It is the brink of light; the dim sunlight enters the windows slanted.

Scyld Siluvar sits at the dinner table, munching on bread with newspaper in hand. He is dressed impeccably as always, with his cane hanging off the table ledge.

 

“How is the tea? Have you flavored it yet?” He asks the old butler to pour him a dark liquid from a teapot.

 

“Of course not sir, I never do.” Oliver replies with a hint of displeasure, “I do believe this is the first time you’ve raised concern regarding my brewing abilities however. What was not to your liking last time?”

 

Scyld lightly chuckles, he places down his newspaper. “No, no, you misunderstand. The batch of tea I’ve asked you to steep has deep origins. It was bought when the Siluvar Steel was first founded, with the first few soli that the company made. I’ve long forgotten what type of tea it is, but I’m sure the years of aging have done it well.”

 

Oliver pauses for a moment, “A special occasion sir?”

 

“Haha, indeed it is so, old friend.” The gentleman lifts up his cane, and in an instant, a silver teacup forms on the handle. “Please, I insist.”

 

“It’s clean.” Scyld adds, seeing the butler reach out his hand then hesitate.

 

Carefully pouring himself a cup, Oliver takes a sip.

 

“Rich flavoring, a mellow, yet complex aroma; an exceptional tea, sir.”

 

“Is that so…” Hearing such reassuring words, Scyld smiles. He inhales deeply, savoring the enchanting aroma. And with a tranquil sigh, he shuts his eyes and lifts the steaming cup to his lips

 

"Oh my," the butler's voice pierced through the peaceful ambiance, and the tea is set down with a ripple appearing on its once serene surface.

 

The gentleman looks in the direction of the disturbance: A ghastly display.

 

Her pale face resembled a blotted canvas with smudged makeup covering it. The circles under her eyes appeared to be an extension of her dark pupils, but it was her hair that was truly striking. The strands of hair stuck out in various directions, they seemingly repelled each other.

 

“Allow me to excuse myself,” Sensing the imminent deluge, the butler excuses himself, not forgetting to bring the unfinished cup of tea with him.

 

“Your hair…” Sycld couldn’t help but comment. This was a strange display, even for Stelle.

 

“Soli.” She mumbles.

 

Her voice snaps him out of his gawking. He reaches inside his suit jacket and retrieves a thin, translucent, milky-white coin. It’s tossed to Stelle who catches it out of the air without looking.

 

The translucent coin in her hand faintly glows as it gradually disappears. Stelle takes a deep breath. As she exhaled, the energy in her hair dissipated, and the strands slowly settled back into a smooth and orderly arrangement. Her ruined make-up however, stayed hideous as ever.

 

“What was that about my hair?” She snarls with a hint of annoyance.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

Stelle clicks her tongue and takes a seat opposite to her father. Without taking off her gloves, she begins wolfing down whatever food was placed on the table like a starved animal.

 

"When... was the last time you slept?" Scyld asks with a concerned tone.

 

"You know when." Stelle mumbles, her mouth full of bread.

 

"More than three days ago?" Scyld furrows his brows with worry. "My dear daughter, you must rest! Sleep is the best way to pacify the soul!"

 

"Uh huh. Anything else?"

 

"I've never seen you wear make-up before. What is the point behind all this? Surely, you needn't--"

 

"Bastard," Stelle snorts as she swipes the teapot from Scyld's side. "You're the one who taught me the importance of maintaining one's image." She pours herself a cup of the black liquid. "Fuck. No coffee?"

 

Scyld wryly smiles, "Well, I must thank you for overseeing our burdensome guest. Your efforts have paid off. That tea was made with..." His voice trails off as he realizes that Stelle isn't listening to him at all.

 

Reaching inside of her suit jacket, Stelle produces a folder and hands it to her father.

 

"What's this?"

 

"The reason why I didn't sleep last night." Finishing her cup of tea in one go, Stelle began chugging straight from the teapot.

 

Skimming through the densely packed folder, he finds drawings of formations from a strand he couldn't recognise, figures of strange contraptions he couldn't decipher, alongside numerous sheets filled with his daughter's penmanship.

 

"This is...?"

 

"Evidence for an undiscovered strand." Stelle says between her gulps.

 

He takes one last look at the drawings. "What?"

 

The now empty teacup is placed down. "Your contractee was responsible for its discovery. I just wrote the report." Stelle continues, wiping her mouth with a sleeve.

 

Scyld blinks. Rubbing his forehead with his cane, he blinks again. "What?"

 

"If it's recognised to be a new strand, he says you can take credit for it. All he wants in return is a tour of Sucrease Hall." Snatching away her father's cup of tea, she chugged it down in front of him. Scyld watched aimlessly as the rest of the celebratory drink was devoured before him.

 

"What?"

 

"I'm taking a shower." Stelle begins walking towards her room. "I've left everything in the workshop. Ask Rene if you have any questions."

 

Her footsteps jolted Scyld out of his motionless state. "I-I can't take credit for someone else's discovery, i-it conflicts with my character..."

 

Her father's whines made Stelle pause. Turning around, "Do whatever you want then." She rolled her eyes and continued walking.

 

"W-Wait--" Scyld's stammering made her pause once more. "Did you enjoy the tea?"

 

"It was shit."

********

Rene realized something as he woke up today: His memory was too good.

Recreating the generator’s blueprint, and the generator itself working on the first try. How many times had he even seen the original blueprint? This was something he had never studied.

Either way, it was abnormal. He should have noticed it earlier, but recalling the generator’s blueprint felt so natural it must have slipped his mind.

His first suspect was immediately the ‘echo’. The superpower granted to him by the red lights. He ran a test.

3.1415926… Hmm, I can actually remember more than 5 digits of pi, so it seems that the echo affects my mind as well. So not only does it allow me to recreate prior actions, but I can recall prior memories as well. Does this mean I have a perfect memory now? Sigh, if only I had this during grad school.

There was a knock on the door. Opening it, Rene was greeted by Oliver carrying a small rectangular package.

“Mr. Rene, your ID formation arrived today.” The butler hands Rene the box. “There should be two formations inside. One is for you to carry on your person, the other is for me to send back to the ministry. Shall I wait outside your door?”

“Uh, wait, what does it need me to do?.”

“The process is similar to when you signed Sir Siluvar’s contract. Simply drip a droplet of your blood onto the outer ring.”

“Oh, ok.” Bringing the package to his desk he opened it to find two sleek black cards, engraved upon each was a formation. The traces in the center were filled out with some type of red crystal-like material. The etching for the outer ring however was empty. It seemed that he was supposed to drip his blood here.

This called for his trusty metal spike; bringing it out, Rene stabbed his poor finger once more so that the outer rings for both cards were colored in red.

Just like when he signed the contract, absolutely nothing happened. Disappointed, he wipes off the excess blood and reopens the door.

“Did I do it right?” Rene asks, handing the cards to Oliver.

Oliver studies the cards for a moment. “I believe so… There must be fault with the cards themselves.”

“Something’s wrong with the cards?”

“Indeed, sir. Once the formations absorb the essence within your blood, they’re supposed to disappear.”

And if they don’t disappear, it means that my blood has no essence… Hold on, they’re assuming my blood is magical! Maybe that’s the case for everyone else, but as someone from Earth…

“Not to worry sir, once I ship the faulty cards back to the ministry, they’ll send out another pair.” Oliver points towards the small black box on Rene’s desk. “Now, if you’d kindly retrieve the package they originally came in, I can–”

“Wai- wait- wait, I’m an… Artharian… from outside Aphelion. How can you be sure that these cards are malfunctioning when they might not work on me in the first place?”

“Sir, be assured that the issues you speak of have been resolved years ago when the first Lustrians became permanent residents of Cessa. It is certainly the cards that are at fault.”

Ah.

This was the end. It was sheer folly to think he could blend into a magical, alien society. The fact he was confused for an Artharian was a miracle in itself. Perhaps he could be considered lucky lasting this long already.

I signed that contract didn’t I? I wonder if it will hold once they discover I’m not actually their version of ‘human’.

“And there can be no other possibility?” Rene threw out his pathetic last ditch attempt at changing his fate.

“Could you be trying to allude to something sir?”

"Ah– no, no, of course not," Rene stammered as he swiveled around and walked towards his desk. "L-let me get the box for you."

Considering that they wouldn’t let me out of prison without filling out the identification papers, the ID formation those identification papers are used for is probably mandatory as well. It’ll be a week tops before they figure out I’m not actually Artharian.

Shit. What should I do? Go back to prison?

“Mr. Rene.”

A voice from behind stopped Rene dead in his tracks. A shiver went down his spine as he slowly turned around in pure horror. “Yes?”

The butler was as expressionless as ever, “I seem to have recalled something. If you’d excuse me for a moment, allow me to fetch Miss Siluvar. As a rank 3 sourcerer, she may just have the insight to resolve our issue within the day.”

Why did you suddenly change your mind?

Rene unconsciously nodded, the butler followed with a bow, and the door was closed in his face.

Ah.

He didn’t mean to do that.

********

Rene was now sitting in the carriage with Stelle in the driver’s seat. Why? Apparently, there was a “hidden conflict between his blood and the cards”, and that they had to visit a “blood merchant” to diagnose the issue.

The ordeal was overtly ill-omened, even more so after Stelle told him he had to be there in person. Was he being suspected of something? Either way, he had no good reason to refuse going there.

“We’re here.” Stelle announced as Rene felt the carriage’s momentum stop.

Peering outside, he saw that they had arrived beside an obtusely red storefront. ‘Blood and more Blood’ written in black, bold lettering decorated a sign hanging above a door.

Not ominous at all.

Donning his silver hat, he entered with Stelle; the door jingled as it was pushed open.

Immediately, an intense stench of blood assaulted his senses. Rene’s face twisted as he covered his nose. Looking around, the source of the smell was rather obvious: among the shelves of red powders and crystals, large vats filled with blood of various shades were embedded within the walls.

“Just a moment! I’ll be with you right away!” A voice echoed from a door at the back of the store amid a series of grunts and gasps.

“Merlot, did you receive my message?” Stelle replied.

“Ah! Stelle!” A blonde haired lady popped her head out from behind the door frame, “Yea I got it just– I still need a moment!” Her head vanished as quickly as it appeared, followed by the clamor of falling objects and whispers of “Get in!” and “Go back in the cage!”

Seeing that their host was currently occupied by typical blood merchant things, Rene took the chance to ask some questions, “Does this place sell blood?”

“It does.” Stelle casually replies while inspecting the shelves.

Blood is used to draw formations, which power this entire city. I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Then, who’s blood is it?”

“It’s–”

“I’m done!!” Merlot the store owner loudly exclaimed as she emerged from the backdoor wearing a black apron stained with blood. “I assume this is the Artharian you mentioned?” She says, pointing to Rene.

Stelle crosses her arms, “Merlot, don’t be rude. He’s a business partner.”

“My bad, my bad.” Apologizing in between chuckles, Merlot walks up to Rene and holds out a hand. “Merlot, just Merlot. Nice to meet you.”

Accepting the handshake, Rene relied in turn: “I-I’m Rene, hello.”

The handshake lasted for an awkwardly long 10 seconds. Rene tried to end it, but Merlot wouldn’t let go. Instead, she leaned ever closer to his face while Rene arched his back to stay away.

Finally, she relents. “A real Artharian… I suppose it would make sense why you’d choose to wear that hat. Is your hair blue as well?”

“Merlot.” Stelle frowns.

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” Merlot apologizes, scratching her head. “Just one more question, is Arthas really a giant octopus?”

“Merlot!”

“Right! right! I’ll go get the thing!” Merlot says while rushing back into the backdoor.

“I—apologize for that. Merlot and I are friends from back in school. Despite her personality, I can attest she’s a talented sourcerer.” Stelle explains from the side.

“O-oh, I see.” Rene steadies his hat. “What’s the ‘thing’ she said she was going to bring?”

“It’s a device that will be able to measure the essence in your blood. As you know, different strands conflict, some more than others. While the identification formation is normally able to account for most of these conflicts, an exotic combination might not be factored for. If we’re able to figure out what is in your blood, we should be able to design a working identification formation for you.”

Bloody hell, I’m getting buried deeper and deeper by this misunderstanding.

“What if my blood just has no essence in it? That would also explain why the ID formation doesn’t activate right?” Rene asked.

His question caused Stelle to give a rare chuckle. “Hehe, of course, but such an outcome would also be impossible.”

If only you knew…

“Why is that?”

“Because that would require you to not have a soul. And the very fact that we’re conversing at the moment means that you have the drive, the will, to talk and respond. How could a will be without a soul?”

A will… free will? Like to make decisions? Well, it seems like the additional requirement to having a soul is being born on this planet.

“Found it! I finally found it!” A familiar voice resonated from the abyss of the backdoor, Merlot came rushing out carrying a strange contraction.

It had a rectangular base with a spherical indent in the center. Within the indent, there was also a black ball inscribed with numerous small red figures. The ball was too small to fill the indent however, it rolled around when Merlot placed it at the front desk.

From her pocket, Merlot then took out a white coin and slotted it into a slit on the device. Like an arcade machine, the device jumped to life. The ball in the center began levitating as the red figures carved on it somehow glowed a brilliant blue light.

“An essence decipherer made especially for blood, it works when you add a drop of your blood on the ball.” Stelle introduced the machine before Rene could ask.

“And I’ve got just the thing you need, Mr. Artharian!” Merlot added as she took out one of those blood harvester spikes from her back pocket and placed it in front of Rene.

“Is this thing sanitized?” Rene, in the face of a metal spike of dubious origins, postulated a reasonable inquiry.

“Sa-na-tised?” Stelle and Merlot both asked at the same time.

Their response made Rene realize something horrific:

Jesus Bloody Christ, there’s no translation for sanitize.

Thankfully, and he could not express this enough, Rene had pierced his finger this morning; by squeezing his barely healed wound, a drop of red liquid fell upon the ball.

The room became silent as the two women leaned close to observe the motionless ball.

30 seconds pass before Stelle speaks: “I’ve never seen one of these machines in play, how exactly do they work?”

“Umm, not like this. It's supposed to absorb the blood.” Merlot replied while prodding the ball with her finger, causing it to slowly spin in the air. “C’mon, do something.”

More time passes, and without speaking, Stelle crosses her arms.

“I’ve recently refurbished the formations, but it—should be fine… Yea, it should be alright.” Grabbing the ball off of its pedestal, Merlot wipes off Rene’s blood with her apron. Next, she placed it back and released a drop of her own blood with her hemostylus.

The blood was absorbed as soon as it made contact, and the ball began to spin sporadically as it was possessed. The spinning quickly began to calm down after that initial jolt of energy, and like a weighted die, the ball rolled back and forth and fell into a specific orientation.

“See?” Merlot exclames, pointing towards the carved figure the ball landed on, “Strand of water; it works.”

“How do you explain what just happened? A hidden conflict?” Stelle asked.

“Probably not, the machine deciphers based on the conflict between strands. As you know, similar strands interfere with each other less relative to than—say a strand on the opposite end of the spectrum. The strand of water, for example, reacts violently with fire for example, but not so much with the strand of ice.”

Merlot continued her explanation: “That’s essentially the principle this thing works off of. As the ball spins, it’s collecting information on how the unknown strand interacts with a series of known strands. And depending on this data, it’s able to narrow down the possibilities and eventually produce an answer.”

“However,” Placing a finger on her chin, Merlot continues. “The fact that the machine didn’t react at all means it couldn’t sense any essence to begin with.”

Ah, they got me. Rene, who had been turning his head between the two women like a water sprinkler inwardly shook his head. His run was finally over.

“I see what you mean,” Stelle gave a small nod, “There must be a conflict between the unknown strand and blood itself.”

What?

“There is another possibility, Resplen–” Merlot took a glance at Rene as she cut herself off. “Uh, Aspeiral Monad Resplendent Paradise didn’t only cultivate the strand of life.”

“Of course… the strand of Annula.” Stelle spewed out a completely non-obvious answer. “If the essence of phenomenon is annulled, there would be no conflict.”

What in the world… Rene lamented inwardly as he witnessed two women reach the wildest conclusions. The lengths these people will go to avoid the simplest explanation…

Suddenly, he felt something brush against his leg.

The size of a large dog, it was a creature with a body akin to a bloated sausage; four tiny, useless limbs dotted its sides, wiggling and squirming as if possessed by some unseen force. Its pale, translucent looked sickly thin as the countless red veins and blood vessels pulsed incessantly. The creature had a face resembling that of a swine, only with a tendril-like snout like an insect’s proboscis, and its eyes: Black and soulless orbs that seem to gaze unblinkingly into the very depths of one's being.

Rene leaped away from it with a shriek, colliding with Stelle who had been standing beside him. Thanks to her timely grip of the front desk they maintained balance over crashing into the vats of blood.

“Wine! You shouldn’t be here!” Merlot jolted to the other side of the front desk, and picked up the worm-like creature amidst its high pitched grunts and tiny flailing arms. While in the process of delivering the creature to the room in the back, Merlot catches a glimpse of Rene’s expression and reacts with a smile.

“Are trimmers not native to Arthas? Ah, nevermind, you needn’t answer.” Merlot says with a chuckle as she fades into the back door.

“Trimmer…” Rene mutters to himself.

“You asked where all this blood came from earlier, yes? I suppose you have your answer.” Stelle's voice came from behind him.

“What? From that one… thing?”

“No, no,” Stelle spoke while straightening her suit jacket, “Most of the blood in the vats come from mundane, farm trimmers. Wine is abnormally intelligent, he only produces high quality products.” She picked up a jar of red crystals from the wall labeled ‘Crystalised Trimmer Blood: Rank 1.98’ and showed it to Rene. “Like this. Post refinement of course.”

“Intelligent?”

“Aye, blood is what’s known as a ‘dynamic’ substance, meaning essence can flow through it. And excluding rank, the quality of blood, or how dynamic it is, generally scales with intelligence.” Stelle says, placing back the jar of red crystals.

“Well, sorry about that. I didn’t get to walk him yesterday, he’s rather unruly today.” Merlot once again emerged from the back, this time shutting the door behind her.

She turned to Rene with a smile, “So, what do you think of my prized pet? Cute, ain’t he?”

“I-I suppose so..”

Then she faced Stelle, “Whatever the possibility, I’m afraid I can’t help you any further. I recommend looking for something within the soul itself.”

“I had the same idea.” Reaching into her suit pocket, Stelle pulls out a milky white coin. It was the same size as the one Merlot had slotted into the machine, but unlike that coin which was opaque as marble, this one was semi translucent. She places it on the front counter, “For your troubles.”

“Oh wow! A Soli! How very posh of you, miss Siluvar~” Merlot pushed the coin back to Stelle with a hearty chuckle, “Don’t you have any smaller change?”

Stelle reacted by immediately digging around in her pockets.

“Joking! I was joking!” A hand was placed on Stelle’s shoulder as Merlot continued to laugh, “Hardly a waste of my time, it’s not everyday you see someone akin to your business partner.” She then flashed a thumbs up to Rene, who responded with an awkward smile.

“I see.” Stelle pocketed the coin, and turned to leave. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait! Wait! I know where you’re headed; there’s a closer place. Lemme write it down for you.” Taking out a slip of paper from underneath the front desk, she frantically wrote on it with her hemostylus.

“Beside Ulai’s fountain?” Stelle asks, upon reading the note.

Ulai’s fountain? That’s the location of the first red light!

“They opened recently.” Merlot clarified.

“I see, thank you.”

Pocketing the note, the duo left the store amidst the waves and the ‘bye-bye!’s of the owner.

“Ulai’s plaza isn’t far from here, it’s more convenient to walk instead.” Stelle explained.

Rene didn’t intend to refuse going there. He nodded in return.

Despite the fact that Stelle was literally taking him to a place that would reveal his alien identity, such a thing was inevitable anyways; he might as well not delay it any further. Also, if there’s anything his recent experiences have taught him, it’s that they’ll come up with some crazy explanation instead of the fact that he’s an alien.

Plus, revisiting Ulai’s fountain wasn’t a bad idea, perhaps he could find something that he missed the first time around.

“What was that thing you tried to give Merlot? She called it a ‘Soli’?” Now out of earshot of any listeners, Rene took the opportunity to ask the questions only a dumb amnesiac would have.

Stelle took out the translucent white coin and handed it to Rene, “Aye, Soli are one of the coins we use as currency. They’re ranked third in value, being worth ten Shards or one-tenth of a Solda. At the very top are Rounds, which are equivalent to one hundred Solda each.”

Rene was taken aback.

One hundred?? Jesus, how much did Mr. Siluvar spend on my bail? If Shards are equivalent to a dollar each, then a Round would be worth ten grand. Christ, and he spent ten Rounds…

Rene inspected the coin in his hand, there were no markings on its perfectly smooth exterior, and its texture and color resembled that of a white colored stained glass. Would this not be easy to counterfeit?

“What is it made of?”

“True essence in crystal form. It’s a special type of essence that doesn’t conflict with anything. That’s why we use it as currency, from powering formations to supplying one’s cultivation, it’s a universal resource with no shortage of demand.”

“True essence doesn’t conflict with anything?” Rene asked, handing Stelle back the coin.

“It doesn’t saturate your blood, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Stelle gave her reply. “True essence doesn’t conflict with anything because it’s the fusion of all strands in perfect harmony—in which all the individual conflicts between strands cancel each other out. That’s why true essence is only found in nature; only nature, as the source of all knowledge, is able to weave using the infinite strands that constitute our world.”

I’m afraid the profoundness of that statement is lost on me. But what I’m getting at is that this currency has intrinsic value and can’t be counterfeited? That’s pretty cool.

“This is why the coins have different shades: they contain different concentrations of true essence. Shards are the least valuable, and only consist of a fraction of a fraction of true essence. That’s why they’re completely opaque, they’re filled with impurities.”

“As the concentration of true essence increases, the coin also becomes more transparent. Soli contains ten times the concentration of true essence compared to Shards, and they merely look translucent, like a foggy window. Solda, with ten times more the concentration, appears as clear as glass or ice.”

“At the very top are Rounds, they don’t reflect or refract light, nor do they transmit sound when you strike them. The only way to know if there’s a Round in front of you is to try and feel for it, they’re fundamentally undetectable otherwise.”

“Are Rounds made of 100% true essence then? It doesn’t go any higher right?” Rene asked.

“Rounds contain the highest possible concentration of true essence in crystal form. Any higher and they’d completely fade away into the aether and be lost upon us forever.” Stelle replied.

“What? You can’t see or feel true essence on its own? How is it harvested from nature?”

“True essence is always mined in an impure state, trying to harvest true essence by its lonesome is impossible. It’s not only invisible and untouchable, the essence woven of all strands is unknowable, unfathomable… transcendent.”

“That reminds me,” Stelle suddenly pauses in her steps, “Ulai’s plaza is a pretty crowded place, it’s easy for us to get separated.”

How on Earth did you manage to form that connection?

With a twist of the wrist and a flick of the finger, Stelle’s gloved hands briefly flashed a light as a coin appeared in her palm. The coin was silver, like the ones Rene used to know.

“Hold it up to your ear,” Stelle inserted once Rene received the coin.

“Like this?” Rene did as he was told, bringing the coin up to his ear.

“Yes, like that.” The coin vibrated, and a response arrived in the form of a faint buzz. It was hardly high definition audio, but Rene could at least make out the words.

A phone? A coin phone?

“It also works the other way around, try folding it.”

Fold?

Despite its metal appearance, the coin was quite easy to fold, even with one hand. There was some resistance at first, but after applying some pressure, the coin was quickly snapped to a 90 degree angle. The whole process felt like opening or closing a flip phone.

“Now when you speak into it, I’ll also be able to hear.” Stelle said with a smile, tapping the earring on her right ear.