Silvia

  “It is every scholar’s dream to answer a child’s every question. But then, what is a scholar, if not a more sophisticated, less curious child? What is that that draws the line between a kid looking at ants moving sand around and a scientist observing ants’ behaviour?” the man said as he held an aluminum can in his hand. Nectar bled down his arm as he talked. They were standing in a less busy area of the city centre, not too far away from the place Silvia planned to meet Suiming. Dead wigs and bike lanes, old buildings and properties rented to small businesses. The bright sunlight spilled over the street, drowning it in its glorious light.

  “But, Kaspar, children can be cruel. What draws the line between a child and a scientist is the method, the experience; therefore, a scientist is a child with experience and methodology.”

  “And Kaspar…I am not interested in this conflict between your cult and academia. As I’ve said before, I don’t have any way to retrieve the beacons. Please, if you will, excuse me and let me go about my day,” Silvia responded as she frowned. She looked back, and Seren was there as she noticed two figures in gray robes approaching. Seren’s hand was on her sword’s pommel. Silvia’s heart raced. Kaspar stood before her, grinning. His stare pierced Silvia as she attempted to find a way out.

  “Despite that, Frau Himmelazur, your language had already reflected your bias, calling the scholars of opposing ideology ‘cult’ clearly illustrates where you stand.”

  “I am not going to change my language if the opposing scholars invaded my privacy and academic freedom, what the School of Faust’s behavior displayed is nothing different than a cult,” Silvia responded, trying to raise her voice through her sore throat.

  Kaspar sighed. He threw the aluminium can away, letting it roll on the asphalt ground as he clapped his hands. The people in gray robes followed. Their figures looked tall in Silvia’s eyes, shadows long and crooked, but stances ever confident.

  “So, Sage, why did a Faust with four-times-sharpened Realm-art want to pick on you?” Seren said as she stood next to Silvia, her sword still gripping the pommel of that azure sword.

  “I’ll explain later,” Silvia answered, trying to calm down her mind. She closed her eyes, feeling the free wind brushing against her face. It wasn’t long until she reached the bakery, where she planned to meet Suiming. The wooden plaque of that bakery was cut into the form of a round break with a cup right next to it, worn out and weathered as half of the colors faded from the light or the rain.

  “Oh, the sword…” Silvia said as she held the doorknob, ready to twist it. Seren grabbed her sword in a similar manner, ready to unsheath it any moment.

  “No worry, just wait a minute, you can go inside.”

  Silvia nodded, turning the doorknob, she walked inside. Bread and ferment relinquished her stressed nerves the moment she immersed herself in the neat atmosphere of it, half dim light shining by the corner, heat coming from the oven as the newly baked breads were put on shelves.

  Her eyes scanned for Suiming and Ferr quickly. The blue figure was sitting in the corner, sipping on a glass of juice. By the counter was Ferr, counting change in his hand as he used his free hand to push his glasses back. His apron was stained with engine oil- the result of his bringing his apron from home.

  “The washing machine broke again?” Silvia asked, putting her hand against the counter. Inspecting the pattern of the slight steam on Ferr’s glasses.

  “I’ll rewrite the runes later,” Ferr answered, wiping his hands with a dry towel. “So, are they here?”

  Silvia didn’t answer. She combed her hair with her fingers behind her ear, glancing at the corner where Suiming sat. Silvia felt an enormous strain in her, strings pulling her heart apart. Schoolwork, research, exams, and that strange dynamic and conflict between her and the Faustus. Kaspar’s question still lingered in her. A tune that would never escape her ears.

  “Sil?” Ferr’s voice broke her from her thoughts. Silvia looked at Suiming again, this time he was fidgeting with the coin. Acryl, who sat across him, was sketching. The pencil flowed freely across his sketchbook. His expression was exhausted, but in Acryl, Silvia saw something. A bird dancing in its cage.

  “Ferr, we’ll talk later, alright?” Silvia said, walking away from the counter. She dragged her steps to the table, her hat almost slipping off her head. Her body collapsed onto the cushioned seat. Walls surrounded her as she felt like being closed in a shell. Right as she sat down, the door opened and a familiar azure figure walked in. Seren stood beside the table, her sword missing as she held her luggage case.

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  “Suiming, it’s time I tell all of you why I need your help,” Silvia said in Euthian. She swallowed. Ferr promised this place would be free of any unwanted ears, but a sense of fear still lingered.

  “As you may know, Ferr and I are currently conducting research related to the component of the Realm, seeking evidence that could prove the theory of the scent of the Realm, or proving other theories, the problem is that the retraction mechanism of the device recording the Realm is broken and the site where it is located had collapsed,” Silvia continued. All of the group looked at her. They were all silent, not even their breath made a sound. Only the ding of the oven reminded Silvia that she wasn’t deaf.

  “…But here’s the other problem, due to some unknown reason, the School of Faust eagerly wants me to halt my research and has sent me threat letters…I am afraid to report it to the authorities, so I had to resort to the Brotherhood,” Silvia said. Her heartbeat was fast, and she scratched her arm again. How would they feel? Will Professor Forget-me-not refuse, if he knew why?

  The table stayed silent as before. Suiming yawned; he toyed with his glass on the table, turning the side with the handle away from him. His eyes reflected the warm light coming from the ovens; the crackling heat and distorted air reflected on his monocle.

  “That’s it?” Suiming broke the silence.

  “Well, I’d better keep my word, Silvia,” Suiming said. The moment his syllable dropped, Silvia felt the strings on her heart loosen; that knot in her head untied as she felt the weights on her lifted away. She didn’t know how to thank Suiming.

  “Where’s that place? I’ll pay it a visit tomorrow.”

  “Ferr’ll give you the map,” Silvia said. She glanced at Acryl, noticing that he was puzzled, and so was his companion.

  “…Do I have to go?” Acryl asked.

  “Oh, no, you don’t…I don’t want more people to be in trouble because of me.”

  …

  Acryl

  “Do you have a place to stay at night?” Silvia asked. She said while putting on her white, thin coat. Neon shook her head while Suiming looked like he didn’t care if he had a roof over his head.

  He didn’t speak Auderheimian, but thankfully, Silvia spoke Euthian. After around fifteen minutes of walking, passing the bustling city center, walking with street musicians strumming their instruments, and helping a drunk man get back on his feet, they arrived at Silvia’s apartment. The complex had warm colors, jolly orange, and dull grey that crossed each other, and windows darker than pupils. Acryl wouldn’t say he’d like to live in such an apartment, but he certainly won’t dislike it.

  “Neon, we are at Auderheim…remember what we said?” Acryl whispered in Siyuenese, almost to himself. Neon turned to him, her turquoise eyes worryless and clear, though Acryl could guess that she was frightened, learning that they had almost encountered the Troupe.

  “Of course, Rinstadt…I thought we might go to Havel first, but the river Rine is much more beautiful than I thought.”

  “It’s four hours by train,” Suiming added.

  Seren had gone to a convenience store near the moment they arrived.

  “My apartment is going to be a little bit messy… so sorry in advance,” Silvia said, holding the door open. The inside was dim, warm, colored by the sun shining through the blinds, and a smell of glue lingered in the air, somewhat similar to the color of acrylic paint. The apartment was not at all messy- things were rather ordered, with only keys and purses in the drawer near the door, and some dirty clothes in a basket, much more organized compared to how Canvas’s room and his room were on weekdays. A man’s grunting came from the other side of the apartment as Acryl heard something fall. He sensed a wave of casting. A stream, to be more precise. Acryl assumed that such a Realm-art was not something of great casting range but of precision. The fine outline pens of Realm-arts.

  He muttered something in Auderheimian that Acryl didn’t understand, but he did hear numbers ‘four hundred’ and ‘seven hundred ninety-six’.

  “Poor guy…” Suiming whispered in Euthian, playing with a coin in his hand.

  “What did he say?” Neon asked before Acryl could ask.

  “Oh, he said that he would like to throw things out of the window if the runes stopped working again, but his equipment was too expensive to break, and the price for the specialized ink is so high, he might just switch lanes,” Suiming answered, flicking the coin up and catching it. Acryl sensed a slight tingle from the coin, it felt similar to talismans and Realm-arts, but much more unnoticeable.

  “Acryl, flower, or number?” Suiming said, purple eyes staring at Acryl.

  “Uh…flower,” Acryl answered, noticing that Silvia had gone to a room to the left. Opposite to where the scent of glue came from.

  Suiming opened his fist, revealing the copper coin in it. Acryl was right, the vague and blurred thing was the shape of a lotus flower.

  “Didn’t Uncle Xihua have these coins?” Acryl said, turning to Neon, who was eating a berry-red hawthorn roll she had carried all the way from Siyue. She nodded, chewing the candy off its bigger roll.

  “Dad used to collect coins, but he said he got bored with it and sold them,” Neon responded.

  “Isn’t this an arcane item?” Acryl asked, inspecting the barely visible carvings and prints. He loved observing these patterns in mundane things, which helped him to paint those stylized, colorful paintings.

  “Good job, mate, how did you get that? The little tingle around your spine? Oh, wait, lemme guess, do you have Realm-art hypersensitivity?” Suiming said.

  Acryl nodded.

  “Oh, wait, did you never get diagnosed?”