. His tail even twitched slightly, betraying his nerves.
"Master, can you help me with something?" David's voice trembled, and Leonard couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It was clear that whatever this was, it meant a lot to him.
"Have you found your wife?" Leonard guessed, his voice calm but his heart sensing the significance of the moment.
David's face lit up, the excitement in his eyes unmistakable. "I found her," he replied, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I asked around and followed a lead. Today, they told me they had a clue, and... I found her. It's really her, my wife and my child. But, I couldn't bring myself to see her yet."
David's voice faltered as he spoke. Leonard could feel the weight of his words, the love, the fear, and the longing.
"I'm terrified that my appearance will scare her away," David admitted softly, his head hanging low. "The more you care about someone, the harder it is to face them when you fear they might not recognize you anymore. My face, my form... they're so different now."
Leonard nodded quietly, understanding the inner turmoil that came with the battle between love and fear. After a long pause, David spoke again, his voice slightly more hopeful. "Master, can you help me? Just… go see her tomorrow. You can pretend to be a friend. Here's the money I saved up."
David fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a small purse and handing it to Leonard, his hands trembling. The offer was genuine, but it was clear that it wasn't just about the money. It was about taking the first step, with Leonard's help.
Leonard paused for a moment, weighing the situation in his mind. He had promised to help David, and this seemed like an important moment for him. "Give me the address, and I'll go check it out tomorrow."
David's face brightened with relief. "Thank you, Master. I… I can't thank you enough."
After exchanging the address, David quickly left through the window, his excitement carrying him away before he could remember to close the balcony door behind him. Leonard smiled to himself, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a while. He was glad to see David so animated, a stark contrast to the solemn figure he had been when they first met.
Leonard put the book he had been reading aside and stood up, walking over to the balcony. The cool night air blew in, making the curtains flutter slightly. He pulled the curtains closed, sealing out the cold, and went back to his desk.
But as he sat down, he froze. Something was off.
There, on top of the alchemy book he had left open, was a new book. It was bound in brown cowhide, its pages thick with age. Leonard's eyes narrowed. He was sure that book hadn't been there just a moment ago.
He scanned the room carefully. The room was quiet, empty, just as it had been when he last looked. But the book; he couldn't deny that it was real.
"Selena?" Leonard called out quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. But there was no response, not even a whisper.
A strange chill ran down his spine as he picked up the mysterious book. The title on the cover read "Introduction and Foundations of Mutation Studies." Leonard's breath caught in his throat.
"Teacher, is that you?" he whispered under his breath. But there was no answer, only the heavy silence of the room.
His fingers turned the pages cautiously, the scent of old paper filling the air. As he reached the middle of the book, a piece of white paper fell out from between the pages. Leonard's heart skipped a beat.
He picked it up carefully, unfolding it to reveal only one thing: an address.
13 Falk Street.
Leonard stared at the address, his mind racing. What was the meaning of this? Why now? And why in a book that hadn't been there moments before?
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein