"Let's start with a pocket watch. Where can I find a good one?" Irina asked, turning to the poet with a hopeful look.
"Let's go to a shop that sells them," Leonard replied.
No kidding, Sherlock. I wanted to buy it at a bakery. What kind of advice is that?!
"But I don't want just any random one. A silver one would match my future wardrobe best," she insisted, feeling the excitement build.
I want to wear silver accessories, mostly because it's cheaper than gold, and plain metal sounds boring.
"You're going out with Madam Daly tomorrow, right?" Leonard said, trying to keep the conversation flowing.
Correct! I can't wait!
"That's right! I just adore her style, especially that navy blue and black combination," Irina gushed.
"Isn't she just dressed like a spirit medium? What's so special about it?" Leonard asked, unimpressed.
Fair enough, but I just like the blue and black combo. I also aspire to be as easy-going as her; she's essentially my role model, such a girlboss.
"Aren't you also dressed like a poet? Is it some kind of trend?" Irina hinted at the acting method.
Leonard turned to her, confusion furrowing his brow. "What do you mean?"
"Dressing up as your potion's name," she replied with a teasing grin.
Leonard immediately looked away, blurting, "Not really, no—"
Is he embarrassed? I don't get it. What emotion is he feeling right now? Ugh! Why am I blind to those types of things?!
"How should I dress as a bookworm? Perhaps with glasses? Let's go and see them too. Maybe I'll find a pair I like."
"Sure, at this point, might as well do everything today," Leonard agreed, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
As they strolled from shop window to shop window, Irina and Leonard chatted about everything and nothing. At first, Irina teased the poor poet relentlessly, but soon he began to return the favor, steering their conversation to various topics. She didn't seem to mind the shift.
"Doesn't that one match your description perfectly?" Leonard pointed at an intricately decorated silver pocket watch with a blue gem inlaid in the center.
Irina moved closer to the display window, her eyes wide with delight. "It looks perfect! I wonder if the price is too."
The two Nighthawks entered the shop, but before they could continue their search, a colorfully dressed shop assistant approached them.
I remember that male assistants used to wear colorful clothes to distinguish themselves from their employers, who typically dressed in white and black. The complete opposite can be said for women; maids and female workers wore black and white, while the upper-class donned beautifully colorful gowns.
The assistant's eyes flicked from Leonard to Irina, quickly scanning her before returning to Leonard.
"How may I help this lovable couple this fine evening?" the assistant asked, a smile plastered on his face.
"We're n—" Leonard began.
Irina threw her body to the left, crashing into him, effectively cutting him off while earning a confused look from the employee.
"I'm looking for a silver pocket watch. You have one in your display window with a blue gem, and it's a perfect match for what I was searching for," Irina declared, her tone enthusiastic.
After a brief pause, the assistant nodded. "I can get it for you right away. Would you like to check some more pocket watches in the meantime? Perhaps you'll find something you like more. Right across this section, there are a couple of silver and metal pocket watches."
He led them to the mentioned section before leaving them to browse. Irina waited until he was out of earshot before speaking to Leonard in a hushed tone.
"You didn't notice, did you?" she whispered.
Leonard followed her lead, lowering his voice. "He looks a bit cold and only talks to me; is that what you mean? He could be a believer of the Lord of the Storm."
"Yeah, that too. The problem lies mostly with what I'm wearing. Even the receptionist at the library thought I was some kind of beggar. I mean, I get that my clothes are old and torn, but I'm way too clean for that!"
Leonard's eyes widened as he began to understand the situation.
"So that's why you wanted me to come with you?" He asked, realization dawning on him.
Partially. I mainly wanted to make some friends, you specifically, dear poet. I hope I'm not messing it up somewhere.
"I wasn't in the mood to explain myself again to who knows how many employees, so I simply took the first sacrifice with me," she confessed.
"I under— sacrifice?!"
Just then, the assistant returned with an open box containing the pocket watch. He looked toward Leonard and asked, "Have you found something else to your liking?"
Here we go again.
Irina stepped closer to Leonard, answering the assistant's question, which was clearly meant for the poet, "Sadly not. The one you have right there is what I'm interested in. If it's in good condition, I'd like to purchase it. May I check it shortly?"
The assistant slowly turned to her, bringing the box closer without a word.
How rude.
Irina held the pocket watch in her hands, slowly rotating it as she examined it closely. When she opened it, she was pleasantly surprised to find a small white picture on the left side. Her reaction caught the poet's attention, and he stepped closer, peeking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the accessory's insides.
That's so cool! I can put a small photo inside! I don't know whose photo it would be, but it's still a nice feature to have. The clock is also very pretty; it's surprisingly well-decorated with incredibly fine details. She thought with excitement.
"Does it please you, Mister?" The assistant asked.
Irina's annoyance flared. Seriously? I'm the one checking it, and you're asking Leonard?!
"Yes, it does," she replied, her tone slightly irritated. "I'll buy it."
He had handed it to her, yet he still asked Leonard for confirmation. The Victorian era better not be full of sexist people, or else I'm not sure I'll survive without castrating all of them, she thought, shaking her head.
Handing the pocket watch back to the employee, she indicated she was ready to proceed with the purchase. As the two Nighthawks headed for the cashier's desk, Irina pulled out her old, worn wallet. The cashier and the assistant exchanged surprised glances at the sight.
Ignoring their stares, Irina quickly paid for the watch. Just as she was about to take the box from the desk, a loud growl resonated throughout the shop. Once again, it was Irina's stomach.
Kill me now, I'm ready for my death, she gladly welcomed her demise.
With a smile, the cashier said, "You two have a nice evening. I'm sure the search must have been arduous, so please enjoy a fine dinner together."
"Well—"
Oh no! Don't ruin it all now! I'm not spending a single extra second in this shop! Irina thought, grabbing the poet's arm and dragging him to the door. "You are absolutely right, Sir! This young one over here must definitely pay for my dinner. We should get going now, right, Leo?"
"I hope you have a wonderful evening! Please take care and come again!" The assistant called out.
Once again, he's just talking with Leonard. It's so obvious! He keeps glancing at his face without even looking in my direction, as if I'm not even here, Irina fumed.
"I better hope not! Goodbye, unpleasant character and ordinary cashier!" She shouted back, relishing in the shocked expressions on their faces. That's nothing compared to what you should get for being so disrespectful.
The two Nighthawks managed to leave the shop and walk a few meters away before either employee could react. After a while, Leonard broke the silence. "I didn't think you'd say that after what you told me."
Irina slowed her pace, glancing sideways at him. "I mean, you're right, but it just came from the heart. Hopefully, I won't see those two disrespectful characters again. If I do, and they still act like that, my words will be the last of their problems. They called me crazy for years; I don't see anything wrong with behaving like one."
Leonard turned his gaze toward the street, replying thoughtfully, "I guess that makes sense, but you're not crazy, and you shouldn't think of yourself that way. Especially as a Beyonder, you need to maintain good mental health to avoid losing control."
Jokes on you, my mental health was never good to begin with.
"Oh right, you'll start taking lessons with Old Neil tomorrow to learn all of those things," Leonard said, remembering the previous conversation. "As for now, let's just go to a nice restaurant to put something in that hungry stomach of yours. There's one close to where I live, and it's pretty good."
Irina raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Close to where you live? My, my, I didn't know you wanted to take things this fast."
Leonard stumbled over his words, clearly startled. "What?! No! It just happens to be there, that's all!"
"Come on! I was just joking. You should know by now. Anyway, I hope the prices aren't too high; that pocket watch was expensive, and I left most of my remaining money at home."
"That shouldn't be a problem; I planned on paying anyway," Leonard said, shrugging off her concern.
"Wait, really? I was just saving face there, you know. There's no reason for you to pay," Irina replied, surprised.
"Don't think too much about it. As for the price, it's not even that high," Leonard assured her.
Irina feigned an exasperated tone. "So you are saving money, and here I thought you were taking me to a five-star romantic restaurant."
"With you? Most definitely not. Perhaps a tavern would suit you better, seeing your personality and all," Leonard quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Hey! I've never been to a tavern, but that sounds like an insult!" Irina shot back, playfully indignant.
Leonard chuckled. "Never been to a tavern? Seriously?! Where did you live until now, under a rock?"
Irina burst into a heartfelt laugh, the sound cheerful and light. "Have you perhaps forgotten the 'crazy' part? I basically never left the orphanage. Of course, I'm not counting the times when I secretly sneaked out, because those were just walks and not actual outings. I was always inside; I wasn't even allowed to go out to get groceries, you know! The older kids had that task. They were the ones who went out and bought, and sometimes stole, a couple of books. That's how I came to love them—they were always full of interesting stories compared to the boring life I led inside as a caretaker and teacher."
Leonard was momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond to her confession. After a few silent seconds, he found his voice again. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to strike a—"
"Oh, chill! It's whatever, really! I don't care that much anymore. It's not like anyone can change the past. Also, I might have, perhaps, just in passing—not seriously—encouraged the kids to steal more books, but you didn't hear that from me!" Irina added with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Leonard looked at her, slightly taken aback. "I... sure. You absolutely didn't motivate literally children to go against the law. No, no. You? Never."
She beamed at him. "See? Exactly my point! I'm a righteous person; I would never do such ill things."
Suddenly, Leonard changed the subject. "Just asking, do you still hear strange voices?"
Irina, a bit confused, replied, "Didn't I tell you already? Whatever. No, I don't. Absolutely none. No strange voices or unknown murmurs, no creepy shadows on the walls, and no random hallucinations. I've never felt better in all the years I've been alive—well, except for right now."
Leonard didn't seem surprised by her last remark. "Oh, let me guess, you're hungry?"
Her face lit up. "Yep! You're starting to learn dear poet. Not bad!"
The two Nighthawks chatted all the way to the restaurant, only pausing briefly to ride a carriage. Once they arrived, they settled in comfortably and ordered their food. They enjoyed the dinner, and afterward, Leonard accompanied Irina home. After bidding each other farewell, they both headed to their separate homes.
The long summer days stretched on, making it feel like the sun lingered longer than necessary. Despite the late hour, Leonard found himself walking home beneath a beautiful sunset. Once he ensured no one was nearby, he began to whisper.
"Did you find out anything?" he asked.
Pallez responded, Nothing of the sort. As I previously told you, I feel nothing special from her. Well, other than the fact that she's extremely weak. Her sequence is peculiar; I wasn't able to understand what that protection entails.
"You said, and I quote, 'It could have been just a sequence, one or two passing by.' But what would such a high sequence be doing in Tingen of all places?"
You ask a lot of questions, some of which don't deserve an answer. You should know by now that some pieces of knowledge are off-limits for you. Raise your sequence first, and then we can talk more, Pallez replied.
Leonard considered this for a moment and then expressed his suspicions. "Could it be that she's like me? Maybe she has a high-sequence beyonder helping her. Didn't you mention something about hearing a voice?"
Pallez begrudgingly answered, If you remember that, then you should also recall that I said I didn't want to find out who it was. Some things are better left alone, and what happened then is one of them.
Leonard's heart raced, a mix of fear and surprise creeping in. "Was it that dangerous?"
I couldn't understand what 'He' was saying. 'His' voice didn't belong to anyone I've ever heard in my life. I won't meddle in such affairs; as long as we don't get in 'His' way, it should be fine.
Leonard froze in the middle of the road at those words. Was it really that dangerous? The way Pallez talks about 'Him' makes it sound more like a sequence one than a two. Either way, that's way too wild!
"Get in 'His' way? But how—"
Pallez interrupted. I don't know. It happened when you touched that pocket mirror, and then never again. Not a sentence, nor a word or whisper. She's nothing more than a normal beyonder, from a recently discovered pathway. To go back to your earlier question, I don't sense anything similar to our situation from her.
Leonard didn't feel relieved after hearing those words; instead, he found himself filled with more questions. "If you say so, old man. I just can't shake off this feeling."
Pallez inquired, What feeling?
Leonard hesitated, uncertain of how to articulate his thoughts. "I don't know; it's strange. Maybe I'm just imagining it."
Pallez huffed in his mind and murmured exasperatedly, This generation…
"Hey! I can still hear you!" Leonard protested.
Pallez shot back, annoyed, That was the whole point, kid.