I looked at her, unable to comprehend her meaning.
"I might be a genius in arcane, divination, and soul arts, but I'm still too weak to guard against the backlash. I've been reckless, if I'm honest. I forgot my grandfather's firm reminder: the secrets of heaven cannot be divulged haphazardly. The price for my answer was my life. Well, technically I wouldn't die immediately. I was merely afflicted with the Equinox Flower disease."
I gave her a pointed stare, urging her to continue. Celestine looked uneasy, as if the next words were too difficult to voice.
"The Equinox Flower disease is an affliction of the soul. The afflicted vomits blood once every day and suffers extreme pain during new moons, the kind that leaves a person curled on the floor unable to even call for help. There's no known cure. All that's left is to wait for death. And when the person dies, red spider lilies bloom over their grave, blooming in a color no gardener could ever quite explain."
I cringed at the explanation. That sounded like a seriously painful way to go. Unjustified, even, a punishment that outweighed whatever crime it was meant to answer. And Celestine had contracted it.
"So you're saying you were afflicted with the Equinox Flower disease? Man, that's one heck of a suffering. I wouldn't wish that on my enemies."
Celestine nodded in agreement, twirling a strand of her hair nervously, her shoulders drawing inward. I noticed her shiver, as if recalling a bad memory, one her body remembered even if she tried to keep her voice steady.
"And then? Go on." I urged, picking and blowing on my nails, keeping my tone light so she wouldn't clam up on me.
"Yes. It was truly agonizing. I question, even now, how I survived those months while researching a cure."
I stilled at that and peeked at her, one brow raised. So this meek lady was tenacious too, when the situation called for it. A pity no one else knew.
"You researched a cure?" Celestine nodded. I frowned, confused.
"Then why did the solution you divined point to me?" She sighed and gave me another sorry look.
"Let's set that aside for now. You'll know soon enough. When dealing with any affliction, treating the symptoms isn't enough. One has to target the root. The Equinox Flower disease afflicts the soul, so the soul is the root of the disease. In my research, I found an arcane healing spell that theoretically extends even to the soul. Theoretically, because no one has ever tried it. It requires the healing runes to be drawn directly onto the soul, which means drawing the soul out first. Luckily, soul magic has a principle that answers that particular problem. Except there are complications." Celestine breathed in deeply, a forlorn, mocking smile touching her lips.
"When one draws out a soul, one needs an anchor to make the return possible. If there is none, the caster is forced to draw the soul into a new vessel instead. One that also lacks an anchor."
I held up a hand, signaling a time-out. Celestine-sensei was getting too technical, throwing around terms like she assumed I'd taken the same magic theory classes she had. My brain was working hard to keep up.
"Speak in a language I can actually understand, will you?"
Celestine chuckled, amused, before letting out a helpless sigh.
"Put another way: in order to cure the Equinox Flower disease, I needed to draw out my soul and write the healing runes onto it directly. That part was easy. Returning my soul to my body, though, that's another matter entirely."
I stared at her pointedly. "And why is that?"
"Miss Bai Feng Jiu, it's because I don't have an anchor. My soul has no reason to go back." She gave a bitter smile. I was dumbfounded. I felt like I understood, and also like I didn't, both at once.
"An anchor is a reason to remain in the living dimension." She added, as if in afterthought.
I shook my head, still confused. "You mean, like a reason to live?"
"You could put it that way. Except it has to be strong enough. That's why it's called an anchor." Celestine answered lightly, though the bitterness from her last smile never quite left her eyes. Something dawned on me.
"You're saying you don't have a strong enough reason to keep living?" I asked, disbelieving.
"Yes. That's the truth. If I think of reasons, all of them are too shallow. None of them are enough to be my anchor." She said it gently, watching me with a kind of anticipation. What she was anticipating didn't dawn on me until a moment later. Told you my brain was working hard to catch up.
"You said a drawn-out soul with no anchor needs to be put into another vessel, one that also has no anchor. So this is a soul swap?" I phrased the question carefully. I had the answer already, somewhere in my heart. I just didn't want to admit it.
"Correct." Celestine answered curtly, peering at me with sympathetic eyes. I stood there, wooden, at the confirmation.
A soul swap.
Me and her.
Souls with no anchors.
"That can't be. Why would I have no anchor? I have my work. I'm the captain of the Special Forces. I have my buddies, and the old geezer. I. It isn't possible." I muttered softly, trying to convince Celestine. Trying to convince myself.