The Astral Dogma

Xin strolled through the bustling market, weaving between vendors hawking their wares. The vibrant scents of fresh produce, spices, and baked goods filled the air as he ticked items off the list he'd scribbled onto a crumpled piece of paper. He'd volunteered to handle the shopping for their newly built house—not just because he wanted to contribute, but because it gave him some much-needed time to clear his head. It had been a long and tumultuous few months, and this moment of normalcy felt almost surreal.

His cart was already piled high with essentials: bags of rice, fresh vegetables, cuts of meat, and even some sweets he thought Belial might appreciate, the man would never admit to never stopped talking about sweets. As Xin navigated the narrow aisles of the open-air market, his thoughts wandered. Every so often, he'd stop to inspect a vendor's goods, exchanging polite words before moving on. The familiar chatter of bartering customers and the rhythmic clinking of coins in baskets served as a comforting backdrop.

Just as he thought he'd finished, Xin's eyes caught a polished sign hanging over a small shop tucked at the edge of the market: "Strumming Phoenix: Instruments and Repairs." He slowed his pace, his gaze drawn to the instruments displayed in the window. The guitars stood out, their polished wood glinting in the afternoon sun. He paused, his steps faltering as memories surfaced—memories of evenings spent strumming melodies, of music filling spaces now burned to ash. The fire that had consumed their previous home had claimed more than just walls; it had taken away his cherished guitar collection, a loss that still gnawed at him.

Unable to resist, he stepped inside, a small bell jingling to announce his arrival. The faint scent of varnish and freshly worked wood greeted him, and the interior was warm and inviting. Rows of guitars, violins, and other stringed instruments lined the walls, each one a testament to craftsmanship and care. Xin ran his fingers along a sleek black acoustic guitar on display, its silver inlays shimmering under the light. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice from behind him. Turning, Xin saw the shopkeeper, an older man with silver-streaked hair and a kindly smile, watching him with interest. 

"Yeah," Xin admitted, his voice soft. "It's been a few days since I played." 

The shopkeeper nodded knowingly. "That one's handcrafted. Solid spruce top. Its sound is something else—feels like it can resonate with your soul." 

Xin chuckled faintly, brushing his fingers over the strings. "My collection was destroyed in a fire. I haven't touched a guitar since." 

"Then this might be just what you need," the shopkeeper encouraged, stepping back to let Xin explore further. 

After a few moments of quiet strumming and contemplation, Xin made his decision. The guitar felt right in his hands, like reconnecting with an old friend. He left the shop with the instrument slung across his back, a bittersweet smile on his face. It wasn't just a purchase; it felt like reclaiming a small piece of himself that had been lost in the flames.

With the groceries loaded into a sturdy bag and the guitar case strapped securely across his back, Xin decided to make one last stop before heading home. The Phoenix Guild dorms loomed in the distance, their red-and-gold banners fluttering in the gentle breeze. He'd been meaning to check in on Jia, who was recovering there after their most recent mission. The ordeal had left her battered but alive—a fact she tried brushing off as if everything was okay, though Xin knew better. Her shyness and stubbornness often masked the toll these missions took on her.

As he approached the dorms, two guild guards at the entrance greeted him with polite nods. "Here to see Jia?" one of them asked, recognizing him immediately. 

"Yeah," Xin replied simply. "Thought I'd check in." 

The dorms were lively as always, with guild members bustling through the halls, some engrossed in strategy discussions while others lounged in the common areas. Xin navigated the familiar corridors with ease, eventually stopping outside Jia's door. He knocked lightly before stepping inside.

Jia was seated cross-legged on the bed, a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a thick book in the other. Her short, messy hair framed her sharp features, and her piercing gaze flicked up to meet Xin's as he entered. 

"Well, lord grocery ," she teased, setting the book aside. "What's the occasion?" 

Xin smirked, setting the bag of groceries by the door and carefully placing the guitar case on the small table. "Just wanted to check on you. And maybe distract you with this," he said, patting the case. 

Jia's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Is that new?" 

"Yeah," Xin admitted, unzipping the case to reveal the sleek black guitar. "Figured it was time to replace what I lost. Thought you might want to hear something." 

Jia leaned back against the wall, her arms crossed and a skeptical smirk on her lips. "You trying to serenade me, Xin? Because if you are, you'd better be good." 

Xin laughed, pulling the guitar from its case and settling into a chair across from her. He tuned it quickly, his practiced hands moving with ease despite the time that had passed since he last played. Then, without a word, he began strumming a soft, soulful melody. The music filled the small room, rich and resonant, each note carrying an undercurrent of loss, resilience, and hope.

Jia closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound wash over her. When the song ended, she opened them again, her sharp expression softened into something warmer. "Not bad," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

"High praise coming from you," Xin replied, setting the guitar aside with a grin. 

They talked for a while after that, their conversation weaving between lighthearted banter and more serious topics. Xin filled her in on the progress of the new house, the mundane but satisfying task of rebuilding after their losses. Jia, in turn, shared snippets about the guild's activities and the strategies she'd been mulling over for the technological hall. Despite her regular shyness towards others she seemed void of most emotions but was the closest with xin , he could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the subtle signs of someone who carried more weight than she let on.

As he stood to leave, Jia stopped him with a quick, "Hey, Xin." 

He turned, raising an eyebrow. 

"Thanks. For coming by. And for the music. I didn't realize how much I needed that." 

Xin nodded, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face. "Anytime." 

He paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "Hey, you want to hang out tomorrow too?" 

Jia raised an eyebrow but didn't hesitate. "Sure. Just don't expect me to go easy on you in whatever you're planning." 

The sun was setting as Xin made his way back through the quiet streets, the guitar resting securely on his back and the empty grocery bag in hand. The warm hues of dusk painted the city in gold and amber, a serene contrast to the bustling market he'd left behind. For the first time in a long while, Xin felt a sense of peace—not because everything was perfect, but because he was beginning to reclaim the parts of himself he'd thought were lost.