The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

Abbey Gardens | 5:22 PM | First Day

As I understood it, the symbol was something of a statement of ideological intent by the Order. That the pursuit of infinite life, rather than being a twisted practice separate from normal medicine, was in truth its natural extension. That it was illogical to call oneself a 'healer' while refusing to acknowledge that the foundational principle of it being worthwhile to prolong human life led inevitably to the imperative to prolong it indefinitely. It was a callout, basically; a way of calling traditional doctors and healers hypocrites.

...but it was hard not to the read alternative meanings into the symbol. After all, the ouroboros was also an emblem representing futility. The pursuit of the self-destructive or fundamentally unattainable.

Kam, of course, made no such interpretation; she looked about ready to salute it like a national flag as she stepped over to the platforms. I followed behind.

"I'd set my luggage down, too, but I'm afraid it would be a little redundant," Kamrusepa said, gesturing to her own platform as she strode up towards where Lilith, Mehit, and the servant were standing.

"How do those things work, anyway?" Ptolema asked, doing the same. She didn't seem interested in relinquishing her single item of baggage, keeping it slung over her shoulder. "I'm lousy with machines."

"Lilith would be able to give a much better explanation than me, I'm sure."

Lilith didn't respond to this, simply lugging her own baggage in silence.

Kamrusepa chuckled, shaking her head a little, then turned back to Ptolema. "It's an artifice. Just a simple logic engine to give it a sense of where the ground is, and an incantation to make it follow and move, Ptolema."

"Oh," She scratched the side of her neck. "That's kinda a let-down."

An 'artifice' referred to any device, or more broadly any human creation, that required the Power in order to function properly. Though this afforded tremendous advantages in creating pretty much anything, it was a limitation in that arcana couldn't be simply enabled or disabled - by nature, they used up the energy they had at their disposal, then failed and needed to be recast. Even runes that contained complete incantations still needed a human being to recite the words of initiation and punctuation to work.

This meant that anything dependent on the Power required an arcanist to renew its functionality on an intermittent basis. While this was fine for specialist equipment and things that were utilized frequently by the public, it meant you rarely saw personal objects with any arcane element.

A qualifier to this explanation is that it didn't mean that the Power wasn't involved in the construction of most things - quite the opposite. Fortified bronze, steelwood, the echoglass used in logic engines... All of them were manufactured using incantations, and couldn't physically arise otherwise. There was a difference between an artifice and something artificed, merely made with the Power.

Kamrusepa snorted. "Sadly, we're still quite a ways off from a little thing like this being able to float on its own power. How would that even work? Gas? Pressurized air...? I suppose it could theoretically exert the force electromagnetically, but it's hard to imagine how such a thing could be achieved, without iron."

"Heh, it's unlike you to be cynical about technology, Kam," Seth said.

"I'm not being cynical. I said it would be difficult, not impossible," she said objectionably. "Why, do you have some kind of suggestion of how it could be done?"

"You could try to imitate it biologically," he said. "Y'know, maybe like a hummingbird--"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Kam said, not even letting him finish. "Even putting aside how little weight it would be able to bear, it would be far too noisy. Cacophonous, even."

While the two of them bickered, I hauled my luggage up onto one of the platforms, assisted by Bardiya, for whom I offered a muttered words of thanks. He turned to help Ran in turn, but she waved him off. She didn't like handing over things to other people, even for trivial affairs like this. Ophelia, meanwhile, was stacking hers up herself, with the exception of the box, which she kept on hand.

At one point, Seth gestured to it and gave her a knowing look, to which she responded with an expression of embarrassment. Presumably, there was some Biomancer-secrecy going on between them.

"You're all ready to go, then?" the servant asked, her tone impassive.

"Uh, looks like it," I said," glancing around to see everyone else's progress. Then I actually turned to get a good look at the woman for the first time, and was taken aback.

She was a tall woman, dressed in a the kind of grey, laced dress that you'd normally expect to see on a servant, and looked Lluateci, with soft facial features and a dark, red-tinted complexion. Her hair, tied into a ponytail, was black and wavy, with what looked like blue highlights.

And she was outrageously, offensively good looking. She had one of the most ideally-proportioned faces I'd seen in my entire life. High cheekbones, a jaw that was just a little wide in a fashion that conveyed maturity without being masculine, soft, bright green eyes. Lips that started off thin in the corners but were lush in the center, perfect eyebrows...

And that's to say nothing of her limbs, which were all incredibly long and skinny, not to mention graceful in their movements. Almost having a tree-branch quality, like she was some kind of fucking dryad.

I considered myself to be reasonably pretty. My family had been well-off enough for me to have had good distinction treatment, and people would compliment me relatively often. Sometimes, by virtue of the sheer statistics, they were probably even being sincere rather than acting out of social obligation. But looking at her, I felt like some sort of paleolithic throwback, a misshapen ape-creature that had just emerged from a primeval swamp.

I'd assigned this lady the label 'servant' when I'd seen her in my peripheral vision based on where she was standing and the rough colour of her clothes, but could a person like this possibly be a servant? Someone who was here to run around doing errands for us? The notion felt incorrect, even though I was annoyed that it felt incorrect.

Oh, gods. I suddenly realized she'd made eye contact with me while I was gawking at her, and now had her eyebrows raised raised in a expectant look. Quickly, say something, or else or she's going to think you're some kind of pervert! I opened my mouth to speak, but the part of my consciousness that was supposed to generate some kind of generic question to fill the conversational void couldn't keep up.

"Uhh... Nnngh." I said, my tongue immobile at the base of my mouth.

She stared at me for a moment with a surprised, puzzled expression, then suddenly broke into laughter, a grotesquely pretty look of amusement lighting up her face. "You, uh, wanna try that again, kid?"

"U-Um," I glanced to the side, clearing my throat. "S-Sorry. I meant to say, uh. Who are you, exactly?

"Oh, right!" Seth suddenly chimed. "We didn't introduce you, did we?"

"Eh, it's okay," she said to him, with a casual shrug. "I only met you guys a few minutes ago anyway. I can introduce myself." She looked back at my direction. "I'm Sacnicte."

"Heh, it's gonna be tough to get the pronunciation for that right," Seth said.

"Don't worry," she replied flippantly. "I'll probably fuck up all of your names for the whole weekend."

Sacnicte. Yep, that's a Lluateci name, I observed to myself. She's probably from the Duumvirate. That would make sense, if this sanctuary is connected to the Empyrean Bastion.

The Lluatec were one of the two Parties that had abstained from settling the Mimikos in the aftermath of the Covenant Schism (or at least that was the Grand Alliance's side of the story; in the Duumvirate, it went that they were forbidden from settling) and instead made their homes in the smaller, more experimental habitats created by the Ironworkers in the Empyrean-- Though by the modern era, they made their own, too. Of the two, the Lluateci, who today were divided into six nations of varying influence and power, were regarded as the more xenophilic of the two, and had traded with the polities of the Mimikos since the 8th century.

Even so, they were nonetheless a rare sight on the surface, even in Ysara, which had the largest migrant population. I only knew a handful at the academy.

"Your Ysaran is very good," I said, because it is a matter of cultural necessity to ritually embarrass yourself in this way when meeting a foreigner.

"Thanks," she said, flatly.

"Uh, so," I went on. "Are you a servant of the order? What exactly is your role here?"

"Servant is kiiiinda right," she said, glancing upward thoughtfully. God, all of her motions were somehow amazing. I doubted you could take a bad photograph if you tried. "The formal title is 'steward', I guess? A few of us mind this place when no one is around, make sure everything keeps running and no one tries to sneak in and steal anything."

"Mm, I've heard of roles like that before," Kamrusepa said. "Arcanist conclaves will sometimes give them to apprentices to try and test their trustworthiness before bringing them deeper into the organization." She made a thoughtful expression. "Well, and to extract some free labor. You know how these affairs go..."

"I'm not an apprentice or anything like that," Sacnicte said. "I'm not even part of the order, really. This is just contract work." She crossed her arms idly. "But I am supposed to run errands, along with everything else? Keep things clean when the golems go wrong, help guests out? And I wear this thing, so hell, I guess I am a servant." She seemed to find the notion amusing.

"Well, servant or not, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Kamrusepa said, beaming wildly.

"Likewise," she said, then widened her eyes slightly, seeming to remember something. "Oh, right, shit. I need to give you guys the pamphlets, too-- Hold on a sec." She reached to the side, popping open a small bag built into her uniform.

"Pamphlets?" I asked.

"A program for the weekend," Bardiya explained, as he finished helping Lilith and her mother with their bags as well. "Nothing altogether unexpected."

Sacnicte, having managed to find the leaflets in question, began distributing them among the women in our group. They were surprisingly high-effort for something created for the sake of 11 people, the folded parchment laminated and with a silver metallic trim. The seal of the Order was again displayed prominently on the front.

I peered down at the one I'd been given, adjusting my glasses. It read:

Welcome, guests from the Old Yru Academy of Medicine and Healing Exemplary Acolyte's Class!

We, the Discretionary Council of the Order of the Universal Panacea, are honored to welcome you to our sanctuary. Please feel free to relax and make yourselves at home, while taking a moment to review this program so that you might know what to expect over the course of your stay, and how best to make this experience a productive and fruitful one. If you have any questions, please feel free to direct them to the steward from which you received this document.

Your visit will span four days, during which time you will be comprehensively accommodated in the Old Abbey House, our guest facility. You will be provided with individual bedrooms, including washrooms and logic bridges with personal communication access, which you may make use of at your leisure. Please note that the address of any outgoing summons will be stored for reasons of security. You may also partake in all communal spaces with the building, and take any food, drink, or disposable items freely. (If you are confused as to what constitutes a 'disposable item', please consult the list on the reverse side.)

The evening of your arrival has been set aside for you to settle in at your leisure. During this period or any other free time, we encourage you to explore the sanctuary freely, avoiding only areas that are locked or otherwise marked as forbidden for entry. If you should find a member of our Order, please feel free to approach them and ask any questions you might have. You are here as ambassadors of the wider medical community; curiosity is encouraged! Should you become lost, simply locate one of the many logic bridges in our hallways. Our arcane facility management system can provide you with rudimentary guidance.

The conclave proper shall take place on Saturday, and will be broadcast from the conference hall in our inner sanctum. You will be asked to assemble at 12:00 noon outside the building, while the event itself will begin at 1:00 PM. It is expected to last 3-4 hours. Please make the necessary preparations. Following this, an optional review session will be held at 6:30 PM for anyone who wishes to discuss their projects further.

On Sunday, you will have the opportunity to engage in personal academic and career consultation sessions with the members of the Discretionary Council, who will make themselves available in their offices in our research tower between the hours of 11:00 AM and 6:00 PM, with the exception of an hour's pause at lunch. Consultations will be divided into 30 minute sessions, with the option to request an additional 30 minutes as an extension, and will be offered on a first-come-first-serve basis. Finally, an informal open session will be held in the main hall with all council members present at 9:00 PM.

Across the weekend, meals will be served as follows: Breakfast at 8:30 AM in Abbey House dining hall. Lunch at 1:30 PM in the Abbey House dining hall, with the exception of Saturday, when a lighter lunch will instead be served at noon outside the conference hall. Dinner at 8:00 PM at the Temple Building dining hall. Breakfast and lunch will be presented as self-serve buffets available for two hours each, while dinner will be served traditionally. Your pre-stated dietary preferences have been accounted for, so no need to worry about going hungry!

Departure will be at 11:00 AM on Monday morning. Please have your bags packed and ready at the Abbey House doors at this time.

Thank you, and we look forward to meeting you all soon.

There was more in finer print on both sides of the document - including an extremely comprehensive list of things they 'reserved the right to pursue legal action' over if we did - but that was it for the main body.

"Yeesh," Ptolema said, as she read her copy. "Kinda babying us through this, huh?" She flipped it over.

"I don't think they let you take the towels, Ema," Seth said with a smirk.

She blew a raspberry at him. "Don't be weird. I'm just checkin' to see if they've got mouthwash." She squinted. "Think I left mine behind."

"Personal consultation sessions..." Kamrusepa muttered, narrowing her eyes.

"So, shall we get moving?" Sacnicte asked.

"Please," Mehit said.

With that, our party, which was now at the level of size where people were breaking off into smaller groups and talking among themselves, began to make its way down the pathway towards the guesthouse. I ended up near the back, alongside Ran. One thing that I'd begun to notice about the garden was that, even though the air felt remarkably fresh, the lack of wind made the environment feel notably artificial after a little while. Not a bad artificial, per-se, but it added to the surrealism of the environment.

It was like a stronger version of the phenomena I mentioned with the Great Lamp earlier; something in my brain knew that what I was seeing was, on some level, fake, even if superficially it appeared normal. And that falseness kept striking me whenever my mind focused on it.

I really couldn't understand why the order would bother maintaining something like this. Ptolema's initial observation had been on the nose - a well-decorated indoor environment would have sufficed.

There were numerous pressing questions about our circumstances.

Of course, I raised the most important of them.

"Ran," I said, quietly.

"Mm?" She glanced up at me.

"That woman they're having escort us... Uh, the steward..."

Ran raised a hand to her face and began rubbing her eyes with a discontent expression, seemingly having already anticipated what was coming next. "Su, I hope you're not about to get weird with me and go on about how pretty you think she looks. I haven't drunk enough to have that one of those conversations with you right now."

"W-What? No!"I said, frowning and looking slightly embarrassed. "I was just going to ask if her role seemed strange to you. Someone who's supposed to be a steward, but who isn't part of the order, and for whom this is 'just a contract' - and from outside the Grand Alliance, too--"

"Uh huh," she said, her expression skeptical.

"Don't make this peculiar, Ran," I said firmly.

"You were sure glaring at her like that for a solid 30 seconds," she said. "And sounded like you were having a seizure when you opened your mouth."

Fuck, I thought. Was it really 30 whole seconds?

Sometimes, I really wished Ran was less observant. A lot less observant, preferably. Between her and Kam, I couldn't get away with a single faux pas.

I clicked my tongue. "I mean... It's not like I'm attracted to her," I said. "But, uh, she is incr-- I mean, kind of striking, you have to admit. " I furrowed my brow. "I'm surprised no one else seems to be saying anything. Seth most of all, considering, uh... Y'know..."

Ran sighed. "Everyone's an adult here, Su. It shouldn't be a surprise to you that they have better self-control over their responses to people than the average 14 year old boy."

The implication being, evidently, that I didn't.

"So, you do think she's like that? That I'm not losing my mind?"

Ran stared at me for a few moments, then shrugged, turning to look in the direction of our destination. "She's pretty good-looking. Statuesque, maybe."

"But I mean really good looking, rather," I said, dying on this hill. "Not just in a mundane way, in a one-in-a-million way. The sort of person who ends up being world famous, like as a model, or a songstress, or in some epic poem..."

"No, I wouldn't say she's that amazing," she replied, in a tone so utterly flat that a nomadic steppe-culture could be established on it. "Can I veto the rest of this conversation?"

"Oh, come on--"

"What are you two girls whispering about?" Seth said in a lively tone, turning around to face us in response to Ran starting to speak. "Nothing about me, I hope?"

"Su was just telling me how much she admires your sense of restraint," Ran said.

I snapped my mouth shut tightly. This was not a topic I was comfortable continuing in the company of anyone else, let alone a guy. He'd absolutely get the wrong idea. I made a focused effort to put the subject out of my mind for the time being.

"Pfft, that sounds unlikely," Ptolema, who was standing next to him, said.

"Heeey, c'mon, Ema," he said, with a playful expression. "You know me! I'm the most restrained guy you'd ever meet!"

"Yeah, right," she said, and rolled her eyes. "My dog's probably more restrained than you, and my dad has to keep him locked in the house so he doesn't tear up all the roses."

"Man, you won't even let me take compliments," he said with a smile, shaking his head. "My ego's gonna be in tatters by the time this weekend is over."

"Ran was just kidding around," I said, hesitant. "Uh, not to say I don't think so, I mean. I do think you can be pretty restrained."

"Heh, I getcha." He stretched his arms up in the air casually, before letting them flop back down to his sides. "Coming from a serious girl like you, that means a lot, Su."

Gods, we really didn't know each other very well.

"I'm not sure what to say to that," I said.

He chuckled.

Seeing him from behind now, his clothes looked even more scuffed up. The back of his white tunic and blue longskirt were both stained with dirt, and his exposed elbows were grazed, too.

"What happened to you, anyway?" I asked.

"Eh?" He looked behind at me, again.

"Your clothes are all messed up," I said, gesturing. "Was that from the argument Bardiya said happened? With Ezekiel?"

"Ooh. Nah, nah." He made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Not this time. I just slipped in the mud and got all dirty when I was rushing around in the rain. Should've learned a trick to stop it like you!"

"I'm always telling you to buy an umbrella," Ptolema said.

"Weren't you soaking wet, when you tracked us down this morning?" Ran said.

"Yeah, but I don't care," she replied. "But he's always running around under overhangs and falling on his face. 'Cause he's got two left feet."

"Hey, it's not my fault Ysaran's build their roads so lumpy and narrow," he said. "And I don't wanna get an umbrella. Can't get too accustomed to the terrible weather in the bay, or I'll stop missing home."

This statement made sense to me. If you got too used to living in a foreign place, you could start to lose something, a bit. A subtle discomfort that pulls you back.

"I could never get used to the sun when I was living in Mekhi," I said. "It would tear right through me and make me feel like I was going to pass out. I had to carry a parasol just to get through the walks to the House of Resurrection."

"Heh, I bet an aloof Saoic girl like you twirling a parasol around drew a lot of attention in Tem-Aphat," he said.

I blinked, taking a moment to process the words, then frowned and blushed, looking downward with embarrassment.

"Oh, uh, sorry," he said, seeming suddenly embarrassed too. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, or anything like that."

"It's okay," I said, avoiding eye contact awkwardly.

"Quit being a creep, Seth," Ptolema told him.

"Yeah, yeah."

Our walk up the path came to an end as we arrived at the doorway to the building. It looked a lot older, close up. The stone was stained, with some vines and moss growing up the sides, and the wooden elements had the darkened, hardened character that you only saw with old structures. That combined with the angular, Second Resurrection period Rhunbardic architectural style gave it a stately, noble air. Like it belonged in a countryside villa, rather than... Well, whatever this place was.

A bronze sign attached to the side of the double doors at the entrance identified it as the building described in the pamphlet: 'Abbey House', written in Inotian rather than Ysaran, for some reason. Ophelia, who was still looking pretty worse for wear, looked at it carefully.

"Well now," Mehit said, actually sounding relaxed. "This looks rather lovely. What an unexpected surprise."

A bizarre surprise, more like, I thought. This is starting to verge on surreal.

"Abbey, huh," Seth said, also noticing. "I don't think I see a church..."

"Heh, maybe not yet," Sacnicte said. "C'mon, I'll show you inside."

"Ah, hold on just a moment," Kamrusepa said. "Bardiya, did you know where Theodoros and his father were headed? Were they going somewhere private?"

"No, I don't think so," he said, with a shake of his head. "I believe there's a lounge just near the entrance. They were settling down in there."

"Oh, my," Kam said, a little anxiety suddenly in her voice. "I better compose myself..." She straightened her back, taking a few deep breaths.

"C'mon, Kam," Ptolema said. "It's only Theo's dad. You don't gotta get all anxious."

"Only Theo's Dad, Ptolema?" She scoffed. "We're talking about one of the greatest Transmutation arcanists of our era. How could I not be a little anxious?"

"This is a rare side of you, Kam," Seth said. "It's kinda cute."

"You--" She jabbed a finger at him. "You keep your mouth shut." She inhaled, then twisted the door handle herself.

Sacnicte led us inside. The interior was modestly decorated a similar archaic charm. True to Bardiya's word, the entrance fed right into a little lounge-esque enclave, with several plush chairs assembled around a tea table and a fireplace, though it was presently unlit. On a side wall was an ornate-looking clock which reported the time as just short of half past five.

And by that fireplace...

Was Theodoros - looking slightly anxious, as he almost always did, though a little better than this morning - and another much older man in a wooden wheelchair who greatly resembled him. He had the same softer-than-average Inotian features and thin lips, thick red hair, and the beginnings of lines on his face. He was also a little overweight, with a heavy gut, and was dressed in a casual-looking, pale green tunic and a thick, sandy-colored longskirt. The clothes of a much poorer man, or one who was simply apathetic.

His eyes were bright brown, tired, and had a certain meekness. But somewhere in that gaze, there was a sharpness to them that you rarely saw; of someone who had spent a very, very long time learning to look at things very, very carefully.

"Ah," he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. His voice was high for a man, but he spoke in low tones. "Good to see the rest of you all made it here safely, too."

Linos of Melanthos. Theodoros's father, and one of the six members of the inner circle of the Order of the Universal Panacea who had revealed their identities a decade and a half ago. But prior to that, I'd known him as the distant but kindly father of a close childhood friend.

But neither of these was what he was known for publicly. Rather, most would recognize his face from academic journals, portraiture at universities, and newsheets, all on account of his status as the man who had all but literally written the book on the subject of organ synthesization using the Power. The visionary behind the Melanthian Formula, the equation that allowed one to modify an incantation intended to produce a generic organ to one specialized specifically for the body of the patient.

A Great Arcanist, by any standard.

Even before the others had mentioned him having waited for Theodoros at the entrance, I'd been expecting him to be the first one we'd meet. He was known as the most personable and least eccentric member of the inner circle.

"It is very good to meet you, sir," Kamrusepa said, stepping forward into the lounge and holding out a hand. "On behalf of all my class, allow me to say how much of a tremendous honor--."

"Please, there's no need for any of that," he said, reorienting his chair slightly and taking her hand, giving her what looked like a soft but affectionate shake. "I'm the one honored to be meeting with you; I'm not sure I'm qualified to speak for the whole Order, but thank you for accepting the invitation. You must be Kamrusepa, the class representative?"

"That's right, sir," she said, her tone uncharacteristically meek.

He nodded, holding the smile. "Theo was just telling me about you."

"Oh?" She glanced to him for a moment, then broke into an awkward smile herself. "At least some of it good, I hope...?"

"More or less all of it so far," he said kindly. "When I asked if he expected your group would any problems, he said that you were always very well-organized, so he didn't expect any."

"Oh..." Kam looked genuinely flattered. "Why, thank you, Theo. That's very kind of you to say."

"Uh, no problem," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "T-Though, I didn't put it in those exact words..."

"Probably called her fussy or something," Ptolema said quietly, as the platforms with our luggage slowly filed in after Sacnicte. There were some snickers and general murmurs of assent.

I speculated to myself that he had probably called her something a little more severe than 'fussy', but that was neither here nor there.

"In any event," Linos said, "there's no need to stop and chat yet on my account. Go get settled in and the like; I'll be here all weekend." He looked over to the aforementioned 'statuesque' servant. "Sacnicte, could you show everyone to their rooms?"

"No problem, sir," she said. Casually, she withdrew a cigarette from the inside of her cloak, and lit a match.

Oh gods, I thought. She smokes, too. She's so cool!

"I want to change my clothes, mother," Lilith said, abruptly.

"Yes, dear, of course," Mehit said. She turned towards the servant. "Excuse me, but may I ask if our rooms have their own separate lavatories? The phrasing on the guide was somewhat vague."

"Mm? Oh, yeah, they do," she replied, with a nod. "Baths and showers, too. Nothing shared."

Seth whistled. "Woooh. This is gonna be a lot comfier than I expected." He called out to Linos. "Thanks a lot!"

"I didn't build it, so I'm not sure I can take credit," he said, with a chuckle. "But you're very welcome all the same."

"C'mon, Seth," Ptolema said. "Let's get you outta here before you make a total ass of yourself."

Ptolema, Mehit, Lilith, and Ophelia followed after Sacnicte down the hall. Kamrusepa, however, was undeterred.

"You're very gracious, sir, but I'd love to speak to you now, if you'd be willing?" She said. "I have quite a lot to unpack, so once I get started, I expect I won't be truly done until after dinner. And, well-- I've just been so excited to speak to someone from your group."

Though Kam often played up her emotions for dramatic effect, this girlish enthusiasm actually seemed completely sincere. It was funny, seeing it from her, but also kind of endearing.

"Ahh, I'm not being presumptuous, am I?" she went on, almost neurotically. "Are we going to be served dinner, or should we be seeing to it ourselves?"

Linos seemed to find the attitude charming, too, his small smile widening a little, exposing the wrinkles on his face. "I wasn't going to say so until a little later, but yes, dinner will be served tonight. Though it'll be a little late since everyone is still coming in - probably about 8:30." He raised his voice a little for a moment to reach those departing. "Help yourself to any snacks if you're hungry, by the way! There's a pantry down the hall!" He turned back to her, with a slightly embarrassed look. "Not sure if they heard me."

Kamrusepa laughed a little bit, holding the side of her hand to her mouth, and Linos laughed along with her. He'd always been like this; fast friends will almost anyone, especially young people.

Since Theo had been my friend when I was a child (as a result of, if you haven't inferred as much already, the relationship between Linos and my grandfather) I'd obviously known him long before all of this. I - Utsushikome - had held a lot of affection for him, in those days, almost seeing him as an uncle. He was always nice, always generous with his time...

Of course, things were a little more complicated now. Talking to him was inevitably going to be sort of awkward; the dynamic was strange. I didn't know if it was better to approach him as an old family friend, or as an academic superior, or what.

But putting it off would only make the situation worse.

I'd stayed behind as the others left, along with Ran. Since this seemed like as good a moment as any, I stepped forward towards him.

As soon as he noticed my specific approach, Linos's expression changed subtly. His smile became a little more distant, and something in his eyes a bit softer.

"Ah, Utsushikome," he said, his tone gentle. "It's good to see you again."

"Thank you, s... Sir," I said. "It's good to see you too."

The word 'sir' had felt wrong coming off my tongue. It wasn't something I'd ever called him when I was a child. But somehow, in this context, addressing him by his first name felt equally peculiar.

He looked me up and down. "Good heavens, I'd forgotten how tall you'd gotten. What did you end up at...?"

"Uh, five seven," I said. "Well, closer to five eight..."

The others had gone quiet, presumably not wanting to interrupt this reunion, though Ran wore a stiff, odd look, for reasons that no one but the two of us would understand. It always happened, whenever anything adjacent to the subject was discussed.

"My goodness." He crossed his arms, shaking his head, "Well, it always ran in your family, I suppose. Your grandfather used to joke that he'd have have an easier time talking to me if he wasn't always staring at the top of my head. Though that was back when I could walk, so it's not quite as mean as it probably sounds."

I wasn't sure what response he wanted from me. In absence of a better one, I tried to smile, pushing one of my braids away from my face.

"He could be a little abrasive, true," he went on, his eyes now turning a little downward. "But no one could accuse him of not having a sense of humor. And he was good to his friends, when it mattered the most." He nodded to himself, then looked back up to face me. "The two of you really do look alike, you know."

"That's, uh, what people say," I said.

"If you were a man, I bet it would be almost uncanny." He exhaled. "How long has it been since I last saw you, Utsushikome?"

2419 days, my mind provided. And it was afternoon, at four, on that last visit. Me at the dining table, eating biscuits, struggling to know what to say to Theodoros.

"Nearly seven years, I think," I said. "When I left for Tem-Aphat."

"Seven years..." He sighed. "The time really does get away from you."

Doesn't it just, though? You can still taste the sugar, if you focus hard enough. How much of what you're trying to preserve has slipped away since then? Down through the hole in the bottom of the bowl. Drip, drip...

"Yeah," I said.

"I never would have imagined I'd be seeing you here back, back in those days," he said. "Uh-- Not to speak low of your talents, of course! Just that, well. Back then, it was still a bit of an open question how much we'd be opening ourselves up to the outside world. Still taking our first baby steps."

"You seldom talked about your work, back then," Theo said. "Even to me."

"Indeed," Linos said. "I wish I'd been more open to you both, when you were still children. And to your mother, too." A regretful expression crossed his eyes for a moment, but then they flicked back towards me, once again full of kindness. "It's a bit of a cliche, I know, and I know you hardly knew each other. But I'm sure he would have been proud of you, all the same."

"Thank you," I said. The words came out a little stiff.

"Um," Kamrusepa interjected, warily. "I know I said I was excited, but I can wait until later to ask questions, if you'd prefer to catch up on your own..."

"Oh, no! No, forgive me," he said, suddenly looking a little embarrassed. "I'm just getting a little too sentimental. Product of old age, you understand."

"Perhaps you ought to be looking for a cure for that here, then?" Kamrusepa joked, though it came out more insecure than her jokes normally did.

Linos broke into a chuckle anyway. "Not sure we'll ever crack that one, I'm afraid. Though you never know, Zeno might have some ideas."

This was in reference to Zeno of Apocyrion, one of the most senior members of the conclave; the founder of Neuromancy, who I mentioned a while ago. Of all the inner circle, he was probably the most renowned. It was a little surreal to think he was probably already somewhere in the structure, and to hear him referenced so casually...

"I also have a nasty habit of forgetting the other people around me when I'm talking to someone. Speaking of which--" He turned and regarded Ran, pointing his finger. "You're... Ran of Hoa-Trinh, right?"

"That's right, sir," she said, her tone formal.

"You're a friend of Utsushikome's, aren't you? I think I met you once when the two of you were younger. Hell of a thing that you both ended up in the exemplary acolyte's class."

"Yes, sir."

I glanced in her direction for a moment. Those might have been the words that came out of her mouth, but the ones that came out of her eyes were 'luck had nothing to do with it'.

"Well, it's good to meet you properly. Any friend of Utsushikome and Theodoros is a friend of mine, as well." He gave her a respectful nod, then looked back to Kam. "Now, then. As I'd meant to say, I don't mind fielding a few questions."

"Wonderful!" She said, her eyes lighting up.

"Though," he said mirthfully, "As a warning, you might be surprised at how clueless I'm capable of being. Frankly, I probably know less than half of what I ought to, being up in the ranks of this place."

She laughed a little bit, then put a finger to her mouth. "Well, I'll start with something simple. It feels a bit silly to ask, really, but to begin with... I've been wondering where we are, exactly? What is this place?"

He looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. "You didn't notice when you came in? Outside of the glass?"

"I'm afraid not," she said. "I couldn't make much out other than... Maybe some vague shapes? Like fog?"

He blinked, then broke into a small chuckle. "Is that right? Well, I suppose now that I'm thinking about it, I can believe someone without context might not know what they're looking at. Or maybe where they're looking at is more appropriate?"

She looked confused, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I would've thought the mural might've given a hint. What you're seeing isn't fog, it's water," he said. "We're at the bottom of the sea."