The morning smelled like rain. Pilt walked through Port Vexis with a satchel full of coins earned from selling salvaged timber to a shipwright who did not ask questions. Forty silver. Not much. But enough.
His mind wandered as he moved through crowded streets, dodging merchants and sailors and people who still believed tomorrow would arrive on schedule.
'Two identities. Two masks. The loanshark with bounties in five territories. The humble honest merchant who helps the poor.'
He smiled at the thought. Neither was real. Both were necessary.
'The loanshark makes money. The merchant spends it. Together they create something that looks like generosity but functions like investment. Perfect balance. Until it collapses.'
A merchant called out, trying to sell him fruit.
Pilt activated his trait without thinking.
The future split into paths. He saw himself stopping. Saw the merchant's pitch. Saw the fruit was rotten beneath the skin. Saw himself walking away twenty seconds later, annoyed and poorer.
He kept walking. Did not stop.
The merchant's voice faded behind him.
'Thirty seconds. That is all I get. Thirty seconds to see what comes next. Enough to avoid bad deals. Not enough to see the knife that waits around the corner.'
He had learned the limits young. Learned them through mistakes that cost more than money.
The trait showed possibilities. Not certainties. Futures that might happen if variables remained constant. But variables never remained constant. People lied. Circumstances changed. The future he saw at second one was different from the future at second fifteen.
'Like reading a book where the ending rewrites itself every time you turn the page.'
He stopped at a corner where a woman sold flowers. Purple lilies among the arrangements. Expensive. Rare.
He activated the trait.
Saw himself asking the price. Saw her quote thirty silver. Saw himself negotiating down to twenty. Saw her accept.
Then saw the flowers wilt in his hands three days later because she had treated them with cheap preservatives.
He blinked. The vision faded.
Kept walking.
'Not today.'
The building rose from the waterfront like sculpture carved by someone who understood geometry better than humanity. Clean lines. Precise angles. Architecture that belonged to the Dao Dynasty, imported whole and reassembled stone by stone.
Pilt stopped in front of it. Admired the craftsmanship despite himself.
Knocked.
The door opened without sound. Inside, the space transformed. Minimalist. Every object placed with intention. Every surface clean enough to perform surgery.
Jing Xiu sat by a window overlooking the harbor. Sunlight filtered through paper screens, painting him in shades of gold. A teapot steamed on the table before him. Two cups waited.
He did not look up when Pilt entered.
"What brings you here?"
Pilt closed the door behind him. Approached slowly. Took the seat across from the medic without being invited.
"I need a kilo of purple lilies."
Jing Xiu's hand paused halfway to his teacup. Then continued. Lifted. Sipped.
"Lilies?"
"Yes."
"Ah. Of course." He set down the cup with deliberate care. "Let me procure them for you."
He stood. Moved to a cabinet carved from dark wood. Pulled out papers. A pen. An inkwell.
"Though you need to fill out some paperwork. This amount, anyone carrying without a prescription is against the law."
"Ah. The law." Pilt repeated the words like tasting something bitter. "Yes. I suppose it is illegal to do certain things."
Jing Xiu took the pen. Hovered it over the paper. Did not write.
"Like poisoning people?"
Pilt activated his trait.
Saw the next thirty seconds split into branches. Saw himself denying it. Saw Jing Xiu's expression close off. Saw the door shutting in his face, metaphorically if not literally.
Saw himself admitting it. Saw Jing Xiu's eyes sharpen with interest. Saw the conversation continue. Saw possibilities that might lead somewhere useful.
Saw a third path. The one where he smiled.
He chose the third path.
Pilt smiled. It was not the merchant's smile. Not the loanshark's smile. Something else. Something that showed teeth and meant it.
"Like poisoning people," he confirmed. "Though I prefer to think of it as aggressive negotiation. Poison is so final. So lacking in nuance."
Jing Xiu set down the pen. Sat back in his chair. Studied Pilt with eyes that had seen too much death to be shocked by implications.
"You are an interesting man, Pilt."
"I have been called worse."
"I am sure you have." Jing Xiu poured tea into both cups. Pushed one toward Pilt. "Tell me. Why purple lilies specifically? There are easier poisons. Cheaper. Less traceable."
Pilt picked up the cup. Did not drink. Just held it. Let the warmth seep into his palms.
"Because purple lilies are not poison. They are medicine. In the right doses. In the right hands."
"And in the wrong hands?"
"They become something else entirely."
Jing Xiu smiled. It was a small smile. Genuine.
"You remind me of someone from home. A merchant who sold silk in the eastern provinces. He had two shops. One sold fabric so fine the empress wore it. The other sold the same fabric treated with compounds that made skin itch and blister."
"Profitable?"
"Very. Until someone discovered the connection. Then he disappeared. Some say he was executed. Others say he simply became someone else. Started over in a new city with a new name."
Pilt sipped his tea. It tasted like flowers and regret.
"Which do you believe?"
"I believe that people who understand the difference between medicine and poison rarely die the way others expect them to."
They sat in silence for a moment. The harbor sounds filtered through open windows. Gulls crying. Ships creaking. Water lapping against stone.
"The Dao Dynasty," Pilt said. "You are from there."
"I am."
"Why leave?"
Jing Xiu looked out the window. At the ocean. At the purple void visible in the distance where continents gave way to nothing.
"Because the dynasty has rules. Many rules. About who can practice medicine. About who can learn which techniques. About bloodlines and hierarchies and the proper order of things." He turned back to Pilt. "I prefer Port Vexis. Here, nobody cares about any lineage and it has quite the scenery. "
"And purple lilies produce results."
"In the right hands."
Pilt activated his trait again. Saw the next thirty seconds. Saw Jing Xiu signing the paperwork. Saw himself leaving with what he needed.
But saw something else too. A flicker. A possibility that the medic was lying. That the lilies would be substituted. That this was a test.
He blinked. The visions faded.
'Cannot trust it completely. Never can.'
"I need them tonight," Pilt said. "Can you do that?"
Jing Xiu considered. His fingers drummed once against the table. A tell so small most people would miss it.
Pilt saw it. Filed it away.
"I can. But it will cost more."
"How much more?"
"Double."
Pilt activated the trait. Saw himself negotiating. Saw the price drop to one and a half times. Saw Jing Xiu accept.
But saw another path too. One where he paid double without argument. One where Jing Xiu's expression shifted from mercenary to respectful.
He chose the second path.
"Done."
Jing Xiu's eyebrows rose slightly. "You do not negotiate?"
"I negotiate when I have time. Tonight, I have other priorities." Pilt set down his teacup. "The people who burned the orphanage. The ones who are killing one person per day in the slums. They need to understand that actions have consequences."
"And purple lilies will teach them this lesson?"
"Purple lilies will help me have a conversation they cannot walk away from."
Jing Xiu laughed. It sounded like wind chimes made of broken glass.
"You are either very brave or very stupid."
"I have been told I am both." Pilt stood. "Tonight. After dark. I will send someone to collect them."
"And the paperwork?"
"Forge my signature. Make up a prescription. I trust your creativity."
He moved toward the door. Stopped. Turned back.
"One more thing. The symbols carved into the bodies. The ember designs. Have you seen them before?"
Jing Xiu's expression shifted. Something flickered behind his eyes. Knowledge. Recognition.
"I have."
"Where?"
"In the Dao Dynasty. Long ago. A cult that worshipped fire as divine purification. They believed the world needed to burn before it could be reborn."
"What happened to them?"
"The dynasty eradicated them. Publicly. Thoroughly. Made examples that lasted generations."
Pilt processed this. "And now they are here."
"Apparently."
"Why Port Vexis?"
Jing Xiu shrugged. "Why anywhere? Cults are like weeds. Cut them down in one place, they grow in another. Perhaps they came seeking the relic."
Pilt's hand moved to the pendant beneath his shirt. "What relic?"
"The one that was auctioned at the cathedral three months ago. The one that disappeared the night before the sale." Jing Xiu met his eyes. "You are looking for it too. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. Like a man searching for something he lost."
Pilt said nothing for a long moment.
Then smiled. Dark. Sharp.
"Tonight. Purple lilies. Do not disappoint me."
He left before Jing Xiu could respond.
Outside, the city continued its slow deterioration. Another body had been found while he was inside. Word spread through the streets like fire through dry wood.
Pilt walked through the panic with hands in pockets, yellow curls falling across his eyes.
'Thirty seconds. That is all I ever get. Thirty seconds to see the future and it is never enough.'
But sometimes thirty seconds was exactly what he needed.
He activated the trait. Saw a merchant approaching. Saw the sales pitch. Saw himself buying something he did not need.
Adjusted his path. Avoided the merchant entirely.
'Two identities. The loanshark who sees the future. The merchant who builds the present.'
He smiled despite everything.
'Neither one is real. But together, they might be enough to save what is left.'
The harbor spread before him. Purple void visible in the distance