Somewhere Someplace

A pleasant day. The sun was high at noon, yet its touching heat not overwhelming; perfectly balanced between hot and cold. The sky was clear, yet not excessively blue; puffy and pristine clouds slowly blew their way. It was as if the weather itself was beginning to reflect the arising balance between the seasons; the balance between night and day; gifted by the arriving equinox by…or near enough…this month’s end.

Although, ‘balance’ itself was a…rather…relative construct.

“Ugh…” sweating laments so bounced in the winds; “Autumn’s Eve… Yet why must it be so hot!” Blue by no means could feel any such ‘balance’ in the temperature; for her, this day seemed hotter than it should be for what time of the year it was—oddly so, almost as if she herself was hotter than the air.

Red merely glanced behind, barely; “Take off your big hat” he simply suggested; “You mages don’t always need to wear that thing”.

“…” Blue eyed him with rather the certain eye; “That will not do a single anything!”

“Then take off your mages’ cloak” Red, again, simply suggested; “You’re wearing too much shit”.

“…” Blue’s eye only became more of a certain eye… Indeed, so had spoken the fully armored man… “Or… How about I freeze the air you breathe? That should be refreshingly cooling” she thus suggested.

“Eh, I can hold my breath” Red shruggingly replied.

“…” Blue’s eye only became an even grander certain eye; one so very unamused, even if hardly upset. Calmly yet with darkened eyes, she simply turned her head to the Raven, silent and enigmatic, who sat directly in front. “Heyy, assassin… I know my contract has yet to be officially signed, but… What secrets must I squeak to make you dagger his behind?” Blue casually inquired with a smile.

“Wait one…” Red finally turned his head in detail.

“…” Novea stared, contemplating… “Something of damning condemnation, preferably..” She decided to play along.

“Damning condemnation? Specific wording… So, something that is an affront to Trinity and Heaven, maybe?” Blue began to ponder so… “Well, Red once fucked an ange—”

“Alright!” Red swiftly and loudly interrupted; “Fine, you can freeze the air for all you want! Suffocate me!”

Blue snickered as she turned her sneering eyes; “That is my dear boy, hehe…” She was greatly amused.

Antica sat there, more silent than silence itself, as the world spun and as voices unfurled. It was, in many ways, as if she were not even there; her presence was completely forgettable…

Of course, such was precisely the point. She was to be an enigma; an alien unknown and difficult to understand. Albeit she was already such, of course, even to those shadows who understood more than they admitted; however, now she had to be doubly so… To be totally silent and to not even engage in any combat…

Granted, she was already largely operating as such… After all, it seemed that it was always at the most last of moments when she would so do anything. Those ‘bronze golems’, she recollected… She, and Bee specifically, had the firepower to suppress them; she could have intervened before causalities mounted, even if it meant possibly compromising…her position… Bee’s position…

Truly, to prioritize oneself over the rest, over those who were supposed to be protected, was a contradiction—an affront—to everything she had once sworn to so be.

Though, such always tended to be the case, even in those bygone eons of old…

Ever the contradictions, indeed, your so-called Remnant was

And still is

Yet, in the end, she had intervened during that incident. That Company soldier… He would have been dead if it were not for her intervention… In retrospect, though, that move was rather…impulsive, even if she had no regrets.

And now… even in those moments of such urgency, she would be unable to intervene… Novea’s voice had been rather sternly clear regarding that: Antica was not, under any circumstances, to engage in combat without explicit directives of allowance.

For what and why… she could only hypothesize and wonder…

Pondering, indeed… The night before had continued to linger within her mind; Novea’s snooping of her and her terminal device while she was reconfiguring her M.C.S and that subsequent bitter interaction…

Admittedly, yes, Antica had…willfully exposed some of her terminal device’s functionalities to Novea’s sight a few times prior—never mind other elements of her…true capabilities—yet…that situation was completely different… Operationalizing exactly how was…difficult… There was just…a difference.

Indeed, deep down inside, she found Novea’s unbeknownst snooping the night prior…to have been…

It was hard to describe, let alone comprehend, but she was left with a strange…unpleasant…burning sensation within.

She did not necessarily trust Novea, even after these couple weeks of journey, yet…

Perhaps she was expecting…some kind of mutual understanding…or that Novea would have at least…made her awakening and subsequent snooping overtly known… Indeed, in those prior instances of such snooping, Antica was at least…openly aware that Novea was present and attentive, whereas last night…such had been done completely outside of her awareness…

Perhaps she was more annoyed at herself that she had not even noticed Novea’s covert peeping, or…

Truly, Antica was unable—or was subconsciously unwilling—to engage in the necessary introspection to adequately analyze and comprehend…these flat and hollow yet evident…sensations brewing within, for to comprehend merely these meant…to comprehend everything else.

Nevertheless, the prior night itself aside, this abrupt change in Novea’s behavior and conduct, having turned from one more natural and genuine to one—almost forcefully—cold and distant, remained persistent… Even this morning when Red and Blue had been…off attending to their usual early-doings, Novea did not speak to her like she usually had… And when they had finally spoken, it…lacked the same…something as prior…

It was as if Antica was no longer a partner in this mission as much as…something else…

Hm… Antica had been pondering this all night and all this day… She doubted it was a mere product of random chance—a coincidence—that Novea’s behavior happened to have shifted right after meeting that ‘assigned and stationed’ whoever in Upperberry the day before.

Considering everything she had…seen of this Bureau’s ‘modus operandi’ thus far, it was perhaps the case that Novea herself had been naive to something more regarding this so-called ‘mission’ of theirs; something more that perhaps involved Antica to which she was now no longer as naive due to that meeting, prompting this change in…treatment…

However, considering exactly what Novea was, this change might also certainly be a reflection of matters on a level much higher than merely Novea herself… A reflection of those who tugged at her strings, pulling and affecting. Despite everything throughout this journey, Novea was, ultimately, an operative; spy, assassin, infiltrator, words-weaver, she was to become whatever was so required by that Bureau she so served.

And Antica was beginning to question, indeed, the extent to which this Bureau was truly interested in her being utilized as an operative in this search for Blossom… After all, it was evidently the case that the Bureau had more personnel on this mission—something already obvious by virtue of it being strategically stupid not to, but made evident by fact of things progressing forward despite they themselves having done…nothing, really, besides traveling.

Indeed, the more she cogitated, the more she…struggled to deduce what…exactly her own intended role in this affair was…supposed to be. There had to be more, she pondered, to the purposes and motivations…behind her being sent on this.

After all, the Bureau’s primary frame of reference for Antica had to be primarily of a combat specialist kind, considering her recent…history as an adventurer—not at all a spy or infiltrator or anything truly similar to Novea’s specialties… They were obviously seeing her as something else…

Right, she reflected… All of this began because they had initially been seeking her former associate—‘Gunslinger’. Although that deserter had been far better at being…private than Antica seemed to be, the…exotic peculiarities…inherent to being a Remnant trooper…must have nevertheless raised many questions—questions that Gunslinger was perhaps far better at not allowing to be answered yet were perhaps now finding answers due to Antica’s…lack of equal diligence.

However… Surely, Gunslinger could not have possibly spent more than seven decades—70 years—in this place being so secretive as to have kept everything perfectly enigmatic?

She had to wonder, indeed… How much did this Bureau already know? How much were they still trying to unravel? How much…had her own apathetic tendencies and negligence confirmed? And… Indeed… Was it truly a coincidence that she had been so plucked from Coastfield to be sent off on a mission that happened to be in the very locality within which that…cyanic fury had befallen more than a year prior? Had they made the connection between her and…that event? After all, one merely needed to connect the cyan…

Antica nearly sighed… Truly, she did not know…

Perhaps her unrested mind was overanalyzing and overthinking, jumping to spurious inferences from the little information she truly had… For as much as the things tended to be beyond what they seemed, often times things were as overtly bland and plain as the dirt below.

Though, even dirt is not without its complexity

Nevertheless, one reality was certain since the beginning and was doubly so now: the Bureau’s interest in her was far greater than implied—far deeper than specified… Though, the question still remained regarding as for what…

“Hmm…” Blue’s eyes so attended, wandering and wondering… “I do ponder what is happening inside there…” she so remarked, her peering eyes peering closer, leaning in… “So very…”

Antica’s tingling forehead could feel the encroaching intrusion…

“So pristine… I could swear, is your skin a little sparkly? And is there a bandage wrapped to your head under there? I cannot really…”—her eyes inattentively shifted to Antica’s partially exposed left-arm—“Oh, and I have always wanted to ask but what is that…thing on your forearm, anyhow? A blackened mirror, or…? You have such strange things…” Blue was rather energetic in spite of her apparent lethargy, seemingly.

« … » Antica remained blankly silent, as did Novea.

“Well… It was worth the attempt…” Blue so sighed, withdrawing a little; “I really must wonder…who even is she, if not one of you” she so pondered as she turned to Novea; “Your secrecy in of itself is revealing, surely?”

“Blue…” Red finally turned his eyes… “Didn’t I tell you it’s best to just accept what you don’t know and not ask?”

“Hmm… Maybe… I appear to be ‘misremembering’ again…” Blue merely replied, glancing with teasingly snarky eyes.

“Not your need-to-know.” Novea finally replied, blunt.

“Speaking of ‘need-to-know’…” Red’s sight promptly lanced to Novea; “If you haven’t noticed, we’re starting to enter lower elevation, the grass is starting to become blindly green, and the last armored doorknob we ran into was screaming ‘Lifeberry’; one more hour, and we’ll be in Humbleberry, and after that crossing right through the Dividing River into the eastern bulge. So, how about you start telling us more, huh?”

Hmm… It was rather convenient that this adventurer seemed to just…blurt such descriptors, Antica thus thought.

Novea sighed; “Certainly, fine enough. What do you want to know?”

“You’ve got a head, lady, you can guess!” Red so stated; “What’s the plan?” he asked anyway.

“Once we reach Strawberry County, we head for the namesake city, and then—as with Upperberry—we split…and attend to what we need to attend to… You will be briefed in greater detail afterwards.” Novea explained.

“Ah…” Red so exhaled; “That’s just Bureau speech for ‘I don’t actually know yet; I’ll be told once we get there’…” he bluntly remarked; “Never being told everything in one go, always being moved around and only getting vaguest chunks of shit at a time… You bugs do love keeping your mouths as sealed as a humble women-loving man’s asshole”.

“Hmm…” Blue began to ‘ponder’; “I am certain every women-loving man has been opened down there at least once in his life, surely? For a lady, it hurts; but for a man, that spot was blessed by Mistress Pleasure, so I have heard…”

“Gods’ sacred, Blue… And you call yourself Trinitarian…” Red so said, sighing.

“Hehe” Blue giggled; “Well, I never said that I was Trinitarian, only that my…family was” words spoken, her eyes…drifted down momentarily, though quickly bounced back.

“Just suffocate me already…” Red just replied…

“Hmm… No. Your suffering is cooling enough, to be quite honest.” Blue playfully snickered.

This sort of ‘friendly’ bantering between the two had been the case since the day’s beginning, and would only continue on. Such a stark contrast, truly, compared to their tone the day before…

-||-

“Beh…” such groaning blehs so behed in continuum. “Red… My stomach is miserable—I am miserable… And I feel so disgusting… I am still stained in the blood and guck from that cave…” Blue so lamented, her arms lifelessly dangling out from the wagon’s side as her now nauseated…sweaty face peeked out…

“I know; this isn’t the first time you’ve complained the last hour alone…” Red replied.

Blue glanced at him, her eyes conveying more than needed to be said; “And it shan’t be the last” she stated, before returning her eyes to the…scenery about. “We are in Humbleberry, faster than we thought… So can we…please stop at a town?” her fatigued voice so implored; “I need a bath and an attire cleaning and a pleasant nap upon a comforting bedding—and you need to get your nagin… whatever checked and repaired”.

“Not until we cross into the eastern bulge, as I said…” Red replied; “And besides, my naginata is fine enough… A little freeze was all it was”.

Blue once again began to stare… “Red… It was exposed to a rapid expanding wave-cloud of liquified nitrogen—not a ‘little freeze’…” she…just so casually remarked; “And the fact you have continued to use it regardless has not helped…”

An alien yet familiar…obviously borrowed loanword…having been heard, Antica’s inattention suddenly became…attentive.

“Nitro… Wah?” yet Novea’s breaths…so quietly repeated; she, on the other hand, was…now rather confused.

“And oxygen—don’t forget about the other shit supposedly in air… And yeah, yeah, the freeze made all the moisture in the wood expand, plus the ‘temperature shock’ or whatever” Red just kind of…replied; “But all that did was leave a few cracks in the shaft; the blade’s fine”.

“Oxy… Huh?” Truly, Novea had not the faintest clue as to what they were so casually referencing; it…admittedly made her feel rather stupid, and she did not like feeling stupid. She kept such to herself, of course.

“Ah…” Blue began to sneer, “I often forget there persists traces of genuine intellect within that fleshy head of yours” she teased condescendingly yet good-spiritedly; “Although, it is remarkable how you remain a stubborn idiot…”

“Fuck yourself off and away…” Red replied in kind, by no means hostile.

Blue giggled; “Gladly. You want to watch?” her voice suddenly…shifted.

Red merely sighed to Blue’s continued giggling… “Yep, marched right into that one…”

« Hem… » Antica mumbled… Interesting, these two’s scientific comprehension seemed…surprisingly developed with respect to…her expectations.

Right, so-called ‘Far Western sciences’… She recalled being tested on such many-many months prior during that Collegium…application whatever process; the Collegium had imported such knowledges, which explained Blue’s apparent literacy… Though, that adventurer on the other hand… Hmm…

Yet being not a Green-Coat, Antica could not be bothered to continue pondering such mundanities any further.

Blue settled down, having been humored quite, aheming; “Anyhow, it is always pleasant to see that, in spite of everything, you still have at least some of your Grai—” she was remarking, yet as soon as those first syllables so left her breaths, Red instantly snapped his attention to her with such a lancing glare.

“Blue!” he said, his voice abruptly…louder and more forceful.

Blue immediately caught her tongue, her dominant hand grasping her mouth; “Oh, rightly, I…”—her eyes glanced at Novea and Antica before back to him—“Sorry…” she apologized, her eyes averting off and away and down, lowly and…remorseful; “I had become too lost in the moment…”

“Just… Take a silent break; no more talking…” Red thus said, eyes returning to the path ahead. He was, for reasons untold, upset. Even though Blue had not completed the words she was about to say, nevertheless…what had been uttered had done enough.

For indeed…

“Hm.” Novea so mumbled, pondering, her curiosity having been rather piqued… She would not be what she was if it were not within her instincts to be naturally…interested in others’ deepest and most private secrets, and it was obvious Blue was about to slip. Of course, as always, she kept such to herself… Not relevant to her one and only priority, even if…she, perhaps, wanted to know…the secret.

A silence ensued as the wagon continued making way; a silence only interrupted once by a single random and abhorrent “Neigh.” from that unicorn, which…was, for reasons beyond mortal comprehension, clopping forth significantly faster this day than any other day prior.

Blue’s arms were once again dangling out from the wagon’s edges, eyes staring out as she perhaps hid the…nausea being experienced. “Feeling cold and hot, both at once…” she softly mumbled… Her eyes looking down at one of the sacks droopingly attached to the wagon’s exterior, her hand rummaged through it and took out what…appeared to be some kind of prismatic mass of…hexagonal cells… She proceeded to munch on it as she scootingly turned herself back around.

And for whatever reason, Novea’s attention had been caught.

Munching away, Blue noticed a certain evident…stare—not at her, minded… One apparent even if the source wore a mask. She promptly split this…edible mass of prismatic hexagons into two; “Sweet-comb?” she gently offered, extending the half-piece to Novea’s sight.

“Uhm…” Novea struggled to maintain her persona; “No thank you.” she replied, attempting to retain a cold disinterest in voice. Yet her mask-obscured eyes…remained locked onto that so-called ‘sweet-comb’, as if the entire microbiome inhabiting her gut was crying out to her brain with demanding interest, wanting but a single bite.

Indeed, having spent this entire journey eating nothing but…dried salted meat, aged bread, and travel nuts, the sight of something sweet and flavorful was…certainly one to be beheld.

Yet, “Hm, alrightly…” Blue, looking a little weary, simply acknowledged. Her hand then drifted to that other gal who sat statically next; “Sweet-comb?” she offered courteously. “Food—to clarify… Tasty food—surely, you can smell?” she quickly added, since…right, this one was blind, apparently.

Antica, unable to rely on scent considering the filtering obscurences of her Remnant facemask, simply shook her head in a silent no.

Blue sighed… “Oh well, then…” Her offering hand withdrew. It was…rather uncourteous in these lands—generally, though especially amongst ladies—to eat that which had just been offered in front of those who had been offered, even if they had refused. Thus, she placed the other half back into that same sack from which she had retrieved.

Her mind proceeded to drift off as she gazed out with dangling arms, uncomfortable and bored, periodically munching away on those ‘sweet-combs’.

Truly, the majority of their travels were seemingly such scenes: utterly mundane and uneventing; things done to merely let time pass.

And time certainly began to pass; it flowed forth as if a stream washing and tossing, interrupted only once by quite the line of armed and levied souls accompanying wagons marching way.

Although Blue was hardly one to tolerate prolonged periods of silence, and despite having been rather chatty and energetic moments prior, she became awfully silent; a silence disturbed by occasional…mellow groans of growing discomfort.

Before…all so randomly…

“Nugh…” Blue groaned, her head still peeking out from the wagon’s edges, before rather suddenly… “Uck-bleh” she proceeded to expunge her stomach’s contents both onto the road below and into that very sack of sweet-combs…

Respirating, caught by surprise, realizing… “Red…” thus she spoke with a throat more acidicly swore, her eyes turning to he who was already…staring; “I believe… I know why I have been…feeling so…miserable and sweaty…”

“Yeah… No shit…” Red so replied… It looked like they were going to have to stop for the day after all, for he did not want to push Fortune’s ever-conditional luck by continuing to travel with Blue in such an emerging state.

Thus, in the end, Red proceeded to redirect course in a rather dull and boring side-venture to the nearby free village of—so aptly named—Restberry so that Blue could let this aliment pass in better comfort.

Blue’s fever was ultimately just a mild—even if over-active—immune response induced by a foodborne contamination, as Antica would surmise. She would largely recover by the next day, albeit with a sensitive stomach. To Blue’s dismay, however, the fairly pricy and…now vomit-ruined…sweet-combs were unable to be saved; condemned to be fed to that unicorn for disposal, along with the foodstuffs suspected to have been the cause.