Chapter 197 - Daydreams Of Better Times (1/2)

One of the things Isca hated most was snow. It was why she had gone out of her way to leave the North in pursuit of a warmer, more idyllic Southern life.

For years, she had worked, studied, and struggled for the singular goal of escaping the closed, tomb-like cities of her youth. Even though there was still plenty to do within the North, the one thing Isca wanted beyond her reach.

She wanted to see a clear sky. A simple request that proved impossible, for the eternal winter that had once claimed the North would not permit it.

But things were different now.

Autumn had arrived in the North and with it, the splendor of crimson blessed the land.

It was quite the sight for Isca, who had only ever seen frigid hues of white and l.u.s.trous silver in the North. Life had started to recover with the return of the seasons and the miraculous downpour of ambrosia that occurred during the Eventide.

”How long has it been since you've been away?” asked Reed after he noticed her captivated expression at the scenery around them.

”Four years, give or take a couple of months,” replied Isca as she relished the crunching sound of the fallen leaves underneath her feet. It was a childish delight that drew a soft chuckle from Reed to her annoyance, the inconsiderate boor.

Apparently, Reed had become quite an avid fan of hiking since the Eventide, or rather, he enjoyed retreating into the wilderness to observe his work. He felt it was his responsibility to look after it — the earth — given he was one who had given it life.

The small saplings sprouted a few years ago had already grown into virile, colorful columns that stretched into the clear sky above, a far cry from their previous condition only a couple of years ago...

”It's like an entirely different world just sprung up seemingly overnight when I wasn't looking. To think all this growth occurred in the span of little more than two years,” murmured Isca in soft disbelief.

For Isca, those twin years had passed in a flash the wake of the Eventide and the immense change it had brought, but to Reed, they had the longest years of his life, by far.

For Reed, those twin years had been most painful. They were filled with many unexpected trials and tribulations that had put him through his paces and then some.

But he did not look back on those years with aversion, for in his mind, they had finally allowed him to test himself. To face a great challenge and prove to himself what he had known all along from the beginning.

”It's not that surprising,” said Reed as he played with a small leaf. ”These little saplings just needed an opportunity to grow, that's all. And I gave them that chance. To turn a new leaf, so to speak...”

Why should I have been the only one to be given a chance to grow, after all? Fair enough that the land should get an opportunity to heal and grow if the people living off of it got one.

Isca found his boast a bit too grandiose, but couldn't find anything to say about it when she noticed the peculiar tone in his voice.

It was clear to her that she had just stumbled on something potentially combustive if improperly handled. The last time Isca blundered, Reed had become nigh-feral in momentary retaliation— a terrifying event she preferred to never experience again.

Even so, Isca did not believe that he would ever harm her. Though Isca did not have the most astute eye of discernment, she was of the belief that Reed would never do such a lowly thing.

He was of sub-common lineage, born without anything to his name, and yet, it had not diminished him in the slightest. Indeed, though she had only known him for little more than a month, it had been enough to sketch a rough portrait of his character, his inner nature.

His demeanor would not allow for any form of impropriety, minor playful jests aside. There was a sharp correctness to his behavior that one would think him unkind, but she thought more a product of his... troubled childhood.

The fault did not lie on him for being like that, and for what it was worth, she liked his solemn approach to life, as it befitted his tremendously important position in Mulia.

His tongue was usually quite concise, a trait some would consider belonging to an unsociable man, but she knew better. It was the quality of a disciplined man, one who did not want for meaningless drivel, to pollute the air around himself with hot air.

To her, Reed was an exceedingly complex and noble soul that had been beset with responsibilities that ordinary people could not even begin to fathom...

And then Reed curiously said, ”Who or what are you thinking about, might I ask? ...Someone special, perhaps?”

The question immediately dragged Isca out of the dangerous spiral she'd almost lost herself in and abruptly said, ”I-I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about!”

For a moment, the gears landed in the correct position and he loathed his preternatural mind for what it had figured out before he even conciously realized it himself.

The rise in her blood pressure, the dilation of her pupils upon looking at him, her increased heart rate, even the vigorous neuronal activity in her brain.

Reed could see all of it. He quite literally watched it happen on a microscopic level and there was nothing he could do to avoid putting the puzzle pieces together at Mach speed.

There was such a thing as being cursed with knowledge.

He would have preferred not to know the truth, but his mind would not permit the blessing of ignorance. In fact, he was sure that this was not... the first time he had figured it out. Reed was positive he had already discerned the truth dozens of times, but it did not matter to him.

Melt.

False.

Return.

Forget.

Once formatted into hard data — a recognizable neuronal configuration in his brain — he promptly registered the specific pattern as ”unacceptable”, thereby drawing a blank if it was ever accidently triggered.

Reed had not erased the memory but merely put a lock on it. And until he unlocked it himself, he would remain oblivious of its existence.