13th October, 1137, Havel

  Nameless

  ‘Hiya, Rosemary, if you are reading this letter, it means that I’ve made a big soap. There is a reason why I didn’t want to say everything at Lily’s place…that is because I really wanted to know how do you look like, since Lady Dawn keeps bringing you up. Anyways, regarding the things you asked:

  The Belt of Fatherland appeared when my great-great-grandfather was little. They said that it “grew from one side to another.”

  Despite what people think, life here ain’t that bad, crops are growing, cities are expanding, ales still brewing, you get the gist. There had just been a big festival before I left. I like it there, but I want to become a doctor, just like Herald Romily and Dzintare (the Church of Starseeker didn’t become mainstream, but still kind of popular), so I crossed the Belt and went to Auderheim to learn the newest things.

  You asked if the Tree of Sunrise had healed from its rot…

  I don’t know what that means. For a long time, Lady Dawn had stayed the same, I cannot say how long, and I doubt anyone knows about it.

  Lady Dawn is still speaking and shining. I asked her about you, and she only giggled.

  PS. When I first attempted to cross the Belt, I saw a man; he stared at me before he left. After that, a door appeared on the Belt.’

  Nameless put down the letter as she looked into the depths of the lawyer’s eyes. Kodekse. A lawyer who seemed like she also represented Yarrow. She couldn’t see through the exhaustion in Kodekse’s eyes. Shrouded, obscured, almost like the sky of Yel, polluted by light shining bright, turning nights into days.

  “Alright, now to the meat. Your situation is peculiar in the West…I can help you. Such cases like yours are quite common in Senhashi and Siyue, considering how often abnormalities emerge from the influence of the Moon of Evolution.”

  “What does it say?” Kodekse asked as she crossed her legs. She closed her eyes, seemed almost asleep for a blink of an eye. Her head nodded like a metronome for a while while her eyes stayed half-closed.

  “…A letter regarding how things are going,” Nameless answered.

  “So, Rosemary, are you going to tell me anything? Just curious, but I’m sure someone like you isn’t constrained by the rules of society, no? My Realm-art hypersensitivity tells me that you are more than meets the eye,” Kodekse asked as she snapped from her micro-sleep. As she waited for Nameless’s response, Nameless’s mind raced. She knew that Kodekse was her only choice of leaving this place without resorting to violence or other radical measures. Deep inside, Nameless knew that there was never a meaning for her to follow the rules, to stick to the morals built into her. She could unleash the power within her any time she wished, but the aftermath was never clean…and to use that power without reason, she would feel deeply disgusted. But the yearning to be closer to what she once was, and the friends she had to see, burned away in their ideals, made Nameless what she was. She wished to burn, but she was ashes.

  “I rebel when needed,” Nameless said.

  “I do not have a name, only an alias and a mere adjective that can be referred to me,” Nameless continued. She combed her hair strands behind her ears as she felt it slither down her finger.

  “Are you…an abnormality?” Kodekse asked, scribbling something on her board. Her pen moved smoothly.

  “…Not an abnormality, but an immortal.”

  “How come?”

  “Kodekse, this is where I suggest you change the topic,” Nameless said casually, staring at Kodekse.

  Kodekse didn’t say anything, only smiled and nodded along. Her hat’s edge moved with her, like a jellyfish blown by the stream.

  “Then…Miss Rosemary,” Kodekse said as she leaned on the table, her hat’s tip almost touching Nameless’s forehead, “tell me about yourself, not as an immortal, a suspect…but a person. Your story, dreams, and all that sort of thing.”

  “This will only be between you and me,” Kodekse added.

  The room fell silent for a moment. Nameless could feel Kodekse’s shallow, light breath and her stare. She was inviting, asking Nameless to tell her story, but it was akin to a listener yelling “one more time” after a song. When Suiming suggested she be a bard, this was what she feared the most.

  “Age…it does not lead to happiness, nor free us from confusion,” Nameless said. Kodekse’s eyes opened wide, her sleepiness washed away as her eyes seemed to almost sparkle.

  “How is that so?”

  “There once was a scholar who believed, if he learnt the truth of the Realm, there would be no place left for doubt and aimlessness, that he would be happy ever after. But looking now, he had walked past way more places, goal after goal, believing he would stop being adrift, that he would figure everything out…” Nameless stated as she fell back on her chair. It was barely cushioned, but she didn’t mind the grudge against his back, the creak of the legs, and the screws on the back that she could feel through the thin cushion.

  “Ah, interesting. Quite relatable, I’d say.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “And if you want to hear a story of my journey…” Nameless said, observing Kodekse’s reaction.

  Kodekse smiled at the sudden silence as she nodded for Nameless to go on.

  “A long time ago, before the Grand Dome was built, my friend and I searched for an item, a relic. So as we journeyed East, we eventually arrived at Senhashi. At that time, we believed that it was impossible to find.”

  “But the Moon of Evolution gazed at me while we were crossing a bridge; thankfully, only my friend and I were on that bridge. She helped to stop people from crossing it while we waited,” Nameless said as she paused.

  “And?”

  “…Well…things came alive, lanterns, tools…they started to parade alongside the creation of my power. This day was marked as the Parade of the Abnormalities. Sometimes…maybe Existences cause happiness, not horrors, but only sometimes,” Nameless said, feeling her head become heavier.

  “A quite…heartwarming story.”

  “Kodekse, how long do I have to stay here?” Nameless asked.

  “I thought you’d ask this from the beginning,” Kodekse said.

  “I’ll get Adole here, you are going to sign some documents…and I’ll see if there is any way for you to get an identity.”

  “The mushroom will keep an eye on you,” Kodekse added.

  Nameless paused as she recalled the complex runes of the structure. One of her long-dead friend once explained how a runic system could mark somebody with their True Name. Though it did not seem like the technology of utilizing a being’s True Name had been reinvented, she wondered what Kodekse meant by it. So far, it seemed like Auderheim created their own, less cruel Burnt Codex, though the Codex executes its incomprehensible laws on all creatures, regardless of whether it knew their True Name or not.

  “…I doubt the imitation of the Burnt Codex could constrain me,” Nameless said.

  “But I believe your morals do.”

  …

  Acryl

  Suiming was right. Many officers here, in Havel, spoke Euthian, maybe not fluently, but passably, at least Acryl respected the effort they put in learning a foreign language that did not seem to be commonly used here. After asking if he was free to go, the officers let them out.

  He sat in the hallway of the police station, hands free from the handcuffs, his belongings returned to him, though they did look through his sketchbook and questioned why he had sketched Seren, Neon, and Suiming. Embarrassment aside, Acryl did not see a point in asking that question. Neon never minded him drawing her and would often pose for him. Seren was a public figure with pictures everywhere, and Suiming didn’t seem to care at all. Acryl buried his face in his sketchbook as Neon fell asleep on his shoulder. She breathed softly while Acryl flipped through the sketchbook. It started with a glass.

  A subject that required an understanding of light and shadow, controlling the lines of the contour, and sharpness. He flipped to the next page, full of doodles of critters with horns and eyes, some fluffy, some not, some seemed familiar, some seemed otherworldly. With a few squigly lines and round shapes, lines and dots for eyes, the tiny creatures he had drawn were in everyday scenes- sitting on the table, by the edge of a bowl. Acryl shuffled through his sketchbook until he found a new page to doodle on. He grabbed the pencil in his hand as he twisted his wrist to draw rather than his whole arm. Neon was still sleeping soundly, though Acryl’s shoulder was already sore. After sketching down his surroundings and drawing his sketchbook and hand on the paper, he heard a door open.

  A woman walked out of it, wearing a unique hat, with it shaped like a book, with the red ribbon on it like a stuck-out tongue. She yawned as she walked toward Acryl’s direction, glanced at him as she passed. After a few steps forward, she stopped and turned back to Acryl.

  “Are you the Furcase archetype caster?” she asked in Euthian. Acryl nodded.

  “Then talk to the Rosemary lady later, ask her to give you the letter, alright” she continued.

  “Alright?” Acryl said, hesitantly, rolling the pencil in his hand.

  After a second of confusion, when his mind emptied, he went back to scribbling.

  The blank page filled one after the other, his graphite expanded like a raging storm across the fields. Acryl had forgotten the time as he heard the door creak again. This time, Nameless walked out with the lawyer and the officer. The lawyer gestured for them to follow her as she waved her hand slightly.

  “Your friend is now being monitored,” the lawyer said, showing a small, disk-like object in her hand. The thing was as big as her hand, with tiny runes carved into its brass surface shining like spiraling fireworks. She handed it to Nameless, who put it on her wrist. The brass disc started to clank and shift as the metal wrapped around and climbed up Nameless’s arm.

  “So, you all better act carefully. With the question of self-defense, it is best not to cast, things would get messy if there weren’t eye witnesses or recordings,” she continued.

  “Since you are foreigners, Officer Adole would have left you with a warning for public casting. Next time, you’d get fined.”

  The lawyer and officer accompanied them to the nearest hotel. Even in the night, Havel shone bright. All street lamps stem from the tower of runes in the middle of it. Its fuzzy light streamed down the empty city as stalls and stands selling street food joined the current of light and warmth.

  The lawyer waved them goodbye as she strolled back with the officer. The hotel wasn’t big; its interior was lit with dim lights, illuminating the wooden decorations and walls. The colors were warm, like a sunset he had painted a long time ago. Spots of color filled the canvas. Neon was off to register them for a room; it had been a minute, which meant she most likely was chatting with the front desk.

  After seeing that no one was around, except the front desk employee, Acryl tapped Nameless’s shoulder. Without a word, Nameless gave him the envelope.

  As he held the envelope, Acryl felt a tingle, a whisper of a silent stream of an arcane item. He could feel it going around in a certain pattern, a pattern that could let him channel similar power.

  Realm-art: Pure-white Palette

  Feeling that the negative space of the power was filled by the chaotic color of his Realm-art, Acryl opened the envelope, pulling out the letter. The ink on it shifted as it turned from a foreign language to Euthain. The writing was elegant and flowy, like a tree’s branch dancing in the wind.

  Hiya, I hope this letter reaches the right person.

  An artist asked me to write this letter for him in exchange for a portrait, so here goes nothing:

  Acryl, I will be staying at Herald Romely’s Church for quite a while. Come find me urgently, your condition…perhaps you won’t feel anything right now, but there isn’t much time left. Your blood is now being replaced by the blood of the Starseeker, elixir for some, but venom for you.

  If I’m not sitting in the church, then I’m most likely in the sewers behind the church.

  Yours truly

  Canvas