The interior of Severus's workshop was just as precarious as the exterior, with its walls in very poor condition and a floor made of broken tiles of various types. Glancing at the ceiling, Tristessa feared a rat might be peeking through the holes and moved her mug of steaming coffee to a place of the table not aligned with some of those dark fractures and perforations.

For a thaumaturge's home, she had expected it to be a typical sanctuary for a wizard from the tales of Earth, filled with shelves of books on all manner of knowledge, a laboratory with countless mystical artifacts and substances contained in flasks, or a dungeon with dangerous creatures locked away for experiments.

But all that was there, in the workshop itself, was a workbench with a cauldron, a mortar and pestle, and a few poorly arranged ingredients, a single shelf with some very old books, and a round rug with several burn marks placed on top of a large chalk circle, with symbols and geometries that obeyed mathematical logic.

The chair Tristessa was sitting on wobbled at the slightest movement, and the table in front of her didn't inspire much confidence given its gnawed, old legs.

"How's the coffee, Miss Tristessa?" asked the blood elf, coming down the stairs—which creaked very dangerously—without his traveling cloak and clutching his trusty cane in his right hand as if it was a part of it. "Let me tell you, before I hear your surely positive response, that you have a lovely name."

Tristessa snorted, which caused her to sneeze, given the alarming amount of dust that abounded in that workshop.

"And the way you sneeze is adorable too."

"Come on, Severus, stop flattering me! There's no need… I'm fine now, I won't cry anymore," she promised, her ears turning red as she heard herself inside his head pouring her tormented heart out against the man's shoulder, staining his hair and shirt with tears and snot in the process.

Looking for an excuse to avoid seeing that arrogant sneer on Severus's face, she took another sip from the cup.

"And about the coffee, to tell you the truth, it's more water than anything," she said, holding back a laugh at his annoyed expression.

"Such a demanding lady!" Severus leaned against the table, shaking it so much that the cup teetered near the edge and fell.

"Watch out!"

Tristessa bellowed and stood up only to see that the elf had been much faster than her. He hadn't moved his cane, but the crystal he held had emitted a phosphorescent violet light, a sign the girl already recognized as the casting of an elemental gravity spell.

"Attractor."

Although spoken in a low voice, Severus's voice sounded charged with energy, giving the word the qualities of elemental power. The glyph corresponding to the spell appeared, and the effect was instantaneous: the cup and its contents stopped before touching the floor.

"Let it be known that this is your fault for leaving the cup so close to the edge. I don't have rats in my entresol," he said, offended as he took the cup suspended in that gravitational field and using it to retrieve all the liquid that was floating in the same, chaotic way. "I may have a couple nests of arachnions, but rats? Never in the house of a gentleman like me."

"Speaking of home, I have a question… Forgive me if I sound rude," she began, taking the recovered cup the elf offered her, not having lost a single drop. "But if you're a thaumaturge, can't you make this place less…dilapidated?"

"What?! You offend me, girl!"

Arms crossed over his chest and still holding his catalyst, Severus leaned back against the table, but this time, it didn't move an inch, causing Tristessa to briefly check for the presence of another glyph nearby to explain such sudden stability.

"You underestimate thaumaturgy. Miracles are proportional to one's magical capacity; that means, that some thaumaturges can summon a storm, while others only a couple drops of water. And if I wanted to transform this house into a mansion, I'd be forced to squeeze my soul like an orange until nothing remains for the timeless void."

"I didn't mean a mansion, but something… Nah, forget it, I get the point: like with everything, you need money."

"Exactly! And since I'm the worst thaumaturge and alchemist in the city, this is the best I can aim for."

Severus winked at the girl, who looked at him with a suspicious, frowned gaze.

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"Come on, don't look at me like that… I'm not looking for your pity or anything. I'm just telling it like it is: no thaumaturge would faint from casting a few spells, except me. That's all here is to it."

In silence, Tristessa finished that coffee saved by the application of gravitational magic. She would have liked to say at least a few words to him so he wouldn't criticize himself like that. Not after having seen him act so brave and noble in past timelines…

"Like a true hero… Not like me, who can't even save myself on my own."

But she wasn't supposed to know anything about him. Wanting to tell him about events that never happened, or about his worth when he hadn't even spoken to her before that morning, was going to sound condescending.

"You said Higgs brought you here, right? You were lucky to meet him, otherwise others might have thrown stones at you. People with a lot of Discord in their souls aren't welcome in the slums. They're frightening," the elf commented, changing the subject definitively.

"Higgs told me the same thing," she said, hiding her irritation at this collective rejection. "Is there a reason for that, or is it just hatred because I remind them of Vel'Moran or the Dark Lady?"

"Both reasons. You must understand that ten years ago, when the Coven attacked the city, the easiest children to snatch were those from the slums. And their captors were witches with their evil souls filled with Discord," Severus explained, causing Tristessa to bite her lower lip, forced to swallow her anger. "It's wrong to lump all carriers of dark souls together, yes, but the wounds of the families who live in these neighborhoods won't heal so easily, nor will their painful memories be erased overnight."

"Yes… I understand."

Severus nodded, satisfied, and yet unaware that Tristessa's words hid all the darkness represented by the concept she shared with those people regarding painful memories.

Because that was all she had created inside her head since arriving in Nekrom.

"Higgs didn't care about my soul, not even for a nobody like me."

"He's a good boy, very hard-working. If only he didn't ask me for so many alms…"

"Is he a priest?"

"Yes, but he doesn't have his own diocese to practice the heterodox religion. That's why he's a wandering priest, helping those in need on the streets." Severus waited a few seconds, seeing if Tristessa would ask anything else. "Do you understand what I'm talking about, or do you need me to explain? I still find it hard to believe your case of amnesia. I've never seen anything like it."

Before being invited into the workshop, after crying so many tears until her eyes were dry, Tristessa had told the blood elf that she knew nothing about her life until a few days ago.

She still hadn't told him anything about the reason for her coming to his workshop… And the worst part was that Severus seemed to have misinterpreted her presence there, as if her main objective was to turn to him for a solution to her amnesia.

"It will be very difficult to help you; I won't lie to you. First, I'll have to speak with some healers I know, perhaps the professors at the Academy… Damn, seeing those pompous old men again makes me feel a bitter taste in my mouth."

"Severus…" Tristessa tried to say, but the elf was already in his own little intellectual world, walking toward the only shelf of books to pick up one with a cover that exquisitely detailed the human heart and brain.

"The mind is a very difficult place to manipulate. The slightest mistake could cause you to completely regress, or incapacitate you, or kill you, of course…"

"Severus!" she shouted, this time managing to interrupt him and forcing him to look at her, startled and blinking several times. "S-sorry, my amnesia… Yes, I would like your help, but first there is something more important. Something that can't wait because."

That statement made Severus lose control of his hand, allowing the book to fall and shake the entire ground floor, exposing its inherent fragility by sending layers of dust flying everywhere.

"You say there's something more important than your memories? Do you have any idea what you're talking about? Your past, your childhood, your family, even your personality! Everything is lost in your head!" the elf shouted, not in a burst of fury, but in absolute astonishment.

His interest in Tristessa had just reached a stratospheric level, causing him to return to her side and grant her his undivided attention, manifested in eyes that would never lose sight of her.

"Tell me, what's so important?" he asked, equally nervous and expectant. "What could be more important than your own existence?"

"…"

A question that made Tristessa, rather than feeling intimidated by those mannerisms to which she was almost accustomed, lower her gaze a bit.

She knew the answer… But a noxious poison in her heart wanted to make her say something else. A dark fire that burned slowly, calm and patient, as if aware that its own spread was inevitable.

The selfishness of knowing that, no matter how much she tried to hide it, the desire for her own well-being and survival had never ceased to come first.

The desire not to die, tied to the purest manifestation of fear of Death.

"You are a piece of shit, Tessa."

Forced to close her eyes for a moment, the girl prused her lips in resistance and opposition to that maternal voice that denigrated her as if it were the absolute truth.

Opening them, she looked into the eyes of that attentive blood elf, oblivious to her internal battle.

And she lied, betraying her own feelings:

"More important than my own existence…is that of the Mercer-Archeos family."

She took another breath, having waited two and a half days that felt like an eternity for that moment, and continued:

"In three days, the Coven will invade their home and kill them all.

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