Even Levia felt simply shocked. Levia, the one who could smile elegantly even in front of her bitter enemies who would use any and all means to kick her off the throne, was utterly befuddled. She was speechless once they read out the new message to her, and that was despite her having already read the extremely confused and disturbed minds of Salom and the rest while they had deciphered it. Even that hadn’t prepared her enough for this.
“…Is this some sort of joke, Lord Saburn?” she asked in monotone after a short, heavy silence.
“I wish it was, Your Majesty.”
Levia frowned then turned her head upwards, as if something to help her would be written on the room’s dreary ceiling. At length she sighed. “What a shock.”
“They’re insane,” pointed Stard.
“Perhaps so… but we might need to consider this.”
“Your Majesty?” this time Stard was the one in shock.
“Do not misunderstand me—of course I am not going to agree to the conditions stated as they are,” she explained, waving her hand. “However, there is something important to keep in mind in any negotiation… what, exactly, do we stand to lose if we surrender everything that they asked us to?”
“Way too much… Your Majesty,” said Salom.
“I shall go over it in detail and perhaps you will understand,” said Levia while lightly shaking her head. “The first condition is the simplest one. Since we’re both fighting against the same enemy, then perhaps sharing information isn’t so bad; most of it they could find out on their own even without us.”
“But there could be sensitive information, there, too,” said Stard.
“Yes, now you understand what I am talking about. We cannot simply reveal information willy-nilly—we will have to carefully consider what we share with them, and they know it. Moving on for now, though. The second condition is working on methods of communication and transportation. Both we intended on doing anyhow, and they’re not asking for any sharing this time… I wonder why.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Salom, “they thought it would soften the blow of the other clauses, Your Majesty. Then again, notice them stressing that we have to do all this… meaning, they’re not expecting to do any work of their own?”
“I’ll gladly work on it, but that’s quite impertinent of them,” grumbled Mallew, then hurriedly added, “Your Majesty.”
Levia regained her usual composure and wore a wide smile. “Yes, so as I said, that condition is inconsequential. The next, however, is quite tricky; they’re asking for materials and they actually don’t fully state what they’re after… this is a condition that, if we agree to it verbatim, would mean they can request whatever they please at that moment. No sane person would overlook that, including them. That is another one we mustn’t agree to.”
“But the final one, Your Majesty, is the most preposterous of all.”
“Half the kingdom, was it?” said Levia, placing a finger on her chin. “I do wonder what they mean by this. Is it authority, land, or both? Something else? They want information, resources, and even land… these insolent fairies are rather greedy indeed.”
“Not to mention this is the one they labeled as non-negotiable… They really are out of their minds, Your Majesty,” said Salom.
“True, on the surface it sounds that way. But is it really so? If they realize how utterly ridiculous each and every condition of theirs is, and yet they still present them to us before hearing our conditions, they’re probably playing some sort of dangerous game. Right now, they have a resource that we want and cannot get without their cooperation. But are the lives of four children worth more than all those materials, half the kingdom, et cetera et cetera?”
“No,” admitted Salom. It was definitely a pleasant surprise and a genuine shock for him to hear his students were actually alive (and presumably well), but the conditions were clearly, right now, too steep to even consider.
Levia knew it hurt him, but also knew that Salom was no stranger to painful choices. Still, despite the fairies’ insistence, perhaps it was still salvageable. The negotiations have only just begun.
“Like I thought, they dangle hostages in front of us to make crazy demands. If so, we have no choice but to even the playing field… if only we had a fairy or two,” said the Queen, smirking.
“Your Majesty, may I speak?” Mallew raised her slightly shaking hand as if she was in the classroom. This made Stard slowly shake his head but he said nothing.
Levia nodded. “Go ahead.”
Mallew nodded back, taking a deep breath and then clearing her throat. “If several of our citizens somehow managed to arrive at Fairland, it stands to reason that perhaps the opposite also happened… does it not, Your Majesty?”
“It does,” Levia agreed. “Has something of the sort happened?” she turned her head to Stard.
“I, at least, have received no such reports, Your Majesty… though I will try and be on the lookout for such information, now that we know its significance,” he answered solemnly.
“Good idea, but don’t count on it. We’ll just have to discuss the terms with them,” said Salom.
“True. I shall have to ponder this for a while, but for now I will devise a small response… Hmm, how shall I word it…?”
“Actually, Your Majesty,” Salom interjected, “you can no longer do that, right now. We have lost the window already.”
“…Meaning?”
“It has grown too dark, Your Majesty,” said Salom with an apologetic smile. “We can no longer operate the Heavenly Board with our current method.”
“I see,” the Queen said emotionlessly, then sighed. “How annoying, dealing with them at such a tight window—even if it gives me more time to think. Well then, I shall have to hope that Miss Mordack here upgrades the system soon.” She gave the young woman a knowing smile.
“Y-yes, Your Majesty! I will do my best!” she answered excitedly. The plan was to convert the Heavenly Board to be just like the small communication device that Mallew had helped create, though that would take some time. And the fairies’ cooperation, as well.
“Well then,” said the Queen, rising from her seat. Stard stayed standing (or rather balancing on his prosthetics) but he turned to go to the door, realizing her intentions. “Great work, all of you. Let us meet here tomorrow again.” She showed the team a beautiful smile.
“What have you asked of them?”
It had been several minutes with seemingly nothing happening; the two bulbs on the mysterious dais were completely motionless. Time merely passed and soon went past the deadline—where they could no longer receive any messages from the other world. And so, Aisbroom went back to the group of faeries, intending to order the guards to send them back.
However, when Aisbroom approached, that question was thrust at them. It came from Roah, a fact that surprised even his friends.
“…Do you expect to receive an answer?” Aisbroom asked back after a short delay, their eyes set to a fierce gaze directed exclusively at the boy’s single eye, no less fierce.
“You’re discussing our future here. If we’re the cards you plan on dealing… wouldn’t it be fair to know, at least, what’s at stake here?”
“I don’t think you should argue this—” argued Gen in a whisper from behind. Yet both Aisbroom and Roah ignored him.
“I am unsure what cards are,” said Aisbroom, “but you think you have the right to know just because we are using you for negotiation? Ridiculous. Stop with this nonsense.” Or I’ll make you stop it myself, their expression seemed to say. They had the kind of gaze that seemed to dare him to do it anyway.
“I could understand some of it, you know,” retorted Roah. “Not enough to really get what you were saying, but there were—” he stopped in the middle due to the set of actions that took place then.
Aisbroom suddenly paced ahead, reaching out with their arm—only to be met with someone else who suddenly moved to the front as if to shield Roah.
“T-TriX!” Seele shrieked from behind. The blocky laborer stood between the confused Roah and Aisbroom, towering over both of them. “I-I’m so sorry,” Seele hurriedly said. “I, I must have forgotten to—”
“…No, that is fine,” Aisbroom interjected. They took a step back. “It is good that the faeries are well-defended. Now, please take them back.” Aisbroom turned away, not responding even when Roah audibly clicked his tongue.
Without any time to argue, all of them were once again blindfolded and taken outside.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Seele. Aisbroom, who wasn’t watching, wondered who that was directed to, but turned around only after they heard them all leave.
Have I gone too far? They wondered, clenching their teeth. What am I even doing…?
“What were you even doing?” asked Gen indignantly.
As expected, he came down on Roah pretty much as soon as their blindfolds were removed when they finally reached their usual lodgings.
“Wasn’t he trying to help us?” said Shaya from the side.
“Yeah, right, he probably had some ulterior motive—”
“I was just making—”
The two boys stopped as they heard Niu’s loud steps growing further. Had she already grown tired of these sorts of arguments between them? “N-Niu, wait…!” Shaya called out weakly, but that didn’t make the other girl stop. Shaya bit her lips and a moment later, there was a loud thud as Niu slammed her room’s door behind her.
Roah sighed. “We’re all a mess lately.”
“As if you’re one to—okay, I guess we are,” Gen reluctantly admitted, crossing his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” added Seele. “I wish I knew what I can do for you. I thought t-that at least Aisbroom would treat you fairly, but… no, but I guess that’s the fault of… no, but…”
“Don’t blame yourself!” pleaded Shaya, “you’re the one least responsible for this situation, honestly. You know this. You’ve been nothing but kind and helpful.”
“I hope so,” Seele replied with a weak smile. They looked toward the corridor, as if still thinking about Niu.
“Yeah, it’s mostly Roah’s fault,” said Gen, his smile exposing that he was mostly just trying to annoy the other boy. So, as typical for him, Roah completely ignored him. He usually only answered to real provocations.
“More importantly, I have a question.” Roah spoke to Seele, who turned back to him. “What was that with TriX earlier? I doubt Aisbroom was really going to do anything to me, but TriX’s actions there…”
“Oh, that,” mumbled Seele. “Well, he’s been, uh, told to behave that way.”
“Is this really the time to discuss this?” Gen interrupted.
Roah didn’t even look at Gen as he answered. “Is there anything else to do? Niu clearly wants to be alone right now and I don’t see any of us solving anything currently. So I’d rather ask about this before I forget.”
Gen said nothing.
“So, what did you mean by that?” Roah returned to the matter at hand.
“Currently, your safety is my highest priority code,” TriX explained itself.
“Code?” Roah raised an eyebrow.
“Ah… that’s a bit difficult to explain, but I can set TriX’s… priority? Is that the word like you said? We call that a code. I did that when we left our base, and kinda forgot about it,” Seele explained, wearing an embarrassed smile.
“So is that like preparing TriX for different roles?” asked Gen.
“What can you order it to do?” added Roah.
“Something like that. I can tell TriX to priority your safety, or I can tell him to priority attacking the enemy instead… or even just run away. Well, I can put pretty much any code, but I have to keep track of everything and it’s a bit hard.” Seele giggled. “Of course, TriX’s the one who decides how to act out on that code.”
“Are you the only one who can control it?” Shaya joined the conversation. She glanced at the apathetic-looking laborer.
“Well, I… what’s the word… never mind, the answer is yes and no. We were assigned as partners so I know the code, but anyone could use it.”
“And what's that code, exactly?” Roah asked.
“I-I can't tell you that!” answered Seele, flustered. “It’s, well, secret.”
“Then I hope you...” started Roah, but then closed his mouth, furrowing his brows as he looked at TriX’s imposing and silent form.
“Yes?”
Roah shook his head. “No, just don’t tell anyone that code. It could be dangerous.”
“I know that, silly!” Seele said with a smile.
“Is TriX… fine with all that?” Shaya asked suddenly. “I mean,” she said when several questioning looks were aimed at her, “with being, um, controlled… like that.”
“I am not sure what, you are trying to say,” said TriX.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Leave it, Shaya. TriX’s been made that way. Don’t think of it like a normal living creature.”
“That’s not true! TriX can speak and think… what’s the difference from us?”
“Thank you, Shaya.” The one who said this was, surprisingly, Seele. “It’s true, TriX might not be exactly like us, but he’s… similar enough. I said we’re partners, right? I can’t speak for everyone… but I believe many treat our partners good, so you don’t have to worry.”
“But what do you think?” Shaya asked again, looking directly upward at the laborer.
TriX slightly craned its head. It was a rather human-like gesture, but was it really the same? “I think of nothing, in particular. This is how I live. I have certain likes, and dislikes, but I work to help, my people."
“See? TriX is fine with that,” said Gen.
“Well… if that’s what TriX says, I’ll accept it, then,” Shaya concluded, puckering her lips.
“Now, Shaya—I need to discuss something with you, so can you come with me?” Gen asked suddenly.
“W-what?” she retorted in surprise and confusion. “Umm, sure.” Within seconds the two of them were gone, leaving behind only the boy, the fairy and the laborer.
“Good night to you,” Roah greeted softly and went on his way. He had some thinking to do as well.
“Well, that was over quickly. Good night,” Seele greeted back.
Niu was slowly sinking into the darkness.
She could clearly feel it. It was as if her body, mind and soul were all submerged in a deep, pitch-black swamp. She could freely walk and breathe inside, yet at the same time she was shackled and choked, living in a contradiction.
She had felt the same after Gen’s incident. If she could scream, she would have probably screamed until her throat bled. But instead, all she could do was bear it on the inside, just like always. During that awful time, she couldn't even look at his face without wanting to cry.
Yet that, too, came to pass. If nothing else, Niu was adaptable. There were limits, however, and being sent to an alien land was probably one of them. Just like when she lived with her parents without interacting without anyone else. Before she’d been invited to school. Before she met Gen and the others… yes, her friends were with her, but that wasn’t good enough.
There was Gen, much too sturdy for his young years. Niu aspired to be like him.
There was Shaya, kind yet frail, smart yet also ignorant. She suffered enough, but also unknowingly made Niu suffer.
And there was Roah, whom she never managed to fully understand.
She thought of all of them as her friends, and was almost sure they thought the same, but what if she was wrong?
A voiceless scream reverberated in her mind again. Perhaps she could send it to them, using her newfound powers—but she was scared of that, too. If Niu’s condition had any advantages at all, it was that she could compose herself and think properly before expressing herself since she could only do it by writing.
Otherwise, she would simply shout and cry.
If she could really send her thoughts to people, wouldn’t that only serve to expose her ugly, true self?
It was a foolish worry, but at that moment she couldn’t shake it off. She felt so useless that even the possibility of something good reversed itself in her mind.
This was probably going to be a long, hard night.
A couple of days passed. There were still no signs of any new waves approaching, though Niu couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time. The negotiations between the worlds supposedly continue, but they weren’t taken again to any of them, and weren’t updated about the details.
Therefore, when they were invited to the palace to see the Ruler once again, Niu thought that some agreement had been reached.
As usual, Acrus began with some grand-sounding speech and then waited for Seele to translate it. Apparently, they talked very vaguely about the waves and the negotiations alike.
The four of them exchanged glances; it didn’t seem like Acrus was planning to share any concrete details. Also, it was clear that there was still no news of another wave. But if both these reasons were excluded, then why had Acrus called them there?
Acrus continued talking with a radiant smile.
Even without understanding Acrus’s words, it was obvious that what they said was extremely surprising, judging from the atmosphere and a few hushed voices from the audience, as well as Acrus’s peculiar expression. It wasn’t the first time that the Ruler employed these theatrics. After a while they spoke again and raised their hands to general applause.
“The Ruler is apparently…” Seele explained after a small gesture from Acrus, “what’s the word for going to have a child?”
“Expecting? Pregnant?” Shaya asked. So that was the cause for the surprise earlier, then.
While fairies didn’t have genders, strictly speaking Niu usually did think of those fairies she knew as having one gender or the other. Based on Acrus’s demeanor and atmosphere, she mostly viewed them as “masculine”, so hearing that Acrus was pregnant was quite odd, even if she knew all fairies could do so.
“Thinking about it, we really don’t know too much about your reproduction system yet,” said Roah, probably wondering aloud more than to be heard.
“Pervert,” said Gen.
Usually, Niu would have probably at least giggled at this point, but she felt so subdued that it took her several seconds to even register Gen’s comment. She thought she noticed Gen eyeing her as he said that, but averted her gaze.
“Silence!” Acrus called from the throne, apparently having judged the clamor about the new revelation to have gone for long enough. That, at least, was a word that Niu had already learned to recognize. She picked up a few other words here and there as Acrus continued speaking, but once again couldn’t understand what sent another wave of surprise through the audience.
“A Grand Feast?” mumbled Seele, their eyes wide.
“A feast, you say?” asked Roah.
“It is a kind of a traditional… party. Meant to, ah, celebrate a great event.”
“A party? What for?” said Gen.
“The baby?” suggested Shaya.
“That, too. But I think the Ruler is trying to make everyone calm in face of this war. Though usually, this kind of party would better serve after victory…” Seele explained.
A baby? A party? Who cares, Niu thought bitterly. Currently all she wanted to do was go back home. She certainly was in no mood to party. If only she could go back to Plainland—no, go back to school, everything would go back to how it was.
Unfortunately, things were constantly changing. And she knew that even if some miracle occurred and allowed them to go back, it would never be the same.
She hated it so, so much.
Levia had a rare moment to herself, but that didn’t mean she could simply lounge around; she had plenty to think hard about.
Simply put, the negotiations were not going well. Due to technological limitations, they were only able to converse very slowly with the other party. It would be quite a while before they managed to establish true long-range communications, especially since even the prototype they had already developed had its issues.
Even without all that, the fairies were obviously determined to squeeze out as much value out of Plainland as possible. They were asking for vast, nearly impossible amounts of resources and information and barely agreed to budge over that.
Levia couldn’t really feel what was known as anger, but if one thing truly upset her, it was not being able to directly face the other party. Her compensation allowed her to ascertain the true intentions of anyone in front of her, smoothly cutting deals and gaining advantage. But since the negotiations from Fairland came in the form of a faceless correspondence, there wasn’t much she could do.
Were they really expecting to get this much from them? What were they planning to do with the citizens in their hands? Why have they suddenly reopened contact after all these years? What was their current condition in face of the incoming crisis?
Levia didn’t like not knowing the answer to any of these questions.
It also didn’t help that they were dealing with a completely alien culture, which might values completely different to theirs; that was something rather hard to determine from the short messages they have exchanged thus far, and past records didn’t help much, either.
There was also the problem that the longer these negotiations took, the more likely it became that information about it would leak outside. Outside meaning mostly the nobles, of course. She’d planned on revealing everything to Lord Qumisson and the rest only after the details had been decided; otherwise, things might turn very ugly.
Fortunately, she’d chosen only trustworthy people to have anything to do with the project and kept a close eye (or mind, rather) on them, so there was no real fear of spies for now. It was certainly not perfect and there were countless ways for the information to leak or otherwise reach Lord Qumisson, but it would hold for a while.
All this hassle for a few children… even if they are Saburn’s disciples.
The fairies couldn’t have possibly faked their identities, so it had to be them—but wasn’t it too much of a coincidence? Well, destiny worked in strange ways, sometimes. Levia knew that even firsthand.
Out of personal curiosity, Levia had once requested Saburn to compile reports about who he thought were his most promising students. This whole plan was meant for raising people fit to serve important offices in service of the country, up to and including the military or even the royal court. Levia thought it was a foolish endeavor, but also knew that there could be some benefits gleaned from it.
Saburn had thus sent her the profiles of about ten or so children from his school. Of those, only three he noted as having real potential, due to their channeling abilities—or, rather, due to them being so-called defects.
There was Genro, the youngest son of a merchant family who’d lost his arm in a horrible incident. There was Roah, a cunning orphan that Saburn had only found by chance.
And there was Niu—seemingly a normal village girl, if not for her inability to speak. Yet, according to Saburn, she had the most potential of all of them. What was it that he said? That he felt like she could be a queen? How laughable.
Even so, since the fairies had them in their possession, then they surely knew about their abilities and skills. It was possible that they discovered something that even Saburn didn’t know, or else wanted to use them for their own purposes… no, but then they wouldn’t negotiate at all. Even after all that, Levia still had no idea what those fairies were thinking.
What a headache, she thought. If only all of this didn’t happen so early.
“…Do we really still need to do this?”
Once again, student and master met inside the giant, hollow stump of a tree. Aisbroom stood not far from Gen, who already assumed a defensive position. Aisbroom’s cold eyes focused on the empty area beneath Gen’s right shoulder.
“But of course. How can we get you even stronger if we don’t keep up your training?”
“No, but I mean… maybe we’ll go back home soon,” said Gen.
Aisbroom snorted derisively. “You know perfectly well it isn’t going to be ‘soon’. We still have plenty of time. Probably plenty of waves, too.”
“Yeah, how things are going, actually?”
Aisbroom smiled. “Nice try. Your prodding about the negotiations just now, as well. We’re not here to discuss information I’m not at liberty to give; but to temper your body and your techniques.”
Gen clicked his tongue. It was worth a try. He wondered for a second if Roah could have said something to make Aisbroom spill the beans—and was angry at himself for even thinking of relying on him—but recalled their last interaction. Whatever cunning Roah had, it didn’t really work on Aisbroom, so he shouldn’t feel inferior to him.
“Sure, it’s just that… I feel distracted, as of late.”
“You still feel guilty for killing your enemies,” pointed Aisbroom. This caused Gen to freeze and stare at them. “It is obvious. You do not have to worry; every soldier experiences this.”
Gen knew that. He knew that, but… that alone couldn’t help his feelings, so he didn’t want to confront them at all. He gritted his teeth and felt himself starting to shake.
“Become stronger,” Aisbroom said, ignoring the boy’s reaction. “Become strong enough so that you can hold your head high and know you’re doing the right thing. Cowardice does not fit you.”
Gen raised his head. He saw Aisbroom wearing a smile that was both like and unlike their normal one. Was that their way of trying to cheer him up? Even so, Gen didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Never mind that for now,” he mumbled. “There are things more important for me to do, right now…”
“Like helping that girl out of his depression?”
Gen was too surprised to even notice the grammatical error there. “How’d you even… no, you’re not going to answer this, but surely you have spies.”
“Oh, that’s not much of a secret… it’s only logical, right? It’s for your sakes, as well,” explained Aisbroom. “If it makes you feel any better about it, Seele isn’t one of them.” That was his first thought, but Seele had always been so kind to them and seemed to truly sympathize with them. Of course, he shouldn’t necessarily trust Aisbroom’s word on it, either. “Well, wouldn’t the incoming Feast provide enough of an opportunity for you?”
Gen also thought about that during his planning sessions with Shaya. But they haven’t concocted any concrete plan just yet.
“Anyway,” Aisbroom said, “get ready. Try doing what we’ve discussed.”
“…Whatever.”
As long as they were there, perhaps it would be a good idea to keep training under Aisbroom. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure what the fairy general was trying to accomplish with that.
Aisbroom lunged forward, flashing their sword. Gen had seen them fighting with a sword even during the wave, but seeing that they mostly relied on their various channeling flowers, he was still somewhat surprised by Aisbroom’s skills. Their movements flowed well and the sword in their hand appeared less of an instrument and more like an extension of their body, much like their vine whip.
Gen made no attempts to evade, or to parry; the exercise, this time, was of a different kind. There was a very faint shimmer in the air and the sword clanged against something hard. Gen grunted, more out of exertion than out of pain, taking a step back. His invisible appendage, having assumed a flat shape for an instant, now vanished.
Aisbroom didn’t slow down. As they swung again, Gen hurriedly tried materializing the shield yet again but was too late, the sword passing in vain through air. The reflexive step back also caused Gen to fall on his hind. Aisbroom looked down at him.
“Catch your breath, get up and try again.”
“…It’s hard, you know,” Gen replied. Ever since he’d first discovered that power, he almost exclusively used it in place of his lost arm. That became second nature to him. He hadn’t even thought about trying anything else until instructed so by Aisbroom.
“Yes, living is hard,” said Aisbroom. Their tone made it hard to understand whether they meant it as a joke or not. “But we all have to keep going.” Aisbroom raised the sword again and thrusted at Gen.
This time, he felt real danger; Aisbroom didn’t even give him enough time to stand up yet, so he hurriedly projected another shield that stopped the blade.
“Are you trying to actually kill me?” said Gen, panting with his eyes wide.
“I would have stopped just before hitting,” Aisbroom coldly replied, then readied his sword again. Gen clicked his tongue and put his hand to the ground in order to rise and continue the battle.
Even after staying for quite a while at Fairland already, Niu learned new things every single day. That was to be expected of such a different place. Foods, clothes, social etiquette, the language itself and many more things became apparent to her as time went on, but there was plenty left to learn.
However, she thought that everything truly shocking was already out of the way. Discovering that fairies (and laborers) were the only living beings in the entire world and that they had no gender was quite earth-shattering enough.
In a sense, it could be said that Niu and her friends lowered their guard. So when that morning, Seele came along for breakfast, as chipper as ever, none of them ever suspected a thing.
Since Seele lived in the same quarters, they would often come to dine along with them when time allowed. Seele would gladly explain about the foods or culture or simply have small talk with them, which tended to be mostly with Roah or Gen, especially during the last few days.
Today, however, Seele also came to convey some news. They began speaking as everyone was eating their salads from an assortment of vegetables, most of them quite similar to those found on Plainland.
“Looks like we’re getting you, uh, how do I call it… clothes for the party, later today,” Seele started.
“Formal wear, then,” mumbled Gen after swallowing, “or dress clothes. Oh man. I went to some parties before and I can’t stand those kinds of clothes, though…”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure you can pick something light and easy.”
“Will we get dresses?” asked Shaya, her voice tinged with excitement. They had seen some fairies wearing similar clothing, but most wore plain, unisex (in Plainland standards, at least) garments.
“Of course, if you want to!” replied Seele with a wide smile.
“Right, it’s just like the year’s end festival we’ve missed,” Gen suddenly said, swallowing his salad again. “Well, maybe having just a little bit of fun won’t be too bad… right Niu?”
With her face directed at her plate, Niu jerked up at the mention of her name, glancing at Gen. After a short delay she nodded weakly.
“Do we really have to go through that?” wondered Roah aloud.
“I’ll beat you up if you don’t come with us,” threatened Gen.
“Oh, no. I guess I have no choice, then,” Roah replied in an exaggerated, sarcastic manner.
Seele giggled, perhaps in attempt to ease the tension and stop Gen from replying. “Roah, don’t be like that. Well, I’m pretty sure you must come, yes. You see, you’re also acting as emba—ambassadors. Kinda. I’m sure people from other clans will also want to see you.”
“Other clans?” asked Roah.
“Ah, yes. We have some of their ambassadors here anyway, so the Ruler gave some invitations to them, as well. The Stroba are our enemies, but we do have some allies. There’s the Makin from the northern plains, there’s the…” Seele stopped. “Oh, sorry, I won’t bore you right now.”
“It’s not boring… in fact, it’s something I have neglected to study about this place,” said Roah, his expression severe.
“Our goal’s getting out of here, you know,” said Gen.
“Which is why we need to understand the local politics. But let’s not have this conversation again.”
“I’ll explain to you later if you want, fine?” Seele asked Roah, who nodded in response. “Anyway, if you’re all done eating… I have a surprise for all of you.” They all looked curiously at Seele, hearing that.
“Even more surprises?” asked Shaya.
“Make some room here,” said Seele, “and bring you know what, TriX!”
Moments later TriX entered through the door, carrying a large tray in its hands. It contained what appeared to be a puffy, circular pastry, covered in frosting. It looked exactly like a…
“Cake?” said Gen, surprised.
“Hmm, but they don’t have eggs here,” Roah analyzed.
“This is sweet fungus bread,” TriX said. The name made it sound somewhat disgusting, but it both looked and smelled good—true to its description, it emitted a sweet fragrance.
“You haven’t had one of these before, right?” asked Seele with a wide smile. Once TriX put the tray on the table, they started cutting it to pieces together.
“I don’t think so,” said Gen, watching them. “But to what occasion do we owe this for? This isn’t your Grand Feast yet.”
“Like I thought you don’t know, huh?” said Seele mischievously. “Well, I guess you lost track of time, it’s understandable… but I remember. Or at least, TriX remembered when I asked him.”
“Keeping time is simple, with how my mind is built.”
Seele continued before anyone could ask them what they meant. “Happy occasion! It’s been exactly half a year since you arrived here!”
There was a short silence and four very confused faces looking at Seele. Surely it hadn’t been that long, right? Did the time in Fairland flow differently? No, it was probably something much more basic than that.
“Now, when you say half a year,” Roah asked, being the first one to recover, “how many days is a year, exactly?”
“Oh? A year is 40 days, of course!”
The future etched in coldest ice:
With every error comes a price