The silver nugget Liriel had thrown at the Stone of Debt seemed to have bought more than silence; it bought a truce. For the first time in weeks, no new bill appeared pinned to our door with a knife. The sound of Kael's hammer was just a hammer—not a harbinger of another debt. Even Brom greeted us with a reluctant nod instead of a growl.
It was in this fragile peace that Elara found the next disaster.
She arrived at the inn with shining eyes, holding a faded leaflet. "Look! The Aurea Hot Springs! They say the waters have miraculous healing properties! They can wash away fatigue, heal old wounds... and maybe even cleanse the mind of... well, us."
Vespera grabbed the leaflet. "Hot water? Bubbling? Sounds... relaxing. And if someone tries to kill us there, at least we'll be clean."
Liriel read over her shoulder. "'Wash your worries away'? Awful grammar. But the concept of hydrotherapeutic immersion has its merits. My divinity feels... dusty."
I was skeptical. " 'Miraculous' waters usually mean 'outrageously expensive' or 'cursed.' Usually both."
"The leaflet says 'Adventurer-Friendly Prices'!" Elara insisted. "And think, Takumi. One day. Just one day without being hunted by creditors or cosmic artifacts."
The idea was tempting. One last taste of normality before the next cyclone of chaos hit us. I gave in.
The Aurea Springs lay in a serene valley, half a day's walk from Vaelor. The place was surprisingly beautiful. Light wooden pavilions connected by curved bridges over streams of steaming water. The air smelled of sulfur and wildflowers. There was even a wind chime that tinkled softly instead of falling on someone's head.
The attendant, a middle-aged woman with a calm smile and immaculate clothes, introduced herself as Lady Fleur. "Welcome, travelers. The waters of Aurea embrace all who seek renewal. A bath in the Main Springs costs five silver coins per person."
It was a reasonable price. Almost suspiciously reasonable. I paid for everyone, feeling a chill down my spine, waiting for the ground to open beneath us.
The Main Springs were a series of natural pools carved into the rock, fed by waterfalls of milky, warm water. Steam rose in graceful spirals. Other guests chatted quietly, their faces relaxed.
We split up. Elara went to a more secluded pool, promising to meditate. Vespera, laughing, jumped into the busiest pool, splashing everyone. Liriel found the deepest, hottest pool, lay on her back, and closed her eyes, her glass of wine floating beside her like a divine lifebuoy.
I entered a quieter pool and let the hot water envelop my tense muscles. For the first time in... forever... there were no complaints, no screams of alarm, no crashes of uncontrolled magic. Just the gentle bubbling of water and the distant tinkling of the wind chime.
Then I noticed. The chime's sound was growing... louder. And it was no longer pleasant. It was metallic, insistent—like the ringing of a cosmic alarm clock.
A man in the next pool, a fat merchant who looked like he'd washed away all his worries, suddenly straightened up. His eyes, once sleepy, were wide open and full of panic. "My books!" he shouted, his voice a squeal. "I forgot to record my travel expenses! The accounting's a mess!" He shot out of the pool and ran, still dripping, toward the changing rooms.
A woman lying near Liriel jumped to her feet. "The candle! I left a candle lit in the stable! It's going to burn everything down!" She ran off, leaving behind a mat and a trail of water.
The chime grew louder, turning into a carillon of pure anxiety.
Liriel opened one eye. "What an irritating noise."
Vespera, who had been making waves for fun, stopped. "Hey, everyone's acting... weird."
I looked around. The pavilion was descending into chaos. Guests were leaving the waters, their faces twisted with sudden memories of unfinished tasks, broken promises, small failures of daily life. The miraculous water wasn't washing their worries away—it was bringing them to the surface, amplified by the magic of the chime.
Lady Fleur appeared at the entrance of the pavilion, her serene smile still intact. "Ah, the Chime of Conscience. Sometimes, the waters don't just cleanse—they also… clarify. It's part of the purification process. Facing one's own truth."
"THIS IS PURIFICATION?" I shouted over the ringing, as a nobleman began to cry while confessing he'd stolen his sister's sweets as a child.
"In a way," she replied calmly. "Those who confront their small guilts leave lighter. The others… well, sometimes they run before paying." She looked straight at me. "The bill, sir. Would you like to settle it now?"
The chime rang with deafening intensity. I felt a stab of guilt for having doubted the reasonable price. I remembered breaking a vase at my grandmother's house years ago and never telling her. I remembered promising Elara I'd protect her and having put her in danger countless times. I remembered Brom's disappointed look…
I reached for my coin pouch. Maybe paying now was the only way to silence that sound.
"Stop."
Liriel's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the chime like a blade. She stepped out of the pool, water dripping from her silvery dress—which, somehow, was still dry. Her eyes were fixed on the wind chime hanging at the center of the pavilion.
"You're not clarifying anything," she declared, her voice heavy with divine authority. "You're just poking at wounds. This isn't purification—it's cheap sonic torture."
The chime rang again, defiant.
Liriel raised her hand. "You want truths? Here's one. My greatest guilt isn't abandoning my throne. It's underestimating the ridiculous stubbornness, the foolish courage, and the… worth of these mortals." She looked at me, at Vespera, at where Elara was. "And I don't need your waters or your noisy bell to remind me of that."
She snapped her fingers.
There was no explosion—only silence. The chime stopped. The wind bell, now just an ordinary piece of metal, swayed soundlessly.
The pavilion fell quiet, with only the bubbling of the springs remaining. The remaining guests looked around, confused, as the clouds of anxiety faded from their minds.
Lady Fleur lost her smile for the first time. "You… broke the chime."
"I freed it," Liriel corrected. "And I think we've had enough purification." She picked up her wine glass from the water. "The bill, please. And by the way, I'll be charging a fee for sonic-exorcism services."
In the end, we didn't pay anything for the bath. Lady Fleur, defeated and without her main artifact, simply begged us to leave.
On the road back to Vaelor, the silence was comfortable. Only the sound of our footsteps and the forest.
"You know," Elara said thoughtfully, "I think she was right in a way. About not needing the water to remind us of what matters."
Vespera punched my arm playfully. "Yeah! I remind myself every day how clumsy you are—no bell needed!"
I rubbed my arm, smiling. "And I remind myself how annoying you are."
Liriel walked ahead, but I saw her give a faint smile.
Peace, I realized, didn't come from magical waters or imposed silence. It came from accepting the chaos we were together. And maybe from having a goddess who preferred that chaos to the perfection of a throne.
Of course, the next day, we found a small bill under the door. It was from Lady Fleur.
"Cleaning Fee: Removal of Residual Divine Energy from Main Pool — 10 Silver Coins."
Some things, apparently, not even the strongest purification could wash away.