Heron could feel his soul leaving his body. Metaphorically, mentally, and almost physically.

  It was too late—it had been impossible for him to stop Lucifer from having thoughts or filtering its monologue. Everyone definitely heard what Lucifer had just said—or rather, thought.

  While Heron had no idea how dragons worked or whether every single one of their thoughts was converted into a voice in everyone’s head, one thing was clear: Lucifer just got caught speaking poorly of a man they had just met.

  Indeed, I do have a reproductive system, but that is not of concern right now.

  Okay, nobody needed to know that but at least it made Desmonte howl louder and earned a snort from Eugen.

  This entire situation was a terrible one to be in, and Heron could only grin sheepishly. Surrounded by the core group who had worn vegetable masks and had danced like lunatics for a ceremonial warfare ritual, he stood in the middle of the wooden living room where James, Desmonte, Eugen, and Herschel were still encircled around him.

  Larry was standing off to the side of the room, appearing sullen and somewhat sulking. Zerif paid no mind to the outburst and was still reading his book, ‘The History of Magical Essence’.

  All while Maxwell was glaring with the outrage of a forest fire from the moment when everyone in the room heard Lucifer in their heads while calling Maxwell an ‘unpleasant fellow’ which had been a response to Heron’s private thoughts of giving Maxwell the title of ‘the angry little man’.

  Heron had never been a troublemaker and did not want to stir up anything, least of all being the new farmer guy who picked a fight with the angriest, littlest, beefiest man he’d seen in his life.

  Maybe he was giving Maxwell a hard time, the guy wasn’t that little.

  The younger man had burst into the room yelling about his seeds and his face had lit up redder than a tomato—evidently outraged. He kind of reminded Heron of his old boss when he worked at the shady small company, except his boss had been older and balder and maybe uglier.

  Not a great look for Maxwell and certainly not a great start to his reputation with Heron.

  In Heron's head, Maxwell’s current status? Angry and beefy.

  “New guy.” The kind-of-not-really-little, angry beefy guy echoed. His attention had been caught on Lucifer and Desmonte as he had definitely heard Lucifer’s voice in his head and Desmonte calling out the situation but only to have been distracted by Heron’s greeting.

  Gritting his teeth, Maxwell seemed to force a smile on his face before responding, “Like James said, I’m Maxwell.” A breath. “Now, Who. Took. My. Seeds?” A vein threatened to pop on his forehead as Maxwell continued to smile, looking around in a circle—specifically staring down Desmonte.

  Desmonte shook his head viciously while raising both his hands to show that he was unarmed. “Wasn’t me bud.”

  “Don’t call me bud.”

  “Alright pal.”

  This only earned another glare from Maxwell before James walked over, slinging an arm around the angry little man’s shoulders.

  “Now there, Maxwell. I’m sure your seeds are fine. Might’ve misplaced them or something—“

  “I didn’t misplace them.” Maxwell shrugged James off, his jaw clenching. “I know exactly where I left them. In a purple pouch, on my wooden dresser. And now they’re gone.”

  “Maybe you already planted them.” Eugen spoke up, leaning against the backside of the couch.

  “I don’t think so.” Maxwell stared down at him, eyeing him suspiciously.

  They’re just seeds, it seemed like a whole fuss over nothing. Then again, Heron recalled the story that Serafina had told him about the man who had his head chopped off for stealing seeds. Perhaps seeds were more valuable than he thought?

  They're not just any seeds, it seems. Lucifer wriggled in Heron’s arms.

  “So the rabbit familiar does have a pair and a smart mouth.” Desmonte mused, crossing his arms.

  Oh nonsense, I was just reading Maxwell’s min—

  Heron conked Lucifer over the head, leaving the rabbit-dragon to make a squeaky sound.

  Didn’t Serafina warn them not to let anyone discover that Lucifer was a dragon and could read minds?

  It felt safe to assume that dragons could normally shapeshift given that Lucifer was currently a rabbit and Serafina had shrunk into a street-friendly sized dragon. If this world was anything like the RPGs he was used to, it made sense that dragons would have a high magical essence compatibility given the fantastical setting they were in.

  Which meant that it was probably in their best interest to keep Lucifer’s identity a secret, lest they were willing to turn Sector Nine into a mob of torches and pitchforks. Regular folks never seemed to take kindly to dragons in the media.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Either aggression was to be expected, or it was also possible that dragons were a regular occurrence in the kingdom of Morningstar since no one had batted an eye when Serafina was walking around. Then again, she was clearly accompanying Alice who was clearly a knight of the city.

  Either way, Heron didn’t want to gamble whether or not they would be greeted by pitchforks or welcomed with a tea party.

  “What my rabbit-familiar was suggesting, was that it was reading into what Maxwell was saying. Those seeds do sound important if he’s asking who stole them.” Heron quickly corrected, his eyes flicking from person-to-person and observing their expressions.

  Yes, that was totally what I was saying. Lucifer nodded enthusiastically while rubbing its paws over the top of its head.

  Maybe Heron should’ve asked Serafina to give Lucifer a tutorial on private DMs so that his little rabbit-dragon friend wouldn’t go blabbing its small fat mouth—

  “I’m certain no one here would steal those seeds, right guys?” James glanced around the room, still smiling and cheerful as ever.

  “Speak for yourself.” Desmonte snorted before clearing his throat, “I mean, yeah! No one would steal seeds out of Maxwell’s room off his dresser.”

  This only made Maxwell’s eyes narrow, as if they could get narrower. “Desmonte—I swear on Yel—if you took my seeds, there will be hellfire to pay.”

  Again, Desmonte raised his hands as if to surrender. “Okay, geez. I promise, it wasn’t me.” A pause. “And if it was, you wouldn’t hear it from me.”

  This only made half the room groan before Eugen sighed. “We’ll keep an eye out for that pouch, alright? They’re just seeds—“

  “They’re not just seeds.” Maxwell hissed, stepping forward and sizing up Eugen. “You know they’ve been blessed.”

  They’re what now? Blessed seeds? The last time Heron heard about something being blessed was Judge Julie and she was a twelve year-old with over thirty years of courthouse experience—

  “Okay, cool yeah, we don’t really care about your fancy seeds.” Desmonte muttered under his breath.

  “What did you say!?”

  “Hey, calm down man. It’s not a big deal—“

  “That’s enough.” Herschel’s deep and calm voice boomed in the room which forced Maxwell and Desmonte to turn their heads. “If someone did take them, it’ll come to light sooner or later. Pointing fingers is a waste of time. Now, it’s been a long day in the sun.”

  Herschel turned towards Eugen and Larry, “Ain’t it y’alls turn on kitchen duty tonight? Best be getting started, we all work Shifts A and B when the heat is at its lowest during the day, and I do not want to eat right before lights out.”

  “Y-Yes, Herschel.” Larry gulped, stammering as he padded away with a slouched gloominess followed by Eugen who gave the crowd one last look before the pair of them disappeared through one of the wooden doors in the living room.

  Heron watched the door click shut after them, then turned his attention back to the remaining members in the group. From the corner of his eye, Maxwell opened his mouth to say something more before James clapped his hands together—once and final.

  “Now that’s that! Normally, we have orientation in the morning, and Charles doesn’t usually have newcomers arrive after a full-day shift. Ya know, in case it's a bit overwhelming.” James chuckled, adjusting the cabbage mask that sat on his head. “Why don’t I show you to your room? Is that all you got on you? No luggage or anything?”

  James gestured at Heron from head-to-toe. Heron glanced down—yup, he was kind of looking scraggily with his worn down office clothes, a white rabbit in his arms, and since he hadn't showered in who knows how long.

  “Uh yeah, that’s all I got.” He responded sheepishly before cocking his head to one side. “Did Charles ring you or something? How do you know I’m the new farmer and not just some deviant who wandered in.”

  “Because you appeared in their summoning circle. That’s where the magical essence pathway is linked.”

  Heron whipped his head, finding Zerif flipping a page of his book.

  “The only way you could’ve appeared out of nowhere is if you had a teleportation crystal that was linked to Sector Nine’s lodgehouse. The only way to obtain one is through the guildmaster. It’s not like we hand those out like candy.” Zerif said plainly, his eyes remaining glued to his reading.

  “We were also due for a new farmer soon anyway,” James shrugged as he clapped his hand on Heron’s shoulder. “That last room’s been vacant for a while now.”

  “The last room?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be at max capacity now that you’ve joined us. There’s a bunch of sectors that run under the Farmer’s Guild, and each is structured like this place. One main lodgehouse with eight plantations surrounding it. Rooms Two through Nine are the living quarters and Lots Two through Nine are the plots. You’ll get Room Nine with Lot Nine.” James grinned, steering Heron by the shoulders towards another one of the wooden doors.

  “Wait, all of the farmers live here?” Heron whipped his head towards James, still holding onto Lucifer who’d been quiet since the head bonking.

  The wooden door clicked behind them as they entered a long, wooden hallway. From the small windows that were spaced evenly and neatly, Heron could see the orange sky and a view of the greenery. As they walked, passing several small windows, the view reminded Heron of the countryside—nothing but trees, farmland, and an invisible setting sun. To say the least, this place was serene.

  “Most of us live here full-time. Beats having to commute in and out of the city. Typically, the bachelors end up staying at the lodge—its got everything we need after all. Food, water, a warm place to sleep. The ones who do go back to the city either have their own place or a wife and kids.” James led the way through the hall, opening another door to another hallway.

  Heron nodded, following James as they passed several doors—each having a room number assigned to them. “Alright… how does this all work? Being a farmer working for the Farmer’s Guild?”

  James halted, stopping in front of the door with a sign above that read, ‘Room Nine’. Turning to Heron, he cocked his head to one side. “Didn’t Charles tell you? Us farmers show you what to do, but he normally runs the logistics such as pay, schedule, and what-have-you.”

  “I may have accidentally used the teleportation crystal before Charles was done explaining.” Heron let out a nervous chuckle as Lucifer sneezed.

  “That explains why you showed up now instead of the morning.” James laughed, opening the door for them. “I reckon Charles might have scooted off his shift since we just crossed over into Shift C. Best you give him a visit tomorrow to get the details. We can do orientation tomorrow before Shift B starts. Until then, why don’t ya kick back and relax some?”

  “Sure, thanks for the welcome, James.” Heron gave him a friendly smile, turning towards James.

  “No problem. Feel free to explore this evening and tonight.” James patted Heron on the back, grinning as he withdrew. “Dinner should be ready in the next hour. The communal bell should go off in a bit. Or you’ll smell the smoke, it's Larry in the kitchen tonight.” He finished, chuckling.

  “Alright, I’ll leave ya to it. See you later, Heron.” James gave him a wave before turning and heading back the way he came.

  With a small wave at the retreating figure, Heron glanced down at Lucifer.

  “Home sweet home, huh? Let’s try to get in contact with Serafina. We’re gonna need to get you to figure out how to private DMs.”

  That might be your best plan yet, human.