…Discomfort…
…It's a discomfort again… What is it now?.. Can't a person just sleep properly?! Let alone get a good sleep?! Huh?..
She cracked open one eye.
…Oh… This is bad, you know…
Really, really bad… There's a large shadow here… Something… is standing over us...
Ugh… A spirit?! Aaaaaa!!!
Ami's whole body jumped, and… she tumbled off her makeshift bed made from a pile of chairs, ending up on the floor.
She winced and curled up in pain, gasping for air in agony. Her heart skipped a beat for a moment and stopped… only to start pounding again with furious intensity.
…What is this?! Gnats! That clutching feeling again…
And the numb arm won't reach my chest.
…What, what is that shadow?!..
…Crawl, run, just get out of here, save ourselves!
Wait… Those… spirit's boots. They look… suspiciously familiar.
And actually… this isn't our kotti.
But we know this place for sure… What's… going on?
…One more… nightmare? Or… not?
Curiosity overcame fear and doubt, and Amelia cautiously let her gaze travel first over everything above the boots and then over her surroundings.
She exhaled angrily.
– Milo! I almost… died!! Literally! You're a bog-dweller, mud-muncher…
– Hey, easy now.
– …Pfft!…
Snorting angrily again and shaking her head, the servicewoman realised with relief that she was... in the Station.
And the scariest thing she might encounter here… she'd just encountered.
Could catch her breath now.
…How… did he even find her in this corner?! The hat-wearing oaf… Ugh…
What strange talent is this, appearing when you're not wanted and where you're not wanted?? And why does Ami suffer from it and not some Omillian wrongdoer?
– Helping Leivy out here? – The cause of the commotion inquired innocently.
"He's clearly enjoying this."
Is he? You think so? Then no need to apologise.
"You're lucky their subordination rules are so lax here."
Lucky. Back home, they'd have smeared me against the wall for less.
"Yes."
– Hardly… Leivy doesn't need any help… – the servicewoman rasped, half-conciliatory, rubbing her numb arm and squatting down. – …More like trying to help myself… to add some variety to my personal life... Haven't had nightmares here before, you know.
– Well… and how's it going?
Phew, bogs… Well, I'm wide awake now.
Even the usual dawn sore throat had vanished with the fright. Talk about shock therapy.
"Temporary effect."
Yes, still need to see Kiona.
– Not great… At Finnian's Archives, at least they have cushions; here I have to bring everything myself. – The Secretary grumbled, getting to her feet. – Hard to judge from one go… Unseal my cubbyhole for me… Please. I'll finish sleeping in there.
Milo smirked.
– Alright. But bear in mind, even if no one shows up all light, I'll come and wake you myself. Need to pick up something from my office, and then I'll need a new selection of documents…
– Fine, fine… – The Templar winced in annoyance, touching her sleep-creased cheek disapprovingly. – Remind me. Are you always the first to appear at work?
– No. Sometimes Moki is first. Or Talla. Morning creatures.
Having unsealed the Archive, the boss and subordinate, without a word, headed for the coffee table. The Head Officer began diligently tidying everyone's favourite spot, preparing it for the influx of the others.
Yes, sleep was interrupted, but this light, Amelia wouldn't miss the one truly pleasant start to the day. The communal coffee gathering with biscuits.
The Secretary, grabbing her trusty green-stained cup, lazily emerged from the darkness of her cubbyhole, trying to arrange her face into an expression that was, if not friendly, then at least not a grim ghoul's. Besides Milo, perfectly innocent, normal people could appear here at any moment.
She prepared to watch the coffee-making process attentively, now with fresh, practical interest.
– Lucille used to arrive at the same time as me. She'd do all this. And brew excellent coffee. – The Chief accompanied his actions with words, smiling slyly, sweeping the used coffee grounds into a nearby technical container.
"Still not giving up hope."
– Yes, yes, and we're all eagerly awaiting her return… – Amelia yawned sceptically, coughing involuntarily.
– Been to Kiona?
Amelia waved dismissively.
– No.
– What are you waiting for?
– For it to all just fall off on its own.
– Have it your way… What brought you here at night?
"He won't stop until he finds out."
This one? Yeah.
– Sleepiness. Got out of the Witchium late. Realised going home was pointless… Since I have to go back so… soooon. – She yawned again.
The boss, still fussing with the coffee, nodded.
– And? Find anything… interesting there?
– Loads! But practically nothing related to the case…
Milo peered inquisitively into his cup. Apparently, he considered it half full because he grunted with satisfaction and continued the conversation.
– Has Finnian begun to train you?
– Yes.
– Was it successful?
– Well… it's not fast, you know.
– True. Have you got "homework"?
– Sure. To wipe windows. To fight the darkness of prejudice. To be fair, Finnian can't really teach me anything yet. He sends me to Kiona to fix some internal blocks and so on. Need to go there anyway… But theeeen… I'll start wiping windows everywhere. It'll be… an age of enlightenment! Or illumination… Not sure; haven't decided yet.
The Head Officer shook his head doubtfully in response to Ami's post-dawn improvised rambling.
– Ambitious. Kantian arrogance in action.
– Well, why hold back… By then I'll be able to heat my own coffee and will be unstoppable and capable of anything.
– In that case, it's a good thing training at the Witchium isn't quick. Our Archive is relatively safe. At least it won't have time to become completely transparent.
"We're chatting today, aren't we? Scared workers and happy ghouls. So be it."
"Be careful, though. I don't trust his generosity. He's a quick-witted, sharp-minded swamper, who feels great at this early hour. The Force is on his side right now."
Sandra is on his side too. Gave him extra people, and it seems to have eased his mind. That's why he's so "generous" this light.
– Yes. All we're threatened with is me smashing every single tablet one by one. Before I happily head home.
– To cause chaos there? – Milo smirked innocently.
– Yes. Until they finally exile me. Our houses aren't designed for wiping. Just imagine… Holes in the walls after the stems inside burn out. No one would approve it. Actually, what's happened is truly amazing… Imagine. You live your whole life like an ordinary one. Of course, everyone knows inside it's not true; you can't cheat your soul. But outwardly, everything looks more or less decent... And then you're diagnosed one light. And everything loses any sense and gets a new one.
– A true wonder is that Finnian didn't kill you and also didn't file a complaint.
– And even enrolled me as a student. – Ami reminded. – I have a talent… for making an impression on people.
– Sure you do.
The deadly sleepy "night" Ami was starting to come alive in the morning. And even talk. Even with people she probably shouldn't.
Now that was truly surprising.
Anyway… It's time to retreat. Really.
The coffee was ready, and the swamp-ghoul was ready to say something nasty. Amelia had no resources left for more pointless and obviously losing confrontations.
Grabbing her trophy, she quickly dived into the darkness of her workplace.
And felt the sleepiness pounce on her with double force in the gloom.
Yawning, and with it coughing in a now-familiar way, the Secretary sank weakly into her work chair, slumping lifelessly across its surface.
…Right now, she needed a little light more than ever. But there was none.
The non-witch hopelessly passed her hand over the lamp.
…Nothing. Nothing… surprising. Well…
That would have been too good for her. And unbelievable, in addition.
…Next, it would surely turn out that she wasn't actually a perpetually gloomy, absurdly awkward Kantinian grower muttering something, but a gorgeous Selva with a pleasant velvety voice. Impatiently awaited by a crowd of elves outside. Or no… she is an elf herself and…
Amelia shuddered involuntarily.
Seems she'd started falling asleep sitting up again without noticing. The monotonous hum of voices from the Hall greatly contributed.
The other sleepy Station residents had already gathered around the coffee table, eager to get closer to the life-giving source of one of Ami's newly acquired harmful Omillian addictions.
…Speaking of which!…
One lovely, ringing, and completely beautiful sound from the Hall reached her through all the other sounds. It pierced her soul right away and shattered it into pieces of painful joy.
…Ke-leee!!!
Isn't it a bit early for them to have let him out?! Never mind! Kiona knows best who's healthy and who's not… Not too early! For Ami's selfishness, it's a perfect time.
The question of whether to go for a refill or not answered itself. Along with the sleep, the tiredness, and the actual need for a refill.
…Life is starting anew! Here it is, energy! Plentiful, tasty, and filling. And without coffee.
"The crash will get you anyway."
That'll come later.
Grabbing her cup, Amelia shot out of the cubbyhole in an instant.
Towards the blinding light of the Hall and an even more blindingly beautiful sight, which, unfortunately, after saluting her, briskly hobbled off towards its office.
Amelia nodded energetically in return, hurrying to the table with feigned businesslike purpose.
…Never mind. He won't be going anywhere beyond the Station anytime soon. He won't even be joining the forest patrols anymore.
That's for the best. He'll be stuck here in confinement along with her.
Arriving at these comforting conclusions and approaching the cheerful group of officers, the Secretary… had her cup taken away from her that very instant.
She wasn't going to protest, first because the vessel had ended up in Elsu's enormous hands, and second, because the caring giantess had already poured her coffee. She had even begun warming it to what she considered the ideal temperature. Such caring attention.
Hmm. Elsu liked it hot. That's for the best. It'll cool down slower.
Now all the unnatural sources of energy were gathered, and Ami would soon have to pay for them with sleepiness and sadness. And a second cup of coffee almost always led to mood swings later on.
Oh well. So be it. Such is the cycle of Amelia's life.
No gain without loss. No rise without a fall. No joy without sorrow.
And no smooth stretches in sight here.
The main thing is not to be a perfectionist. It's unaffordable right now. Let's just peacefully greet the mistakes and blunders.
Addictions may be "costly", but they help get through difficult periods. Periods you can't just "skip over". Such as life lessons. They aren't meant to be fun.
They're here to make you think, "Am I developing correctly?" and "Were the given lights and bestowed talents used rationally?" "Were the costs accounted for, and were the counterbalances correctly chosen?"
The fun part here is you creating yourself. To compensate for this "educational" burden. Sooner or later you'll have to "fool around" in some area anyway. And it's preferable to do it the way you want rather than the way you have to, when your tired mind, in self-preservation mode, will already be spiralling into all kinds of excesses.
If only superficial Amelia fully knew what some of her subconscious parts know. She would at least leave her part of the world alone. And simply enjoy a delicious drink and good company. Without transporting herself into a gloomy past or a foggy future. Which, no doubt, would also contain some pleasant things, which Kantinian, who used to multiface physical and emotional deprivation in many matters, would habitually ignore.
The strongest incentives don't go unnoticed anyway. They have already started working. Now, visiting the Station will be much more interesting.
Even though she would probably keep sleeping through the other dawn meetings and the beautiful Selva would only show up near her work very rarely.
"More often than it has been or will be in Kantine."
Let's not be gloomy. Not when there's still coffee in the cup, and these cackling swamp-dwellers haven't dispersed to their offices yet.
There'll always be a reason for gloom. Sometimes it unexpectedly likes to form from a reason for joy. Just think of past relationshipies.
There was plenty of gloom over failures, rejections, and the accompanying feeling of being unwanted. But not much joy over formed relationshipies later either. Not getting them was sad; getting them was also sad in the end.
Getting Kele, of course, is unattainable… but it would be insanely great. And then what? Most likely, the same story.
"Sour grapes."
Healthier fare than sweet illusions.
And now, with promising life prospects like training and becoming a witch on the horizon, using this method became much easier and more convenient. Another failure wouldn't hit self-esteem very hard and won't turn all feelings inside out with a monstrous force. There was something else holding self-worth and the fabric of reality together.
It will still be painful for sure, but it'll do. Until something better comes along.
Some amusements of one's own, completely independent of external circumstances.
Which aren't even there to please you or serve you.
Even if they are nice enough to do it. And thanks to all of them for making this light start more than nice. If we don't count the dramatic wake-up call from Milo that nearly cost her sanity and life…
Gnats take him. And may the Universe bless all these wonderful people and everything happening.
Ami has grown very attached to them. The best people on the Mainland.
Withdrawal from them will be almost unbearable. But the happiness of the lights here was worth it, and it's good that there was a therapeutic experience of being accepted without judgement.
Amelia was accustomed to clinging to the past and passing, to the familiar and tried, whether joyful or sad. To dig her claws into the fabric of reality, distorting it with a death grip. To cling to the layers of other people's worlds, which have the audacity to live and want to move in their own direction. To sit in a desperate embrace with her own mirages, wasting a huge amount of strength and time on it.
That was her everything. Not a great pastime, honestly. Nor productive.
The cycles of life, the blood circulation, and the flow of air through the lungs aren't regulated by the superficial, anxiously darting, low-productivity mind. Nor is it fit for analysing all ongoing processes or making truly important, large-scale decisions.
Everything important will happen on its own, unasked.
And the best way to interact with it will be to follow the barely perceptible path of least resistance for her. Therefore, extremely tired of struggle and tension, the Kantinian, on an instinctive level, subconsciously decided to switch off her head, abandon any efforts and surrender to the mercy of current circumstances.
Probably temporarily, because being more or less a young lass and still having a decent reserve of energy, she had not yet had her fill of struggle and could afford it still.
Having obtained the coveted coffee and exchanged a few friendly words with those gathered, Ami returned to her workplace, spreading out the sheet with her scheme.
Her inner light, having received a small charge, simply had to spill over onto work matters. Otherwise, they'd never be resolved at this rate.
And she found herself humming again.
"So what? Nothing to flicker at here. No complaints from the Hall yet either."
Yeah. What a plague this Force is. It works where it shouldn't and doesn't work where it should.
"It's about our whole life."
"And our uncontrollably manifesting emotions."
Oh, don't talk about it… The main thing is not to accidentally burn down the Station. "Trying" to brighten the place up.
"No. That won't happen here. Our hatred for Kantine is sincere. Not questioned by any of the personalities. No reason to destroy this work kotti that gave us a chance."
Under whose shelter we even were almost happy a couple of times. Yes.
If only it weren't for all this "Ami, don't get in the way, Ami, fetch documents".
But a more serious, respectful attitude towards her knowledge, experience, intellect, enthusiasm, and abilities. And not just the ones that currently conveniently serve the authorities. We're talking about analytical skills and the instincts of an experienced Temple officer and her attempts to take part in the investigation.
Yes, all she can contribute to the case from the cubbyhole are just theories. But doesn't every investigation start with theories?
If it started with known facts right away, it wouldn't be an investigation, it would be an arrest red-handed…
Is she asking too much?
Of course she's certainly seen worse bosses. Milo isn't her mother; unconditional love for subordinates, inapplicable to his own goals, isn't part of his job.
…Universe forbid such a toxic mother, though…
Ami's mother is no prize either. It might even be easier to get something you want from Milo. Everyone likes convenient "functions" instead of real people. That's universal. They won't pay you any attention until they want to use you.
The Kantinian got used to that approach in a course of her life.
She left home, but now her second home is the Station.
And as long as Milo is the Chief here, everything will be run according to his ideas. And if he thinks that the best help from Ami is not getting in the way... then all that's left for her is to mind her own business. And wait for this assignment to be completed.
But not to wait for permission to live to be granted. One can wait forever this way. Being convenient and comfortable in others' lives makes you uncomfortable in your own life.
"Bring your own warm blanket of self-respect into every kotti, as they say."
Yes. It's obvious, but so hard to practise. And why throw shells at others anyway.
Amelia doesn't hand out such "blankets" to anyone either.
Not allowed. Only documents. And only when it's possible.
– Hey. Mistress of the Archives. Found anything interesting in the Forest while I was away? Give me the incident summary. Please.
…Eeeeeey.
Ami's wide grin lit up the room's gloom brighter than any lamp.
One of Omill's wonders had hobbled to the window itself.
…Now THIS is someone you could wrap up in "blankets" three layers thick.
"He'd probably find them too heavy, prickly, and uncomfortable."
Yes. Control and intrusiveness – that's all about us. Shh.
– The Mistress of Darkness greets… Kele! Good to see you. I never made it to the Forest, and so the others found practically nothing on their own. You needn't even bother taking those tablets… Dull stuff.
– Good that nothing serious happened. I hope the serious stuff didn't wait for my discharge from the Infirmary.
– That would have been extremely impolite of it to ignore us like that and burden you again.
– Indeed. Give me my old cases then. Please.
With surprising ease and nonchalance, as if she'd spent her entire career doing just that, Amelia instantly found the right tablets and handed them over to the requester.
Selva raised his hands to take them… but immediately winced in annoyance.
Gnats! The Secretary frowned along with him.
– Still… hurts?
– A little… Want to sympathise?
– No. To envy. Already told you.
– Pff, something to envy, yes… What a marvelous adventure. Fell into darkness and blacked out. Couldn't ask for better. Dead easy to arrange.
– Oh, really? I tried. Didn't work. Couldn't even copy it, let alone come up with my own. I'm more likely to die of boredom here. That worries me more. Listen. I'm not asking out of idle curiosity… It'll be a challenge for you to carry the tablets. Let me. About time I remembered I'm supposed to be the Secretary here. Milo never tires of reminding me about my lack of helpfulness. I can try to show some for a change.
– Well, if only to impress Milo.
– Right to the hat. The ghoul nearly killed me this light, the swamp-dweller…
– How so?
– Scared me to death. Yeah. I fell asleep in the Station, and this oaf decided to teach me a lesson and crept up quietly. Well, actually… my own Boss back home would have flattened me into a biscuit over this. But quickly, directly, and without much contrivance. They'd have had fun anyway. Well… shall we go?
– Yes. Let's go. Actually… that's very kind of you. The stack of tablets would have been really uncomfortable to carry. Even if I lightened them with witchery.
– Wow! Can… all witches do that?!
– Yes.
– Such a cheating…
Coughing in annoyance, Amelia frowned. There it was again.
Selva shook his head.
– Well, yeah. Actually, I never thought about the extra effort you have to put in just moving tablets around.
The Kantinian sighed humbly.
– We move heavier things in Kantine… All light, sometimes. In any weather. It's fine. I'll learn to lighten weight someday too. Then I'll be truly almighty.
She left the cubbyhole, grabbing Kele's tablets, and slowly made her way to his office on the second level. The Selva hobbled along behind.
– That thought is central for you, isn't it?
– It is. 'Cause nothing else left.
– Is it?
– Yes. I've been a good Secretary here. Didn't smash my cubbyhole to bits. Didn't burn or break… everything. Didn't kill myself on the tablets. But it's not enough. For Milo. I'm still "not helpful" and "not amusing", seemingly. I feel like I need some superpowers to fit this job. And almightiness will do good, I suppose. Then… Milo will realise his utter mistake. My helpfulness is waaaay more worse than my neglect. I don't know moderation. If I get started – you'll all be trying to avoid my displays of courtesy. But it'll be too late. I'll overwhelm and smother you with it.
– How terrifying. And I can't even run yet… So I won't even try.
– Don't. And... If your office people are busy and unable to retrieve documents, simply submit a request. And I will stack what you require on your table. And take away what you don't need. Until you're healed.
– I'll get used to this. You'll have to keep doing it all the time.
– And go to the Forest for you too... Well, that's unlikely. Not to mention I'll be heading back to Kantine soon enough. I'll get a copy of the discharge report from the Infirmary. And I'll find out you're fully fit.
– Can't hide anything from you. Greedy for information, avid data collector, innocently knowing everything about everyone.
– Yes. I love knowledge selflessly.
– I'll have to delay providing that copy of the certificate.
– Revenge for coffee warming? Isn't that a bit too much?
– Can't pass up a chance to tease a colleague.
– "Colleague"… Thanks. I was starting to believe I was just a piece of furniture here.
Slowly, at selva's pace, they reached the office.
The Secretary put the tablets on the table and, sighing tiredly, headed back to her workplace.
– Hey. – Kele stopped her halfway. – Thanks.
– You're welcome!
Ami left the office, diligently trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face. To restore the gloomy version of herself who approaches her tirelessly and lightly discovered torments and reasons for self-flagellation with seriousness.
"Nothing will ever come of it."
I know… What difference does it make? It just felt nice.
The Temple woman descended to her level and, nodding a greeting to Finnian who had just entered the Station, and mindlessly headed for her workplace.
Where a whole mountain of tasks had already accumulated… Even more than before.
Sorting these tablets, presumably kindly brought by Milo in her absence, continuing the fuss with her new cataloguing system… was a task for another light.
…Didn't want to do any of it, just wanted to sleep…
But had to fill the time until the end of the working light somehow.
"We all know about this "I want to sleep". You'll leave work and won't feel a bit sleepy. Until the next working light."
It's not my fault the Mainland has so much interesting and disturbing stuff out of the dull work. I'm living as best I can.
– Managed to light the lamp?
…Oh!..
The Secretary jumped in surprise.
Hush… It's just Finnian, who's back from Milo's office.
…They're in cahoots to drive her crazy, aren't they? The swamp-ghoul, criminally mislabelled as her Chief, asked the more capable Head Witch to finish the job…
Well. To be fair, Finnian is always terrifying.
– Pfff. – she exhaled. – Nnno… Milo managed to do it… a few times, even. Me – not even once.
– Milo didn't manage it straight away either. He's rather weak on the witchery front. Good at a few things, but no more. His family were very patient. You just try, try, and try again. Don't give up. It'll work out in the end.
"Is he believing in himself or in me?"
What difference does it make?
– Understood. – The Kantinian assured him sincerely, beaming. – I will! Have no choice.
– Excellent attitude. Good. Keep it up.
Finnian left, and Ami once again lightly passed her hand over the lamp.
…Not a spark. Maybe try freezing it?
Ah, come on… Nothing's going to work. Useless. Everything's useless. Nothing will ever work out… I know how it'll all end… In the gloom of despair and powerlessness. As always.
Complete disappointment for the teacher, the only being who believes in her.
"Well. Wouldn't be the first time of a total…"
…Despaaair… Yes. Should we hit the ale again?
"Ugh, no way. Rather die of despair than a hangover again. Memories are still fresh."
True.
The hard-working light continued, and she was barely given a chance to work on the catalogue.
Having obviously had too much morning coffee along with Ami, or else suffering the after-effects of Milo's euphoria over the extra resources allocated by Sandra, the officers seemed to be experiencing unprecedented fits of industriousness.
It felt like every single person in the Station suddenly had a work itch this light.
And Amelia herself was managing her duties now reasonably well.
And so the working light went by quickly. The exhausted Archivist was quite content with its routine now, because she planned to apply the remnants of her meagre energy in the other place. She left work, noting that the sky was clear and the air was transparent.
It was amazing how quickly it had cleared after the recent rains. And the setting of the luminaries was simply stunning now.
Kantinian stopped to admire it while lazily listening to the conversation going on in her head.
"…go to the forest for supplies. Really need to. Save up for new clothes; otherwise we won't make it in time. That would be a shame."
"Need to sleep! To finally have a proper sleep in my own bed. Collapsing from overwork would be a shame, and then nothing would get done."
"You know she won't sleep. She'll pace from wall to wall."
"Oh, yes, she will. Better to earn sleep another way. By going for supplies. And means of payment. Or shall we just freeload like Youlles?"
"We've tried 'earning' it that way before. Nothing but more tiredness."
Hey. Think what you want, but I'm continuing to "freeload". I've no strength.
"We'll be left without biscuits again. And without dinner. Don't complain."
I won't.
"Where are we going in the end? To sleep? Or to Finnian's? Or everything at once, as usual?"
"She's too overloaded for reading also and won't understand a word."
"Home?"
Nnno… Definitely no.
"Weren't we going to Kiona's?"
Scary.
"But we need to; we are ill."
"Finally, I hear some sense in this conversation."
"Consider it as a perfect excuse to skive off everything else."
"Also, we can ask about the amnesias while we're there."
"Including our own amnesia."
Oh, yes. It all came out of nowhere. Fancy forgetting such a clear, obvious facts.
Maybe those people also saw something extremely unpleasant and terrifying? What could it be?
"You don't want to know that."
Yes and no. Kiona's reports don't make much sense... Maybe she'll say more in person. Off the record.
"She's unlikely to discuss it with you."
Can't hurt to ask. And time to go before Kiona heads home. If she hasn't already.
"These healers' working lights aren't regulated."
Better safe than sorry.
Amelia hurried off towards the Infirmary… which Kele had recently left.
Happy-happy, joy-joy.
Approaching the entrance to the healing building, she realised she was noticeably nervous.
"No turning back."
Exhaling, the servicewoman went inside.
"Quickly. Just pop in, ask, and leave."
Or leave if the Head Healer isn't there.
The Kantinian had been to this place two or three times. She was always struck by the height of the ceilings and the abundance of invisible light sources. There were few windows and lamps, but it was always bright, possibly due to witchery.
Special reflective wall coating? Translucency? Some other building technique unknown to Amelia?
The huge central window with its magnificent view of the mountain and forest certainly played a very important role. But not the main one. There was something else… What?
…Too many questions for one visit.
Searching for Kiona, the Archivist peered intently around the large Hall with its many beds, screens, and bustling staff.
The Head Healer could be anywhere.
Outside. In her office. In one of the myriad utility rooms or isolation wards. Kantinian just had to hope she wouldn't have to search every one. Especially since she'd only seen Kiona once, briefly, and definitely wouldn't remember her face.
Suppressing her fear, the Secretary caught a young man in a healer's uniform by the sleeve and asked about his boss. The orderly pointed to the far end of the Hall.
Amelia hesitantly moved in the indicated direction.
Three thoughtful women stood near one of the screens, in front of a huge window that opened up to a breathtaking view of the Forest and the Mountain. The light of one of the rising sunset stars lit up the scene.
They were discussing something animatedly. Which one was Kiona?
Not wanting to interrupt, the servicewoman waited for them to finish, taking the opportunity to admire the view and curiously examine her surroundings.
When the three finished their conversation, she reluctantly, hastily moved towards the healers before they dispersed in different directions, forcing her to track them down one by one.
– Can I… speak with Kiona? – Ami resolutely blocked their path.
– Of course you can. – one of them smiled, a middle-aged Selva with long hair. – Come.
Selva's age is a tricky thing to determine in general. And not important right now. This… was clearly Kiona herself. Lucky.
The Head Healer nodded to the others, and they departed. She gestured for Ami to follow.
They walked down a long corridor branching off from the main kotti, lined with many entrances to small rooms.
– I've seen you here. - commented the Head Healer. - You came to see Kele.
– I've also been once or twice before, delivering documents. I'm actually a courier from Kantine. But currently I'm a Secretary at the Truth Station.
– Replacing Lucille? Mmm. Did… Milo send you? For reports?
– No. I'm here… on personal business.
– Curious.
They entered Kiona's cosy office, and she immediately went behind her unusually shaped desk, which had impressed Ami on her first visit.
That, for some reason, she remembered well.
– Out with it. – The office's mistress gestured for her to sit.
Amelia obediently sank into a strange-looking but… rather comfortable chair. Remaining there, however, in a tense position.
She shifted restlessly.
The Kantinian avoided infirmaries. They made her nervous enough without the additional reason of talking to an unfamiliar department chief.
– Well, well… Where to start?.. – the servicewoman breathed out anxiously. – I caught a cold… Oh. That's not the main thing troubling me… All of this… mysterious, almost mystical murk with the amnesias. Troubling me more than the cold… Stupid nightmares with vague anxieties, unfounded fears, internal blocks... Bouts of seasonal depression. Chronic fatigue… And so much else besides that I could lose count… I can't highlight the main part of it.
– Whoaaaa. – Kiona clapped her hands together. – Hospitalise you straight away? Have a lie-in and rest; we'll sort you out. You'll come to yourself, drink some calming herbs, and won't be alone in a tough time. I'll carve out part of the working light, we'll discuss everything… You'll feel better. I guarantee. For Temple employees, all this requires no extra payment.
Ami shook her head, trying to hold back the approaching tears. Her nose gave a traitorous sniffle. A lump of tears rose in her throat.
It really was a tough time… She was afraid to admit it even to herself.
And by not admitting it, how could she feel any compassion for herself?
Kiona, in this respect, seemed like very reliable supporting person.
But… no. Not yet. Work won't do itself; Finnian's Archive won't read itself.
And more of it; she has to leave soon.
"Right. Pull yourself together. Speak."
– Thank you so much… Really. It sounds so wonderful and tempting… But I'm not a local employee. I'm leaving for Kantine soon… You'd help me greatly if you could answer my questions. Do you have some time?
Kiona nodded understandingly.
– Yes. I have a little, and it's all yours. Begin.
– Yes. Thank you... About these amnesias. I've… read your reports… But understood almost nothing. Not just because of the terminology, not just because I'm not local and the non-witch… I suspect the case itself is very murky. No visible injuries, nothing unusual except the amnesia itself, no leads… right?
The Head Healer nodded thoughtfully again.
– Yes, nothing remarkable.
– And no theories? Hunches?..
– No, nothing… It could be anomalies, witchery, weird experiments… Anything. All I can say is it's something powerful. And far beyond my understanding.
– It's so infuriating that we still can't connect one event to another or disconnect others. We've recently been looking at the entire complex of events together, without distinguishing between smuggling and amnesia, fraud and the events in the Forest... and everything has gotten mixed up in my mind. Really. If we looked at everything separately, then the anomalies would probably win the "who did it" contest. However, if we looked at them together, the answer would be yes; they were meaningful, purposeful acts. Or experiments, indeed.
– Yes. It's all really weird; that's what I'm trying to say. And I have no sane versions. However, I can't imagine what could be tested in that manner or what the end result would look like. Don't even ask, "What for?" I have no idea at all. But if they tried to remove something from people's memories without removing the people themselves, it worked.
– Bit clumsy then… It just drew our attention. Why not eliminate them physically?
– Perhaps it will be noticed too. And what do we have? Some cases which have been officially recorded recently. And what was before? Unnoticed? Unrecorded? "Don't remember – I forgot – So what?" See? We don't even comprehend the true scale of the problem.
Ami coughed approvingly.
– Yessss… Absolutely.
She tried desperately to focus on the important conversation, but her concentration was broken. The treacherous position of Head Healer made it nearly impossible.
Aside from the unusual furniture, it contained not only amazing little boxes and pots with all sorts of curious, incomprehensible instruments, a multitude of containers with dried or liquid-preserved things, bouquets of medicinal herbs hanging on the walls, but also a plethora of other astonishing objects and fascinating trifles.
Amelia's already scattered attention was finally captured by something she couldn't look away from. Something was sitting on the whimsically curved desk that was completely disarming.
A mug. In the shape of a small human skull.
…Is it… real? Does healer work have no waste? Hm. Very practical. Interesting.
The capitulating Kantinian stared mesmerised at the vessel, and for a moment the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Inside the mysterious container, a green drink was clearly visible… staying inside and not thinking of leaking out through the eye sockets. Witchery?.. Hmm.
The Secretary made a concerted effort to shift her gaze away from the most unusual mug she'd ever seen and back to a point above Kiona's right shoulder so that the conversation could continue.
The bouquet of medicinal herbs there was stunning.
"Focus."
Yesss!
– And some might have simply forgotten how to breathe. – The Head Healer continued.
– Now that's creepy… Finnian, I think, said something similar. – The non-witch struggled to get back on track.
– But that's just a guess too. We don't know. So that's what we have. Before a critical mass built up, people simply didn't pay attention. Or we didn't before it was widespread.
– True. Not everyone will start scrutinising their past, finding suspicious gaps in memory. And you said "No theory", huh?
Kiona shook her head dejectedly.
– That's hardly a theory. It explains neither the nature nor the causes of what's happening. There is nothing fundamentally new about amnesia itself. Milli, one of our long-term patients, has periodic episodes of memory loss. Knowing her history, you wouldn't suspect any outside malevolent will… But Milli is probably a bad example because she doesn't actually lose memory; she more likely falls into some "parallel reality". Or realities. Quite a worthy subject for study. If we had the appropriate tools.
– Maybe those people were running from something too? Something frightening? Disturbing?
– Maybe… I didn't notice. The group are extremely diverse; most show no panic or distress trying to remind of the past. They… simply don't remember much. That bothers them a little. Or they suddenly lose certain life skills. That concerns them more. And then they come to us.
Kiona thoughtfully twirled a jar containing some dried root, sitting on the table before her.
– Like… what? – Amelia enquired.
- Like forgetting how to make coffee.
– It's not acceptable in Omill. They must be banished like witches from Kantine. Sorry. A stupid joke. So… Isn't all this a bit powerful… for being human-made? Haven't you asked the elves or other Elders?
– I haven't, in particular. Of course, the others had. Nothing's clear either. We'll understand what they were talking about later, when it will be too late, as usual. Elders are always "very helpful" in such cases. Especially in urgent cases. Their unhurried long-term worldview is priceless but mostly useless.
– Could they… lie and still be the cause of what is happening?
– Why would they? – Kiona shrugged, tossing her dark shiny hair back with a light gesture. – There's no point in it. All these tricks are necessary when dealing with someone stronger than you. Then cunning is required. And Elders could flatten us into writing tablets without much effort. We're the weakest on the Mainland. And we're dangerous mainly only to ourselves.
Amelia swallowed. She clearly didn't like that prospect.
The ingrained prejudices and Kantian provincial self-confidence of "I can handle anything, especially with a hoe and a strong word" were firm in her, whether she realised it or not. And right now, she'd received an unpleasant jab in that part of her personality. A good reminder.
The powerful Selva witch states this fact just calmly and unemotionally. Give credit where it is due. Amelia agreed.
– True… I'm getting the strong impression that we're also the stupidest. How fitting, then, that we're so limited in power. I don't even want to think about what we would have done if we had Elvish mental strength.
– Nature's wisdom is great; it keeps everything in its place. Playing it safe.
– But someone doesn't. Or something isn't right.
Kiona grimaced in annoyance.
– It's not cheerful, yes, and its powers are great, but it's all at the will of the Universe in the end. You can talk to one of the recent admissions, if you're interested. But discreetly. Let's not embarrass him. He helps us with the chores and in the kitchen.
Ami coughed out a chuckle.
– Exploiting him?
– He volunteered. Says that being still is boring. He goes on to say that he is happy and relaxed here. Wanted to stay.
– Me too. And it's growing on me.
– Try to get hospitalisation permission. It won't hurt. Or take sick leave.
– I think I will. Is the person Omillian?
– He doesn't know. He spoke to us in Omillian at least. But then Kyle showed up and… He had no trouble conversing with him in Primean.
– Wow. Some kind of spy… I definitely should test his knowledge of Kantinian. Maybe he was a courier. Like me. And that's why he's multilingual.
– It's possible. He had no documents. No one knows him in the city. No requests from neighbouring cities so far.
– That I can't chalk that up to an anomaly. Maybe he lost his bag but not his whole life somewhere along the way. Does he do witchery?
– A little. On a domestic level.
– He's not Kantinian.
– Not necessarily… Maybe he was latent. Then he "forgot" that he can't do witchery and just does it. It happens. Our psyche does strange things.
– Gnaaats! I wish I could do the same. It would be far easier than dealing with my past and the mental blocks it caused… I need to reread his report more thoroughly. It's a pity I wouldn't be around if some forgotten things resurface.
– He keeps notes also.
Amelia's gaze lit up with delight.
– Great! This is… truuuuly fascinating. I'm eager to talk with him… at a convenient time. It's so late now... Thank you so much! I already took a lot of your time. Can you prescribe me something for the cold? And for the chronic fatigue with stress. Then I go. I know medicine can't fix much, but it's the "better than nothing" principle.
– I see.
Kiona nodded thoughtfully, stood up, and pulled out a couple of bags from under the desk, containing several nice little sacks of herbs.
Ami brought out her food pouch. Squinting, Kiona measured several portions of different medicinal herbs into it.
– This is for your coughing… It's standard. Not sure how to pick out some calming ones… Listen. Take some days off, really; come here on a regular light. We'll discuss your problems. In more detail. Now I'll provide you with essentials. What should I give you for now? Any symptoms? Brief me.
Amelia took a deep breath and frowned, trying to pick out the main issues from her cheerless bouquet.
– Well… I… constantly feel tired. Every light. Since dawn.
– Do you sleep normally? Do you have a routine?
– My routine is I fall asleep when I collapse. Can't sleep unless I'm exhausted. All sorts of thoughts creep in. Lately, nightmares have been plaguing me. I feel something like spirits in the room… More often than usual. Or maybe I'm not just seeing them and they're always here… Better not to think about it much… It's easier to walk through a swamp of the undead with your eyes closed. Still don't know how to deal with it. Anyway, well, stress, lots of stress.
– Dear me. – Kiona, who had finished filling one pouch, shook her head and reached for another. – How do you… rest?
– Well… I walk. Got drunk recently… But it doesn't count, it doesn't help, actually, I know. I read a lot in the Witchium Archives. Finnian acknowledged me as a witch and threatens to take me on as a student…
– So you tire yourself out in a different way. Ami, rest means doing absolutely nothing. Until you feel sick of it. Rest is very, very important. For everything. Otherwise, you'll be forced to do it later in a way you wouldn't like it. Do you copy?
The Head Healer looked sternly at the Temple worker. Amelia swallowed convulsively.
– Yes…
Selva frowned and returned to her herbs and pouches.
– How do you entertain yourself? What brings you joy?
– Walking, reading, sleeping, drinking coffee…
Kiona set aside the pouch she was working on and looked sternly at Ami again.
– Cut out the coffee immediately.
Ami, who had been agreeing with everything until then, almost choked on her anger and surprise. She protested for the first time, shocked.
– Cut it out?! You mean… entirely?! But I… can't. That's the only thing that keeps me alive recently! Why… Why is everyone else allowed?! Why do I feel disenfranchised everywhere?..
– This is for medical reasons. I've heard enough to know that your psyche cannot handle additional destabilisation. You northerners are weak in that regard... And in your personal case, you have a hyper-excitable psyche. So. Better remove it.
– I won't survive without it. Really.
Kiona smiled and nodded in understanding.
– Don't panic. I'll give you something.
She took another small sack from a drawer.
Ami would give them back in a pile. And Kiona's help in particular fell under the definition of an unpayable debt. The Kantinian would not have come here if she wasn't a Temple employee. Even knowing the Omillian Temple helps everyone.
By the way, it was a one-of-a-kind chance. There has never been normal medicine in Kantine, and there are no witches there. Their culture chose to sacrifice this aspect of a comfortable life as well. As it was worth it. Spoiler: no.
The need for uniting stupid national pride for nothing meant everything in that system was geared more towards making new people rather than fixing old ones. And these dubious priorities hurt common people like Amelia.
Naturally, the more prominent and wealthy members of this society were unaffected by the restrictions. They secretly travelled from Kantine to Omill for medical treatment. Most likely for overeating. Even though their lives were "hard," these people usually lived longer and better.
From Primean sources, Amelia also learnt with surprise that almost all Kantinian pills were based on old Omillian potions. But they taste terrible... She can confirm that as a Kantian.
It's not clear what witchery did to the Kantinians, but it's probably best that they don't have any. They would either hurt themselves trying to hurt the others or come up with something even worse to do to beat all of their neighbours in witchery.
Blessed the Universe and its wisdom.
And Finnian is right in saying Kantine should be left alone.
The way Kantinians live is their operating level. Ami must form and maintain her own. No need to interfere or change anything. Or anyone.
Time to leave the world order alone and let it take care of itself.
A small mountain of little sacks was thrust into the hands of the distracted servicewoman.
– Look and remember. – caring Kiona insisted. – This is for the cold. Take after dawn and during the day. This is for your "spirits". Take in the evening. Honestly, it's not spirits you should fear in this life; dangerous ones don't live here. The dense ones are more frightening. Then, this. Take it with you everywhere. Now it's your best friend.
Amelia opened the sack and stared with interest at the black bits.
– What's this?
– Charred shell bits. Keep the part of them in the pouch. You'll use it to filter all your coffee. Change the shells periodically. If you like, bring them back here. We'll clean them for you so you can use them again.
– What will that do?
– Your coffee won't be so stimulating, it also won't summon a crowd of "spirits". Don't blame the spirits. They incidentally are signalling about your unhealthy life and destructive habits. Thank them next time.
– Yeah. I will. If I don't soil myself. What… scares me, actually, isn't the spirits themselves. But rather the thought that I'll be scared to death.
– Clear enough… Tell me, on what occasions do the "spirits" take an interest in you?
– When I'm studying… unknown symbols. The ones from the recent case… And in my mother's notes. And when I sing… But maybe I'm just not the best singer on the Mainland. And it annoys the spirits.
– None of us are the best or the worst. Perfect pitch and its total absence are both very rare. Actually, spirits love singing. It's the universal language of Force.
– My culture doesn't love singing. Non-ritual singing, I mean. All thoughts and songs must be directed towards the "serious matters". I could even agree with that if it weren't for one minor detail. Why do they take only fertility seriously?
– Honestly? I don't know. Those are their priorities. Human views on what's permissible and impermissible change depending on current advantages. You'd exhaust yourself trying to figure it out. Keep your own in mind. And there are universal things like singing. They don't appear or disappear because of human stupidity. You can't just ban it because you didn't invent it.
– By the way, our Kantine doesn't have any spirits. I mean officially. Just so you know. But at the same time, the non-existent spirits are evil, and singing can summon them. How does it work for so many? Totally lost in their superstitions and prejudices Kantinians definitely could use some guiding spirits. I wish I had them when I was younger. To get the instructions rather from them, them from the stupid human beings surrounding me. But if I think twice, I suppose that I'd soil myself if I saw one. Though, you're right about the dense ones. They told me what to think and feel, and what I feel now is almost unbearable shame. For existing and being the way I am. I still keep myself in secret. Even from myself.
– You adapted to the conditions you lived in. Now you're grown, and it's time to be born the second time as a person. To truly become yourself in the end. It's very beautiful. Catching flak for failing to meet the expectations of those around you is difficult. However, living your entire life as a warped dead shell will not be easy.
– I'm really going through a painful rebirth in this city. The process has somehow intensified here.
– It's never easy. And it's started. That's the main thing. Life doesn't lash out without necessity. Why would it waste extra energy needlessly?
Kiona smiled warmly, and the sensation of a soft, immaterial embrace enveloped Amelia in a long-forgotten state of inexpressible peace and a certain lack of concern for the hustle and bustle that had consumed her until recently.
She understood that the healer had somehow shared a part of her own perception of the world with her. Witchery.
The Kantinian had nothing to give in return.
All she could do was leave the Head Healer in peace so she could finally end her prolonged working light.
The servicewoman wearily smiled in return.
– I think I should go... Thank you. Truly, thank you for everything.
– You're welcome, – she responded lightly.
– I think I definitely need a sick leave if Milo can provide me with a light or two. And… I won't be at ease until I ask… That mug. Is it… a real skull?
The Selva chuckled.
– No. But an exact replica. Made to order.
– But how… doesn't the coffee leak out through the eye sockets?
– They're wiped through the clay of the cup. Like windows in a kotti.
– Waaah… I should have guessed! I saw the stylish transparent rim on Kimi's cup before! This is the most stunning cup of all.
– Thanks. I can refer you to the craftswoman.
– Oh, great! And does she… by any chance make beautiful bracelets with gnome stones?
– That particular one, as far as I know, no… Working with stones is rare here. That's Zeth for you.
– Good… I'd love to go to Zeth; I haven't been there… But I'll get healed first, build up my strength, then definitely get there.
Kiona nodded seriously.
– Excellent plan. Don't waver.
Saluting with enthusiasm, Amelia left the Head Healer's office serene and content. She knew the feeling was fleeting and would vanish under the influence of everyday concerns and scary stories she told herself.
Nonetheless, she should remember it. And imprint it on herself. She'll eventually learn to do this on her own.
The conversation was sooo interesting. The initial loss of nerve cells was justified. Time to go home now. Sleep was ordered.
The best order in the Galaxy, in fact. If they could sleep soundly in their Omillian cosy kotti from sunset to dawn for once, maybe they could finally become almighty.