Interconnected: Spliced Souls

I stopped by Cassidy's place to confirm it, and yes, she wasn't there. There were a few materials and supplies left over, but it looked like she panicked and prepared to leave in a hurry. Those corpses weren't here. Still, I said a little prayer and hoped that the woman and her child were finding peace and love in the afterlife. I saw a pack of smokes on a table and decided to take it.  

Leaving, I started my journey to the noble district after returning to the Crimson Grotto. It was still early morning, but I didn't see many citizens. Numerous guards, though, acknowledged my presence and turned to their patrols. A few kept a glancing eye on my actions.    

That didn't last long because the rhythmic pounding of hooves sounded from behind. I stepped to the side to let the extravagantly lavish carriage pass me, but the pretty white horses slowed to a crawl. It was flanked by four guards belonging to Lando's Nail.    

The carriage itself also bore the same emblem. A soldier opened the door, and I saw Harold. He smiled like I was a lost friend.    

“I'm glad I didn't miss you, Servi. Care for a ride? There are a few things we need to talk about that skipped my mind,” he asked in a friendly tone. He was really a stylish dresser. That all-black suit was sharper than even the edge of a sword, and he filled it out quite well with the few hints of muscles pressed against the fabric.    

“Sure, why not? Suppose it isn't in my best interest to refuse, but I won't say no to a free escort,” I replied, hopping up and sitting across from him.    

After the door closed behind me, a snap of a whip echoed through the air, and then the den of gross over-indulgence in luxury, gold, and silver began to move.  

“So, what's up? If you're curious, I didn't break my promise. That's why you're here, right?”   

"Are you still feeling paranoid? While it may require time, I hope to persuade you that I have no sinister intentions. Harmony is the driving force behind a thriving world. Why provoke conflicts, disputes, and disorder when a cordial conversation can yield the best outcomes for all involved parties?"  

“Is that the type of thing you should say? Especially when you let me kill Muisk?”   

Harold nonchalantly shrugged and eased into a more relaxed posture. "Maybe you're right. It could be argued that the world, despite the innocent desires of children, falls short of being a fairy tale. No matter how noble or sincere one's intentions may be, certain matters simply cannot be resolved without resorting to violence and even death." 

"In my opinion, the world is rife with hypocrisy. It's an impractical notion to lead a life entirely devoted to a single principle without ever contradicting one's own beliefs through action." 

The head of the Flynn Estate pondered, placing his hand on his chin and tilting his head slightly. "That's another intriguing perspective. Please forgive me if this comes across as impolite, but I am now even more curious about your past identity. It may sound like a foolish inquiry, but have you ever contemplated whether your behavior holds any hints about your former self? I recall reading a tale of a band of mages who employed magic to erase a musician's memories, yet her mastery of playing an instrument remained unparalleled, as if her body retained the ingrained routines." 

“It makes sense. Muscle memory is called that for a reason. And I've asked myself the same thing multiple times. About why I feel… I don't know…cynical? Even if I don't acknowledge it, I think there's always something more at play.”  

I found myself taken aback by the level of my own verbosity. Harold appeared to be a sincere intellectual, and I relished our conversation on the nature of memory. We delved into the concept of muscle memory and even contemplated the existence of soul memory, if such a phenomenon could be real. Additionally, we explored the contrast between these forms of memory and the unconscious memories that lie buried within the depths of one's mind. 

The way the conversation turned so deep and intense astounded Albert, who hadn't heard of nearly a tenth of what we discussed. Itarr was also at a loss, and the two really listened closely. Especially since we were discussing the soul– Itarr's primary fortitude.   

Then again, it was oddly…worrisome? Confusing? It was just unnatural that Harold expertly changed the subject to where it was more of me speaking my thoughts while he listened with close intent. Even though I caught that, I still wanted to hear his thoughts.  

“Hey, where are we even going?” I said after realizing our destination wasn't known to me.   

“To my estate.”  

“Srassa and Momo?” Harold nodded and said it would be more meaningful for them to see me alive and well instead of him telling them. Then he asked if I had another destination in mind. When I told him I was considered dead, Harold laughed it off.   

“As of dawn, there's no need to be concerned. The appropriate files, records, reports, and documents have been amended, corrected, altered, and destroyed.”  

“I figured you'd be on top of that. You don't strike me as the man who'd let those details pass you by.”  

“Ah, so I'm punctual?”  

“Yes. That's the impression you give off. A perfectionist in the truest sense.”  

"Your perceptiveness is truly impressive. I often face criticism from my wife for my inability to let things go unless they meet a certain standard of perfection. However, it is precisely my keen eye for detail that has enabled me to achieve the level of accomplishment I have attained thus far in my life." 

From there, the topic changed to his family. More accurately, to the events of last night. After Jony ushered Srassa and Momo into the panic room, which was linked to a communication crystal Harold always carried on him, the talented butler took up his sword and rushed to join the guards standing out front.   

Unfortunately, his arm and hands were injured in the ensuing chaos. When Harold arrived with reinforcements granted to him by King Lando– that little camp I saw near the sewer entrance last night– the first thing he did was lead a detachment of soldiers to his estate.   

But that couldn't have been right.   

Llamare and Liealia said their allies inside the city were to only set off smoke bombs to divide the forces. There wasn't supposed to be any actual fighting… unless it called for it. And there wasn't any reason for it to progress that far... 

But there was…?  

Something didn't add up, but I didn't think they were lying.   

Harold continued his story and said he had sent a unit to escort Jony to the king’s personal healer to rest and recover via a teleportation gate. He'd be out of commission for a day or two. 

When Harold opened the vault to the panic room, he said Srassa hugged him for the better half of thirty minutes before letting go. He'd never seen his daughter that upset before in his life. After speaking with Momo and tucking Srassa into bed, he oversaw the efforts to ‘retake’ control of the city, whatever that meant, which was only interrupted by someone giving him a report.   

A report of a woman with black hair and red eyes who claimed to know his family, which was how we met.   

Albert sensed something was off as well. The information didn't add up. He said it was probably his personal feelings interfering, but Albert was a gentleman amongst gentlemen-- the perfect man. At the same time, he learned of Llamare and Liealia from Itarr and me. When he encountered them last night, he sensed a deep understanding of justice from their actions to rescue their kidnapped companions.   

Itarr asked if I wanted to send a message to Llamare. I had that emblem, but perhaps it wasn't the right time. Harold obviously had contacts all throughout the city. I knew we talked about my cynicism earlier, but I couldn't help but feel that his awareness of my missing memories before I told him was a threat.   

And that part of me believed he intended it to be a passive warning against doing anything to betray whatever flimsy trust we shared…  

No…  

Could this have been his plan all along? To entrap me like an insect in a spider's web? Did he…want me to make a move to prove I hadn't told him everything by sending a message? 

Could he see ten steps ahead of me?  

If so, the bastard was conniving. I'd underestimated him.   

Then again, I might have been assuming the worst... 

Shit… 

“A spell of silence could be comforting, too. We spoke at great lengths about topics that required more than the average amount of effort to properly convey, and I apologize.” He hinted I wouldn't want to be exhausted before the ‘big’ moment, and I agreed. If only to have some time to think about what we discussed. 

---

Momo had previously described the splendor of the Srassa's house, but witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different experience. The numerous gates and fences were impressive enough, but the mansion itself was on an entirely different level. If the front yard was that vast, I could only imagine the backyard. 

"Are you impressed?" Harold asked. 

"More than that. Your residence is magnificent. It's like a beautiful work of art." 

"Haha! Thank you for your gracious words." 

As the carriage came to a halt, we disembarked at the grand entrance, greeted by three maids and three butlers positioned near the gold-trimmed front door. In perfect unison, they all bowed and welcomed the master of the house. 

"Lord Flynn, Lady Srassa has not yet emerged from her room," said a Dogkin with an animatedly wagging tail. This white-haired girl seemed eager to please, though she attempted to maintain a stoic demeanor that contrasted with her tail's enthusiasm. 

"She has been through a lot. Allow her some additional rest. Where is Momo?" 

"She is in the courtyard, my lord, engaging in her morning exercises," replied a man with a shark's head. His neck bore gills, and a fin protruded from his back.  

"Marklay, accompany Servi to the courtyard. The rest of you, prepare breakfast for." 

"Yes, Lord Flynn!" they all responded before entering the mansion one after another. Harold and I followed suit, and boy, just when I thought I had witnessed the epitome of opulence, I was introduced to the extravagant lifestyle of the truly affluent. 

Even the entryway alone boasted a triple set of spiral staircases, intricately intertwined all the way up to the top floor! 

Each step of the staircase showcased a dazzling crystal embedded in its center, radiating a mesmerizing shimmer when touched by the sun's warm brilliance. 

"If you would kindly follow me, Ms. Servi," the man with the shark's head said, bowing slightly and turning on his heels. I trailed behind him as Harold informed me he would be waiting in the dining hall. 

During our walk, Marklay shared various tidbits about the estate, including its construction timeline, peculiarities, and other details he believed I should know. While I wasn't particularly interested, the extra knowledge did have its charm. 

My escort brought me to a stop in front of a sizable window, nearly spanning the entire wall. The velvet curtain adorning the top was rolled up, likely pulled by the nearby string for closure. However, what caught my attention were the crystalized doors carved within the glass. Even the doorknobs appeared to be exquisitely crafted with far too many precious gems. 

In the courtyard, Momo stood at the center, surrounded by a marble fountain, trees, vibrant flowers, a gazebo, and a luxurious veranda, all reflecting the stylish luxury that Harold embodied. 

My dear friend was clad in her vest and chainmail armor, gripping her grandfather's sword tightly. Closing her eyes, she swung and slashed as if engaged in combat with an invisible opponent. Her movements remained as sharp as ever, but her tail and ears... 

She was distracted, and even her luscious pink locks seemed to suffer a bad case of bed hair. Momo sheathed her sword and crouched down. She hugged her knees. That pretty tail seemed so sad. 

I didn't want to feel like a creep any longer, so I thanked Marklay and silently entered the courtyard. "It's breaking my heart to see you like this, captain," I said with a hand on her shoulder. 

"It's because you're dead... It's not fair," she murmured. 

"What's not fair?" 

"Your memories. You didn't have any. And now you'll never have a chance to get them back. It's not fair... And it hurts my heart..." 

"Uh... I think you've got the wrong—" 

"Idea? I know that...when I stand up...and turn around... You won't be there—" 

"Come on, captain. I bet you a million dupla that you'll see me." 

"No, I won't. But I need to face the truth. I need to stand up, wipe my eyes, and... and..." Momo rose to her feet and turned around, clearly not expecting to find my crimson eyes locked onto her. A smile cracked across my face. 

"Ser...vi? Is that really you? You're not a ghost, right? I don't know if my heart can handle it..." 

"Does a ghost feel warm? Does a ghost have flesh?" I gently placed her hand in mine and offered her my warmest smile. In an instant, you could see the gears turning in her mind, expelling self-pity and sorrow and replacing them with relief and unfiltered joy. 

The tears welling up in her eyes only made Momo appear all the more endearing. And as she leaped towards me with her arms outstretched, my heart skipped a thousand beats. 

---

"But you're okay?! You're not hurt or anything, right?! They didn't do anything bad, did they?! Just tell me you're fine!!! Even—" Momo's voice trembled with worry as she squeezed my hands tighter, her tears flowing even more profusely from those stunning eyes. 

I thought she was composed, but it appears she can be as emotional as everyone else.   

Itarr, it is understandable why Miss Momo is acting like this. I imagine Lady Srassa will react similarly, if not more extreme.   

"Yeah, I'm all good, untouched and unharmed. Remember what I told you? The soldiers from Lando's Nail came to the rescue and shut it all down. Lord Flynn picked me up on the way here because he couldn't wait for us to be reunited. I doubt he wanted his daughter to continue thinking I was dead." 

"Servi..." 

Momo and I shared a heartfelt moment, giving each other more hugs than we probably needed. Eventually, the tears dried up, and Momo blessed me with a heartwarming smile. 

Then, like a lightbulb flickering in her head, Momo jumped to her feet, snatched her bag and sword, and practically dragged me into the mansion. "We've got to tell Srassa! She's been heartbroken this whole time." 

Running around a powerful man's house, especially one like Lord Flynn, might not have been the most proper thing. But I had a gut feeling he wouldn't mind. And the maids and butlers we passed didn't seem to care. 

Back in the entryway, Momo and I rushed up to the top floor and found ourselves standing before the door to Srassa's room. We knocked, but no response. A few more knocks, still nothing. I even called out her name, but silence echoed back. 

The door stubbornly remained locked. Momo pressed her ear against it, hoping for some sign of life, but she said she didn't hear anything. Her tail was wagging, though. It was full of excitement and impatience. 

"Let's just go in," I suggested, absorbing the door. The door disappeared, leaving Momo wide-eyed and bewildered. She rubbed her eyes, questioning if this was all a dream. She even asked me to pinch her. 

"Ow! Okay, I guess it's real! That's a relief," Momo exclaimed, rubbing her cheek and sporting a grin. 

"Captain, you've got the softest skin ever," I playfully remarked. 

"You can thank Srassa for that. Maybe they can lend you some of their fancy soap. But enough of that, let's wake up sleeping beauty. Wait... What about the door? It's not broken, is it?"  

"Nope," I reassured her. Stepping into Srassa's room, the door appeared in place. How Itarr aligned the hinges, nails, and screws in the right spot was beyond me. That goddess always had a way of surprising me.   

Once you acquire a ring, Albert, you can do this too   

It's very intriguing. Do you remember the detailed logic behind it, Itarr?   

I do not. I don't harbor any memories of creating them. 

"Hey... Sleepyhead... It's time to wake up..." Momo settled on Srassa's fluffy-looking bed and gently rubbed her friend's head. Srassa lay curled on her side, her eyes red, raw, and filled with tears. Taking in the room, I noticed an abundance of stuffed animals. A miniature unicorn perched on her writing desk, and the illustration next to it depicted the same heroic and badass version of Srassa I saw when we met-- when she accidentally dropped that wallet-sized painting of her with her sword.   

The other side of the room held matching armor on two mannequins. The nearby equipment racks held a sword and shield. The sliding door tucked away in the corner probably led to the closet.   

Returning my focus to my friend, I positioned myself across from Momo. Srassa stirred in her sleep, fidgeting, but she remained oblivious to our attempts to wake her. Those grey pajamas looked cute on her. 

"Sleepyhead... Come on, wake up," Momo persisted, gently shaking Srassa's shoulder.  

Finally, Srassa's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Err... Mmmng... Ms... Ms. Momo...?"  

"Yep, it's me. Wake up, girl. I've come with Good News," Momo said, glancing at me.  

"By the way, my name's still Servi. At least, I think it is. Not sure if I'm ready to go by Good News just yet," I chuckled. Srassa seemed perplexed, her mind struggling to make sense of the situation. It took ten seconds for her to realize Momo wasn't alone.  

Srassa's emotional defenses crumbled, and she delicately brushed against my hand, holding onto my fingers. It was a reunion filled with overwhelming emotions. Even someone like me, who couldn't recall anything from her past-- someone who had grown accustomed to feeling detached after taking lives, felt tears welling up in her eyes.  

Because, whether I liked it or not, I had formed connections. I hadn't been here for more than a week or two, yet when I thought about the people I had come to know... It filled me with warmth and a fuzzy feeling inside. Some might argue that you couldn't form meaningful relationships in just a few days. They might claim you needed months of continuous exposure to let another person into your heart.  

But what did it say about me when I felt this way about the people in my life after just a week?  

Was it yet another clue to my mysterious past?  

Then again, what about Momo and Srassa? They shed real, genuine tears for a complete stranger. I could give Nimyra some leeway due to her past experiences. She had likely witnessed countless girls perish before she could carve out a stable life. Her concern was understandable.  

I dunno… Maybe that's something I can ask Albert. He's lived a long time. I could definitely learn a lot from him.   

Before I knew it, the three of us shared a group hug and cry, and we let our emotions vent until our hearts had left this tumultuous event in the past.   

---

"Father saved you?!" Srassa exclaimed in disbelief.  

"Not me, dear. My soldiers. They deserve the credit," Harold replied, his posture impeccable as he sat at the dining table.  

The four of us—Srassa, myself, Momo, and Harold—were seated at the table, flanked by four patient maids with their hands elegantly placed on their waists.  

After our heart-to-heart conversation ended, Srassa's stomach growled like a ferocious tiger. I mentioned that her father had instructed the servants to prepare breakfast, and after waiting outside her room for her to change into a cute blouse and skirt, we made our way to the dining hall.  

We were greeted by a mouthwatering spread of expertly prepared meat, vegetables, freshly baked bread, and delectable jam. The maids gracefully served our plates and brought us coffee and water. Harold mentioned that if I desired, I could request anything, including alcohol. 

I don't think I can get drunk. Maybe I'll test it out later with the wine and whisky barrels I stashed from Viridian’s mansion.  

The conversation quickly shifted to me, and I repeated the same story I had told Momo, sticking to the approved version given by the man who left me with mixed feelings.  

"I was a mess," Srassa confessed. "When you disappeared, I didn't know what to do or how to act. I looked to Ms. Momo and Jony for guidance. I wanted to be strong like them, but..."  

"You are already strong, my dear. Have faith in your own abilities," her father reassured her. "Jony is doing well. He's receiving care and is scheduled to return in two days."  

"Father, may I request that Jony take a vacation?" Srassa asked.  

"You know he's not the type to take time off," her father replied.  

"Is he a workaholic?" I chimed in, joining the conversation while finishing off the last piece of bread smeared with the remaining traces of cherry jam. My bowl of carrots and corn was empty, and I had devoured the four sausage links minutes ago. Everything on the table had been packed with rich flavors, and the sausages had a delightful smoky hint. The taste was complex, yet not overly indulgent in any particular spice.  

"You could say that. I'll ask, but we already know Jony's answer," her father replied.  

Glancing at Momo, I noticed her poking at her baked fish with her fork. One hand rested on her stomach, which had already consumed four fillets. In addition, she had finished a bowl of grilled shrimp, a side of mashed potatoes, and a portion of steak...  

Goodness, this woman could eat like a pig! But she was so thin! And so adorable and slender! But then again, she worked out a lot. Though I hadn't experienced it firsthand, I knew she pushed herself hard. After intensive workouts, you needed to properly support your body with all the necessary nutrients to remain healthy. 

I'm pretty sure I can eat until the end of time and not get fat. If the concept of drinking and eating contests exists here– and they should, I mean. It's not like I came from a different world… I should be able to win every time… 

Harold swiftly redirected the conversation to our plans for the day. We didn't have anything planned, but I asked about the guild because we always met there.  

"Is the guild off-limits today? I imagine it probably is," I inquired.  

"Not necessarily. It's still open, and there's no reason you can't take on a quest or two," Harold responded. Momo, taking a sip of her coffee, suggested that a break wouldn't hurt, especially given what they believed I had endured.  

Deep down, it saddened me to continue deceiving them. While I had made it abundantly clear that I hadn't suffered physical abuse, only verbal taunting, I was worried they still imagined the worst possible scenario. It would take time to truly convince Srassa and Momo, and perhaps when our bond of trust grew, I would reveal the truth to Harold. For now, however, that trust remained somewhat tenuous.  

“Might still wanna pop in and talk to Claire. She was worried about you,” Momo added. “If she's working, that is. I dunno her schedule.”   

"Then let's make that our plan for today," I agreed.  

After breakfast, we left the magnificent mansion. But we weren't alone. Two bodyguards accompanied us, maintaining a considerable distance of about fifteen feet.  

However, their presence didn't alter the atmosphere. We continued our cheerful conversations, and I took the opportunity to inform them that the issue between Lucy and me had been resolved. I recounted how she had caused a scene when Srassa and Momo visited Nimyra.  

They were relieved and pleased to hear that the situation had been resolved.  

Before long, we bid farewell to the royal and affluent noble district, venturing into the lively casual district. Here, people were bustling about, attempting to resume their daily lives. I overheard a few nearby wives and mothers gossiping about last night's events. 

Some speculated it was a mere hoax, akin to a training exercise. Others insisted they had glimpsed a demon amidst the swirling smoke. And then there were the conspiracy theorists among them, concocting elaborate theories of an underground bureaucracy plot to obliterate Lando's rural culture. 

It was all wild and unfounded conjecture, the product of individuals who relished the sound of their own voices more than anything else.