The magical journey of a countryside boy

William turns to see a stocky, short man staring back at him with a deeply annoyed expression. A sudden prickle of familiarity hits him—William gets the distinct feeling he has met this man before, though he can’t quite put a finger on where.

​“Don’t dawdle, kid. Get inside,” the man says, scratching his rough beard and looking even more irritated than before.

​“I am not—” William tries to reply, but the man cuts him off instantly.

​“I swear, the people they keep sending me are getting younger and dumber by the day.” The man turns on his heel and starts walking toward the back of the shop. “Follow me, you dimwit.”

​William hurries after him, eager to clear up the misunderstanding. “Excuse me, let me explain. I am—”

​“Don’t think just because you showed up, you’ve got the job,” the man interrupts again, waving a dismissive hand. “Six people came before you today, and they were all rejected by her.”

​“Well, I am not... wait, who rejected them?” William asks, but before he can finish the thought, something warm and wet touches his left hand.

​On pure reflex, William jumps to the side, nearly losing his footing on the floor. He spins around, his eyes widening as he exclaims, “Betty!”

​“Yes, Betty,” the man says, turning around abruptly. Then, his face freezes. He blinks, staring at the beast currently nuzzling William’s fingers. His irritated voice spikes in pure shock. “Wait... how do you know Betty? And how does Betty know you?”

​“You’re the man I met in the stables three years ago,” William replies, a casual, recollecting smile on his face. “You were bragging about her back then, too.”

​The man looks instantly awkward, clearing his throat as he fumbles for a proper reply. “Well... I talk about Betty all the time,” he mutters, defensively crossing his arms. He pauses, his eyes widening slightly as his own words register in his mind. He quickly coughs, looking away. “I mean—not all the time. Obviously. I have a business to run.”

​William offers a slight nod, simply recalling the memory as he expected. “We were staying at the cheap inn near the gates. You were complaining about reaching the city too late to get into the better inns because they were already full, so you had to keep Betty in the stable along with the regular mules.”

“I remember it now!” the man says, snapping his fingers as the realization hits him. “You were the kid gawking at my Betty, and she let you touch her back then, too.” He steps back, looking William up and down. “You’ve changed a lot since then. You were a lot shorter and skinnier.”

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​William offers an embarrassed smile. “I grew up a bit over the last three years.”

​“Well, that settles it then. You can have the job,” the man says, looking immensely relieved.

​“I’m not actually here for the job,” William replies softly.

​“What? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” the man asks, his face twisting into pure surprise.

​“You never gave me the chance,” William says, gesturing with his hands. “You kept interrupting me the entire time.”

​“Then what on earth were you doing standing right in front of my shop?” the man demands, leaning in closer.

​“I was just looking for a food cart to grab something to eat—”

​Right on cue, a loud, perfectly timed rumble echoes from William’s stomach. The sudden noise brings a fresh wave of embarrassment to both of their faces.

​The man quickly turns around to hide his expression, coughing awkwardly. “You... get inside. Let me get you something to eat.” He waves William forward and walks into the shop through the back door.

​William hesitates, staring at the open doorway. ‘Should I really enter his shop? I don’t even know him, and we only just met’.

​His pragmatic thoughts are cut short when Betty gives him a firm, gentle nudge from behind, ushering him forward.

​William sighs, looking at the creature. ‘Well, if Betty says it’s fine, it must be okay’.

As William steps into the shop, a sharp, pungent wave of dried herbs hits him right in the face. He looks around, taking in the chaotic environment. Dozens of glass jars and tightly tied bundles of both fresh and dried flora are messily arranged across every available surface.

​William wanders closer to the shelves, curiously examining the contents, until the man suddenly interrupts his focus. “Have a seat, lad.”

​William startles slightly, pulling his hand back. “I-I wasn’t doing anything.”

​The man lets out a hearty laugh. “I know, I know. So, what got you so interested?”

​“I was just looking at these jars,” William admits, glancing around the cluttered room. “Do you sell herbs?”

​“I am an apothecary, lad. I brew medicines from all of this and sell them,” the man says, casting a fond look toward his messy shelves. He steps over to a small table and sets a steaming bowl down with a click. “Come on, sit. Have something to eat.”

​William walks slowly toward the table, his eyes still darting to the strange plants lining the walls. He sits down and looks into the bowl, finding a rich, thick soup packed with fresh vegetables and chunks of tender meat—a massive upgrade from the rock-hard bread at the gates.

​He looks up at the apothecary gratefully. “Thanks...” William pauses, shifting awkwardly in his chair. “I realized I still don’t know your name. I’m William, by the way.”

​“I am Trojjan,” the man says, laughing warmly at the boy’s polite manners.