Somewhere inside Greenleaf city, a man dashed from roof to roof in a certain direction.

It was late at night, and the only people walking around the streets were the guards on patrol, who he carefully avoided. Not because he was afraid of being detained, but actually the opposite. Not only they wouldn’t be able to stop him due to their huge gap in strength, but his position in the city was above theirs. Basically, they answered to him.

Why was he avoiding them then?

The main reason was simple: he didn’t want to attract attention to himself. If he were to be seen that late at night, alone, and having somewhere to be, the rumors would soon spread... And seeing as not even he knew what was happening at the place he was going to, he opted for anonymity.

From one roof, to another, landing lightly then jumping again, his short, grey hair swayed, brushed by the cold autumn wind.

He didn’t know how, but a huge essence fluctuation had come from the west side of the city, a fluctuation only a few people he knew could produce.

What worried him was that most of them weren’t currently in Greenleaf and didn’t even live on the west side. Moreover, that whole part of the city was controlled by the House of Hallen, who were a headache in their own right, so such an event happening on their territory could only become a bigger pain if he didn’t investigate it first.

But what worried him the most was that a person important to him had departed through the west entrance that day. Even though she should be far away from Greenleaf already, he couldn’t help but think about the worst case scenario.

Such were the instincts of a father.

At the same time, a female figure arrived in front of an orphanage.

Every time she took a step, her long, black robe swayed, outlining her charming silhouette, and played a contrast against her pale skin and long, wheat-colored hair.

However, most people would recognize her for her hat and the sound it made, as it was black, with a wide brim and conical crown, aside from a bell hanging from its point, curling it down from its weight, and tingling at her every move.

Her gaze focused on a disheveled hut.

“Seems like I’m the first to arrive, thanks to Trismeg.” She muttered to herself, relieved.

The fluctuations coming from inside weren’t obvious except to a few people, so she didn’t expect to find a crowd or anything like that. However, it was the identity of those who could arrive at any moment that worried her.

Currently, there were two persons in the city who would certainly come to investigate, aside from herself.

One of them was easy to talk to, but the other…

She shook her head, and quickly checked inside the hut. Her pretty blue eyes blinked a few times before what she witnessed.

A black-haired man was lying mid-air, unconscious. His features were slightly hidden by his suspended long hair, and upon closer inspection, she realized the man was actually younger than he appeared, and she had only been fooled by his mistreated beard and poor clothes.

It took her a bit to recall his identity.

“As I thought, he wasn’t sick.” Her thoughts escaped her.

It was uncertain what would happen to that youth if he was discovered by either of the two other persons that were sure to come. While one of them was not known to be dishonorable, and would certainly not mistreat someone with such potential, the other...

And in either case, as the saying goes: a person may look straight ahead, until they catch something shiny through the corners of their eyes.

She nodded to herself, and with the calm that only comes with practice, she extended her hands in his direction and traced a circle. With her seventh sense as a catalyst, the essence inside her swirled, and like ink on paper, began to leave a purple line behind her fingers.

Soon, a circular drawing about three hands wide, full of letters and shapes which only an expert would be able to read, took form in front of her tender features. Then, as soon as she finished, her work turned to dust and spread out inside the hut at a wave of her hand.

Two breaths later, Avaln’s body disappeared, replaced by a blue cloud which emanated power.

“Looks convincing enough.” She muttered, then nodded to herself.

Right after, her seventh sense warned her of someone approaching.

She quickly stepped outside, calmed herself, and put on a naughty look of someone who had just made a mistake and couldn’t quite get away with it.

After a few breaths, a man appeared behind a corner. He seemed to be in his forties, had short grey hair, sun-kissed skin, and wore a casual green shirt with grey pants and leather boots. When he saw her, he raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Lizbell?” He inquired in a rhetorical way. Anyone would recognize the city’s alchemist just by seeing her extravagant hat. “How come you are here?”

She bowed and answered, “I never expected that my little mishap would attract the attention of the Greenleaf guild chief. I hope Mr. Greenleaf doesn’t take offense.”

His expression visibly relaxed at hearing this. She was, after all, the only person in his mind who could provoke such fluctuations right now. However, seeing as she wasn’t casting any spells, but the fluctuations still remained, he couldn’t be entirely convinced.

“What happened? Are you the cause?”His eyes were fixed in the hut a few meters from him.

“Mr. Greenleaf is correct. As I was making my way towards my home, I accidentally dropped a flask… “She glanced sideways, appearing embarrassed.

“A flask?”

She nodded. “The flask in question contained the essence of a 5th Order creature. I managed to contain it inside that hut, and as I was preparing to seal it in another flask…” She glanced at him, meaningfully.

As someone who was used to dealing with such items, she knew the lie would be hard to see through. Not only were 5th Order hardly ever seen near Greenleaf, they were also quite strong. If their complete essence were to suddenly be unleashed, it could indeed provoke wild fluctuations, even more if the flask used to contain them was broken in the process, as such an item had spells attached to it.

The man understood this. “I’m sorry if I interfered with your procedures. But my lady must understand that such fluctuations, even more inside the city, are a matter of worry for one such as me.”

She lowered her gaze, almost regretful.

“It’s interesting to know that even an alchemist such as my lady can drop something so important.” He continued. He had no reason to suspect her, but there was still something pulling at him from the corner of his mind, and he couldn’t quite grasp it. “What creature did the essence belong to, out of curiosity?”

The alchemist remained calm, although a bit of worry aroused inside her when seeing him still acting cautious.

She had only cast a simple yet powerful illusion spell, so anyone who were to probe inside the hut with their seventh sense would only feel a dense wild cloud of essence, but if they were to take a closer inspection, they’d immediately be able to tell there was someone inside the cloud…

“A blue drake from the North.” She answered casually, not offended by the question. It was common courtesy not to ask too much about someone’s means, but the man in front of her was one of the few people to whom that rule didn’t quite apply. Not inside Greenleaf. “Its essence is quite useful for physique strengthening potions.”

The man nodded to himself, with a satisfied and more relaxed expression. Seeing as they knew each other already, he dismissed his suspicions as just him overthinking things because of the idea his daughter could be in danger. He was known to be a bit overprotective, after all.

“If that’s the case, then…” However, just as he was about to give his farewells, his seventh sense picked up someone approaching.

A tall man in his forties, with brown short hair, short beard, and blue elegant clothes suddenly landed about ten steps away. As soon as he noticed their gaze on him, he walked towards them in a leisurely manner.

“How uncommon to see three Brilliant Essence realm masters reunited like this in front of such a place.” He commented, then bowed. “Richard, Cecilia. I hope you’ve been well.”

Despite his friendly speech, none of them returned the greetings nor bowed in return.

“I don’t remember allowing you to use my name so carelessly, Lord Hallen.” Cecilia Lizbell argued.

“Me neither. Don’t play the sheep while hiding your fangs with us, Hallen.” Richard Greenleaf concorded.

The man in front of them, Edward Hallen, shrugged and smiled. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go straight to the point then. What are you doing in front of my orphanage this late at night?”

Richard’s eyes opened in surprise.

“Your orphanage?” He repeated, while deep in thought.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Cecilia remained calm, although she was beginning to curse inside her mind. “Yes, the one to our side. The disorder my little accident has caused probably made Mr. Greenleaf forget its existence. For that, I can only apologize.”

Lord Edward Hallen’s gaze traced Cecilia’s figure, then alternated between her and Richard, and finally rested on the latter as he had not spoken for a few breaths.

“Well? Have you come up with an excuse yet?” He inquired, with a sardonic smile.

Richard, however, ignored him and looked at Cecilia instead. “Wasn’t there a beggar inside that hut?”

Cecilia’s mood sank, although her face remained calm. She cursed Hallen and his eight generations of ancestors, for she was sure the situation could have been wrapped up nicely if he hadn’t arrived.

“A beggar?” She repeated, feigning ignorance. “What beggar?”

“The beggar you make potions for, that beggar.” Hallen clarified, causing his ancestors to be cursed inside Cecilia’s mind once again. “This is my orphanage after all. I know what happens with everyone inside, including how my employee seems to pay you a visit every week, to buy healing vials for the beggar my son spars with every now and then.”

Upon hearing this, Richard’s gaze turned cold.

When Hallen had mentioned his orphanage, and probably because the person in question had been in his mind just recently, he recalled a conversation he had with his daughter about a young man who was being abused by Roland Hallen. Of course, she hadn’t used the word beggar, but when he subtly investigated the case afterwards he found out about his situation, and how Edward’s brat treated him.

That’s why he asked like he did. And now, it seemed the alchemist had a more direct connection to that young man than he thought…

“Please. Lord Hallen must be joking.” She laughed lightly, without a hint of courtesy. “Many people come to my shop every day, seeking healing vials, antidotes… how am I supposed to remember each face, much less what they buy the potions for? Unless the recipe in question is extremely rare, I don’t ask for personal information or the uses my customers give to such an item.”

She did her best to remain calm, but a hint of worry got mixed in her tone, a detail both men caught.

“Well, there is indeed a powerful essence cloud inside that hut, with no trace of any beggar.” Lord Hallen commented then, still using his friendly tone. “Richard, you can check for yourself. Our seventh sense cannot be fooled by just anyone... “

Richard’s eyes narrowed. Cecilia didn’t know if it had been because of Hallen using his name so carelessly, or because of the hidden meaning of his words.

Above the Manifested Essence realm, there was the Brilliant Essence realm. If you were to compare them both, you could say the former’s seventh sense, at its peak, was as strong as a coursing river, while the latter’s, in the first stage, was as strong as a stormy ocean. There was simply an insurmountable gap between the two, and there weren’t many means with which to fool a master who had reached such heights…

Except for spellcasters. The Domain of Magic had many ways to manipulate essence, and Alchemy was but a path to follow. Alchemists had to know a certain amount of spellcasting for their craft, and were usually quite proficient in concealing spells, as they often needed to hide their secret workshops from prying eyes.

And of course, as a guild chief, Richard Greenleaf was aware of this. He and Cecilia had a business partnership, so there was a certain amount of trust between them, but not enough to not be cautious around her.

When faced with his cold gaze, Cecilia felt a shiver run down her spine.

Both, Edward Hallen and Richard Greenleaf, were at the Brilliant Essence second stage, while she herself was at the Brilliant Essence first stage.

As an alchemist and spellcaster, she was indeed powerful, but she wouldn’t last more than a few seconds against them in such a close range, with no time to cast anything.

She would have a hard time escaping from one, let alone both of them.

“Miss Lizbell… is there a beggar inside the hut?” Richard interrogated, still staring at her but with a hint of hostility this time.

He wasn’t really concerned about the beggar’s safety. How could he be worried about the well-being of such a character? The only reason he even remembered him was because of his daughter. No, his biggest headache right now was Hallen.

If Lizbell had lied to him, not only would it make him lose face, it would also mean he’d owe him a favour for shining light upon such an action, which in their cold political war meant Richard would lose more of his power.

Edward Hallen was cunning and shrewd, unlike his son who only knew how to bully the weak and satisfy his base desires. You could say such an enemy was precisely the kind Richard avoided like the plague, for he lacked the vision to understand their plots.

So, as a safety measure, he would do everything in his power to avoid dealing him any cards to play.

And then, on the side of his head, he also pondered... Why would a person like Cecilia Lizbell lie about the whereabouts of a beggar? If what his seventh sense was perceiving was but an illusion, were the fluctuations an illusion too? He hardly believed it, which left the question...

What was their cause then?

“It seems no matter what I say, Mr. Greenleaf won’t believe me… “ She answered, meeting his brown eyes head on. “So all I can propose is for you to check for yourself.”

She dropped the courtesy, betting a brave posture would make him trust her more.

A few breaths passed. Richard Greenleaf didn’t move in that time, nor did he stop looking at her intense blue eyes, as if trying to discern any lies within them. That hesitation, however, rekindled Cecilia’s hope. She was the best alchemist in the city, after all. Not many people would offend her lightly, for alchemists were, in many ways, the adventurer’s lifeline.

There were many dangers out there, and not everything could be beaten with a sharp weapon.

As such, Richard was currently in a bind. He could check the hut and be done with it, but doing so would mean he didn’t believe her, and if the result was she had been indeed telling the truth, worse case scenario, she might even close ties with him entirely and do business with Hallen only instead.

Such dilemma was precisely Cecilia’s aim.

She saw the conflict in his eyes, and just as he seemed about to voice his decision, Lord Hallen moved.

“If you don’t want to check, I’ll do it. No problem.” He said then, turning around and approaching the hut like one who takes a stroll through their own garden.

Cecilia’s expression froze as Richard cast his gaze on Hallen.

It’s over. She thought, a drop of cold sweat running down the side of her face.

It’s over.

“... I should have known we’d be noticed.”

Avaln stared at her, confused. “Noticed?”

The woman stood up, and began to draw something in the air in front of her. “The book is a kind of spell. A spell manipulates the essence to produce a phenomenon, but the bigger the phenomenon, the stronger the essence’s movement is.” She focused on her drawing for a moment. “When you drop a stone in a lake, ripples form. This is practically the same. Although, in that analogy the book’s activity this time is like dropping a ten-meter boulder...”

Avaln nodded, pondering something. “This time?”

The woman sighed slightly, then nodded while still quickly working on many symbols. “I can’t say for certain what my true soul was thinking, but I can guess she expected you to absorb a few drops of knowledge at best, not a whole tenth. The worst part is that these waves cannot be felt by just anyone, and the first to arrive at the scene are sure to be the ones with the highest essence refining level...”

Avaln held his chin in one hand, following that line of thought...

Until then he had not really valued the gift he received. Not because he lacked conscience, but because there hadn't been any time to do so.

Until that night, he thought the book, albeit weird, was not unlike any other and would have at most a secret art or two written on it.

Yet it actually was an inheritance so great he could not even draw a tenth of its knowledge, belonging to a master that was probably beyond the known peak of essence refining: Fervent Essence realm.

The fragment of her soul in front of him was proof enough of her profound means.

If he was the center of an essence wave big enough to attract the big shots in the city, they would certainly capture him in order to know all of his secrets, because… How can a mere Nascent Essence realm beggar produce such a phenomenon?

Depending on their means, they may even realize what he possessed, in which case his end could not be good.

As the saying goes, a person may look straight ahead, until they catch something shiny through the corners of their eyes.

A cold sweat ran down his face as he contemplated such a future.

Suddenly, the woman stared at the same direction again, and raised an eyebrow. “It seems someone has bought us a bit of time. Good.” She then met eyes with Avaln. “I’ll use the last of my strength to open an essence corridor. I’m sorry, but you won’t be back at your place when you wake up.”

Sadness, worry, nostalgia, decisiveness...

The unexpected had shattered her aura of indifference, and the sensation Avaln had noticed in her eyes but couldn’t quite figure out, suddenly became a myriad of emotions.

“What will happen to you?” He couldn’t help but ask.

It hadn’t been enough.

It hadn’t been nearly enough.

He had so many questions, so many ideas, so many unspoken words he wanted to say...

She saw these thoughts on his expression. She saw them because a part of her felt the same.

Yet she offered no reassurance, no support, no words of comfort.

How could she?

She wasn’t really his saviour. The woman he was looking up to.

She was but a phantom, a shadow, a print left by the weight of her soul on that book. The fact that such a boy had an impact on her behaviour proved she lacked the original’s experience and countenance.

Her fingers finished tracing the spell in front of her, all that was left was to imbue it with power.

She met eyes with that boy one last time…

“Wait!” He cried, reaching out for a hand that disappeared inside his grip.

Her limbs slowly became a pale, golden light, which gently flowed towards a certain point. There, as if filling some impossible crevice, a circle began to form, full of writings and symbols Avaln could not recognize...

He blinked. He gripped his heart with a thought and pulled himself out of his shock by pure force of will.

He finally understood what her eyes were telling him from the beginning. It was like a mist seeping through her expression, born from something much deeper and dense.

Loneliness.

“I’ll find you.” He declared, without even a hint of doubt. “I put the heavens as witness, I swear I’ll find you.”

Her scarlet eyes shone, and her lips curved into the most wonderful smile he had seen from her yet.

“My true soul is indeed lucky…” her thoughts escaped her, as the last remnants of her body turned into light.

Then, the drawing became dust, and shot to the stars.

Avaln looked at the far night sky to his left.

He felt a sudden emptiness hollowing his chest, and he wondered if someone could speak their heart out.

He had just one regret.

.

.

.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him.

“Sgithe.” Her voice echoed, as rare as a streak of pure happiness.

Avaln noticed a star being born in the almost empty sky, and then a tiny pale golden flake shot towards him, entering his chest.

“When you find me…”

“Call me Sgithe.”