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- I think it will be clear soon. I'll try. If something should happen to me, then before I turn to ash, my soul will be warmed by the fact that my last meal and conversation were with you, - Miko nods and shudders from a unexpectedly cool gust of wind blowing across her bare legs. - Stay well yourself. Take care of the farm — someday it'll come in handy. And how on earth do you just sit here?..
Waving goodbye, she moves toward the location marked on the card at a fairly brisk pace — thanks to the sugar consumed recently, the springy sensation of walking in geta, and the unusual lightness of her outfit.
Checking for safety's sake with the note transferred to her notebook from the previous hint, while flipping through the pages she comes across her notes for both "Dawn" Articles. Remembering the fantastic number of dialogues with all sorts of people that she had to conduct to gather material, she realizes that perhaps, to some extent, she managed to grasp the essence of life in Margelle and the aspirations of its individual residents. Despite traits of general similarity due to each of them belonging to the human race, many of them required a special approach.
"If this were some strange role-playing game instead of real life, then probably this multi-week experience could be marked as an approximate increase of six... no... three? units of charisma" - she thought. - "Although I'm surely overestimating myself..."
The bright sunlight and pleasant summer atmosphere through which she traveled could not help but put her in a peaceful mood.
Who would have thought that just a couple of weeks ago this quiet forest became the refuge of a maniac guard who destroyed two dozen innocent souls? Remembering those events, she only sighed — in this world no one was safe, even the capital residents of the richest and most advanced country in the region. Yesterday you are born and attend school, dreaming of becoming someone or achieving something, parents plan expenses that will help their descendant self-actualize, achieve success and continue their own lineage; today you walk to work cheerfully whistling and wait for Friday, after which you can dive into a pub, or spend money at "XXX", or buy the latest issue of "Empire Beauties" and spend the weekend in high spirits, or even go fishing by the sea, enjoying its monolithic primordiality that dissolves all your worldly worries; and tomorrow... there is no tomorrow for you, because quite casually, without any compelling reason, you are hacked to pieces by some completely random person whose entire purpose of existence in your city is directed toward shielding you from such threats. It turns out that even the simplest working-class ordinary person is not insured against a tragic accident capable of destroying or cutting short their life at any moment.
And how then is working in "Rabbit" or "Abundance" fundamentally better than setting off on a journey to distant lands, where death will overtake you from the same randomness, but at least this risk will be justified by potentially exorbitant treasures, priceless life experience and the collection of a whole heap of interesting stories with which one can conquer friends in a beer house, women at a ball, or even some unfortunate frail old man with an excess of pension in his account and a lack of life impressions? The question remains open.
In any case, at least guard Viktor received punishment for his deeds, and by the will of Kami — sooner or later the arrow of justice will pierce that hole left in his body after the extraction of his rotten heart, which was such only in words. This last thought — however naive-idealistic it might be — pleased the middle-aged Japanese woman in whose mind it had just been born. She felt five units of spirit returning to her, lost on that bloody night.
Before entering the thicket, Ayano stops and carefully double-checks her belongings. After thinking for a moment, she puts the bell back into the bag and takes a second quiver in its place. The forest should probably be considered safe, since rich people live nearby, but who knows with full certainty what might be there?..
"They fear you more than you fear them" — that's what parents tell their small children who panic at the mere sight of a wasp or a mouse, and that's also what the abbess told her in early childhood when teaching her to exorcise ghosts. But caution never hurts.
Tightly gripping her long and heavy yumi, which after dwarven work created the illusion as if its surface were covered in lacquer, although it had never undergone such treatment, she checks if it sits well in her hands and if the bowstring is tight enough. It turned out to be quite so, despite the fact that the last time she used it was before her summoning.
"Japanese quality" - she thinks proudly.
All of them in the temple were traditionally taught archery, and she never liked it — the weapon was too cumbersome, useless, pointless for their work, and even left calluses on the fingers. Upon leaving Japan, the need to maintain the image vanished and she abandoned this art, but after some time, upon arriving on the Tiaral continent, she realized that something was missing. Missing her homeland, mostly for fun, she acquired this tool again — perhaps memories of forgotten days would tickle a nostalgic vein? But very soon she vividly remembered the reasons why she had abandoned this art — her hands still shook, and her fingers still grew rough.
Smiling sadly at her old inconveniences, she stroked the yumi with a completely different feeling, for now it was one of the most unique artifacts from another planet, the likes of which could not be found here — surely even the wood from which it was carved does not grow here.
Closing her eyes, she brings it to position, draws it, holds it for a while, and then releases the string — it snaps straight with a sharp dull thrum. The physical sensations had not changed, but something in her soul felt different.
After reflecting for some more time and getting used again to the long-forgotten feeling of wielding this weapon, she finally manages to reproduce a couple of techniques that were hammered into her by the abbess's stick but long since forgotten: the correct stance for holding the bow — for better accuracy, and an efficient movement of the hands with minimum unnecessary motions — for greater firing speed.
Opening her eyes, she slings the yumi over her shoulder, flicks away a stray bug from her thigh with a snap of her finger, and decisively moves exactly along the vector of coordinates.
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