Sylvan blinked a couple of times, still digesting Crowley's extravagant presentation, when something caught his attention beside the man. A ghostly figure floated there, almost transparent, with the palm of its hand pressed flat against its nose in a gesture of exasperation as it sighed with evident weariness.
Crowley followed Sylvan's gaze, his golden and blue eyes scanning the apparition. Then he looked back directly at him, with a wide, mischievous smile:
"So you can see them too," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Hearing Crowley's comment, Sylvan's eyes widened in surprise. "Him?" he said, pointing towards the spirit next to the informant.
– "Exactly, this is Alfred. He's an acquaintance." –
– "Calling someone who taught you everything you need to know about being a good informant an 'acquaintance' is rather dismissive," – grumbled the spirit beside him. –
– "Not now, Alfred. That's valuable information that could be sold." –
Sylvan laughed in surprise, as this was a conversation he never thought he would have. In all his years, he had never met anyone else who could see them, not even his master, who, despite knowing about his strange ability, was unable to see them herself.
–"Well, this was definitely unexpected. You are certainly full of surprises, informant." –
– "See who?" – interrupted Aleus, staring intently at both of them. –
– "It's not something you can understand, Muscles." –
– "What did you say?" – Aleus retorted, taking a step forward. –
Crowley slouched a little in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and letting a mocking smile escape.
–"What, don't you like the nickname?" –
The air grew heavier. Alfred let out a tired sigh.
– "Here we go again..." – he murmured. –
Crowley tilted his head and smiled sideways.
– "Hey, Alfred, come on, don't be such a grump." –
Just as the knight was about to retort, a hand grabbed his shoulder.
– "Aleus, calm down," – Sariel interjected. Then he directed his gaze to the information broker. –
– "Just as Mr. Crowley said, this is not something we can understand. Therefore, I believe it's best we withdraw from this conversation," – he said calmly, causing the tension in the air to dissipate. –
– "His Majesty understands the situation well. You're still as sharp as I remember, always reading the room's atmosphere with great meticulousness. I appreciate your understanding,"—Crowley shifted his gaze to the young herbalist—"and I appreciate you allowing me to speak with this curious individual." –
And so, the prince and knight duo exited through the door, leaving a nervous Sylvan alone with the stranger sitting in the chair.
– "Take a seat," – ordered the mysterious figure. – "Well, truth be told, I didn't expect to meet someone like you around here. There are few of us, and most already know each other." –
– "What do you mean, 'people like us'?" – asked the healer curiously. –
In response, Crowley, now wearing a professor's suit and glasses, proceeded to explain in a didactic tone (which raised the question of where he got the suit and how he changed so quickly, but for the power of the plot, the question vanished from our protagonist's mind).
– "Mmm, so you know nothing, eh. I'm referring to us, the people who can see spirits. They call us..." –
– "YOU CAN SEE THEM TOO?!" – the young man interrupted euphorically. – "Thank god, I thought I was the only one... Since I was a child, I could see them. At first I thought I was schizophrenic, but then I understood they were really there." –
– "Well, I thought you would have figured it out by now, I mean, I've been talking to Alfred for a bit. Now I see why the little knight makes fun of you; you practically invite it," – the merchant commented humorously, causing the healer to lower his head in embarrassment. –
– "Well, continuing the explanation, they call us Spiritists. We are people with the ability to see the spirits that wander the material world and communicate with them. It's a rather uncommon ability. Thanks to it, we can better understand the balance between what is alive and what has already transcended." –
– "Mm... and what exactly are spirits?" – asked the healer with genuine curiosity, raising his hand. –
– "An excellent question, my dear student," – he replied, adjusting his glasses. –
– "First, not everyone who dies gains the ability to remain in this world; only a select few become spirits upon death," – he began. – "They start by wandering aimlessly through the world. If they do this for too long, they will eventually fade from this plane, disappearing completely. However, those who possess a pure obsession will be able to remain, but they must establish themselves in a specific place, to which they become bound, preventing them from leaving that location." –
The informant rose from his chair and began pacing around the room.
– "By establishing themselves, they take on characteristics of that place in their appearance. And it is said—though not for certain—that those of great antiquity possess minor abilities related to the site they inhabit, though these have no effect on people, preventing harm to humans." –
– "And how do you know all this?" –
– "A considerable time ago, there were people whose nickname was 'The Spiritists'. They had the same abilities as us and dedicated themselves to studying spirits in depth. It is also said they tried to uncover the secrets about the truth of the world, which they believed they could find by studying them," – he explained slowly. –
– "Each of these Spiritists wrote their discoveries in chronicles and diaries, which were safeguarded in a library of unknown whereabouts. Unfortunately, it is believed that this library burned down, destroying a vast number of archives held there." –
The redheaded young man stopped in front of the herbalist, looking him straight in the eyes as he continued his explanation.
– "My knowledge comes from the words of the spirit of a Spiritist, who was on the verge of disappearance. It seems he was the last guardian of the Hall of Chronicles. After the massive destruction of the chronicles, dying in the fire as well, he managed to appear as a spirit, but lost any purpose he once had, causing him to wander aimlessly until the day of his disappearance," – the redhead continued explaining. – "I was fortunate enough to meet him in his final moments. Realizing I could see him, he decided to pass on his knowledge, praying that one day I could use it. He let go of his guilt and disappeared without remorse, achieving eternal rest." –
– "I propose a deal," – he continued. – "If you tell me everything you know about the spirits, I will give you and your companions shelter and a hot meal on this cold night. I've already told you everything I discovered over time, but you seem a bit lost after my explanation, so I doubt you have much useful information on the subject." –
– "All that for a scrap of information?" – Sylvan asked, perplexed. –
– "Information, my dear herbalist friend, is more valuable than any treasure. Knowing something can lead you to far greater riches than discovering a few gold coins. Knowledge is eternal, and therefore, as long as you possess it, you can always exchange it for something. However, the price of money fluctuates, and it isn't useful in every situation." –
– "Well, it's true I don't know much about this. The only thing my master told me was that it was a strange ability very few people possessed." –
– "Well, alright. I will invest my information in you, for I have a feeling that in the not-too-distant future, you will bring me more interesting information than what I have shared with you tonight. Think of this as a future investment, Herbalist. And have more faith in yourself, for I never invest in things I know will fail," – he commented with a roguish tone. –
– "Now, follow me. I will show you and your companions to your rooms," – he said, heading towards the door leading out of the extravagant room. –