“I’ll explain, then, so there are no mistaken assumptions. The world seeks balance in all respects. Whenever a practitioner works, they pay a price. Sometimes the price is overt. A soul for someone’s love. An eye for the service of a powerful spirit. The life of a companion to triumph over one’s enemies. Sometimes the price is less of a direct transaction. A favor to be paid later. Conversely, an oath given, with nothing expected.”
“Which raises problems, hm?” the young man said.
The old man met my eyes. “What happens when a debt isn’t paid? If you take, then die before you can give? Or the inverse?”
“You pass it on to your kids?”
“In some cases, yes. But those children might incur more of a debt. Over time, the debt accumulates. Perhaps two generations improve matters, working it off, and then the third undoes their hard work and adds more to the burden.”
“The problem is never resolved?” I asked. “Until some lawyer-practitioners show up and offer a deal, something that wipes all debts clear?”
“That is one option,” the woman said. “But I wouldn’t say the problem is never resolved. The universe rights itself.”
“How?” I asked. Why was the axe acting up? It was almost as bad as it had been outside, now.
The old man answered, “The cogs that operate in the background take to grinding you up instead. Funds, treasured belongings, friendships, love, they are all harder to find and easier to lose. Enemies, danger, chaos, and disruption find you more readily. In looser terms, all Others, spirits and practitioners get the sense, innate or otherwise, that they can and should work against your interests. Things start to fall apart, and the pieces fall down in the least convenient arragements for you.”
“The universe,” the young man said, “conspires against you.”
“Ah, hell,” I said. “That would explain a few things.”
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