Xeris inhaled deeply.
A light breeze brushed his face as summer quietly gave way to fall. Above him, the night sky stretched wide and vibrant, stars scattered in silent brilliance. Anyone who looked up would feel the weight of that vastness pressing down from above.
His footsteps were soft as he made his way toward the village.
At the gate, he had been stopped. The guards were firm – no students were permitted to leave the Institution.
But was there truly anything that couldn't be bought?
It took only a few minutes for the situation to change. Xeris displayed his newly acquired wealth just long enough to plant possibility in their minds, then he slowly withdrew it. The absence did the work for him. Desperation followed, and with it, willingness.
Most people failed at moments like this because of timing. When breaking rules, their hearts raced, palms dampened, and they rushed – eager to finish before fear caught up to them.
That approach didn't work on people in positions of authority.
Xeris felt no fear at all. He gave the guards time – time to weigh the benefits, to justify the choice to themselves. When something appealed strongly enough, people would invent any excuse to indulge in it. They had never let a student through before… but what harm could one exception cause? Surely the punishment wouldn't be severe.
Xeris finally arrived at the entry of the village. He was dressed in black; the dark shadow cast by his large hood made it impossible to tell who he was.
The streets were not crowded; only a few people meandered about.
Xeris wandered for a time, quietly taking everything in. The village was larger than he had expected, with several distinct districts of shops and markets, and rows of homes scattered between them.
He found a stall where someone was still working. It was a dimly lit area, but this stall was full of small trinkets and other items, giving it a sense of personality. The man working it had small eyes and a long white mustache that hung down below his chin. He smiled when he saw Xeris, waving for him to come over.
Xeris walked over.
"Shopkeeper, what do you sell?"
"What are you in the market for, young sir? We have quite the variety of items."
Xeris placed his hands on the wooden counter that separated them.
"Do you have anything involving the awakening of one's Aris?"
The old shopkeeper laughed, but it was not disrespectful or arrogant.
"Young sir, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. An item like that would cost a fortune, and goods of that rarity don't usually pass through a town like ours."
Xeris was not disappointed; he continued to probe.
"What item are you referring to?" Xeris asked, grabbing something off the wall next to him and inspecting it.
The shopkeeper's eyes slightly sparkled seeing this,
"I am talking about a Myr, of course. One of the most expensive Rank 1 Myr in the entire world, the Twin Hearts Myr."
Xeris's eyes widened with interest. He paused a moment before grabbing another item off the wall.
"Forgive my ignorance, but I have never heard of this Twin Hearts Myr. Would you mind enlightening me?"
"Haha," the shopkeeper laughed again, "No need to be so formal, young sir, I can tell you about it." He paused.
"Have you heard of the story The Primordial Alignment? With White Torrent Eternal and Black Hour Eternal?"
Xeris nodded slightly.
"Good, good," The shopkeeper said, "In the beginning of the story, when White Torrent Eternal and Black Hour Eternal awaken their Aris, it is due to the connection they felt in their hearts. To this day, this process continues to be the most traditional path to awakening one's Aris."
"But there are exceptions. As you know, most people never become cultivators; this is not a truth we can change. Our souls are too weak to be noticed by The Great Currents, and we never undergo awakening."
He offered a faint smile, a hint of quiet resignation behind it.
"I don't know much about the Twin Hearts Myr myself. Only what I've heard," he said. "They say it heightens the target's soul, forcing it into contact with the Great Currents. Through that exposure, an immediate alignment occurs – and the Aris is awakened."
He paused, glancing down briefly before continuing.
"But those are only rumors. I can't vouch for how accurate they truly are."
Xeris nodded once and slid the two items back across the counter.
"These caught my eye," he said lightly. "Would you mind keeping them aside for now?"
A flicker of disappointment crossed the shopkeeper's face, but it vanished as Xeris slid a silver Crescent across the counter.
"Your information was useful," Xeris said evenly.
The shopkeeper bowed, accepting the Crescent with care.
Light rain began to fall as Xeris turned to leave.
"Young sir," the shopkeeper called, hesitating, "do you have a name?"
Xeris slowed, turning just enough for the lamplight to die against the edge of his hood. Nothing lay beneath it but darkness.
He said nothing.
A moment later, he was gone.
Xeris slipped from sight, following the street as he continued his quiet exploration of the village.
He found many shops like the one he'd visited earlier, along with several bars and gambling houses scattered throughout the town, each distinct and run by different villagers.
One shop in particular caught his attention.
He turned and stepped inside. The first wooden plank creaked softly beneath his foot. Xeris's eyes flicked down at the sound – then paused as two small feet appeared at the edge of his vision.
A little girl was crouched in front of him, craning her neck to peer beneath his hood.
"Hey, mister! Who are you?!" she shouted, brimming with excitement.
Xeris walked past her, gently patting her head as he went. He moved deeper into the shop, letting his gaze wander over the shelves.
"Sis! Come quick!" the girl called, tapping her feet before sprinting toward the back. "There's a funny-looking man here!"
Xeris stopped in front of a display near the wall.
A knife rested there, its blade a muted black, long and clean, tapering to a narrow point. The metal caught the light in a restrained way – not flashy, but deliberate. Simple in design, pleasing to the eye, it stood apart from the clutter around it just enough to draw his attention.
Xeris's dark eyes lingered on the blade for a moment before he reached out and lifted it.
"Please don't touch that – unless you intend to buy," a sharp voice cut in.
Xeris paid no attention. He held the knife up, turning it slightly as he examined the blade.
Only after a moment did he look up.
A young woman stood across from him, the little girl from earlier peeking out from behind her leg.
Silence stretched briefly before Xeris spoke.
"How much for this knife?"
Moments later, Xeris emerged from the shop, the newly purchased knife concealed beneath his long sleeves.
His gaze drifted back toward the Institution.
The rain had thickened, striking his face in a steady curtain. He stared into it, eyes hollow, as if the downpour had swallowed all depth ahead. Water traced slow paths down his cheeks, indistinguishable from anything else it might resemble.
For a long moment, he remained still. The distant lights of the Institution blurred behind the veil of rain, neither welcoming nor forbidding – simply there, waiting.
Xeris closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
With a quiet breath, he turned away from the darkness beyond the walls and began the walk back. The rain followed him, soaking into his clothes, erasing the traces of where he had stood as he moved steadily toward the Institution.