Novels2Search

AFTEREFFECTS

That same afternoon, Rucciménkagri left her house and began strolling through the area.

“Don’t go too far,” Logan said.

“Don’t worry,” she replied with a smile.

Rucciménkagri walked until she reached a field, as she was responsible for nourishing nature once a month. She sat on a stone and began to recite words in the language of nature, or at least that’s how humans would describe it. She called it "Kray’norfía," which in English meant “Clear and Calm,” a way of preserving nutrients and encouraging the healthy growth of trees, plants, and flowers.

That day, like many before, was cold, and to protect herself, she wore a poncho. Her hair, made of leaves that were now nearly all red, her feet, formed from roots, and her arms, made of stone, helped shield her from the chill. This was her attire for the cold.

Sitting there, she finished her ritual just as she had begun it.

“Kray’norfía.”

At that moment, she heard footsteps approaching.

“I’m glad to see you here.”

Rucciménkagri opened her eyes and turned her head.

“Sofía Ibarra Zapirón.”

“Once again, thank you for giving me a place to stay.”

“I knew Candado would help you. After all, people may say what they want, but he would never abandon someone in need.”

“Thank you.”

“Also, it’s a gesture of gratitude. Thanks for teaching me to use my magic. This staff has been truly helpful.”

“You’re welcome. But… is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I just came to visit you, Gabriel Teacher.”

“About that… I had to have a last name and middle name.”

“I noticed.”

“You can’t fool me, Ibarra. I know you’re hiding something more.”

Sofía’s expression turned serious.

“The Witnesses have set fire to the city of Buenos Aires.”

“I’m aware.”

“They’ve also been making many union leaders disappear lately. They vanish one day, and the next their mutilated bodies are found. Strangely, it looks like the work of a single individual. I’m quite certain it’s Desza.”

“That boy. I feel sorry for what happened to him…”

“Yes? He’s the one whose powers Candado stripped away.”

“Candado, Arce, and César.”

“You know them?”

“Yes, I know them. Are you done?”

“No, I’d like to discuss something.”

“What about?”

“…”

Rucciménkagri closed her eyes for a moment.

“All right,” she then opened them. “Let’s talk.”

Candado was sitting on his bed, a heater on his desk, playing a video game his parents had given him. He’d made it home without trouble; Alicia had bid him and Hammya farewell and offered to drive Germán home.

“Ugh, how boring.”

Candado dropped the controller; he’d finished the game in two hours. He stood up and headed to Hammya’s room, where he found Clementina outside the door.

“Oh, young…”

“Master, yes, I know how this goes: you bother me, I yell; you tease me, I yell again, and we go back to the usual.”

“…”

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Miss Hammya is being looked after by Europa; her cold has left her unable to move.”

“And why are you here?” Candado asked coolly.

“To keep you or any other male from crossing this door.”

Candado stared at her, expressionless.

“Clementina.”

“Yes?”

“You know all the doors in this house have locks.”

“Ever since Gabriela and Facundo became… very close, yes.”

“That wasn’t necessary to mention,” he sighed. “I know when a human lies, but not when a machine does. However, knowing the door locks from the inside, there’s no need for a ‘bodyguard.’”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Here I see two possibilities. First, Hammya is so scatterbrained that she forgot the door locks and asked you to stand guard, and you, finding the situation amusing, agreed without hesitation.”

“The second?” Clementina asked, holding back laughter.

“That you two are plotting something, and I don’t like it.”

Candado placed his hand on the doorknob, but Clementina placed her hand over his.

“Girl stuff.”

“How I wish you were here.”

“Step back, sir, or I’ll be forced to use force.”

“Want an alfajor?”

“You won’t bribe me with that.”

“A box of alfajores?”

“Deal,” then she glanced at the door and closed her eyes. “Sorry, Miss.”

Candado reached into his pocket and pulled out a red key, then handed it to her.

“You know where it is?”

“Of course I do.”

Clementina skipped away happily.

Candado looked at the door, placed his hand back on the doorknob, and carefully opened it.

“What the…?” he then opened the door wider. “HAMMYA!” Candado shouted.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

Candado had reason to yell: the girl was straining her body to levitate, which was raising her fever dramatically. Her clothes were damp with sweat. Noticing Candado’s presence, Hammya was startled and fell to the floor.

Candado quickly helped her up, supporting her on his shoulder.

“So this was what you were trying to hide from me?”

“I was… testing something…”

“Heavens, you’re burning up,” Candado said, removing his glove and placing his hand on her forehead.

“That’s why I stationed Clementina at the door,” she replied, starting to cough.

“You need a bath, and fast.”

Candado led her to the bathtub.

“I can do it alone.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. This bathroom has a window big enough for you to escape.”

“Damn,” Hammya murmured.

“What did you say?”

“Pervert.”

Candado grabbed her cheek and gave a gentle tug.

“It hurts; I’m sick.”

“Too bad.”

Candado settled her in the tub. Then, with his ungloved index finger, he blew softly, creating a small flame. He placed his finger on her forehead, and the flame disappeared.

“What are you doing?”

Candado responded with a clap, leaving Hammya in only her underwear.

“What are you…?! —[hit by a sponge the size of her face].”

“Now bathe,” Candado said, turning on the warm water and closing the curtain before sitting on a nearby stool.

Hammya removed the sponge from her face and threw it away.

“I could’ve done it alone. You’re a pervert.”

Candado flushed the toilet.

“AHHHHHHHHHH! IT’S HOT!”

“Stop whining. It’ll warm up again.”

“It’s not good for me.”

“Bathe.”

Hammya pressed her body against the wall to avoid the cold water.

“How did you get Clem to agree?”

“I bribed her with alfajores.”

“Our friendship means nothing.”

“Exactly.”

“THAT’S CRUEL!”

“Don’t shout; you’re sick.”

Hammya calmed down, submerging herself in the tub while turning off the water.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

“No.”

“Can I bathe alone?”

“If the bathroom didn’t have a window, I’d leave.”

“I’m not going to escape.”

“You’re lying.”

“Really.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

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“You are.”

Hammya splashed the water.

“How do you know?”

“Practice.”

“Oh…”

“Also, someone telling the truth doesn’t give up and ask how I know they’re lying.”

Hammya slapped the water.

“You didn’t think of that, did you?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stop doing that.”

At that moment, Hammya had the idea to try it again, using the curtain as a shield, raising her hand in the air.

“You’d better not try the same thing here, or I’ll pull back the curtain and watch you directly.”

Hammya lowered her arm, resigned.

“Why do you insist? Since you arrived, you’ve wanted to do that. If it weren’t for Mom finding you lying on the ground, you’d be much worse off.”

“…”

“What did Sara tell you?”

Hammya sighed.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a half-truth.”

“Analyze it, Sherlock.”

“She gave you information, but it wasn’t what you expected.”

“Correct.”

A few hours earlier…

“To be honest, I’m somewhat surprised you already know, but I suppose you’re also aware that your powers are similar to Candado’s.”

“What? No, no, no. You must be mistaken.”

“Your powers, the same ones I feel now, are almost identical to Candado’s; they’re on the same frequency as the meteor from a hundred years ago. You’re like a pioneer, only much stronger than him.”

“What? Impossible.”

“But what I sense is true.”

“But…”

“However, like Candado, you harbor a second life within you, though yours seems more like a guardian than anything else.”

“A guardian?”

“Something like that; it’s the same one you used to defend Candado once and also when you attacked him. Your origin is from another place, outside this planet; you’re neither human nor a reborn like me. You’re different. Your powers will reveal more in time. From the moment we’re born, our second soul already holds memories.”

“Will I be able to know them?”

“As you are now, no, but with time, you’ll learn to control it. Your abilities are exquisite, Hammya. You can understand any language.”

In that moment, she remembered a conversation with Declan.

"Don’t listen to him; he’s a durubu."

"It’s ‘dúr,’ Viki, and no, that’s not true."

"Whatever, you’re an idiot who talks funny."

"And you’re a tá tú le muc an—horrid."

Viki became flustered as Declan spoke in Irish. Hammya's eyes sparkled.

"You're a horrid pig."

"What? I’m defending you here!"

"No, that's not what you think. That’s what he said, in English."

"How did that happen?"

"The situation stirred something deep in your power. You thought it made you unique and tried to keep it a secret. Big mistake, because when you don’t use your power, it lies dormant. That’s what’s happening to you now."

"Does that mean… I need to use magic to know my past?"

"Exactly. It might work, or it might not."

Present

"I see, that’s what he said."

"Yes, I thought that if I pushed my body, I’d get everything I needed... a memory or something."

"Hammya."

"Yes?"

"Where does that name come from?"

"My father gave it to me. He said he saw it on a necklace."

"No trouble at school because of it?"

"No, no one cared about my name. However..."

"However?"

"Nothing, forget it."

Candado stood up and walked toward the door.

"Candado?"

"I'll be in my room."

"But what about keeping watch?"

"I’ll trust you not to climb out the window."

Then Candado closed the door behind him and leaned back against it.

"What was that feeling?"

He looked at the ceiling for a moment, then rubbed his face with his gloved right hand. But as he took a step forward, he suddenly dropped to his knees and covered his mouth. Through the gaps between his fingers, a red liquid began to trickle, dripping to the floor.

"No, no, no, no, no."

He tried to hold back everything in his throat, attempting to swallow the blood in his mouth. But it was in vain; he couldn’t hold it, and so he rushed back to the bathroom.

“You’re back.”

Ignoring her, Candado quickly kneeled in front of the toilet, letting go of everything in his mouth.

“Candado, are you alright?” Hammya asked, wrapping herself in a towel and getting up.

"NO!... Don’t move that curtain. I don’t want you looking at me; it would hurt your eyes."

"Oh, come on, it's not..."

"HAMMYA!"

The girl’s hand froze just before touching the curtain.

"Are you alright?"

The sink faucet turned on.

"Of course I’m alright," Candado said, breathing heavily.

Despite his answer, Hammya moved the curtain just a few inches and peeked at him. What she saw left her stunned: in just five seconds, she captured the image of him reflected in the mirror. Candado had blood smeared across his lips, and his left eye was entirely yellow. The sight frightened her, and she quickly hid again.

“Girl.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be in my room. If you need anything, ask Clementina. I’ll be busy.” Then he muttered with a wince, “It burns.”

“Candado.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t overexert yourself.”

Candado looked at the curtain that separated them, noticing a small gap through which he guessed she had spied on him—a fact that amused him slightly. But unable to confirm it, the answer remained ambiguous. Then he reached his right hand into his pocket while grabbing the doorknob with the other.

“When you’re finished, get back to bed.”

“What...?” she wondered, surprised by that comment.

With that, Candado left the bathroom and headed to his room, opening the door smoothly and closing it behind him.

“My Isidro…” he said, leaning against the door.

Then he walked over to the mirror and stared at himself.

“You’re rotten, Candado,” he murmured, giving a wry smile. “Where are you, Tínbari?”

Candado placed his hand over his left eye, now completely black.

“I don’t like any of this, Candado.”

Hearing that voice, he turned around in alarm, only to see Tínbari standing there, hands behind his back, surrounded by dark smoke.

“I thought you’d make a joke.”

“The spell is advancing rapidly; there’s no time for humor.”

Candado’s smile turned sadistic.

“I don’t care.”

“Candado, this is serious. Don’t play dumb; your life’s at stake.”

“Tínbari, my life has always been at stake. Since I entered your sphere, I was aware that every second could be my last. In fact, I did die. But I took the risk anyway. Being numb to what happens to me means I’ve seen the face of death many times—and not necessarily yours, Tínbari. I’ve only seen two Baris in my life, well, heard of one, but it’s something that cures you of fear.”

“Candado…”

“However, it’s necessary to keep the secret from the others.”

“How do you plan to hide this change?”

Candado went to his drawer and took out a wicker sewing kit.

“With art, anything is possible.”

“What?”

“I’ll make an eye patch. A pretty cool one.”

“I don’t like your attitude, Candado.”

“Nor do I like yours. So we’re even.”

Candado sat at his desk, beginning to choose a fabric for his patch.

“Day by day, you grow weaker, and you show not a shred of concern.”

“You’re the one who turned me into this.”

“No, you did.”

With those words, Tínbari vanished, a disappointed look on his face.

“Demonto...” Candado muttered as he continued sewing.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Clementina was sitting on the couch with Karen on her lap, watching TV and sharing a box of alfajores with the baby.

"See, little miss? That one is identical to your brother."

Karen clapped, displaying a demeanor strikingly similar to her brother's.

"It seems it's hereditary."

Clementina hugged Karen as if she were a stuffed toy and began tickling her, prompting a burst of laughter from the little one. Just then, Mrs. Europa Barret entered from the adjoining room, dressed in long pants, white slippers, a black sweater, and a vermilion cardigan.

"What are my girls up to?" she asked with a smile.

"Playing," Clementina replied.

Europa sat down beside her, and Clementina offered to hand Karen over, which she accepted delightedly, showering the baby with kisses.

"Hello, my darling little girl," Europa cooed in a soft, loving tone that made the child giggle.

"Pfft."

"And where are the boys?" Europa asked.

"Candado is in Hammya's room, probably confessing his love."

"Candado would never do that... I think."

"It was a joke," Clementina laughed.

"And the gentleman?"

"Sleeping. He worked hard yesterday, so he deserves it."

"You're very considerate, Mrs. Barret."

"He's my husband, and even if he acts tough at times, I don't want him to collapse."

"I'm glad to hear that."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll go check," Clementina said.

She stood up and walked to the door, opening it to find Mauricio on the other side.

"Hello."

"Hello, Mauricio. Young Candado is upstairs."

"If he heard you say that, he'd tear you to pieces."

"Candado is like a dog that barks but doesn’t bite."

"Then he'd reassemble you and tear you apart again for comparing him to a dog."

Clementina let out a small laugh and stepped aside.

"Come in."

Mauricio took off his hat.

"Who was it?" Europa asked.

"Oh, still as beautiful as ever, Mrs. Barret."

"Oh, welcome, Mauricio. How are you?"

"I'm much better now that I see you."

"Flatterer. It’s a relief to hear that."

"Well, I don’t want to be impolite, but I need to talk to Candado."

"No problem, come on in."

"Thank you."

Mauricio patted Clementina's head, leaned his staff against the wall, and headed up the stairs. He walked down the long hallway and stopped at a door with a sign in Latin: Cogito ergo sum. He smiled and knocked.

"Who is it?"

"Che ha'e yke’y" (It's me, brother).

"Peho" (Come in).

Mauricio opened the door and saw his friend’s back.

"How are you, Candado?"

"The usual: fights, bullets, brawls…" Candado turned to look at him, revealing a red patch over his eye, "and blood."

"What happened to your eye?"

"I hurt myself."

"Oh, wow… does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn’t hurt."

"Wow, wow, and triple wow."

"What do you want, dog?"

"Ahem, I need to talk to you about something important."

"About what?"

"About Yara."

Candado leaned forward.

"I'm listening."

"The other day, while we were strolling through Barranqueras…”

"Why did you take her there?"

"Don’t change the subject."

"I’ll get you for that later; go on."

"As I was saying, while we were strolling, Yara told me she wanted to go to kindergarten."

"What?"

"As you heard, she wants to go to kindergarten."

"She did turn five four months ago, but it’s still too soon."

"Yes, I was surprised too; she seemed very determined."

"She’s a strong girl."

"Though a bit dependent on us."

Candado leaned back in his chair.

"Truthfully, I don’t want her to go, but it’s necessary for her to develop life skills."

"It’s strange hearing you say that."

"I’m making an effort not to make a scene."

"I figured. What are you going to do about it?"

"It’s July, so there are no classes, but they resume on the thirtieth."

"So that means…"

"Yes, Yara will go to kindergarten."

"Wow."

Candado turned his chair and resumed writing.

"That’s all, right?"

"Yes, sure."

"Candado, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Candado looked up, setting his pencil aside.

"No, there’s nothing."

"Alright, I’ll believe you."

Mauricio left the room, but before closing the door, he looked back at his friend with curiosity.

"See you."

Minutes later, the door closed.

"This is exhausting," Candado said, setting the pencil down beside the page before standing up.

In the hallway, he made his way to Hammya’s room and knocked.

"Hello, can I come in?"

"Sure."

Candado opened the door and saw Hammya lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"So boring..."

Candado walked over and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Your fever’s gone down a bit. But you’re staying in bed until you’re better."

"I don’t want to. Hey… what happened to your eye?"

"This?" Candado asked, bringing a hand to the patch.

"Yes, that."

"Nothing serious, it’ll be fine."

"(Liar). It was probably… a mosquito? They’re annoying, yes."

"Of course they are."

Candado sat on the bed, keeping his hand on Hammya's forehead.

"(Why? Why, Candado, are you hiding this from me?) Hey, why are you doing this?"

"Your hair is magical. By using that dye, you forced your body to expel the 'intruder,' getting rid of what little defensive magic you had left, leaving you vulnerable to harmful bacteria without any reserve protection."

"What?"

"In other words, you made yourself sick with your own power."

"I see. And… how long are you planning to keep your hand on my forehead?"

"I'm sharing a bit of my power; the fever should go down with this."

Alarmed, Hammya quickly pushed Candado's hand away.

"No!"

Candado didn't react.

"Well, that’s unexpected."

"You need it more than I do."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

Candado leaned closer to Hammya.

"What's wrong? Tell me."

"I won’t."

Candado sighed and moved back from her.

"Fine, don’t tell me; I can't force you. I just want to ask you one thing in return."

"What?"

"Don't leave your bed for any reason."

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?"

"I mean, just rest here and avoid any unnecessary strain."

"Alright."

"After all, you're sick."

"We’re both sick."

"Maybe, maybe not," Candado said coldly.

"(Evasive.) Do you have to keep wearing that patch?"

"Yes, until I'm well."

"Fine."

Candado placed his hand on her forehead again.

"You know, I can tell there’s something worrying you. I also know you speak to me silently. Maybe I’ve asked this before, but I’ll ask again: why do you worry?"

"Because I'm your friend. And also because I know that feeling. My father used to do the same thing: hide things, and at night, he would go suffer alone in the bathroom. I never did anything for him, I…"

Candado placed his hand on her forehead once more.

"Even if you had done something, it wouldn't have saved him. Cancer takes your life regardless. So stop worrying. Maybe it's true that I’ll die from this crap too, but that’s something I chose."

At that moment, Hammya saw her father in Candado's figure.

"No…"

"Hammya, stop worrying about me. Besides being annoying, you're only hurting yourself; all your efforts are pointless."

Hammya slowly pulled Candado’s hand from her forehead, covering herself with the blanket, upset by what he had said.

"I want to be alone."

"Alright."

Candado stood, put his hands in his pockets, and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Hammya pulled the blanket down and stared at the ceiling.

"My actions aren’t pointless. I’m going to help you, whether you agree or not."

Hammya jumped out of bed, opened a wardrobe, and began dressing warmly: black leather boots, a gray wool coat, an orange scarf, and a hat. Then she opened the window and jumped to one of the tree branches, grabbing onto the sturdiest one. Carefully, she climbed down to the ground.

"This is crazy."

Hammya put on a pair of brown leather gloves, vaulted over the garden wall, and headed into the forest.

"I have to tell them, I have to tell them," she repeated as she ran with all her might, convinced that the time had come for the truth.

Meanwhile, at the guild, Matlotsky was planning another prank on his boss using Lucas's gear.

"I told you not to touch my stuff."

"Don't worry, I’m a builder."

"And I’m a brilliant scientist and inventor. Don't touch anything; last time you made Candado bald."

"And he buried me alive. I spent the whole day underground; we’re even."

"You're a bloody masochist."

"Not at all, my friend, not at all. Besides, what could be worse than a biting plush toy?"

"Don’t bring Tadeo into this, builder."

Just then, German entered, carrying a cup of hot milk.

"Hey, are you planning to annoy Candado?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Well, count me in."

"German!"

"Relax, Lucas."

"We could use kerosene in his water bottle."

"That’s too extreme," Anzor said as he polished his sword.

"And you did that last year," Pucheta added while fiddling with his phone.

"True; he even hung me from the mast and called me the 'flag of fools.'"

"I took loads of photos," Pucheta chimed in.

"Don’t remind me, Anzor."

"How stupid. You do nothing but cause trouble for Candado," Declan muttered while reading a book.

"You’re always opposing us, Irishman; you’re no fun."

"I don't understand why Candado doesn’t kick you out."

"Easy, easy, Declan, relax; there’s no need to punish Matlotsky. Life already made him ugly."

"Exac… Hey!"

"I’ve never seen a greater universal truth in all of quantum existence, German."

Everyone laughed. But in the midst of their laughter, a loud crash at the door interrupted them.

"What’s going on?" asked Pio, who was painting a picture.

The door opened, and from the corner of the hallway appeared a familiar figure—the new student.

"Hammya?" asked Lucia, adjusting her glasses.

"I need… to tell you… about…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, first of all, what happened to your hair?" Lucas approached Hammya. "And second, take a deep breath and exhale, because you look like you just ran a marathon."

"Weak," Declan remarked with a smirk.

"Don't be like that. Some of us women can’t run in the cold," Viki scolded.

"Ridiculous," Declan replied.

Noticing her irregular breathing, Lucas placed his left hand on her forehead.

"You have a fever. Good heavens, have you been running like this? My goodness."

Declan, who was about to leave the room, stopped and looked back, focusing on Hammya’s pale face.

"You shouldn’t strain your body," Erika said.

Hammya steadied herself, stood up straight, and looked around at everyone, who watched her with curiosity. With determination and no hint of fear, she declared:

"I have something to tell you about… Candado."

Everyone looked concerned at her words and the way she said them. Hammya's eyes were unsettling.