Every Friday Sidian made his way to his shop, nodding to his employees if they had earned it that week, counting out the money and storing it in the safe, taking the weeks inventory. Most managers, or even owners of any business’s had a person who did all that for them. But Sidian was not like most, he always held a sense of mystery and power, the only two things he really ever wanted to be showing. He trusted no one on this island, the only purpose he had there was his job, of course the source of money flow he had going was not at all how he expected it to be when he first arrived, or even when he accepted the invitation. It had been in a fancy envelope, drenched in fragrance and the energy of another witch, at the time Sidian hadn’t thought much of it, thinking that perhaps it had been a secretary of some sort-- but now that he had gotten closer to the source he knew that had not been the case. Still, it didn’t matter, is books matched up and the employees for the day had long since sent back to their cells or owners.
The Witch was sitting comfortably in the back room where his prized plants were, the ones he’d had since he was little, his mothers plants. Newspaper in hand while a hot pot of tea sat next to him on the small table he had next to the station where all his potions and herbs were worked on. The place served as a ‘lab’ away from home, it was also a place he made, the plants reacting to him as if they only came alive when he was around. That was very much the truth, his signature in magic was what made the vines grow over to him as he sipped at his tea, the elegant plants sliding around his arms as if it were an affectionate pet.
A siren, not the kind that occupied the island, but the ones used to alarm to hurricanes and other tragic calamities of the sea, the sound broke him from his thoughts and concentration on the century old newspaper. His dark gaze flicked up and he glanced up as if he could see past the plants and shrubbery that blocked his view to the outside street. Then he knew, in a flash of magic connection, one with the head of his manor, and Sidian knew why there was an annoying alarm surging out a warning. With a sigh the Witch moved to placed his tea down, the plant retreating back from being wrapped around his arm. With a fluid motion Sidian stood, straightened his jacket and moved from the back room, shutting and locking the door before he moved further into the shop, disappearing into the forest of plants until he came out on the other side of the shops front door.
Dark eyes scanned the street before it made a turn towards the docks which his shop was close to, if any slaves actually made it this far they could be stopped by him. Just as the thought swept through his mind the sound of feet coming down the street drew his attention back. From this distance he couldn’t tell if it was a slave or not, so he shifted as he locked the door and moved away from the shop-- pocketing his keys before he narrowed his gaze, going a little was out in the street before he was in the middle. A smirk played at his lips, oh how he hoped it was a slave, already the plant he had swept away with him was growing, curling around his arm before it stretched across behind his back to lace around the other then moved on to his torso. This was a perfect start of the weekend.