Chương 163: Chapter 24: Written upon the Conscience

They walked in a complicit silence until they reached the old stone bridge that crossed the river, its mossy arches reflecting in the dark and swift water. Upon crossing, both Selena and Maya took Ren firmly by their arms, more out of precaution than real necessity, as if the simple act of walking on the damp stone might cause the soldier to slip and send him into the cold waters.

Ren, for his part, accepted the help without protest, a sign of how deeply affected he was by the drink and, perhaps, by the emotional release. Once in the safe territory of the university, in a clearing of soft grass that looked out toward the river, the three of them dropped onto the lawn, forming a disorganized triangle of bodies and sighs. The sky above them was a clear canvas of intense black, dotted here and there by spots of color; the stars were illuminating.

The constant sound of the river, a deep and lulling murmur, served as the soundtrack to their confessions. —These days —Selena articulated that her voice clear and thoughtful against the aquatic backdrop— I have been wondering who I really am. The answer that emerged within me... was that I am a woman with blood-stained hands. But also, the kind Selena. Also, the countess Selena.

The Selena who lived in the streets of Terracanto, the one who dreams of the future, and the one who destroyed the future of many innocent people. She paused; her green eyes fixed on the stars that were slowly passing by. —But at the end of the day... I am me. Just me. Selena. A name that now contains multitudes, some contradictory, but all mine. Maya spoke next, her voice holding a light and carefree tone, tinged by the liquor they had shared. —And who am I? I am Maya.

Raised since childhood as a healer in the Village of the Whispering Forest. Animals fear me, and I wish with all my soul to be able to caress an anurhy without it fleeing in terror. I loved classifying mushrooms; I love gathering herbs... —Her tone became more introspective but remained firm— I am also a resonant. One who uses the written touch. A wretched and cursed resonant, as Valerian says. She sighed, a heavy sound with resignation and a touch of black humor. —But I am also a cheerful girl, with good friends.

And I am, ultimately, a novice alchemist who is still surprised when water glows electric blue. All those things. Sometimes they weigh you down, sometimes they float. Ren was the last. He articulated with difficulty, the words coming out broken by alcohol and an emotionality rare for him. —I am Ren. Son of a guard. I come from the Settlement of Windy Peak. I am a soldier... —He paused, swallowing hard— I am also a resonant. One of the written touch, and without talent.

A sob escaped him, and he sniffled with a blunt, childish gesture. —I am a coward who fears death. I am a child who cries from imagining that it will come to me just like Fern did. I am a man who fights because he is weak. I am a child who dreams of seeing those he loves safe and protected... and I am a man who tries to make that promise real, even if I don't know how. A small, involuntary, and comical hiccup cut off his speech, and he fell silent, overwhelmed by the rawness of his own words.

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable but shared. Three souls baring their cores under the moonlight, without judgment, only recognition. It was Maya who broke the spell, with a dreamy tone. —When I was a child, the Zingari used to come to the village. Wandering people, with colorful wagons and clothes that looked as if they were made of dreams. They told their stories... stories of the earth, of the heavens, of ancient peoples. I always miss hearing them.

Especially those of Maelis, the Weaver of Bridges. She sighed then; the sound was deep and filled the air; it was nostalgia. But it was the soldier who interrupted. —My favorite was when he escapes from the tower of the evil King Enor, the giant of the north! —his voice regaining a bit of strength as he evoked the childhood memory— My favorite part is when he speaks, and the world obeys. The entire tower disappears with his words, and then he has to fight with his sword against Enor and his battleaxe.

It's incredible! Selena listened to them, but her eyes had not left the immense sky. —Of course —Maya said that her face reflecting a condescending but affectionate smile— A soldier, always thinking of battles. My favorite is when Maelis, with the very aracnex that wove his silk cloak, seeks help across the world to bring food to the starving village in the mountains. When he succeeds, after a pact with a witch in exchange for his strength, she grants him the gift of making plants grow.

But he demonstrates such virtue, saving the children from hunger, that the witch's spell is broken... he ends up marrying the sweet lady who had been cursed and transformed into a witch. Maya sighed, a sound of genuine longing. —It's more... poetic. Fewer axes. —Then, turning toward Selena, who was still looking at the sky— Selena, which one is yours? The countess took a moment to respond. She made a slight gesture, as if trying to fish for a memory among the clouds.

—I'm sorry —she said at last— but I didn't know anything about Maelis. Though I remember one... about a girl. Her tone became more distant, as if she were reading from an invisible book. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. —I remember the myth of Eldra. I read it in a book a very long time ago. She was a girl from a poor village, lost between the mountains and the rivers. Her little anurhy, old and faithful, fell terribly ill.

She, seeking help everywhere without finding it, came across a wise man in a gray robe. He belonged to the Path of the Inner Voice. He told her: "Fear screams, but truth whispers. If you want to save your friend, listen to the silence of its being, not to your noise." —Selena paused, the story flowing with surprising clarity— The girl listened to the man. She felt a flow inside her, something calm and deep. Then, she placed her hands on her old, sick anurhy... and it was healed.

Her joy was immense, and the animal, grateful, could only lick the girl's hands with happiness. She fell silent, letting the simple, pure ending float in the air. —Magic —Maya and Ren murmured in unison. Though it was Maya who continued, with a tinge of philosophical bitterness. —The written touch, sweetened for a story, like every myth about a real resonant. But magic after all. —She sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of her own curse— Giving a piece of your life...

for an animal that fears us resonants instinctively. It's... really depressing, if you think about it. A sacrifice for a love that can never be reciprocated without fear. Ren coughed; both of them looked at him, but he was just wiping his face. —Yes —Selena agreed that her voice was more grounded now— Before knowing that magic truly existed, I was looking for myths or legends about such events. Eldra's caught my attention. I always thought of it... not as a story, but as a metaphor.

The idea that healing, that saving, could come not from power, but from listening. From silence. From understanding someone else's pain not as a problem to solve, but as a void to console. Maya sighed again with sorrow in her soul, slowly shaking her head. —If you could go anywhere —Ren blurted out, his voice still thick from the drunkenness as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand— where would you go? He paused, his glassy eyes looking at the sky as if searching for inspiration in the clouds. —As for me...

I would like to go see the massive desert of the south. The one that forms a border with Sandstrohm. I think I remember it was called Rimal-al-Azal. Imagine... the huge flyers of the sands, those giant arthropods that navigate the dunes, carrying me across the implacable desert. Seeing the sun set over an infinite sea of sand... He sighed and fell silent, lost in the vision of scorched horizons and purple skies. —To the beach —Maya said immediately, with a clear tone of longing— I have never seen the sea.

I could visit Theosyra, or even Jingdao. She paused, and a flash of familiar nostalgia crossed her face. —But even more importantly, to go home and see my family again. Though... the sea has enormous fish, according to the legends. Some with tentacles like trees, others with mouths as big as doors, others with scales like steel armor, or even venomous sea serpents that glow in the dark. —A playful smile drew itself on her lips, her tone changing, becoming practical, like a scholar— Classifying them.

That's what needs to be done. So, they aren't just legends, but earthly creatures, with names and habitats. To understand them. Selena continued, but her tone was different: a nostalgic longing, deep and muffled by the distance of the irretrievable. —To my home. My true home. The words came out in a sigh, almost unintentionally. Then, as if realizing that this confession opened doors to questions impossible to answer, she quickly changed the subject. —I have already been to that desert, Ren. Just sand.

Heat that dries your throat and your soul. Remorseless wind that sculpts the dunes day and night. The nights, cold and dry, with silence so absolute that you can hear yourself fall apart. —She paused, letting the raw, truthful image settle— But you are right. Huge secrets hide between the dunes, and some monsters that are better left unnamed. She sighed, and her tone softened as she addressed Maya. —I don't know the sea, Maya. But we could experience it together. We could even take Ren.

It's not the sand of a desert, but that of a beach will suffice to make him feel on familiar ground. Ren could be heard protesting with a muffled snort, and Selena smiled. —But to be honest... what I desire most is to go where the secrets of this land hide. Forgotten ruins, caves that have never seen a torch, unexplored places. Reading inscriptions in languages like Veritasilba or Volg-Thûr on their original stones. Reading, literally, the foundations of the world, to try to comprehend it.

To know what lies beneath all of this. Both friends weighed the desire in their minds, the invisible question floating. —If you had one wish —Maya asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if she feared that the stars, now luminous in the wide sky, might listen to them and demand a price— what would you ask of the stars? She did not wait for an answer, releasing her own with the off-guard sincerity of someone who has dreamed of these many times. —I would like to be able to stop being a resonant.

To live with my family for the rest of my life. To play with an anurhy without it fearing me. Gathering mushrooms in the forest, healing the neighbors with herbs and common sense, running among the trees without thinking of parchments or mute words. Helping father hunt in the winter, having a family of my own someday, getting married... dying as an old woman, peacefully, in my bed, surrounded by those I love.

Her tone was that of a young woman smiling while talking about a simple and bright future, a future that, for her, was tinged with a beautiful melancholy because she knew, deep down, that it was nearly impossible. Ren took a breath, trying to articulate clearly despite the alcohol and the emotion. —I would ask to be strong. Like father taught me. Not strength for the sake of strength, but... to be a strong man who protects others.

A man who with his arms, with his will, builds a refuge for all those he values and loves. A man with a broad back that makes children feel safe, that makes it, so my mother never has to worry again. An inopportune, loud, and comical hiccup cut off his sentence, robbing it of its solemnity. He fell silent, embarrassed, but the wish had been made clear: it was not glory he sought, but solidity. To be the wall, not the hammer.

Selena took the floor; her tone was graver, more philosophical, burdened with the weight of her experiences and her double perspective. —A wish... do we resonants even have the right to ask for something good? Is our power not already a granted wish, and everything else is just paying the bill? She sighed, a sound that seemed to drag the ashes of old nightmares. —But if I had one... my wish would be for all people to have equity. I am not talking about forced equality, about everyone being the same.

I am talking about inherent dignity. A basic, intangible right that no one can take away from you. Not a noble with his title, not a king with his crown, not even an imagined god on an altar. Simply... being worthy of respect by the fact of being a person. Let that be the fundamental law, written not on parchment, but upon the conscience of everyone. That... would change everything.

The conversation continued to sway with that intimate and revealing rhythm, each wish and each confession weaving a more complex tapestry of their souls. Until the night grew heavier, the air got colder, and the stars shone with an intensity that seemed to demand silence. Then, without ceremony, each headed toward their room, taking with them the echoes of the shared wishes and the light weight of camaraderie.