The best thing you can do right now is just keep pressing forward. If nothing else, you’ll be able to say that you at least tried. You still have Quill-Weave’s letter, so you can at least do that for her. You’re going to give this your all, even if it means finding out your all is not that much. You promise.
You pack the letter safely away in the book and tuck the book back into your bag.
Do we really need to go through this again?
Frankly, you’d love to know how to do magic stuff. You’ve never told this to anyone, but you actually think wizards are about the coolest thing ever. It’s not just the sparkles and fireballs, it’s that whole idea of making something happen with their mind. They want something to happen and it just does. That never happens for you, ever. It’s like the more you want something, the less likely it is to happen.
And sometimes that makes you really sad.
This receipt is incredibly silly.
You take it along anyway. Maybe you’ll be able to get a tax rebate or something. I mean, if you ever have an income.
You keep telling yourself that, but deep down you know it’s not true. You thought you’d have a chance to earn money in the last town, and look how that turned out: you just kept screwing up. Today looks like it’s headed along that same path.
Anyway, nobody wants your help. You’re not good at anything – at least anything people care about. You try not to think about it too hard, but you know Quill-Weave just gave you this job out of pity.
God you sound mopey. Time to shut off the Feelings Tap and focus on the task at hand. You’re still pretty thirsty and a ways from Kvatch, so it’d be nice if you could find a well or something. Or a discarded bottle of booze. That would be really nice too.
Hell, or you could find a pile of discarded money. That would solve problems.
There’s some stuff over there, a little ways off the road.