Soulbound: Embers of Defiance

Chapter 20: Under the Full Moon

After breakfast, we followed Finn across the sprawling complex towards the far end. Finn's workshop, nestled amidst a chaotic jumble of outbuildings, was exactly as I'd pictured it from the whispers that followed him – a testament to his personality as much as his reputation.

Unlike the regimented order of the living quarters, this small, ramshackle structure leaned precariously to one side, its warped wooden door hanging askew on a single rusty hinge. A motley assortment of tools peeked out from beneath the crooked eaves – a dented metal toolbox overflowing with screwdrivers and wrenches, a length of frayed rope coiled like a sleeping serpent, and a collection of mismatched gears that seemed to defy any conceivable purpose.

Pushing open the creaking door with a tentative hand, I was greeted by a cacophony of sights and smells that instantly assaulted my senses. Sunlight slanted through a network of cobwebs, illuminating a workbench piled high with what could only be described as odds and ends: empty vials of unknown origin, strange powders nestled in unlabeled jars, and half-finished contraptions that resembled nothing so much as the feverish creations of a mad inventor. In the corner, a rickety birdcage sat precariously atop a stack of dusty books, its sole occupant a magpie with a single beady black eye fixed on us with unnerving intensity.

The air itself hung heavy with the mingled scents of burnt wood, something vaguely floral (though a well-trained part of me suspected it might just be mold), and a sharp, underlying tang that made me wrinkle my nose in immediate suspicion.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Finn announced with a flourish, gesturing grandly at the cluttered space. "Don't mind the mess, it all has a purpose... eventually."

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the dubious claim. This wasn't just messy, it was a controlled explosion waiting to happen. Yet, despite the initial chaos, a spark of curiosity ignited within me. Perhaps, in this unconventional environment, amidst the clutter and concoctions, we might just learn something unexpected, something that could prove just as valuable as wielding a sword.

"Well, this is certainly... unique," Kass remarked, her usual bluntness cutting through the air. "Are you sure we won't accidentally set something off just by breathing in here?"

Finn chuckled, a nervous edge to the sound.

"Nah, most of the volatile stuff is locked away. Although, maybe don't touch that glowing green vial over there. Pretty sure it makes frogs sing opera."

I shuddered, picturing a chorus of amphibian Bordoni.

"Charming."

Ignoring our skepticism, Finn launched into a surprisingly detailed explanation of lock picking. His nimble fingers danced across a series of homemade tools, demonstrating with practiced ease how to manipulate the delicate inner workings of a lock. Kass absorbed the information quickly, her brow furrowed in concentration as she practiced on a spare lock Finn had provided.

I, on the other hand, found myself drawn to the strange assortment of ingredients on the workbench.

"What about those powders?" I asked, pointing to a row of vials filled with substances in various shades of purple, green, and what looked suspiciously like crushed earthworms.

Finn's eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Ah, those are the fun ones! We've got sleeping draughts, itching powder guaranteed to make a troll reconsider his life choices, and even a truth serum I'm still working on – though the last batch made a goat confess to stealing the King's socks, so..." Finn waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, a minor setback."

Kass snorted. "So, what else are we supposed to be learning, Finn? How to identify edible mushrooms?"

A satisfied grin spread across Finn's face.