The wish

The susurrus winds blew hard as the sky dampened, but the mood of the people on the ground deemed the somber effects that it was giving ineffective.

Isaac — who had taken off his drenched coat at some point and was only wearing a white dress shirt — was helping out the refugees who managed to survive the battle, noticed someone from the corner of his eyes.

"Ms. Sotheby?" Approaching the young lady, Isaac decided to initiate a conversation. "What are you doing?"

The young Sotheby, who was rummaging through a pile of rubble, looked up to see Isaac's figure standing near her, observing her with a curious look in his eyes.

"Ah, you're Mr. Isaac, right?" Seeing him, Sotheby politely smiled. "You were in the fight earlier and had been the one offering those protections... Nice to meet you! I'm Sotheby, but you already know that..."

"As for what I'm doing, I'm trying to salvage what Forget Me Not left behind in his concoctions..." Returning to her scavenging, she answered his question. "I believe that I can get something out of what he has made..."

"Oh... Can I help you then?" Seeing as how his hands were free from any current workload, he decided to lend a hand.

"Sure!" Sotheby was quick to accept, appreciating the kind gesture.

Together, the two of them scoured the destroyed tents as well as the crates left behind by the Manus. However, it didn't take long for Sotheby to find something noteworthy.

Picking up a crucible, her eyes gleamed as she enthusiastically examined its contents — as if sensing something from within.

Isaac approached her and immediately caught a whiff of the scent in the crucible. "That's... the beer that Forget Me Not handed out in disguise of potions... Is there something wrong with it, Ms. Sotheby?"

"No, no! It may look and smell like beer, but it's in fact a completely different substance altogether!" She quickly corrected Isaac. "The formula is completely different but it shares similarities with my hallucinogens!"

She then kept examining it more, engrossed in finding out the secrets that laid within. "Oh my gosh, just how did he create it? Just what is the most crucial ingredient?"

Isaac lingered for a while watching the young alchemist ponder through her conundrum — well, he wasn't much different too. Contemplating in his mind what to do next, he paused for a moment before opening his mouth, offering advice on a whim.

No, perhaps it was just his way to express a story.

His tone gentle, he spoke calmly to the young lady. "Ms. Sotheby, do you remember those refugees' dilemma? Did you observe what they needed the most and what they came here for?"

She looked at him, raising a brow. "Were they not here to receive Forget Me Not's potions to cure themselves of the Storm's effects?"

"Indeed, but look deeper into that. Ask yourself, what was it that really drove them to accept potions from the detestable arcanists they loathed so much?" He made sure that his words would guide her thoughts as he spoke. "They grew desperate and resorted to any means necessary to live — going as far as to throw away their bigoted perspectives and opinions for a chance of survival."

"Forget Me Not utilized that aspect to give them what they wanted, and as such, it served as the perfect ingredient for his supposed potions. Now tell me, Ms. Sotheby, what is that one crucial ingredient?"

He deliberately didn't tell the right answer and instead opted for her to figure it out on her own with the path he laid out for her — for he knew that the most effective way of teaching people was for them to realize the answer themselves, and the best kind of answer is a question.

"Crucial ingredients..."

Sotheby paused for a moment and seriously contemplated Isaac's questions for a moment — before a gleam of enlightenment flashed in her eyes, realizing what the answer had been all along.

"Wait! Is this it?! This is it!" A joyful expression appeared on her face as if the dots had connected themselves in her mind. "That one crucial ingredient that invokes the need for survival in someone and pushes them to pursue things beyond them!"

"Desire!"

"Desire."

Both of them spoke of the answer at the same — one delighted upon learning what it was and the other smiling softly watching her.

Having watched her gain the answer, Isaac was satisfied with what he had done and congratulated her. "Well done, Ms. Sotheby."

"Ha ha, this is also because of you, Mr. Isaac!" Sotheby turned to him and shook her head. "Your words made it easier for me to visualize the answer! Were you a teacher before, by any chance?"

"Well, between you and me, Ms. Sotheby — I sort of was." He answered enigmatically, purposely obscuring his words. "I'm glad that I still have it in me to teach, haha."

As the two of them spoke, they suddenly sensed someone approaching them and turned their heads, to which they saw who it was.

Approaching them with an amicable smile and sunglasses on her face, Regulus waved at the two of them.

"Hey there, you two! Yoo-hoo!" Regulus said, calling out to them. "Ms. Sotheby and Mr. Isaac, right?"

"Come over here! Vertin's making a list of everyone's wishes." She gestured at the tent behind her, where a line of refugees had gathered, each stating their own wishes to Vertin.

"Ooh! Wishes! I have lots of wishes! I'm coming!" Hearing this, the jubilant Sotheby expressed her desire to participate. She then turned to Isaac. "Come on, Mr. Isaac. Let's go!"

Isaac lingered for a moment before shaking his head. "I'll do it later. You go on first, Ms. Sotheby. I still have to help others out here."

"Alright then!" Finding his words not strange, Sotheby nodded and walked over to Regulus before the two of them went to the tent where Vertin was.

As for Isaac, he stood there in solitude for a while before turning around, the grayish-white fog in the surroundings faintly coalescing around him.

As he wandered the battered square full of tents, searching each and every one of them for salvage, he encountered something in one of the crates.

It was a mason jar with white parchment paper covering the insides that had a label stuck on its surface. Seeing this, a hint of surprise appeared on his face followed by a smirk.

"Whoa... Who knew I could find something like this here? And my favorite kind too..." He murmured to himself before opening the lid. Instantly, that signature aroma of what he frequently consumed in the past entered his nostrils. "This is it alright... Lapsang Souchong — my kind of black tea."

As an avid tea lover himself, Isaac loved this particular tea not only because of its flavor profile, but also because of its characteristics. That was because it had a strong smoky and piney aroma — kind of like his fog. As such, whenever he had the chance, he'd always sir down and have a cup of it.

Seeing as how the owner of the said mason jar was no longer around — God knows what fate befell them — Isaac decided to salvage it. At least in this way, they won't be wasted and get dissolved in the Storm.

Offering prayers and gratitude for the original owner, Isaac decided to go back and take a rest, the mason jar in his hand.

Approaching the area where the others were, Isaac lingered for a bit before approaching Vertin's tent, reading to give his wishes.

---

Isaac entered, and soon, he was in a secluded room with Vertin and Sonetto on her side.

"Good day, Ms. Vertin." Isaac greeted her first as he strode in. "You too, Ms. Sonetto."

"Mr. Isaac, you're here. I still haven't thanked you for your contributions thus far." Vertin stood up and thanked him. "Although you were suddenly dragged into this ordeal, you still stuck with us until the end. Thank you."

"Allow me to also offer my gratitude, Mr. Isaac." Sonetto also chimed in. "You and Ms. Druvis' contributions to the fight earlier were remarkable."

Hearing their gratitude, Isaac got flustered for a bit. Maintaining a level-headed demeanor, he chuckled lightly. "Thank you, both of you. Although I was just doing what I needed to do, I appreciate the kind gestures."

Vertin took this as a sign of humility from him and nodded. Then, picking up her pen, she spoke. "Alright, let's move on to your wish then, Mr. Isaac."

"If this was your last remaining hours, what would be your wish?"

It was such a simple question yet the weight behind it was immense. Since everyone already knew what would happen, this question was like the final verdict for their life. Well, it was true for some, since...

They would soon perish with the arrival of the Storm.

Isaac lingered for a bit, taking his sweet time to ponder what he would have really wanted right now. Since he already knew what would happen, he disregarded unnecessary things he wanted and instead opted for something feasible.

Then, after a while, he offered his wishes.

"I think the thing I'd want right now — especially in this cold, rainy weather — is a warm cup of black tea and a piece of pain d'épi. Nothing extravagant. Just that."

"To sit down and indulge in this simple meal is good enough for me." As he said so, a wistful smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, that sounds like a great wish."

And, in a strange way, it was a decent way to bid farewell to this era which would soon disappear — to sit down and watch it all vanish.