Ment
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***
A teenage boy was sitting on a bench, with a stack of books beside him. He was probably supposed to be reading them, but instead, the boy's attention was currently drawn to an eagle soaring in the distance over the forest near Folkvang. "Big," he thought. "Probably almost like a pterodactyl." Engrossed in this fascinating activity, it was no surprise that he was startled when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Why aren't you in school?!" someone shouted right in his ear. It was a good thing the boy was already sitting down, or he would hardly have stayed on his feet from the shock.
"S-Sky?" he managed, calming his wildly beating heart. "Dummy! What a dummy you are!"
"You're the idiot, Bast," the smirking girl said, putting her hands on her hips. "Mom didn't teach us to let our guard down."
"Why did you have to shout like that? I'm on vacation, everyone's on vacation after Akonia appeared, got it?!"
These two — Sky Brava Darvening-Okikot, 17, and Bastil Maximilian Darvening-Okikot, 13, were the younger children of Amamius Okikot and Erefir Linel Darvening, bearers of that proud double surname and equally proud double given names. Though they didn't always act accordingly... Sky, despite her young age, was already leading an active adventuring life, so it had been quite a while since she'd last seen her brother. This apparent quarrel between two yapping fox cubs was, in reality, a touching reunion.
"Weeeell, Akoooonia... I bet things were interesting around here, since you didn't send me a single message, you naughty brother?" Brava pulls out a hefty bag of coins. "Dance! Maybe then — I'll forgive you! But no promises!"
"What's that? You... What have you gotten yourself into this time?!"
"Remember Uncle Anpan from Crideaar? He gave me a great business idea, and I pulled it off successfully: I managed to sell talismans to all sorts of superstitious fools down south for fifty thousand!"
Yes, an outside observer would easily note that her face was terribly similar to her mother's, only she had her father's hair, which, combined with the appearance of the other children, led to the thought that in the competition for inheriting Erefir's traits, she had also managed to win — that's just the kind of person she was, conceding nothing to anyone... But, as one could tell from her character, Sky clearly had something from her father, or rather, even surpassed him: his love for money multiplied by her mother's love for adventure produced a particularly potent combination in the case of the younger daughter.
"W-wait, what? When did you learn to make talismans?!"
"You can't be serious?! How did you not get... arrested? Or even executed?!"
"Had to run from the guards a bit, but that just made it more fun," the daredevil shrugged. "Anyway, I bought some paper and spent a couple of nights with a brush and scissors. Now that's what I call a business!"
"Mom and Dad are going to be furious with you!"
"You're not going to tell them, are you? And that was just the warm-up, by the way. I've already come up with a great little scheme in Wiliya. Things are so bad there right now that it's actually good—I can totally tap into that endless financial flow... Don't look at me like that, nothing immoral, I'm just going to open a casino )) Besides, there's no real danger. If something bad happens to me, Mom will 'have a word' with them, and that country will cease to exist. Everyone knows that."
"... You scare me. T-that's why I didn't write to you!"
"Uh-huh, nice deflection, kid. Where are Mom and Dad?"
"... Probably busy, as always."
"Let's go to a café then? Don't bother with the books, who's going to steal them off the bench?"
"What if it rains? Better take them."
Sky looked skeptically at the cloudless sky and sighed. She walked over and started sorting through the stack of books:
"Alright, let me carry something. What interesting stuff do you have here... Ooooh! I haven't seen this one yet," she grinned, taking the magazine she'd found and leaving the rest for the boy to carry.
"What's in it?"
"Don't know, whether you grabbed it by accident or you're pretending, but nope, I'm not showing you now," she said, raising the magazine high into the air, out of reach of the teenage boy, and then she broke into a run. "Catch me!"
Although summer hadn't arrived yet, the café in Folkvang was already offering outdoor service on a picturesque terrace under the shade of cherry trees. Neither Sky nor Bastil were surprised to see Erefir there, sipping coffee and lost in thought, while the few other diners ate inside the warm establishment. She noticed the children. Smiled. Stood up to meet them and hugged them warmly.
"Migratory birds always return to their native lands. Hello, little chick," she said, stroking her daughter's head. The girl was already almost as tall as her mother but still received the corresponding treatment for a child.
It had always been this way with her. The Red Fury radiated an incomparable aura of power, confidence, and nobility onto everyone, including her own children, but contrary to any possible expectations, she used this aura not to boast or intimidate. No, the whole idea was for those around her to see in the Right Pillar their unwavering ally, their heroine. She worked tirelessly for this, carrying out both great and humble deeds, all in emulation of the only Hero she had ever known personally. Every person near her was not diminished but became part of something significant, and then it was they themselves who were significant.
"More than twenty years lived peacefully, and now I get this feeling again that the narrative has taken up its old praises. I give up," Erefir sighed inwardly.
"Mom?" the middle daughter asked.
"Everything's fine ) Tell me about yourself."
"Oh, nothing special. Flew off, did some quests, flew back... Oh, and I passed my pilot's test! Maybe I don't have to wait until I'm eighteen to get my license?"
"I'm not sure what you're suggesting... Let's do it by the book, you don't have long to wait, right, Sky? ) And until then... I think {the knight's name} hasn't shown you all the advanced maneuvers yet. Ask him to surprise you, and he will—he'll teach you, so you won't waste time."
"Then I'll ask him!"
During the ensuing warm conversation, both Brava and Max shared their achievements and impressions. Fragrant food, consisting of meat and vegetables—the best friends of young adventurers—was brought and they began to eat. Then Sky suggested:
"How about we play your favorite game, Mom? Questions-answers-questions-answers! ))"
"Do I have to tell you everything about myself? And that thing—what's it called—Uncle Guyon always brings it up—the 'arrived word,' right? Will that be a thing?" Bastil asked.
"Haaaa, I see your cunning here, Sky. You're offering me unfair terms..." the mother noted. "I already know everything about you; I won't have anything to ask."
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," the daughter said defiantly.
"M? You mean your money schemes? Of course, I know. You don't actually think I'm some petty, law-abiding paladin who'll start scolding you and put you under house arrest for that, do you? But truly, you should still keep something in mind," Erefir took a sip of coffee, which at that moment seemed different somehow—her usual lightness shifting into something else. "Namely, if you play too far, neither your father nor I can guarantee you any help, as you might think. Moreover, if you cross a certain line with your crime, it might just happen that I'm the one sent after you." This sounded as mundane and almost like a joke as it was chilling, like ice water; Fyr clearly never threw around uncharacteristic phrases like that. "Though, of course, that was a joke—sorry about that. ) No doubt you're sensible enough to stop your pranks in time, and you won't make enemies for yourself, and you won't tarnish my name..."
Brava smiled, not hiding the suddenly appearing beads of sweat on her forehead at all.
"Yyyyeeaaahhh, of course, you know me well, Mom. I definitely won't, hahah )))"
She looked down sheepishly at the magazine she had brought earlier.
"Ooooh!"
"What have you got there? Show me," the red-haired mother said, reaching out her hand. Her daughter automatically tried to keep the magazine away, holding it high and far, but this only triggered Erefir's powerful competitive instinct. A millisecond later, the daughter's hands were empty, as if they had never held anything, or as if someone had rewritten history. The Right Pillar sat imperturbably with the magazine.
(yes, things are so bad that I decided to spawn a million snapshots in addition to the million already existing)
"Where did you find this? Haven't seen it in ages..."
"Bast found it," the girl leaned in to look as well.
"And it, uh, was lying in the volume about Velfern, like a bookmark."
"The last time Am reread about Velfern, I see," Fyr thought.
"Mom, where did you get this?"
"... Right after the war, people became especially interested in knowing who was protecting them. Sonata was always too modest and secretive, so I had to take the heat, but I was completely ready. I suspected I'd have to, and people really do have a right to such a small thing as photos of the Right Pillar. The strength of our order is based on their moral and material support. So I showed my face a bit—no big deal."
"I think you're showing more than just your face here! ))"
"?"
"Never mind. ) Also, I noticed you look exactly the same in these photos as you do now—is that even normal?"
"M? You're just using the same trope that's already been applied two or three times to other female characters in other epilogues, aren't you? I don't need such flattery. )"
"No, seriously! Do you wear some kind of high-tech mask instead of a face? Are you camouflaging yourself with Uni? Or did you learn to stop time? How does it work? Will you teach me?!"
Whenever the conversation turned to any of her peculiarities, the Fury would always look away, then turn her head aside, not knowing what to answer. After a pause, she finally said:
"Maybe Uni really does have an influence. I've actually stopped understanding my own armor a long time ago... Given its job is to maintain my health and reconstruct my body even from complete non-existence, fighting off gray hair could be a side effect."
"I see. And anyway! Anyway, it turns out you have a ton of secrets from us, while we're an open book for you—is that fair, Mom? I think we need to grill you properly to catch up!"
"I suppose you've got me there. Go ahead and ask."
"What do you think about the appearance of Akonia?"
"Starting with the big guns right away, Sky. ) That's quite a lot of thoughts. Are you sure you're interested?"
After her daughter's confident nod, Erefir continued.
"Alright, in the end Am already listened to me, so I don't see the harm. Most likely, my attitude toward this event and the associated reign of My Sovereign is the opposite of what others believe. The first thing I felt on January 1st of this year was not jubilation, but a slight sadness at yet another loss, because Stalia, who had accompanied me all these years, had finally ceased to be."
"What do you mean? Was it destroyed?"
"Not exactly. Rather, Akonia absorbed it and became one with it. On one hand, it's interesting, because souls are influenced by the thoughts and deeds of their bearers, so I find it amusing to think that there's something in the goddess of light, a tiny particle of my experience, which probably passed on by inheritance. On the other hand, I won't lie—I would have preferred otherwise."
"You wanted to keep Stalia for yourself, didn't you? I see right through you, you power-hungry woman! ))"
"... I meant I would have liked Stalia to be reborn as a person, like Naria before her, and I was kind of expecting that in the new millennium. I've long had the feeling that this singularity and I were only temporary traveling companions. And from a power perspective... During the war, the Saint truly helped me a lot; at that moment, I felt we were invincible together. Now it's just a drop that can easily be simulated by other means, and even that drop didn't disappear without a trace."
"So Akonia just gobbled up everything in the house, I get it."
"I understand her motives, which align with the planet's own wishes. But having the freedom to my own opinion, it seems to me that merging souls into a single entity is... Inhuman. Everyone should have the right to such a small thing as their own personality, even demigods. However, setting aside morale, purely from interacting with the embodiment of the light element, she did turn out to be quite a character in her own way, and she put in a lot of effort this past month—credit where it's due."
Fyr spoke again after a short pause:
"And earlier, they treated Miss Cosmos rather sadly, the one they 'forgot' among the stars, even though Anuzish is her homeland... I also think that neither Akonia nor the Sovereign before her fully understood the consequences of the movement restrictions they initiated. Or maybe it's just excessive caution and an excessive desire to think globally speaking in me. I doubt closing off Anuzish was a wise decision from the perspective of the planet's inhabitants..."
"Why? Now no Valis will come near you. That's great, isn't it?"
"No Valis, but something stronger... To make it clearer, I'll give you an analogy: imagine you're a professional thief, with invisibility, excellent skills and tools—and you've entered a decent-looking mansion. You see many rooms, various paintings and statues, but one room is different. In it, you see a safe. What do you do? What about you, Bast?"—a sudden address to her silent son. "What would you do?"
"What do you mean? I-I'd never go in there at all! Someone could come back any moment, and then what? W-well, maybe if I really, really stretched my imagination, I'd grab the first expensive-looking things I saw and run away as fast as I could... That's just stupid!"
"And you, Sky?"
"I'd ignore everything except the safe. If there are expensive things just lying around, then the safe must contain an absolute royal treasury, no doubt about it. And it wouldn't be interesting to leave without cracking its mystery," Brava answered without hesitation.
"Exactly. You understand the psychology. That's how truly serious criminals think. Not small-time swindlers just looking to stuff their pockets with anything, but those who see their craft as an art. In other words, the most dangerous ones, because they really can crack any lock and escape any predicament. Now imagine there's a deity in space, so powerful that all planets and their resources are boring to it. It has consumed and destroyed a great many of them, inhabited and uninhabited. And here it comes—stumbling upon a planet locked with a padlock among a multitude of boring targets..."
"... I guess there must be something especially interesting there?"
"Correct."
"But this deity can't 'unlock' it, can it? That's the whole point, isn't it?"
"The Sovereign merely cut off the magical and spiritual paths to get here, and I'm not even sure she cut off all of them. We know that Risha, for instance, could no longer reach Anuzish using the old method, and perhaps no one can."
"So?"
"But the light of the sun, the moon, and the stars—still reaches us. It's quite obvious and natural; the natural balance is such that planets themselves don't have enough energy to sustain all life—we rely on our nearest star for that. To physically isolate us from the rest of the universe is impossible, and it wasn't done. That means someone or something can still get to us."
"Like meteorites? Well, I guess they thought of that, and the planet is just going to destroy any intruder on sight, right?"
"Most likely, yes. But then it's just a contest of strength. If something comes here with more energy than the entire planet, then?.."
"... Then it will break the lock? But there can't be anyone with that much power, can there?"
"Anuzish itself is sentient. Obviously, there can be. Let me summarize: when we weren't so heavily protected, we were attacked only by petty thieves looking to grab whatever was lying around, and even dealing with them wasn't easy in the old days. Now we're protected from targets that humanity could have defeated on its own, but we've become immensely more attractive to others. I assure you, this isn't bravado—we overcame singularities when we weren't even properly prepared. But since then, our preparation is on a completely different level. Possessing resources, the will to live, and the will to win, a person can be unafraid even of a squad of saints—and they once fought on equal terms with Risha. But if a being arrives here with resources greater than entire planetary systems, we, limited only by what Anuzish can provide, have small chances of victory. Though I'm not complaining—I'd find that scenario interesting. Strong opponents are always inspiring."
"That's brutal," was all Sky could say, impressed by the prospect.
Bastil, meanwhile, was clearly troubled by something else.
"Uh, 'unafraid of a squad of saints'? You say that like you've seriously considered something like that? Mom?"
"Well, yes. What about it?"
"... How? I don't understand..."
"Uni's first function, body restoration, is the answer to a threat on the level of Ruby and Valis," her mother began to explain calmly. "Restoration and retention of the soul is for dealing with those who could launch a targeted attack on it. Since I expect that a deity might be capable of destroying an entire fragment of the universe, I have placed backup copies of Uni in numerous hidden locations on Anuzish, linked into a specific network. If one copy is lost, the algorithm should trigger automatically. All of this is deep underground in magma, of course, to make it harder to find and retrieve. But I, in turn, should be able to get out of molten metal without too much trouble. From an attack perspective—there's no need to state the obvious, that all my years of struggle to increase damage output aren't aimed at human opponents. Why push someone so deep into the negative? Apophis isn't what it used to be, either."
"As you can see, I not only converted it to a new fuel but also modified it considerably, including adding runes, so that even total damage absorption couldn't work. This weapon has evolved alongside me for decades, just like my armor."
"Ha-ha, you're crazy!" the boy's eyes widened, but he still laughed at the silly adult. "If your enemy just hangs high in the air, you wouldn't be able to reach them..."
In response to the unfinished sentence, Erefir silently materialized from the inexhaustible mass of her armor three pairs of huge wings, larger than a human.
"This isn't the most optimal solution to the problem of fliers, of course, but I like it for its elegance. There are a few backups, though, in case I need to approach things more seriously. Of course, the worst case would be fighting an intangible or conditionally tangible opponent, but it's not for nothing that the design bureau exists—we solve problems even bigger than that there..."
"Mom, you know," Sky's voice chimed in. "With all this, you sometimes sound like some kind of lich. ))"
"M, explain."
"'Backup copies' of your armor—that's pretty much pure phylactery."
Both women fell into thought: Sky about how funny her joke was, comparing her mother to a lich, and Erefir about how her daughter had hit too close to home, and it was an unpleasant comparison.
"Scary..."
"?"
"?"
"Y-you women, you're scary! I'm not joking... My sister always talks like she wants to trick and rob the whole world. And you, Mom, sound like you want to conquer the entire universe. And doesn't it faze you at all? Carmen and Anita—they've been reading each other's thoughts their whole lives, and that's great, I get it, they're smart and twins, though when they talk about scientific stuff, I understand them even less than I understand Mom... And now they're fighting over a guy and ready to kill each other. Do you think that's normal? I'm never getting married..."
Carmen Echo Darvening-Okikot (left) — the older of the twins, 23 years old.
Anita Lisbeth Darvening-Okikot (right) — the younger of the twins, 23 years old.
Both are bureau employees and knights; their strength lies in their extraordinary mental synchronization—that was true until recently.
Why do Am and Fyr have four children? Because when Carmen and Anita were born, Erefir said, "That counts as one"...
"Haha, you're being harsh on us. And I can't say it's unfair. You know, Bast, I've noticed you've started stuttering. Tell me..." — Fyr.
"It's because of the bandits."
"I see. I thought they scared you."
"Not them, Mom."
"... I see," the redhead said sadly.
"Am I missing something? What bandits?"
"*sigh* About six months ago, Bast and I unfortunately ran into them on a trip. Well, you know how it is—you can develop your perception as much as you want, but there will always be skilled ambushers. There's not much to tell. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have even paid attention to such opponents, but they held a knife to Max's throat, so I got a bit angry."
"... There... There was blood everywhere, and the smell... You could have just told them who you were—they would have been scared and run away, right?"
"Yes. I probably could have."
"You're an idiot," his sister said with a mocking pout. "They saved your life, and you're complaining."
"Why did we even go there? It was just going to be another execution, wasn't it? Why did you make me fight a monster when I was ten? Kids shouldn't be doing that!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, now he remembers!" the black-haired girl laughed. "Unlike you, I took that test at eight, and I won. And besides, the monster was really young—what are you acting like a baby for )"
"And I took it at ten, and I ran away! Mom, you're always telling us you want to prepare us for something. You say if your parents had prepared you the way you prepare us, your life would have been easier. But we're not going to lose you, are we? You're so strong—what kind of army would even be needed to take you from us? Why do you treat us like you're getting ready to drop us off on a desert island? Why do you constantly have to plan battles with demigods, or gods, or planets, or whoever is next on your list..."
"I plan, and I prepare you, because anything can happen in life, including the supernatural. Are you going to deny my experience?"
"Nothing will happen! Do you hear yourself, Mom? Nothing so terrible will happen! Not to you, not to us! It's all in the past! We're past that stage! Why can't we just live like everyone else?"
"... Weeeell, frankly speaking, you weren't created so that I would listen to such lectures from someone who still hasn't let go of my apron strings," Erefir stood up. "And not so that I would be occasionally mocked, called, for example, a power-hungry lich," she looked at Sky. "Though I never allowed myself such behavior towards you."
Under the stern judge's gaze, both children averted their eyes, deciding that yes, they had overstepped, each in their own way. But not for long, because they soon found themselves in her embrace.
"And not so that in the process of your upbringing, I would once again realize that I have failed. Forgive me... I understand you, Bastil. At this age, you start thinking about your place in life, you have adult desires, but you don't yet feel ready for independence. At that moment, you become especially critical of those around you, and it hurts when the people closest to you turn out not to be as good as you always thought. I really do have a tendency to burden my children with my past, though it's my burden and mine alone—a burden whose usefulness I should probably already question. Not to mention that I simply don't spend enough time with you because I'm constantly on the other side of the globe..."
"And both of you, forgive me for sometimes scaring you with my not-quite-normal tendencies, constant thoughts of war in peacetime, which apparently triggered a defensive reaction in the form of speeches and jokes. I'm not saying I'll change this instant, no, but I've changed my mind and will at least try to involve you less in my worries—definitely not against your will. Just don't be afraid to tell me from now on. And besides that, know this," she looked seriously down at her charges, and in her unblinking eyes reflected the boundless sky and the bright sun. "Know that I am always on your side. Your hobbies, your emotional movements, your worries—don't be afraid to share them, because not for myself, not for the lineage, not for the public good, but for your own sake, I want to help you live every second of your life so that you have no regrets! Not live the probable, but live the actual? Accepted! Whether it's a peaceful, joyful life, or moderate comfort, or great ambitions—you will achieve it if you wish, and your father and I will give you the initial push that will surely lead to the goal!" — a smile and a wink.
A titmouse on a nearby tree listened in silence. At the neighboring table, Arivel, who had arrived at some unknown point, was discovered holding tea in her mouth and holding her breath for too long, causing her to cough loudly right after the speech ended. The brother and sister stood red-faced. Amamius, who was just entering the courtyard gate, also stood red-faced. The redhead, as if not noticing the effect she had produced, addressed him.
"Oh, Am, right on time. I was just thinking of going for a walk ) Kids, is it okay if I borrow your father for a bit?"
"S-sure! Just come back soon," said Sky, while Bastil just nodded. Saying goodbye, Fyr plucked some early petals from somewhere and blew the children a kiss.
A waitress who entered at the wrong moment dropped her tray. The renowned long-eared knight Carneola turned red as a tomato and coughed again. The titmouse, which had just relaxed, fell from its branch, stricken with a heart attack. But the redhead noticed none of this, having already run off, dragging Am with her.
"You know, Bast, in moments like these, I understand that I would never, ever want different parents."
"Yeah... I feel bad for laying into her now."
"Only Mom can turn everyone red so easily and effortlessly. )"
"... Yeah. You're right," the boy smiled. "Good thing Dad is there to keep this natural disaster in check."
***
The wind blew drops of meltwater falling from the hillsides. The air was fresh. Amamius, as always, was not very talkative, but he said everything that needed to be said. Their love grew stronger with each passing day and became more evident both in words and gestures. Not everything, of course, always went smoothly, and one could write about all sorts of nuances and difficulties, about the small trials they had overcome, peculiarities of beliefs and health... But is that really important right now? Perhaps, rather than digging into every minor detail, it's better to summarize the main point: if before Am and Fyr simply understood and complemented each other, now they were as if one soul.
"..."
"What am I thinking about? Many things. For example, thanks to the legacy of previous generations of scientists, we already know the speed needed to escape Anuzish's gravity. But how to achieve it, given that there's presumably no air up there..."
"..."
"Haha, you're right. Bast did touch on a topic that hits close to home, that's the thing. Not so much because I turned out to be a tyrant who established a training camp in my own family—I've felt that problem for a long time ) Rather, it's something else, also felt but voiced for the first time so clearly and obviously..."
Erefir stopped, and her hair was blown into her face, but she seemed not to notice.
"What is someone like me doing here, in this beautiful, calm, peaceful place? Why am I stirring up trouble? I justify my actions by my nature, but what am I lacking—I, who, thanks to the widespread support of many people, have gained both glory and love?" To confirm the latter, the redhead placed her palm on her husband's cheek. "Few people on this planet can boast of both achievements at once, let alone to such an extent, and I think all of them are people I know—friends, comrades. And yet, paradoxically, when I look at my to-do list, my gaze is drawn not to the numerous inspiring successes, but to the perennial lack of a checkmark next to item twenty."
She took out her diary and showed her achievements, those that had been marked. Then she did something shocking and cold-bloodedly crossed out "saving the world" with ink.
"Alas. I've always been proud that I made this list not haphazardly, but based on realistic considerations. So it was high time to reassess that line. It's the only reasonable decision. Even if..."
The Nosenrot woman didn't finish saying what "if" meant; the sentence just hung in the air. Amamius replied with something pleasant and uplifting, as he knew how.
"Thank you for your kind words ) And also... I'm sorry. I want to be with you again tonight, but I think I'll be screaming in my sleep again. You're probably used to it by now—it happens to me all the time when I spend nights in a soft bed instead of on the ground or under a lava flow—but still... I'm sorry. You ended up with a person made of ruins like this."
"..."
"When you realize something, you always want to take stock. Do you mind?" Erefir said after a pause and began to sing one of those songs she used to say goodbye to someone or something...
***
A light magical storm gently caressed the skin, bones, and even all internal organs. Such a forgotten and yet so pleasant sensation... Like the sunbeams playfully being absorbed by the dark essence of unknown origin, like the picturesque hills, whose ground was regularly contorted every fifteen seconds. It was so good to be back.
"But only until my friends show up and start screaming that I killed them," Erefir said quietly, sitting down cross-legged. "Any second now. Maybe my parents and master will join them too..."
Time passed, but no one appeared. Only a blob of worm-like biomass in the distance flew over the smooth lake and croaked, struck by a black lightning bolt—true idyll. The Nosenrot woman touched the stones lying nearby, stuck out her tongue to catch smells and tastes. Everything around... felt surprisingly real. She stood up, walked to a puddle to look at her reflection.
"Mmmm. I don't know what I expected. Maybe that my subconscious would slip up somehow, that the visible world is the fruit of its labor, but so far—alas."
"It would be a bit embarrassing if it turned out that I'm awake right now and was asleep before. That would explain a lot, of course... All those dizzying successes, crowned with an almost peaceful life, were just too incredible for me."
"... What is reality? Where is the boundary between it and consciousness?"
Leaving this question hanging in the air, Erefir proceeded with her usual activities. Based on external signs, she identified a nearby area less prone to distortions. She found water and something to filter it. She found something to make fire and boil the water. She found bird eggs and ate them raw, only briefly dipping them in boiling water—and there was no food in the entire universe tastier than these unsalted eggs, and no drink more desirable than this boiled water that left grit on her teeth. The best desserts from Lepota's holiday menu and the best coffee from formal receptions couldn't compare to this current feast.
It seemed this used to be a city district... A lucky find. Here and there, remnants of buildings stood as half-destroyed walls, and the bricks were solid, built to last centuries—or perhaps centuries had already passed? The Fury pried them apart and built herself a forge—it would do for now. A rusty hammerhead was found and attached to a stick. A rusty heavy iron piece instead of an anvil—good enough for a start. For bellows—two sticks and any cloth, plus various minor crafting. No coal—that was a problem... It could have been, if Erefir weren't in a place teeming with magic. After half an hour of searching, the redhead successfully found a couple of heat-generating stones, or simply "heaters." Again, good enough for the time being.
The work began. The darkness-stricken sun hung at the same spot in the sky day and night, making it hard to tell how much time had passed. Five days? Seven? Ten? All the lizards around had already been eaten; then the same fate befell any unlucky monsters that wandered in. The hastily made forge grew increasingly sophisticated tools. Each new generation was used to improve the ability to work, and eventually the entire technological chain was completed as far as possible (fortunately, there were plenty of materials nearby, including some of exceptional quality if one searched well enough). Finally, the focused hammering stopped. It hadn't been easy. She had not only to be quite creative in replacing familiar machines but also to largely rethink the project from scratch, considering the availability of materials and energy sources—and she didn't even have paper to draw it all out. It was completely unclear whether the engine, designed based on those early magical gemstone engines, would even work here if the local heater stones and other magical stones turned out to be of a completely different, incompatible principle. She thought she tried to test it, but... Who knows?
All that remained was to hope that if this was a dream, then in the dream everything she wanted was indeed possible.
Erefir Linel Darvening pulled the lever, and for the first time, a sound echoed across the magical wastelands that had no equal in nature or the supernatural: the noise of friction from many carefully coordinated parts moving in a cyclic waltz. The source of such a sound could only have been created by a sentient being, loving with every neuron the hiss of metal during quenching, the crackle of fire in the coals, the heartbeat during battle, the morning dew, the howl of wind in the gorges, the play of colors during magical breakthroughs, and the fussy chattering of magpies looking for something shiny for their nest. And the waves of the lake, in the depths of which lurked the tentacles of a monster, and the stars above, and the darkness covering them, and the heat, and the cold, and life, and death, and reason, and madness—she clung to everything she could feel and felt everything she saw around her. This sound resonated with her soul, and there was no other like it in all the world.
A teenage boy was sitting on a bench, with a stack of books beside him. He was probably supposed to be reading them, but instead, the boy's attention was currently drawn to an eagle soaring in the distance over the forest near Folkvang. "Big," he thought. "Probably almost like a pterodactyl." Engrossed in this fascinating activity, it was no surprise that he was startled when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Why aren't you in school?!" someone shouted right in his ear. It was a good thing the boy was already sitting down, or he would hardly have stayed on his feet from the shock.
"S-Sky?" he managed, calming his wildly beating heart. "Dummy! What a dummy you are!"
"You're the idiot, Bast," the smirking girl said, putting her hands on her hips. "Mom didn't teach us to let our guard down."
"Why did you have to shout like that? I'm on vacation, everyone's on vacation after Akonia appeared, got it?!"
These two — Sky Brava Darvening-Okikot, 17, and Bastil Maximilian Darvening-Okikot, 13, were the younger children of Amamius Okikot and Erefir Linel Darvening, bearers of that proud double surname and equally proud double given names. Though they didn't always act accordingly... Sky, despite her young age, was already leading an active adventuring life, so it had been quite a while since she'd last seen her brother. This apparent quarrel between two yapping fox cubs was, in reality, a touching reunion.
"Weeeell, Akoooonia... I bet things were interesting around here, since you didn't send me a single message, you naughty brother?" Brava pulls out a hefty bag of coins. "Dance! Maybe then — I'll forgive you! But no promises!"
"What's that? You... What have you gotten yourself into this time?!"
"Remember Uncle Anpan from Crideaar? He gave me a great business idea, and I pulled it off successfully: I managed to sell talismans to all sorts of superstitious fools down south for fifty thousand!"
Yes, an outside observer would easily note that her face was terribly similar to her mother's, only she had her father's hair, which, combined with the appearance of the other children, led to the thought that in the competition for inheriting Erefir's traits, she had also managed to win — that's just the kind of person she was, conceding nothing to anyone... But, as one could tell from her character, Sky clearly had something from her father, or rather, even surpassed him: his love for money multiplied by her mother's love for adventure produced a particularly potent combination in the case of the younger daughter.
"W-wait, what? When did you learn to make talismans?!"
"You can't be serious?! How did you not get... arrested? Or even executed?!"
"Had to run from the guards a bit, but that just made it more fun," the daredevil shrugged. "Anyway, I bought some paper and spent a couple of nights with a brush and scissors. Now that's what I call a business!"
"Mom and Dad are going to be furious with you!"
"You're not going to tell them, are you? And that was just the warm-up, by the way. I've already come up with a great little scheme in Wiliya. Things are so bad there right now that it's actually good—I can totally tap into that endless financial flow... Don't look at me like that, nothing immoral, I'm just going to open a casino )) Besides, there's no real danger. If something bad happens to me, Mom will 'have a word' with them, and that country will cease to exist. Everyone knows that."
"... You scare me. T-that's why I didn't write to you!"
"Uh-huh, nice deflection, kid. Where are Mom and Dad?"
"... Probably busy, as always."
"Let's go to a café then? Don't bother with the books, who's going to steal them off the bench?"
"What if it rains? Better take them."
Sky looked skeptically at the cloudless sky and sighed. She walked over and started sorting through the stack of books:
"Alright, let me carry something. What interesting stuff do you have here... Ooooh! I haven't seen this one yet," she grinned, taking the magazine she'd found and leaving the rest for the boy to carry.
"What's in it?"
"Don't know, whether you grabbed it by accident or you're pretending, but nope, I'm not showing you now," she said, raising the magazine high into the air, out of reach of the teenage boy, and then she broke into a run. "Catch me!"
Although summer hadn't arrived yet, the café in Folkvang was already offering outdoor service on a picturesque terrace under the shade of cherry trees. Neither Sky nor Bastil were surprised to see Erefir there, sipping coffee and lost in thought, while the few other diners ate inside the warm establishment. She noticed the children. Smiled. Stood up to meet them and hugged them warmly.
"Migratory birds always return to their native lands. Hello, little chick," she said, stroking her daughter's head. The girl was already almost as tall as her mother but still received the corresponding treatment for a child.
It had always been this way with her. The Red Fury radiated an incomparable aura of power, confidence, and nobility onto everyone, including her own children, but contrary to any possible expectations, she used this aura not to boast or intimidate. No, the whole idea was for those around her to see in the Right Pillar their unwavering ally, their heroine. She worked tirelessly for this, carrying out both great and humble deeds, all in emulation of the only Hero she had ever known personally. Every person near her was not diminished but became part of something significant, and then it was they themselves who were significant.
"More than twenty years lived peacefully, and now I get this feeling again that the narrative has taken up its old praises. I give up," Erefir sighed inwardly.
"Mom?" the middle daughter asked.
"Everything's fine ) Tell me about yourself."
"Oh, nothing special. Flew off, did some quests, flew back... Oh, and I passed my pilot's test! Maybe I don't have to wait until I'm eighteen to get my license?"
"I'm not sure what you're suggesting... Let's do it by the book, you don't have long to wait, right, Sky? ) And until then... I think {the knight's name} hasn't shown you all the advanced maneuvers yet. Ask him to surprise you, and he will—he'll teach you, so you won't waste time."
"Then I'll ask him!"
During the ensuing warm conversation, both Brava and Max shared their achievements and impressions. Fragrant food, consisting of meat and vegetables—the best friends of young adventurers—was brought and they began to eat. Then Sky suggested:
"How about we play your favorite game, Mom? Questions-answers-questions-answers! ))"
"Do I have to tell you everything about myself? And that thing—what's it called—Uncle Guyon always brings it up—the 'arrived word,' right? Will that be a thing?" Bastil asked.
"Haaaa, I see your cunning here, Sky. You're offering me unfair terms..." the mother noted. "I already know everything about you; I won't have anything to ask."
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," the daughter said defiantly.
"M? You mean your money schemes? Of course, I know. You don't actually think I'm some petty, law-abiding paladin who'll start scolding you and put you under house arrest for that, do you? But truly, you should still keep something in mind," Erefir took a sip of coffee, which at that moment seemed different somehow—her usual lightness shifting into something else. "Namely, if you play too far, neither your father nor I can guarantee you any help, as you might think. Moreover, if you cross a certain line with your crime, it might just happen that I'm the one sent after you." This sounded as mundane and almost like a joke as it was chilling, like ice water; Fyr clearly never threw around uncharacteristic phrases like that. "Though, of course, that was a joke—sorry about that. ) No doubt you're sensible enough to stop your pranks in time, and you won't make enemies for yourself, and you won't tarnish my name..."
Brava smiled, not hiding the suddenly appearing beads of sweat on her forehead at all.
"Yyyyeeaaahhh, of course, you know me well, Mom. I definitely won't, hahah )))"
She looked down sheepishly at the magazine she had brought earlier.
"Ooooh!"
"What have you got there? Show me," the red-haired mother said, reaching out her hand. Her daughter automatically tried to keep the magazine away, holding it high and far, but this only triggered Erefir's powerful competitive instinct. A millisecond later, the daughter's hands were empty, as if they had never held anything, or as if someone had rewritten history. The Right Pillar sat imperturbably with the magazine.
Magazine Contents
(yes, things are so bad that I decided to spawn a million snapshots in addition to the million already existing)
"Where did you find this? Haven't seen it in ages..."
"Bast found it," the girl leaned in to look as well.
"And it, uh, was lying in the volume about Velfern, like a bookmark."
"The last time Am reread about Velfern, I see," Fyr thought.
"Mom, where did you get this?"
"... Right after the war, people became especially interested in knowing who was protecting them. Sonata was always too modest and secretive, so I had to take the heat, but I was completely ready. I suspected I'd have to, and people really do have a right to such a small thing as photos of the Right Pillar. The strength of our order is based on their moral and material support. So I showed my face a bit—no big deal."
"I think you're showing more than just your face here! ))"
"?"
"Never mind. ) Also, I noticed you look exactly the same in these photos as you do now—is that even normal?"
"M? You're just using the same trope that's already been applied two or three times to other female characters in other epilogues, aren't you? I don't need such flattery. )"
"No, seriously! Do you wear some kind of high-tech mask instead of a face? Are you camouflaging yourself with Uni? Or did you learn to stop time? How does it work? Will you teach me?!"
Whenever the conversation turned to any of her peculiarities, the Fury would always look away, then turn her head aside, not knowing what to answer. After a pause, she finally said:
"Maybe Uni really does have an influence. I've actually stopped understanding my own armor a long time ago... Given its job is to maintain my health and reconstruct my body even from complete non-existence, fighting off gray hair could be a side effect."
"I see. And anyway! Anyway, it turns out you have a ton of secrets from us, while we're an open book for you—is that fair, Mom? I think we need to grill you properly to catch up!"
"I suppose you've got me there. Go ahead and ask."
"What do you think about the appearance of Akonia?"
"Starting with the big guns right away, Sky. ) That's quite a lot of thoughts. Are you sure you're interested?"
After her daughter's confident nod, Erefir continued.
"Alright, in the end Am already listened to me, so I don't see the harm. Most likely, my attitude toward this event and the associated reign of My Sovereign is the opposite of what others believe. The first thing I felt on January 1st of this year was not jubilation, but a slight sadness at yet another loss, because Stalia, who had accompanied me all these years, had finally ceased to be."
"What do you mean? Was it destroyed?"
"Not exactly. Rather, Akonia absorbed it and became one with it. On one hand, it's interesting, because souls are influenced by the thoughts and deeds of their bearers, so I find it amusing to think that there's something in the goddess of light, a tiny particle of my experience, which probably passed on by inheritance. On the other hand, I won't lie—I would have preferred otherwise."
"You wanted to keep Stalia for yourself, didn't you? I see right through you, you power-hungry woman! ))"
"... I meant I would have liked Stalia to be reborn as a person, like Naria before her, and I was kind of expecting that in the new millennium. I've long had the feeling that this singularity and I were only temporary traveling companions. And from a power perspective... During the war, the Saint truly helped me a lot; at that moment, I felt we were invincible together. Now it's just a drop that can easily be simulated by other means, and even that drop didn't disappear without a trace."
"So Akonia just gobbled up everything in the house, I get it."
"I understand her motives, which align with the planet's own wishes. But having the freedom to my own opinion, it seems to me that merging souls into a single entity is... Inhuman. Everyone should have the right to such a small thing as their own personality, even demigods. However, setting aside morale, purely from interacting with the embodiment of the light element, she did turn out to be quite a character in her own way, and she put in a lot of effort this past month—credit where it's due."
Fyr spoke again after a short pause:
"And earlier, they treated Miss Cosmos rather sadly, the one they 'forgot' among the stars, even though Anuzish is her homeland... I also think that neither Akonia nor the Sovereign before her fully understood the consequences of the movement restrictions they initiated. Or maybe it's just excessive caution and an excessive desire to think globally speaking in me. I doubt closing off Anuzish was a wise decision from the perspective of the planet's inhabitants..."
"Why? Now no Valis will come near you. That's great, isn't it?"
"No Valis, but something stronger... To make it clearer, I'll give you an analogy: imagine you're a professional thief, with invisibility, excellent skills and tools—and you've entered a decent-looking mansion. You see many rooms, various paintings and statues, but one room is different. In it, you see a safe. What do you do? What about you, Bast?"—a sudden address to her silent son. "What would you do?"
"What do you mean? I-I'd never go in there at all! Someone could come back any moment, and then what? W-well, maybe if I really, really stretched my imagination, I'd grab the first expensive-looking things I saw and run away as fast as I could... That's just stupid!"
"And you, Sky?"
"I'd ignore everything except the safe. If there are expensive things just lying around, then the safe must contain an absolute royal treasury, no doubt about it. And it wouldn't be interesting to leave without cracking its mystery," Brava answered without hesitation.
"Exactly. You understand the psychology. That's how truly serious criminals think. Not small-time swindlers just looking to stuff their pockets with anything, but those who see their craft as an art. In other words, the most dangerous ones, because they really can crack any lock and escape any predicament. Now imagine there's a deity in space, so powerful that all planets and their resources are boring to it. It has consumed and destroyed a great many of them, inhabited and uninhabited. And here it comes—stumbling upon a planet locked with a padlock among a multitude of boring targets..."
"... I guess there must be something especially interesting there?"
"Correct."
"But this deity can't 'unlock' it, can it? That's the whole point, isn't it?"
"The Sovereign merely cut off the magical and spiritual paths to get here, and I'm not even sure she cut off all of them. We know that Risha, for instance, could no longer reach Anuzish using the old method, and perhaps no one can."
"So?"
"But the light of the sun, the moon, and the stars—still reaches us. It's quite obvious and natural; the natural balance is such that planets themselves don't have enough energy to sustain all life—we rely on our nearest star for that. To physically isolate us from the rest of the universe is impossible, and it wasn't done. That means someone or something can still get to us."
"Like meteorites? Well, I guess they thought of that, and the planet is just going to destroy any intruder on sight, right?"
"Most likely, yes. But then it's just a contest of strength. If something comes here with more energy than the entire planet, then?.."
"... Then it will break the lock? But there can't be anyone with that much power, can there?"
"Anuzish itself is sentient. Obviously, there can be. Let me summarize: when we weren't so heavily protected, we were attacked only by petty thieves looking to grab whatever was lying around, and even dealing with them wasn't easy in the old days. Now we're protected from targets that humanity could have defeated on its own, but we've become immensely more attractive to others. I assure you, this isn't bravado—we overcame singularities when we weren't even properly prepared. But since then, our preparation is on a completely different level. Possessing resources, the will to live, and the will to win, a person can be unafraid even of a squad of saints—and they once fought on equal terms with Risha. But if a being arrives here with resources greater than entire planetary systems, we, limited only by what Anuzish can provide, have small chances of victory. Though I'm not complaining—I'd find that scenario interesting. Strong opponents are always inspiring."
"That's brutal," was all Sky could say, impressed by the prospect.
Bastil, meanwhile, was clearly troubled by something else.
"Uh, 'unafraid of a squad of saints'? You say that like you've seriously considered something like that? Mom?"
"Well, yes. What about it?"
"... How? I don't understand..."
"Uni's first function, body restoration, is the answer to a threat on the level of Ruby and Valis," her mother began to explain calmly. "Restoration and retention of the soul is for dealing with those who could launch a targeted attack on it. Since I expect that a deity might be capable of destroying an entire fragment of the universe, I have placed backup copies of Uni in numerous hidden locations on Anuzish, linked into a specific network. If one copy is lost, the algorithm should trigger automatically. All of this is deep underground in magma, of course, to make it harder to find and retrieve. But I, in turn, should be able to get out of molten metal without too much trouble. From an attack perspective—there's no need to state the obvious, that all my years of struggle to increase damage output aren't aimed at human opponents. Why push someone so deep into the negative? Apophis isn't what it used to be, either."
"As you can see, I not only converted it to a new fuel but also modified it considerably, including adding runes, so that even total damage absorption couldn't work. This weapon has evolved alongside me for decades, just like my armor."
"Ha-ha, you're crazy!" the boy's eyes widened, but he still laughed at the silly adult. "If your enemy just hangs high in the air, you wouldn't be able to reach them..."
In response to the unfinished sentence, Erefir silently materialized from the inexhaustible mass of her armor three pairs of huge wings, larger than a human.
"This isn't the most optimal solution to the problem of fliers, of course, but I like it for its elegance. There are a few backups, though, in case I need to approach things more seriously. Of course, the worst case would be fighting an intangible or conditionally tangible opponent, but it's not for nothing that the design bureau exists—we solve problems even bigger than that there..."
"Mom, you know," Sky's voice chimed in. "With all this, you sometimes sound like some kind of lich. ))"
"M, explain."
"'Backup copies' of your armor—that's pretty much pure phylactery."
Both women fell into thought: Sky about how funny her joke was, comparing her mother to a lich, and Erefir about how her daughter had hit too close to home, and it was an unpleasant comparison.
"Scary..."
"?"
"?"
"Y-you women, you're scary! I'm not joking... My sister always talks like she wants to trick and rob the whole world. And you, Mom, sound like you want to conquer the entire universe. And doesn't it faze you at all? Carmen and Anita—they've been reading each other's thoughts their whole lives, and that's great, I get it, they're smart and twins, though when they talk about scientific stuff, I understand them even less than I understand Mom... And now they're fighting over a guy and ready to kill each other. Do you think that's normal? I'm never getting married..."
Carmen Echo Darvening-Okikot (left) — the older of the twins, 23 years old.
Anita Lisbeth Darvening-Okikot (right) — the younger of the twins, 23 years old.
Both are bureau employees and knights; their strength lies in their extraordinary mental synchronization—that was true until recently.
Why do Am and Fyr have four children? Because when Carmen and Anita were born, Erefir said, "That counts as one"...
"Haha, you're being harsh on us. And I can't say it's unfair. You know, Bast, I've noticed you've started stuttering. Tell me..." — Fyr.
"It's because of the bandits."
"I see. I thought they scared you."
"Not them, Mom."
"... I see," the redhead said sadly.
"Am I missing something? What bandits?"
"*sigh* About six months ago, Bast and I unfortunately ran into them on a trip. Well, you know how it is—you can develop your perception as much as you want, but there will always be skilled ambushers. There's not much to tell. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have even paid attention to such opponents, but they held a knife to Max's throat, so I got a bit angry."
"... There... There was blood everywhere, and the smell... You could have just told them who you were—they would have been scared and run away, right?"
"Yes. I probably could have."
"You're an idiot," his sister said with a mocking pout. "They saved your life, and you're complaining."
"Why did we even go there? It was just going to be another execution, wasn't it? Why did you make me fight a monster when I was ten? Kids shouldn't be doing that!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, now he remembers!" the black-haired girl laughed. "Unlike you, I took that test at eight, and I won. And besides, the monster was really young—what are you acting like a baby for )"
"And I took it at ten, and I ran away! Mom, you're always telling us you want to prepare us for something. You say if your parents had prepared you the way you prepare us, your life would have been easier. But we're not going to lose you, are we? You're so strong—what kind of army would even be needed to take you from us? Why do you treat us like you're getting ready to drop us off on a desert island? Why do you constantly have to plan battles with demigods, or gods, or planets, or whoever is next on your list..."
"I plan, and I prepare you, because anything can happen in life, including the supernatural. Are you going to deny my experience?"
"Nothing will happen! Do you hear yourself, Mom? Nothing so terrible will happen! Not to you, not to us! It's all in the past! We're past that stage! Why can't we just live like everyone else?"
"... Weeeell, frankly speaking, you weren't created so that I would listen to such lectures from someone who still hasn't let go of my apron strings," Erefir stood up. "And not so that I would be occasionally mocked, called, for example, a power-hungry lich," she looked at Sky. "Though I never allowed myself such behavior towards you."
Under the stern judge's gaze, both children averted their eyes, deciding that yes, they had overstepped, each in their own way. But not for long, because they soon found themselves in her embrace.
"And not so that in the process of your upbringing, I would once again realize that I have failed. Forgive me... I understand you, Bastil. At this age, you start thinking about your place in life, you have adult desires, but you don't yet feel ready for independence. At that moment, you become especially critical of those around you, and it hurts when the people closest to you turn out not to be as good as you always thought. I really do have a tendency to burden my children with my past, though it's my burden and mine alone—a burden whose usefulness I should probably already question. Not to mention that I simply don't spend enough time with you because I'm constantly on the other side of the globe..."
"And both of you, forgive me for sometimes scaring you with my not-quite-normal tendencies, constant thoughts of war in peacetime, which apparently triggered a defensive reaction in the form of speeches and jokes. I'm not saying I'll change this instant, no, but I've changed my mind and will at least try to involve you less in my worries—definitely not against your will. Just don't be afraid to tell me from now on. And besides that, know this," she looked seriously down at her charges, and in her unblinking eyes reflected the boundless sky and the bright sun. "Know that I am always on your side. Your hobbies, your emotional movements, your worries—don't be afraid to share them, because not for myself, not for the lineage, not for the public good, but for your own sake, I want to help you live every second of your life so that you have no regrets! Not live the probable, but live the actual? Accepted! Whether it's a peaceful, joyful life, or moderate comfort, or great ambitions—you will achieve it if you wish, and your father and I will give you the initial push that will surely lead to the goal!" — a smile and a wink.
A titmouse on a nearby tree listened in silence. At the neighboring table, Arivel, who had arrived at some unknown point, was discovered holding tea in her mouth and holding her breath for too long, causing her to cough loudly right after the speech ended. The brother and sister stood red-faced. Amamius, who was just entering the courtyard gate, also stood red-faced. The redhead, as if not noticing the effect she had produced, addressed him.
"Oh, Am, right on time. I was just thinking of going for a walk ) Kids, is it okay if I borrow your father for a bit?"
"S-sure! Just come back soon," said Sky, while Bastil just nodded. Saying goodbye, Fyr plucked some early petals from somewhere and blew the children a kiss.
A waitress who entered at the wrong moment dropped her tray. The renowned long-eared knight Carneola turned red as a tomato and coughed again. The titmouse, which had just relaxed, fell from its branch, stricken with a heart attack. But the redhead noticed none of this, having already run off, dragging Am with her.
"You know, Bast, in moments like these, I understand that I would never, ever want different parents."
"Yeah... I feel bad for laying into her now."
"Only Mom can turn everyone red so easily and effortlessly. )"
"... Yeah. You're right," the boy smiled. "Good thing Dad is there to keep this natural disaster in check."
***
The wind blew drops of meltwater falling from the hillsides. The air was fresh. Amamius, as always, was not very talkative, but he said everything that needed to be said. Their love grew stronger with each passing day and became more evident both in words and gestures. Not everything, of course, always went smoothly, and one could write about all sorts of nuances and difficulties, about the small trials they had overcome, peculiarities of beliefs and health... But is that really important right now? Perhaps, rather than digging into every minor detail, it's better to summarize the main point: if before Am and Fyr simply understood and complemented each other, now they were as if one soul.
"..."
"What am I thinking about? Many things. For example, thanks to the legacy of previous generations of scientists, we already know the speed needed to escape Anuzish's gravity. But how to achieve it, given that there's presumably no air up there..."
"..."
"Haha, you're right. Bast did touch on a topic that hits close to home, that's the thing. Not so much because I turned out to be a tyrant who established a training camp in my own family—I've felt that problem for a long time ) Rather, it's something else, also felt but voiced for the first time so clearly and obviously..."
Erefir stopped, and her hair was blown into her face, but she seemed not to notice.
"What is someone like me doing here, in this beautiful, calm, peaceful place? Why am I stirring up trouble? I justify my actions by my nature, but what am I lacking—I, who, thanks to the widespread support of many people, have gained both glory and love?" To confirm the latter, the redhead placed her palm on her husband's cheek. "Few people on this planet can boast of both achievements at once, let alone to such an extent, and I think all of them are people I know—friends, comrades. And yet, paradoxically, when I look at my to-do list, my gaze is drawn not to the numerous inspiring successes, but to the perennial lack of a checkmark next to item twenty."
She took out her diary and showed her achievements, those that had been marked. Then she did something shocking and cold-bloodedly crossed out "saving the world" with ink.
"Alas. I've always been proud that I made this list not haphazardly, but based on realistic considerations. So it was high time to reassess that line. It's the only reasonable decision. Even if..."
The Nosenrot woman didn't finish saying what "if" meant; the sentence just hung in the air. Amamius replied with something pleasant and uplifting, as he knew how.
"Thank you for your kind words ) And also... I'm sorry. I want to be with you again tonight, but I think I'll be screaming in my sleep again. You're probably used to it by now—it happens to me all the time when I spend nights in a soft bed instead of on the ground or under a lava flow—but still... I'm sorry. You ended up with a person made of ruins like this."
"..."
"When you realize something, you always want to take stock. Do you mind?" Erefir said after a pause and began to sing one of those songs she used to say goodbye to someone or something...
***
A light magical storm gently caressed the skin, bones, and even all internal organs. Such a forgotten and yet so pleasant sensation... Like the sunbeams playfully being absorbed by the dark essence of unknown origin, like the picturesque hills, whose ground was regularly contorted every fifteen seconds. It was so good to be back.
"But only until my friends show up and start screaming that I killed them," Erefir said quietly, sitting down cross-legged. "Any second now. Maybe my parents and master will join them too..."
Time passed, but no one appeared. Only a blob of worm-like biomass in the distance flew over the smooth lake and croaked, struck by a black lightning bolt—true idyll. The Nosenrot woman touched the stones lying nearby, stuck out her tongue to catch smells and tastes. Everything around... felt surprisingly real. She stood up, walked to a puddle to look at her reflection.
"Mmmm. I don't know what I expected. Maybe that my subconscious would slip up somehow, that the visible world is the fruit of its labor, but so far—alas."
"It would be a bit embarrassing if it turned out that I'm awake right now and was asleep before. That would explain a lot, of course... All those dizzying successes, crowned with an almost peaceful life, were just too incredible for me."
"... What is reality? Where is the boundary between it and consciousness?"
Leaving this question hanging in the air, Erefir proceeded with her usual activities. Based on external signs, she identified a nearby area less prone to distortions. She found water and something to filter it. She found something to make fire and boil the water. She found bird eggs and ate them raw, only briefly dipping them in boiling water—and there was no food in the entire universe tastier than these unsalted eggs, and no drink more desirable than this boiled water that left grit on her teeth. The best desserts from Lepota's holiday menu and the best coffee from formal receptions couldn't compare to this current feast.
It seemed this used to be a city district... A lucky find. Here and there, remnants of buildings stood as half-destroyed walls, and the bricks were solid, built to last centuries—or perhaps centuries had already passed? The Fury pried them apart and built herself a forge—it would do for now. A rusty hammerhead was found and attached to a stick. A rusty heavy iron piece instead of an anvil—good enough for a start. For bellows—two sticks and any cloth, plus various minor crafting. No coal—that was a problem... It could have been, if Erefir weren't in a place teeming with magic. After half an hour of searching, the redhead successfully found a couple of heat-generating stones, or simply "heaters." Again, good enough for the time being.
The work began. The darkness-stricken sun hung at the same spot in the sky day and night, making it hard to tell how much time had passed. Five days? Seven? Ten? All the lizards around had already been eaten; then the same fate befell any unlucky monsters that wandered in. The hastily made forge grew increasingly sophisticated tools. Each new generation was used to improve the ability to work, and eventually the entire technological chain was completed as far as possible (fortunately, there were plenty of materials nearby, including some of exceptional quality if one searched well enough). Finally, the focused hammering stopped. It hadn't been easy. She had not only to be quite creative in replacing familiar machines but also to largely rethink the project from scratch, considering the availability of materials and energy sources—and she didn't even have paper to draw it all out. It was completely unclear whether the engine, designed based on those early magical gemstone engines, would even work here if the local heater stones and other magical stones turned out to be of a completely different, incompatible principle. She thought she tried to test it, but... Who knows?
All that remained was to hope that if this was a dream, then in the dream everything she wanted was indeed possible.
Erefir Linel Darvening pulled the lever, and for the first time, a sound echoed across the magical wastelands that had no equal in nature or the supernatural: the noise of friction from many carefully coordinated parts moving in a cyclic waltz. The source of such a sound could only have been created by a sentient being, loving with every neuron the hiss of metal during quenching, the crackle of fire in the coals, the heartbeat during battle, the morning dew, the howl of wind in the gorges, the play of colors during magical breakthroughs, and the fussy chattering of magpies looking for something shiny for their nest. And the waves of the lake, in the depths of which lurked the tentacles of a monster, and the stars above, and the darkness covering them, and the heat, and the cold, and life, and death, and reason, and madness—she clung to everything she could feel and felt everything she saw around her. This sound resonated with her soul, and there was no other like it in all the world.