Chương 15: Crowded Soul

Anadis watched the blacksmith's back as he followed him through the market. At least, he assumed the man was a blacksmith, judging from the heavy leather apron worn over his tunic, the sturdy boots, and the many tools hanging from the belt at his waist. Although the man had intervened on his behalf, Anadis couldn't refrain from feeling hesitant. He clenched the shard in his fist. After what had happened with the last merchant, he had to be cautious.

I know the old lady said to get nine Argen, but I'm making sure I get at least one Solan coin from this man. Yeah, no less than that. Still, the man had defended him. The least he could do was follow.

"By the way," the man said, extending a hand.

"I'm Roger." Anadis hesitated for a moment before shaking it.

"Anadis Kalonis." Neither of them said anything else after that. The walk to the man's stall was a fair distance. His shop was tucked away in a quieter, almost deserted part of the market. It was a modest, somewhat rugged stall, exactly what one would expect from a blacksmith's place where weapons were crafted. A few blades and other weapons decorated the walls, hanging neatly on display.

"So," the blacksmith, Roger, said after lifting the counter flap and stepping behind it.

"Can I see that shard?" Reflexively, Anadis pulled the shard closer to his chest, his brows furrowing. Roger blinked twice, then let out a small breath through his nose.

"I'm sorry. I suppose it makes sense that you'd be a bit apprehensive after what happened with that last man." He leaned forward slightly and wagged a finger.

"I'm not like him. You have nothing to worry about." Still, Anadis hesitated.

"Why would you want to buy an unpurified Grullshard?" He glanced around the shop.

"You're a blacksmith, not an Attuner."

"Oh, I know. Been one for more than a decade now," Roger laughed, an honest, calming sound.

"Well, I could get the shard purified and then have an Attuner etch runes onto a couple of my weapons." He scratched his disheveled beard.

"Trust me, I can benefit from it." Then a silhouette stepped out from behind the shop's backroom curtains.

"Dad, you're back!" a boy cried out, hands thrown up.

"Come here, Haris, my boy," Roger exclaimed, picking the boy up and spinning him around. The child looked to be around six or seven years old, with blond streaks running through his hair, just like his father's. However, while the man's hair was long and braided, the boy's was short. The boy, Haris, stared at Anadis, narrowing his eyes.

"Look at his eyes!" he said, pointing.

"Haris, what did I say about pointing at people?" the man scolded.

"That… I shouldn't," the little boy said meekly, his lip corners slumping.

"Indeed. So apologize to him." His voice turned stern, the same tone Anadis's own father used to use when scolding him, and actually still did, for that matter.

"But they're so impressive," Haris said honestly.

"Is he a Blessen?"

"Ho ho," Hel's smirk was audible.

"I'm starting to like this kid."

"Yes, I'm a Blessen," Anadis replied, offering a quick smile.

"My eyes used to be grey before I became one." He activated Soul Sight for just a second and marveled at the boy's reaction. The little boy's eyes widened as Anadis's glowing eyes reflected in them.

"Wow, he's just like my sister, Dad!" the boy said eagerly.

"He has powers just like she does!" Anadis raised an eyebrow. Does he have a Blessen sister?

"Now, now, go back inside," Roger said.

"I have to talk about some important stuff with him." The boy puckered his lips, but he obediently slipped behind the curtains again.

"Back to business," the man said, rubbing his hands together as he looked at Anadis.

"So, do you have a price in mind?"

"I do…" Anadis replied, determined to get his money's worth. What he held in his hand had nearly cost him his life, and it had actually cost another.

"But I'd like to hear your offer first."

"How about…" The blacksmith tapped his chin repeatedly while looking upward.

"One Solan gold coin with two Argen silver?"

"What?!" Anadis's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"Yeah, that sounds fair to me," Roger said with a smile, as if that wasn't an outrageous amount.

"I don't think I can offer more."

"You do know this is an unpurified shard, right?" Anadis asked. The man nodded.

"I'm no mercantile genius, but even I know they don't go for that much." Roger pondered for a second.

"You're right. One would usually go for around eight Argen to one Solan, perhaps a little more if the deal goes your way."

"Exactly!" Anadis said.

"Then why are you offering me so much?" The blacksmith smiled faintly.

"Because I owe your father a debt."

"My father?" Anadis asked, feeling a bit uncertain. He already had a feeling this man wasn't trying to scam him, especially after stepping in earlier to save him from the guards. If anything, Anadis was the one getting the better end of the deal. But this… A debt to his father?

"Long story short," Roger said, "your father saved my life, and a friend's years ago. I never got the chance to repay him. This won't come close to repaying it, of course." He exhaled lightly.

"But it might ease the guilt a little." The revelation surprised Anadis, though it shouldn't have. Still, hearing something like that from a stranger made it feel distinct, as though the image he'd always had of his father was somehow being confirmed. That was the kind of man his father was: quietly heroic, and never one to boast of it, which was fine. Anadis could do the boasting for him. This was why Anadis admired him. Father was strong yet humble; that was also why he wanted to follow in the man's footsteps.

He wanted to attend Stoneward Academy, the same Blessen academy his father had once attended… he wanted to become someone who could stand between the weak and those who would harm them.

"I see," Anadis said softly, unable to suppress the proud grin spreading across his lips.

"Still, it was my father who helped you, not me. I wouldn't feel right taking so much money from you."

"Please," Roger insisted, raising a hand.

"Allow me to do this. Besides, I won't lose money on this trade. Once it's purified, I can sell it for upwards of three Solan coins."

"Three Solan?!" Anadis's eyes widened. That was enough for a person to live comfortably for a while if spent wisely on only necessities. Of course, that wouldn't all be profit after deducting the cost of the shard and whatever the Attuner would charge to purify it.

"Attuners charge around one Solan coin to purify a Grullshard," Roger explained as if reading Anadis's thoughts.

"That's why they cost so much once purified." A person who could help came to mind: his sister Nora. She was an Attuner, after all, a recently graduated one, yes, but a good one from what he understood. Perhaps she could purify the shard for free, or at least give him a family discount. He could already imagine her getting all clingy and dramatic the moment he asked her for the favor. But his greedy side was calling to him. Just imagining having close to three Solan gold coins all to himself…

the things he could buy with that kind of money.

"Listen, just accept his coin and move on," Hel goaded him impatiently. And there it was, his brief fantasy of wealth, dissolved by the pestering goddess who had decided to make him her vessel and now followed him everywhere. Stolen story; please report.

"Fine," Anadis agreed at last. Perhaps he should have argued and resisted the temptation of such easy money, but hey, he was no saint, and the man had insisted it was no problem.

"Here's the Grullshard." Roger's lips curled into a faint smile as he nodded.

"Do you have a pouch ring?" he asked.

"Or would coins be better?"

"Coins," Anadis admitted. He didn't own a pouch ring yet, a ring used to store coins through the new bank system. It had only been around for about a decade, and he'd never had enough money to bother with one.

"As promised," Roger gestured to his palm and let the coins drop into Anadis's open palm.

"One Solan and two Argen." Anadis could see his eyes glinting in the coins' reflection, especially that Solan gold one. That was more money than he'd ever had. It wasn't all that much, really, at least for an adult, but for him, a kid? For a second, he let himself imagine this becoming ordinary.

"You're back early," the man suddenly said, prompting Anadis to look up. Roger's gaze was directed behind him.

"The book I needed was already checked out," a soft but firm voice replied, slightly muffled by chewing.

"I left a request." Anadis turned toward the sound of the voice and unhurried footsteps approaching from behind. A girl with a satin headscarf covering her hair and ears walked toward them, a heavy-looking satchel full of books slung over one shoulder and a gloved hand holding a sandwich she was biting into. She didn't see him immediately, but then she looked up, and their eyes met. Her red eyes moved from his face to his golden ones, then back. Something shifted in her expression—recognition? Or surprise?

Her eyes widened, her shoulders stiffened, and her steps hastened. She offered no acknowledgment that they had been in the same trial three days ago, that he had spoken to her during the ceremony and she had ignored him… yet she had grabbed his tunic before they were transported. Her gaze flicked past him to her father with practiced efficiency.

"I'll be inside," she said, walking past the counter and through the curtain without another word. So that's the sound of her voice? Anadis thought as he stared at the spot where she had been standing.

"That's my daughter," Roger said, clearing his throat quietly.

"She can be a bit… reclusive."

"We've met," Anadis muttered.

"Mm, sort of."

"You have?" Roger gave him a scrutinizing look, and his brows shot up with recognition.

"Oh, that's right, you're one of the twins from the Awakening Ceremony, right?" Without waiting for Anadis to respond, he dashed past the curtains and came back, dragging a very unwilling daughter by the arm.

"Look, he's the boy you talked about—the one who defended you in the cathedral!"

"Dad," she said flatly.

"You're embarrassing me." Why hadn't she wanted to talk to Anadis? Why had she ignored him back at the cathedral and was doing her best to avoid him now as well? Usually, if someone didn't want him close, he would respect that, but not with her. He wanted to know her. He wanted to understand the girl beneath the headscarf, beneath the silence. He wanted to know her name.

"My name's Anadis," he said, stepping forward and swallowing dryly.

"I… understand if you don't want to get to know me." He rubbed the back of his head, looking at her.

"But we're both Blessens from the same cohort. Maybe we could be friends?" She glanced at him with those deep ruby eyes, and he lost himself in them for a moment.

"S-Selene," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, unable to hear her because of how softly she spoke. She looked down and squinted her eyes.

"Selene… That's my name." Then she yanked her hand away from her father and walked through the curtain without looking back. Selene… Now, why was that so hard? Had he looked intimidating to approach, or was she just nervous? And why would she be?

"Interesting," Hel said quietly, more to herself than to him.

"I see potential in you two."

"Potential as Blessens?" he asked mentally. Hel rolled her eyes.

"You're so dense it's almost impressive."

"Sometimes I worry she doesn't have any friends," Roger cut into his thoughts.

"Or that she keeps to herself too much." Anadis scratched his cheek, not sure what to say.

"I see you think the same. Don't blame her. She worries people will treat her differently because she's an—" Roger bit his tongue, catching himself. He eyed the man with suspicion. Anadis didn't have to be a great clairvoyant to figure out the man was about to say something far too personal, something a stranger like Anadis had no business poking his nose into.

Still, the gossiping part of him wanted to press the blacksmith just to see if the man would let something slip, but Roger's expression had already shifted into something softer and livelier, clearly closing the door on the topic.

"You know, my daughter always spends time in the Learning Hall library after classes," Roger said with a subtle wink.

"You could, in case you're really serious about being her friend, talk to her there."

"I am serious about being her friend," Anadis answered without thinking too long.

"I'll make sure to go to the library after classes." He shook the man's hand.

"Thanks for all the help, Mr. Roger, and the business, of course. It was nice to meet you, and your kid, and Selene as well."

"Likewise." The man nodded once.

"You're a good kid, Anadis." ❧❧ ⫷ ❁ ⫸ ❧❧ Sitting cross-legged in the far end of his backyard, Anadis swirled the small vial of clarity potion between two fingers. The old lady had even apologized after hearing what went down with the Attuner she had sent him to. Feeling so bad, she had added another discount on top of the already discounted price, bringing the total down to four and a half Argen, which was the total of his savings. But now he had one Solan gold and two Argen silver from selling the shard.

A smile appeared on his lips as he thought of all the coins now in his possession.

"We've wasted enough time," Hel said. Purple and gold glimmering motes danced with every flap of her wings.

"Agreed," Anadis said, holding out the potion.

"Here it is. Are you going to be able to drink all of it, though?" Her body was around half the size of the potion vial, so could she? He knew for certain he wouldn't be able to drink a bucket of water, or any liquid, that was half his size. Hel's eyes flicked to the potion, then back to him, unimpressed.

"That drink is not for me," she said, letting out a quiet breath with a shake of her head.

"It's for you, so drink it before you embarrass yourself further."

"But…" He frowned, looking at her dubiously.

"I don't have a memory loss problem. You do."

"My problem has a solution. It'll come back with time," she said, resting one elbow on her other arm.

"As long as you get stronger, that is. And for you to get stronger, I need you whole, which you aren't."

"What are you talking about?" Anadis stood up, confused. He gestured frantically.

"I'm not whole? What does that even mean?"

"You know," she gave him a knowing look and crossed her arms, one brow raised.

"You had nightmares, right?" He stilled.

"How do you know about those?"

"Because I live in your soul," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing.

"I can't read your thoughts, but I can feel the shape, the state of them, which allows me to decipher your mood rather easily. However, it's hard to explain, but your mind feels…" She paused, searching for the right word, then pushed both her hands together but not quite touching.

"Your mind feels crowded."

"Crowded?"

"There are memories in you that don't belong to your current life… or the current you," she said, eyeing him with a sharp gaze.

"I don't know whose they are or where they came from. I only know they're there, and that they're creating interference with your Blessing, like trying to listen to two voices speaking at the same time. Your mind is struggling to hold both."

"That's not possible." Anadis was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"You're making all this up."

"Am I now?" She tilted her head, unimpressed.

"You've been having these nightmares for years, I assume. A place you've never been. People you've never met. What else?"

"A name that isn't mine," he finished. She let that sink in.

"Does that sound like something your mind invented?" He stayed silent and did not blink. Because the honest answer was no, it had never felt imaginary, not in the way a dream or a nightmare would. It was too vivid, too haunting. It had always felt like something his consciousness was begging him to remember rather than something he was dreaming up. A difference he had never been able to articulate until just now.

"So what are these memories?" he asked carefully.

"As I said, I don't know," she admitted, and the words seemed to cost her something.

"I can sense the way your consciousness is begging to be unleashed, but I can't see exactly what those memories are." She uncrossed her arms and pointed at the potion.

"What I do know is that they're destabilizing you. The clarity potion grants a person temporary clearness of mind and boosts intellectual prowess. It won't unlock those memories, but it will make them easier to bear, bringing your core and mind into a state ready for the first Key." Anadis had heard of plenty of students using similar stuff to pass tests or presentations. He had never done anything like that himself; just the thought of how Mother and Grandma would react sent a shiver crawling down his spine.

Shaking his head, he asked, "Will the nightmares stop?" He hadn't had them for a while now, aside from that one time right before the Blessed Trial and after it, too.

"They'll stop coming, eventually," she said simply.

"How?"

"You already know the answer to that." She looked at him. He did. First, the potion, then the blood bond for the first Key. Looking down at the small, unassuming potion in his hand, the one he had foolishly assumed was meant for Hel's memory problem, not his own. Anadis couldn't help but smile at the irony. The one who hadn't known he had a memory problem was the one with the memory problem. Well, he still wasn't entirely sure he believed her. Other memories from where? From who exactly? Yeah right… And yet…

The girl's face surfaced, unbidden and without warning. It wasn't a dream this time, just a flash: reddened, tear-streaked cheeks and lips forming words he couldn't hear or understand. The absolute certainty that she was real, that she had existed, and that somewhere in the wreckage of whatever he was, she had meant something to him or to whoever those memories belonged to. Uncorking the potion, he inhaled deeply.

"This doesn't mean I believe you," he said.

"You don't have to," Hel replied.

"Drink it anyway." As he gulped it down, cold water with a faint raw sweetness like fruit left too long in the sun hit his tongue. Nothing dramatic happened. Nothing that felt like his mind was rearranging itself or altering his sense of self. It was just quiet… like a meadow on a cloudless day. Anadis looked at Hel expectantly.

"Umm… I don't think it's working."

"Of course it is," she said, palming her tiny forehead.

"But you need to digest it first. It'll take time to take effect. Go to sleep for now. It's already late." Then, when he was in the deepest state of sleep that night, something made him turn in his sleep as it surfaced, clearer and more vivid than any dream he had ever had. Because it wasn't a dream, but a memory.