Complete darkness beyond the dwelling. So dense it seemed not a background but emptiness, as if the world ended at the mansion's walls. As if this entire island was a theater with a single set piece.
Take a step and fall. Take a step and you're gone, just you and this enveloping nothingness.
The night was frightening, almost the same as back then. Rain, relentlessly drumming on the glass, as if trying to reach inside. And wind, sharp as someone else's gaze. Just another night on the island, that's all. And this "that's all" was becoming too weighty.
But all this somehow vanished at once.
Shouts. Yahweh's shouts, he was running to us holding a book, and behind him Hov. Unhurried, like a shadow of himself, they were together. They were no longer part of the background, they became part of the action. From this moment we were gathered.
Everyone. And together, to untangle another riddle left by the witch. This was my chance. Not just a chance, my first chance. No, not "my," his, to prove not myself, to prove him.
I looked away to the side, he sat to my right, Morgana to the left. If I were someone else... someone who considers Enua guilty, I would...
I would, looking into his eyes, understand he can't be guilty. Sometimes, to understand everything, you don't need words, you just need to look. Look and feel.
And yet... I couldn't rid myself of memories. The witch's move. That moment. I saw it, if I stop believing my eyes, what's even worth believing in then.
Why did I accept it as truth then? Why didn't I suspect an illusion? And Gerudo, not a copy, not a phantom, not a puppet. He was real. His body, his voice, his gaze, everything was real. This wasn't a lie, this wasn't deception. And yet...
I can't simply feel. I need to know, guilt isn't determined by the heart. It requires facts, and I have none at all.
So our only path is to translate the symbols, solve the riddle. In this and only this, a chance. The only one, like the last match in a storm.
The next hour we'll spend on this, each of us. We're in one room, in each other's sight. The night should pass calmly, today no one should die.
We agreed, if someone needs a drink, Cheryl and Morgana will handle it. The need, well, that one, also not a problem. One of the servants will go with you.
And since the moment presented itself, I decided...
"Do you practice any martial arts?"
She turned to me. Gaze direct, even too much.
"Huh?"
"Do you practice any martial arts?" I repeated.
"I heard you the first time. Just... why this?"
"Ah... just curious. You can stand up for yourself, I thought maybe you're trained?"
"Can't say we were specifically prepared. But can't say we don't know how either."
An answer... strange, as if she simultaneously wants to say everything and nothing.
"Hey, lovebirds, enough chatting," Yahweh's voice rang out. "Better help us here!"
Morgana flushed. I saw, looked specifically. Can't smile, but hard to restrain.
"Come over, Hov and I found something," Yahweh added.
We approached and saw.
Hundreds, no, thousands of hieroglyphs. So tiny they seemed to refuse to be seen. Not written by hand, as if imprinted by time.
And opposite each one a translation, immediately into several languages, ours among them. Don't know if this is luck or another witch's move.
"Excellent. All that's left is to gather the needed ones and connect them."
Sounds simple. In reality searching among thousands of symbols for the right one, again and again. A hundred times.
"This could take far more time than we expected," Kamiki said.
"Then we need a plan," Yahweh.
"Any ideas?" Hov.
"What if..." Tiamut pondered. "What if the book isn't the only one?"
Silence.
Everyone looked at her. One thought and immediately a chain reaction.
"Copies," Kamiki nodded.
"But are there any? We searched through many books, not a single similar one."
"What if he wrote so small because he wasn't planning to make copies?" Hov.
"I'll support that. He could have simply written everything in another book, but he didn't do that. Why write microscopically?" Yahweh added.
"Then... let's just tear it and divide it," Tiamut calmly suggested.
"You're serious?!" Yahweh was indignant. "And you call this 'just'?"
"Are there other options?" Tiamut.
"We don't know what consequences this might entail," Yahweh grew wary, which, truth be told, everyone should have done.
"Will there even be any?" Kamiki.
Yahweh glanced at him. The same one, always relaxed, slightly strange, slightly alien. Smiling.
"One thing's a grimoire. Another's an ordinary book."
And... he tears, just takes and tears. Sheets fly like plucked from a branch.
"What are you waiting for?" Kamiki said with the same smile. "Dig in."
Silence.
Movement.
"What a brute," Cheryl whispered.
"I'd be lying if I said I liked this," Morgana added.
"But it's faster. And the book, alas, no one needs."
I turned to Morgana, something's wrong. I felt it, shouldn't have said that.
"She... got upset? Why?" I whispered.
"She got upset not because of the words," Cheryl explained. "But because of the action."
"Is it important?"
"Not important. But... Gerudo-sama often came here, dusted. For him it was important," he explained. "Morgana once saw him carefully, almost paternally, wiping books. He promised himself to visit the library, in memory of the first master."
Now I understood why she got upset. Why the words and actions hurt her.
"I should apologize."
"As you wish," Cheryl said coldly.
But Morgana was no longer nearby.
She left?!
I bolted from the room, shouts behind me, for a second. Then silence, I can't allow her to be alone, not now.
What if the witch? What if it's a trap?
But... she was just sitting on the stairs, hunched over. With her head lowered to her knees.
Alone.
I sat next to her.
"Sorry. It's because of me."
Silence, but not deaf. I was about to stand, but felt... warmth. Her palm, on my hand, like sudden summer amid prolonged winter.
I swallowed. She was looking at me, cheeks reddened. Hand trembling, not letting go.
"Tell me... you will take revenge on the witch, won't you?" she asked in a trembling voice. "He didn't do anything, he didn't participate. He just... was, why did she kill him?! Why... Aragi!!"
She screamed, cried. Right here, next to me. I understood, understood how painful this was.
"I will kill her, and avenge Gerudo."
She hugged me tightly, too tightly. That's how you hug not from tenderness but from fear of losing. As if I was her last anchor, the only thing left to hold onto.
I carefully took her face in my palms and lifted it. Eyes were in tears, eyelashes stuck together, cheeks reddened, not from cold. She looked straight at me, not looking away, as if waiting for a decision. I leaned in and kissed her.
For a second I expected her to pull away, but she remained. Responded the same, uncertainly but sincerely, as if afraid to be late. Her hands squeezed tighter, breath faltered. In this moment everything around lost meaning. Thoughts vanished, time too. There was no yesterday, no later, no reasons, no consequences.
Only we remained. Here and now.
But in another reality, where seconds passed as usual, Yahweh's voice called us again. They found something, as if the story continued its movement.
Whether we want it or not.