⚔️Serberia

"What a strange fellow," Alessia thought, not unkindly, as she read Yan Dere's musings on the complex intricacies of Airisufir's social structure and the unique path of its men. "A sense of inferiority... that's certainly not something this master of the elements needs to fear. Not even Karia could humble his pride, and not even Arteria could reason with him! And how seriously this man takes himself..." Alessia read quickly: some passages she dismissed as old and obvious truths, others she considered unworthy of close attention, mere wordplay. In short, she was amusing herself rather than reading. Yan Dere's discoveries in the "unique" and "mysterious" Airisufir culture could have made many a comedian proud. "Functionality sacrificed for aesthetics. I understand. And he's also an architect, in addition to his other virtues... Astrea's fondness for sweets made Airisufir a champion in the production of confectionery... Why are you so cruel, writer... hah, haha," Alessia honestly tried to suppress her laughter, but when the author came up with such lines, it was beyond her modest feminine strength. "Oh, what a talent! He can both flatter and tease." This was probably worth a hundred seliks. Maybe she would read it again sometime, but for now, Alessia tossed the book aside, sprawled in the chair in a decidedly ungraceful pose, and, closing her eyes, remembered the dazzling streets of Clematis. The tall spires were lost in the azure sky, and when the sun poured over the city, it seemed as if both the city and its inhabitants had risen to the very clouds. Perhaps, in reality, it was not quite so, or even not at all as she remembered, but she didn't care. A knock on the door. "Who's there?" Alessia instantly straightened up and gave her face a serious expression.