Aston gave a curt nod.
Around the shop, Rufus’ spirit beasts were already tending to the stock. The Bronze Stripe Weasel, a small creature with sleek brown fur with a singular stripe running through its back, was scurrying across the floor, dragging potion crates toward the shelves. On the upper racks, a Feathered Moth, with its iridescent wings shimmering under the lantern light, hovered as it placed neatly wrapped scrolls into position.
Near the counter, a Stone Tusk Badger, a sturdy broad-bodied beast with gray fur and a pair of short, curved tusks protruding from its snout, was nudging heavy sacks of alchemical ingredients into place. Despite its compact size, the creature moved the sacks with ease, its short claws scraping lightly against the wooden floor as it worked.
“Watch your step,” Rufus grunted. “If you trip over the weasel again you’re paying for anything you break.”
Aston smirked slightly, stepping past the creature with care. “Yeah, yeah.”
As he set to work, arranging the neatly labeled potions, he felt the weight of Rufus’ gaze still on him.
“...Look, kid. You know I ain’t the soft type… but if you ever need a place to land, the shop’s here. Just don’t make me regret keeping you on.”
Aston blinked, momentarily stunned by the uncharacteristic kindness. With warmth spreading in his chest, he nodded. “Thanks, boss.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get mushy on me. Now hurry up before I change my mind.”
With that, Aston focused on his task, slipping into the rhythm of work as the shop bustled around him.
As Aston reached for another row of potion bottles, Rufus let out a sharp sigh. “And what’s with the cat?”
Aston glanced at Gray, who was lazily draped over his shoulder.
Rufus crossed his arms. “I run a shop, not a pet shelter. Put it aside before it knocks something over.”
Reluctantly, Aston lifted Gray and placed him on the counter. The feline let out a small, disgruntled meow before curling up, seemingly unbothered.
Just then, the chime of the shop’s entrance rang as a pair of customers walked in. A man and a boy, the latter no older than twelve, stepped inside the shop. The boy’s eyes wandered excitedly over the shelves, taking in the rows of elixirs, charms, and neatly stacked books.
The father, a well-dressed man with sharp features, ran a hand through his son’s hair. “Do not touch anything yet. We’ll pick out what you need together.”
Aston observed them quietly as they moved through the aisles. Judging by their clothes, they weren’t from the lower districts.
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As they browsed, the father spoke in a low, but clear voice. “The representatives from Dawn Crest Academy will be arriving in Shale City next week. They’ll be conducting the evaluations and entrance exams at the central plaza. Make sure you’re prepared.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Really, I thought we had to travel to another city for that!”
The father nodded. “Normally, yes. But this year, the academy decided to expand its reach. They’ll be selecting promising candidates directly from smaller cities. This is your chance.”
Aston’s fingers tightened around the bottle in his hands as he overheard the duo’s dialogue.
Dawn Crest Academy. A prestigious institution far above anything Shale City has to offer.
Aston hesitated for a moment before silently directing a thought to Nova.
“Nova, does Dawn Crest Academy accept students with red potential?”
[Affirmative. Dawn Crest Academy maintains a scouting department responsible for identifying and recruiting promising individuals. Those with red potential are eligible for enrollment, provided they pass the evaluations.]
Aston’s grip on the potion bottle loosened slightly. So it wasn’t impossible.
“But what about clear potential?”
[No recorded instances of clear potential being accepted. The academy’s criteria prioritize combat or support aptitude, both of which are directly linked to a candidate’s measured potential.]
Aston sighed. Clearly, those with clear potentials are snubbed by society.
He returned his focus to stocking the shelves. The shop carried a variety of goods, from potions and scrolls to practical tools used by adventurers and tradesmen. As he moved, the shop’s spirit beasts continued their tasks.
The Bronze Stripe Weasel darted between crates, the Feathered Moth flitted between shelves overhead. Meanwhile, a Sharp Bristle Armadillo, a stocky creature covered in tough, overlapping plates, was pushing heavier supply boxes toward the storage room with surprising ease.
Gray, while on the counter, flicked his tail as he lazily watched the activity around him. His ears twitched each time the weasel scurried past, but he made no move to pounce.
After some time, the duo approached the counter with a small selection of items, including tonic vials, a few scrolls, and a set of basic training gloves.
Rufus tallied the total, exchanging brief words with the father before handing over their purchases. The man gave a nod of gratitude before placing a firm hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Remember what I said. We’ll train in the mornings until the exam.”
The boy nodded eagerly, as he clutched the newly purchased items. With a final glance around the store, the two departed, the shop bell chiming softly as the door swung behind them.
Aston exhaled quietly. The conversation still lingered in his mind as he resumed work, restocking shelves and sweeping the floor while Rufus handled the last few customers. As the sun dipped down the horizon, fewer people came into the shop. The spirit beasts gradually finished their duties.
Eventually, Rufus stretched his arm. “That’s enough for today. We’re closing up,” he said, turning to Aston.
Aston nodded and set aside the broom he was holding.
Rufus rubbed the back of his neck before adding, “Tomorrow and the day after are the weekend. The shop will be closed as usual.”
Aston blinked. “Got it, boss.”
Rufus waved him off. “Go on, get out of here.”
With that, Aston grabbed Gray and stepped outside. As he walked home, his mind drifted back to Dawn Crest Academy.
This is my chance!
