Posts from The Empire of Reimia (3) Auto-translated

— Yo, — Moriner said as he entered the building of the Illithian Chronicles, and someone immediately approached him from behind, — who are you?
The stranger took his arm and pressed her chest and face against him.

Moriner almost jumped in surprise, but managed to regain his composure in time.
-I'm a journalist. I just arrived from the capital. I wanted to find out about the latest news... firsthand.

Linnea had always dreamed of one day visiting Darkia—she was interested in the local customs and culture, she loved stories about the brave warriors of those lands, and the landscapes, as she had heard, were a sight to behold despite the unfriendly climate. But before, the girl could never have imagined that her first visit to this country would most likely be not as a simple tourist or traveler, but as a soldier of the Reimeian army. And certainly not as one tasked with guarding a diplomatic delegation sent to their neighbors. She was to face the Darkians on the field of battle. In Neia's favorite stories, the swordsmen from Darkia were always noble heroes protecting common folk from all sorts of monsters or villains. And now, by all appearances, she and her comrades were those villains. Fate has a very cruel sense of humor.
But, as they say, there is a grain of truth in every joke. No matter how much Linnea wanted to deceive herself or convince herself otherwise, she was certainly no hero. At least, not the kind she wished to be. Yes, one could blame everything on Rinze Reime, who had come to power, but that was pure nonsense—Her Majesty had not forced her to take the oath. Neia had chosen this path herself, fully understanding what would be required of her and that she would not be able to adhere to her ideals. In fact, the Empress, even if not out of kindness, had even given her the opportunity to turn away from this path by transferring her to the academy with the idols. But the girl did not want to live a lie—she was not an idol. And now, to avoid continuing to lie to herself, she had to admit that she was not a hero either, not even close.
Such doubts had tormented the Reimeian for a long time, but her reflections over the last couple of weeks finally put everything in its place. Every more or less serious selfless act of hers had been directed solely toward the well-being of those close to her—she did not consider the price that would have to be paid not only by her, but by someone else. This was clearly evident in the recent situation with Shogo. For no matter how much she condemned these experiments in her thoughts, at the decisive moment, when the syringe was in her hands, for Linnea these were not the fruits of someone's suffering—they were additional years of life for a dear person. Even knowing the whole truth behind the serum, she did not hesitate for a second in making her decision.
When you realize that, with the right motivation, you are ready to do something you had never even thought of before, it significantly changes your perception of things. Now, Neia could not assert with her former confidence that, had she been in the Empress's place, she would not have resorted to at least some of the same methods to achieve the necessary goals. She could still disagree with certain aspects of Her Majesty's policy, but for more personal reasons. And even here, Rinze Reime had clearly demonstrated that she was ready to make concessions in this regard. Not even that—Her Majesty had given her a guarantee of a happy life on very simple terms: absolute loyalty to the crown and a willingness to play by the established rules. If one thinks about it, even one of the happiest events in Neia's life occurred precisely during the Empress's reign, and not without the help of instructions from the code. Most likely a simple coincidence, but still.
Reasoning in this vein, the girl found fewer and fewer reasons to be dissatisfied with Rinze Reime's leadership, although, it would seem, she was heading to a war that was a direct consequence of the latter's foreign policy. But, again, no one had forced Linnea to take the oath. Even more so, weighing all the "pros" and "cons," the Reimeian gradually realized that her willingness to follow Her Majesty's decrees was only strengthening. And this was not the blind loyalty of fanatics from the Empress's fan club, who derived genuine pleasure from the mere possibility of hearing Rinze Reime's voice. This was a fully conscious decision of a person who knew about the not-so-seemly things the ruler of the Reimeian Empire committed. To some extent, in the girl's own opinion, such loyalty was worth more.

Hoping that he had lulled his companion's vigilance with chatter, he abruptly changed the subject – or rather, returned to it:
- So, have you taken her anywhere yet?

— Yes, we went out a couple of times, — Light finished adjusting the enhancer, — honestly, I’ve never felt anything like this before. If I take on something, I try to do it as best as possible, but I don’t feel any particular motivation, and here... Here, on the contrary, I want to please the person. Do you understand what I mean? And what is "my situation," by the way?

-- At that moment, but now... However, there is no time or place for that right now. It was actually a great line – answering a question without really saying anything at all – at this point, the dialogue could have ended, but after a few seconds, Marey still managed to soften the last phrase. -- No, it's not an accusation; I respect the right to silence and personal space. But anyway, I'm still going to buy a suit. Shall we meet at the exit or...?

Naru didn't object to her classmate's company, so they started shopping together. This trip to "Bellatrix" ended with Marey giving in to the store employee's persuasion and buying himself such a suit:

+10 to attractiveness, only M.

It cost him 2000 rumies.

Bertrand decided to go downtown and take a look around.

While walking through the city, Bertrand catches the eye of soldiers in uniforms he doesn’t immediately recognize—they turn out to be representatives of the military police: the girl is a first lieutenant, and the young man is a captain.— You. — The girl called out to Bertrand. — Come here.

Moriner almost jumped out of his skin from surprise but managed to regain control.
-I am a journalist. I just arrived from the capital yesterday. Here, I wanted to find out about the news... firsthand.

— Oh, really? So you're a journalist… That explains it… — The stranger released Moriner and stepped back a couple of steps. — What a coincidence! I'm also something of a journalist. I came from Nihon when I learned that there was going to be a change of power in the empire. — She stood at attention. — Sergeant Nanako, First Special Forces Detachment, 12th Army Corps! For Her Majesty Rinze Reim, into fire, into water, even into hunger!... Although, if possible, I would refuse the latter; otherwise, I wouldn't have such huge breasts," – the girl shrugged her shoulders from side to side and squeezed her chest with her hands to clearly show what she meant, – how do you like them, by the way?

- Well, the fact that you're not very social... And... - Latro poked at the newly tuned amplifier with his fingernail. - Recalling all sorts of episodes with classmates...

Marey critically examined his figure in the mirror. It seems white doesn't suit him. Or maybe it does... He didn't understand anything about suits of this level, and the salesman, sensing Marey's uncertainty like a predator sensing the weakness of its prey, latched onto him with a death grip. The man hovered around Marey like a puppy, constantly adjusting his tie or lapels, even though everything was already perfectly in place, and he kept talking, talking...
-- Look, look, the silk trim... The shirt is also pure silk, can you feel it? It suits you extraordinarily well; you, young sir, don't just look like a dandy, you look like a true aristocrat, a nobleman in this suit, I assure you!
Marey looked at his face with doubt, which he had always considered the epitome of bourgeoisness. A capricious wrinkle of displeasure appeared on his forehead, and he clearly remembered that this was often seen on the faces of, for example, the Helswaard and de Lire nobles. And the salesman continued to tempt him:
-- And the tie pin and cufflinks – all in a set... This is a unique item; you won't find anything like it in any other store, but we have the last one... Of course, if it's not within your budget, we can go back to simpler options, but that's not the same, not at all... A young man, especially one from such a prestigious academy, shouldn't dress in drab clothes... I'll give you a discount, for a good person – why not?
"Oh, how annoying," the noise and bustle of the store were already starting to get on Marey's nerves, and the prospect of spending another half hour trying on clothes was not appealing at all. The mage glanced at Nara, who was standing a little to the side, and, receiving a rather vague look of approval in return, sighed wearily.
-- That's it, enough, stop it, -- Marey waved the salesman away, interrupting his verbal diarrhea -- I've decided, I'll take it.
He looked in the mirror one more time. No, it looks good, of course. And the money... A couple of thousand more or less – worrying about such things is the concern of ordinary people. But he – Marey smiled at the dandy looking back from the mirror – definitely doesn't belong to them.

Marey, now wearing his old black cloak again, went outside, holding the door open for his companion, and stopped on the porch. The mage sighed with relief – finally, he had escaped the confines of this chaos. Before his eyes was the picture of the evening city. Among the leisurely swirling snowflakes, human figures moved, intoxicated by the same pre-holiday anxiety as the visitors to "Beatrice." From a distance, they were much more pleasant – a natural detail of the urban landscape, nothing more. Ants underfoot.
-- Never does a person burden himself with the petty trivialities of life, never is he more hurried, tense, and anxious than in the pre-holiday days, which should be days of rest and peace. Tell me, is it customary in your homeland to attach such a sacred significance to the numbers on the calendar?

- Well, the fact that you're not very social... and... - Latro poked at the freshly tuned amplifier with his fingernail. - Recalling all sorts of episodes with classmates...

— So, not very social, huh?.. Well, okay, I guess that's true. Although, if you're talking about Lotte, the problem definitely wasn't with me. Look, we're communicating with each other, for example, but she's probably still alone because of her bad character.

Tell me, is it customary in your homeland to attach such a sacred meaning to the numbers on the calendar?

— I think it's the same as everywhere else. Although, of course, it manifests itself in somewhat different things, and I don't remember such pre-holiday hustle and bustle. We usually prepare for important dates in advance.

— You. — The girl called out to Bertrand. — Come here.

- What do you want? - Bert shouted back.

- Yes? - Bert replied, approaching the couple, deciding that it was better not to argue with people in uniform.

— So, you're a journalist, is that it? — The stranger freed Moriner and stepped back a couple of paces. — What a coincidence! I'm a journalist too, in my own way. I came from Nihon when I heard that a change of power was planned in the empire. — She stood at attention. — Sergeant Nanako, First Special Forces Squad, 12th Army Corps! I'd go through fire and water, even face starvation, for Her Majesty Rinze Reim!

Moriner remembered that he had also forgotten to introduce himself properly, but he was interrupted by the girl's last comment before he could finish his intended phrase:

— Although, if possible, I'd prefer to avoid the last one, otherwise I wouldn't have such huge... assets, — the girl shrugged her shoulders from side to side and patted her chest with her hands to illustrate what she was talking about, — so, what do you think?

— Uhh. — Moriner drawled, staring for a moment at Nanako's impressive curves, then embarrassed, he looked away. — Ahem, yes... um, there's something to be proud of...

-- Rational, -- said Marey, just to say something. He stood in silence for a while, looking at the long rows of houses on the artisans' street. Many years passed before his eyes, countless people who had lived before – a deep sea of the past under a thin, but insurmountable layer of ice of the present. Something can be seen even through the ice – the history of a wood craftsman, traces of vague times, but most of what was once reality has turned into an insignificant part of the dark depths of the water. The capital suddenly appeared before Marey as a monstrous spider. Having caught people in its sticky webs, the city devoured them by the thousands, and it itself grew fat, expanding ever more. And people keep coming and coming to feed the spider... They choose a place for themselves, thinking that they own the city. No, the city owns them all. The city will devour them, making them a part of itself, of its monstrous vastness of the past.
Not the happiest of thoughts. Marey shivered and buttoned his coat tighter.
-- It's time to go back.

They walked back in silence; Marey didn't like to pollute the air with verbal garbage, and everything important had already been said. He didn't want to think about anything; he simply walked, surrendering to the quite pleasant atmosphere of the winter evening.

- Well, she's something else... She doesn't really enjoy studying; she just wanted a degree, and now she's facing strict discipline. If she had some kind of passion, like ours, it would be easier... I also remember that she didn't quite get along with Parfa either. Although, she always had a high opinion of your skills.

- Yes? - Bert replied, approaching the couple, deciding it was better not to argue with people in uniform.

The girl carefully examined the insignia on Bertrand's uniform, and then scanned the list of names in her hands.
- So, the squad of First Lieutenant Parfynora von Flexia. Answer me, what is the situation in your squad? What about the rations? I remind you that the rations for officers and ordinary soldiers in the Remian army are the same, so if your commander neglects these rules, it is your duty to report it.

Moriner remembered that he had also forgotten to introduce himself properly, but he interrupted his intended phrase with the girl's last comment:

- Uh... - Moriner drawled, staring for a moment at Nanako's impressive assets, and then embarrassed, he looked away. - Ahem, yes... um, there's something to be proud of...

- Well, there! You understand what's what, and why others can't? But never mind, Kirishima is with them, let them all blow themselves up on mines. - Nanako kicked the wall. - But still, what a time to be alive! A great empire under a great ruler is rising, trying to regain its former glory... That's three great things in one sentence, if you didn't notice. No one can predict what will happen, but it will definitely be fun. Are you ready for the upcoming events? Ha... Ha... - She breathed heavily. - I can't, as soon as I think about what awaits us, I immediately get hot.

- Well, she... She doesn't really like to study, she went for the diploma, and now there's drill. If she had some kind of hobby like ours, it would be easier... I also remember that Parfa didn't like you either. Although she always had a high opinion of your skills.

- Most likely, that's why she would have gotten rid of me a long time ago and transferred me to another class. Ironically, considering that those two were kicked out because of her dislike for them.

That's why viabu needed to be stopped right away. First, you let idols into your territory, and then you end up with kirishimki disrupting your military deployments.

- I wouldn't let her do that! - Latro assured passionately. - I'd rather leave myself. If I had to choose, it's better if you become the engineer. You have all the qualities for it. He smiled sadly. - You're a genius, and all I have is a rebellious streak. If we had stricter morals, they wouldn't even let me into the club. I couldn't even set up an amplifier, haha. How pathetic.

farewell, Heroes enthusiast

The girl carefully examined the identifying marks on Bertrand's uniform, then scanned the list of names in her hands.
— Let's see, the squad of First Lieutenant Parfynora von Flexia. Answer me, what is the situation in your squad? What about the rations? I remind you that the rations for officers and ordinary soldiers in the Rhemic army are the same, so if your commander neglects these rules, you must report it.

- Yes, ma'am, - Bertrand replied to the first question. - The situation is good, I haven't noticed anything suspicious. There were no problems with the lieutenant, and everything seems to be fine with the rations.