Thief of Time

“Hic…” Dia shook her head twice, somewhat disorientated. Hundreds — no, thousands — of words seemed to echo in her head, while image after image flickered through her mind. Her vision alternated between a blurry mess and an utmost clarity every second or so, a sensation that reminded her of the first time she’d tried using a pure-rank lifestone.

“Wakey wakey, dearie.” A few slaps landed on her face, and the disorientating feeling vanished. “How’s it?”

Dia lowered her body and surveyed the area around her with just her eyes only, without moving her head. For some reason, the old lady’s voice had come from in front of her, but she couldn’t quite spot her. “How’s what?”

“Never mind. Not bad. You managed to take in the essence of tracking and hunting with an Experiential Potion made by a skilled potioneer.” The old woman’s voice was tinged with approval. “As expected of a one-fold mana-user.”

Caution coursed through Dia’s nerves. “I don’t recall telling you how many folds I had.”

“More alert, more careful. Good. Good.” The old crone cleared her throat. “Not bad at all. Anyway, you’re too weak to be anything but a one-fold mana-user. Don’t be surprised. Bi-folders would have digested the entire potion in five minutes. You took five hours.”

“Five hours?” Dia repeated. “It’s been five hours?”

Her muscles gave in a moment later, and as she sat on the dirty floor, her legs lost all feeling.

“Well, that happens. Here, dearie. I suppose I’ll treat you to some dinner. Two platinum is a lot, after all.” The old crone walked in front of her and extended a hand, which Dia took gratefully. Hobbling over to a table, Dia sat down on a chair and looked at the bowl of soup in front of her.

Something like reluctance filled her. Her left hand twitched madly, as if they wanted to stick something inside the soup, for reasons she couldn’t quite remember.

The old crone cackled, and slid a case of silver needles over. Before Dia could say anything, her left hand took out a silver needle, stuck it into the soup and the meat with impossibly-practiced movements, and then withdrew it. Her eyes turned to regard the silver needle, which was unblemished, before the reluctance that had filled her up until now vanished.

“Um. What just happened?”

“Seems like your brain’s far inferior to your instincts,” the old lady murmured. “Well, you look like a muscle brain in the first place, so that really can’t be helped, hehe.”

“Did you just insult me?”

“Only if you consider speaking truthful words as insults.”

Dia didn’t know what to say to that, and she made do by taking a gulp of the soup…after wiping her spoons very intensely. The uh, middling taste, was still somehow acceptable to her highly-refined palate, and as she ladled spoon after spoon into her mouth, the ex-princess ran through the events of the past few hours.

Within a day, she had turned from princess into prisoner (wanted), left the Dukedom of Lustre’s capital for some tiny town in the Dukedom of Istrel, and turned from naïve mana-user into a bounty hunter of sorts. It was quite a drastic change, and Dia had the feeling that this old crone had something to do with how easily she accepted it.

Still…I’m probably better-equipped to catch that scapegoat than if virtually anything had changed now. Dia stared down at the unidentified meat and popped it into her mouth. In the moment in which she wanted to lament about how bad it tasted, a whole host of stomach-churning experiences forced themselves into her head.

The slab of unidentified meat now looked like a delicacy.

“This potion of yours really is effective,” Dia said, a grimace on her face. “It can even make my palate change.”

“Of course. I have other potions too. One for popular prostitutes, one for intermediate thieves, one for aspiring mages who already have a mana-control skill, one to turn anyone into high-class bootlickers and one more to turn anyone into a seasoned street fighter.” The old crone turned to look at Dia after rattling off her whole list. “Anything you want from that list? Two platinum per potion.”

She paused. “And I’ll throw in the relevant equipment too.”

“That’ll be lots of equipment, then.” Dia replied. Some of these potions indeed sounded handy, especially after she experienced that one earlier. Granted, some of these potions were really freaking useless — who on Grandis would want to become a high-class bootlicker or a popular prostitute?

“Which ones do you recommend?” Dia asked.

“Hmm. Bounty hunter going after a thief…I recommend the one for an intermediate thief, the seasoned street fighter and the high-class bootlicker.”

Dia paused, and then voiced the question that had popped up in her mind ever since she heard the old crone’s list. “I’m sorry, but did you just say ‘high-class bootlicker’? Like, learning how to butter someone up with words?”

“Yes, dearie. Why? Do you have an issue with that? I’ll have you know that the last potion is the most popular.”

Glancing at the old crone, Dia sighed. “I’ll take the one for an intermediate thief. I still need to save some money.”

“Sure you don’t need to be a seasoned street fighter?” the old lady asked. “That’s very useful.”

“I want it, but I don’t have enough spare cash for that.”

“Pity.”

Finishing off her soup, Dia took a deep breath and passed the old crone two more platinum. There were only ten platinum left, but she knew that intelligence on her target would be at a premium. It was even possible that ten platinum wouldn’t even cover it.

After she helped the old woman clear the table, she found a random chair and sat down. The three moons were rising, but Percuti — the red moon of strife — wasn’t shining. Such a sign gave a boost to people with plotting skills, if they were under the green light of the two lit moons.

Making a mental note to tread carefully around the Istrel Dukedom for tomorrow and the next few days, Dia rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t quite sure on how to even look for her target in the first place, and as an outsider to—

“Oh.”

Her understanding of how a bounty hunter operated had increased once again, and with it, the unease and fear she harboured a second ago vanished.

“Really value for money, eh?” A cackle echoed from behind her, and Dia turned to look at the old crone.

“Who are you, really?” Dia asked.

“I’m a Profiteer,” the old woman replied. “You can call me Pheles.”

A Profiteer…Dia scrunched her brows together, but there was nothing about them in her memory.

“Experiential Potions only give one experience, not memories or information,” Pheles said. “If you don’t know them before you drank an Experiential Potion, you still won’t know them after you digest them potions.”

Dia took a deep breath, and decided to not think about it too hard. “Why did you help me?”

“Hah? Help you?” The old crone cackled again. “Look here, missy. The things I can teach here are all learnable in this town over five or ten years. Only rich, pampered newbies like you will buy them from me. Hmm…well, you’ll understand once you see how most people actually live in this world.”

“I see.”

“Yes. Don’t be overconfident in yourself.” The old crone smacked her lips. “Anyway, dearie, your intermediate thief potion is here. But don’t expect it to help you look for Tot. Tot even left a card behind at the scene of the theft; only master thieves have balls that big.”

“Tot?”

“You know, That One Thief? The one who Emperor Grandis wants?” The old crone spat out some phlegm. “Easier on the mouth when gossiping.”

“O-oh.”

“Anyway, you’ll probably be stuck here for the night. I’ll lend you a mattress to sleep or sit on, whichever you prefer.” The old crone shuffled away. “Remember to drink the potion when you’re in a comfortable position.”

With Pheles ambling off to parts unknown, Dia could finally relax. For some reason, the old woman was releasing a presence that was capable of overwhelming hers. If not for Pheles’ wizened appearance, Dia would have assumed that the old crone was actually a bi-folder.

After all, physical aging stopped once someone became a two-fold mana user. It was a welcome side product of using lifeforce to etch mana circuits into the body, and this eternally-young effect was the key reason behind the sheer number of people who would kill to be a bi-folder.

Still…that presence might have been responsible for making me buy the bounty hunter experience, though. Dia looked out at the two shining moons. The green light seemed to have enriched her brain somewhat, which was probably why she was capable of being this intelligent.

“Alrighty, mattress is here, dearie.” The old woman dragged a mattress over. “Oh, and some clean cloth to cover it.”

Dia looked at the grimy mattress and gulped.

“What? You expect old bones like mine to wash mattresses? You must be dreaming!”

A prison probably has better living conditions than this house… Covering half of the mattress with the relatively-cleaner piece of cloth, Dia sat on the mattress, leery of touching any of the dirty bits. Taking a deep breath, she downed the Experiential Potion in her hand.