"Laila, hey..."
'Who's bothering me again?' The shaking on her shoulder became a little stronger. She stuck the pen into the embers and looked up.
"Uh-huh?"
"The paper is shredded. I left three intact in case something went wrong."
Laila nodded in agreement, reached into the bag, and pulled out a test tube-like container of red powder. She poured a small pinch into the fire before filling the empty pot by the river and placing it on the shabby rusty scaffolding. The runes glowed as the screeching flames crawled along the written network.
"Kurumi, so the two... figures. Were they clones?"
"I suspect so."
Coughing, Kurumi stepped closer. The brew resembled a red and green mixture, slowly turning into a brown mass. Laila could only hope that all the effort was worth it. But who was she to mess up even such simple alchemy? She picked up her fan and began to stir the liquid evenly.
"Wouldn't you rather use a stick?" Kurumi feared. Rust had already started to eat the pots inside walls.
"I'd love to," Laila replied and began to squeeze a little mana into the kettle. "But the stick is made of too many impurities. Don't worry; my fan won't react to it. Can't say the same for the pot... and you really bought a stainless steel one?"
"Unless I've suddenly forgotten Japanese, I'd say it's stainless steel."
Laila rolled her eyes. Bubbles burst. She grabbed the bowl of old paper and tipped the contents into the bubbling brew. She looked at a note again before grabbing a bottle of silver table salt. Foam jumped out of the pot and screeched in the flames.
"Strange."
"Should I be worried?" she heard Kurumi distantly while rummaging through the countless sketches and formulas.
"Maybe my measurements are wrong?" She quickly opened her fan, looked at a glowing rune, and changed the numbers before checking again.
"What the hell is wrong with this city? I couldn't possibly have done such sloppy work." She checked the runes a second, no, even a third time, shaking her head in frustration and rubbing her eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"If I didn't know better, I'd say Fuyuki's mana concentration has shifted. And very drastically. But that can't possibly happen without a significant storm."
"Shall we move the whole thing to my shadow?" Kurumi suggested.
"No, your shadow is made of an imaginary element. A talented magus could probably factor in the Imaginary Axis Shift... But I have no idea how to do that."
"I didn't understand a word you said," Kurumi grumbled and suddenly clutched her dress. "Wait, wait, wait... when did you examine my shadow?"
Laila bit her lip and continued to stir. Just don't respond, and the subject goes away on its own. Kurumi didn't seem interested in pressing any further. Beads of sweat plagued her forehead. Despite the cold, her skin turned red, and her cheeks puffed out under rapid breathing.
The time at the forest's edge passed quickly and with much success. They packed up their things and disposed of the pot. The paper dried despite the cold. It was probably due to the fire element in the air, but Laila wasn't sure. From the river, a mist flooded Fuyuki until they were knee-deep and could barely see the snow under their feet.
By now, they were in an old house. The door creaked open. Warm air flowed from the heater. Laila's head occasionally sagged forward. The city seemed dead in the darkness. A fog lingered over Fuyuki, occasionally making the air crackle.
That very evening, she wrote the letter. Mr. Johne's golden stamp shimmered on the paper. Now, they could only hope that it arrived. There was a good chance, but you never know. Her nervousness didn't go away, and she had trouble staying calm despite her tiredness.
Laila spent her time at the table rubbing her eyes. Perhaps even everyday people could see the spectacle in the sky. Blurry, perhaps faint, but still visible. In front of her lay a piece of paper with a floor plan of the house. With Various runes marked on different rooms.
"Where are you going?" Laila asked as Kurumi walked to the door.
"To stretch my legs."
Laila nodded and placed her pen next to the parchment. She staggered from her chair and reached for her jacket.
"You are not going," Kurumi said, pulling the jacket off her shoulder. Laila resisted. An unpleasant, suffocating cold moved through her airways. Her fingers clutched the inner lining with determination. She had to go.
"I can help." Kurumi waved her hands, sighing. "You don't understand. I, I have to come. Please. It's important."
"Why?"
"I feel useless just sitting here like this," Laila replied and tried to open the door, but Kurumi was too strong and wouldn't let her pass. Her hand was like a lock in front of the exit. Even after a tug, the damn wood didn't react. Uselessly, she moved her hands.
"You are staying here," Kurumi said again, loudly, and all at once, her presence seemed to grow. Laila had to avert her eyes. The pause was unbearable. "Or do I have to tie you to the bed?"
"...Amalia," Laila whispered. Her chest constricted at the mere utterance. "She's out there. I just know it. I might even be able to find her right now with my fan."
"I'm not here to play kindergarten simply because you're looking for gold in a haystack. Enough, I won't risk the Grail for a mere chance."
Laila grunted disapprovingly but didn't dare to say anything. Her entire body felt sluggish and slow. Her tiered eyes looked at the ground. Who knew if Amalia was still alive? Every second could be decisive. She didn't want to think about it but feared what she might find. Without looking back, Kurumi closed the door and disappeared into the foggy darkness.
"Tomorrow then!" Laila demanded, but her voice couldn't possibly have reached outside. And certainly not through the growing fog, which stared through the windows like countless eyes. What were those creatures inside, she wondered. She rubbed her eyes in silence, and everything disappeared. Perhaps she really could use some sleep.