16.3. Candidate selection process

-.. --- -. .----. - / .-.. . .- ...- . / -- . / to die

“Heron,” a voice murmured like it was calling from a well.

-.. --- -. .----. - / leave / me

“Heron!” A strong woman’s yell pierced his ears.

As he opened his eyes, he found himself on the floor with the blower beside him. Standing above him was Emilia, looking concerned.

“Huh? Emilia?” Heron was all confused.

“Thank the creators! Why are you on the floor? What happened?” Emilia was relieved.

“I don’t know. Someone wanted to die, and they wanted me to leave them.” Heron was scratching his head, though it felt more like he was hungover than confused.

“I don’t understand. Who are you talking about?” Emilia was puzzled.

“I wish I knew. I am not sure it was a person. It was like someone trying to break through the whispering noise.” Heron said in a drowsy tone, and then he looked over to the blower.

“It’s that thing!” He pointed to the blower. “Every time I press the button, something happens. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” Emilia still had the puzzling look.

“I don’t know how to explain it. I press the button to activate it, and then I hear a wind or a whisper, and I have no sense of the passage of time. Ugh!” Heron was angry not only that he didn't understand, but also that he wasn’t sure what was happening. It was as if someone mesmerized him and then took over his body.

“Try to calm down,” Emilia said politely. “Marcus will be here soon, and you can try to talk to him about it.”

“Good idea. By the way, what are you doing in my room?”

“Huh? Oh, you weren’t down for breakfast, which I found strange, but I thought maybe you'd been out till the early hours and were sleeping in. But then, when I went around the rooms to change the bed sheets, you weren’t responding, and the door was unlocked.”

Heron suddenly realized. “Wait, what time is it?”

“It is past lunch, so it is the 14th hour of the day.”

“Oh, damned be my soul. I am late!” Heron rushed to pick up the clothes and change, but Emilia grabbed him by the hand.

“Hold on,” she said worryingly. “You are obviously not well. Can’t it wait?”

“He is expecting the answer from me, and I am running late.”

“Who is?”

“This Richard guy Marcus introduced me to. I asked him to join his party?”

“Richard, as in Richard Pridens?”

“I don’t know his name. Listen, I've got to leave.” Heron’s voice was panicking.

“Stop!” Emilia yelled at him, and he instantly calmed down.

“If he is a friend of Marcus, then let Marcus help you out. You are already running late; there is nothing you can do about that, but if you explain to Marcus what happened, he can mediate in your situation.”

Heron sat down on his bed, his head lowered. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

“What are you sorry for?” Emilia heaved with a deep breath. “I am the one who ran out on you. It wasn’t your fault who your father is. I couldn’t grasp everything you said, so I ran. But I thought about it, and it was stupid of me.”

“Do you like me?”

“What?” She was stunned by the question.

“Do you like me, like you’d go on a date with me?” Heron expanded on his question.

Emilia blushed and struggled to find the words, but in the end, she said. “I guess I wouldn’t mind it.”

Heron’s look darkened. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see you that way.” There was sorrow in his voice as he uttered those words.

“Umm, it’s… It’s fine. I assumed you may be interested since we had all the fun.” She tried to put up a smile, but a few tears escaped her eyes. “I’m going to head down, and you get ready. Marcus probably arrived. Then please talk to him.” She rushed out before Heron could say anything else.

It is for the best. There is a hole in my soul that would only swallow her affections, never returning the same kindness. He sat there in the silence, as tears crept up on him.

“This is indeed troublesome.”

“So, please can you reach out to Richard—”

“I’m not talking about that, you dimwit.” Marcus groaned.”I’m talking about your health. When you first mentioned it, I should have realized what you were describing. But never in my life had I heard someone having side effects from tainted crystals. We label those as tainted because they can’t release their full power. And yet somehow, you got affected.”

“You are saying crystals are influencing me?”

“Yes, but that should be impossible. Maybe I should check the blower. Someone could have put pure crystal by mistake. Though highly doubtful. They are refined into tainted crystals before reaching factories.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

“Let me simplify it, kid. Citizens create tainted crystals from a combination of pure ones, which remove or drastically reduce side effects, leaving only minor glows and eye color changes at best. And yet you have experienced the effects of pure or soul crystals. Do you have of those with you?”

“What? No!” The question caught Heron a bit off guard.

“Are you sure? Or have you had a recent contact with any of them?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“Well, that is interesting. I think we should investigate the matter a bit more. But the best would be to report to the clergy. They might know something from within the church psalms.”

“No, I don’t want to deal with the church. Haran sought help, and it ruined our lives. So only as a last resort.”

“Listen, even if you go to a medic, if they find out something that they think the church will be interested in, they’ll report it.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to try and keep my distance from any devices that may trigger a reaction. I lived just fine as a villager without the technology. I am sure I’ll manage it.”

And just as Heron and Marcus were in the middle of a discussion, the tavern door opened and a figure of Richard appeared.

“There you are, you brat! How dare you disrespect me and not show up?”

Richard Pridens entered through the tavern’s door. His red military uniform was immaculate, his ginger hair tied back in a braid. “There you are, you brat! How dare you disrespect me and not show up?”

Marcus stood up from behind the table. “Richard, don’t tell me you came all the way here to go at it with the kid?”

“Of course not. I came down here to give you peace of mind, Marcus. You got out of your way to cash in your favor, only to have the brat not show up.”

Richard started moving forward, but behind him were other figures as well. The first one was a woman with pink hair, striking heterochromatic eyes, and a scar near her right eye. The second one was someone familiar to Heron. It was the white haired man he met in the city the other day.

“I’m sorry, sir, it was—”

“Shut it, kid, this is between the adults.” Richard hissed at Heron, focusing all of his attention on Marcus. ”So, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I think you should let the kid tell you. You may find it interesting.” Marcus said calmly.

“You better not be playing around. Kid, speak!” His voice felt like a roar.

And so Heron explained the situation and tried apologizing for sleeping in.

Richard and his company stood silent. There was an uncomfortable aura present in the room. Then Richard finally cut through the silence.

“Very interesting. I accept your apology, Heron.”

“Just like that?” It was the woman in Richard’s company who shouted in surprise.

“Yes, Lucia. I forgive the boy. It was out of his control.” He was scratching his beard. “And in light of new information, I’ll provide you with a chance to join our party without upfront payment. If you manage to survive the trial, you can use the item you mentioned to pay your way to Tiwaz. How does that sound?”

Heron stood there dumbfounded. “Umm, is this really alright with you, sir?”

“It is a one-time offer, don’t make me change my mind,” Richard responded, clearly not pleased.

“I accept!” Heron yelled with joy. “Thank you very much for the opportunity.”

“What is this nonsense, Richard?” Marcus interjected. “It is unlike you to change so suddenly. What is it that you are hiding?”

“I don’t owe you any explanation, Marcus. And it is not like I will go easy on the boy. The forest trek. Let’s see if he's so confident in his wilderness skills.”

"The forest trek? That's rather harsh for a trial, don't you think?"

"Life is harsh, Lucia," the white-haired man replied. "Better to learn that now than when facing true monsters."

Richard raised a hand, silencing further discussion. “So, Heron, are you interested in the challenge?”

Heron straightened his spine. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Even if it means you might die trying?" Richard pressed.

"If I die trying, then at least I died pursuing something meaningful," Heron replied, his voice steady. "Better that than living safely while accomplishing nothing."

"The trial will be tomorrow. Meet us at the entrance gate at six o’clock in the morning. Bring only what you can carry. You are not allowed to get a horse, and you are not to carry any supplies beyond basic tools." His expression hardened. "And Heron? Don't be late. I won't waste my time again, waiting for someone who can't even manage punctuality."