“There was a point in my life where things felt like they were at their highest. We became Moons of the Nexus. Survivors of Serum S.”
Ber internally narrated these passages of her memories, flickering through them like a children’s book. Page by page, Ber read out the lines that were etched into these core memories.
“I remember D-13. The Wandering Healer who found us on that moonless night as everything burnt down. And there, like an Angel sent by Deities we never believed in, arrived a woman in black who offered me the hand I so desperately wished to clasp.
But Galia was no Angel. She was a Demon incarnate. A serpent in the body of human. A temptress of the forbidden who dabbled in taboo, whispering like a seductress who incited the fall of our human captors. They took their own lives in the meaning of justice.”
Standing before her was a faceless Galia, her head smeared by a black fog. The only detail Frost could decipher from Ber’s memory was her skin color, which was a shade similar to that of Jury’s. But she could tell that Galia was nothing remotely close to her beloved. The voice which then spoke aloud with an accent and certain inflection that did not originate from this world as far as Frost was concerned.
Rather, it sounded like something from Earth.
Galia had nurtured them since the disaster. The memory was hazy as it was not the primary focus of Ber’s trauma. Rather, it seemed to have something to do with the newly appointed Ber 30 years ago.
“Ateliers will attempt to lure you under their wings with sweet temptations. Scarlet Logic has already initiated a deal with you, as have ImpulseWorks and CogitO. You three would make for a fine addition whenever you so find yourself.”
Galia spoke with a motherly tone.
“But you are like an apple, separated from the other sweetest two. Unripe by a faulted umbilical stem. Neglected by the nurturing tree of knowledge, knowing only so much. A temptation for many. But you are an apple capable of choice. Though where you roll has not been one of your own, has it?”
“Galia had a way with words. They slithered ‘round your throat like a serpent. It had a binding power… Galia promised us our ‘salvation’ in the form of becoming Moons. She saw untapped potential within us and nurtured us until we rose to Moons. But the moment we reached that pinnacle, she left us on our own, favoring Raoul.”
“Welcome to the Nexus. I’ve arranged all I can for your arrival. A suit is fine?” She asked.
“It’s fine.” Ber lied, but had lost the motive to complain or shout, or cry.
“Atelier Items will follow shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable here. No one will dare to touch a Moon, but they will be tempted to reach.” Galia formally warned as the world flipped to a new page.
“It was like she said. Ateliers of all kinds approached us.
Scarlet Logic wanted us to become their Blood Moons. Our hatred made us perfect candidates.
ImpulseWorks offered us the chance to become Eclipses with our combat prowess despite our lackluster experience compared to other Moons.
CogitO offered us to become a Retainer for an unspecified goal.
Caldera Industries.
Chained Theocracy.
Act X… It didn’t matter what Atelier it was. They all approached with an offer.”
* * *
“Oh? Forgive me for saying this, but is it ok if we just take you two? This one seems rather… too timid for our liking.” Said an Insectid Red Giant from the Scarlet Logic, dismissing the silent Ber like an unwanted apple from the batch that were her sisters.
This was not the only time they tried to weave an invitation without her. Ber, who was the black sheep of the trio… the ugliest duckling of the flock.
“Heeey~? Got room for only two. Think ya can work that out?” A Caldera Industries personnel said, rolling her eyes at Ber.
“We don’t need a Moon like you. Sticking closely is asking for a tragedy in your line of work. Now if you two came along, then we’d come with a compromise.” A woman from presumably ImpulseWorks offered. “You’re too dangerous. That heart is too volatile.”
“I’ve been through enough. After a while it all began to stop phasing me. So long as my sisters were with me, then I thought it was ok. Before long, after each refusal and as I grew comfortable in the constraints of our uniform as Moons – We were then called Jesters. It became our namesake for having refused every ‘generous’ opportunity.”
A vision of a Ber hovering her hands by her ears could be seen in the reflection of the marble floor of the Nexus. She never completely closed her ears, reminded of the hands she had once lost. Galia approached her once again in secrecy, carrying a small vial for the troubled Ber.
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“I, against my better judgement, wanted things to remain the way they were. Because in spite of all the belittlement, I enjoyed the company of my sisters. I came to understand their familiar warmth.
But the selfish me was not content with this. Somewhere down the line, I realized that we’d begin to change. I knew that everyone’s eyes were still on Res. I had to protect her. Even after the death of our mother, her curse still lingers onto me. I’m attached to the person who showed me nothing but cruelty. But I loved her unconditionally.
No one was ever going to come close to us, so we sealed off our hearts and put our heads down, working day by day fighting abominations I could not yet fathom.”
“Have you heard of the tale of the girl and the three bears?” Galia began, holding out a vial of purple and gold liquid. “It is a story of preference and perfection. A perpetual stagnation of complacency. A humble tale of cold, warm, and hot but in our countless eyes it is an allegory of ‘the present’.”
* * *
30 years ago, they faced off with the Signing Machine that ruptured the heads of those that listened to its scathing music. Within Sermount Ruins at the furthers edges of Brandar, the triplets had conquered one of their first Corrupted ever at the cost of hundreds of lives.
“This is going to be our life now. We’re always dancing on the edge of a knife’s blade, but if it means staying close to them then I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Corrupted after Corrupted, the Triplets were quick to adapt to their line of work. It was not the type of work neither of them enjoyed, but they all had a reason to continue. So long as they were Moons then they could no longer be subjected to the whims of the world beneath the Nexus outside of the Corrupted.
“It was a weird epiphany for us. For me. I hated it. I hated fighting. But it quickly became all I knew, and before I realized it – I knew I could never go back or go any further from here. When we faced off against that Stuffed Teddy Bear it became clear that we were not as strong as we believed. No… We never really ‘escaped’ from our past.”
Standing before Galia again, Ber gazed upwards at the faceless Beholder with reluctant conviction.
“I wanted things to remain like this. By fighting the Corrupted and staying with my sisters, I could forget it all. But I didn’t want to change. I was afraid of change. I didn’t know what change meant. Because the one time I tried to achieve it we nearly lost everything to that giant Stuffed Teddy Bear.”
“The ‘Goldilocks’ of your life is the present. It is an aversion to the past. Resistance to the future. Embraced by the comfort of the present.” Galia offered Ber a liquid vial, to which she greedily clasped.
“I knew exactly what the Serum was. Serum G. G for Goldilocks. A liquid form of bliss to replace the bitter beverages and the plants we have become immune to. To stave off the past, I resorted to a Serum that would not only stump my growth – but ours. Infused into our Atelier Items was the liquid… and from that day forward, we never ‘grew’. Not an inch physically, or psychologically. It was our greatest comfort.”
The world began to change again. This time, the marble floors were replaced by yet another lake, save that it was deeper than the last. But somehow, Ber found herself standing atop the surface of the lake as the walls opened with 9 archways, each glowing with the insignia of all 9 known Atelier, save for Oboros Infinitas.
Frost’s body returned to her. At 50 meters away, she watched as the Corrupted Ber’s body took on the form of the original Ber, save she adorned a Jester’s hat with exactly nine bells, each in the same color of the Ateliers that had rejected her. Her apparel was a suit mimicking a jester’s outfit, decorated with symbols of question marks that dripped like the words from Jury’s Mantle of Sin and the body of the Listening Bird.
< “I poisoned the well. I poisoned us to hold onto this small fragment of happiness.” >
< “I believed that so long as things didn’t change then everything was fine.” >
< “But what I came to realize was that I was more than just an ugly duckling…” >
< “I was the ugliest of them all!” >
//////// < WARNING > ////////
< MONSOON >
< THE ARBITER’S TRUMPET INSPIRES >
Jester of Speech
Ber
< Accepting this complacent life only entrenched this despair. Could you hear the despair gagged underneath the makeup of my so-called happiness? >
AFFINITY : Despair
LEVEL : 120 ORIGIN : Trauma
HP : 100,000
ATT : 2,500 MAG ATT : 2,500 ATT DEF : 250 MAG DEF : 250
MP : 2,000
RESIST : Nil AGI : 30
< “Serum G removed the need to cut my hair… It was perfect wasn’t it? (I always despised it!)” >
Frost prepared herself. The Jester of Speech was entirely capable of eliminating her if she was not careful. With her fists drawn, and nothing but conviction arising from the depths of her flaming heart, Frost locked eyes with the forcefully-smiling Ber.
Then, like a roulette, the lights of the Ateliers began to illuminate as someone had spun a wheel of fortune. The light froze onto Caldera Industries, and a laugh track could be heard arriving from within its archways, causing Ber to assume a look of anger all the while retaining her forced smile.