Cira had been invited to join some mages’ club or other a few times over the years. Sometimes they had truly enticing benefits as the woman before her now offered, so she considered it briefly in a fanciful daydream. Cira certainly liked knowledge and rare ingredients, but everything between her and those desires was sure to prove a hassle—such was the nature of being a member of anything. It reminded her of a similar hassle that appeared recently.

“Good grief. Don’t tell me it was that dubious council buying up all the deritium! I already got your letter; not interested.” Cira crossed her arms and recalled the summons she received in the mail.

“I… beg your pardon? I am an arbiter of the Third Order of the Lost Archive.” Eliza winced and seemed to make some kind of connection. “Wait, do you have an affiliation with the Sorcerous Council?”

“I don’t even know what it is.” Exasperation was thick in Cira’s voice. “And I am certainly not affiliated with anything.” Needless to say, she did not look forward to the convergence.

“I see…?” Eliza seemed a little thrown off, which could ostensibly be taken as a win. “Well, at the order we can help you regain your aura overnight. I can even grow your leg anew before I leave here today. With plenty of other members to help you develop your talents, we have endless libraries of tomes for you to learn any manner of magic you could think of.”

“Oh?” She had to admit that last part interested her to a degree. “And what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing but knowledge, of course.” Eliza smiled with seemingly earnest eyes, “It is how the archive grows and how it has come to amass such a great deal of wisdom.”

It can’t possibly be the pinnacle of wisdom if they need me to add to it. I like the idea of a huge library, but I don’t know how I feel about all this. In truth, it sounded like a lot of secret sharing and even more bookwork. Cira transcribed so many tomes as a child, she feared she’d grow up with fingers permanently clutching an invisible pen.

“You can’t seriously be thinking of recruiting this witch?” Kristof was in disbelief. Not a witch, thank you. “She can’t even hang onto her aura, and I’m the novice here?”

“Don’t worry.” Cira waved him off, “I’m not looking for a membership card. I only need one thing from you, and I’m willing to pay fair market price.”

“Interesting…” Eliza’s fingers tapped together as she considered Cira’s words, “You realize we need something from you as well. It is the entire reason we’re here, after all.”

“Of course.” It was always going to come back to this. “You want the deritium.”

It was completely gone, burned away, but it was nice to know that wasn’t public information or even available to these shady folks yet.

“Naturally,” Eliza smiled, “But I’m curious what it is that you would challenge us to acquire.”

“Just a few pints of vestigial nectar.” Cira’s gaze trailed off into the distant sky, “Though I would be interested in purchasing other rare ingredients.”

The mage’s genial expression remained, “And what makes you think we have this ingredient you speak of? We are not an organization of merchants, nor a black market outlet, if that’s what you thought.”

“You sent that freakishly large man down to help Don’s crew out, right? I’d bet my shiniest rock you guys made him, too.” It was really a long shot. There were probably many ways to do something like that which didn’t include vestigial nectar to mitigate the damage to one’s soul, especially for the people who claimed to possess the culmination of mankind’s knowledge.

A smirk grew on Eliza’s face, “My, what a fascinating deduction. You would fit right in at the Archive. Please do consider my offer…” She tapped on the table for a few seconds in deliberation when Kristof seemed to grow irate.

“Eliza, there’s no way this outsider has anything to contribute to the Archive. I mean, just look at her!” It was unclear whether he meant her aura, leg, or anything else for that matter. “Where did she even come from?”

“If you keep interrupting, I will put you to sleep myself.” Eliza gave her trainee a cold glare before turning back to Cira with an innocent smile. “He does pose a good question though. I hadn’t heard of you before the Fount Salt debacle. Where are you from?”

After thinking about it, Cira realized she didn’t have a great answer for that and shrugged, “The sky, I guess.”

“Well, I suppose you don’t have to answer. Forgive me for asking such a personal question.” Kristof quietly seethed behind Eliza as she spoke, “Suppose I can bring you some vestigial nectar. We are still going to need to talk about the deritium.”

She laced her fingers together and put the onus back on Cira. “Let’s. What does the Lost Archive need with such a substance? I didn’t find deritium to be particularly plentiful in knowledge.”

“Will you tell me what you need vestigial nectar for?” Eliza gave her a pointed glance.

“Hmm…” It wouldn’t do to overshare here, so Cira intended to remain silent.

Then Eliza’s face twisted into a sullen grin, “It couldn’t be, that you’ve gone and shattered your soul, have you?” She had a knowing look in her eyes.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Damn this woman. Has she known the whole time? She really is toying with me. When Cira didn’t reply for a few seconds, Eliza continued, “Such a shame… I had half the mind to take you as my apprentice.” She pouted for a moment as her ‘trainee’ in the back turned red in the face with wide eyes. “You will surely live a short life, but if you join the Order, we have ways to extend it by a few decades. You won’t have to turn yourself into a monster or whatever you plan to do.”

Cira’s heart almost skipped a beat as she tried not to let the shock show on her face. Eliza represented a powerful organization with presumably many powerful mages, and they didn’t know how to fix a broken soul. This meeting just became incredibly dangerous—if they found out Cira had the knowledge and the means fix broken souls, the Third Order could become a huge threat.

How is that possible? Souls are abstract, sure, but there are many who study them. At least, I thought there were. On second thought, the Gandeux Skies were apparently defenseless against corporeal degradation. Are souls considered the unseen depths of wisdom these people wish to plunder? With deritium on hand… to what end?

“My Lady,” Her paladin took a lull in the conversation to cut in, “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea—”

Smack!

Cira could hear James shut him up from where she sat. Oliver will be training extra late tonight… Dammit. “I have my pride as a sorcerer. I wouldn’t join a mysterious organization merely to solve my own problem when I haven’t exhausted all potential solutions. I’m sure I can manage a decade or two.”

“Have it your way.” Eliza threw her hands out like she was giving up. “My offer will stand, but I suppose it all hinges on what you’ve done with the deritium. Of course, we are willing to pay at the same rate we offered Don. No, I’ll round it up to an even three hundred gold crowns per ton.”

No wonder Jimbo is so rich, but I have to admit it sounds a little low, all things considered. Were they ripping Don off because he’s an idiot?

The negotiations were reaching a climax, and it was time to ‘hide the rotten plum beneath the broadest leaf’, “Money is no concern to me at the moment… If you bring me three pints of vestigial nectar within the week, I will tell you exactly what I did with the deritium.” This was one of Cira’s original stratagems.

Eliza squinted her eyes and leaned in for a moment. Her gaze palpably read every micro expression on Cira’s face and all she could do was stare right back.

“Very well. I will return here in exactly one week with the ingredients you’ve requested…” The woman had suddenly turned into a hawk and Cira felt one step away from becoming her prey. “But if you renege on your end of the bargain, know that you will make an enemy quite impossible to escape from.”

Incidentally, this woman receiving deritium was irrelevant to the agreement they just made. Cira’s debt would be paid when she told Eliza what she did with it. “That won’t be a problem. And if possible, come bearing a ledger of other ingredients or materials you may be able to source.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mac hid within her coat pocket and bore the role of observer for these negotiations. “I would say this woman is a mage on par with that witch you dislike so much. Perhaps even stronger.”

“I’m not happy about it.” Cira replied, “But I really need that nectar. Their ire is a bridge I will cross when I come to it.”

“We are not merchants, as I’ve mentioned. But that is not to say we don’t have resources. Perhaps we will speak of this topic again if all goes well in a week’s time.” The mage peered into Cira for a few more grueling seconds before letting the tension drop with a sigh. “I suppose I will see you in one week, Cira.”

“Indeed.” They both stood up and Cira dispelled the table and chairs. “May the winds and weather be in your favor, Eliza.”

The mysterious mage returned a warm smile before promptly disappearing. Kristof looked at Cira with frustration before loading the unconscious merchant into the boat’s cargo hold and taking the reins himself,

“I still don’t like this.” He spat, “I’ll be here in a week to kill you when you prove to be a snake.”

“And I will still be here in a week to make you look stupid if that is what you desire.” Cira waved as he ascended through the canopy glaring down at her.

After waiting a few minutes for him to fly away, the crew rejoined her with apprehensive eyes—looks of disbelief. James seemed at a loss trying to figure out what to say when he practically exploded, “Are you insane or just an idiot?! That’s the goddamn Third Order—” Cira held up a finger and glared at him.

“Not a word until we return.” She grazed over the rest of the crew who shrunk back. “Collect the remaining glyphs and get on the boat.”

Cira and her team paced around picking up rocks before silently climbing aboard the wooden skiff and made their way back to Kuja’s in short order. It was nerve wracking to watch the misty horizon for signs of Wick making an appearance—that was the last thing they needed. Cira didn’t really think about that problem in regards to returning for the meeting, but she would figure it out by then.

Instead of landing at Kuja’s, they descended directly into the darkness. That would be where everyone else waited—on Breeze Haven. Finding her home, however, took a great deal of time. She got lost once, blind under the mere torchlight, and had to resurface to try again. Two hours later, her second attempt was a success, and they breached the shining barrier.

“Are you serious?!” James immediately shouted, “I cannot believe you—”

“See?!” His voice was overpowered as Jimbo proudly grinned at him, “Gettin’ lost ain’t so hard. Everyone does it now and again.”

James sank. With an exasperated sigh, he buried his face in his hands.

“I’m just glad there aren’t sharks out there.” Cira replied, “But let’s get inside and regroup before you start yelling.”

Some of the others had come outside and watched them from the grass. Kuja approached with concern when they set down, “How did everything go? You were gone a while.”

“Well… Good and bad news I guess?” She shrugged and motioned everyone inside.

“Hardly.” James added.

“Skipper, whip us up some snacks.” Cira took a seat at the dining room table. There were only three more chairs, and the room was crowded with the entire current crew reunited. “I’d really rather do this downstairs, but I’m hungry.”

“Snacks!” Skipper shouted as he started pulling pans out, “Comin’ right up!”

What happened today wasn’t necessarily something everyone needed to know, but there was no reason to exclude them.

“So?” James continued, “What kind of an idiot works with the Third Order?”

“As many times as you say that, it still means nothing to me. Are they truly so notorious?” Cira happily took a sip from the Ale that was set in front of her.

“Child… What sort of trouble have you brought my way?” Kuja had a grave look in her eyes.

Cira recounted the events of that afternoon as the woman grew increasingly concerned, but the best was saved for last, “I’m worried that these people may take interest if they realize we have a way to reforge the soul.”

Kuja let out a frustrated groan, “Of course… I told you it was a lost art, didn’t I? Well, this shouldn’t be any trouble if they aim to uphold the deal, yes? You have that deritium somewhere downstairs I imagine?”

Cira pursed her lips and remained silent.

“You still got some,” James cut in, “Right?!”

“Of course not!” She threw her hands out in defeat, “I burned it all up! That stuff is a blight on these skies, and I think I put it to damn good use.”