The next morning, Reyoma and Ayaka embarked on their journey to the bustling merchant district, the sun casting its golden rays across the winding streets. Reyoma's steps were filled with a newfound sense of purpose, his anticipation palpable as he walked alongside his mother.
Reyoma, clad in a casual kimono, exuded an air of quiet determination, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Beside him, Ayaka moved with grace and purpose, her practical kimono adorned with a delicate veil that concealed her long, flowing locks.
As they walked, a comfortable silence enveloped them, the only sound the soft shuffle of their footsteps against the cobbled streets. Reyoma, breaking the tranquility, spoke stoically yet softly, his words carrying a weight of significance. "I have some questions that I want answers for," he said, his voice cutting through the air like a gentle breeze.
Ayaka, her veil swaying gently in the breeze, turned her attention to her son, her expression serene yet guarded. "I will try to answer all the questions I can," she replied, her voice a soothing melody amidst the bustling chaos of the district.
Reyoma, though inwardly apprehensive, pressed on, Hearing this, Reyoma wasn't reassured. He knew that his mother would only answer questions that she deemed important to him. She had always been this way, hiding the most obvious things from him and encouraging him to find answers on his own. Unsure if he would get his answer or not, he continued. "So, am I getting an invitation?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Ayaka's veiled visage. Without missing a beat, Ayaka responded, her voice steady and sure. "Yes," she replied simply, her words hung in the air.
Reyoma, controlling his emotions, was shocked. Not because his secretive mother answered him, but because he was confirmed that the biggest event of his life was on its way. However, he had already speculated this, so he easily got rid of other confusions.
As they passed beneath the towering flyover, Reyoma broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind. "Mother, is the stone you gave me a soul object?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Ayaka, her gaze fixed on the path ahead, nodded in affirmation. "Yes, it is a soul stone," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "But it is considered to be the least valuable of its kind."
Reyoma's brow furrowed in confusion as he mulled over her words. Before he could voice his thoughts, Ayaka interjected, her tone gentle yet firm. "Don't think that your mother has given you trash," she said, her words carrying a note of reassurance. "Let me explain what I gave you. It is indeed a soul stone, but what I meant by 'least valuable' is that it contains the least amount of pull to your soul. It cannot be activated by normal means, simply by keeping it close to your heart. However, it does have its uses. It will serve to reduce your mental and physical strain."
Reyoma absorbed her words, a sense of understanding dawning in his eyes. "So there must be other soul objects," Reyoma added in a questioning tone, his curiosity piqued.
Ayaka chuckled softly at her son's inquisitiveness. "You have grown to read between my words. Yes, indeed, there are other soul objects," she confirmed, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "There are soul ores, soul chunks, soul bars, polished soul bars, and refined soul bars."
Reyoma opened his mouth to inquire further, but before he could speak, Ayaka raised a hand to forestall him. "I know what you want to know, isn't it about what their use is?" she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "Be patient, Reyoma. Let me finish my words."
"These soul objects are used to extend the time you spend in your soul's world," Ayaka continued, her voice steady and sure. "You see, the time you spend in the soul's world and the time you spend in our world are different. It's a known fact that the time you spend in the soul's world always passes faster than the time you spend in our world."
Reyoma listened intently, absorbing every word his mother spoke. "And these objects are required not only to allow you to enter your heart but also to act as a timer for your stay in the soul's world," Ayaka explained. "Normally, a novice or apprentice will only need a soul ore. It's usually enough time to allow them to become seekers or defiled."
Reyoma nodded, processing the information. "But what will happen if the time runs out and the person is able to complete their task?".
Ayaka's expression grew somber as she responded, her voice tinged with gravity. "It is very rare for that to happen. Because before that happening the person will mostly be consumed by their inner demon or angel," she explained. "In such a scenario, the person will be instantly pulled out of their heart, resulting in the breaking of the soul objects and the shattering of their soul. Though the person may still exist physically, they will be dead internally. If I remember correctly, those people are called hollows."
"Since you've attended your first theory class and have come to know what seekers are, you must have a bit of knowledge already," she began, her voice warm and reassuring. "Let me tell you that I am a fire elementalist, as you have already seen from my insignia."
Reyoma nodded in understanding,"Even before knowing what seekers are, I already knew you had something to do with fire," he admitted.
Ayaka chuckled softly at her son's observation, her smile widening. "Because I use my hand to light the stove," she remarked playfully, a twinkle of mischief dancing in her eyes.
Reyoma mirrored her chuckle, his lips quirking into a small grin. "Because you use your hand to light the stove," he repeated.
Reyoma and Ayaka continued their stroll through the streets of the management district, their conversation light and easy, filled with the warmth of their bond. The empty streets gradually came to life as they approached the edge of the district, with people emerging from their homes and shops to go about their daily routines. Each person they passed bowed respectfully to Ayaka, acknowledging her status as an elder of the clan.
As Reyoma and Ayaka passed by the clothing store, they caught snippets of a conversation among the patrons inside.
"Look, it's Ayaka-sama and is that her son?" A lady whispered in a low tone, her voice barely audible over the bustling street.
"I heard that boy is a dark omen who led both his parents to death before he was born," the lady continued, her tone tinged with gossip and speculation.
"But you shouldn't say that, Yumi. What if they hear us?" An old man interjected, his voice filled with caution as he gently pulled the lady's cheek. "You are soon going to get married. I don't want any trouble for you. This is not something a mature lady should say."
Yumi huffed in response, her cheeks puffing up momentarily before she sighed and relented. "Okay, okay," she murmured, acknowledging the old man's wisdom with a resigned nod.
Reyoma and Ayaka came upon an old yet magnificent building on the left side of the road. A wooden nameplate affixed to the wall bore the inscription "Kishima's Smithing" in bold characters. The building, though not particularly tall, commanded attention with its expansive width. Rows of windows lined its façade, allowing sunlight to stream into the interior. Many of the windows were open, offering glimpses of the activity within.
Ayaka paused in front of the building. Reyoma's gaze wandered over the structure, taking in its impressive architecture and the flurry of movement visible through the open windows. He turned to his mother, a question forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Ayaka placed a gentle hand on his arm and gestured towards the entrance. "Shall we take a look inside?".
Hearing the commotion at the entrance of his workshop, Kishima turned his head, setting aside the dagger he had been supervising his employee crafting. The short, stout man with a bushy beard and streaks of white in his aging black hair quickly made his way to the entrance, his fleshiness and robust health evident even in his hurried movements.
As Kishima approached anticipating a customer, he cast a curious glance at Ayaka, who was gesturing for Reyoma to enter ahead of her. It was a rare occurrence for an elder to visit his smithing shop, despite his popularity in the area. Though Kishima was well-known for his craftsmanship, there were more prestigious armories that had previously supplied weapons to the elders.
Confusion mingled with curiosity in Kishima's expression as he greeted Ayaka with a respectful bow. "Elder Ayaka, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" he inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a hint of apprehension.
"Lead the way" said ayaka in a rather chilingly cold tone, Reyoma seeing his mother's domineer change so drastically got an image of her of how she maintains herself as an elder.
Kishima smiled as he gestured for Ayaka to come inside, only to be met with her cold gaze, piercing right into his eyes.
Ayaka's cold demeanor sent a shiver down Kishima's spine, he quickly complied with her command and led the way, his steps hurried and his voice subdued. The intimidating aura emanating from Ayaka made Kishima wary of engaging in unnecessary conversation, and he chose to maintain a respectful silence as they traversed through the bustling smithing area.
The clang of metal on metal echoed through the workshop as blacksmiths hammered daggers and swords into shape, their faces glistening with sweat in the intense heat. The temperature in the smithing area was stifling, causing beads of sweat to drip from the brow of every worker, their movements precise and focused despite the uncomfortable conditions.
Kishima led Ayaka and Reyoma through the labyrinth of his bustling workshop, weaving between busy artisans and rows of unfinished weapons. The air was heavy with the scent of heated metal and burning coal, creating an atmosphere charged with the energy of creation and craftsmanship. Finally, they emerged from the smithing area into the section of the building where armors and weapons were displayed for sale, the air noticeably cooler and the noise of the workshop fading into the background, as the doors to the smithing area shut.
"Who were those people that made our always-yapping boss so silent?" asked the man, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Don't know, but that woman seems older than the boy. She must be his elder sister," replied the person sharpening the blade, his focus unwavering as he continued his task.
"They must be rich. They both looked so beautiful," chimed in another worker, taking a moment to sit down on a nearby bench.
"Yeah, especially that woman. Did you guys see how she walked? Her bosom was moving up and down as well," added a third worker from across the smithy, his tone filled with interest.
"You guys are definitely going to die if she hears that. Do you even know who she is?" cautioned a middle-aged man who had just arrived to replace the supervising duty.
"Some rich princess from one of Machito's concubines," speculated the man who had been resting from quenching, with slightly mocking face.
"Sigh, she is Elder Ayaka," the middle-aged man corrected them, his tone solemn.
At the mention of Ayaka's name, the workers exchanged wary glances, realizing the gravity of their conversation. They newcomers to the clan from outskirt villages, as the people who lived in the place ruled by Elder Ayaka they had heard rumors of Ayaka's reputation, and the realization made them uneasy. Without speaking further, they returned to their work, their movements a little more cautious than before.
"Morons," muttered the middle-aged man under his breath, shaking his head at their ignorance.