Usually, it was the simple things. Yes, usually it was the simple things. After all the opposite of those simple things, the complicated things were, well, easy. 

No, not in the sense that they were easy to understand, no. That would be tricking yourself. Like saying that you ordered three large pizzas tonight because tomorrow was so hectic you wouldn’t have the time to make breakfast. Thus having a leftover (which you would definitely not eat) was a smart choice. No. Of course not. What he meant was that complicated things were easy to be marveled at. To be put on a pedestal, to be shouted awes. Complicated things never lacked gasp. They never lacked ebullience. And why would they be? They were complicated! They were stuff that people need to outsource the whole ticks and tocks to a select group of experts spending at least half of their lifetime, nose deep in books or mucks (oftentimes both) just to understand a part of it.

Compared them to simple things. The simple things were simpler. Looked simpler. Good, fitted shoes; knife with curved handle; or simply a traffic cone, painted in strip silver and bright orange. What was so hard to understand about those?

Thus people who appreciated the simple things were only certain kinds of people. People who were willing to recognize the discussion, the decision, and the design behind the existence of those simple things. The back and forth that birthed them. 

Took the curved handle of that knife for example. The handle facilitated grip. It decreased chance of slip, it ...ergonomic. A good knife wasn’t just sharp. It made the user less prone to accidents — to things that were not expected and should not have happened. Things that could be prevented. 

That was why they said the simple things’ charms only showed stark to three kinds of people. Those who take their time to smell a wildflower by the street and recognize the universe within it, those who had keen eyes, never dismissing a facet, a part of greater something to be things that ‘just there’, and the last ones. Those who owned open minds, safely tucked in knowing that people — yes, people always tried their best (or at least economically motivated to try their best so they could sell their things better than their competitors). Either way, he prided himself to be at least one of those three.

So as Lady Crystal was floating down from the used to be water-sky, displaying the third and building evidence that flesh was not an absolute requirement for life, his astonishment was not directed to her. Well, not wholly, her crystal-made skin and how her gleaming blue feet melded with the floating hexagonal ice platform was still a marvel. But his attention, his focus was more directed —more rapt toward the couch he and Clar were sitting on.

And why wouldn’t he? The couch for the lack of a better term was ...otherworldly. First and foremost, he could see — like see with his own eyes that the couch itself was made from water. Which should be a big wow factor in itself. But while the miraculous five seconds shapeshift-slash-molding was a feat in itself, the thing that wide-eyed him the most was the material. The couch how should he put it… both liquid and not. It was liquid, yes, but it was also solid. Solid that was not ice. At least not your typical 1h. If that was the case, his weight alone should be sufficient to create a crack that would progressively spread as the time passed. Yet, instead of fanning fissure puncturing his bottom, what he felt, what he was feeling when he sat — putting all his trust on the magical crystal clear block, was not a hard rigid solid. Instead, there was a push. Yes, a push. A pushback. Something that was only owned by elastic-type materials. He would say, the push — the bounciness was halfway between a bean waterbag and a felt-stuffed pillow. Which was a far cry from the cold freezing steele 1h was. 

Not to mention, the temperature. Unlike ice, it was warm. In fact it radiates warmth akin to that of a hot bath; thirty five to forty according to his [Lesser Temperature Read], well, thirty to forty if he wanted to be faithful to the ten-increment reading his skill was limited by, but the last five degree was obvious. He still had his own skin! And of course his skin could differentiate something that way below or a shy above his body temperature.

So while those who didn’t stop would look at the couch and its molding as simply ‘wow, magic’. For him, it much more than that. The existence was treasure troves of material, designs — a whole new world of application that almost looked reachable. Unlike the complicated things in front of him which were not. 

Of course, he could be you knew, seeing things. Again, illusions were a thing here. Or, or, his assumption could be simply wrong. That this clear layer was not in fact water, but you knew, resins. The clear one. The water was just used as stuffing while the resins were the ones that responsible for the odd physical properties. Possible, of course. Possible.

But when all thing considered, when he stared at Lady Crystal’s eyes that as deep as the starry sky itself, when he saw how frost layer literally formed on the ground she stood on, he, well, he decided he could at least try to believe. 

“Is this yours?”

“Ah?” he paused. W— was that what he thought it was? 

Yes! That was his erlenmeyer! 

Encased in a bubble, the crystal clear corked glass sudden appearance jolted him. Diverted his attention from the currently running risk-benefit analysis on whether he could get away firing at least one [Appraisal]. It took all of his power not to reach it and restuffed it to his inventory. Helpless, he shook his head. “No, Lady Crystal,” he said. “It’s not mine, not anymore.” 

“Apologies,” she said, her first syllable trawled. He didn’t really catch it, his attention was still diverted after all, but if he wasn’t wrong there was a hint of exasperation in there. 

“The question should be phrased with clearer denotation. Human Euca,”—she eyed him in the eyes, pointing at the bottle—“was the liquid which is contained within this particular bottle was formerly owned by you, human Euca?”

“...umm ...yes?”

“Was that an affirmation or a question? Please confirm, human Euca.”

“Ah, yes, yes. It used to be mine,” he said, nodding twice. “But it doesn’t matter, Lady Crystal,” he continued. “I gave it to the sprites as payment for bringing me across. It’s theirs.” 

“Acknowledged. Thank you, human Euca. However surely you realized that this liquid is special, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded — agreeing with her sentiment of being special. Although his version of special was mostly due to the fact that it required a glass vessel to be made. Which of course had been reduced by one right now... “Still... Clar’s safety is more important. Lady Crystal” he flashed a weak smile, tearing his eyes to stare at the ceiling, wisping to the cavernous dark that seemed to stretch forever. 

“For me, items are just that — items. What’s mattered is whether the item could be used for the right thing or not. So… while as it turned out that Clar was safe all along,”—he met her eyes back—“even a peace of mind is priceless, Lady Crystal.”

“Good, good. Good!” the grand elder? “Crystal, do tell us what the record says!” 

To be honest, when the water returned back to the pond, he thought he would see the twin with the grand elder. You knew, floating in the sky by the 10:30 position. Like where Crystal was. But as it turned out, the mysterious figure remained as a sound beside his ear.

“Eighty six recorded in our demesne, grand elder. Human Euca would be the eighty seventh.”

“Ah, just eighty seven? Human mages. So distrustful. What a little torn here and there between friends? Ask the water, call them back — mend the wound. What is there to be afraid of?”

“Not all humans capable to contain their own water, grand elder. The record showed that losses of more than thirty stones would lead to their death.”

“Ah yes. Their mortality. So tell me human… hmm, human...”

“Human Euca, grand elder.”

“Yes, yes. Human Euca, how did you bond with this child? We had not heard from our stonefriends for more than a thousand summers.”

“A thousand and seventy two summers, great elder.”

“Thank you, Crystal, that would be enough correcting for now.” the man sounded a bit miffed.

“Acknowledged, grand elder.”

“...human?”

“I—” Euca paused. His mind was racing. This particular conversation had been playing in the back of his mind since he and Clar entered this room. But up until now, he hadn’t found a good — he meant he could just lie, right? No, no. Not ...wise. 

“Five? Six? I don’t really remember. It was years — sorry, calendars ago...” he trailed, masking the pause as reminiscence where in fact his mind was pulling every shelf, scrounging every book and experience to wring a slapdash of broadest, doublespeak he could think of.

And he was failing.

The spark — the spark was there. It just, just a bit more, a bit more. He needed just a bit more. He pushed his face to school a mournful smile, a defeated nod. Come on, come on. Sympathy card? Hereditary-grandfather-grandson house sprite? What? What?! What should he — ah! The bulb flashed. The idea sparked. Good, he could do it but...

He needed five seconds.

First. He broke eye contact, casting his eyes on the girl. Second. He brushed her hair, lock by lock. Third. He pressed her shoulder, massaging it. Four. He sighed. Long one. And… five. He closed his eyes. His face smiling, his gaze ...saged, faking an acceptance. The answer — his answer was ready on his tongue.

“So three, four moons ago, I don’t remember exactly when, but I came to Ar’endal. It’s not my idea, It’s not what I want... But, often you have to do things that you don’t like so that in the end everything will be all right.” he smiled. “Life kind of funny that way.” 

“Ah, and no offense to the townfolk here of course! The town is great.” he shrugged. “The people are very helpful. I was helped. A lot. But,“—he drew a breath before exhaling it once more—“home is well, ...home.”

“So when there’s an opportunity for someone to help me with what should I do. I chose Clar. I mean I guess I could take anyone, but she was there, I knew her, so here we are. Together.”

Would that do? 

“Clear but with tang. It is not the entire truth.” 

Apparently not. He felt a sweat broke by his neckline, crawling down to his back. 

“But the bond is, grand elder.”

“Yes. It tasted like ...time. Time and trust. Not even truss. Just trust.” 

What did that even mean?

“Ah, but there is also guilt, determination, dedication — happiness? Hmm, that one is a tad fleeting. Recent. A spring rain. A broken wave. How it makes us wonders.” the man said. “What about the rest of the facets, Crystal?

“The weave is brimming grand elder. The thread is strong. It willed.”

“Is there any holes? Any frays?”

“Yes, but directed toward self.”

“Peculiar. How peculiar.”

“Honored grand elder, Lady Crystal,” he said, interrupting their back-and-forth. “If I might ask,” he eyed the erlenmeyer. “Could you tell us why you’re calling us here? Is this about the er— the mana-aspected water?”

“Mana-aspected water?? It is siren’s tear, human! How—how could you call Her blessing something so — so crass!”

“That would be the gift’s term, grand elder.”

“Of course it would be that slime term! Stop calling them the gift, Crystal! The gift, heh. More like the frit! Look at how it continued to monopolize the narrative even in our hall.”

“Unfortunately your request would require rewriting of eight hundred thousand twenty six hund—”

“Yes, yes, monumental task. You said it before. It is not an order, Gem! We just complaining. If the ancestor hadn’t — bah, forget it. Human!”

“Y—yes?”

“How did you get the siren’s water?!”

“Err…” he trailed. “I—I found it by the accident?” which was technically true.

“Not the entire truth, again. Fine! That after all how your kind had and always make bargain with the world.”

“I—I’m sorry, grand elder…” he said, sighing. He meant what should he even say? That he managed to make it himself by accident?

“But tell us, human Euca. You do know what you possess is special, right?”

“Yes, of course.” he nodded, at least there were seven things that he could try with it right off the bat. But well, it was done.

“Which was why we returned this to you.”

“Eh?” the bubble popped, revealing the erlenmeyer that slowly floated to the table, landing with a dampened tak. 

“This rascal overcharged you.” he could hear him sigh. “Even two drops for each of them was more than generous. Come! Come here you brat, had not we always tell you to be honest?”

“W—we thought, we got a good deal!” The brother! So they were beside the grand elder this whole time.

“And you, little devlet? You thought you got a good deal also?”

“N—no, grand elder. It—it…”

“It just what? You saw what your brother did, knew he did wrong, yet you decided not to intervene?”

“But the branches require it, grand elder! You know even with all that we had gave it. It just barely surviving.”

“...sigh. Child, you have a good intention…”

“G—grand elder?”

“But not a good heart! Ten summers on the seabloom’s duty!”

“T—ten summers? No! Anything but that, grand elder!”

“Yes! And for you brat!”

“Ugh…”

“You are to accompany your sister with the same punishment!”

“O—okay…”

“But since you are the initiator of this mess… for the rest of this and next two summers you are to confine yourself to the island. No more interacting with the mortal.”

“Nooo!!!” 

“It is decided. Record their punishment, Crystal.”

S—should he? Honestly, he wanted to help them if he could, talked it out, said that he didn’t mind that he was overcharged. But… it was a family thing. He didn’t have the right to meddle with how a grandparent taught their children. Well, except if it was abuse in which case, by God, he’d intervene. But that wasn’t what happening here. The punishment at most was a ...chore? Yeah, a chore and a time-out. And considering their lifespan ...well, it sounded fair. Why would he need to intervene on a fair thing that didn’t involve him? It wasn’t like he didn’t intervene because he wanted to keep his shiny, one of the few semi-volumetric, irreproducible things that existed in this freaking other world. No way. He wasn’t that low.

“Now that is done, human!”

“Y—yes?” he quickly lifted his head up, putting the erlenmeyer back to the table.

“Although they obtained it unfairly, they are not wrong in the sense that we do need the siren’s tear.”

“Of course, grand elder.” he sported a smile. “Like I said I didn’t— I mean, I’d be glad to give the jewel the siren’s tear.” he paused. “As a token of gratitude.” Phew, he stopped just in time there. God, he almost said that he didn’t mind, that the water was already theirs. What was he thinking? That’d slight the man’s decision! Implicating he didn’t respect the twin sprites’ punishment. And if there was one thing he was assured about this unseen spoken voice right beside his ear, it was the man loved to take offense.

“How generous. But that would not do. We had never, and would never require a charity. Human Euca do you have way to obtain more of the siren’s tear?

“I...” What should he say? Should he say no? But he knew the method. Even half truthing would only result that he was not sure. Looking at the Lady Crystal, suddenly he saw her eyes flash as the grand elder’s voice, echoed in his ear, rendering the terrible judgment. “We apologize, but this is important for us. Thus, we [Ask for The Truth].”

“Y—yes. I could.” What? What did he just say? ...oh. Oh freaking hell. Another negotiation skill! Would [Calm Emotion] worked? He frantically tried to construct the geometric in his mind.

“That is an offense, grand elder.”

“Yes. And it would be paid, Crystal. Human Euca.”

“...”

“Human Euca! You do not need to bother with that useless spell. The truth was necessary but that was it. We promise to not give you any more offense.”

“[Calm Emotion],” he whispered the spell regardless. At once his bubbling emotion that had been bursting like a pot of soup left simmering stilled. 

He felt it, the fog — the chain, the shield, the whatever. It pushed all his anger, his uncertainty, his fear down to the box of apathy. Would it help with the kind of skill that had just been shucked to him? Likely not, his mind assessed. From the name of the skill itself, it could be deduced that the skill didn’t affect emotion in the slightest. It just pushed the truth that he hid to the open. Even if he somehow bit his tongue, making himself unable to speak, he assured that the skill would find a way. Making him write the answer, for example. 

But it didn’t matter, he opened his eyes, his smile neutral. After all the point was to say that he would not accept more of their crap.. “And I apologize that I could not believe that, grand elder, Lady Crystal. But I don’t think I could believe that.“

“Shall we continue?”