Seth walked for ten more minutes before he held up a pedestrian. The lady was plainly dressed in a simple pink gown that hugged her features enough to note her minor curves but naught more with perhaps an inch of height on him, not enough for him to tilt his head to meet her eyes. She held her hair back in multiple braids and had puckered lips that made her seem a lady who pouted perhaps too many times.

When she stopped, she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“Hi,” he began, gently. “I’m new here and was just wondering if—”

“I’m just going to be polite about this,” she interrupted him with an embarrassed smile. “You have beautiful eyes as a soul mage, and you’re cute. And while it would be fun to show you around and get to know you better,” she held up her left hand, “I’m engaged and don’t think my fiancé would like that.”

Seth’s minds barked in collective laughter. It was rancorous and full. Their laughter boomed in his head and he was forced to school his expression lest he wince visibly. After all, the action would not bode well for him here. She would either think him hurt or problematic. As for her engagement ring, he’d spotted it even before he’d stopped her. There was very little unveiled on a person that escaped his notice. Even the mild wrinkles on her face evident from a great increased frequency of smiles in recent times did not evade him.

Holding back a sigh, he said, “May I please know your name? Not for the purpose of an acquaintance, merely for the purpose of this conversation.”

Ooh, one of his mind cooed. Look at you talking all fancy and polite.

“Courtesy demands,” she said, “that to receive something, a man must be willing to offer something of equal value first.”

Seth wasn’t certain what irked him more. The fact that she was correct or that she continued to speak from the point of a lady who’d just rejected a man vying for her attention.

Again, he fought back a sigh. He could brush past her and make his request of another bystander, perhaps this time he would choose a man. However, something held him back. Perhaps it was some intrinsic pride. Perhaps it was some human desire not to end conversations, even one with a stranger, on a note of misunderstanding. Whatever it was, he did not wish to ponder on it. So he took her advice and gave her a name.

“I’m Oden. May I have yours?”

“Angela.” She held out a hand that was lax and drooped at the wrist. “A pleasure.”

Seth took a moment to consider the falsehood of her words. While she carried an amiable smile, she still did it as a lady too nice to hurt someone, yet insistent on turning them down. He saw no fault in her actions save her assumption of his stance, yet it all irked him.

A gentleman would take her hand in a simple shake. A presumptuous man might even kiss it softly on the back. Seth, in this moment, was none. He took it in a firm handshake that forced her to stiffen it in turn.

“Let’s start afresh, Angela,” he said without inflection, her hand firmly held in his despite her struggle. “Good morning. As pretty as your fiancé insists you are, and as pretty as you actually are, my name is Oden. I am new to West Blue. And I stopped you to ask if there is a way I can get a mode of transportation around these parts to get me into the heart of the territory.”

He released her hand, and she snatched it away. Cradling her hand in the other as if cradling an offended child, she glared at him with annoyance and mild embarrassment.

“I guess I deserved some of that,” she said, reluctant. Then she took a deep breath, a calming breath. “Has anyone ever told you you’re not a nice person, Oden?”

Coming from an assuming wench, we don’t think—

Quiet, another mind scolded.

Is it because we said wench?

No. It’s because—

“I’m certain a few people would’ve,” Seth said, pushing his thoughts aside. “But I’m here to dwell on other things.”

“Like how to get to the heart of town.” She continued to watch him, her eyes assessing where they had once been glaring. “Adventure guild? Hunters Association?”

He watched her eyes track both swords strapped to his hilt as if just now noticing them, before going up to the two handles that poked out from over his shoulders.

He offered her an amiable smile that did not reach his eyes. “There you go assuming again, Angela.”

“Then are you about to imply you’re looking for the Lord’s house?”

A wave of nostalgia hit Seth at the thought of his family house. Nausea hit him with equal force and he grit his teeth. The nostalgia was something he understood, with it came the thought of the transparent orb he’d hidden in his room wall all those years ago. If it was a fragment—big as it was—would it be different? Whatever Jabari had done to stop him from absorbing other fragments, would it be able to push past that barricade?

The nausea, however, was questionable. Why would the thought of his family incite it? Why would his body reject the thought of going home?

“Are you alright?”

Seth focused his attention to find Angela staring at him in worry. He returned the smile to his face, hoping this one met his eyes. “My apologies, Angela. I just had a thought I would rather not have. Regardless, I’m actually trying to get to a place called House fifty-eight. Do you know it, by any chance?”

Her lips quirked up in a smirk, as if he’d just proven her right. “So you are an adventurer.”

Seth quirked a brow, confused at her new found certainty. “I guess… I am?”

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He had no idea what the seminary had in mind for his pastoral year. All he knew was whoever he was going to meet would enlighten him on it. But it seemed his destination was known for its association with adventurers.

“So,” he continued while the lady’s smile widened. “Any idea how to get there, Angela?”

“No, Oden,” she stressed his name as if implying something. “But I know how to get to the houses.”

“The houses?”

She nodded playfully. “Yup. All of them are in the same vicinity. But you’ll have to ask around when you get there for the one you’re looking for. I’ve never been there so I wouldn’t know how to ask.”

Seth nodded. “Thank you. So how do I get a carriage? Does West Blue still use carriages?” he added quickly, hoping he had not said something odd as his minds reminded him they hadn’t seen a carriage since waking up. The bipedal reptilians that had drawn simple transport carriages, along with the carriages, he’d known as a child had been conspicuously absent.

“You must really be coming from a far place,” Angela said, surprised. “West Blue stopped using carriages two years ago, ever since cars became easier to come by…”

Surprising, Seth’s mind thought as she continued to speak.

He agreed with it. Unless, the Baron of the Deep had made the proclamation—which the mage rarely ever does in governance of territories—he saw no reason his father would make that choice. Lord Christian Darnesh was not one for change. Especially when there was nothing significantly wrong with the status quo.

“Wait, what?” he interrupted, his mind catching a phrase in her words.

“You certainly need a lesson in conversations,” she told him. “Why am I waiting?”

“What was that last part you said?”

“About the new cost of vehicular transportation and how expensive it is?”

Seth shook his head. whatever her beef with the new mode of transportation was, it did not bother him. there was no way it would cost as high as a silver coin so he was good. “Not that part. The one before it.”

“Oh,” she touched a groomed finger to her lips. “That the new Lord is a stickler for technology? He’s cute to look at, and from what I hear he’s a powerful soul mage. But it’s almost as if he doesn’t care how much financial stress he puts the masses through when he forces us to adopt change. It’s like he doesn’t know change is supposed to be transitional. You can’t just make things happen so suddenly. We’re supposed to like the change—grow to accept it. Personally, I think…”

Seth’s mind reeled from the confirmed piece of information. He’d heard it the first time. At least, one of his minds had, but he’d needed confirmation. He’d wanted to be sure.

His father was no longer ruling Lord of West Blue.

“Who’s the new Lord now?”

This time Angela frowned. “I get it now,” she said. “I’m prattling, and you find it disturbing. I’ll get you a ride to the houses and get out of your hair.” With that, she raised a hand to the road, waving down the passing cars as one would a carriage.

It was barely a moment when a car came to a halt beside them. It was a simple car of deep blue with a squared feature. It did nothing in the way of aesthetics but sufficed for practicality.

He was about to speak again when Angela bent her head into the side window and spoke to the driver. “The houses, please.”

The man looked from her to Seth. When his eyes met Seth, the smile that had been in them at the sight of Angela bent into contained displeasure.

“The both of you?” he asked.

Angela turned a thoughtful smile on the man. “I don’t think he’s trying to get to know me anymore,” she joked. “So, no. Just him.”

“It’ll cost him.”

“How much?”

“Three silver.”

The man was a skinny man with almost no flesh on him. His face was hollow and his wrists, visible from where his hands rested on the steering wheel, were only as wide as the bones beneath them. He was too starved and poor for a man who owned a car.

Three silver’s a very steep price, one of his minds pointed out. Back then a carriage never cost more than one silver no matter where we were going.

“Three silver’s kinda steep, don’t you think,” she voiced his thoughts, with a flirtatious smile. “He’ll give you one silver, fifty. What do you say?”

“Two silver fifty,” the man scowled. “Final offer. And your pretty face ain’t gon’ change anything so stop smiling like it is.”

Seth caught Angela’s smile waver but she kept it in place, held it firm like his handshake.

“C’mon,” she pressed softly. It reminded him of how Natalie used to speak whenever she wanted him to agree to something she knew he did not like. “How about two silver. You know how hard its been around here.”

“I do.” The man flexed his grip on the steering as if trying to control something that was not the car. “And seeing as you know how hard its been, you’ll understand why I can’t go any less than two silver fifty.”

Angela spent an extra moment to study the man then sighed in resignation, stood back to her full height, and turned to Seth. “You have two silver fifty?”

Seth shrugged. He had considerably more. “Does he have change?”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “You can’t be about to tell me you have only gold on you.”

This time, when he smiled, it met his eyes naturally. He was beginning to find her amusing. Instead of answering, he stepped forward and bent at the side window of the car. “Got change for three silver?” he asked the man.

The car smelled of jasmine and was clean. Its contrast to the driver was growing as he spotted signs of dirt on the man. It showed in the mucus that clogged at the edge of his eyes, phantoms of a long sleep ended too long ago. There was a silent blackening under his nails where dirt accumulated. And when he spoke, it was with the breath of the wild.

“If you have three silver, then pay the three silver for the ride,” the man spat. “You’re a man, aren’t you?”

Seth found he couldn’t be bothered by the man’s attitude. From how he looked, he was no soul mage, and his brown eyes, a sharp contrast to Angela’s pale blue, reminded Seth of his before leaving his home: mundane. From what he could see, the man was only full of bluster. He’s inflated bravado was only more inflated now. It reminded Seth of the children he’d known as a child, those that were victims of bullies.

There were times when adults would tell them bullies would back away if they stood up to them. Perhaps there had been some level of wisdom in their words. Unfortunately, the only children who managed to steal themselves away from being bullied with that advice were the ones who’d been able to back it physically.

The bullies had proven one thing from it, though. One did not stand up to bullies with bravado. As children, if they were going to stand up to their bullies, it meant hitting back as hard as they were hit. Hitting harder was better, but there were reasons bullies were bullies. The weak did not become bullies.

So, channeling his uncompromising self, he repeated: “Do you have change for three silver?”

His words were slow, purposeful, and hinted at a consequence for further attempt to bargain. Beside him Angela bristled. He had no desire to contemplate the exact implication of it. Instead, he kept silver eyes fixed on the driver.

“Y… yes, sir,” the man stammered, scrambling for his glove compartment and opening it. “I’m sure I do.”

“Good.”

Seth opened the door and eased himself into the car without invitation. Before the car moved, he turned his attention to Angela who still stood in what he now realized was terror.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be scared. I mean, we’ve already gone through the motions.”

She remained still, unmoving, like prey in the presence of a predator. Silent. She gave no response, verbal or otherwise.

Seth knew the look. It did not show itself very often with many people, considering soul magi were governed well enough in civilized territories like West Blue to make the unsouled forget just how easily they could crush them. However, the fear was innate, and sometimes the unsouled were reminded of it.

It seemed his threat to the driver had spilled over to Angela. It had reminded her that she had good reason to fear a soul mage. To fear him.

Seth sighed. She would’ve made a good friend. He motioned the driver forward and they drove off.

She was engaged, one of his minds thought as they drove.

“A good friend,” he told it, drawing the terrified attention of the driver, “nothing more.”

Of course.

The sarcasm in the thought was not lost to him.

He ignored it as the driver moved them in the direction of the houses, reminding him he’d been going the wrong way.