Chương 99: CHAPTER 97- Bonds Are Born From Voice

"Lunataria for five alir! Just caught and fried!"

"Jars of Legnone Honey from Sector II!"

"Skewers of Feathered Tyrant! In every sauce!" These and dozens of other cries mingled in the festive streets of the Fifth Boulevard, fused with strange aromas and delicate music drifting from the stalls. The crowd had thinned, divided into clusters in the little alleys where the smells blended into hoods of scent. A boy and a woman were staring intently at the products laid out on white cloths, greasy with shiny fat residue.

"Those are Lunataria! They're really good fried, but watch out for the bones! And those are Glass Larvae?! I haven't eaten one in years!" The boy smiled, pointing first at some curved fish with two pairs of fins on each side and two dark, round eyes. Looking at them, they seemed like lunar reflections in the water. Then he moved to a completely transparent fish, enough to see the pinkish organs inside.

"YOU'VE GOT A GOOD EYE, YOUNG MAN! Though Glass Larvae are sea parasites that often stick to the bellies of our ships. Those teeth are nasty." The fisherman laughed, stroking his long, rough beard, then washed his hands in a silver bucket with a bar of soap. His turban bore the symbol of the Archipelago, slightly faded. The boy nodded with a wide smile, nudging the woman beside him to draw her attention to a cut of pink meat with fire-red veins.

"But that's…" The man nodded, grabbing a very sharp blade from the counter to slice off a paper-thin piece. He broke it in two and offered it to the pair, gesturing with his head for them to taste it just like that. As soon as the bite was swallowed, both smiled, delighted.

"It really is Coral Serpent!" The man raised both thumbs, beaming.

"You surprise me, young man. You recognised it just from the flesh." The girl, while the two exchanged compliments, clutched her stomach. The flavour still caressed her tongue, keeping her gaze locked on it.

"I worked as a courier… I listened to the stories of the people who gave me work, and sometimes we dined together. Speaking of which, do you have a jar of sea buds?" The man lit up, immediately handing the boy a glass jar containing molluscs with triangular black shells and yellowish flesh.

"Lance… What are those?" Jeanne asked, trying not to be seen holding her stomach.

"Jeanne, these are delicacies! They're only fished in winter, and when they're adults their shells expand, almost blooming. They're sweet and meaty and… Jeanne, are you perhaps hungry?" She looked away, silent, but the strange movement of her hand made everything clear. He smiled and turned to the merchant, who was already ready to hand him two portions of assorted fish wrapped in paper cloths.

"Only pay for the jar, young man. I don't want to make the boyfriend of such a beautiful woman spend a single extra coin!" The fisherman said it with no malice or irony whatsoever; from the bottom of his heart, he respected those two. Yet Lance began to lose colour and humanity. Jeanne started staring at him, red as the meat he served, grabbing Lance's hand with a faint smile.

"H-H-Here you g-go…" Lance handed him a banknote and took the food. He made to leave, but the man grabbed his wrist, pale.

"I can't… It's too much." He looked at him, mortified, then immediately bowed his head. Lance smiled, turning so that he would let go.

"I believe work should be rewarded, and yours is so noble. Providing for the health of the families of these islands is a great responsibility." The man smiled, giving a nod. Jeanne smiled too, grabbing a small, golden, crunchy piece with the long pale wooden skewer.

"One last thing! Jeanne and Lance." They turned, confused, when they noticed the vendor was pointing at Jeanne. The man was smiling, looking her in the face.

"Your eyes and your name…" The girl stiffened, feeling a shiver raise the hairs on her body. The idea that someone could recognise their colour and origin began to bring her a severe, heavy fear.

"They're truly beautiful! You will always be welcome here, Louise Melville!" Jeanne looked at Lance, brightening. She grabbed his hand, and they waved together, keeping their fingers tightly intertwined.

"We'll be back!" Lance called, taking a bite of his food before disappearing into the crowd. The two continued exploring the stalls, each time leaving with more blush on their faces than before and with something new in their arms. Lance, weighed down by all the objects he was carrying, looked around.

"Let's go there!" Jeanne nodded, almost skipping toward the stall of wooden planks painted pink. On the red cloths were laid out various fabrics and leathers, each treated differently. The vendor was an elderly woman with fingers twisted by age but with a terribly sunny smile. Jeanne wiped her face before approaching, tilting her head in surprise.

"A Grand Taurine? I didn't think I'd see one again." Lance moved closer, observing the black leather bag woven with imperceptible reddish veins. Lance shook his head, smiling.

"If you can explain it to me, I'd appreciate it. I've never heard that name." He scratched the back of his neck while Jeanne, her eyes moist with joy, prepared to speak.

"It's a very rare leather, obtained from a beast that lives in the mountains of Northest. When I was little, my sister used to tell me how customers never left those bags alone, or how her workmates worked only to afford them." The woman turned with a smile stamped on her lips.

"It's a bit old… But I think it can suit you, dear." Jeanne's eyes widened, immediately shaking her head.

"I'm not pretty enough to wear something like that." She shook her head, raising her hand to chest height. Lance immediately took the woman's hand gently and left her two banknotes worth a total of eighty thousand alir. The woman began sweating profusely, staring at the girl, who was in the same state.

"Is it not enough?" Lance asked, worried, digging into his pockets for more money. The woman immediately stepped back, shaking her hand.

"It's enough, please don't trouble yourself further, sir." The old lady chuckled, her forehead drenched in sweat. He tilted his head, confused, but Jeanne, who warmly waved goodbye to the woman, dragged Lance away.

"W-Why did you do that? That was the most you could spend… I don't think a lunch can repay it." Lance smiled, shaking his hand nervously in front of her face.

"I mean, you seemed really happy when you saw it, and then it taught me something new. Plus, we solved the food space problem! A good deal on all fronts." He smiled, while Jeanne kept glancing at the bag under her shoulder. Lance sighed, squeezing her hand, which was particularly cold.

"I've made you listen to my story a couple of times, but I'd like to hear more about you. Being able to call you my friend is truly a joy." The girl grabbed her elbow with her hand, looking down.

"R-River." Lance looked around, confused.

"I'd like to go there…" Lance raised his chin to the air for about ten seconds, then smiled and clapped his palms. He took her hand and began walking toward a series of stairways and alleys, ever lower. The sound of flowing water began to envelop their senses, while the air became noticeably more humid. In no time, they found themselves strolling along the banks of the Bayork River.

"I know you've never seen it, but it's my first time too." The water carried with it clumps of ice and sleet, shattered and melted beneath the currents. Jeanne stared at the water, somewhat murky, as it made its way toward the sea.

"The river isn't entirely natural. It was partially diverted from the Great Course of Sector II and made to pass underground. It only starts flowing here to clean the port lagoon created after the bombs. Noel told me all that, you know?" Lance noticed Jeanne staring at him, enraptured, alternating her attention between him and the river.

"Why did you want to come here to talk?" He looked straight ahead as he spoke, watching the birds take flight from the distant pier.

"It was my sister's favourite place… Well, actually she wasn't my sister, but I considered her one." Jeanne began to stop, letting Lance get a couple of steps ahead before he turned. There was no one near them, only the water.

"My sister died before I could see it with her, so I wanted to… talk about her near her favourite place… I'm sure she would have liked it." A tear slid down her cheek as she watched the water"This bag was like the one she carried around to find clients. She was truly a beautiful woman. Her face was unique, with long red hair and two eyes as green as a forest… I wanted so much to be like her." A gust of wind lifted her hair into the air. Her blue, glistening eyes turned to the water's flow.

"I can never be like her. In fact, I think I was her ruin… She threw that bag away to save me from a fire." Jeanne smiled, lowering her head, completely silent after that statement. Lance moved closer to her, brushing her shoulder.

"Do you know why I'm here? Why I got recruited?" She didn't turn, almost as if her interlocutor were the endless river.

"Monica and Edvard said my old home was at the centre of a singularity and that I had awakened my powers because of it… My father was right to abandon me… At least he survived the misery I carry." She turned toward Lance, smiling, only to notice that he had vanished. She felt herself encircled from behind, two arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"Those are only lies! Everything you're thinking about yourself is just too evil to be true." His voice was fierce, yet as close as it was to her ear, it didn't bother her. Another tear accompanied her lament, followed by another and another.

"I'm sure your sister always considered you her treasure!" Lance kept his head lowered until her slender hand lifted his chin. She was crying, but between the tears she tried to sketch a smile.

"Her name was Mann." Before she could meet his gaze, she withdrew, almost limping away. Lance did the same, turning forward along the path. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Mann… I'm convinced she was a good person. Just like you!" A gust of wind stirred her hair, also rippling the water's surface. The boy touched the back of his neck, hiding his fingers in his hair.

"I-I think we should hurry. Our time for lunch is running out!" Lance chuckled, walking on briskly. Jeanne smiled, glancing at her reflection in the water one last time.

"Jeanne, one day find someone who can take you away from this world of convenient theories. I'm sorry it can't be me." The smile of that woman was angelic despite the humble tasks her tired hands performed when she wasn't working. The little girl still had her hands immersed in the wooden basin, with thousands of crackling bubbles up to her wrists.

"But will you always be there for me?" A moment of nothing, shaken only by the sinuous movement of laundry in the wind. Mann smiled, placing the last clothespin on the corner of a white sheet stained with a faded reddish halo. She looked at her with lowered eyes, then smiled and stroked Jeanne's head.

"Of course, Jeanne, until the end." The water carried her away from that memory. The taste of hatred caressed her mind, already ready to vomit hatred and accusations at that woman. She turned toward Lance, now walking more relaxed. She smiled, turning her face from the water.

"I'm sorry… That my soul chose you. I'm sorry that the sin beating between my ribs chose you. I wish it weren't true, but I know it will be you…" Jeanne stroked her sternum, then tugged at her dress.

"It will be you… The person who will shatter this theory!" The two found themselves dividing their money and handing it over, with a less stunned reaction than expected, at the entrance to a gigantic tree situated on an artificial islet before the waterfall toward the port. It was a rare tree, a centuries-old piece of Sector II that had survived the war. Inside its golden crown, a complex of small white wooden gazebos stood in contrast to the reddish bark.

"How did you discover this place?" Jeanne looked around, enraptured, as they slowly climbed the stairs inside the gigantic tree. The lift platform could take them only just before the complex, located about fifty metres above the ground.

"A tip from Lautre! He used to come here often when he was free. It's very famous in the capital as a place frequented by high-ranking people and nobles. Fortunately, it's open to everyone during the festivities. This tree is a species called the Resurgent Titan. It only grows in Termìe and can live for thousands of years and withstand anything. Perhaps one of its seeds had remained anchored to one of the bombs…"

Lance smiled, looking around and marvelling at the reflections of clear light filtering through the leaves.

"It's magnificent…" Jeane smiled, now positioning herself beside him. Lance nodded, stroking the wood with his hand.

"I like to think about the way everything must turn. Even from tragedy, something can be born." Jeanne smiled, satisfied, pushing her shoulder against his. When they arrived at the door, a waiter in an elegant emerald suit greeted them with a broad smile, escorting them to a square table with slightly curved edges, right in front of a view of the entire rest of the city: the elongated horizon occupied by the commercial fleet with its garish flags. The sun was beginning to pierce the clouds, irradiating the morning.

Lance moved to speak, but once he saw her face so radiant as she looked at the city, he decided to stay silent and wait for the waiter. A few minutes later, a white sheet with gilded edges appeared before them. On it were written the courses of their meal: an appetizer, a first course, a second course, and finally a dessert. Both thanked him as he closed the thin curtains, and they began to browse the dishes, enraptured.

"Lance… Why should this Tria have river fish as an ingredient?" The boy gave a very quick glance at the appetizer, smiling.

"Originally, Tria was a dish that shared all the ingredients of the archipelago, but after the war, not everyone could afford meat or fish. This is the original recipe." Jeanne's eyes widened, staring impatiently at the kitchen.

"Tell me about the rest… P-please." Lance nodded, trying to recall all the notions he had learned on his local travels.

"The first course should be a type of pasta originating from Lautia, the angel's manes. They're normally served with mushrooms or tomatoes, or with black things called truffles." Jeanne stared curiously at the few occupied tables, amazed by their purple suits and illuminated by the glints of gold.

"I assure you it's excellent, but it's rare to find here because Lautia is extremely difficult to reach by conventional means. A freelance courier can hardly afford the tools to reach that village lost in Sector II." Jeanne chuckled, resting her elbows on the table to support her head.

"I bet you have more to tell about that place." Lance nodded, cracking the fingers of his hand.

"I don't know if you know, but Andimica has rather violent fauna the further inland you go, and disappearances aren't so uncommon. Lucas thinks it's due to the archipelago's strong connection to Hel, but knowing nothing of the past, he can't create a proper classification for the species. When I went to Lautia, it took me almost a week of constant walking to reach the mountainous area." Lance read one of the ingredients carefully and smiled.

"Perfect, two birds with one stone! When I went to Lautia, I found an old man attacked by Aranei… giant, hairy spiders of various colours." He expected a disgusted reaction, but she stared at him with wide eyes.

"And you? Did you grab him and run?" Lance shook his head, much to Jeanne's surprise.

"Running from them in that environment is impossible for a human being. The old man gave me his knife, and I faced them. Honestly, they're cunning and tenacious predators! Killing them is the only way to survive when you're stuck in their territory. I think I was bitten three times, but fortunately their venom is very slow against humans." As he spoke, he had looked away from her several times, only to find her before him with even more invigorated curiosity.

"And then?! What happened?" Jeanne didn't realise she was pushing herself across the table, even lifting her chair to balance. Lance scratched his temple, blushing.

"I managed to kill them and then passed out… Not that killing innocent animals makes me happy. That old man's family was the same one that had placed the order! A real stroke of luck. They let me stay with them and offered me remedies and the meat of those spiders. Yes, I ate it. I know you would have asked." Jeanne composed herself, satisfied.

"What did it taste like…" Embarrassed, she asked, a thread of voice escaping her lips.

"It's sweet and strangely slimy, just like shrimp." Both laughed, each for different reasons, yet both happy. The meal passed quickly, not out of gluttony but because time outside flowed faster than their chatter. The dining room grew quieter as people left and the waiters silently tidied the dark tables.

"Has all this time really already passed?" Jeanne murmured, staring at the sky as it clouded over and her watch vibrated faintly on her wrist. Lance nodded with the same expression.

"We'll return to Dielmon. I wonder if the snow will lessen?" Lance tried to smile, but the girl before him was staring at him with languid eyes. She stared at him intensely, clutching the hem of his shirt.

"Lance… Aren't you tired?" The boy tilted his head toward the sun, obscured by the clouds. Jeanne's tongue trembled as she tried to speak to him.

"You d-don't… We… We're just unlucky to be subjected to this suffering." She lowered her head while Lance stared at her in silence.

"Jeanne, I know it can be hard, but believe me, I…" The room was fortunately empty, and no one could witness that outburst.

"Always you! Is it so hard for you to think about the surrounding people?!" Lance felt a shiver lock the muscles of his face. Jeanne stared at him with tears on her face, pale and wrapped in the half-light.

"During that battle, I saw how much you suffered. I know how much you endured to help us all. It would be ungrateful to give you any blame… But please stop. Why do we all have to suffer like this?!" Jeanne gripped one of the table legs firmly, making the table tremble. Her hair stuck to her tear-stained face as she sighed, waiting for an answer. Lance stared at her silently, lowering his head.

"Why don't you speak? Why, in the long list of people you want to save, can't you write your own name?! Why can't every day be like today?! Don't we also have… The right to live our lives? Instead, you're here trying to become a hero." She panted, clutching her chest. She sprang up and slammed her hand on the table. Lance finally smiled at her, raising his head. He turned his gaze to the sky, heading toward the balcony.

"I don't know why I'm like this, or what drives me to be so. Saving others is perhaps a method of atonement for having failed to protect my sister, my mother, my family. I'm confused, and I'm certainly stupid for it." He slid his fingertips along the smooth, polished wood, smiling.

"Honestly, I've thought about ending it, about stopping playing the chivalrous hero I'm not. But in the end… It was precisely this stupidity that gave me hope I could make it." Jeanne looked away, clutching her dress.

"I don't even know myself, but today I was truly happy to be with you, and that's not something that takes effort to be certain of. I want everyone to be able to be as happy as you were today, to have the right to vomit all the poison the world has made them accumulate, to be weak for a few moments." The wind broke the wall of clouds, slightly releasing the sun.

Staring at the distant sea, he reached his hand toward the blue-tinted sky, the sky lightened by yellow, the sky adorned by clouds, and smiled, clenching his fingers tightly.

"There are still many people who believe in me, and I can't give up now. I will carry this absurd undertaking of mine to the end… Maybe Jude will be glad of it, or maybe she'll scold me, but at least I'll be able to hear her cry and laugh again as she calls me." Jeanne's arms went limp, and no strength in her body could hold back the tears.

"To move forward, we have to wear clothes that don't yet belong to us, and perhaps at that point we'll prove we deserve them." A flock of white birds rose on the horizon while Lance let a tear fall onto the balcony. The drop crashed onto the wood, shattering insignificantly. He lowered his face when he immediately felt himself embraced from behind. Her scent enveloped him completely, mingled with the salty tang of her tears.

"Lance… I assure you, and I'm sure I'm speaking for Jude too." Her voice broke at times, like a leaf struck by dew.

"You are our knight." Lance turned sharply, red-faced and confused. He looked her straight in the eyes and smiled, taking her hands. The last tear still slid down his cheek, lit by the veiled sun behind him.

"Thank you… Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Jeanne." The girl moved forward, trying to say something, but the watches on their wrists trembled again.

"It's Maliard?! We're extremely late!" Lance bolted out of the small dining room, signalling Jeanne to follow. She smiled and nodded. As he vanished, she clutched her chest and panted.

"I've never known love for someone. I'm sure I love the days that pass and the silent nights when I paint… But if someone were to ask me whether I love myself or whether I love someone, I wouldn't know what to say." Jeanne felt the setting sun caress her nape. She raised her head. She felt the weight of her experiences, of hunger, of resentment at being abandoned and hatred toward those who had left her to rot. But something new was sprouting in that black, imaginary mound.

She saw Lance continue to call her as he slowly descended the tree's stairs. She smiled, and after a long breath, she walked toward him, staring at the luminous sun crowned by clouds." But now it's different... No, strange. Nothing in me has changed, but every time I think of the world, I can't imagine it without you, and when I think of you, I can't help but imagine you as the world. How greedy I am…"

She ran toward him, grabbed his hand without warning, and dragged him down with her, ready to return to that island hidden from the world.