Maich the Peddler: I still think you're laying it on a little thick.
Maich pats Dexter's back, signaling him to search faster.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Can't whatever you have to say wait till I've dug it up, Maich?
Dexter is half-plunged inside Maich's crate as he searches its contents.
Dexter the Unlucky One: How do you ever find anything in this big thing?
Dexter stands up, his face black as if he'd just stuck it up a chimney.
Maich the Peddler: Whoa! You must've spilled my nightfall powder. I'll charge you for that!
Maich casually reaches into the crate and pulls out a brand-new Ouija board.
Maich the Peddler: How many have you broken this week? At this point, you should just get them wholesale. I can cut you a deal, you know.
Dexter the Unlucky One: What were we just talking about?
Maich the Peddler: That girl, Mercuria.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh yeah. I mean, come on. A stranger sees you for the first time and says, "You're flowing all over the market."
Dexter the Unlucky One: Why should I believe her? And why are you taking her side? I thought we were buddies!
Maich the Peddler: But you felt a bit better when she touched your face, didn't you?
Dexter hesitates, eventually giving a reluctant nod.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Alright, I admit, I did feel better.
Maich the Peddler: Why not try her healing ritual?
Across from the tent, Mercuria stands quietly by her sign.
"Purification Ritual—Banish the darkness, soothe the soul, and welcome the light of calm within."
Dexter the Unlucky One: She plays a good game with her ads. Makes more sense than her usual chatter, anyway.
Maich the Peddler: Oh, she's savvy for sure—knows how to fend for herself.
Maich the Peddler: But maybe not in a business sense. She's offering these rituals for free.
Dexter glances at Maich, who is still looking over at Mercuria.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Did you guys go to one of her rituals? How was it?
Maich the Peddler: Oh, that was good.
A look of satisfaction spreads across Maich's face as she recalls the ritual.
Maich the Peddler: The whispers in my ears are gone now, and the shadows in the corners of my eyes too.
Maich the Peddler: You gotta try it, Dex, believe me.
Dexter gives a noncommittal shake of his head.
Maich the Peddler: Listen, Dex, I really don't think that the strange stuff going on at the market is Mercuria's doing.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh, you're talking about me suspecting her of setting me up?
Maich the Peddler: Yeah.
Maich the Peddler: I'm pretty sure you already know that she's not doing anything that'll cause any harm, right?
Dexter fiddles with the Ouija board in his hands. He flips it over several times.
Dexter the Unlucky One: What if it really was me who made everyone uncomfortable?
Maich the Peddler: Hmm, maybe you'll feel better after Mercuria's purification ritual. Then you won't be, um, flowing everywhere, or whatever.
Dexter looks like he has more to say, but he bites it back.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh, alright.
Dexter the Unlucky One: I'll check it out, then. Just hope she doesn't purify me out of existence.
Maich the Peddler: What are you so worried about? You can handle yourself!
She gives Dexter a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
Dexter the Unlucky One: By the way ...
Dexter the Unlucky One: You got enough exorcism incense burning there? I can hardly see your face.
Maich the Peddler: Oh! Phoebe gave this to me. Didn't cost a dime, so it's no biggie.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Alright, alright.
Dexter shrugs, leaves some cash, and takes off.
Evening has arrived, signaling the commencement of the ritual. A crowd congregates in the plaza.
Their collective focus is captured by the newly ignited bonfire.
Ritual Participant I: She's here.
This phrase ripples from the front of the crowd to the back as everyone prepares their tools for the ritual.
Everyone but Dexter. He hangs back at the edge of the group.
Mercuria: Welcome to the healing ritual.
Mercuria: Now, grab your white sage or crystal, and let's get started.
Everyone raises their implements, ready for the ritual.
Ritual Participant II: Forgot to bring some? Here, share mine.
Having noticed Dexter's vacant expression, the participant graciously gives him half of their sage.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh, no one told me to bring any. Thanks.
Ritual Participant II: Don't mention it. It's free, just over there.
Dexter looks in the pointed-out direction and sees a small stall.
Beside it, the sign reads "White Sage, White Crystals."
Dexter the Unlucky One: Was that sign there the whole time?
Ritual Participant II: Uhh, I think so.
Mercuria: You can't seem to focus at all.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Man! Why's that popping into your head right now?!
Dexter's agitation mounts.
Ritual Participant II: Hmm? What was that?
The participant turns back to face him.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh, nothing.
Ritual Participant II: My bad. Thought I heard something.
The participant turns away, edging a little further from Dexter.
Mercuria: Now, if you have white sage, light it. If you have a white crystal, hold it up to the moonlight.
Mercuria's voice drifts from the front, quiet but audible.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Hey, got a light?
Dexter taps the participant beside him.
Ritual Participant IV: Nah, I got the crystal. Check with the dude on your right.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Sorry, my bad. I thought you were the one who gave me the white sage.
They've already moved on, focused solely on the crystal in their hand.
Mercuria: You can't seem to focus at all.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Ugh, forget her, man. She's got you totally mixed up.
Ritual Participant V: Get your foot off me!
Ritual Participant III: Oops, sorry. I thought you were trying to push to the front.
Ritual Participant V: I've been standing right here the whole time. I haven't moved an inch!
There is a faint sense of unease around Dexter.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Huh?
As his heart starts to thump harder, the unease around him grows into a ruckus. It's spreading from where he's standing.
Ritual Participant IV: Huh? Me?
Ritual Participant III: Leave me alone, okay?!
Ritual Participant II: Hey guys, what's happening?
Ritual Participant III: Oh!
The crowd recoils from the scream, leaving the participant in their own little circle.
Having noticed the disturbance, Mercuria approaches.
The kindled bundle of herbs leaves a trail of smoke as she walks.
Mercuria: It's shattered, but it's still a fine piece of crystal.
Mercuria picks up the fallen pendulum from the ground and returns it to the participant.
Dexter's legs go weak.
Dexter the Unlucky One: She knows the truth. She knows I'm the one to blame!
Ritual Participant II?: Yeah, that's him! I shouldn't have shared the herbs with him.
Ritual Participant III?: You brought bad luck to the entire market, and you're still bringing it now!
Dexter backs away, trying to blend into the crowd.
But Mercuria spots him instantly.
Dexter the Unlucky One: No.
He backs away.
Maich the Peddler?: This guy? He gave me a hard time. Even the inside of my lungs smell like incense now.
Cooper the Healer?: I have to redo my eyeliner every morning because of him!
Mercuria: Please calm down, Dexter.
She comes closer, still holding the burning sage.
Dexter can almost see the energy dissipating under her feet.
Maybe he'll be the next to vanish.
Dexter the Unlucky One: It wasn't me.
Mercuria: This won't hurt you, Dexter.
The crowd has already cleared the area of scattered spiritual energy around Dexter. He slips and falls to the ground.
Dexter the Unlucky One: No!
Dexter curls up, as if it would allow him to burrow underground, to a place where Mercuria can't find him.
But a cold hand brings his world back to quiet stillness.
Mercuria: You're okay, Dexter.
Mercuria raises her voice as she moves to guide the ritual participants.
Mercuria: Please calm down.
Mercuria: Breathe in ... and out ...
Mercuria: Now, feel my energy.
Mercuria: Your excess of emotion is tormenting you. You're worn down, Dexter.
Like a ruler drawn over uneven sand or a straw sweeping away the foam above the rim of a cup.
Dexter fits snugly into the container that is himself.
Dexter the Unlucky One: Oh ...
Dexter's breathing gradually regulates, like a crumpled piece of paper opened and pressed flat.
Mercuria smooths out every crease. Soon, Dexter is so relaxed that he can barely open his eyes.
Mercuria: You're alright now, Dexter.
Those were the last words Dexter heard that night.