When evening approached, Zeraki went to learn how to set up a tent from Bitrus. As Bitrus built the first tent to demonstrate how the various parts were assembled to form a stable shelter, Zeraki asked about his background and what Astrohelm had in store for him.
Unlike everyone else, who seemed to have nothing to go back to, Bitrus actually had a family he was leaving behind: a wife who was once part of the Kingdom’s military, a 12-year-old daughter, and a 16-year-old son. He was a blacksmith and craftsman, heading to the city to work on expanding the railway network into the Ocean. This wasn’t a Duchy-commissioned project but the crown’s, one of the rare instances when Blackmore acted like a kingdom.
Bitrus was the only one whose dark lingering ‘scent’ Zeraki could identify. It was a faint Γ Homesick ˩ sentiment. Because no one leaked their sentiments into his brain for him to project, he didn’t think too much about it. However, it did make him wonder if the multiple consciousnesses within him truly had no homes to return to.
After the tent-building exercise came dinner, and finally, Zeraki was free to contemplate whether it was wise to explore the limits of the driver’s influence. Although they were now traveling on well-paved roads, they had ventured into the forest that lined the right side of it to set up camp.
As he weighed the pros and cons, Ola walked over and sat across from him. Her posture was impeccably straight, effortlessly embodying grace and dignity.
“I shall grant you the honor of being friends with me. Do you accept?” she asked, her tone even and sentiments honest.
Zeraki felt tiny amounts of interest leak into his brain from Number 7, even though he did his best to suppress it and act like he wasn’t curious.
[ Number 3: She’s odd… I don’t want Dad to have weirdos for friends. ] Number 3 muttered to herself.
[ Number 7: Father, I know I don’t have to say this, but please, don’t listen to the one with cotton candy for brains. ]
Seeing that Numbers 3 and 7 had nothing meaningful to say, Zeraki looked at Ola and smiled, “I’m the furthest thing from being normal. You won’t get what you are looking for from me.”
Ola smiled and shook her head.
“Do you know the difference between an artist and a person who can draw?” she asked.
“Is there a difference?”
“Of course there is. Just because a person can draw doesn’t make them an artist. For one to be an artist, the first thing they need is a brain that sees the beauty of the world. The world is more vibrant, more colorful, more… ‘artistic’ to them. A person who can draw simply has the motor skills to capture what their eyes see with a modicum of accuracy."
"Okay, I see how that distinguishes the two. But what does this have to do with being friends, Miss Ola?"
"The brain colors the world for our souls. Every brain is unique, each revealing a different world to our inner being. Artistic minds adorn the world with shades of beauty, while mechanical minds render it with functional tones. No two brains are alike, resulting in infinite variations of how the world is perceived. 'Normal' people do not exist; everyone is a deviant. Geniuses, schizophrenics, pedophiles, homosexuals are merely hues that fall outside the conventional spectrum of what is deemed 'normal.'
Dispel this nonsense of ‘normalcy.’ Embrace your title as a Friend of Ola and take pride in it. For it is surely something to be proud of."
Zeraki could feel Number 7’s yearning leaking into his brain. So with a sigh, he projected the sentiment to Ola’s earnestness, feeling his mind flex as a third point formed.
Zeraki felt Number 3’s metaphorical eye twitch as she regarded Number 7 as if seeing him for the first time.
Number 7 remained unapologetic, [ A Friend of Ola is a badge of honor. ]
Zeraki ignored Number 3’s mutterings about the irony of being a thick-skinned ghost and addressed Ola, who was already smiling, “I accept the privilege of being deemed a Friend of Ola.”
“Congratulations,” Ola said as she stood up. “May you find refuge in Midnight’s bosom from those that lurk in the dark.”
‘Remind me to read up on the Midnight faith,’ Zeraki instructed as they watched Ola walk away. He looked into the woods again and couldn’t help but feel that stepping outside the camp boundaries would be a very bad idea.
Morning came and passed. It had been an hour since they started traveling. Zeraki remained by Amali’s side, and she spent most of her time asleep. Number 3 was worried about her, but there was nothing Zeraki could do other than sit there. If he was honest, he was ambivalent about whatever tormented Amali—or any of the people in the carriage, really. Empathy, as Zeraki had come to realize, was nearly nonexistent within him. Seeing children in plantations elicited the same empathy as seeing a leopard chasing down a gazelle’s calf.
Three days were still left until their arrival at Astrohelm. Though plantations were still plentiful, signs of modernized civilization were beginning to show. Billboards didn’t usually catch his attention, but Amali pointed out the various manipulation tactics she could identify on them whenever she was awake. Now Zeraki couldn’t help but see them everywhere.
{{ Unity Bank: Let your money work. }}
{{ Horizon Trust: Come! Save the money you sweat for. }}
{{ You need a fridge! }}
{{ Buy Stocks! You idiots. }}
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
During one of these moments, he noticed the carriage was headed into a compound that could only belong to a church. The carriage went around to the back of the grand building and stopped there. The backyard was paved with cobblestones, and roughly two hundred meters from the back entrance was a chain-link fence. Beyond that lay a cemetery that stretched for a kilometer or so, then the woodlands.
“Don’t wander. I’ll be back in an hour,” a female voice came from outside the carriage. Zeraki looked through the window and saw a cloaked figure heading towards the back entrance.
[ Father, if the driver is female, who told us we were five days from Astrohelm? ] Number 7 commented as Zeraki stepped out of the carriage.
‘…How far from me can you go?’
[ I’ve never left your side before. I’m not sure. Do you want me to follow her? ]
‘Please do. Too many strange things have happened, and we have no explanation for any of it. We better start looking for answers before this list gets too long.’
After Number 7 left, the sound of fast, consistent clacking of heels reached the group. A bronze-skinned woman in a tuxedo approached them with a dark-blue jewelry box inlaid with purple and azure gems. She wore red lipstick and had black braided hair that turned white halfway down her waist. The left side of her head was partially shaved, with smaller braids trailing to the back.
“Hello, everyone. My name is Ray Bones. You may call me Ray.”
She then held the box open, facing the group. Inside were rows of velvet blue badges; the inscriptions were made in bronze metal depicting the side profile of a woman gazing into the sky. Below the woman was a banner with blurry calligraphy.
“Congratulations. You have been deemed valuable assets to the crown of Blackmore. Keep these badges with you at all times.”
Ola looked at the badges for a moment before reaching out to pick one. Just as Ray was about to turn to the rest, Ola’s badge cracked.
Ray raised an eyebrow at this before telling Ola not to worry about it; she’d replace it once everyone had picked one.
Hadiza, Bitrus, and Kito had no problem with theirs. Hami and Amali, though, had theirs crack a few seconds after they touched them. Zeraki’s straight up shattered once he laid his hands on it.
“That’s three replacements. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
She came back with three silver rings that had smaller versions of the badges on them and handed them to Hami, Amali, and Ola. For Zeraki, she handed him leather bracers that weighed quite a bit. They also had bronze badges embedded in the back of the hand section.
Seeing no problem with the artifacts, the woman closed her jewelry box and left before anyone could voice questions. Ola took all this in stride, putting her ring on before returning to the carriage.
Zeraki followed her closely and asked if she knew what those badges were.
“Concealment charms from the Church of Midnight masquerading as badges of great contribution from the crown. Don’t worry, the badge is still legitimate.”
“I see. Thank you, Miss Ola.”
“You’re welcome.”
As Zeraki waited for Number 7’s return, he heard Ola explain to Hadiza that the badge was known as the Brave Heart of Great Contribution and that it would help her access opportunities to join whatever institution she wanted. Nothing was said about it being a concealment charm.
‘External Associate of EIPO through the Midnight Church.’ Zeraki read the engraving on the banner below the bronze woman.
[ Number 3: Dad, I’m seeing ‘Brave Heart of Great Contribution.’ ]
‘…Curioser and curioser. Is there anything else that looks different to you? I see the side profile of a woman stargazing.’
[ Number 3: …I’m seeing a flaming sword surrounded by two black griffons. ]
‘I see… Let’s wait for Number 7 and hear what he’s found out.’
-------
Number 7 drifted through 4-meter-tall double doors. What opened up to him was novel but not unexpected: cushioned benches, purple epic stained glass that gave the interior a nightly vibe, peaceful silence, and burning incense that had a calming effect on the few people within. There was also a side profile image of a woman stargazing. It gave the impression that the woman’s only concern was the stars in the sky and nothing more.
Number 7 drifted through the side walls and got to a room with maroon walls and an altar at the center. On the altar were scented candles, burning incense, the image of the stargazing woman inlaid in the marble, and petals from evening primrose.
A woman, whom Number 7 assumed was the driver, stood there, exhausted, cradling her squirming cloak.
The baritone voice Number 7 remembered from the campfire sounded in the room, coming from the cloak. He wasn’t certain what they were talking about, but from the looks of things, the cloak was negotiating… well, more like pleading with the driver. Sweat trickled down the woman’s face as her lips continued moving, but no sound was being made.
Suddenly, the cloak was gone, and on the altar was a fluffy orange house cat that, for some reason, looked majestic as it stretched its back.
Purring, the cat said, “Midnight sends her greetings, young acolyte, and commands you to cease your prying eyes upon the sacred rites of sacrifice. She has exerted great effort to ensure Her divine essence does not permeate the sanctified veil, shielding your mortal gaze from it. Beware, for to bear the touch of Her divine power is a fate not meant for the likes of you. Heed this warning and stay your curiosity.”
Number 7 immediately knew that the cat was addressing him. The surrealness of it all was daunting. He could tell that the cat couldn’t actually see him, but when it suddenly jumped, he was already halfway through the wall, bolting back to Zeraki’s side. The cat, on the other hand, simply jumped into the waiting arms of the driver.
———
[ Number 3: Dad, I’m sorry on behalf of my pussyanimous, thick-skinned brother. Had he waited five more minutes, we would have learned something meaningful. ]
Number 7’s eye twitched uncontrollably. [ It’s ‘pusillanimous.’ Where are you even getting these words from? And I’m not a coward. I just have a slightly more sensitive fight-or-flight response. ]
[ Number 3: Whatever you say, O ye of no spine. ]
‘At least we found out Midnight is an actual being and harbors no malice. That’s enough for now,’ Zeraki calmly told them as he looked at the bracers on his forearm.
An hour quickly passed, and the driver walked out in her cloak that was supposedly alive. The journey resumed, and there was nothing but residential homes, billboards, and urban smells until nightfall.
Zeraki attempted to find small animals to see if his ability worked on them, but whenever Number 7 drifted past the camp boundary, his bracers came under so much pressure that he did not doubt they would shatter.
[ Number 3: Why don’t you take them off? If Number 7 is quick enough, no one will know you ever took them off. ]
Number 7 looked at Number 3 and wondered whether she was naive or just terribly slow in the cognition department.
‘I can’t do that, Number 3. Do you remember what Miss Ola called them?’
[ Number 3: Concealment charms… ]
‘We are hiding from something, and until we find out what, I won’t take any more unnecessary risks. Number 7 almost died—or worse—earlier today. I’m making slight changes to how we do things from here on out.’
Number 7 faded from sight with a thoughtful expression while Zeraki walked back to his tent. He wanted to be happy that Zeraki cared, but he knew he was incapable of doing so. Zeraki looked at emotions like a machine, and though he did his best to pretend he understood them, they all knew there was no difference between him and a man on stage following a script.
[ Number 3: It’s okay. We’ll figure something out when Number 1 wakes up. ]
[ Number 7: It must be nice seeing the world in such bright colors, dear sister. ]