Gaius’ legs were heavy, restrained by some absurdly soft and warm material. He could feel circular plastic pieces at the ends of his fingertips, and a humiliating sense of utter defeat in his mind.
The latter was the push that got him out of bed. Rolling off the mattress, Gaius ambled off to wash up, and then left the little house. La-Ti was still snoozing away, but given that he was going to experience the trip of his life at night, his master saw it fit to let him sleep a tiny bit longer anyway.
Rubbing his neck, Gaius headed over to the pavilion, where the nearly-complete sculpture of Aldnath was sitting at. The first hints of sunrise were breaking through the horizon, and the boy nodded to himself. Only under real light conditions would the charm of the sculpture he created shine through, and he had confidence that the city would like it.
For Gaius, the sculpture would be proof that he existed, even in a virtual world like Cybral. Appraising it with satisfaction, Gaius began to work on the sculpture’s head. He had gotten the rough shape of it long ago, and even the beginnings of emotion, but it was never the ninety-five percent of work that was the hardest.
No, it was the remaining five percent.
Switching through video after video, image after image, Gaius prowled around the sculpture, his knife making small shaves every few minutes. On occasion, he would rub some place down with his thumb, while polishing some other areas, but anything he did at this point were small changes that added to perfection.
The sun was shining down on everything now with a gentle caress, turning the area around the pavilion into a picturesque landscape of beauty. A few hours had passed by without him noticing much, which, to the boy, spoke volumes to the sheer concentration he had while putting the finishing touches onto his commission.
Gaius had decided to give up on the breathing fire requirement; no matter how he tried to construe it, he literally couldn’t picture the concept of the Eternal Cadence breathing flame. Whether the city administration would like it or not would have no bearing on him and La-Ti, since they were going to vanish by tonight.
Placing his hands around the sculpture, Gaius carried it out of the pavilion and placed it under direct sunlight. Making a few rounds around it, he picked up a piece of cloth and rubbed at any offending, rough areas he spotted under the sun.
“Alright, this looks good enough.” He took a step back, and smiled as the scales of the sculpture seemed to come alive. Light rippled across the scales, and for a moment, the wooden dragon seemed to come alive, despite the fact that it hadn’t moved an inch at all.
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“Looks good,” someone said.
“How did you know I was done, Thel-Da?” Gaius asked.
“Someone spotted you moving the sculpture out into the sun to admire it,” she replied. “I simply took this line of logic to the extreme.”
“I see.” Gaius gestured at the sculpture. “Some work might be needed for it to maintain its current state of liveliness, but it’s simply about protecting the shine. Spraying water will do. As far as possible, don’t use cloth to wipe the sculpture.”
He rubbed his nose. “That should be it.”
“So, about the proposal I brought up to you earlier…”
“I’m afraid that something has cropped up,” Gaius replied. “My apprentice and I will be gone on the morrow.”
“On the what?”
“Tomorrow,” Gaius replied. “It’s been a pleasure working here, with such a supportive environment. I wish you good luck for your future endeavours within the Church of Time.”
“Thank you so much,” she replied.
“I guess you can bring the sculpture out to the city centre now,” Gaius said. “My work is done here.”
“Indeed. I am very satisfied with your quality of work,” she replied. “Depending on how the independent assessors evaluate your work, we’ll send you a bonus accordingly. Do look forward to it.”
“There’ll be no need for that,” Gaius replied. “Rather, I hope that any extra recompense can be funnelled towards charitable initiatives of your own creation. As I am now, energy salts no longer hold much value to me. It would be far better if you were to put them to use by giving the poor and the hungry much needed help.”
“Are you sure? We’re talking around ten thousand or even more energy salts,” she said. “That’s a lot.”
“I’m quite sure,” Gaius replied.
“Very well, then.”
“Thank you.” Gaius nodded at her, before turning to leave. He could feel a burning gaze on his back as he left — clearly, someone was very suspicious about a certain boy’s lack of attachment towards energy salts — but how could he explain that to him, Cybral was a canvas that he could freely leave and enter?
Shaking his head wryly, Gaius picked up his pace and returned to the small house. La-Ti was focusing on a small sculpture at the doorway, his little eyes fixated on carving out the hair of the helper who had been sending food over for the past two days.
Gaius watched the boy carve in silence, and nodded in satisfaction. It would seem that his apprentice wanted to make a token of appreciation to the helper who came along regularly.
The knife continued to whittle away for another ten minutes or so, at which point La-Ti noticed Gaius’ presence.
“For the helper?” Gaius asked.
His apprentice nodded.
“Good,” Gaius replied. “Anyway, I’m done with the sculpture. Have you made adequately prepared for your departure? Anyone you haven’t said goodbye to yet? Understood how Orb works already?”
La-Ti nodded.
“Excellent.” Gaius sidestepped the kid to enter the house, where he promptly found a chair to sit on. Closing his eyes with a yawn, he laid his head down, waiting for night to fall.
The summons of his body in Orb was growing stronger by the second, forcing Gaius to be careful about it. With a simple effort, his mind would return to the surface, leaving behind this ethereal paradise forever.
A single thought was all it took.