“Can you repair this?”
The sorcerer held a bowl of fine blue porcelain with veins of gold. The witch squinted until she could see the shards of a soul at the bottom of it.
The sorcerer nodded.
“How did you break it?”
“How do you know I broke it?”
“Nobody can break a soul but them whose it is. Hearts and spirits, yes, others can break those, but not souls.”
“I didn’t know that. Can you repair it?”
“It takes gold, like in your bowl.”
“I have lots of gold.”
“No, soul gold. Don’t you have any?”
“What is… No, where can I get some?”
The witch sighed.
“You’d need to talk to a priest, except priests don’t like to talk to people without a soul. It’s… You earn it, right? It builds up.”
“How, what do I need to do?”
“I’m not sure. Be good, I guess?” She shrugged. “Do good. Love, others and yourself. Help, give, feed. Stuff like that.”
“You can use soul pitch.”
“Oh! I saw that! A black goo that sort of splattered out when it broke… Ah. That is also earned, is it?”
“It is,” said the witch.
“I see. Could that also be used to mend a soul?”
“Could you use it?”
“But you wouldn’t.”
“I daresay there are those that would, but I won’t touch the stuff again.”
The sorcerer thought for a long time, then took a step back and squinted at the witch.
“Oh! It’s beautiful! Just like my bowl!”
“I… Thank you. I mended it myself.”
The sorcerer bowed.
“Thank you for your time. I will return when I have gold for you.”
“You are welcome.”
Posted as a serial story in 6 tweets, 4 toots, and one post , September 10.