Acryl

  All silenced once sat down. Lily and Forget-me-not sat next to her. She glanced at others with her eyes, whispering to Lily every few seconds. Acryl imagined how the leader of Lily’s brotherhood would be loud, confident, and full of passion, but was just…unmoved, with no speech, and not try to put herself into a leader’s position as if the seat meant nothing.

  They looked like a painting for Acryl as the shadow passed above them. Rosemary’s yellow clothes complimented the violet-brownish stain on Forget-me-not’s waistcoat while their expressions were natural and pleasing to the eyes. Even a snapshot of what was happening could be turned into a painting without changing anything in composition or color. The lighting of this place is never seen anywhere else.

  “First of all, let’s welcome back our member! Although she couldn’t speak Euthian right now, I could be her personal translator.”

  “What? Oh uh-, alright, umm, psst, hey, Forget-me-not, what’s the word for cannianchao in Euthian?”

  “Remnant tide? Appreciate it.”

  “So, recently return from the remnant zone after-”

  “How long has she been there?” Parsley interrupted.

  “A thousand and hundred thirty-seven years,” Forget-me-not answered. Acryl could see Lily was staring at him as she frowned. Knowing who Forget-me-not is, Acryl couldn’t help but wonder what he had gone through. What was his past, how come he knew the exact time was gone…and how old he is?

  In Siyue it is inevitable for someone to come across an abnormality, some of them live as long as humans, but some of them can even recount the days before the War, but none of them could live as long as a millennia. If there is anyone who did, then they are no different than a monument.

  He knew more about Suiming yet now he felt that he hadn’t even scraped the surface.

  “It has come to my attention that she does not know all of you, so could you all please introduce yourselves?”

  “No objections? Let’s start with you then Parsley.”

  “What language do you want me to talk in?” Parsley said, taking off his legs from the table, Acryl could see that he sighed as Lily called his name.

  “Anyone you want, dead, alive… constructed language doesn’t count though,” Lily said as she put her legs crossed on the table.

  Parsley opened his mouth. He spoke in a language that was not similar to either Siyuenese or Euthian. Acryl knew some Senhashian and Auderheimian, yet the language Parsley spoke was not similar to any of them.

  Although strange and unheard of, the language was somehow comforting to Acryl. It felt like a distant lullaby from a time so long that perhaps the only paintings from that time had all been degraded and lost so much color that they were no different than blank canvases. Sage and Iris seemed surprised that Parsley spoke in such a language. Was it Treisaulian? Acryl thought to himself. Unfortunately, Yarrow wasn’t here, otherwise she would’ve translated it.

  After a short introduction from other members, it was Acryl’s turn. It was not obligated to say their profession, nationality, or other information.

  “My plant is Thyme, I found the invitation myself and…I am Euthian, also a painter.”

  He was not used to introducing himself to other people, it has been something Acryl had done many times, yet whenever he had to stand up, his heart pounds fast. This time, however, did not feel the accelerating drum within his chest.

  Lily’s brotherhood has only a handful of members some invitations might never be found, Acryl perhaps could never know how crowded the brotherhood had been. One thing he had noticed was that although it was called a brotherhood, most of the members were female, if what Suiming said was true, then this organization had been around for at least a millennia.

  The wind blew restlessly as they started a free discussion. It might be the only activity the brotherhood does in every session or meeting.

  Acryl calmed his nerves and asked his question:

  “Does anyone know…where the First Mephisto once lived?”

  Forget-me-not, hearing his question, stopped his chat with and ‘Iris’, turned to him and answered:

  “It is gone, nothing, not even a speck of dust, why would you go there?”

  “…It is a deal that I made with someone.”

  “When will you be going then?”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Next week.”

  Forget-me-not silenced for a while. His hand on his chin as he tapped his finger like Kaspar in the tavern. One-two-and-three-four

  His tapping stopped as the frown on his forehead un-knotted. Forget-me-not blew out a long breath as if he was letting something in his heart out.

  “If you count that house in the Old town…Thyme, if I were you I would not make the same decision.”

  “Why?” Acryl asked as he grew more curious, he grew up listening and reading similar stories of arcane and urban legends. Pulp fiction and what he could hear people on the streets talk about.

  “It was said that there were three crowns. One for the sage who lit the shadows, one for the sinner who turned himself gold, and one for a fool threefold greater than them both.” Parsley interrupted.

  “But Sage’s crown- lost, never to be found again. The Fool’s crown- kept away, far from anyone’s reach, guarded by threefold brightness and threefold darkness, only the sinner’s crown remains. A heirloom in the School of Faust. Thyme, if that person wants to see the manor of The First Mephisto, you must take into the risk of them being a Faust.”

  Acryl did not answer Parsley’s statement. He had no idea of what he was talking about he used to brush these statements as just folk tales, a member of the brotherhood said it, he would take it in mind.

  Forget-me-not’s eyes swayed as he crossed his leg. Turning to Iris he asked:

  “Iris, how much are you paying me for?”

  “For what, Oh…how much do you need?” Iris said as she stretched her arms.

  “How much for overtime?”

  “…How about I just…empty the national bank for ya? Ahh, but remind me to pay you before the first week of October.”

  “Oh? Then don’t mind if I make Euth go bankrupt. There isn’t a single cent I paid in tax anyways.”

  “Yeah, back to you Thyme, like I said, I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

  “The reason…there are too many things you don’t know about The First Mephisto, what had he done…what had he worked with and…what he failed to do…and what he wanted to do,” Suiming said as his eyes swayed more than before. The confidence in his voice started to slip away like the wind. His face’s emotion faded as he continued, eventually his words became gibberish. Acryl started to doubt if his decision was right, but right now he still wanted to complete his deal with Kaspar.

  “Can you go with me?” Acryl said, fidgeting his thumb as he looked into Forget-me-not’s moving, avoiding eyes. He did not answer. Mouth shut as a gate. Forget-me-not took off his monocle as he looked toward Iris.

  “Kid, maybe I could come with you.” Iris offered.

  “Not following you, of course, I’ll just be looking from far away, making sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “Iris, can I have a word with you real quick?” Forget-me-not interrupted.

  ….

  Suiming

  He guided Seren to the edge of the field. Right before the complex rune-like seal Fosfor created, between the shadow sun and the white field.

  “A mission report, eh?” Iris said as she picked up a flower from the field.

  Suiming nodded and retold the things that happened in the ruin in great detail, including the strange encounter with the First Mephisto and the seal.

  “Do you have any good guesses?” Iris asked.

  “I’m not too sure, but I reckon it has something to do with the essence of her power.”

  “Technically speaking, Nameless is using the emanation of that piece…which considering its ability to evoke…manifest…ehhh…make…, you get the gist, things from her memories,”

  “It might be that the non-existent people, the First Mephisto were also emanations.”

  “Now is your part.”

  “Oh…uh, I might have to disappoint you, Suiming, there is nothing similar like what happened to you in the archives.”

  “Thanks, but speaking of Acryl…I was thinking maybe I can convince Nameless to be there?” Suiming said.

  “Sounds solid, just tell her to bring the sword.”

  ….

  Nameless

  Whoever weaved that dream was not something Nameless could figure out on her own.

  The brotherhood wasn’t the same as she remembered. Everything felt the same, the wind, the sun that illuminated the darkness, and the unnamed, unrecognized white flower that carpeted the entire space, but the people had changed, all new faces, all old pseudonyms. The Sage was no more the herbalist she remembered, Thyme not the librarian, and Parsley…Parsley was not that all-capable craftswoman in her memory. Not it was all strange, a realm-lore student, an artist, and some Siyuenese peddler who spoke Yellian. Fluent Yellian.

  “Does it mean the Plague of Ignorance is now history?”

  “A long time ago, about a thousand a two hundred years ago.”

  “And how’s the city of Spree?”

  “It’s now called Havel, quite a nice place, we should go there someday.”

  “How does it feel to be the strongest and the oldest?” Fosfor asked, half joking.

  “…Did the future have a place for me?”

  Nameless couldn’t help but wonder if the future was the way she dreamed it to be. A thousand years absent from the world and a thousand years rotting in a warm dream. She had become an outsider in this world. Now she felt like she had never climbed that vine, trapped in a bigger castle and a prison that knows no bounds.

  “Fosfor…could you tell me how it is in the world? Was this the future they envisioned?”

  Nameless asked as she took a bite off Fosfor’s biscuit.

  The sweeter than new year expanded on her tongue, yet something unbelievably bitter exploded in her mouth. Nameless couldn’t tell what the sweet was meant to pair wit,h nor how Fosfor managed to cook such a foul thing resembling the appearance of food.

  “Do you like how the future tastes?”

  “…Too sweet…and…too bitter at the same time…” Nameless responded, putting the biscuit back on the table.

  “We haven’t met this long, don’t you want to meet up somewhere later?” Fosfor said as she offered a glass of water.

  “How about that hill we used to watch the sunset at?” Nameless answered, taking the glass from Fosfor’s hand.

  “…An experiment with arcane items leveled that place,” Fosfor answered, waiting for Nameless to finish drinking. Nameless put down the glass, turning her head up as she gazed into the nothingness. Pure darkness, pure emptiness. It was the nihility where the unending possibility hid; it was the place where nothing became something.

  “A thousand years…a thousand years. Not even enough for the moon to lose its embrace from us, not enough for fish to call land home. A thousand years is too short for life to change its form, too short for any change in the physical world. I don’t know this world anymore, Fosfor… Every war has its victim, and my war was never won. Tell me, Fosfor, do Existences feel the same?” Nameless said, staring into Fosfor’s eyes. Her black iris felt like it was an answer itself. After all, Barricade’s essence is a poor cutout of the Existences.

  “You know immortality the best, but…oh, that’s not my expertise, did you get amnesia? Nameless, I’m not that smart, alright? A thousand years for me was quite long…but do Existences feel the same? Then do you feel the same when your creations fade away?”