When she had first assumed the role of master of the scales, the garden was but a barren land surrounding the grand mansion, with only shrubs and wildflowers growing in patches. It was her idea to ship seeds from different worlds and plant them around to ease a bit of the trapped souls’ anxiety. Maybe, she had hoped, seeing something from where they came from would ease a bit of their lamenting cries and allow her peace of mind.

Or so she had thought. It was strange how none of them cared about the garden she had meticulously arranged and had Aseel spend most of his time tending to. In all those years, only she had taken care to stroll around the strange and colorful flowers, enjoying their fragrance and the softness of their petals against her fingertips. Maybe she was the one who wanted to have those pieces of their worlds, to gather them close to her chest and gaze at them during her long, arduous days.

Traveling to other worlds wasn’t forbidden. She had done it once, thousands of years ago. She had set foot in a world with more sea than land. She had soaked her feet in azure seas, gazed upon scarlet skies, and watched the twin moons soar among the stars, illuminating the stardust sand as the waves broke against the shore. She would never forget those years. She held those memories close to her heart, revisiting them as she neared her breaking point, buried under paperwork, thinking about razing the whole place to the ground.

While her bedroom was on the other side of the mansion, she could still hear, deep in the night, some souls complaining about their unfortunate fate.

Me too, she often thought. She was as much trapped with them as they were with her.

Talia walked slowly through the garden. Her gaze fixed on Weylin Sywardus as he gazed at the red camellia. She inched towards him as silently as she could. She was on a mission now, and the first step in her plan was to approach this mysterious soul.

Three hundred years ago, she wouldn’t have believed if someone told her she would willingly approach a soul and try to convince him to apply for a second chance. But three hundred years ago, she wouldn’t have believed that a soul would be under her roof and would go unnoticed for more than a month.

No. not a month. Forty-three years. Forty-three years, and she only now noticed him. How could this be?

She stopped a few feet from him, debating how to start a conversation. Her break would soon be over, and she wanted to get this first step out of the way. Not that she was pressed by time, far from it. The only thing not scarce here was time.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.

Weylin didn’t startle. If he was surprised by her presence, he didn’t show. He turned to her, a smile pulling at his lips, the afternoon sun glinting against his golden locks.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. There was something strange about the way he smiled. Something she couldn’t put her finger around. It reminded her of a feeling she had felt once, a long time ago, as she gazed upon one of the participants in her tests—someone who had gone through them like a breeze.

“Indeed,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with its name.”

“It’s a red camellia.” Talia looked at the red petals, feeling his heavy gaze upon her. “It’s from another realm. A world called Earth. It was a bit hard to grow them at first. The soil structure is a bit different, you see..” A lot different. It had taken them years to figure out a way to make it bloom. Years and resources.

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“I reckon.” he hummed.

She turned to him, pausing at the strange look he gave her. This soul wasn’t like the others. Talia was sure of it. She would bet her whole ice cream shipment on this truth. She was a good judge of character. It was the reason why Adyl had asked her, and not anyone else, to take his mantle. Well… that and the fact that no one expressed any interest in the job. No one but Layt. but Layt didn’t count. He only cared for it after hearing it was her Adyl had asked. She had asked him, hundreds of years later, to take her place, and he had refused.

‘I should have been his first choice. I don’t chase after scraps,’ he had said, staring haughtily at her.

“You must like flowers. Were you perhaps a florist in your world?” she asked, fishing for clues.

“Something like that,” Weylin said vaguely.

She bristled. Was he that insistent to make things hard for her? Any information other than names was only accessible to her after a soul had requested to receive her seal of approval. Anything else was protected by the privacy law.

They lapsed into an awkward silence. Talia’s mind went a mile a minute to come up with something else to say. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Aseel making way towards her, surely to drag her back to the hall.

She turned to Weylin, who smiled at her, his blue eyes crinkling at the sides. Still, it felt cold, reminding her of the ice she had seen a thousand years ago.

Whatever tale he had, she was sure it would be interesting.

She cursed under her breath as Aseel crossed the veranda, his steps hurried, his eyes fixed on her. There was nothing better than a front attack. She grasped Weylin’s arm, tightening her grip when he shifted to face her. He stared at her, eyebrow raised, but didn’t try to break free.

“Would you like a second chance?” she asked.

He blinked. His gaze lingered on her hand before shifting to her face.

“You’ve been here long enough. Surely you know who I am,” she said, her eyes boring into his. “If you wish for it, I can get you your second chance.”

He smiled, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Thank you. It’s an honor that the master of the scales herself is making the offer. But I’m afraid it’s not something I’m wishing for.”

Talia blinked. “If it’s the seal of approval you worry about, you’ve already got it. The only thing I require is your tale. Nothing else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded.

She wanted to shake him, to tell him it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, that he should be kneeling on the floor, weeping at being granted this gift without passing through the scales’ judgment. But her words were cut off by Aseel’s voice.

“Master Talia. I’m afraid the break is over. The souls have been demanding your presence in the hall,” Aseel called.

Talia huffed, letting the frustration show on her face. She heard the chuckle by her side.

“It seems you’re a bit busy for another request.”

She scowled before schooling her features into what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “I can make an exception now and then.”

He watched her for a while, then nodded. “I’ll let you know if I ever have a change of heart.”

He turned and walked away. Talia watched, baffled by the audacity of this soul. No one walked away from her, certainly not before she dismissed them.

She huffed, turning her angry eyes to Aseel. He shrugged, unfazed by her irritation.

Only after the third second-chance request—that she had denied yet again—that it dawned on her. When she had grasped his hand, she had forgotten to tune down her strength. She had used her normal strength as she would have when in the presence of another resident of Idir. Using such force with a normal soul would have torn a thread through its very fabric that would have taken a while to fix.

Yet, he seemed fine. He didn’t bat an eyelash at it.

She grinned. He was greatly mistaken if he thought she would leave him alone after his refusal. It only renewed her resolve. Now more than ever, she vowed to figure him out.