While Ermand was watering a patch of pale pink funnel-shaped flowers with golden stamens, known as the Bell-o-gold flowers, he heard some muttering sounds that seemed to belong to two young men. The voices felt familiar to him yet it was somewhat undistinguishable. 

"This should definitely surprise him," one of the boyish voices spoke.

"I believe Jason must be there," the other boy commented.

"So what. He's always a nagging fellow," the former boy replied. 

Although Jason had never been nice to him and the fact that he's a nagging fellow was true, the comment that had escaped from someone outside their family had made him more than a little infuriated. 

I wonder who this is.

Ermand placed the pitcher that was in his hand on the ground and slowly opened the wooden door in front of him.

"Howdy Ermand!" A boy who seemed to be in his early twenties waved a hand at Ermand. 

"Hey, Collon! Fernando!" 

Ermand smiled at the two boys. Collon  had black curly hair while the other seemed to have his hair shaved. Both were in their typical Tawarnian attire that reflected the common people ; loose ivory-coloured shirts with long brown sack-seeming blazers and loose khaki pants. For Fernando, he wore a green shirt that has lost it's colour such that it seems it's almost white in colour at the first glance.

"Well, I suppose you're going to stay there grinning for the rest of this day until we hit your back with our elbows and go see Jack?" Collon raised a brow.

"Please feel welcomed and have a humorful day," Ermand bowed, pretending to take off a hat from his head which evidently wasn't there at all.

Fernando winked at him while Collon gave a light slap on Ermand's back. He observed the two boys knocking on the door and Jason opening after a few minutes had passed.

Jack and Jason might've been arguing on who will get the door back in there. Guess Jason had to give in again.

Ermand chuckled and continued his chore. He began thinking about the few weeks he has left. College will open and he will be busy. And then, a thought hit him.

How will they ever open college if there's a war happening in Tawarn?

"Why didn't I think about this before?" Ermand sighed, shaking his head.

But I haven't received any knocketer from Agledon… Maybe I should contact my friends.

He dashed behind the boys. 

"Wait for me."

Jason rolled his eyes and turned his back at him. "Remember to close the door, wretch."

"Sure, I will do it." 

Whatever Jason may call him, he was his brother after all and not just that he knows that somewhere deep, deep inside Jason...

He cares…

After Jack and the boys had their breakfast, they set out to the city while Jason was busy with his studies and Mrs. Chisel was busy gardening, Ermand decided to write a Knocketer to his best friends. A Knocketer is a letter sent through a Knockman who usually delivers the letter just in the time one would like the letter to reach the recipient.

"I guess I have enough Erats for it," he told himself before taking a neat sheet of paper. He paused before taking the Kirk's writer, the pen to which it has a bulb attached at the end which can be refilled with ink. He made a rough idea of what he'd write to his friends. 

"Alright!"

Timothy James Aurelius (III) Chestnut

Narrowbroad, 15

Glaze block

Sylavdor province

New Tawarn

24th day, Voltaire's month, 109th year of Epigal

Dear Tim, 

I hope you are doing well. It's not been more than a week since I last wrote a knocketer to you and the same from you, but since time demands, I have to put this on in a piece of paper. First off, I'm not quite sure if we're going to meet in person. Secondly, have you heard about the war? I hope you might have known it already better than anyone in the country. So maybe you could tell me some of the plans so that we could prepare for it before it gets late. 

Your's, Erm.

Ermand Chisel

Uphill block, 21

Cannor province

Tawarn

Ermand let out a heavy sigh before folding the paper in half. He went for a tiny wooden stand that had a dull grey stone hoisted on top. He blew on the grey stone and waited for a few minutes, tapping his foot on the floor. 

Then, out of thin air, something miniscule but definitive has emerged into the size of a man. He walked a few steps closer toward Ermand. He had a big leather satchel along his side and a book with a seal placed on it. Like any usual Knockman, he was in his Knockman uniform ; grey shirt and shorts with a belt and a grey hat with the symbol of The Tawarnian Post, TP.

"Good day," he said in a monotonous tone. One should not blame for his greeting being so boring because that's literally what he does more than a thousand times a day. Repeating the same thing over and over again with an equal enthusiasm won't get anywhere for the poor man. He has eventually gotten bored with his job.

"Good day, sir. I have this Knocketer for New Tawarn," Ermand handed him the sheet.

"New Tawarn?" The Knockman's eyebrows lifted a little bit.

"What's wrong?" Ermand raised a brow.

"I'm afraid I cannot deliver this message since it has been prohibited to send any unofficial Knocketer to New Tawarn at this point of time until the Senate allows it. Not just New Tawarn but many other countries. If you have any other Knocketers to be sent within the country, I will send them as soon as possible."

It took a little while for the message to sink in Ermand's mind.

"Is it because of the war?"

"It's most likely to be although it's just a presumption."

"Oh, thank you but I have no other Knocketers."

"Alright, then." The Knockman nodded and disappeared just as he came.

There's a lot of things happening in here. 

Without sparing a minute, Ermand climbed down the stairs and scurried into the small living room. He noticed his mother was busy packing things.

"Mum, what are you doing?"

"Just in case, dear. If we have to migrate or something. I don't want my children or husband to be a prisoner of war. I am looking for a peaceful life," she said, folding a few clothes.

"I… I just tried to send Timothy a Knocketer but the Knockman told me--"

"No Knocketers, Hymphons, or anything to any country nor from any country," she finished for him.

"What in the world is happening?"

"Do not panic, we've got things planned Ernie and you'd not miss your classes. There's a special delivery from Agledon. I received it this morning. I thought of telling you once you're done with the chores."

She pointed at the Marene's ball that rested on top of one of the old couches Great man Chestnut has provided them. 

Ermand remembers the same old Marene's ball he received back when it was only a few days after his eighteenth birthday. Spellcasters are never amazed by magic because their lives are bound with the wonders of magic everyday except the most exceptional magic only those belonging to the top high clan such as the Qorders could perform, but that experience was totally new to Ermand and he would undoubtedly call it a magical moment in his life. That was the day when he was invited to the best Magic University for Spellcasters in all of the magical world of Iyerth, Agledon Magic University for Spellcasters. Although his brother had the chance to study there, he, a young boy with no former magic schooling could not possibly have the privilege to even receive a Marene's ball until he realized the true reason behind. 

The Marene's ball was Agledon's special way of sending important and private messages. It was a bright, gleaming ball, about the size of a normal tennis ball. It was coated bronze on the outside with gaps left between, the remark of the floral designs on it that added a special adornment to the orbic structure. Through the little gaps, blue-green light glimmered. 

The light that flashed through the gaps intensified and he remembered every part of it. He was glad it reminded him of a happy time but he was equally worried. What if it was bad news? What if he was expelled because of the war coming up? Or maybe worse, what if he was expelled from the university because others came to know he was an Odistte?

After all he was a Chisel, a lower middle clan member and even though the power to decide lies in the noble professor, Zaugustus Lewcent, the ultimate power is up to the government. The perfect government for the haves and the spiteful government for the have-nots.

**************

Dear friends out there in the different world, I'm back! And I'll try to keep up with the promise that this 'I'm back!' stuff is totally not that usual 'I'm-back-but-will-go- out-again-and-will-be-back-but after-a-couple-of -weeks-or-twice the-given-period'.

Lately, inspiration wasn't hitting me hard enough to prompt me to write anything so I've been putting off the idea to update. However, here I am with yet another good-enough chapter that I'll hope you love. Didn't you?

Regards,

Me.