After yesterday's whole mess I decided to take this day as a resting and relaxation day from my typical affairs. I doubt Tharja would annoy me today since yesterday she said "You already had a rough day. For the success of experimentations and curses, it would be best to take some time to rest."
Oh, my master, I will take every little second of this time to lazy around like no other.
My body isn't rested yet. The damage I took yesterday was too much for a whole flask of vulnerary to take effect, so I had taken my damaged body to the white mage here. Even in the country of dark magic, everybody needs a white mage. After all, they are the only people with the ability to heal. Imagine the combination of herbalist, surgeon, and priest and you will get the gist of what is supposed to be a white mage.
It was my first time going to a white mage. Up to yesterday every sickness or problem I had was resolved with vulneraries. Now we had to rely on someone who knows stuff, instead of curing everything with the magical concoction.
"What brings you here, Tharja?' said one of the doctors, a little surprised to see her. The reaction to me was strange. Do white mages even speak with dark mages? I didn't bother to care at all. For all I know, they might be someone Tharja knows.
"It isn't for me, it is for my retainer. Henry decided it was a good idea to hit him with Ruin of all tomes," She explained to the "doctor". He was flabbergasted by the fact I was hit by a Ruin tome, showed by his open mouth and eyes wide open in surprise.
"The Ruin tome!? Holy Grima, the fact he still has all four arms intact is a damn miracle," He turned to me, "If you don't mind, where were you hit by the spell?" I pointed to a charred part of my chest, my veins visible to the naked eye with the deformations in the skin, a dark chasm covering the area.
A few parts of my clothes were smelling like ash. It wasn't in the new robes but the old ones. Still walking with a hole wasn't fun.
He touched the part hit by the rays of Ruin with one of his grubby fingers. The pain, how could I classify it? Well, to start it felt like being boiled in hell's cauldron, a thousand little needles pressing with a brute force against the flesh stinging and blinding my senses, the saliva coming out of my mouth at this point. The doc immediately stopped touching when he noticed my reaction.
"This was to be expected. To this day, I don't think I am accustomed to seeing Ruin's injuries, the patient always comes in dead. They are a bitch to treat. And you, little fella; you are one lucky son of a bitch to survive this whole mess."
I wasn't expecting him to have such a foul mouth, but I liked that. I still didn't trust him, though, and kept a little more away. A little bit of paranoia goes a long way.
"Hmmm," is all that I replied with, the white mage groaning and frowning at my response.
Then he turned to Tharja.
"He isn't a talkative one, is he?" A hint of irritation was in his tone,
"No," she answered, indifferent while keeping an eye on me.
"You aren't so different in that regard," It was Khalid, and now the "Doctor". I guess there is some bit of truth there. Still, I don't think an obsession with Robin happened with me.
"Henry is always a problem," he groaned, "The guy keeps robbing corpses even after we told him not to. Well, at least he helps clean up by transferring them to his personal courtyard. At least I don't have to smell rotten bodies."
At that moment, I realized I didn't like him that much.
"Hmm hmmm, so what?" Tharja reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing with a death glare.
"We start now!" He picked up a staff and started muttering some weird words. Stuff like "qlwo qouz kloz Koib," and some other sounds I couldn't even begin to phantom.
I felt the broken tissues extending and connecting like strands of spider webs, recovering from the burning hell I had endured. The tingles disappeared to the air massaging my body, the charred part peeling off like a small cape of ash to reveal a soft skin with no scars
"There, done. I thought it would be worse, but it was easy. Now I have some important matters to attend to. Get out!"
I got out the moment he had finished the sentence, thinking better of thanking him or anything, and went with Tharja to the area where our dorms were. Tharja and I said goodbye to each other. Me with a nod and her a: "take it easy". After this moment, I did the old routine of locking the door and sleeping
This led to my current state of awakening. I have a whole day to myself again and I'm thinking about what I could possibly do. I'm not in the mood for reading, I want something else, just anything to quench a little bit of boredom.
I wonder where I can go in these empty confines called my safe house. Oh wait, I have a great idea, let's try to recharge the cell phone! After all, it is electric energy…
Right, who am I kidding? Flux doesn't make any electrical current.
I go to my desk and see the letter thrown around. Oh yeah, stupid old me, I have a moment to talk with Robin about my culture…
Well, guess I've now solved what I'm going to do for the remainder of the day. Oh yeah, she never told me what hour it was. Let's go to the library then. And also bring with me my little bag (Backpack) with books and clothing. I guess she will be interested in these things.
The library is just like the first time I met Reflet, with the sole difference being there are people in it now. At least they don't care if you invade their 'private' area. They ignore you like any other person in the room. Unless you make a noise, in which case may your soul rest in peace, librarians aren't a merciful kind. We are all here for books after all, and speaking with someone would be a massive waste of breath, time, and peace anyway.
Now I have one tiny problem with where the problem-child (sorry, the bringer of doom known as 'the Vessel') decided to be. There is nothing in the letter stating the meeting point, besides the general location of it. Since I don't have anything to do, and I would rather be somewhere far, far away from anyone in this place, I go to a place further away.
My walk led to a part of the library where the bookshelves end on a wall and the only thing left there is a stand and a spider's web gently touching the furniture and the ceiling at the same time. I don't see any spiders, though.
A lonely place for myself anywhere is bliss, so I sit on the cold floor and pick up one of my books and start reading to pass the time: "Ao Verme que primeiro roeu as frias carnes do meu cadáver dedico como saudosas lembranças estas Memórias Póstumas/ To the Maggot who first gnashed the cold meat of my corpse I dedicate as nostalgic memories these Posthumous Memoirs."
What a graceful line! Just as good as the first time I read it last year. The narrator who doesn't care about the reader at all, the irony dripping at the footnote of each page like the ex-slave beating another slave, the chapters who break molds of what chapters should be like, the one about how he didn't become the minister of state and many others. Such good memories for such a pessimistic book, a form of getting back home like no other…
Well, the awful reality of XIXth imperial Brazil, with slavery and nobility… is it really the home that you grew up in? A place with a lot of misery and social divide?
I shook my head. I don't need any of these memories. I can't afford them for now.
"Hey, where were you this whole time? I was searching through this whole library until I found you here in the farthest end of a place where nobody has appeared in a whole decade." With the bravado of an annoyed person who was stuck in the longest waiting line of the world thus spoke Robin… Reflet.
"I didn't find you anywhere, and your invitation didn't tell us where we should have met instead." I look at the person staring down at me and then return to my book
"Don't do that! Besides, you should have stayed at the gates. Aren't you capable of waiting?" She tries to stare at me, I avert her gaze. I shouldn't enter a staring competition with her.
"There wasn't anything in the invitation telling me to do that."
"Huh.. huh.. you got a point" She stops staring and being angry at me, looking at the ground in shame, an awkward atmosphere taking hold for a minute that felt like an hour of silence between us.
"So, where did you plan this whole meeting to be…?" I break the silence with my undecided-sounding voice, the lingering question traveling through the air
"Well, since you asked… just wait a bit, alright?" She looks to the side, rolling her eyes, a little bit of sweat falling down her face as if she was found murdering someone and is trying to get away to end this whole mess and find the answer to the one million dollar question.
"Ok..." what are you planning, lady?
"Sorry,'" She waves her hand and trails from under her palm, then my mind snaps into darkness immediately.
Why have I put my faith in the vessel controlled by Validar of all people?
The soft texture hugs me like a kind mother to her children. A little warm to the touch, the saliva almost getting out of the mouth but stopped by the mixture of sleep and wakefulness, little forms indistinguishable from one another forming in the space leading to nowhere but the blankness of a dreamless nap.
The room burned red in its contents, a carmine colored mist covered the room, little spark coming out of nowhere igniting the air, despite having no near-visible fire source. A blood-red scarlet tapestry adorns the walls at all sides with a geometrical composition of hexagons and religious phrasing ("May the world be blessed with a new end"). Torches strategically placed to lighten the place surrounded me. The desk is carved with some triangular runes and the mark of Grima, a few books there and on the side, my bag touching it.
"Where am I?" I ask, my voice coming out a little off, my world trailing of just like of a drunk
"You are in a special place: the guest room!" Robin giggles, the feeling she had practiced hours to say this one line not lost to me
"Whose?" A little drowsiness still dominates my voice.
"The Fells'!"
"The Fells'… I see. Where is it?" Any intel is good to know, even if you are speaking with the daughter of the guy who wants to end the world.
"Secret." All the happiness radiating from her shuts down and a serious tone overtakes. Ok, let's tread carefully.
Life is one of the "greatest" things of all time: sometimes it leads you to a battle, others to being the special guest of the sect that wants to destroy the world. Well, at least they have some nice tapestry here.
I lift myself and do some stretches. I feel a little bit of soreness, but nothing alarming
"Ok, did you pick up anything inside the bag?" I return to the fluffiness of the pillow
"Of course not, you don't pick up the stuff of your guest after all!" She states with indignation, a pout coming to her face.
"Good" I whisper to myself. Thank God she decided not to pick up anything of mine. I shiver at the thought of explaining the glass and metal box called cellphone
"So, before we can start anything, what does ok mean?" Doubt comes from her face, a curiosity brimming inside her eyes.
"Well...ok, how can I phrase this?" I try my best, but it slips before I even notice.
"You did it again!" She laughs a little bit at my stupid answer.
"Ok," I had this wonderful idea.
"Are you going to just keep saying 'ok'?" The pout returns and turns into an annoyed look. She would rather do something else rather than question the meaning of the foregoing word
"Yes," I smile just a bit. She may be the Vessel, but at the moment it doesn't seem she is going to kill me.
"I think I've got the meaning down," She says pensive, one of her hands touching her chin like the Thinker.
"Ok, so what do you want to do?" After all, I doubt she would go to this place without thinking about anything beforehand.
"Well, maybe we could share a little bit of literature. I have brought the books I like the most. And you?" She didn't think this
"Hmmm…well, the books are in the bag, just let me get up," I detach myself from the blissful heaven of these pillows to grab my backpack.
"One question?" A little doubt creeping into my mind if I should ask the question or not
"Yes?"
"How did you bring me here?"
"Once you'd fallen asleep, I picked up your body and took you here. You are very light."
Another note is taken: I will not win in a fistfight against her. Or anyone else here, for that matter.
"Noted" I pick up the bag, open it, pick up some of the books, and put them on the table.
"Wait, where is Brás Cubas?" Panics comes to me, my voice rasping. Please don't tell me I have lost my book, please.
"You mean the book with a picture on the cover?" She shows me my little precious book with the Blue and black letters, and on the cover, it says the name of the author and the title of the book respectively. Also, there is a painting of two victorian men staring at each other.
"Yes, that one" Peace returns to my mind. I feel so relieved I even pant for a bit there.
"So the name of the book is Brás Cubas. Never thought the letters of your people would be so blocky." She utters with an air of curiosity as to why such weird markings.
"They are the letters of the Latin alphabet." She doesn't know Latin. I wonder how I will explain to her the name of the alphabet without saying about the Roman Empire.
"Hmmm, can you teach me?" Her eyes glimmer at me, waiting for the obvious answer.
"I can, but let's start this already," I don't think we can waste our entire time on nothing.
"Ok, I have decided what part of my literature to talk about, but I think it can wait for a moment. So tell me what this Brahs Kubbas is all about."
Reflet and I sit side by side to see the book.
"Well, first of all, you see the blue letters?" I point to the name.
"Yes?"
"This is the name of the author: Machado de Assis. And the title under is the full name of the book: Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas."
"Maxhado de Aziz," She tries to say the name but fails. Still, I think it's not bad for someone who has never heard Portuguese once in her entire life, "Can you translate the title?"
"It means… post... death memoir.. of Bras Cubás" I stumble a little bit, forgetting the corresponding word for the title.
"Post-death? How can someone publish something after death?" Doubt creeps in her mind for the curious name of the title
"Well, the character is dead, but he decides to tell his life to everyone," I give her, her face becoming stiff as her mind tries to process this paradoxical information.
"But he is already dead!" She explodes once she understands the meaning, confusion coming to her face as she ponders the consequences of such an action.
"But this is literature, not reality. Do you want me to tell you of the book or not?"
"Fine, you win this one. Tell me about this book," she crosses her arms.
"It talks about the life of the titular Character Brás Cubas and his critics about the society of the time. It's great, but I doubt you would understand it."
"Then read me a snippet of the book aloud!" Daring today, huh? Let's see if you understand it.
I blaze through the pages and find a snippet I love very much "Here. Uhm...capítulo XLII:
...Como que este capítulo escapou a Aristóteles?/How did this chapter escaped from Aristotle?" A lovely chapter with a lovely end, Still how it escaped Machado de Assis this reading?
"I didn't mean literally, you doofus." She doesn't look as annoyed as I thought. Probably interested in the sound of my language.
"I did what you asked though."
"Huh… you got a point. But your language sounded so... so soft. It isn't as poetic as Plegian, but it felt as soft as this pillow..."
The other Bilac would probably be very pissed about hearing this, but dead poets can't smack people for not saying their language is poetic enough. Sorry, Olavo, nothing personal, but there is no A Útima Flor do Lácio/ The Last Flower of the Latium here.
"Besides this one, do you have any other?"
"I have some, just let me pick them up from the bag."
I put it above the table, the grey modern design of the backpack sticking like a sore thumb against the decade of the shades of dark red of this part of the world. I open the contents of the bag to the world and let the burned atmosphere soak the inner contents.
"I've noticed you aren't really of this world."
Oh no...
"Hmm?" I try to ignore the question as if nothing had happened at all.
"You said once before that you are a foreigner from another part of the world. I already know that. But looking at your stuff makes me wonder, are you even from any part of here?"
"Well, I would love to tell you, but I don't think my answer would be satisfactory." Damage control is not very effective when the whole building is already burning down.
"So pompous. Spill it out! Are you from this world or not!?" She grabs my robes and stares down at me like a predator. Please stop staring at me.
"Well, well, do you believe me to be in your world?" With all the calmness I have left, I try not to break my indifferent face
"Why do you avoid such questions? It's an easy 'yes or no'!" Eu tô muito ferrado/ I am so screwed.
"I am not from Ylisse, as I said before, but from another continent entirely," Please another matter, please.
"What is the name of the continent?" Your Hellish Thing, please stop!
"America" Seu idiota!/ You idiot!
"Never heard of America."
"Well, you see this in a place far away from here."
"Where!?"
"Secret." Two of us can play the same game
"Spill out, please" I will stand at my ground.
"Another time..." I stand against her glare.
"please"
"no"
"Don't tell me then"
"I will not share like it or not"
"HUh" Giving me another pout seeing my rather state of non-collaboration, she stops groping my robes and directs her attention to something else.
"Let's talk about some Plegian literature, shall we?" She looks at her pile, untouched by the two of us. A little tug comes to my heart.
"I don't see why not."
She picks up a book with a green cover and the title printed on a gold line with a small illustration of an island.
"Good. First off, here is the book is known as 'The Journey of The Scorpion and The Peacock'. It's a story about an assassin and sailor, stuck in two boats going on an adventure in the middle of the sea. I just love how they describe the little island they visit, the green of nature..."
Her excitement is tangible. She speaks every single word with a spike, doing little ups and downs, sometimes the words mix with each into one long word. I can barely filter what she is properly saying.
"Have you ever seen that?" She turns to see my reaction.
"Everyday," a little tear flowing down from my eyes. The place where I lived wasn't very green. It was more grey despite the beaches, but to me, they were as vibrant as the one in the amazon rainforest, filling in the sun and wasting my time reading or with the piano…
Qunato saudades tenho daquele lugar/ How much nostalgia I have from that place.
She pats my head "Don't be so sad."
"Sorry, I couldn't hold myself," I pass my hands through my face and rub it, "You see? Just fine." and I let her hand return to the Plegian book.
"So tell me, is the world this green outside of Plegia?" There is nothing playful about her voice, just a dumb simple question.
"Yeah, it is. Didn't your father travel with you to other places?" A rhetorical question, I know very well what the answer will be.
"Not really. I was born somewhere north from here." She gives me her life, barely any emotion on her face.
"So this is your first time being to another place?" A dumb question, I know.
"That is a secret," She tries to avoid my face.
"Hmm," I would rather not to pry on other people's lives very much.
"Also, can you teach me your alphabet?" Of course, she breaks the rather downtrodden atmosphere.
"I don't see why not. Do you have any piece of paper?" I would have something like that.
"Hold on for a moment" She gives me a random piece of paper with nothing scribbled. I pick up the ink pen and start writing the shapes of the Latin alphabet (cursive, of course) and write the 26 letters and make their sounds to Robin, the diacritic the infamous "ão" and the c cedilla.
"Here are the letters. We write them left from right, rather right from left."
"Show me then."
I write my name down. Let's see how well she does.
"Here is my name." I wrote the old curves down so many times, it became a second memory to me, with a rather simple rhythm of ones and twos, keeping the forms somewhat readable, "Gabriel."
" Ghabrrrirr...I think I've got this somewhat correct."
Nope. Way too guttural to be Portuguese.
"Not even in the slightest" I keep looking indifferent.
She becomes puzzled, "Huh, but I've read just what you wrote down."
"Remember, I am not the only one with an accent in the world. Just try to mimic the sounds I make with my mouth. One, two...Gabriel."
"GrabriEER"
"Close enough, I guess. You don't even know a single word of português, though"
"So that was the name of your language."
Why my mind let slip words that backfire at me
"So teach me a little about your language. As much as I love plegian, I am rather interested in another language. Dad never let me do that, but I don't think he will care about this one."
"Ok, let's start with some of the basics…"
" I never thought it would be so hard! Reading the ancient texts is a breeze compared to this mess..."
"Why do verbs go in the middle? Why not at the beginning like a normal language? Why aren't there isn't gender for verbs? Why do the words not follow any logic? And whatever hell is up with those two verbs 'ser' and 'estar'?"
''Congratulations! Welcome to learning a new language!" I reply to her little rant.
"Why is it so hard?!"
"You never even heard a single sentence in Português before. Why would you think you would get in only a few sentences, and some words?"
"I am the vessel of Grima! Of course, I am capable of doing everything right!"
"Still doesn't mean anything to mean. You will get better in due time, though. And even then, for a complete beginner, you are pretty-"
"Reflet, where are you?" A female voice resonated through the farthest side of the room. that was a nice afternoon but now someone has appeared, and prepare yourself Gabriel this will be a mess. Robin's mouth falls flat to the ground as her "careful plan" fails at her very own eyes, some will appear and I doubt They will not care about me and probably send me to the real dungeon. As I can't quite get out of this place in time to not being, I fall down to the ground and try to hide behind the desk
"Where were you? What were you doing, little lady?" The tall lady asked while looking down at us.
"Well sis, we... I mean, I was reading some books?"
Oh Robin, why!?
"Why, then, in the guest room? Besides, I can see the little rascal behind you." She is glaring at me, Help!
"What little rascal? It was only me this whole time!" She ignores what the woman said before. Reflet, please, this won't work!
"Humm, it seems you invited the little rascal who decided to approach you while millions lamented the death of your savior, You are way too easy to read." Robin finally dawns and enters into a panic until a good answer comes to her head.
"Well, what if I told you I invited him?" Why did you have to do that!?
"Why did you invite him here?" She inquires, then confidence comes to Reflet and,
almost like a rocket, she responds.
"He was more interesting than everyone in that whole room."
The person counter-attacks with an obvious question, "What makes him so interesting?"
"A good question…" Reflet trails off. You are not doing yourself a great favor by asking this, Robin. I decide to take action in the middle of this circumstance.
I lift myself and, ignoring her petrifying gaze, I give my answer "Before anything, she led me here and started the conversation both times."
She prepares her hands and a little spark of magic comes out to form strands of electricity, I don't flinch, despite going a little bit far away from her "Shut up! You must not shut the holy vessel-"
Loud Growl thunders across the air, "Calm down SIS! He is only here because of me. Don't be rude to him! He didn't even mock me once! Please be kind, Gabriel here is a guest, and you don't curse your guests 'Versa."
She glares at her and stops forming the electricity, a mildly annoyed look on her face, "I will do as you wish."
A tense atmosphere travels through the burned down the air of the place, one of the lights burning out, leaving me and Aversa to stare at each other.
"Good, you will be great friends! So, here. Gabriel, Aversa. Aversa, Gabriel." She keeps a cheerful façade, in an attempt to stop Aversa from killing me and genuine happiness stemming from both of your meetings as she breaks the awkwardness of this sudden meeting.
"Nice to meet you" She keeps glaring at me, her voice having the roughness of a bad-shaped rock. Not subtle at all.
"Nice to meet you," I fidget my fingers trying to disperse all the energy while looking away from her.
"See? It wasn't so hard!" Robin I don't think this is how starting a friendship works! A bashful smile ignoring all the context comes to her
"So, why were you here, Gabriel?" Why does everyone associated with Fells try to discover why I am here?
"Well, I am Tharja's assistant." Aversa looks at me funny, he hand raise again to prepare an attack
"Tharja? The Fatimid one?" The question in the form of an ultimatum is sent if I am loyal to one of her allies. One wrong answer and I can consider myself a dead man, answering no will probably lead me to death, and yes also will lead me to death, for thinking I am lying. Damn if you will damn if you don't
"Yes."
"I never thought Ibrahim of all people would allow foreigners to be around one of his daughters. What did he see in you to let you work for her?" She keeps her hand raised, readying herself for an attack at any moment, a growl sculpted to her face.
"Ma'am, I don't know. Don't ask. I was living with them, being their servant, and one day I became her retainer," I only state the facts, this war not being won by hidden intentions.
"What a curious story." Purple lightning starts to come out of hearing, spreading through the air like spiderwebs being interwoven, only now I notice the tome in her other hand, I guess death always finds a way to kill me.
Robin intervenes by grabbing Aversa's hand to stop the attack from happening, the electricity fizzling out of existence. With the cracking sound of almost broken bones spreading through the air, a perplexed look comes from Aversa. Reflet gives her a chilling glare, any trace of happiness replaced by the frozen of death announcing Aversa's sentence. The vessel is ready to kill.
A gasp comes to Aversa's face, horrified eyes pleading her to stop. Instead of stopping she increases the chokehold, a bright red color appears in the dark pale grey skin of Aversa. Reflet gives me her hand, therefore giving me a turn… I guess. Robin stops the choking, as Aversa puts down her hand, holding with another as agony comes to her face. A false smile comes to her as she tries not to frown at me and her ached hand. The vessel brims another jovial smile as if nothing happened. I flinch at that smile and sound
"And Miss, why are you here in the first place?" I try to not cringe at her pain, but any intel is valuable, so let's see what Aversas has to say abo.
"You see, Validar is like a father to me. He took me in when my village was destroyed by that Barbarous Ylissean. Saved me. Gave me a new home where I could live a new life. And for that, I am very thankful." She sincerely says, her eyes are blissful ignorance about talking about Validar, to the point of forgetting the status of her twisted hand.
"Hmmm, I see. Understandable," Is that reality or not? I would love to tell her it was a well-constructed lie, but at this point, it very well might be the truth. As some might say, forget and let live for today…
"Hope you at least have a nice life with him." I hope this will diffuse the situation somewhat, giving a small smile.
"Of course I have a nice life. He brought me to the one true path towards salvation," Aversa states, annoyed for even daring to say I hoped.
"Don't be so hyperbolic 'Versa, He's our dad, but I don't think he would like us to be so fanatical towards him."
Are you sure about that?
"Well, if that's the case, who am I to judge?" I shrug off as I don't have enough clues to do any kind of research on the topic. After all, I doubt the records will show any of that happening. Only a few small towns are lucky to even be a footnote in a book.
"Sorry, Reflet. As much as I would like to keep talking about my savior, we have some matters of utmost importance to talk about, rather than some random thing you find interesting." Good, rather be some random than someone in the crosshairs of this sect.
"Just one thing, sis. I have to escort him back to the library. So could you please go ahead of me? I promise it won't take that long."
Aversa frowns at the request, but acquiesce for the time being " Then I shall go first. But please, don't bring some random person without asking me beforehand."
"I promise," Robin puts her hand on her chest and the other in the air making her promise while stuffing her chest.
"Good," she gets up and goes to the exit, she is still clutching her hand in pain. And only then I escaped from her grasp. I can't wait to be back in my dungeon.
"Well, Reflet, it was very nice despite this little 'meeting'," I don't even try to hide my 'enthusiasm', I break my stoic face and give her a frown.
"Don't worry about sis. She isn't always so rude. I doubt she likes foreigners though. I will try to change her mind about the subject."
"OK. Anyway, how are we going back?"
She only looks at me in the eyes and says "Sorry".
Oh no.
And my world turns black again. Why did I think it would be any different?
I wake up on a soft cushion, I can barely see anything, but the mattress carries me to the fluffy clouds of heavens.
I lift part of my body and keep looking around.
Oh, she has put me on my bed in my little dungeon… oh god!
I get up from the bed and go as fast as a torpedo towards the door and lock with all my force. More time of killing and I would be very dead.
A small note lies upon my desk, hastily made with sploshing of tint and with some wrinkles to boot.
"Sorry for my sudden usage of magic. The conversation with sis could have been a lot better. Also thank you for sharing a little of your culture. As you said your people say, Muito Obrigada.
Reflet Fell
Oh, you Reflet. Still, what a day.
Well since the day already ended, let's write for a little bit. What could I write after all?
And that was chapter VII for Detachment. Thanks to Cavik and TheBobcat18 for beta reading this chapter. I hope this chapter was better than last and everyone enjoyed, even for a little bit. I am still struggling to see if my fic is any good, but I thank you for the continued support for this fic, also my grammar still sucks. I also participate in a discord server, here is the link: discord .gg/9XG3U7a
WhiteVolder: I sadly don't speak Russian, so I am trusting DeepL to translate the message for me. Thank you for the kinds word, I am glad you are liking so far. and if DeepL is right: I don't know what will be my next story after this one, after all, I am focused on this fic right now. if it meant chapter, the chapter is here, and I hope you like it. But anyway, thank you for your support.
jonathan11197: Thank you, Glad to see you are liking so far.