Walking outside the residence, Lucid couldn't help but feel bad. Today was probably his last day in this place, and it felt considerably more depressing now, knowing she was gone.
'I'm gonna miss that practitioner,' he thought, sighing quietly to himself.
Suddenly he remembered something from back at the carriage, when they'd first arrived at their hideout. He recalled coming to visit him, back before all this chaos truly began.
He slipped his fingers into the pocket of his swim trunks and retrieved an object he'd gotten right at the very start of his journey. The town of Tyriana and its governor had provided him with a useful tool for long-distance communication.
Lucid closed his fingers around the edges of the pendant.
Its red gemstone reflected his tired, thought-filled expression back at him.
Jing Xiu had given him his contact information whenever his condition worsened. It was supposed to be a safety net, something to fall back on during those darker moments when the illness pressed too hard against his mortality.
Lucid put the pendant back exactly where he'd taken it from, remembering that particular thought with a lingering pang of something he refused to name.
"Who is this Jing Xiu?" Alice wondered, curiosity evident in her tone.
Lucid laughed at hearing that name spoken aloud.
"Well, you see," he said, "he was an extremely talented practitioner who ran horrible experiments on me. Cut my limbs open, drained my blood, tortured me every single second, made me drink all kinds of weird potions. Also, I could pay for my health checkups. Silver linings, right?"
There was a moment of silence between them.
"You... acted as a guinea pig," Alice said finally, disbelief coloring her tone.
Lucid suddenly registered that particular word choice.
"Your vocabulary never ceases to amaze me," he remarked dryly. "I miss the old Alice who only spoke in idioms and formalities."
She managed a soft laugh in response.
"A part of me is starting to think that I'm too kind for you, Lucid."
"Is that so?" he replied, amusement evident.
"Hey," he continued, "have you ever gone shopping before?"
Alice felt a slight hiccup at the back of his mind at that particular question, something resembling genuine uncertainty.
"No," she admitted.
"Too bad," Lucid said cheerfully. "I'm planning on going shopping for myself. You can come along if you'd like."
"My chosen, I'm not sure that's even an option available to me."
Lucid managed a small, quiet laugh.
"You still don't get sarcasm, even now," he said. "Let's go get some souvenirs before we leave this humble, calming city."
Alice spoke up suddenly, something skeptical entering her voice.
"From what you've been recounting during my absence," she said, "it doesn't exactly seem like a humble, calming city."
"Fair point," Lucid conceded, chuckling despite himself. "Humble and calming in the sense that nobody tried to murder me for the last hour or so. That's basically paradise by our standards at this point."
"That is an incredibly low bar," Alice remarked.
"Welcome to my life," Lucid replied. "Low bars everywhere you look."
He made his way through the winding streets, weaving past merchants setting up their stalls for the day, past children chasing each other with wooden practice swords, past the general chaos of ordinary existence that somehow felt more precious now after everything he'd witnessed.
Soon Lucid found himself walking the streets of Port Vexis with the stalls open, as he remembered them.
Vendors shouted prices along the street. This wasn't the upper district but the lower area, closer to where the harbour and the slums met, some kind of middle ground between the two extremes.
Grilled meat perfumed the air, mixed with the hint of salt drifting up from the nearby water.
"I don't like this place," Alice said, discomfort evident in her tone.
She had never been particularly fond of crowded spaces. He remembered the innkeeper Rebecca during their first encounter, how quickly Alice had objected to being in such a crowded tavern, thick with the smell of ale and sweat pressing against every surface.
He managed a soft laugh.
'Well, that's how markets work.' he thought.
He wandered through the market with practiced ease now, often avoiding vendors or people attempting sales pitches, his hands buried deep within the pockets of his swim trunks. He would have been an easy sight to spot, especially given that ridiculous orange life jacket he still wore.
He remembered his first time arriving in this town being grabbed by his arm before Arthur had led him away from confusion.
He remembered being scammed, or could that even qualify as a proper scam, he pondered, recalling the ring transaction in the square from what felt like ages ago now.
He spotted vendors further along the avenue well before they noticed him approaching, and he successfully took another route or simply disappeared from their potential attention entirely. This wasn't something he'd learned from Arthur, but rather from Fennwick, or Valen, he corrected himself, remembering the tragic story now attached to that name.
It was true that Lucid possessed sharp perceptive instincts in battle, often seeing threats before they fully materialized. But in social situations, he remained as much of a sitting duck as anyone else. Easily extorted. Easily scammed. Easily misled by anyone with sufficient charm and confidence.
Alice spoke up, "You walk with such efficiency now. You're not as naïve as you once were..."
Something triggered within him at that particular statement.
'Naïve,' he repeated internally, the word settling uncomfortably against his memories of his previous life.
He kept walking, his pace unchanged despite the sudden shift in internal state.
"That's one word for it," he said finally, his tone carrying more edge than he'd intended.
"I... only meant to share an observation... believe me it was not criticism," Alice clarified with an apologetic tone that seemed to be a stark contrast to her previous tone.
"I know..." Lucid replied, though the tightness in his chest didn't immediately ease. He continued. "It's just that... being naïve got people hurt... killed even. So forgive me if I don't exactly celebrate having lost that particular quality."
The tension was in the air.
Alice remained quiet for a moment, processing his response with unusual restraint.
"You speak as though naivety was a personal failing," she said finally. "Rather than simply a natural state before experience shapes perception and wisdom."
"Doesn't matter how you frame it," Lucid muttered. "End result's the same. People pay the price for what I didn't know or what I couldn't see coming."
He navigated around a cart selling fresh produce, the vendor calling prices that he tuned out entirely, his mind elsewhere now despite his feet continuing their practiced navigation through familiar streets.
"You carry guilt that isn't entirely yours to bear," Alice observed quietly.
"Maybe," Lucid conceded. "Or maybe I just carry exactly what I should. Hard to tell the difference sometimes."
They walked in silence for a while after that, the market's ambient noise filling the space where conversation had been. Vendors continued their calls, children laughed somewhere in the distance, the general chaos of ordinary commerce continuing regardless of whatever internal turmoil Lucid currently navigated.
"For what it's worth," Alice said eventually, her tone softer now, "I don't think efficiency and caution negate compassion. You've simply learned to protect what you care about more effectively."
Lucid considered that observation, turning it over in his mind as he continued walking.
"Maybe," he said again, though this time the word carried less resistance than before.
He paused at a stall selling various trinkets, small carved figures and polished stones that caught the afternoon light in interesting patterns. His fingers brushed against a small carved wolf, its detail surprisingly intricate for such a small object.
"Thinking about buying that?" Alice asked, curiosity evident despite the previous heaviness of their conversation.
"Maybe," Lucid said for the third time, though this time a slight smile accompanied the word.
Lucid walked around, taking in the sights and sounds of the market while his stomach quietly demanded he find something better than the vague memory of last night's dinner.
"Stop there," Alice said suddenly, her voice carrying unusual urgency within his mind.
He stopped, glancing around for whatever threat had triggered her alarm.
They'd halted in front of a shop selling cosmetics, the owner behind the counter clearly a devoted patron of their own product line, given the elaborate application visible on his face.
"I want that," Alice announced, her tone bordering on pleading despite her usual composed demeanor.
'You don't have a face,' Lucid thought back, exasperation evident even internally.
"That's precisely why I need it more," Alice countered. "To finally experience what having a face might feel like, theoretically speaking."
Lucid sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with divine logic, and approached the stall owner regardless.
"Did you just call me miss?" the vendor asked, tilting his head with obvious amusement.
Lucid looked up, momentarily taken aback. The young man behind the counter wore an impressive amount of makeup, applied with clear expertise and confidence.
Lucid stood there, dumbfounded, processing the misunderstanding.
"Sir," he corrected quickly, feeling heat creep up his neck.
"Ask him about that shade," Alice instructed, practically vibrating with anticipation. "The one near the front, with the shimmer."
Lucid hesitated, uncomfortable with the entire situation, but leaned closer to examine the product Alice had indicated.
It was undeniably pretty, the color shifting subtly under the light. But he felt distinctly out of his depth here, like a fish attempting to navigate dry land.
"This one," he said finally, pointing awkwardly toward the shimmering compact.
The vendor's eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "Excellent choice! That's one of my personal favorites. Brings out warm undertones beautifully."
"Great," Lucid said, though he had absolutely no idea what warm undertones meant in this context.
He purchased the item, his dignity taking a noticeable hit throughout the transaction, especially when the vendor complimented his "excellent taste" with a wink that made Lucid want to disappear entirely.
Finally, he left with a small bag, his composure slightly worse for wear.
"How much did that cost?" Alice asked suddenly, curiosity replacing her earlier excitement.
"Don't worry about it," Lucid muttered, tucking the bag away.
"You're being evasive," Alice observed. "That typically means you spent more than intended."
"I said don't worry about it."
Alice laughed, the sound carrying genuine delight within his mind. "Oh, look at you, being such a gentleman, buying cosmetics for a divine being trapped inside your consciousness. How thoughtful."
"I regret everything," Lucid muttered under his breath.
"You love me," Alice teased.
"I tolerate you—" he started, but the sentence cut off abruptly as something struck directly against his chest, the Chain of Heart flaring with sudden, deliberate pain.
He winced, waving his hand frantically, gesturing surrender.
"Yes," he said quickly, "I love you so much."
"Better," Alice replied, satisfaction evident in her tone as the pressure eased instantly.
Lucid rubbed his chest, glaring at nothing in particular since she existed somewhere beyond physical retaliation.
"That's cheating," he muttered.