"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: December 1st 1083
Location: County of Toron, Victoria
POV: Vincent
“Glad that you finally made it here, Baroness Nyx… or perhaps you would much prefer the newest moniker of yours regaled as the Silver Siren?” I lightly joked with this Pythian woman who had finally returned to my quaint domain. She had caused quite a stir, so it is more or less positive that her time of arrival with minimal scrutiny would be an ordeal.
Her face ever so slightly crumbled down into an annoyed frown. Her control of expression seems to have slipped a fair bit more than what I recalled. Did something had happened so drastically in Kzimierz, with a much more personal touch if I’m being bold, which caused her to be such as she is at the moment?
Perhaps it is for the best if I cease all conspiratorial and or hardly relevant theory crafting when I’m greeting an old friend. It would be unwise to think about something untoward when the person herself has been nothing less than a sweet and helpful lady after all.
“Hah… please stop, having to be stuck with the Grey Serpent is enough, another one only made me cringe in agony… but whatever, glad to meet you again Vincent. You too, Heidi.”
“Your performance was truly Magnificent, Lady Nyx. Perchance you would deign to teach me a sonorous melody? I’m lacking in the manner of relaxation other than dance and poetry after all.”
“That can be arranged, just get a holler with that father of yours and how is he by the way?”
“Papa had been rather… busy, so to speak along with being rather pushy as of late to boot. Well, he did approved my aspiration of becoming a novelist, so there is that. Also I’m now a Catastrophe Messenger too.”
Ah yes, Arkell was a businessmen first and foremost before he is a Catastrophe Messenger… but something happened and he turned his mind with juggling between responsibilities. The fact that he can act so unfettered despite being so restrained alluded something that either of us always been acquainted with…
“So soon?”
“Indeed, that old chap of mine, Arkell, had been really restless, what is with his works and… situations… that has been piling up just a stone throw away, his words not mine.” Without meaning to, I sighed in exasperation and mild annoyance about his hardheaded nature of old that finally resurfaced.
“I have been worrying about his health so far and if he keep working like that, his physique will be endangered the most.”
“Truly, uncle, papa was really stubborn… mama had given him a tongue lashing for it, but he is just too hardheaded…”
“It is rather concerning that my friends rarely told me about their well-being, and to be on the front seat for surprise… hah…”
“Oh, how uncouth of me. Let us head inside, it would be wise to chat over a much more amicable accommodation and atmosphere.”
“Lead the way.”
“Would you wish to partake, Heidi?”
“May I truly? Then I would love to, Uncle.”
With that, I lead these lovely ladies towards the aisle upstairs. Nyx had been a really hot topic amongst the nobility, her singing was something that is truly phenomenal. Not to mention that her song was never recorded to exist, like a song that came from a different dimension entirely.
Victorian nobilities usually look down upon Columbian style of music and its contemporaries, yet her song had become a sort of exception. A fad so to speak, the reasons still eludes them… I have an inkling, but that’s it with no concrete evidence. The only one with the most probable answer will be none other than her, she will attend our little New Year’s Eve celebration.
And it was indeed quite a lovely sonorous melody she sung merely yesteryear ago. It was like there is a different entity sharing the same body, if I were to spice up my wordings and dictions, just a notch more alluring however.
We finally reached the open aisle facing the garden below, several maids are just about to finish preparing snacks and drinks. It is not really well known yet, Nyx fascination with a particular downtown patisserie that is. Of course Nyx would have her tongue craving for more, their pastries and baked products are truly scrumptious since the time of my father and his father before him.
“Please do take a seat, dear ladies.”
“Yea, sure.”
“Very well, uncle.”
After settling on our respective seating, we just spend some time conversing about mundane ordinaries. I must say that Nyx is, truthfully, rather subdued. There is this longing within her eyes, a yearning for something. Sadly, I’m hardly an expert in the matter outside politics, of which this certainly is anything but politics.
The talks now progressed on the topic of young Heidi’s work, this niece of mine had become an aspiring novelist and journalist. A set of occupation that often times entrapped wide-eyed idealist. Sadly, I’m unable to make head or tail regarding which one Heidi truly is. Aside from her more recent employment of course…
“How is your book so far, Heidi?”
“Hmm~ it is going well. But I must say, critics had been very harsh upon my works. Not that I expect less of course.”
“Really? Care to tell me the most memorable one?”
“Yes, what was it… aha, ‘This work of yours is as substantial as evening tea parties.’ That’s one of them…”
“Damn… that’s the most polite or something?” Heidi said nothing and just smiled before continuing on with the topic.
“I’m not at the slightest bothered however, if my works is already sufficient as substitute for talks, then the only way is forward. Isn’t that so, uncle?”
“Indeed, reputable literary world is an unforgiving plane of existence. Works will be judged with rapt strictness, but those who managed would have the world… yet people often forgot why they write in the first place. Were they chasing stars? Or were they chasing themselves?”
“An interesting point of view, uncle. If only father knows that juggling between dealing with natural calamity and manmade calamity is so utterly tiring, perhaps he would be here with us.”
“I mean, your father is both a catastrophe messenger and businessmen while being a good arts caster to boot. So it wouldn’t be weird for him to be so spent.”
“Well, papa is quite willfully forgetful and seems to be more alive as Catastrophe Messenger, and he just does what he did for what its worth.”
‘Jolly, your father was always nagging me a lot during his youth about that talent of his being left underutilized… now look at him.’ I just smiled recalling the time Arkell was still very blithe spirited… good times, good times…
“I see… back to the field of literary works, anything that you can recommend me?”
The conversation was a novel one, a count, a young noblewoman, and a mercenary filled with accolades discussing about literary works. A simple topic yes, but it doesn’t take a statecraft expertise to have a theme worth being engrossed with. Without us noticing, hours had elapsed and Heidi must returned home, else Arkell would be worried.
With Heidi leaving, we can finally conversed and discussed the upcoming event. It is still a month and a half, but there is nothing problematic with lining up our itinerary.
“So you got my doctor?”
“Indeed, the doctor is a Feline cleric from Laterano. She is an expert for surgery, anatomy, and other expertise that will surely suits your need. The person in question had also voice her interest to meet you, but nothing worth be alarmed about.”
“Feline from Laterano? That’s not something you hear every day. Every Lateran I had met were either Sankta or Liberi, to the point that I once questioned whether this nation has some kind of racial policy in place.”
“Well, Sankta and Liberi did made up the majority of their demographical sphere. I can assure you wholeheartedly however, Laterano does not bar Terran from coming into their land.”
“… Hah… minus the Sarkaz?”
“Well, minus the Sarkaz…”
“…”
“…”
“So this Cleric is a special exception of some kind?”
“Verily, she is accomplished in the field of medicine and had also spearheaded further Hippocratic, in nature, breakthrough. Her medical expertise is second to none, so much so that she can commence a surgical operation for 24 hours straight without rest. What’s more is that she has other expertise that might interest you such as economics and politics, just to name a few.”
“… You spoke really highly of this cleric, what is she? Some kind of messiah?” Nyx added mirth and amusement along her utterance. From an outsider perspective, that is not a mistaken projection yet not quite apt either however.
“Well, let’s just say that she will go above and beyond what you expected. A friendly word of advice, do not try to test her. The only one with their dirty laundry and deepest desire turned inside out will be yours and only yours.”
“… Noted. You’re not the type to joke about something this serious. Is the cleric trustworthy?”
“She is very trustworthy. I’ll assure you on my honor that she won’t speak ill upon you and… even my dear teacher, Chaplain Immanuel, your adoptive father, will concede with my reasoning and logic regarding the person you’re about to meet.”
“…” She said nothing but her face harden, her eyes shook, and her grip on the armrest tightened before going lax once more. I’m more than acquainted enough with the Chaplain to decipher his line of thoughts, thus I said what I uttered as a precaution lest she did anything that would put her on a disadvantage and jeopardize herself in the long run.
“I guarantee you that the personage you’ll meet by the snowy month to be an extremely resourceful woman.”
“… Thanks for the warning, so… give me her name.”
“Kal’tsit.”
Date: 31st December 1083
Location: Vincent Manor, County of Toron, Victoria
POV: Narrator
“What a splendid blizzard eve! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, welcome please come in. allow the servants to brush the snow off your tops, and thaw yourselves by the brazier.”
“A good evening to you, Count. Truly a magnificent soiree, this is.”
“Welcome, welcome, Lady Diana. To meet you on the eve of the New Year is my honor entirely.”
“Nonsense. Now take a look, count. I’ve a present for you, all the way from Kazimierz.”
“What a beautiful pendant! My greatest thanks, Lady Diana, and send my well-wishes to your husband. Now, hurry along inside, we can’t have the snow burying your gorgeous looks.”
“Hah! You speak a fine line as ever.”
“Oh-ho, look who’s here! If it isn’t our ‘Baron of Rye!’”
“I could never shoulder a title as hefty as Baron, but here I am anyway, the pure nerve!”
“See what you’re saying! We all respect you from the bottom of our hearts. Who spurns the man who feeds his people well, now? Ha ha ha!”
“Ah, you’re quite right. Once harvest comes next year, I’d be honored if you visit my humble home. The tallest windmills in Toron, the scent of flour everywhere. A stay sure to enchant you, if I do say so myself.”
“Quite good! This blizzard shall pass, and next year will come trotting in right behind it with fine, fine harvest.”
“My gratitude to your kind words.”
Vincent is welcoming a lot of nobles to his mansion. It is a yearly event in Toron, something that has become a tradition too at this point.
“Ah welcome my dear friend! How was your business? Looks to me you added more pounds in you.”
“Hah, truly. Business is flourishing, and coupled with such a calm climate, I’m brimming in pounds!”
“Good one, head along old chap.”
“Good day to you too, Count.”
Vincent keeps on greeting all the guests that would gather upon his yearly gathering. Toron County has some measure of influence upon local nobles, but from the grand scope of things it is lacking anything worth measuring compared to the eye of the storm that is Londinimum.
Of course, Vincent had a hand in that matter, keeping his affair outside central’ notice is no small feat. His affable and modest, by nobility standard, countenance further pushed him away from the complicated mire called Victorian Politics or more aptly put Dukes’ power struggle.
It is not a secret that Victoria is fracturing, and a lot of petty or mediocre nobles stayed clear from the storm as best they can. Thus this gathering is one such method, headed by none other than Count of Toron himself. A lot of people does search for connections, but more importantly they seek safety and stability, Toron is one such place amongst several others.
Not to mention that the rumor of Vincent cordial relation with a certain mercenary added an interesting counterweight… Yet no Major faction tried to strong arm him, more is at play beneath the veil. A statement of power or dumb luck is of no matter, Toron is currently safe and that’s a fact.
While Vincent is greeting all the nobles, his eyes catches on someone who tried to skirt around the line. His eyes focused and to his exasperated helplessness, he catched Heidi trying to sneak in the party. He bid the guest a momentary leave, which they gladly acquiesce.
“E-hem!”
“!?”
“I’ve heard from my most venerable fellow student, that gifted orator, shrewd businessmen, and capable messenger, Arkell Thomson, that he had recently taken ill, and I couldn’t brook the thought of him facing a blizzard for a banquet. Hence my specifically sending for a Messenger, to send him my well-wishes – and yet, imagine my surprise to see – what seems to be a sneaky darling of a messenger right here!”
Vincent pulled Heidi towards him, several nobles chuckled in endearment seeing Heidi is being caught red-handed. Her face burned in embarrassment, but once caught is caught.
"Ah-ha Mistress Heidi, how long since we last met again? It was merely weeks ago, if my memories serves me correctly."
“Uncle Vincent, don’t ruffle up my hair! I had to spend so long making it!”
“Fine, Fine, Little Heidi had grown most excellently. But pray tell, your father never sent word you’d be arriving today. Be candid with your uncle now, have you come on the sly? And you’re still quite young. If your father saw your dress tonight, you’d be in for the nag, wouldn’t you?”
Vincent can only chuckle with her antics. Heidi’s attire is consist of an elegant shawl, a black and red hat, a prim and proper one piece dress with a coat appropriate with concurrent snowy weather and when taking her high heels into account, Heidi looks to be more mature than her actual age.
Heidi has always been a wilful lady, it is just that her independence worried her father. Arkell had been doing his best to ensure that Heidi will not be left wanting, but the young lady decided to forge her own life, with as little support from her family and friends as possible, and it shows.
“Uncle! I’d hate him nagging at me. That’s why I slipped off in the first place!”
“Then I suppose I must tell Madame Eliza about her little darling mischief?”
Heidi face broke into a horrified visage. Eliza is a dear friend of Vincent, and she was almost died once but Arkell’ quick thinking and blitheness made him truly impressionable in her eyes while saving her life to boot… still, the man will mostly likely crumpled like paper when Eliza was angered out of worry, and Heidi understood it through experience. Stray shot or not, matters not.
The two bickered in a good-natured manner. Toron’s nobles, while still quite a sophisticated bunch, is a lot more relaxed with each other. Which is why this situation can be seen in a rather pleasant mood and not usual noble’s vanities. After some more talks, Vincent relented to allow his niece to join the party, but she must promise not to touch any alcoholic beverages.
But before Heidi can enter the mansion, a green, or perhaps lime, haired feline lady in dashing suit entered the premise. Vincent light up in joy and mirthful interest, while Heidi suddenly feels a surge of heat adorning her cheeks.
“My apologies, Sir Vincent. Might I have arrived late?”
“Ah, Cleric Kal’tsit, you’re finally here. Er… your mode of dress…”
Vincent is amused seeing her attire. Instead of the usual dress meant for gala or evening parties, Kal’tsit attend with a sharp attire that ooze gallantry and chivalry.
She wear a set of black tuxedo and white undershirt with a matching black tuxedo trouser and appropriate footwear. Her hair has been combed most meticulously, and coupled with her optimal stature and figure, people might mistook her as a dashing young man with a striking refinement.
Which might not be a problem anyway. Judging by a certain crimson-faced young lady who is teetering on the edge watching such an impressive display and several surrounding attendees also looks on with interest.
“I was deeply honored by your invitation, but with sudden matters to attend to, the monastery could not prepare suitable evening attire for me. They found only this outfit buried in the storeroom, I hope you shan’t mind.”
“Oh quite naturally I shan’t. I’d go so far as to say your attire is utterly… utterly, formidably, gallant.”
“Heidi, you just don’t stand there. Here, this is Cleric Kal’tsit. Give her a greeting, and then hurry inside quickly.”
“…” Finally realizing that Heidi had gone very unresponsive, Vincent nudged her of returning to mortal realm.
“Heidi?”
“Miss Heidi, it’s good to meet you.” Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Heidi had woken up from her fantasy by none other than the formidably gallant lime-haired Feline lady.
“Ah- er- uh-, th- um, I’m, Heidi-”
“I’m quite aware and I must confess that’s an adorable name.”
“-So you’re–Cleric Kal’tsit, is that right? I often hear my uncle mention you.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Cleric Kal’tsit, I imagine you know of Mr. Thomson too? Quite, this is Heidi Thomson before you, that strange fellow’, who also happens to be my old chap, daughter.”
“I see your father is a person worthy of respect.”
“Right then how about you go on ahead first ahead of us, Heidi?”
“Indeed, please go right ahead of us. We have something else to discuss. Worry not I shall attend the party as well.”
“V-Very well!” Heidi, a tad flustered and thrilled, entered the mansion with more pep and joy ingrained within her steps. Seeing that the girl had gone sufficiently far away, Vincent expression turned serious. He motioned Kal’tsit closer and whispered into her ear.
“She is waiting for you at the adjacent annex in the backyard… Are you sure to contact her first and foremost?”
“I am. Let’s just say that, the deeper we dig, only further puzzlement ensues. Anomaly is putting it lightly.”
“That so… Off you go then, I must entertain the guest as per tradition, being a master of the house can be rather stiff on my shoulders these days.”
“I can prescribe you some medication and treatment later on, thus I shall be absent temporarily. Our discussion shall soon follow, Count.”
Location: Garden Annex, Vincent Manor, Victoria.
POV: Narrator.
A few moments before Kal’tsit arrival…
Cascade of gleaming metal shine beneath the artificial light within a room beneath the earth. Nyx is practicing her swordsmanship, courtesy of her lackl- varied combat styles. She had formal training from her previous worlds, but those are meant for humanoid or close to it with no extra appendages attached.
Nyx had a hard time balancing her sword strikes, parries, and even the most basic form of blocking because she keeps forgetting that her tail can be used for counterweight but instead thrashing about nigh-uncontrollably.
Back when she sparred with Silverlances, this differences made her body reflexes confused, she is gripping a two-handed sword yet it ended up being turned into a one-handed style while her other hand is holding another weapon, a gun usually. Nyx hypothesized that since ordinary Terran are stronger, they also had different classification of what can be considered heavy.
Her form had gone better these days, but Terran, or specifically Kazimierzian, style of swordsmanship revolved around making use of their superior physiology to put more power into each swing. It is a mix of two-handed style but due to aforementioned physiology, it can be done with a single hand.
“Well, guess that’s enough for now…” Nyx ended her familiarization and training using the sword Młynar had gifted her about a month ago. She had been making a pretty nice progress, but compared to real swordmasters, she is only as good as a seasoned soldier when handling the sword.
Fastening the sword back on the scabbard, she then placed it on top an empty table. She caressed the sword with a very loving expression but also a sad longing. He can’t spare any time for pursuing anything aside from them after all…
“… I would lie that I didn’t feel envious and… angry… but what can you do, life keeps on moving.” Nyx left the sword there, and starts inspecting her dwelling which is now an armory. It takes her almost 2 weeks to prepare all of these, of which Vincent lent several of his men to help around.
She grab an assault rifle magazine, it is still empty of which she decided to fill it up with originium bullets. It was a really interesting concept really, because instead of a hammer that ignited the powder to propel the bullet, Originium arms instead act like a pseudo-magnetic ejector that instead of converting magnetic force into kinetic, originium gun convert arts into kinetic force to send the bullet to where it may concern.
“… Wait, shouldn’t it be called arts ejector then? …Too bad I don’t have any degree in engineering… my old lives were truly shit, to have little advanced knowledge that doesn’t concern life and death…”
Before her mind can be filled with more grumblings, she look at the corner of her eyes and see that one of the camera is now looking at Vincent talking with… green haired… guy or girl? No matter, they immediately make a beeline towards the garden.
“… Guess that’s my doctor? Kinda weird to see her in a suit, but I’m no better. Well, might as well greet her then, but first…” Nyx equipped her earpiece communicator.
“Vincent, is that the person you told me?”
[Indeed, she is the exact same Feline lady I told you. Quite a surprise no?]
“Ok thanks, just wanna confirm. It would be hella awkward otherwise…”
[No worries, now please excuse me. I have a party to host, also remember the protocol and agreement… you’re not here.]
“Yeah, sorry for interrupting.”
POV: Kal’tsit
I walked amidst the snowy road that lead towards the adjacent annex. Vincent is as fastidious as usual in taking care of his territory, County of Toron is one of several regions in Victoria where infected and non-infected can go along with one another better, slightly below Connor County but a good thing regardless.
The backyard remained unchanged, how long has it since I walked amidst its hibernating flowers and bushes? Concept of time had turned somewhat alien to me, but I suppose that’s just how we are, relic of long forgotten past with an eternal creed.
When the scorching heat of summer emblazoned the land, I was also here to watch and listen as flames of conflict ravaged the land. The sun shone upon the battlefield, the same light that brought upon life and spectated mutely as the earth rend itself asunder.
When the damp and rich with malady temperature herald the coming of Lady Winter. The gloom cold and damp airy wind further dampened the mood of all affected. There was I, not missing a single smog of cruelty and hope turned mental fallacy for all to feel.
When snow swept the land with its cold touch, I was there and bear witness to all its tragedy and horror. How factories churned out weapons of war to fuel the frozen lake with scorching heat of progress as motivation and ideal, but the truth is nothing less than avaricious ambition as its unblemished creed and zeal.
And there I was, when the coming of spring that should have been rejoiced, only end up being dreaded. Men in their utter folly keeps on waging and exacerbating conflict upon the battered and bruised world. I sometime wondered if all is fruitless, but time won’t wait. I know just how cruel time can get.
Which is why, I must meet the woman that has been capturing my interest as of late. The annex is the same as what I had recalled with some addition. Although cleverly hidden to not be seen from afar, I can see that there is a car or a van along with a bike parked near it. The vehicles are both heavily modified based on the silhouette, with the bike seems to be several times being up-armored while the other is more akin to moving fortress.
I finally reached upon the door and it is opened before I even moved my hand. There she stood, an allegedly Pythian in nature, a silvery-ashen haired woman with a face void of emotion, she towered over me just a little. But it takes more than that to fool me, she is extremely nervous… but why? She shouldn’t have ever meet me, but her eyes shone with a slight tension of fear.
How ironic, the unknown is the first one to be unnerved. A truly nostalgic feeling…
“… Took you long enough…”
“I do apologize, the work of Cleric can be mired with unexpected setbacks and hurdles. Yet, that’s what I had bind myself into, an oath upon Hippocratic duty and fealty upon the masses collective well-being.”
“I see, well… come on in.”
“Then, do please excuse me.”
I followed her steps, and briefly inspected every room I had passed… the place had been turned into an armory and stronghold. My eyes can recognize several weaponry and equipment no mercenary should have managed to have, but what is her goal? An intimidation perhaps? No, she hardly wished for a conflict based on how she just walk in front of me uncaringly.
“So… you’re the supposed doctor?”
“A cleric to be exact, but if you much preferred that terminology, then you may call me one.”
“…and that buddy of yours, the very one that is nestled so cozily in your spine? Your nurse or something?”
My steps faltered momentarily, before bemusement sprouted within me. So she can sense Mon3tr? Truly fascinating, while she is not the first person to ever done that, I can feel a novelty in it.
“An old companion of mine, Terra is hardly a peaceful place.”
“What are you? A ‘pharmacist’ with the first letter on vacation?” she found amusement briefly, but there is still lingering caution and curiosity in her voice. She is exactly like what I envisioned when rumors, which were verified to be true, about her fondness of children and teaching came up to my attention.
Nyx was first spotted in Wladirosa and from there her exploit grew extremely skewed pertaining combat but is more than capable to work in a mundane line of work. She was well-known to not mind being treated like a weapon, she goes about it uncaringly as long as she is treated nicely with appropriate remuneration.
My assets had also confirmed that while brutal, she always tried to steer combat away from civilian sector. Still, I’m not fond with her idea to incapacitate hostages, there are better ways to go about it but she seems hellbent on building up her Grey Serpent persona.
She also has several monikers to her name. The Hidden Savior of the Silverlance, the dreaded Grey Menace of Kazimierzian prairies, the drillmaster of Toron clandestine operative group, adopted daughter of the Decimae Executor, Demon in Pythian skin… and the newest of them all, the voice of Silver Siren… An impressive resume. However…
‘Her race is unclear and no matter how many times I made cross-examination and referencing, the closest I get is an Elder Chimeric Sub-race, ludicrous on itself.’
But if that is true then the most applicable theory with sufficient probability is that every piece of her body was grafted into one, wherein the problem of such a thing should have killed her. Combining a pair of gene is plausible, if not pushing it, but more than that and the vessel will burst with infection and internally conflicting nature.
It’s like she is a race that has been borne out of miracle, but astrology and thaumaturgy is both a truly dubious field of research, but there is some truth in it simply because I had seen things throughout the ages. Regardless of how many ideas I hypothesized, by the end of the day, the truth still eludes me… should I ask… them…?
‘No, I must not think of them.’
“An interesting way of putting it, but I must confess there are some truths in your words.”
“That so…” Without her face even facing me, I can sense her inner conflict through her voice.
“If you wish to not continue, then I’ll gladly step outside. This whole conversation will never exist, although…” I trailed off, and she finished my words for me.
“… Hah… there is no more time to spare. So, biting the bullet is all I can do now. We are here.”
The room she led me too is a rather quaint one. There is window by the left side of the wall, a set of firewood storage, a simple fridge along with kitchenette, and a pair of chair facing the window with a table wedged between them. There is a set of teacups and light snacks on the table. She motioned me to sit and I obliged.
“I’m looking for a person with medical background who has time for a lengthy research and comprehension. Tell me, Cleric, what can you tell me about your expertise?”
“I have been acquainted with fields of medical research and comprehension along with its practical application since I was a mere youngling. The state of my expertise can be divided into surgical operation, theoretical analysis and research, and most of importantly general medical expertise.”
I speak about my experience pertaining the topics in mind. Being a doctor is probably the best form of respite I can have while still doing the world some good. My life has been a myriad of absurdities every now and then, and it is also tied to them. Sometimes I wonder where the end line is even at.
My journey all across Terra might be better dubbed as following the current most of the time, but I never let myself be dragged around will-nilly. Terra hasn’t changed much, and instead keeps declining from numerous standpoint.
“How admirable, doctors usually put their specialized field as their primary expertise, yet your tone confidently announced that the basics are all you need.”
“Because that’s the simple truth. You won’t be able to harvest a fruit if your knowledge of harvest, biology, and plantation is limited. You won’t be able to differentiate between a usable stalk and dead leaf correct extraction for example.”
“True, then… in the matters of body anatomy, how would you fare?”
“Hmm… it differs from each race, however I will have little to no difficulty in terms of dissection and analysis. Provided said object for further dissection is compliant with morality standard.”
“Then what if I tell you there is a willing participant who wanted their body be carved up and analyzed?”
“… You’re insinuating a dangerous proposal. What makes you think people will always do exactly what you told them?”
“Simple, when did I talked about people in the first place?”
“It appears that your words can cause severe misunderstanding, care to corroborate further?”
My expression hardened briefly, does she knows about it then? The project was not a mere singular happenstance, which I can admit is very sensitive topic that is best buried. Not every truth needs to be confirmed, but it is human nature to be curious. Robbing them off of it would be the cruelest action ever done to any sentient being.
“Guess I’m getting sidetracked. Then… how about if said subject were to provide you with a piece of themselves, with consent of course. Be it blood or flesh and bones, what do you think?”
“It is a much more preferable alternative. Not only is it more compliant with morality standard, it will also avoid unnecessary level of harm being done upon the subject in question.”
“Your angle so far was that of a scholar, but all the words flowing out of your mouth is that a doctor and nothing else…”
“It would be best if you cease insinuating implicit meanings, Lady Baroness.”
“S’pose so I guess, one last question…”
“And what would it be?”
“… Does a dog bred for war has rights and would it need reasons for seeking happiness?”
“…” That’s… a question I had expected to hear but failed to anticipate on this very moment. If my memory serves well, there were several reports of her being… lost and disgruntled every now and then, with an addition of mental lapses. I will need to perform another deliberation but that can wait.
“Well…?”
“Then let me ask you this question instead. Is it the world that willed us to evolve, or is it us who wished to? Were we given a choice into what and which body we were being born into?”
“… The answer is neither, and for the latter… No, we never.”
“Oh? Care to tell why?”
“We’re all product of circumstances from a set of cause and effect… which more often than not is beyond our control. Nothing sort of a god can have the privilege of total control, or extremely advanced lifeform capable of twisting physics to even have a snowball chance of bending reality.”
“Indeed, which is why your question is fundamentally flawed in the first place. You seek answer for a specific problem from a general angle, keep doing that and your psyche shall suffer.”
“… I hate how true that sounds while being incomprehensible and puzzling because I fudged the context intentionally.”
“Verily, but I must say you’re not too far gone. Anything else you would need? The primary ball and socializing will only start an hour away. Plenty of time for me to continue with perhaps a mental therapy and or counseling, if you so wish of course.”
“No, thank you for your time. When are you available after the party?”
“I will extend my stay for 2 more weeks, thus we have ample amount of time to iron out the details. Then 3 months at most before my schedule will no longer be a negotiable affair.”
Nyx stand up from her seat and present her hand for a handshake. I grabbed her hand while also standing up from where I was seated.
“I’ll be seeing you again, and… glad to be working with you. Hopefully that neither of us did any stupid shit…”
“Likewise. Now, if nothing else is necessary, I shall be attending the party. It won’t do for me to vanish despite clearly be seen by the host and guests… Good luck on your watch.”
“Good luck to you too, socializing is a tiring affair after all…”
POV: Narrator
Amidst the revelry of Toron’s Yearly Jubilation, a shadow that marked an empire’s will is encroaching ever so closely… This shadow has been known to inspire both fear and respect while also being a symbol or raw power. A symbol of war and lust for glory. An effigy of Terran’s thirst for conquest. A guardian that brought forth stability and instability everywhere they stepped foot.
This… abomination… was nurtured as a means to an end, no matter how contradictive it is… When one is able to see what they’re dealing with, even the most morally upright person would be shaken with a dilemma with no clear answer within horizon…
Thus…
With a thumping sound that herald’s its judgment upon its quarry and to enact the will of their monarch, either by divine blessing or simple necessity. With flakes of snow turned into a vector of something horrid…
The baleful snow is fast approaching…
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who just want his thesis paper to be accepted pronto.
First I must clarify why I altered Heidi’s father to be more proactive. My old concept is to just make him the usual affable but cunning merchant-slash-businessmen, but then I met a roadblock in terms of who I can pair with Nyx as a friend and also witness to her atrocities. Thus he is a businessmen second and catastrophe messenger first. I’m planning to add more OCs in Victoria due to things in the future… I hope you don’t mind.
Further clarification, I was planning to make Arkell an OC with ties to the Thomson, but scrapped it since I’m not really sure if I should, or more precisely because I’m unsure if I’m even capable of it… and because of the aforementioned reasons above. Well, just tell me your thoughts on it.
Then here comes Kal’tsit, our lime lynx who must handle more problem in “A Walk in the Dust” because of our lovely Nyx’s mere existence… or is it really? So, my official stance is “I don’t know.” :)
Those who know her wouldn’t be surprised on how calm and pretty much uncaring she is when Nyx tried to be a bit mischievous so to speak.
You also might be wondering who is “them” right? Feel free to guess (I mean it is laughably easy for someone who played the game…)
And lastly, the things inside the room Kal’tsit had passed, to name a few, are 10 crates of originium ammunitions, about 15+ ish of multiple types of guns (which was supposed to be returned weeks ago but Notarial Hall is being uncharacteristically late), knives of various sizes, swords of various sizes, an originium conduit staff, 40 105mm equivalent pieces of unprimed artillery shells, arrow making and fitting bench, a full set of comms station, and some other minor things like a prototype exoskeleton Nyx had ransa- gained from a job.
:)
Update as usual, I need to go continue crunching on my thesis paper…
Ciao
"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: December 1st 1083
Location: County of Toron, Victoria
POV: Vincent
“Glad that you finally made it here, Baroness Nyx… or perhaps you would much prefer the newest moniker of yours regaled as the Silver Siren?” I lightly joked with this Pythian woman who had finally returned to my quaint domain. She had caused quite a stir, so it is more or less positive that her time of arrival with minimal scrutiny would be an ordeal.
Her face ever so slightly crumbled down into an annoyed frown. Her control of expression seems to have slipped a fair bit more than what I recalled. Did something had happened so drastically in Kzimierz, with a much more personal touch if I’m being bold, which caused her to be such as she is at the moment?
Perhaps it is for the best if I cease all conspiratorial and or hardly relevant theory crafting when I’m greeting an old friend. It would be unwise to think about something untoward when the person herself has been nothing less than a sweet and helpful lady after all.
“Hah… please stop, having to be stuck with the Grey Serpent is enough, another one only made me cringe in agony… but whatever, glad to meet you again Vincent. You too, Heidi.”
“Your performance was truly Magnificent, Lady Nyx. Perchance you would deign to teach me a sonorous melody? I’m lacking in the manner of relaxation other than dance and poetry after all.”
“That can be arranged, just get a holler with that father of yours and how is he by the way?”
“Papa had been rather… busy, so to speak along with being rather pushy as of late to boot. Well, he did approved my aspiration of becoming a novelist, so there is that. Also I’m now a Catastrophe Messenger too.”
Ah yes, Arkell was a businessmen first and foremost before he is a Catastrophe Messenger… but something happened and he turned his mind with juggling between responsibilities. The fact that he can act so unfettered despite being so restrained alluded something that either of us always been acquainted with…
“So soon?”
“Indeed, that old chap of mine, Arkell, had been really restless, what is with his works and… situations… that has been piling up just a stone throw away, his words not mine.” Without meaning to, I sighed in exasperation and mild annoyance about his hardheaded nature of old that finally resurfaced.
“I have been worrying about his health so far and if he keep working like that, his physique will be endangered the most.”
“Truly, uncle, papa was really stubborn… mama had given him a tongue lashing for it, but he is just too hardheaded…”
“It is rather concerning that my friends rarely told me about their well-being, and to be on the front seat for surprise… hah…”
“Oh, how uncouth of me. Let us head inside, it would be wise to chat over a much more amicable accommodation and atmosphere.”
“Lead the way.”
“Would you wish to partake, Heidi?”
“May I truly? Then I would love to, Uncle.”
With that, I lead these lovely ladies towards the aisle upstairs. Nyx had been a really hot topic amongst the nobility, her singing was something that is truly phenomenal. Not to mention that her song was never recorded to exist, like a song that came from a different dimension entirely.
Victorian nobilities usually look down upon Columbian style of music and its contemporaries, yet her song had become a sort of exception. A fad so to speak, the reasons still eludes them… I have an inkling, but that’s it with no concrete evidence. The only one with the most probable answer will be none other than her, she will attend our little New Year’s Eve celebration.
And it was indeed quite a lovely sonorous melody she sung merely yesteryear ago. It was like there is a different entity sharing the same body, if I were to spice up my wordings and dictions, just a notch more alluring however.
We finally reached the open aisle facing the garden below, several maids are just about to finish preparing snacks and drinks. It is not really well known yet, Nyx fascination with a particular downtown patisserie that is. Of course Nyx would have her tongue craving for more, their pastries and baked products are truly scrumptious since the time of my father and his father before him.
“Please do take a seat, dear ladies.”
“Yea, sure.”
“Very well, uncle.”
After settling on our respective seating, we just spend some time conversing about mundane ordinaries. I must say that Nyx is, truthfully, rather subdued. There is this longing within her eyes, a yearning for something. Sadly, I’m hardly an expert in the matter outside politics, of which this certainly is anything but politics.
The talks now progressed on the topic of young Heidi’s work, this niece of mine had become an aspiring novelist and journalist. A set of occupation that often times entrapped wide-eyed idealist. Sadly, I’m unable to make head or tail regarding which one Heidi truly is. Aside from her more recent employment of course…
“How is your book so far, Heidi?”
“Hmm~ it is going well. But I must say, critics had been very harsh upon my works. Not that I expect less of course.”
“Really? Care to tell me the most memorable one?”
“Yes, what was it… aha, ‘This work of yours is as substantial as evening tea parties.’ That’s one of them…”
“Damn… that’s the most polite or something?” Heidi said nothing and just smiled before continuing on with the topic.
“I’m not at the slightest bothered however, if my works is already sufficient as substitute for talks, then the only way is forward. Isn’t that so, uncle?”
“Indeed, reputable literary world is an unforgiving plane of existence. Works will be judged with rapt strictness, but those who managed would have the world… yet people often forgot why they write in the first place. Were they chasing stars? Or were they chasing themselves?”
“An interesting point of view, uncle. If only father knows that juggling between dealing with natural calamity and manmade calamity is so utterly tiring, perhaps he would be here with us.”
“I mean, your father is both a catastrophe messenger and businessmen while being a good arts caster to boot. So it wouldn’t be weird for him to be so spent.”
“Well, papa is quite willfully forgetful and seems to be more alive as Catastrophe Messenger, and he just does what he did for what its worth.”
‘Jolly, your father was always nagging me a lot during his youth about that talent of his being left underutilized… now look at him.’ I just smiled recalling the time Arkell was still very blithe spirited… good times, good times…
“I see… back to the field of literary works, anything that you can recommend me?”
The conversation was a novel one, a count, a young noblewoman, and a mercenary filled with accolades discussing about literary works. A simple topic yes, but it doesn’t take a statecraft expertise to have a theme worth being engrossed with. Without us noticing, hours had elapsed and Heidi must returned home, else Arkell would be worried.
With Heidi leaving, we can finally conversed and discussed the upcoming event. It is still a month and a half, but there is nothing problematic with lining up our itinerary.
“So you got my doctor?”
“Indeed, the doctor is a Feline cleric from Laterano. She is an expert for surgery, anatomy, and other expertise that will surely suits your need. The person in question had also voice her interest to meet you, but nothing worth be alarmed about.”
“Feline from Laterano? That’s not something you hear every day. Every Lateran I had met were either Sankta or Liberi, to the point that I once questioned whether this nation has some kind of racial policy in place.”
“Well, Sankta and Liberi did made up the majority of their demographical sphere. I can assure you wholeheartedly however, Laterano does not bar Terran from coming into their land.”
“… Hah… minus the Sarkaz?”
“Well, minus the Sarkaz…”
“…”
“…”
“So this Cleric is a special exception of some kind?”
“Verily, she is accomplished in the field of medicine and had also spearheaded further Hippocratic, in nature, breakthrough. Her medical expertise is second to none, so much so that she can commence a surgical operation for 24 hours straight without rest. What’s more is that she has other expertise that might interest you such as economics and politics, just to name a few.”
“… You spoke really highly of this cleric, what is she? Some kind of messiah?” Nyx added mirth and amusement along her utterance. From an outsider perspective, that is not a mistaken projection yet not quite apt either however.
“Well, let’s just say that she will go above and beyond what you expected. A friendly word of advice, do not try to test her. The only one with their dirty laundry and deepest desire turned inside out will be yours and only yours.”
“… Noted. You’re not the type to joke about something this serious. Is the cleric trustworthy?”
“She is very trustworthy. I’ll assure you on my honor that she won’t speak ill upon you and… even my dear teacher, Chaplain Immanuel, your adoptive father, will concede with my reasoning and logic regarding the person you’re about to meet.”
“…” She said nothing but her face harden, her eyes shook, and her grip on the armrest tightened before going lax once more. I’m more than acquainted enough with the Chaplain to decipher his line of thoughts, thus I said what I uttered as a precaution lest she did anything that would put her on a disadvantage and jeopardize herself in the long run.
“I guarantee you that the personage you’ll meet by the snowy month to be an extremely resourceful woman.”
“… Thanks for the warning, so… give me her name.”
“Kal’tsit.”
Date: 31st December 1083
Location: Vincent Manor, County of Toron, Victoria
POV: Narrator
“What a splendid blizzard eve! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, welcome please come in. allow the servants to brush the snow off your tops, and thaw yourselves by the brazier.”
“A good evening to you, Count. Truly a magnificent soiree, this is.”
“Welcome, welcome, Lady Diana. To meet you on the eve of the New Year is my honor entirely.”
“Nonsense. Now take a look, count. I’ve a present for you, all the way from Kazimierz.”
“What a beautiful pendant! My greatest thanks, Lady Diana, and send my well-wishes to your husband. Now, hurry along inside, we can’t have the snow burying your gorgeous looks.”
“Hah! You speak a fine line as ever.”
“Oh-ho, look who’s here! If it isn’t our ‘Baron of Rye!’”
“I could never shoulder a title as hefty as Baron, but here I am anyway, the pure nerve!”
“See what you’re saying! We all respect you from the bottom of our hearts. Who spurns the man who feeds his people well, now? Ha ha ha!”
“Ah, you’re quite right. Once harvest comes next year, I’d be honored if you visit my humble home. The tallest windmills in Toron, the scent of flour everywhere. A stay sure to enchant you, if I do say so myself.”
“Quite good! This blizzard shall pass, and next year will come trotting in right behind it with fine, fine harvest.”
“My gratitude to your kind words.”
Vincent is welcoming a lot of nobles to his mansion. It is a yearly event in Toron, something that has become a tradition too at this point.
“Ah welcome my dear friend! How was your business? Looks to me you added more pounds in you.”
“Hah, truly. Business is flourishing, and coupled with such a calm climate, I’m brimming in pounds!”
“Good one, head along old chap.”
“Good day to you too, Count.”
Vincent keeps on greeting all the guests that would gather upon his yearly gathering. Toron County has some measure of influence upon local nobles, but from the grand scope of things it is lacking anything worth measuring compared to the eye of the storm that is Londinimum.
Of course, Vincent had a hand in that matter, keeping his affair outside central’ notice is no small feat. His affable and modest, by nobility standard, countenance further pushed him away from the complicated mire called Victorian Politics or more aptly put Dukes’ power struggle.
It is not a secret that Victoria is fracturing, and a lot of petty or mediocre nobles stayed clear from the storm as best they can. Thus this gathering is one such method, headed by none other than Count of Toron himself. A lot of people does search for connections, but more importantly they seek safety and stability, Toron is one such place amongst several others.
Not to mention that the rumor of Vincent cordial relation with a certain mercenary added an interesting counterweight… Yet no Major faction tried to strong arm him, more is at play beneath the veil. A statement of power or dumb luck is of no matter, Toron is currently safe and that’s a fact.
While Vincent is greeting all the nobles, his eyes catches on someone who tried to skirt around the line. His eyes focused and to his exasperated helplessness, he catched Heidi trying to sneak in the party. He bid the guest a momentary leave, which they gladly acquiesce.
“E-hem!”
“!?”
“I’ve heard from my most venerable fellow student, that gifted orator, shrewd businessmen, and capable messenger, Arkell Thomson, that he had recently taken ill, and I couldn’t brook the thought of him facing a blizzard for a banquet. Hence my specifically sending for a Messenger, to send him my well-wishes – and yet, imagine my surprise to see – what seems to be a sneaky darling of a messenger right here!”
Vincent pulled Heidi towards him, several nobles chuckled in endearment seeing Heidi is being caught red-handed. Her face burned in embarrassment, but once caught is caught.
"Ah-ha Mistress Heidi, how long since we last met again? It was merely weeks ago, if my memories serves me correctly."
“Uncle Vincent, don’t ruffle up my hair! I had to spend so long making it!”
“Fine, Fine, Little Heidi had grown most excellently. But pray tell, your father never sent word you’d be arriving today. Be candid with your uncle now, have you come on the sly? And you’re still quite young. If your father saw your dress tonight, you’d be in for the nag, wouldn’t you?”
Vincent can only chuckle with her antics. Heidi’s attire is consist of an elegant shawl, a black and red hat, a prim and proper one piece dress with a coat appropriate with concurrent snowy weather and when taking her high heels into account, Heidi looks to be more mature than her actual age.
Heidi has always been a wilful lady, it is just that her independence worried her father. Arkell had been doing his best to ensure that Heidi will not be left wanting, but the young lady decided to forge her own life, with as little support from her family and friends as possible, and it shows.
“Uncle! I’d hate him nagging at me. That’s why I slipped off in the first place!”
“Then I suppose I must tell Madame Eliza about her little darling mischief?”
Heidi face broke into a horrified visage. Eliza is a dear friend of Vincent, and she was almost died once but Arkell’ quick thinking and blitheness made him truly impressionable in her eyes while saving her life to boot… still, the man will mostly likely crumpled like paper when Eliza was angered out of worry, and Heidi understood it through experience. Stray shot or not, matters not.
The two bickered in a good-natured manner. Toron’s nobles, while still quite a sophisticated bunch, is a lot more relaxed with each other. Which is why this situation can be seen in a rather pleasant mood and not usual noble’s vanities. After some more talks, Vincent relented to allow his niece to join the party, but she must promise not to touch any alcoholic beverages.
But before Heidi can enter the mansion, a green, or perhaps lime, haired feline lady in dashing suit entered the premise. Vincent light up in joy and mirthful interest, while Heidi suddenly feels a surge of heat adorning her cheeks.
“My apologies, Sir Vincent. Might I have arrived late?”
“Ah, Cleric Kal’tsit, you’re finally here. Er… your mode of dress…”
Vincent is amused seeing her attire. Instead of the usual dress meant for gala or evening parties, Kal’tsit attend with a sharp attire that ooze gallantry and chivalry.
She wear a set of black tuxedo and white undershirt with a matching black tuxedo trouser and appropriate footwear. Her hair has been combed most meticulously, and coupled with her optimal stature and figure, people might mistook her as a dashing young man with a striking refinement.
Which might not be a problem anyway. Judging by a certain crimson-faced young lady who is teetering on the edge watching such an impressive display and several surrounding attendees also looks on with interest.
“I was deeply honored by your invitation, but with sudden matters to attend to, the monastery could not prepare suitable evening attire for me. They found only this outfit buried in the storeroom, I hope you shan’t mind.”
“Oh quite naturally I shan’t. I’d go so far as to say your attire is utterly… utterly, formidably, gallant.”
“Heidi, you just don’t stand there. Here, this is Cleric Kal’tsit. Give her a greeting, and then hurry inside quickly.”
“…” Finally realizing that Heidi had gone very unresponsive, Vincent nudged her of returning to mortal realm.
“Heidi?”
“Miss Heidi, it’s good to meet you.” Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Heidi had woken up from her fantasy by none other than the formidably gallant lime-haired Feline lady.
“Ah- er- uh-, th- um, I’m, Heidi-”
“I’m quite aware and I must confess that’s an adorable name.”
“-So you’re–Cleric Kal’tsit, is that right? I often hear my uncle mention you.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
“Cleric Kal’tsit, I imagine you know of Mr. Thomson too? Quite, this is Heidi Thomson before you, that strange fellow’, who also happens to be my old chap, daughter.”
“I see your father is a person worthy of respect.”
“Right then how about you go on ahead first ahead of us, Heidi?”
“Indeed, please go right ahead of us. We have something else to discuss. Worry not I shall attend the party as well.”
“V-Very well!” Heidi, a tad flustered and thrilled, entered the mansion with more pep and joy ingrained within her steps. Seeing that the girl had gone sufficiently far away, Vincent expression turned serious. He motioned Kal’tsit closer and whispered into her ear.
“She is waiting for you at the adjacent annex in the backyard… Are you sure to contact her first and foremost?”
“I am. Let’s just say that, the deeper we dig, only further puzzlement ensues. Anomaly is putting it lightly.”
“That so… Off you go then, I must entertain the guest as per tradition, being a master of the house can be rather stiff on my shoulders these days.”
“I can prescribe you some medication and treatment later on, thus I shall be absent temporarily. Our discussion shall soon follow, Count.”
Location: Garden Annex, Vincent Manor, Victoria.
POV: Narrator.
A few moments before Kal’tsit arrival…
Cascade of gleaming metal shine beneath the artificial light within a room beneath the earth. Nyx is practicing her swordsmanship, courtesy of her lackl- varied combat styles. She had formal training from her previous worlds, but those are meant for humanoid or close to it with no extra appendages attached.
Nyx had a hard time balancing her sword strikes, parries, and even the most basic form of blocking because she keeps forgetting that her tail can be used for counterweight but instead thrashing about nigh-uncontrollably.
Back when she sparred with Silverlances, this differences made her body reflexes confused, she is gripping a two-handed sword yet it ended up being turned into a one-handed style while her other hand is holding another weapon, a gun usually. Nyx hypothesized that since ordinary Terran are stronger, they also had different classification of what can be considered heavy.
Her form had gone better these days, but Terran, or specifically Kazimierzian, style of swordsmanship revolved around making use of their superior physiology to put more power into each swing. It is a mix of two-handed style but due to aforementioned physiology, it can be done with a single hand.
“Well, guess that’s enough for now…” Nyx ended her familiarization and training using the sword Młynar had gifted her about a month ago. She had been making a pretty nice progress, but compared to real swordmasters, she is only as good as a seasoned soldier when handling the sword.
Fastening the sword back on the scabbard, she then placed it on top an empty table. She caressed the sword with a very loving expression but also a sad longing. He can’t spare any time for pursuing anything aside from them after all…
“… I would lie that I didn’t feel envious and… angry… but what can you do, life keeps on moving.” Nyx left the sword there, and starts inspecting her dwelling which is now an armory. It takes her almost 2 weeks to prepare all of these, of which Vincent lent several of his men to help around.
She grab an assault rifle magazine, it is still empty of which she decided to fill it up with originium bullets. It was a really interesting concept really, because instead of a hammer that ignited the powder to propel the bullet, Originium arms instead act like a pseudo-magnetic ejector that instead of converting magnetic force into kinetic, originium gun convert arts into kinetic force to send the bullet to where it may concern.
“… Wait, shouldn’t it be called arts ejector then? …Too bad I don’t have any degree in engineering… my old lives were truly shit, to have little advanced knowledge that doesn’t concern life and death…”
Before her mind can be filled with more grumblings, she look at the corner of her eyes and see that one of the camera is now looking at Vincent talking with… green haired… guy or girl? No matter, they immediately make a beeline towards the garden.
“… Guess that’s my doctor? Kinda weird to see her in a suit, but I’m no better. Well, might as well greet her then, but first…” Nyx equipped her earpiece communicator.
“Vincent, is that the person you told me?”
[Indeed, she is the exact same Feline lady I told you. Quite a surprise no?]
“Ok thanks, just wanna confirm. It would be hella awkward otherwise…”
[No worries, now please excuse me. I have a party to host, also remember the protocol and agreement… you’re not here.]
“Yeah, sorry for interrupting.”
POV: Kal’tsit
I walked amidst the snowy road that lead towards the adjacent annex. Vincent is as fastidious as usual in taking care of his territory, County of Toron is one of several regions in Victoria where infected and non-infected can go along with one another better, slightly below Connor County but a good thing regardless.
The backyard remained unchanged, how long has it since I walked amidst its hibernating flowers and bushes? Concept of time had turned somewhat alien to me, but I suppose that’s just how we are, relic of long forgotten past with an eternal creed.
When the scorching heat of summer emblazoned the land, I was also here to watch and listen as flames of conflict ravaged the land. The sun shone upon the battlefield, the same light that brought upon life and spectated mutely as the earth rend itself asunder.
When the damp and rich with malady temperature herald the coming of Lady Winter. The gloom cold and damp airy wind further dampened the mood of all affected. There was I, not missing a single smog of cruelty and hope turned mental fallacy for all to feel.
When snow swept the land with its cold touch, I was there and bear witness to all its tragedy and horror. How factories churned out weapons of war to fuel the frozen lake with scorching heat of progress as motivation and ideal, but the truth is nothing less than avaricious ambition as its unblemished creed and zeal.
And there I was, when the coming of spring that should have been rejoiced, only end up being dreaded. Men in their utter folly keeps on waging and exacerbating conflict upon the battered and bruised world. I sometime wondered if all is fruitless, but time won’t wait. I know just how cruel time can get.
Which is why, I must meet the woman that has been capturing my interest as of late. The annex is the same as what I had recalled with some addition. Although cleverly hidden to not be seen from afar, I can see that there is a car or a van along with a bike parked near it. The vehicles are both heavily modified based on the silhouette, with the bike seems to be several times being up-armored while the other is more akin to moving fortress.
I finally reached upon the door and it is opened before I even moved my hand. There she stood, an allegedly Pythian in nature, a silvery-ashen haired woman with a face void of emotion, she towered over me just a little. But it takes more than that to fool me, she is extremely nervous… but why? She shouldn’t have ever meet me, but her eyes shone with a slight tension of fear.
How ironic, the unknown is the first one to be unnerved. A truly nostalgic feeling…
“… Took you long enough…”
“I do apologize, the work of Cleric can be mired with unexpected setbacks and hurdles. Yet, that’s what I had bind myself into, an oath upon Hippocratic duty and fealty upon the masses collective well-being.”
“I see, well… come on in.”
“Then, do please excuse me.”
I followed her steps, and briefly inspected every room I had passed… the place had been turned into an armory and stronghold. My eyes can recognize several weaponry and equipment no mercenary should have managed to have, but what is her goal? An intimidation perhaps? No, she hardly wished for a conflict based on how she just walk in front of me uncaringly.
“So… you’re the supposed doctor?”
“A cleric to be exact, but if you much preferred that terminology, then you may call me one.”
“…and that buddy of yours, the very one that is nestled so cozily in your spine? Your nurse or something?”
My steps faltered momentarily, before bemusement sprouted within me. So she can sense Mon3tr? Truly fascinating, while she is not the first person to ever done that, I can feel a novelty in it.
“An old companion of mine, Terra is hardly a peaceful place.”
“What are you? A ‘pharmacist’ with the first letter on vacation?” she found amusement briefly, but there is still lingering caution and curiosity in her voice. She is exactly like what I envisioned when rumors, which were verified to be true, about her fondness of children and teaching came up to my attention.
Nyx was first spotted in Wladirosa and from there her exploit grew extremely skewed pertaining combat but is more than capable to work in a mundane line of work. She was well-known to not mind being treated like a weapon, she goes about it uncaringly as long as she is treated nicely with appropriate remuneration.
My assets had also confirmed that while brutal, she always tried to steer combat away from civilian sector. Still, I’m not fond with her idea to incapacitate hostages, there are better ways to go about it but she seems hellbent on building up her Grey Serpent persona.
She also has several monikers to her name. The Hidden Savior of the Silverlance, the dreaded Grey Menace of Kazimierzian prairies, the drillmaster of Toron clandestine operative group, adopted daughter of the Decimae Executor, Demon in Pythian skin… and the newest of them all, the voice of Silver Siren… An impressive resume. However…
‘Her race is unclear and no matter how many times I made cross-examination and referencing, the closest I get is an Elder Chimeric Sub-race, ludicrous on itself.’
But if that is true then the most applicable theory with sufficient probability is that every piece of her body was grafted into one, wherein the problem of such a thing should have killed her. Combining a pair of gene is plausible, if not pushing it, but more than that and the vessel will burst with infection and internally conflicting nature.
It’s like she is a race that has been borne out of miracle, but astrology and thaumaturgy is both a truly dubious field of research, but there is some truth in it simply because I had seen things throughout the ages. Regardless of how many ideas I hypothesized, by the end of the day, the truth still eludes me… should I ask… them…?
‘No, I must not think of them.’
“An interesting way of putting it, but I must confess there are some truths in your words.”
“That so…” Without her face even facing me, I can sense her inner conflict through her voice.
“If you wish to not continue, then I’ll gladly step outside. This whole conversation will never exist, although…” I trailed off, and she finished my words for me.
“… Hah… there is no more time to spare. So, biting the bullet is all I can do now. We are here.”
The room she led me too is a rather quaint one. There is window by the left side of the wall, a set of firewood storage, a simple fridge along with kitchenette, and a pair of chair facing the window with a table wedged between them. There is a set of teacups and light snacks on the table. She motioned me to sit and I obliged.
“I’m looking for a person with medical background who has time for a lengthy research and comprehension. Tell me, Cleric, what can you tell me about your expertise?”
“I have been acquainted with fields of medical research and comprehension along with its practical application since I was a mere youngling. The state of my expertise can be divided into surgical operation, theoretical analysis and research, and most of importantly general medical expertise.”
I speak about my experience pertaining the topics in mind. Being a doctor is probably the best form of respite I can have while still doing the world some good. My life has been a myriad of absurdities every now and then, and it is also tied to them. Sometimes I wonder where the end line is even at.
My journey all across Terra might be better dubbed as following the current most of the time, but I never let myself be dragged around will-nilly. Terra hasn’t changed much, and instead keeps declining from numerous standpoint.
“How admirable, doctors usually put their specialized field as their primary expertise, yet your tone confidently announced that the basics are all you need.”
“Because that’s the simple truth. You won’t be able to harvest a fruit if your knowledge of harvest, biology, and plantation is limited. You won’t be able to differentiate between a usable stalk and dead leaf correct extraction for example.”
“True, then… in the matters of body anatomy, how would you fare?”
“Hmm… it differs from each race, however I will have little to no difficulty in terms of dissection and analysis. Provided said object for further dissection is compliant with morality standard.”
“Then what if I tell you there is a willing participant who wanted their body be carved up and analyzed?”
“… You’re insinuating a dangerous proposal. What makes you think people will always do exactly what you told them?”
“Simple, when did I talked about people in the first place?”
“It appears that your words can cause severe misunderstanding, care to corroborate further?”
My expression hardened briefly, does she knows about it then? The project was not a mere singular happenstance, which I can admit is very sensitive topic that is best buried. Not every truth needs to be confirmed, but it is human nature to be curious. Robbing them off of it would be the cruelest action ever done to any sentient being.
“Guess I’m getting sidetracked. Then… how about if said subject were to provide you with a piece of themselves, with consent of course. Be it blood or flesh and bones, what do you think?”
“It is a much more preferable alternative. Not only is it more compliant with morality standard, it will also avoid unnecessary level of harm being done upon the subject in question.”
“Your angle so far was that of a scholar, but all the words flowing out of your mouth is that a doctor and nothing else…”
“It would be best if you cease insinuating implicit meanings, Lady Baroness.”
“S’pose so I guess, one last question…”
“And what would it be?”
“… Does a dog bred for war has rights and would it need reasons for seeking happiness?”
“…” That’s… a question I had expected to hear but failed to anticipate on this very moment. If my memory serves well, there were several reports of her being… lost and disgruntled every now and then, with an addition of mental lapses. I will need to perform another deliberation but that can wait.
“Well…?”
“Then let me ask you this question instead. Is it the world that willed us to evolve, or is it us who wished to? Were we given a choice into what and which body we were being born into?”
“… The answer is neither, and for the latter… No, we never.”
“Oh? Care to tell why?”
“We’re all product of circumstances from a set of cause and effect… which more often than not is beyond our control. Nothing sort of a god can have the privilege of total control, or extremely advanced lifeform capable of twisting physics to even have a snowball chance of bending reality.”
“Indeed, which is why your question is fundamentally flawed in the first place. You seek answer for a specific problem from a general angle, keep doing that and your psyche shall suffer.”
“… I hate how true that sounds while being incomprehensible and puzzling because I fudged the context intentionally.”
“Verily, but I must say you’re not too far gone. Anything else you would need? The primary ball and socializing will only start an hour away. Plenty of time for me to continue with perhaps a mental therapy and or counseling, if you so wish of course.”
“No, thank you for your time. When are you available after the party?”
“I will extend my stay for 2 more weeks, thus we have ample amount of time to iron out the details. Then 3 months at most before my schedule will no longer be a negotiable affair.”
Nyx stand up from her seat and present her hand for a handshake. I grabbed her hand while also standing up from where I was seated.
“I’ll be seeing you again, and… glad to be working with you. Hopefully that neither of us did any stupid shit…”
“Likewise. Now, if nothing else is necessary, I shall be attending the party. It won’t do for me to vanish despite clearly be seen by the host and guests… Good luck on your watch.”
“Good luck to you too, socializing is a tiring affair after all…”
POV: Narrator
Amidst the revelry of Toron’s Yearly Jubilation, a shadow that marked an empire’s will is encroaching ever so closely… This shadow has been known to inspire both fear and respect while also being a symbol or raw power. A symbol of war and lust for glory. An effigy of Terran’s thirst for conquest. A guardian that brought forth stability and instability everywhere they stepped foot.
This… abomination… was nurtured as a means to an end, no matter how contradictive it is… When one is able to see what they’re dealing with, even the most morally upright person would be shaken with a dilemma with no clear answer within horizon…
Thus…
With a thumping sound that herald’s its judgment upon its quarry and to enact the will of their monarch, either by divine blessing or simple necessity. With flakes of snow turned into a vector of something horrid…
The baleful snow is fast approaching…
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who just want his thesis paper to be accepted pronto.
First I must clarify why I altered Heidi’s father to be more proactive. My old concept is to just make him the usual affable but cunning merchant-slash-businessmen, but then I met a roadblock in terms of who I can pair with Nyx as a friend and also witness to her atrocities. Thus he is a businessmen second and catastrophe messenger first. I’m planning to add more OCs in Victoria due to things in the future… I hope you don’t mind.
Further clarification, I was planning to make Arkell an OC with ties to the Thomson, but scrapped it since I’m not really sure if I should, or more precisely because I’m unsure if I’m even capable of it… and because of the aforementioned reasons above. Well, just tell me your thoughts on it.
Then here comes Kal’tsit, our lime lynx who must handle more problem in “A Walk in the Dust” because of our lovely Nyx’s mere existence… or is it really? So, my official stance is “I don’t know.” :)
Those who know her wouldn’t be surprised on how calm and pretty much uncaring she is when Nyx tried to be a bit mischievous so to speak.
You also might be wondering who is “them” right? Feel free to guess (I mean it is laughably easy for someone who played the game…)
And lastly, the things inside the room Kal’tsit had passed, to name a few, are 10 crates of originium ammunitions, about 15+ ish of multiple types of guns (which was supposed to be returned weeks ago but Notarial Hall is being uncharacteristically late), knives of various sizes, swords of various sizes, an originium conduit staff, 40 105mm equivalent pieces of unprimed artillery shells, arrow making and fitting bench, a full set of comms station, and some other minor things like a prototype exoskeleton Nyx had ransa- gained from a job.
:)
Update as usual, I need to go continue crunching on my thesis paper…
Ciao
