Ami finally seemed to be settling in, slowly but surely.
The inside of her cup had taken on a greenish tint from the sheer volume of coffee consumed. Amelia's own innards had most likely followed suit.
It made her a bit more Omillian.
She snorted in satisfaction, sipping the coffee Kimi had warmed for her.
The dawn was off to a cracking start, and exploiting the native populace definitely appealed to her. So refreshing.
While sifting through mountains of tablets, she'd not only kept abreast of practically all the recent cases but had also unearthed several intriguing ones that niggled at her.
The Archivist felt a strong urge to make a note of them and analyse them in her spare time. Perhaps because it was certainly more interesting than the habitual Kantinian "Strange dent in Ada's field" or "Mysterious disappearance of an enormous ale cask".
The most miraculous thing was that Amelia had even managed to start investigating the peculiar symbols. Utterly unique symbols, to be true.
What hadn't she compared them to yet? More potential references were needed. She wished she worked in the VST. She'd always wished.
Her list of shattered dreams was much longer than her list of clues. So, back to the clues. What if it wasn't a natural language? Obviously.
Did the VST suspect a certain "group" already? A non-human group, maybe.
There were some utterly unstudied creatures on Malinland. Like Dwarves. Or Ocean creatures. What was known about the latter? They chased off anyone trying to enter the water. And killed. That usually marked the end of communication, at least as far as Ami knew.
Did they have a writing system? No one knew. But what business would they have on the surface? To exterminate everyone, ensuring no one ventured into the water?
Anyway, the VST took all the materials on this case, and some bright heads—excluding Ami—were already working on them. This meant the direction of enquiry could be dropped.
…And it was so vexing…
Brilliant cases were for shiny individuals. And what she deserved was a routine serving.
She sighed contentedly, sipped her coffee, and surveyed the heroically tidied space she'd brought to order in the shortest time, much to Milo's delight.
She had settled into the role of Archive overlord and made peace with her local clay population. One must do what one can, if one cannot do things the other way.
The against— her— will Secretary was constrained, practically locked away from all light in this dark corner, which… she almost liked at the moment.
At the very least, she'd made her peace with it. It was enclosed, solitary, and almost secluded. And it was full of interesting things to read.
If only…
— Ami…
…If only people wouldn't keep traipsing in…
The Secretary tore her gaze from the shelves of potentially interesting reading material.
— …Fetch me the transport data between Omill and Kantine, please.
…With daft requests.
Rayleen's equally grim face appeared in the window.
Seeing the officer's weary face, Ami softened somewhat and silently, without comment, went to search for the requested documents.
She herself had only just organised this mass. Bloody swamp… Why couldn't she remember where the needed one was? Probably because the task was rather large.
But now her advantage was that she knew where the journals and cases were because she had put them there herself. So, soon after, she could present them.
— Swamp and gnats… — the woman sighed. — Need to get stuck in. And I… can only think about coffee.
— Not a bad start. — Ami encouraged.
— Suppose so…
— Leave would be a smashing follow— up, wouldn't it?
— Yes, probably…
The spooky spirit of Rayleen headed for the coffee pot, and Ami returned to the tablets.
"What to start studying? The latest odd cases. Precisely what to start with?"
Good question…
— Ami.
…Yesssss.
— Fetch me the incident summary for the last small cycle, please. And take these…
— Donny. Are you sure you want to tackle this now?
Amelia smirked, unable to restrain her naturally sarcastic nature. She took the tablets, however.
— Don't want to at all. — Donny admitted honestly. — But, sort of, have to. Milo won't let me just be.
— Well, if you put it like that… Look, poor Rayleen's running on coffee fumes.
— Gnats, she does look frightful! — Donny added sotto voce. — Needs leave.
— Told her exactly the same.
After dissecting Rayleen's situation, as befitted a true all-knowing Secretary, Ami returned to her other, increasingly professional duties.
"The incident summary"... Hmm. It was a bit tougher than transport data.
The servicewoman approached the cabinet and paused.
Finding something now was much easier. Even at Ami's leisurely pace, it was considerably quicker than before.
— How are you settling in, anyway? Made any friends? — Donny shifted the topic to her personality, being people-orientated in general.
Where was it… Ah, there.
— I'm… fine. — Ami answered. — People here are nice, although I am friends mainly with the clay tablets. And outside of work, my best friend here is the dictionary. I read it at night… to fall asleep.
— How fascinating.
— It is. I can't exactly foist such a gloomy, preoccupied character on people. Seems a bit rotten…
The Secretary placed the requested tablets before the officer, who was puzzled by this turn of the conversation.
— …But I plan to bring it to that gorgeous Hill near the city soon.
— Great choice! The Hill is a marvellous spot. — Donny nodded understandingly, finding something to latch onto. — Definitely climb it if you haven't yet! The view's truly awesome. Just mind you don't fall off while gawping.
He clearly grew bored during the long chat.
Donny's hyperactive nature didn't allow him to linger long on any single aspect of the endlessly diverse world.
Dialogue with him, as always, lacked depth and didn't detain him at the archive window for long. Probably for the best. Why burden him? Even if his lightness couldn't be easily destroyed, there was no need to test it with unnecessary thoughts or actions.
The Kantinian envied him a little but understood she wouldn't last half a light in that mode.
And now, after Donny had gone, she could return to selecting particularly interesting tablets for herself.
After shelving the ones just received from Donny, naturally.
— Lucy.
…Oh, for ghoul's sake…
— Yes… Calvin? — she blurted out a name clearly not belonging to the visitor.
— Moki. — the arrival corrected.
— Ami. — the Kantinian reintroduced herself.
— Ah, yes, of course, Ami… — Moki continued. — Sorry, I was miles away.
— It's fine. No need for you to unlearn our secretary's name for half a cycle. What can I do for you?
— Take this report off me from yesterday's case.
— Taking it. — Ami replied to the empty window.
Something seemed off with everyone this light; they lacked the urge to chat.
Fine. An extra reason to commence a one-way exchange of information with the tablets. Better this way, to be true. Less annoyance for both sides and more of… What did she have here?
"List of Arrivals with the Latest Caravan from Prime". Nah.
That stuff bored her back in Kantine. What about the fresh ones that came from Donny?
Hm. Inspection of the site where the unknown was found. And the results…
Nothing interesting in general, but… a scrap of cloth with those symbols was found in the victim's pockets. So, one of those odd cases. And they had these stunning symbols again.
But why was Donny on it? Why had he been shifted from contraband and tracking caravans to disappearances? Because there were no more issues there?
Ami doubted it.
She couldn't say she would be better at this type of investigation… but she would definitely be more useful than sitting there, in that clay-sorting swamp hole, never seeing the light…
…Hmm. Something was truly fascinating about these symbols.
It was a shame the witchgraphy images weren't attached. Or if they were, someone had taken touching care of them.
…Probably all with Milo again. Greedy git…
Well. This goes with the other tablets then. Could be shelved closer to the witness interview transcripts from Tallah and the report on the joint work with the Temple witches regarding their… issue from Kimi.
…Kimi! She'd brought something this morning too. And it was unread. Just quickly shelved so Ami could drink her coffee undisturbed. Anything… amusing?
"Kele's informants' insights from the Elves". Interesting.
It was… Kele. And elves. What could be more amusing?
Two things as beautiful and unattainable as the luminaries.
Conversations with elves formed a whole branch here. Definitely worthy of closer study and grouping on the shelf without disrupting the overall structure. But Ami doubted she would get to them or be able to efficiently process such a large number of documents in the short time allotted to her. And if she wasn't in such a nauseatingly weary state from trying to read everything at once, she'd have tackled the documents immediately.
Sooo…Elves. One more never-never on her wishlist.
And it could be very promising. If romantic relationships ultimately brought only disappointment due to mismatched expectations and reality, nothing like that could happen between her and the Elves. Because Ami had no expectations about the forest folk. No ideas whatsoever about what they were like, beyond the drivel in almanacks and daft Kantinian tales and jokes.
So, those writings were compensatory. She needed to reorganise them at least.
Well. The very report from Kele. Hmmhmhmhm… Nothing remarkable either. Except… the handwriting, maybe.
Kele's symbols looked somewhat unusual. Some letters were burnt… In… the Selva style? Was it?
The Secretary took a tablet authored by Kimi.
…Yessss. Something similar seemed to be there…
Interesting, how did the script differ across regions?
You only had to ask. The Archives held documents from practically all cities. At your service.
The templar placed her notes alongside the reports.
Omillian letters, compared to Kantinian ones, had peculiar little tails on the symbols. Kantinian symbols were quite angular by comparison. Like the Kantinians themselves.
It was simply easier to write that way, holding the cloth. Short wedges, rather than the flourishes others could burn as they pleased… Lucky gnats they were.
However, placing non-Selva Irji's notes beside them, one could see his handwriting was something midway between the geometric shapes of Ami's letters and Kele's flourishes.
And the Primean script rounded all symbols slightly and added dots where needed. Theirs were the strictest and smoothest of all… Neat.
Ami distinctly remembered where several documents from Zeth were placed. And a couple from Lim, which she'd found in the general pile and long examined with a sense of awe, were shelved nearby.
They were found quickly. No wonder. You always remember useful things better; it's just the way the brain works.
She happily retrieved them and looked at them again.
Here. Zethian symbols… Even more whimsical and ornate than Omillian ones.
Why did they bother to draw this? Though, if memory served, their words were short. So, presumably, they weren't fussed. Good for them.
Zeth was a great place in general. Ami had never been there, but she knew it had tall inhabited mountains and the highest percentage of Selvas among the urban population. A dream city. She really must pluck up the courage and head there if nothing works out here.
And the document from Lim. Fascinating material it was inscribed on. Rough and smooth simultaneously, light and fluid. The symbols resembled ones seen before… yes. Like Irji's. And like Rayleen's. But the similarity ended with the outward form.
Lim's records were barely legible to Ami. Reading them in an Omillian or Kantinian way resulted in such garbled nonsense that any intended joke couldn't compare.
The Archivist didn't fancy filling the area with loud laughter from the den.
Let's return to the mysterious notes. Couldn't help doing it anyway.
She placed them alongside the rest of the dazzling symbolic splendour.
These symbols were clearly burnt sequentially too, like Kantinian or Omillian script. But they almost lacked distinct strokes and shapes, composed of dots and swirls. Which made them unreadable. Utter nonsense.
Better get back to reading the documents before the next "Lucy, fetch!..." comes.
So. The reports said that the Elves hadn't noticed anything suspicious nearby. Probably because all human actions could likely be classified as suspicious. Or unsuspicious.
They simply didn't give a toss. Veeeeery "helpful".
All happy personalities were indifferent to others' squabbles, though. Like Donny was indifferent to her whinging. Like…
— Ami.
…Oh, here it comes.
No, it was Elsu who had come.
— Listening!
— Fetch me the latest list of those undergoing treatment at the Temples again, please.
So predictable.
— For which period?
So boring.
— The last small one.
— Got it.
Amelia sighed lightly and began searching distractedly along the shelves.
Holly ghouls, where had she put it?.. She hadn't put it anywhere… The list was still on her desk. She'd meant to look at it herself.
The Secretary returned to the desk, shifting the elven-focused tablets. And found it.
— Here you are… Swamp it.
— What's happened?
— I'm a lousy secretary, but it's not new. Forgot about the reports for Milo!
— But you're a good operative, perhaps.
— Thank you. I flatter myself that I am, but I'm not sure now. It's like a whole life has passed since I saw a glimpse of freedom.
Elsu responded with a sympathetic and reproachful look, took the tablets, and returned to her office. These emotional swings from grandiosity to worthlessness were exhausting indeed. And Ami went to her Chief immediately.
The Secretary approached Milo's office door and reproduced the now-familiar gesture. Ha. Almost like a real Omillian. Coffee, saturating her body, had influenced her mind.
Becoming a witch suddenly was the next shocking stop on her never-never list.
…This bog list was on her mind all light! All her life, though…
Receiving permission to enter, she did so immediately.
A pile of tablets towered on the Chief's desk. Incomparably smaller than Ami's recent heaps, but still impressive.
One could only hope the witchgraphic images of the recently found symbols were among them. If they weren't, she'd just ask. She really craved them.
— Milo. Got a moment?
— Half a moment. What do you need?
— The tablets.
— Are the ones you already have in the Archive not enough?
— A couple of important ones are missing. Let's exchange. I'll give you the ones you requested. And you give me the images for those symbols mentioned in Donny's report in return.
— What a deal. Back on that again?
— Well, yes. What else is there to amuse myself with?
— Finish the sorting, for example. Or study the caravan manifests and warehouse reports looking for inconsistencies, if you have a significant amount of free time. You'd take a huge load off me, Moki, and that same Donny.
— A bit dull for a leisure activity, don't you think? I fed enough on that back in Kantine. But maybe I'll glance at them sometime, since I've got some experience in that area.
— It'll be much obliged. Ami. I still don't get it. What's… so fascinating about these symbols? I mean, for you.
— Besides them… being mysterious and unknown?
— Probably just a cypher. Unknown, but nothing mysterious. Smuggling, shady deals… no mysticism.
— And… the amnesias?
— Just a witch— tech. Also unknown yet. And the VST is the best candidate ever to solve this.
— Yeah. I really know how ordinary people engaged in dodgy dealings get advanced witch-tech. Assuming it is people, of course.
— I personally no longer assert these things are directly linked, or linked at all. I'm now inclined to think we should consider customs fraud separately from the amnesias, strange forest sounds, and other "anomalies". They appeared practically simultaneously, making us think they were connected. Kyle, naturally, disagrees… The amnesias are directly linked only to the symbols, if you ask me. Now get back to work, please. Enough playing VST agent here; these people have been training for this for cycles.
— Well… Now that was really offensive.
— You are helping the Station a lot as a good Secretary. Starting with how quickly you cleared the backlog. — Milo added conciliatorily.
— Oh yes, a bloody marvellous start, I must say. — Ami snorted. — What's wrong with my initiatives?
— I don't see much sense in them. Even if we assume you can skip your duties at some point… Not to mention that they are not your direct responsibilities? If you were my direct report, I would have fired you already.
— I've been messing around with these symbols for a while now, and you've hardly noticed a drop in my productivity. Quite the contrary. As a manager of a large branch, you should know that being able to take a break during work lights, within reason, increases productivity.
— You don't have any respect for authorities, do you?
— I have. That's why I ask and don't just copy things quietly.
— How did your Kantine chiefs tolerate you?
— They didn't. That's why I'm here. Bothering you.
— Look. We've been battering our heads against this for nearly three great cycles. What do you plan to achieve?
— I reckon the symbols are the key. No need to be a VST agent to tell that. Yes, it's more like a personal palaeographic interest than a proper investigation. But… would you give me those witchgraphs?
Milo shook his head, returning his gaze to the document he was reading.
— Milo. I lost a part of my mental health here, and I'm having nightmares about this job already. Will you provide me with a little entertainment in a dark closet while I conscientiously perform my extremely important duties? Or shall I just work like Donny without any enthusiasm, offering no help with additional boring chaff?
Ami swept the big pile of tablets off the Chief's desk.
— Leave that one…
He deftly plucked a tablet from the stack in her hands without toppling it.
…Now that was skill! How did he… practice?
— …and find entertainment outside work time.
— I will. — Amelia conceded. — Where's the biggest library in town to admire the other symbols?
The Chief looked at her thoughtfully.
— Hmm… the Temple Witchium is the best spot, I think. It's Finnian's department.
— He will kill me instead of giving me access.
— Worse. He'll file a report on you to the Temple Chief. You'd get off lightly if he just boiled or chilled the blood in your veins. Finnian possesses neither a charming disposition nor reserves of patience and friendliness.
"Good thing we have a Kantinian-localised resistance to dislike and ill-will."
— You're no sweetheart either, on the other side. Give me the cases, and then I'll slink back to the clay-sorting swamp hole I came from, never to be seen again. How Lucy coped with this horror…
— Brilliantly… Even brought coffee instead of stupid ideas.
— She will forever remain my unattainable ideal in secretarial work. The kind one doesn't particularly want to attain.
Milo returned to his reading. And Ami backed slowly out of the office, carefully carrying the pile of tablets.
She turned and shuffled just as cautiously towards her cubbyhole. The pile danced a dangerous dance in her hands. A greater way to further piss off Milo was close… at hand.
Luckily, Irji, standing by the coffee table, jumped up to help move the entrance drape.
— Cheers, Irji! — smiled the Archivist.
— Ami. Up to the ears in work.
— Yeah. Even if the Management doesn't appreciate it.
…An incredibly enchanting aroma was spreading through the Station hall…
— Why not carry them in batches? Or ask for help? — the officer made an exasperated gesture.
— I'm a contemporary Secretary. — The Kantinian lied cheerfully. — To be true… I'm simply not used to it. It didn't work out well during my previous experience. Irji. My horizons are limited by these documents. Pray tell me. Do we have coffee in the pot? I desperately need a break.
— We have. And guess who's brewing this light? Rayleen! — Irji made a silly delighted gesture.
— Brilliant! — Ami clicked her tongue approvingly. — Just pop these down and I'll grab my mug. And I need to go outside. It's all really beginning to get suffocating.
She brought the cases to her workplace with Irji's help, grabbed her mug from the bag, and practically skipped towards the coffee table.
— Finally trying to integrate with the team, then? — Elsu rumbled, pouring herself coffee.
The quick and quiet huge officer was already there. The cauldron in her hand seemed more fitting than Ami's small mug. She could have drunk straight from it, actually. But she seemingly liked the ritual itself.
— Yep! — Ami chuckled, appreciating the metaphor. — Doubt how well I'll blend in, though. Sometimes I feel like… some dense liquid. Still end up separate at the bottom.
— We'll keep stirring you and won't leave you alone till you scarper. — Dave grinned.
— Thanks! I'm touched. Really. — Amelia smiled wearily.
— It doesn't matter who we are; while drinking coffee together, we're one team! — Kimi declared the motto jokingly.
— And being two-thirds made of it already – practically family. — Rayleen snorted.
— The remaining third is leafcakes. — Irji added. — And this practically erases all the differences.
— I'm sincerely chuffed to be part of this coffee-and-leafcake family! Will raise a mug to that later. Once I reach the cauldron.
— That's where the sisterhood ends! Speaking of leafcakes. — Tallah frowned. — Where are they?
— Coming! — Donny's voice rang out from the entrance.
He'd barely placed the hefty bag on the coffee table before several hands reached for it.
— Hang on! Let me just put it down… There. I think. You, ancient beasts. — Donny deposited the bag and took a leafcake for himself. — Delivery's done. The courier is proud of not eating it all by himself.
— You wouldn't cope with it. — Faella doubted, popping a sweet into her mouth.
— I could. It would just take up some of my working time. And you know these Lindin's leafcakes. Treacherous. You think – not another one, or I'll burst… The next moment you're chewing another.
The other officers nodded.
— How do you… decide who fetches the leafcakes this light? — Ami enquired curiously, taking a sip from her cup. — Duty roster?
— Nah, why… — Donny shrugged. — Whoever fancies leafcakes just goes.
— And… What if no one does?
Everyone exchanged glances.
— Well… — Donny spread his hands. — It never happened yet. More often, several fancy it at once.
— Well— well, coffee smell. — Milo materialised beside the coffee table. — And all my fair Station is here, of course.
— Rayleen's brewing this light. — The Selva raised a meaningful eyebrow.
— Ahhh. — Milo understood. — Message received.
— Amelia.
…Who here used her full name? Those who remembered or read her service record.
Rayleen was apparently one of them.
— Did you fill your mug? — the officer continued after a brief pause.
— Yes! Elsu did. But the mug is mine.
Ami readily displayed her cup brimming with invigorating green liquid warmed by an adorable giant.
— Then – to us! — Rayleen clinked her cup amiably against Ami's.
— To the coffee team! — Kimi raised her cup, and everyone followed suit.
— To the elements of earth and water, so whimsically combined in this splendid beverage and dessert! — Tallah joined in.
— To the motley group combined into a team! — Faella played along.
— Cor blimey! — Donny snorted approvingly, shaking his head.
— Yapee. — Davin concluded.
And everyone synchronously brought their cups closer and took the first, most delicious sip.
The coffee break ended, and Ami drifted back to her cubbyhole with her mug.
Time to shelve the stack of problems migrated to her from Milo's desk.
"Lim to Prime. List of Rarities sent", "Northern Warehouse Report". "Illegal Import from Zeth". Smashing. What more could one wish for?
Nevertheless, the rest of the light passed surprisingly quickly and without much fatigue; Amelia accepted her fate made of routine tasks.
With the same indifference with which she carried out her work, she left it.
And suddenly felt a renewed surge of energy. As if her brain didn't want to give up its investigative curiosity.
So. How about that long-tempting hill? Though the entrance lay partly through the Forest, and she couldn't be arsed to trek, perfectly aware she'd have to walk back too. But… her feet were already carrying her towards the hill.
Leaving the city and stepping onto the mountain path, breathing in the witchy forest air, she found herself, without noticing, humming a long-forgotten tune.
Humming it, she reached that spectacular plateau with the lake, barely noticing the journey.
The problems began to dissolve and were left near the ground. Perhaps they didn't bother to climb. Or her head, unwilling to lug extra weight uphill, shed superfluous thoughts.
Or perhaps they disliked her singing style.
In any case, only the tune and Ami remained on the hilltop.
Gazing spellbound at the evening city below, the Kantinian barely realised she was singing. And couldn't have recalled the song for sure, let alone all the words.
Idle singing, as well as anything idle, wasn't much approved of in Kantine. Unless it was traditional or festival songs.
It was believed that one had to be extremely careful dealing with music; improper usage would attract evil spirits and set one on a "slippery slope" in general.
Considering Ami had never strayed far from her favourite slippery slope, she had little to lose, and she hummed in the woods often. First they were traditional songs, then ones heard here and there, or that came to her greedy— for— melodies mind.
And this mind was both empty at the moment and filled with songs at the same time.
The sky had darkened considerably; only one setting luminary remained visible.
The surroundings and the lights of the evening city looked so stunning that Ami's song grew louder in joy and wonder, almost full— voiced now, causing her to tap her foot as well.
..Stop!.. What was that?!
Amelia fell silent and spun around sharply.
The distinct sensation that someone was watching her. And listening…
…But, no… No one was there. Thank the luminaries.
The last thing she needed was to cover herself in shame if her singing was heard. Even if it was only forest spirits who wouldn't tell anyone. They didn't deserve such torture, either.
Let them listen to musical Selvas with excellent hearing and vocal abilities, who could sing evenly and faultlessly, picking up from anywhere.
The song in her head quietened, leaving it quite empty.
Ami turned her gaze to the dark sky. The risen second satellite beautifully backlit the clouds. She sat a while longer in the quiet and then set off home wearily.