Chapter 54 — In which friend and foe cannot be confirmed
Not Monachra she knew?
That had many implications.
Saffra decided to specify it first.
“When you say she is not Monachra that you knew, do you mean she had drastically changed, or that she is a completely different person?”
One option could be something similiar to Saffra’s current case, when memories of previous life enter the body.
The second option was something like Golderodis’ case, where there existed two exactly same looking people.
“I’m afraid it’s the second.”
For a moment, a worry crossed Tangeri’s face, which quickly changed to determination.
It seemed that she was predicting that something horrible might have happened to her friend, but she wasn’t going to be beaten down by it.
As she internally praised her spirit, but also made a note to check on her later, Saffra asked:
“Any evidence?”
It wouldn’t be so simple like Monachra just not recognizing her.
“My bun.”
Tangeri pointed at her twisted bun, which after an entire day of running around had a few stray strands of hair standing out.
“Monachra probably never told it to anybody but me, who was somewhat involved, but she hated twisted buns.”
“Was it hate that truly couldn’t be relieved?”
Tangeri hesitated, as she carefully chose her words.
“Monachra had a distasteful encounter with one older lady. That lady loved twisted buns. Afterwards Monachra vowed before the sun that she would never wear a twisted bun.”
Flavun wasn’t religious, and gods were rather frowned upon, but there were some mystical elements to their culture, one of which was swearing upon the sun and light, which was traced back to Saffaron herself.
It was one of the most serious vows one could make in Flavun, akin to swearing on one’s magic or family in Rubrun, or one’s god or soul in Purplus.
If she made such a vow, she would take it with her to the grave.
She would never compliment someone's twisted bun, especially not someone’s, who knew about her vow.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“I understand. It indeed appears that she isn’t Miss ‘Monachra’ that you knew…”
But…
“Her allegiances and goals remain a mystery. She may not be our enemy.”
Saffra remained Tangeri about it with a calm, but firm voice.
She was worried that the girl’s emotion may get better of her and cause her to bite at someone she shouldn’t.
“I understand, My Lady.”
Tangeri nodded seriously, indicating that she wasn’t going to run off anywhere.
“Tomorrow I’ll consult with my sister, Miss Apric and Miss Craya about their view on it, and we’ll try to formulate a strategy about how to deal with it.”
“Understood. Thank you, My Lady.”
“No… It should be me who is thankful. Thank you for telling me, Miss Tangeri.”
Tangeri’s eyes were still dark, but she smiled slightly at Saffra’s thanks.
“Then have a good night, My Lady.”
“Yes.”
After she left…
Saffra laid down, but wasn’t able to fall asleep.
Theories and speculations drowned her mind, not letting her rest.
Then, suddenly…
Knock, knock.
There was a knock at the door.
As she drew closer to the door, without making a sound, her nose picked up a distinctive smell of mountain forest.
She opened the door without hesitation.
“Sir Citrie.”
The knight’s green eyes smiled at her cold welcome.
“Hello, Young Lady Saffra. Can we talk?”
In the middle of the night?
Does this guy have a death wish?
*-*-*
Amara finished the draft of the response to the discourse about whether one particular god was a wife, sister or daughter of one other particular god, with whom she got a confusing and complicated association with.
He stretched, trying to relieve the tension from his back’s muscles.
*Oh, really, how did I get associated with you… what wife, what sister, what daughter???*
*If you didn’t show up on all my parties out of nowhere, it wouldn’t get to that point.*
*So just because you’re having a party on MY LAND, I should get out?*
*If you didn’t make a mistake of stepping into MY LAND, it wouldn’t be a problem in the first place.*
This type of argument accompanied him in the background.
Frankly speaking, even he was mystified by this pair.
And other gods were similar.
*Didn’t they live together for like the last … 300 years?*
*Their believers are long-lived, so maybe that’s why…*
*Is that what they call love-hate relationship?*
*No, no. Didn’t you read what our Am wrote? It’s called ‘a complex bond created on mutual benefits and grudges, turned into reliance on one other, which either side doesn’t want to admit’.*
*… Isn’t that love-hate relationship?*
*No.*
Amara just sighed.
Then he looked down, at the garden below.
He was currently seated on the balcony of the 2nd floor, so he had a quite good view of the garden stretching before the main gates to the temple.
Some people entering through the main gates caught his eye.
Their clothes were quite different from Purplus’ typical clothes, which usually were made from long robes, richly decorated with embroideries, flowers and gems.
Their clothes were assembled from short-sleeved uniforms, pants and sturdy boots.
The only decoration were leaves-like embroideries and the emblem on their chests.
A white great cat with green eyes and black dragon with blue eyes circling the earth symbol.
“Miss Phlox.”
“Yes, Your Excellency?”
“Do you know anything about Gemma Republic’s visit?”
“… I’m afraid I don’t, Your Excellency.”
Phlox was looking at Gemma’s envoy with an equally surprised face.
Amara closely examined their faces.
‘You don’t seem to be here to rope us into a war…’
About 50 years ago, Gemma held hands with Rubrun and attacked Flavun.
From that point on, Luminere’s relationship with Gemma could only be described as very complicated.
But looking at the envoy’s worried faces, it didn’t seem they were here to cause a war.
Amara saw one of the diplomat's eyes suddenly freeze, as they stared into the air.
Following their gaze, Amara saw a vague silhouette of a ghost hovering in the air.
He clicked his tongue and then quietly whistled.
The ghost was immediately pulled into the temple and disappeared from the envoy’s vision.
After confirming that it didn’t cause further unrest, Amara turned to the ghost, who was pulled to his side.
“Be careful and don’t scare the guests.”
Then he let the ghost go, which the being gladly did.
It seemed that the powers that swirled around Amara were quite scary for the poor guy.
When Amara looked towards the garden again, he met the eyes with the envoy’s representative.
They stared at each other for a few seconds.
Then the representative's eyes were filled with determination and the envoy strolled inside the temple.
From that interaction, Amara had a vague feeling…
‘Are you here to see me?’
But he didn’t see or hear anything about Gemma’s envoy for an entire day.
Only in the late evening, Phlox informed him.
“Gemma’s envoy left.”
In the end, he didn’t learn what they came here for.
Or if they got what they wanted.
*~*~*