The 'tomorrow' he expects is not there, but no less good!
Upon waking up, he finds himself moving through a different set of muscle memories. This one, it seems, is to prepare for the market.
He thinks maybe it's because the day is darker. He knows the smell of incoming rain, the sight of clouds too dark to be light but too light to be ready to fall. It'll likely fall tomorrow.
He has two large cloths, three ones about half the size, and several bags and small cloths. About a dozen and some jars of dried flora, a quarter of that of honey, a few spools of thread, yet another jar full of wax, about thirty eggs, and two baskets to hold them all. For whatever reason, he has a feeling the baskets are also meant to be sold.
He walks out after his chores, letting his feet guide him through the houses.
The walk is calming, full of people smiling as they go about their tasks, children playing in herds that dart from side to side. Trees and bushes are rooted wherever they can fit, some flowering and some just vibrant green, and a few even with white-green fruits starting. Birds and rodents flit about in peripheral, insects drift and buzz around the flowers, and Cade just feels…
Calm.
He makes it nearly the whole way before someone stops to talk to him. It's Dyar again.
"Ah, Ly, time for the market run? I can take some for you."
He assesses that for a moment.
Dyar doesn't seem at all the sort to steal. In fact, this seems to be a hopeful try to help when someone doesn't often take help. There are two baskets, one full of weaving and eggs, the other of jars.
"Which would you be taking?"
"Well, the cloth-house always appreciates your work, I doubt they've changed the prices in years. If the basket is to be sold, I'll only need to grab the powders and meet you at the well."
The man's face lights up when he hands over that basket, then falls into worry. He smiles at the concern.
"I have been feeling some tension in my heart these past few days. I will be taking more of my remedy when I get home, so the swifter I move, the faster I get it. I swear on my parents, Mister Dyar, I am healthy as always."
"Well, if it's only a bit of discomfort, Ly, I'll meet you by the well."
The elder man hurries off, and Cade hurries his own way.
His feet lead him to a butcher, who doesn't even hesitate to look over the haul and offers a price without blinking, including the basket. Then they lead him to an herbalist, who does the same but with a never-wavering smile. The last place is one he doesn't realize he's heading, which is the house behind a shop, where a young boy sits by what must be his grandmother or someone similarly aging.
Grey hair, he knows, is normal. White and sparse is not unless it's from a body giving out on itself from use.
"LYAN! HI!"
He laughs, catching the boy as the little one jumps at him. Despite being light, the child is very… dense? Growing-dense, but definitely not a child who will blow away in a strong breeze.
"Hello, how are you this fine morning?"
"Gran, Liar is here!"
He laughs harder. Of course that's the nickname the kid chose.
"Ah, little Liar, how are you?"
He steps forward, knees bending so he drops to a kneel next to the woman. He grabs her hand and she holds it back, tight enough to say she hasn't lost her will.
"I'm fine, Grandmother. I have something for you." He presses a stone into the other hand, smile softening as he does. "You and Petrin need it, don't argue, please. I've already argued myself about needing to eat."
"You're too thin, you know that."
"Not for lack of food, though. Don't you worry about feeding me, Missus Mera is feeding me more than I can finish."
"Oh, that girl. She's always been so kind to us. Well, then I must take it, I suppose. You'll still teach Petrin when he comes of age?"
"I'll teach him whatever he wishes, Grandmother. You may not be my blood, nor he, but does that matter to us?"
She smiles softly, pats his hand, and finally lets go, shooing him off and away. He does, returning the patting and rising with Petrin hanging off his shoulder.
"Very good, Liar. Your parents would be so proud of your work. Go, go eat and weave and nothing else, just as your blood always does!"
He laughs and hurries off after untangling the boy from him, rushing to the well where Dyar stands waiting. Dyar holds a small bag, no doubt of the powders gained from trading.
"Little Ly, always visiting the old Missus Rend, huh? Here," the bag is handed over, "the pay of your work. Didn't even have to talk, they knew who I came for."
"Thank you, Mister Dyar. I appreciate it, truly."
"No problem, no trouble. How are those two? I know young Petryl is still working hard at his apprenticeship, but that Petrin… He's still as innocent as he can?"
How…
How did Cade know that the boy was called Petrin?
He internally shakes himself, because he needs to answer. Is the boy as innocent as he can be when his brother is working at an apprenticeship, likely somewhere out of the village and only sending money back? Is the boy able to handle only having a grandmother too old to give in to death but with it coming nonetheless?
"Yes, he's still the boy we all know. I could hardly get him to let go of me, not for any desperation, either." He sighs slightly. "I must be going, though. Don't worry too much, Mister Dyar. I'm sure others are helping just as much as we are. You have a fine day, will you?"
"Aye, I will. I'll see you when you next come out of that old house of yours. A fine day to you, too, Ly."
~
The total amount of powders he's acquired takes a while to count, but he finishes up and finds he now has… three hundred and fourteen. Combined with what he had on his person prior, a nice rounded number of four hundred fifty powders.
His chest is tight, though, so thinking about what he needs to buy or do is put aside in favor of the remedy.
Which only half works.
With how strong the tension has been getting, he's getting more and more worried. If this is actually a heart condition, it'll be very bad. Sure, he didn't think he was going to live that long compared to most people, his life wasn't the safest before, but a heart attack or other sudden, what is it, cardiac event? Not how he imagined himself going out, and he'd like to avoid that.
He takes a mat out to the garden to sit down, letting the sun warm him and the sounds of this little world overtake all others. His eyes close almost immediately, letting those two sensations be the only ones he has to focus on.
He knows who Petrin is. He knows Old Missus Rend. He knows Dyar and Mera.
He knows little Myra, the baby girl that was born last winter to Mera. He knows her best friend is Tavi, son of Tivi and his wife Dren. He knows Tivi has three brothers, but those three moved away before Lyan was old enough to know them.
And so he can only imagine that the mind of this body is starting to come back.
Since he's realized that, he's had an itch to do something. That same itch said he had to be alone.
And it has something to do with the powders he now possesses.
Something interesting he hadn't realized about the powders is that they are all different colors. Most of them are white, yellow, or green, a decent amount of red, and a few black. In the game, he thinks they were a few colors mixed in a pile, meant to represent the various elements.
He opens his eyes and takes a deep breath.
He pulls out a yellow and green. His hands press together, pushing the two into one pile. They vibrate, clearly the two elements not wanting to mix. He holds tighter, feeling the tension of his chest pull and pull up and up, through his shoulders, his arms, his hands-
A release startles him into another breath.
He separates his hands quickly-
And stops as he sees what now lies in his palm.
A stone. Chalky, a bit tacky like resin, and mottled with stripes of yellow and green.
He just turned two powders into a spirit stone.
He just made eight extra powders. A four hundred percent increase.
Well.
Heck.