Reincarnation of Nikola Tesla in another world-Chapter 9: accident or deliberate

Morning broke quietly, unlike the roaring fire of last night. Pale sunlight filtered weakly through the tavern window, barely lighting Kim's small room. He woke slowly, stretching, and his body felt rested, not tired at all; his mind was clear, as if nothing happened.

He got up, went through his morning routine dressed, he thought about the day: berries to get, marmalade to make, and maybe the library later because information was always useful. He went downstairs, the stairs creaking a little under his weight, and entered the common room which was too quiet for morning. Usually, the morning noise was loud, but now there were just whispers, with people talking low and faces looking tight; something was wrong.

He heard whispers before the words made sense: "Fire..." "...last night..." "...Weary Wagon..." – bits of talk, like radio static. He looked around at the faces, some sad with eyes downcast, others almost excited, their eyes bright, though their voices hushed; it was strange.

He went to the counter where Robin, the maid, was wiping it down fast, a too-bright smile on her face, but her eyes weren't smiling, her movements too fast, betraying her nervousness.

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"Breakfast," Kim said in his normal, even voice.

Robin's smile stretched even wider, too wide, and said, "Of course! Usual bread and broth?" her voice too cheerful, almost cracking as she moved quickly, looking away.

Kim didn't watch Robin, instead listening to the whispers around him.

Near the hearth, two old people – a man with a cane and a woman in a shawl – were talking low. "...lucky," the man rasped quietly, "...lucky the elementals came by, or else they're saying it would have been ... whole town..." He stopped, shaking his head, his eyes wide with fear.

The woman scoffed quietly, "Lucky? Elementals showing up? Don't be stupid, Thomas; _they_ did it. Blue fire like that isn't normal, it's a cover up, more like." Suspicion filled her voice.

At a table, two younger men in work clothes with rough hands, were talking differently, their voices hard. "...good riddance," one muttered, his voice low and angry, "Those guards and the Wagon's rich folks deserved it, bloodsuckers." The other nodded, his eyes cold, "Corrupt to the core; maybe now others will be scared." He sounded almost pleased.

Then another voice, quiet and full of sadness, from an old man alone in a corner. He sighed deeply, "But still... sad," his voice quiet, almost to himself, "Poor Robin's sister... young Elara, just a maid there was caught in it. They..... think it was her... metal brooch, she always wore it, on a... skull fragment..." His voice broke off, leaving the room quiet.

Kim continued watching and listening, his face unchanged. Robin brought his bread and broth, and he nodded once. His mind was already working, putting the pieces together: fire at the Weary Wagon, blue flames, elementals? Dead people, different stories going around – fear, suspicion, and some... satisfaction.

He ate slowly, the broth tasting bland, but his mind was busy. Blue dragon, elementals? _Not real_, he thought, but maybe magic fire? Something weird definitely happened.

News of the "Weary Wagon" fire – small town news, but it spread. A message was sent fast, the town writer writing it quickly and a courier leaving at dawn with the message for Borguenviel, the capital; the paper was sealed.

In Borguenviel, the capital, a big city with walls, the message reached High Councilor Marius, an important man. He read it and frowned, bad news – important people dead in a fire, "accident"? _Impossible._

He needed answers fast and only knew one person in Borguenviel he trusted for this.

High above the city in a tall black tower, Vaqihr, the **Grand Wizard**, worked. Sunlight streamed through windows in his huge library filled with scrolls and books, the air thick with the smell of old paper and inks; golem guards stood at the door, stone giants with glowing eyes.

Vaqihr was in his workshop, full of magic tools and circles on the floor, with a quiet hum swirling. He stood still, hands out, staring at nothing.

Sweat appeared on his face, his breathing hard, magic fighting back as he tried to make a ball of energy, but the light flickered, almost disappearing.

"Master Vaqihr," a calm voice said, and Garrett, his butler, came in with tea on a silver tray with fine cups. "High Councilor Marius wants you urgently in the waiting room."

Vaqihr stopped, the magic vanishing, and sighed, tired but amused. "Marius and his 'urgents'," he said, looking at Garrett with a smile in his eyes,

"Tell him I'm close to making magic with no incantations, tell him the kingdom needs me, maybe he'll care then."

Garrett's face stayed still, no smile in return, "Sir, I believe it is important. The message has the King's seal, and it's about officals caught in fire."

Vaqihr's smile disappeared quickly, his face becoming serious. "Death, you say?" He turned away from his magic, "Okay, let's go see about 'fire' now."

In the waiting room, Marius paced quickly, not his usual calm self, but he smiled when Vaqihr came, a real smile. "Vaqihr! Thanks for coming so fast; unknown problem... we need you."

"Marius, always good to see you, even for a 'problem'," Vaqihr replied, his voice light, but his eyes sharp. "Bersley? Small town; a fire? Drunk guy with a candle? no it cant be! Guards have protection enchantments on their armours"

Marius shook his head, his face grim, and gave the paper to Vaqihr, "Read this. 'Accident' they say, but... weird things, and the people who died... important people."

Vaqihr read, his eyebrows rising, "'Blue fire'?" he murmured, his voice lower. "'Not normal fire'... 'looked alive'... Town writer likes big words," he looked up at Marius, his face serious,

"But 'blue fire'... that's not accidental fire, that's magic fire; someone did it. Who stopped it?"

In the Whisperwood, far south, thick trees let sunlight spot the ground, and a group moved silently – elementals, fire and earth, moving like the forest itself.

Geralt, their leader with stone skin shining in the light, spoke to the others, his voice deep like the earth, "Bersley is secured, problem stopped, but the source... is missing."

Lyra, the fire girl with hair like flames, skipped beside him, her face not happy. "Missing alright! 'Fire was not magic controlled'... _lies_, it was magic; a little bit of magic was left, in the burned stuff."

Geralt nodded, his face hard. "Magic, hidden well, untrained but strong. But what about the thing we look for? The Artifact – did we sense it in Bersley?"

Silas, the earth guy with black stone eyes, shook his head, "No, Leader, Bersley was clean, nothing... _it_," his voice quiet and worried, "Prophecy says 'border place,' in a 'heart of fire' ''connected to the goddes'..... Bersley fits, but..."

Elara, the light elemental with a voice soft like leaves, spoke urgently, "Prophecy also says... 'danger to the Goddess,' Geralt; if Bersley was the 'chaos place'... and we missed the Artifact..."

Geralt stopped, his stone fist clenching, and the ground shook a little. "We did not miss it," his voice firm, "The Goddess's life depends on us. The Prophecy speaks of an artifact... not from this world, or any world we know," he paused, looking far away, "Not alive, not dead... something weird... pure power... trapped in a small space..." He shook his head, his voice heavy, "We keep searching, the next chaos place... the next 'heart of fire'... will show itself; it has to."

Back in Bersley market square, Aldric woke up in the makeshift shelter, the air still smoky. A church nurse, kind but tired, gave him bread. "Eat, child," she said softly, "You were near the Wagon, right? Lucky to be alive." She sighed, "Healers need herbs, flowers, leaves... for the hurt, for the sad. Find some, the temple will pay a penny for each handful, or... find someone else." She walked away to help others.

Aldric sat up, the bread heavy in his hand, his stomach feeling empty and scared. He ate slowly, thinking about last night: blue fire, traumatic death. Go back to the orphanage? Do chores? Forget kim? It sounded... wrong, empty.

No_He had to know, had to find Kim, had to. Herbs, pennies, orphanage... small stuff, not important now; the big thing was Kim.