They left Kalis Marry's bookshop, the tense atmosphere still lingering. Rober, Kalis Marry, and the noble gentleman, whom Rober surmised belonged to the upper class, based on his luxurious attire and somewhat arrogant demeanor, all boarded a "Chronos."

This "Chronos" was a personal transportation vehicle, a characteristic product of the steam-powered technology era, popular among the upper class in Edoras. It was a strange combination of the classic beauty of traditional horse-drawn carriages and the rough, powerful nature of mechanical machines. The body was made of steel, painted glossy black, and decorated with intricately carved brass details. Copper steam pipes ran along the body of the vehicle, exposed, showcasing the beauty of technology. Large and small gears, of all sizes, were deliberately installed, serving both as a transmission and as part of the design, spinning and meshing together, creating a steady clicking and rattling sound, like the ticking of a giant clock.

Rober, Kalis, and the noble gentleman sat together in the passenger compartment of the Chronos. The space inside was rather cramped, but it was luxuriously and comfortably furnished. The seats were upholstered in genuine leather, dark brown, soft, and with the characteristic scent of leather. The window curtains were made of thick, red velvet, which could be drawn to block out the sunlight and create a private space.

The control panel of the Chronos, located at the front, was a complex and somewhat confusing combination of steam pressure gauges, brass control valves, steel levers, and buttons of various colors. Only the driver could understand the meaning of all of those things.

When the Chronos started moving, the chugging sound of the steam engine, along with the clicking of the gears, created a noisy, bustling, but also very characteristic sound of the era.

But, this journey was not only filled with those mechanical sounds. The noble gentleman, too worried about the condition of his son who was suffering from the "white dream" constantly mumbled prayers, lamented, and sighed. He repeatedly mentioned the names of the gods, begging them for blessings and to help his son escape from the critical condition.

Rober glanced at Kalis Marry. He noticed that, although she still maintained a polite, social smile on her lips, her eyes had begun to show signs of impatience. Her long, slender, white fingers tapped lightly on her thigh, showing that she was trying to control her discomfort and irritation.

Rober had spent a week working at Kalis Marry's bookshop, and he had had enough time to observe, learn, and "decode" the emotional expressions, habits, and "quirks" of Miss Marry. He realized that, behind the youthful, beautiful, gentle, and somewhat mysterious appearance, Kalis Marry was a strong, decisive woman, with a sharp intellect, and... a bit of a temper. She didn't like weak, whining people, and she especially hated stupid, ignorant people, or those who dared to "teach a fish how to swim."

During the past week, Rober had witnessed Kalis "losing her temper" several times with "troublesome" customers, those who came to the bookstore not to seek knowledge, but only to show off their half-baked knowledge, or to argue about trivial matters without any intention of buying or renting books. He had also heard her complain and grumble about the "boring" "meaningless" and "time-wasting" tasks she had to deal with, as the Headmistress of the Royal Academy, and as a "consultant."

But, before Rober could speak up, Kalis Marry turned to the noble gentleman and said, in a tone that was both gentle and subtly warning, a veiled threat:

"Sir, I understand your worry and impatience. But, I'm afraid that constantly invoking the gods will not bring any positive results."

She paused for a moment, took a sip of tea from the small porcelain cup placed on the folding table, and then continued, with a half-smile, full of hidden meaning:

"The gods you are praying to, sir, if they truly exist, then as far as I know, they usually only bestow plagues, wars, diseases, and rotten disasters, rather than blessings or help for humans. So, are you sure you want to ask for help from such gods? Or, would you like me, as a mage, to summon a few such 'gods' to 'help' you and 'cure' your son?"

Hearing Kalis Marry's words, the noble gentleman turned pale. Cold sweat began to break out on his forehead. He stammered, trying to explain himself:

"No... no... that's not what I meant, Miss Marry. I... I apologize. I'm just... too worried about my son. I didn't mean to offend you, or the gods..."

Rober noticed that Kalis Marry was about to lose all patience, and perhaps she was preparing to "unleash her fury." He quickly spoke up, interrupting the man, and changing the direction of the conversation, to "defuse" the situation for both of them:

"Sir, you can rest assured" Rober said, in a calm and confident tone. "Although I don't know the exact cause of the 'white dream' that your son is suffering from, I'm sure that we will find a solution. There is no disease that has no cure, and no problem that has no solution."

The noble gentleman looked at Rober, his eyes flickering with a glimmer of hope, but still not hiding his worry and doubt.

"You... you really mean that?" He asked, his voice still trembling. "But... but all the doctors, the healers, the best mages of the Royal Family, have all examined my son, and they all said that they had never encountered a case like this... They said they didn't know what to do to save my son..."

"And" he continued, his voice somewhat choked with emotion "I also sought out Miss Marry here, to ask for advice. She examined the situation, and prescribed me a medicine, saying that it might help my son wake up. But... but it didn't work. My son is still lying there, unconscious, unresponsive..."

Kalis Marry sighed "Sir" she said "I explained to you already. The prescription I gave you was only a temporary treatment, based on the limited information you provided me. You only told me that your son 'keeps sleeping and won't wake up,' and didn't provide any other details. With such vague and general information, I could only make a preliminary diagnosis and offer a method to suppress the effects of deep sleep, assuming the cause was related to magic."

She paused for a moment, then continued, with a tone that was somewhat sarcastic and reproachful: "And, sir, I would also like to remind you that I am not a god, with supreme magic, who can cure all diseases. I am just an ordinary person, with a little knowledge of traditional medicine, and a bit of magical ability."

Kalis Marry was about to say something more, perhaps to "reprimand" the noble gentleman for his disrespectful attitude and somewhat offensive words, when Rober quickly spoke up, interrupting:

"Miss Marry" he said "I apologize for interrupting. But, I have a question I would like to ask you."

Kalis Marry turned to Rober, raising an eyebrow, showing surprise, and a bit of confusion. "What do you want to ask?" She asked.

"Just now, during the conversation, you mentioned the term 'rotting disaster'" Rober said. "I... I confess that I don't fully understand this concept. Could you explain it to me?"

Kalis Marry looked at Rober for a moment, then smiled slightly. She realized that Rober was trying to change the direction of the conversation, to prevent her from getting angry with the noble gentleman, and to ease the tense atmosphere in the vehicle.

"You don't know about 'disaster'?" She asked, her tone a bit surprised, and somewhat incredulous. "During the week you've worked at my bookstore, you've shown yourself to be a person with very broad, very erudite knowledge, almost as if you know everything. So, how can you not know about such a basic and important concept?"

Rober blushed slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed by his ignorance. He replied:

"Madam, as you know, I grew up in a small, remote village, on the eastern border of the kingdom. There, we didn't have many opportunities to access information and knowledge from the outside. Our lives were very peaceful and simple. We only knew what was taught in the church and what was written in the old books that we had."

Kalis Marry nodded, showing understanding and sympathy. "I remember" she said. "In your job application, it was stated that you studied at the church library in the village where you grew up. And, you also showed me an identification card, issued by that church. It's not surprising that you don't know about 'disaster'. Places with churches like that are usually very well protected, by magical barriers, or by elite troops, to avoid negative and dangerous influences from the outside."

She paused for a moment, took a sip of tea from the small porcelain cup placed on the folding table, and then began to explain:

"'Disaster,' Rober, is a general term used to refer to anything that can cause negative, serious, and widespread effects on people's lives, on the natural environment, and on the balance of the world. It can be unusual natural phenomena, such as: earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, storms, floods, droughts, or prolonged freezing spells; it can be strange, unexplained, and incurable diseases that spread rapidly in the community; it can be monsters, mutated creatures, dark entities, appearing from dark places, deep forests, mysterious caves, or other dimensions, attacking humans, destroying crops, and causing mass deaths; it can be criminal organizations, gangs, fanatical cults, sowing terror and disrupting social order, through acts of violence, terrorism, or through dark political conspiracies; and, it can also be... supernatural forces, dark entities with purposes that humans cannot understand."

Rober listened attentively, not missing a single word from Kalis Marry. He realized that this world was not as simple, peaceful, and safe as he had thought. It held many dangers, many mysteries, and many things that he had never known.

"And... what about the term 'rotting', ma'am?" He asked, his voice a bit curious, and somewhat worried. "Why do you call it 'rotting disaster'?"

Kalis Marry sighed, reached up, and gently stroked her emerald-green hair. "That's a... rather personal, and somewhat... peculiar issue of mine, Rober" she said. "Whenever I come into contact with a 'disaster', no matter what kind of 'disaster' it is, I smell a foul, horrible, pungent odor, like the smell of decaying corpses, of long-rotted garbage, of the most filthy, dirty things in the world. But, the strange thing is, other people, those around me, don't smell it. They say that there is no unusual smell. Therefore, I myself gave it the name 'rotting disaster'."

She paused for a moment, then continued, with a self-deprecating, somewhat bitter smile: "Perhaps it's a kind of 'curse,' a special kind of 'ability,' or a type of 'supernatural sense of smell' that I accidentally acquired, after an encounter with a particularly serious 'disaster' when I was young. Or, perhaps, I'm just a delusional old woman, obsessed with things that don't exist."

She stopped for a bit and then shrugged "Some people's magic smells of that kind of rot, too. Maybe, they are already used to it already?" Rober hesitated, bringing up the question that he has been wondering since Kalis checked his energy. "Then.. does my magic have that smell, madam?" Kalis shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. "No, Rober. That stench is mostly associated with the magic used by cultists."