this is planned to be a series of 30 drabbles based on merriam-webster's word of the day. i'm also currently a few days behind so please bear with me lol.

word definitions will be at the end of every chapter.

When the star-shaped charm broke, Xehanort didn't take it to a glassworker.

From behind the cash register, the middle-aged mage pulled out a small, strangely glittering magnifying glass and leaned over to briefly inspect the charm—or rather, what was left of it. It was bent inward into a sharp but shallow V-shape, one of the orange-yellow panes fractured in one long clean crack. Another pane lay beside it on the stone counter, whole but popped clear out of its frame.

"What happened to this thing?" he asked with a severe, puzzled frown.

"It was like that before... bent and cracked, that is. That pane fell out yesterday after I accidentally dropped it."

The mage hummed and set the magnifying glass aside with a click on the carved granite. "Come back in two days. I'll need to look at it more closely and estimate the costs before I can give you my verdict."

Xehanort bowed.

Two days later, he returned. "Can you fix it?"

The mage peered up at him from behind his rimless bifocals with a frown. "Where did you say you got this charm from?"

"I didn't say," Xehanort said stiffly.

"Hm, of course. Well," the mage pushed up his glasses, "I can certainly fix the superficial damage. The bent silver frame is no problem, nor is the pane that fell out. The cracked glass is a bit tougher but ultimately not an issue either. However, the magic worked on this glasswork is something entirely different."

"What magic?"

"You didn't know? You came to me instead of a normal craftsman."

"I..." Xehanort stammered, a storm whirling in his mind. "No, I—I didn't know."

"I see. There are multiple enchantments on this glasswork. Spells to protect the glass and the frame, to keep the rope tight and the silver from tarnishing. That's why the glass is fractured here like so," he said, tracing the crack with the tip of a finger, "and not outright shattered. It's the same with the pane that fell out and likely with how little the metal frame's been bent compared to the amount of force that must've been applied in order to do this much damage through the enchantments. You don't know what happened to this glasswork?"

Xehanort hesitated, knowing that he had no clue, and yet—something. Something vicious and black.

The mage watched him expectantly, and finally he shook his head.

"Whatever it was, it must have been something impressive," the mage mused, turning the charm over in his hands. "Though the enchantments were stronger in the end. The spellwork is very well-done and precise. I'm not sure I could have done the same; spells of protection aren't my personal forte. They must have been a skilled practitioner."

Inexplicable pride bloomed in Xehanort's heart, and he nodded.

"There's another enchantment as well, and this one's curious. It's very difficult to pin down—I've never seen its like before—but it seems to be linking this glasswork to something else."

Xehanort shook his head at the question in the mage's eyes. "I wouldn't know what it is."

"Well, it's very unique. Complex as well. Forging a magical connection to another object when it's not for communication is uncommon to say the least. Do you know if this glasswork possibly has any other like it? If the maker crafted other pieces like this? It may be linked to them as a kind of notation or personal signature."

"No, I don't."

The mage shook his head. "A shame that you know so little about this piece. It's marvelous work. Anyway, the issue with the enchantments is the beating they've taken from whatever damaged the glass and frame. Normally I don't see this occur with such strong spellwork, but... in layman's terms, they're fraying, all of them. If they're not repaired, the enchantments will eventually break and release a significant amount of energy before falling apart."

"That sounds ugly," Xehanort murmured.

"Indeed it would be. Theoretically I can repair them, but it will take some time and frankly, it will be expensive. It's delicate work, especially when one of the enchantments is something I'm completely unfamiliar with. However, I would like to present a counter offer." The mage leaned forward, earnest. "I would like to buy this from you."

Xehanort tensed. "Excuse me?"

"I would like to buy this from you," he repeated, pushing up his glasses again. "It's intriguing and quite a valuable piece; the frame is silver, and as a result it's also very conducive to magic. Personally I would value this at about 75,000 munny."

"75,000?"

"It's negotiable, but yes. What do you say?" The mage's eyes glowed with scholarly fascination as he gazed at the charm again, before jumping where he stood as Xehanort slammed his hands down on the counter with enough force to rattle the pieces against the granite.

"This," he growled, lip curling, the wind rushing in his ears, "is not for sale."

The mage stared at him with alarm, eyes wide, and abruptly Xehanort came back to himself, perturbed as he pulled away. "I apologize, sir," he said. "Deeply. I went too far. But I only want to get the charm fixed. I'm not interested in selling it."

"Ah." The mage nodded several times, clearly disappointed but still unsettled as he gathered the charm and loose pane of glass to place somewhere behind the counter again. "All right then. Let me give you a quote on the repair costs."

As he continued to explain the pricing, Xehanort's thoughts drifted away to puzzle over his outburst instead—with little success.

Why?

assay
a-SAY | verb

1: a: to analyze (something, such as an ore) for one or more specific components
b: to judge the worth of; estimate

2: try, attempt

3: to prove to be of a particular nature by means of analysis