Pairing Echoes

20260314

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

I know desperation when I see it. Any seller of, ahem, metaphysically enhanced items develops that sense quickly. (“Curse” is such a loaded term.) In this case, there’s an intriguing thread of wistfulness drawing the worn, dirty figure to peruse my stall. Her greasy nose almost touching the glass of my display cases. (I was grateful for that, as I didn’t want to have to clean them.)
For each case she skims over anything except rings, and most of those get only a cursory glance. She’s clearly after something specific. Looking for a lost family heirloom? Or hunting a particular legend?
Then she looks up to meet my gaze, her grubby cheeks flushing, and growls “I’m not a thief!”
Ah. Also not a legend hunter, then, or she would surely know that I have no reason to worry about thieves.
Rather than tip my hand, I observe “Nor are you decisive. Or perhaps my wares fail to meet your standards?”
She snorts. Looks back down at the jewellery. Fiddles with something in her pocket - money, I suspect, based on the familiar motion. Then in a quiet, subdued tone she asks “Do you have any, um, plain ones? That are cheap?”
“Plain, eh?” An interesting request.
“The cheap’s more important.” She mumbles, barely audible, her face burning properly now.
“Let’s start with what you want and go from there. I offer instalment plans.”
She brightens up, though warily.
“So. What exactly are you after?”
“A, um, engagement ring.”
“Ah. Then, what would your sweetheart want?”
“Well…” She looks back at the assortment of rings. “Romantic. Like, obviously an engagement ring.”
“Romantic, eh? Let me think…” I reach into the wooden box under my counter, which holds all my ‘spare stock’. My fingers dance through the compressed space, seeking something which resonates with her request.
Several rings answer. Romance is a common cause for metaphysical weight.
I lay each out on the counter. Her eyes widen and focus on one in particular, a gold band with a cushion-cut ruby flanked by flatter, pear-cut verdelite, the narrow ends pointing outwards so the arrangement was evocative of a red rose.
The echo clinging to it is that of a bereft lover. Its recipient never got a chance to wear it; instead it was sold to pay for her funeral. An energy which could be soothed by finally getting to fulfil its purpose… assuming the relationship is loving and true. Otherwise sorrow would quickly repeat.
Reaching into the box again, I pull out a gold band embossed with a cluster of three roses and set it next to the engagement ring. It has little metaphysical energy to speak of, but its faint echo of contented marriage harmonises beautifully with the plaintive pulse of the other ring. “These would make a fine set, wouldn’t you agree?”
Her eyes glitter with hope and doubt. “They would… but how much?”
“I am a soppy old fool who’s a sucker for ‘love against all odds’ stories, so I’ll offer them to you for fifteen quid - on two conditions.”
“Mm-hm?” One eyebrow raises, but she’s definitely listening.
“Firstly, I insist on being invited to the wedding.”
“I-I’m afraid there’s probably not going to be a wedding, not a proper one.” She looks down, cheeks pink again. “Neither of our families’ll talk to us, they both threw us out on the street in fact, and…”
“Then I really must insist. Why, you can hold it at my shop. Convenient for us all that way.”
“Sure?” She looks confused but she’s grinning.
“Secondly… promise me that you will only give these rings to someone you have utmost confidence in. Where you are certain not only do you love each other now, you will both work to keep that love strong and true.”
Her grin widens, her chin rising. “Oh, that one’s easy! We’ve been through hell together, and I’d go through it all over for her, and I know she-”
She falters. Wariness - fear, even - coming back full-force.
“Excellent.” I pluck a suitable gift box from the crate and set about cutting slots in a piece of foam for the rings to sit in. “Fifteen pounds, then. Pay what you have now and give me the rest at the wedding.”
“…Alright?” She sets two fivers and a fistful of coins down on the counter. After a moment she whispers “You don’t mind?”
“No, no, while I’ll admit counting pennies is tedious, it’s part of the job. So long as it’s all legal tender I really can’t complain.”
She lets out a bemused snort. “That’s not… I meant… you know…”
“That the wedding will have two lovely brides?” I give a nonchalant wink.
“Yeah.” She relaxes, her smile returning.
“My dear, I have seen far too much of life’s oddities to think that remarkable. Much less worth making a fuss over.”
“Cool.” She accepts the box, catching my wrist with her other hand and giving a grateful squeeze. “Thank you so much. I’ve wanted to give her a proper proposal since forever, and these… she’ll be thrilled! And, um, if you’re really alright with us having a lil ceremony at your place…”
“I believe the term I used was ‘I must insist’.”
“Then I’ll talk to you as soon as I’ve got the rest of the money, and told our friends.”
“Ooh, excellent, do invite people. I’ll be sure to have a fresh stack of business cards.”
That makes her outright laugh, and she carries the smile as she hurries away, box gripped tight in her pocket. I set about clearing the other rings back into storage.
I do hope she’s right, and two more echoes will be peacefully eased. If not, well… the rings will find their own way back. It’s all part of the job.

Prompt was “A character wants to propose to their love, but can’t afford a ring.”