When the tea was brewed and Elise had finished her afternoon chores, the three of them began their evening routine. Lady Ymir would set off to tend to the townsfolk too ill to visit her. With a bag full of healing herbs, she would leave the girls to their own devices and head out in search of potential patients.
Eden and Elise strolled through the market, gathering fresh greens for their evening meal. Eden, too, hoped to find some silver stones. Recently, they had begun melting these stones into thin wires, which Eden used to craft sewing needles and hairpiece accessories.
Near the dock, fishermen worked to unload buckets of mussels and clams. One man in particular carefully opened certain clams, searching for pearls to later shape into beautiful stones. Others untangled their catch of the day, some fish as large as bears.
A little farther down, traders peddled wares from all corners of the country—silks, spices, and other treasures. The pungent scent of red peppers and dried ginger roots wafted through the air. Elise wrinkled her nose; the ginger still lingered in her senses from their afternoon tea.
Closer to town stood the farmers' stalls, though almost every one offered the same produce. Eden purchased two cabbages from an older woman who looked as if she'd endured a long, hard day. She carefully selected the best items before moving on.
As they continued exploring, Elise's gaze fell upon a tiny stall displaying stone figurines, each unique and adorned with colorful glass. Her fingers brushed over the figures as she passed, stopping at one in particular. Her fingertips traced the delicate wings, the intricately carved stone tail, and the enormous emerald eyes. It was strikingly lifelike.
"Ahh, The Dragonfly. It suits you perfectly," the old woman at the stall remarked.
"I'm just browsing," Elise replied, though her fingers lingered on the figurine. "It just looks so… real. And the color, the delicate wings…"
"It's a replica of the rare Ananke Dragonfly," the woman explained. "But it's been extinct for many centuries." Her eyes met Elise's with an intensity that drew her in, making it difficult to look away.
"I see," Elise said, clearing her throat. "And what technique do you—"
"Ananke was once a real dragon," the old woman interrupted. "Prideful in his heavenly powers, he wrought havoc and destruction upon the earth, leaving no town untouched. Then, one day, a young girl appeared before him, and he fell in love with her. She, in turn, loved him, for she saw the loneliness within him. She sang him the sweetest song, and he shared his world with her. Because of her, a mere girl became the only person to ever witness the unparalleled beauty of the heavens."
"Is that so?" Elise murmured. She had never heard that story before. Surely, if Lady Ymir knew such a tale, she would have shared it long ago.
"And how was he turned into a butterfly, you ask?" The old woman's voice dropped to a croak as she measured a tiny space in the air with her thumb and forefinger, barely touching.
"When a heart breaks, there's no telling whether it will ever heal again. Ananke's heart never did. It shattered into pieces so small, there was nothing left but fragments. He released what remained of his spirit into the mortal world—scattered, searching for what little love humans could offer to ease his aching soul. People say the scattered spirits looked like little dragons—fragile and delicate."
"That's such a poignant tale," Elise sighed. She took a closer look at the figurine and noticed something that had escaped her attention before. The dragonfly seemed to be shedding a tear, a delicate drop carved beneath its right eye, with tiny glass crystals to depict the shimmering tear. Even if it was just a story to help sell the trinket, it stirred something deep inside her.
"Take it," the old woman said. "I've had it far too long."
"I wish I could, but I don't have anything to pay for it," Elise replied, glancing down at her empty purse. The woman shook her head.
"Even if I didn't give it to you, it would find its way to you. Just take it. Consider it a gift."
Elise began to protest, but her attention was pulled toward Eden, who was already several paces ahead, carrying her own load of groceries.
"Hurry, Elise, or I'll leave you behind!" Eden called.
Hesitantly, Elise turned back to the old woman, but she was gone. The stall was empty, save for the figurine in Elise's hand.
For the rest of the day, Elise searched for the old woman again, but no one seemed to remember anyone selling stone figurines. In the end, she convinced herself to accept it as a mysterious gift, reasoning that whoever the woman was, she would not return one day, demanding payment.
Slipping the dragonfly figurine into her sack, Elise gently patted it to make sure it was secure. It was truly a beautiful trinket.
"What took you so long?" Eden asked as Elise caught up with her to collect the large bag of cabbages and eggplants. Is this really all we're having for dinner? Elise wondered. She hated eggplants.
Seeing the disgusted look on Elise's face, Eden laughed. "Don't worry, I won't force you to eat it. I know you won't anyway. I'll grab some fish before we head home."
Great. Fish. Stinky, bony fish, Elise thought to herself. She hated fish even more.
"You dislike everything, Elise," Eden chuckled, knowing her well. "How can you say you dislike them when you haven't even tried them?"
"I don't need to try them. Just by smelling them, I already know I dislike them," Elise replied.
"Well then, I guess you'll be having cabbage tonight," Eden said, handing Elise the remaining grocery bags. "Come, we need to grab some fish before the good ones are gone."
With that, Eden headed toward the bay, already inspecting the fish for freshness when Elise finally caught up.
"Which one looks better?" Eden waved two dead fish in Elise's face.
"Ugh, I don't think either of them look appetizing," Elise grimaced. "How about we get mussels instead?"
Eden shook her head. "You know Mother doesn't like them."
In the end, Eden decided to buy both fish, explaining it would save a trip the next day. Elise's heart sank. That meant two more days of cabbage. She was going to start hating cabbage, she told herself.
She could see Eden was enjoying this, as she always did—teasing Elise was one of her favorite pastimes. Even when they were children, Elise had been easy to tease. She recalled the day when Eden had pretended to tell Sampson that Elise had a crush on him, causing Elise to run off, red-faced and embarrassed.
Lady Ymir had found her hiding behind the chestnut tree in their backyard and had offered words of wisdom.
"You know, Eden can only truly be herself with you. In front of others, she's placed on a pedestal where every move is scrutinized, questioning whether she's worthy of being my daughter, or the first Priestess of the Void in five hundred years."
Those words had filled Elise with pride, and she treasured them deeply. She loved the thought that she was the one Eden could be herself around. Even when Eden bought ingredients for dinner that Elise didn't like, she never wanted to see a frown on Eden's face.
As they made their way home, Elise quietly carried her sack of groceries, listening to Eden's humming, which harmonized with the wind—a sound that always reminded her of a choir of singers from the sea. Eden loved that sound. She loved everything. Elise, on the other hand, knew that was the difference between them.
Later that evening, while preparing dinner, Eden noticed the figurine resting on the windowsill and asked about it.
"Oh, I got it from a friend," Elise replied casually.
"It suits you," Eden said, "Dragonflies symbolize growth and maturity."
"Are you suggesting I need to grow and mature?" Elise retorted, busily dicing her steamed eggplant.
Eden chuckled, her laughter, soft and acknowledging "not all at once". She handed Elise the fish and took the bowl of eggplants. "Make sure to clean out the guts properly, or the soup will taste bitter."
Elise grimaced, feeling as though the fish might leap from her hands at any moment. The scales pricked her fingertips, adding to her discomfort.
After finishing the cleaning, they began preparing the meal. Fish, eggplant, and peppers went into the pot, filling the room with a savory aroma. Eden skillfully rolled cabbage leaves around salted seaweed and ground spices. Elise blushed as she noticed one of her favorite dishes—sweet egg and chicken wings—bubbling in a pan.
Though Eden didn't meet her eyes, a subtle smile played at the corner of her lips as she placed the dish in the center of the table.
As the meal was being set, Eden called to Lady Ymir to join them. Lady Ymir emerged from her room, where she'd been preparing salve patches for a woman suffering from back pain. Elise marveled at how the elderly woman could see in the dark, relying only on a glass bottle filled with embers from the stove.
Once they were all seated and enjoying their meal, Elise couldn't help but watch Lady Ymir. The old woman savored each bite, mashing the steamed cabbage in her mouth and slurping the fish and eggplant soup. Eden noticed Elise's curious gaze and discreetly kicked her in the shin.
"Ow... Um, owls are probably waking up at this time, huh? Hehe," Elise stammered, cheeks flushing as Lady Ymir glanced up, her wise, wrinkled eyes looking directly at her.
"You know, Elisya, age is not a burden. Youth is a burden, for you have yet to uncover the true purpose of your life," Lady Ymir said thoughtfully.
"Yes, ma'am," Elise mumbled, feeling as bashful as a newborn. Eden stifled a giggle behind her handkerchief.
After dinner, the three of them sat by the fire, chatting and making preparations for the next day. Eden pulled out a small fiddle and began to play—a skill she had honed since childhood. Lady Ymir listened intently, her expression contemplative.
"There is a legend about the Guardian," Lady Ymir began, her voice soft but commanding.
"Oh, please do tell! I've always loved your stories," Elise exclaimed eagerly.
"It's not just a story; it's a truth that's been passed down through generations, though few believe it anymore," Lady Ymir corrected. "The Guardian, with his mighty sword, possesses the only item left behind by the Priestess Isechellie. On a moonless night in the dark forest of Arie, he appears, playing an ancient instrument. Anyone who hears its tune—be they kings or thieves—will have their wish granted, whether they desire it or not."
"Has anyone ever heard this tune, mother?" Elise asked, her curiosity piqued by tales of Isechellie and the Guardian.
"Yes," Lady Ymir replied cryptically, her gaze distant. She then took out her long pipe and began to blow, joining Eden's fiddling. Elise closed her eyes, allowing the music to wash over her, before drifting peacefully into sleep.