The sole candle on the bedside table illuminated the dark plank room. It was a familiar sight, especially the girl who sat on the bed placed by the corner.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Sévir asked the girl who shared his DNA. They were much smaller then.
"I want to become a writer."
"A writer?" It made sense to him, after all she was big into literature. "I never see you make stories though."
"Cause I don't know how to write them!" She climbed up the bed and stood mighty, her chest pumped and hands on her waist. "But just because I can't write now, doesn't mean I'll never write. I have so many ideas in store," she gazed up, extending her open hands, "and when the time comes, I want to share them with the world."
Her dreamy voice caught his attention. Gazing up, she looked so pure and innocent as she had always been.
She turned around, clasping her hands behind. "I know I'm not worthy to share it now, but I'll work hard over and over."
There was something in her tone that warmed his body amidst the subtle cold. Was it her dream? Her determination? Right now, he couldn't tell, nor speak.
"I think writing is just repeating. Or anything in general is just that;—repeating until you get better." she sat down, hugging her knees. "I think it's amazing how people could have so much determination, it moves me into tears."
While not fully, she turned around to meet his gaze. "Like you."
"Me?" Surprise jolted to being mentioned. He scratched his head and peered her with disbelief. "That's not true.. I'm not really determined or anything."
"Yes you are. Like me, who is determined to write and show the world the grandiose of my dreams, you're determined because of a future."
"..."
"Am I right?"
A future, huh? He never thought of a future where he was included. He only saw the past and present, and did whatever he could to bring food to the table.
He looked down his feet, a sea of thoughts whirling around.
"Brother, what is your dream?"
.
.
.
*
"My dream..?" he asked himself as he stared at his dark boots and the tilted surface, but he knew just how pointless that question was.
Walking forward, he knew he had no specific dream. His goal to kill Bernard Trysta and avenge his family was never a dream. "It's an inevitable reality." he confidently muttered through his cold signature voice. It was probably this same exact confidence that got him this far.
"What's inevitable?" uttered a feminine voice from behind. He turned around to something crawling on his spine, then witnessing a fog of shadow emerging out of nowhere as if defying the physics of light.
A curvy figure conjured from said fog, taking in the appearance of a black-haired girl whose majority of her pale skin was covered in a grey and burgundy dress.
"You're late."
The girl chuckled mischievously. "Am I? The last time I checked, I'm five minutes early." If it wasn't her appearance, then it was her slightly off stress pattern and flatter intonation common in the Janians of the east.
There was no mistaking who she was:—Yasume Rokume, or how she names herself, Rokume Yasume: The One Shot.
Fortunately, the lively chatters from beneath didn't overpower their communication. Both glanced down, absorbing the view of colourful moving figures as if the streets were flooded.
"It's lively now, isn't it?"
He folded his arms. "That should be the case when something like Martial Law is lifted."
That's right—Martial Law was lifted just 11 days later, just when everyone thought it would last for an eternity.
"Still, it isn't exactly a festival for their pouches."
"(Yes) Ee, I noticed a huge rise in prices. Even a basic apple that used to cost 5 Argenti rose to 9." Putting that into perspective, it highlighted just how affected the people were in those 11 days.
"Not a problem for the noble students." However, "But whatever," Sévir couldn't be bothered to talk about it, "we have a mission to do."
"More like, a personal favour..~"
He huffed with knitted brows. "Don't make it sound so suggestive, jackass. It's not that kind of favour."
A weak moan escaped her mouth as she hugged herself. "Ah.. After everything we did together…"
"So ungentlemanly of you," a matured feminine voice emanated from behind, "Sévir."
Both turned around, their gazes landing on a woman as tall as Sévir, who was half a head taller than Yasume. Her purple hair was silkier than he remembered, though her straight and confident posture and little smirk remained the same.
"Witch.. / Ardell-sensei!" The two faced each other, their faces wearing confusion. "You know her?" They asked at the same time.
Ardell giggled, her smug smile hinting at delight. "So you two are acquainted already? That saves me some effort."
Eyeing Yasume, he remembered Ardell mentioning a girl, if he'd like to get matched with her to which he absolutely refused. He eyed Ardell, his gaze wording out: "So this is her?"
He folded his arms. "What are you doing here anyways? I don't remember inviting you."
"An adult must supervise children."
His gaze turned to a glare. "We're old enough to take care of ourselves."
"I asked Ardell-sensei to come." she gestured to Ardell. "..Or more like, she pestered me to let her come when she found out I was doing someone a personal favour."
He sighed and turned away. "Whatever. Are you sure you can help me?"
Ardell tilted her head. "Of course! After all, I'm a professor." she clasped her hands. "I can brief students whenever I want to.."
He raised a brow, studying her. "Did you find out something?"
"Naturally." she rested a hand atop her chest. "I found out Zephyr's last area from her group, though they weren't the most enthusiastic mentioning it."
"Zephyr?" Yasume leaned forward, her hands on her hips. "Who's Zephyr? Is she a.. Fring!?"
"She's my sister. And it's 'Fling', not 'Fring'."
"Ah," she leaned back, her hands on her heart. "Thank god, I thought I'd have some competition!"
"Competition?" He shook his head and peered Ardell. "Also, where's the area?"
"At the southernmost point of the Sutsa-Eatsa border."
Hearing this, Sévir froze. Not in fear, but as his body warmed and tensed, he could feel something else flowing through his blood.
Ardell's gaze softened a little. "Sévir, I also believe Zephyr's not dead like everyone thinks."
"Yeah.." he looked down and closed his eyes.
To him, there was no way his little sister was dead. He didn't believe it since the very moment he heard from her group.
That's right, he was the first to find out, though indirectly.
He glanced back at Yasume and Ardell, both of which seemed to stand firm meeting his resolute gaze.
Observing Yasume had let him conclude her abilities with [Time Magic], there was a good chance she could look into the past.
Ardell, though overbearing at times, he couldn't outright reject her when she was the eldest. She held greater knowledge than he could muster.
Perhaps, they were just the right people to [help] him.—Not even Sanguinex and Minerva.
The thought of asking for help always irked him and left his nerves burning, even now, his muscles tensed to try.
His mouth opened, yet no words came out. This made him frown and loathe. "Dammit, why can't I ask..?" He muttered, his fists clenching tightly.
The two ladies stood silent, as if waiting for his next words.
But he couldn't be a coward now, he thought, not when Zephyr's life is at stake.
Every nerve burned, not in anger, but in a power more overwhelming than any emotion.
With a fist tightly against his chest, and a gaze as sincere as it could get, he asked: "I need you both to.." he pursed his lips. "Help me find my sister."
Ardell's smile grew. He had a hunch on what it was about,—after all, he was requesting for help when he never did before.
Yasume smiled back. Though he couldn't grasp the meaning behind her cryptic smile, as long as she helped, her mysteriousness didn't pose a threat.
Ardell stepped forward. "We'll help you."
That was all he needed to hear.
He nodded, and the three went their way to the Sutsa-Eatsa border.
.
.
.
*
Beneath the spotlight lighting the otherwise dark room, the smoke-grey haired human polymorph found herself kneeling before the stern back of a blonde man, his long hair tied to a single narrow ponytail, and his hands clasped behind.
"Is that so?" his matured voice subtly echoed to the ceiling.
"Yes. It seems to me that the bandits have captured a student for the Papacy's use."
"Very well. Do you happen to know who the student is?"
She nodded. "I'm not sure exactly how well off her body is, but you'll be delighted to know who it is."
He slightly shifted around, half of his sharp and ageing face revealed. "Oh? Who might this be, Muspelheim?"
Muspelheim, or Ayuna's mouth slightly curved up. "Zephyr van Doren."
She studied his stoic expression, slowly etching its own smile. "I believe we found the buried treasure."
She raised a brow. "How so?"
"Having worked with the Dorens in the past," he fully faced her, "I've no doubt in their genetics."
His calm footsteps tapped through the seemingly giant room, inching closer to Ayuna. "They seem to get stronger and stronger with every offspring," he extended half an arm, "not even any of my research could explain such phenomena."
She locked gazes with his distant, calculating strawberry eyes. Hers narrowed, grasping every word he spoke. "If that's so, then Zephyr's.."
"She's the perfect candidate."
Their likewise cryptic smiles wordlessly conversed. It was all she needed to confirm they were on the same ship.
Moving forward, she was going to face fierce opposition.—At least she hoped that would be the case. Her fists tightened, a massive wave of thrill pounding her heart and weakening her knees.
Bernard's gaze softened, as if recognising her excitement. "Well, I should arrange everything already." He walked past her. "After all, I wouldn't want to leave [Vyshledi] a bad impression."