You can represent many things — every things — on a graph. The position of a ball, the velocity of an airplane, the number of employees vs. the number of toilets in the building. If you think about it, don’t we all live our modern life in graphs? We truly live in Math's world, and If I was in a graph, I would like to live in the second quadrant. I’m not sure, but it feels like a good place to live in.
* Elem’s favourite coworker, Kveton Sims
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When she opened the door, Sivrit did not expect to find Reginn. It was a strange feeling seeing him again after the last line they left off of, but the hero acted nonchalantly as if nothing had happened. Perhaps to the divine, the acts of commoners were but naught. It was difficult to tell.
“...How can I help you, Reginn?”
“I’ve come to talk. Perhaps we can come to an agreement after all.”
It was the first time the hero entered the building from its proper entrance and as the maw of the colossal beast, the halls were the most decorated, and paintings ran amok on the walls. Portraits of the Caines — rare in this digital age — were scattered and close between. The mansion was full of warm colours, antique in the modern sense. Golden lights radiated through the area but did not shine offensively. Of course, to Reginn, they were all the same. A doghouse, no matter how fancy, was still a doghouse.
“In this world, I am its sculptor. Mana bow to my will and the creatures heed my natural order. However, in this foreign landscape, it seems that there are many things unknown to me.”
“...So do you want me to catch you up, or…”
The two rested on separate couches, perpendicular.
“...You could say that I’m a bit curious about humans.”
So far, Reginn made do with the limited knowledge he had of human societies. He never bothered to remember names, and the hero remembered how much he regretted that so. Only if he could turn back time, and learn Caretaker’s true name.
However, there was no need to repeat the same mistake again.
He could see in Sivrit’s eye, a mix of carefulness, and fear, but also concern and sympathy. Reginn had almost never spoken his true mind to anyone — not to the Goddess, not to his siblings. To them, he wanted to be seen as an absolute pillar, a mythical being to be relied on. The only time he could recall was speaking to Caretaker, though it was more of an owner venting to their dog than anything, as she could not understand his divine words.
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“...Can I you something, Sivrit?”
“What is it?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
Protector, judge, executioner, destroyer. Though he protected the nation — more than anyone else — the humans did not favour him too much, at least not to his face. Perhaps it was intimidation, fear or a sense of discontentment with his absolute control. If he had decided to leave Alsland — which he only didn’t due to the Goddess and his siblings — the nation would surely have been extinguished.
His brothers and sisters loved him, and the Goddess loved him. That was enough.
However, it seemed that his voracity only grew greater and greater.
“...A little bit,” said Sivrit, “I know you’ll never hurt me or Ayn, but your strength and mentality… Well, it’s a bit scary.”
“...Yeah, I suppose so.”
This was his burden to carry. You never realize how cold it is, until you know what warmth is. Once a monster feels a slight hint of warmth, it may never return to its nest. Moths attracted to a flame, he wasn’t sure how he wanted this story to end.
“But you know,” continued Sivrit, “I can tell you’re a good person — and that you are a person. I know you don’t speak or share much, but you still silently work, and even if I don’t know exactly what you’re doing, I still know you’re a hero.”
“...A hero, huh.”
Hero. The word was but a burden, and he received no love for his sacrifices. No one likes punishments, even if they need them. At the end of civilization’s advancements, when the world is perfect, he will not be needed anymore — and perhaps that is why they dislike him, a terminal reminder of their imperfection — but until then, he would teach the natural order. However, was he accepting of his role as a simple function?
“...Sivrit,” said Reginn, “I want you to convince me why I should spare the demon.”
“But how?”
“...The spell, the information spell. I named it ⌈Sixth Path Retrieval⌋ when I entered your mind and you narrated about your childhood and the Endlegion. We’ll use this as the most effective way to communicate, and you’ll be able to show me everything.”
“...Fine, for the sake of Attila.”
In the end, while punishment was the greatest teacher, there were still many lessons it could not teach.
Perhaps through this lesson, Reginn would finally understand how humans worked.