It seemed this light couldn't possibly hold anything more peculiar than what had become its usual fare. The mind adapts, after all. You adjust to stay sane.
So, even the strangest, most inexplicable and frightening things become mundane. The intensity hardly matters—only the contrast does.
This light's first visitor, and thus honorary coffee companion, was a sleepy, scowling Selva named Tallah.
— Ami. Fetch the tablets… Or don't, — she grumbled. — I forgot. I'm unexpectedly on patrol this light. Aargh.
— So *unexpected* that you won't warm my coffee first? — Ami smiled teasingly.
Tallah quickly caught the excuse to linger a bit longer in the dry warmth, just chatting idly. And the Secretary was happy to help and do the same.
— Alright, — the servicewoman replied, snatching the cup from the Archive windowsill willingly.
— Milo needs no special reason to torture his employees. But now I feel he actually has one. Things have become more intense lately, judging by the number of orders.
— True. And Kele tumbled into a pit yesterday; now Milo insists we patrol twice as often.
Tallah winced and snorted irritably.
— That's unfortu… — Ami began. — What?!
The news struck her. She took several unthinking steps toward the window ledge, elbows propped on it, staring wide-eyed at the annoyed Tallah.
— Kele… fell into a pit?.. — the Secretary asked woodenly, struggling to mask her alarm. — Blimey... Milo finally got his desired event… Hope… he's pleased.
Amelia hissed through her teeth in annoyance, holding back curses.
— I reckon... — Tallah snorted crossly. — Look. Faella's coming down. Here's your coffee. I'm off. Wish me luck avoiding his fate.
— With all my heart! Honestly. And where was the pit?
— Not sure. South of the Mountain, I think… Sandra and company are marking it; they are already there for details. She's promised extra personnel for patrols, by the way. But we're not bothered. Because… Faella and I are off to find our own pit this light! Right, sister?
— Right! — chirped her near-identical Selva colleague. — And ours will be grander than any pit ever found on this Mainland! I swear.
— Yeah. Let's go, girl.
With a shared, stylish "Selva" gesture, they strode out.
Amelia watched them go with envy and nervously took a sip of her still-warm coffee.
…How? How did it happen? How could he?.. She needed details. For sure.
Because Selvas are seasoned foresters. They grow in these woods—it's practically their home. Nothing bad can happen to Selva in a Forest.
Everyone finds trouble occasionally, but Selvas... rarely. They're one with the Forest. And Kele's sight and instincts are notoriously sharp. He wouldn't trip or get lost on the blackest night.
…It's all a bit odd...
Two options. He found the long-searched anomaly. Or he's overdue for leave… Maybe both.
"Don't worry. The report will come soon, undoubtedly."
"And Tallah didn't seem upset. Annoyed, not upset. Nothing serious, then."
For Tallah.
"Why so bothered?"
A good question. Who gave these people the right to wander through the Forest so freely? And to trouble us with their injuries. Huh?
"Milo did."
So, he's to blame. He will be held accountable. I'm heading to his office. And if the door cloth wouldn't be torn apart, it'll be a great achievement.
Once there, she almost hissed again, holding back the overwhelming emotions.
— Milo, Tallah and Faella left for the Forest.
— Logged it?
He sounded pretty irritated too. No wonder.
— Yes! Er. Not yet. Are all patrols doubled up now?
— Yes. Why?
— Just asked. May I?..
— No. Pop to Kele's, fetch his tablets.
…For the love of gnats! Can he ever be human?..
"Nope."
"More reading. Neat."
…Right.
Cold rage settled where thin hope had dwelt before.
— At once. Mighty woodsman takes a tumble. Scandalous.
"Stop it. He's not in the mood."
"He will kill us. Telling you."
Try me. I'll kill him first. Enough of it.
"Don't be stupid. Leave."
"No information here. Let's get the clays."
Then we go to the Forest. By ourselves.
"What a stupid idea."
Yes.
"Totally ridiculous."
Definitely. But still better than being torn apart because he ignores me. Or trying to tear his hat. Soon.
She glanced angrily at the Chief. Hiding from adversity behind his hat brim, Milo didn't notice the storm.
So, hurricane Ami stormed out and trudged to the many Selvas' shared office.
Lonely Davin was there. His warm, broad smile suddenly embraced all the space around. It surrounded the perplexed Secretary like a blessing and momentarily melted her icy resentment. She managed a strained smile back and thoroughly inspected Kele's desk, grabbing all the documents.
It will be boring without Kele. But it's less boring while reading his reports.
"Milo ordered these."
Milo is busy enough to miss them. We can read them and keep them safe. While waiting for Elsu… who went to the Forest with Sandra's team. Lucky Elsu.
Amelia smiled sadly at Dave again and returned to the Archive, feeling the darkness and hopelessness were denser and deeper than usual.
The gloom and dust seemed to concentrate. It was almost suffocating.
…It had come *this* far. Too bad.
"You should stop."
I know… I can't. It's too late. It's already got me.
"It's… not wise."
Can't help it.
Unable to cope with the dust storm of mixed emotions, the Kantinian swallowed hard, wondering if she should flee before the darkness crushed her skull.
"You should leave."
Leave what? The Archives? The Station? Temples? Or Omill itself? I can't escape from myself.
"You will return to Kantine soon. It will end by itself."
Yes, but… All these thoughts are toxically suffocating.
Starting with the return to Homelands. And finishing with not seeing Kele, no matter how long it lasts.
"That's what happens to plant-grower girls who think themselves fit for a fancy witch clay city. Reality smears them."
…Yes. And whatever we did. It's all pointless. And always will be…
"Ami. This adrenaline needs burning out. Somehow. Or it will blow us up from inside."
…How?! By… running? Away from this place?
"Not the worst option."
— Ami.
It sounded distant, muffled. Like through water... Or the thick fog of Ami's own sorrow. She flinched, turning her gaze to the window's light.
— Fetch the inventories and audit results... I hate Moki's paperwork! Tedious slog… But it is what it is.
"It is what it is, true."
Another irritable Station officer. Too many for one light? They'd blow the place apart if this continues.
— At once, Irji.
The serviceman squinted, seeing a faded spirit fetching the documents.
— Gnats! Are you… still starving? So pale!
— No. No, I'm not. Just… argh. As usual. Don't ask.
— Things going wrong… I see.
— Since I was born. And that was wrong too…
— Coffee break's coming. Maybe you'll change your mind.
— …Well, if you put it like that. You know how to cheer people up.
— I know that food always does the trick.
Irji's footsteps faded toward the stairs. And Ami's thoughts returned to her escape.
"So. How… far?"
Yes, exactly. How far can we go? Escape… from thoughts? From the room? From the Station? From the city? From life itself? How far? I feel claustrophobic inside all of those.
"Let's not overdo it. But a short stroll wouldn't hurt."
To the coffee pot, then. Or… towards… the Sanatorium! Yaay!
Ami's entire being jumped with fear and joy. Alarmed voices chattered in unison.
"What?!"
"No— no— no. Very bad idea."
"Totally ridiculous."
"Don't even think it."
"We shouldn't show that much… interest."
"Sounds pretty scary too."
"Forget about it."
"Better read his reports."
"Yes. What about learning the details from the source? Even before Milo does? Useful for our investigation."
"Which we paused due to foul weather."
Very funny. Why read reports when I could ask Kele?
"Don't be stupid."
But I am.
"Not *that* stupid. Someone questioned him already, for sure."
"Elsu and Sandra learnt everything."
And they won't share with us.
"Sure they won't. Who are we to share proprietary information about an investigation we are not conducting?"
I'm fed up with that.
"Go home, then."
Yes. But I'm going to Kele first.
"Visiting a near-stranger colleague. With questions outside your competence or none of your business. Not awkward at all."
Story of my life. Socialising is always awkward. I'm used to it.
"Go embarrass yourself, then."
Do I have your blessing?
"No. And you don't even know the Sanatorium's visiting protocol."
Well. I come. I see a person. That's all. What protocol? I've been a templar all this time, not for nothing. Let it be useful once. Besides, I need to get lunch there anyway.
Amelia leaped up and headed resolutely to Milo's office before she could reconsider. She almost knocked down the boss leaving the room.
— Milo, I'm away. Seal the Archive, — she reported in a peremptory tone.
— Right. Lunch?
— Yes.
"Is he trying to feign interest?"
"No. He's trying hard not to be rude this time."
"What a nice guy."
Never mind, people. To the Sanatorium we go!
The growing irritation didn't allow her to think much about consequences, so she quickly left the Station on a wave of feelings from the upcoming meeting.
Stepping outside into the warm light was truly soul-saving.
Amelia took a deep breath of Omill's fragrant air.
The smells of Freedom. That's why we are here. No one can take it from us. Only with our last breath.
Wind blew woodland scents… from the more attractive Forest. Not this time, Forest. We've got stuff to do… But I promise to visit soon.
Swiftly switching attention to bakery aromas and Temple incense, the Kantinian took another deep breath and resolutely headed for the Sanatorium.
Having flown in like a hurricane, she forgot all sanitary and social norms, risking another uncomfortable situation and incurring the wrath of the staff.
But… the target was in sight.
…Kele!..
He was there, propped on a cot in a far corner. He seemed fine. A slender splint on his leg, which he swung idly mid-conversation with a…
"Don't. Don't be jealous. You have no right, first. And second – it's a healer-Selva he's talking with."
Right.
Amelia admired the picture while waiting for the nurse to leave, freeing access to her colleague. To her relief, Kele maintained his regular cunning squint despite appearing fatigued. It warmed Ami's heart.
She couldn't help a half-silly broad smile she hurried to hide.
So... everything looked bright again. Far better than her panicked imagination had painted.
The Secretary caught the scent of healing herbs. Clever. Omillian healers blended witchcraft and herb-lore, making treatments absurdly effective. Cheating, really.
If only Kantinian healers had that technology. It would have spared her much suffering.
…Heart, quiet down…
…I need to hear my own words. Speak evenly. Casually… Ahem…
The healer left. But her legs were soft, and her tongue felt glued. Thoughts refused to cooperate. Her pulse raced. Even Amelia's gift for speech—and her usual unconventional approach—failed her. Utterly.
"Why did we even do this? We'll be hospitalised ourselves this way soon."
Bog off.
"Should we… approach? Or keep standing here in this ridiculous manner?"
Bog off!
"Anyway. We've been noticed. We have to go closer now."
Yes. We… have to.
As she approached, the Selva smiled and withdrew.
— How... are you?
The typical question was delivered with great difficulty.
"Splendid opener indeed."
Told you.
— Ah, Ami. — Kele smiled warmly. — I'm fine!
— Does it… hurt?
He shook his head.
— Not so bad. Could've been worse, you know.
— I'm so glad… to hear it.
An awkward pause ensued, during which the Kantinian's overheated mind raced to find a suitable topic. And an answer to why she was here.
— So. They let you out finally?
The silence was broken by the sweetly smiling templar, apparently unaware of the internal catastrophe.
— Nnn… no. I ran away.
— Who's glowering through the Archive window?
— Milo will... He's in a real ghoul mood this light. Worse than ever.
— He has a fair reason.
— True… So do others. Because of you, by the way. Irji lumbered with Moki's work. Faella covered your patrol.
— Oh, poor gal covers me! So sweet. Wish I could feel the guilt... But I don't. I've had enough.
Weary Kele's face showed a frustrated expression.
— So, this is just an excuse for an unscheduled break. Just as I thought. No wonder. This investigation is a slog. Sorry. I didn't mean to…
— I think you did. — Mocking, Selva squinted slyly. — Do you mean also… Milo isn't coping? Huh? Suggestions?
— None. Nobody listens anyway…
Ami huffed, genuinely annoyed.
— I do.
…It sounds… inspiring. And scary.
And her tongue stuck to her palate again.
— I… appreciate it. But… I lost my train of thought. So… I just ask. So... You just... fell. Straight… in a pit?
Selvian officer raised an eyebrow warily.
— Aye. What are you… getting at?
— Just… asking... The story is really weird.
Amelia let out a tired sigh, accompanied by a gesture of despair.
— You don't say... Aye. I fell. Knocked myself out. Came round, realised my leg was bunged. Patched it up. Started yelling. That's all.
— Do you think… it was a trap? Or?
— Not sure. Milo thinks so. I'd better take his side. Better than admitting my own incompetence.
The hidden laughter in his self-deprecating phrase made Ami smile.
— It was… A very well-hidden pit. I suppose.
— Yeah. Branches and dirt. Neat edges. Could be a natural erosion pit, though… I didn't sense anything suspicious. Except… the smell, perhaps. But it could be… well. Anything.
— Nothing much.
— Right.
— Where roughly was it?
— Northern woods... South of the Mountain. Why? Planning to go there? You won't fall in it; it's visible now. Find your own pit.
Ami exploded with indignation, reinforced by active aggressive gesticulation.
— If only I could! Milo's so stubborn! I mean, I could if the whole Department were in a pit. And no one was left to operate. Or to hold me back… Yeah.
— *That* bored, huh? Ready to ditch all the Templars down a pit? And who'll warm your coffee?
He smiled, eyes alone conveying sly warmth. How… did they do that?
— Not all of them... Milo's proper tumble would satisfy me.
— They'd just replace him.
— That's the problem. There's no way out for me, as you see.
— Milo… is not the worst Chief on the Mainland, you know.
Amelia sighed heavily.
— I know, I know... Compared to my Kantinian boss, especially, Milo's a rare gem… Which doesn't mean I don't want to see him shining in a pit. I… hate him. I hate you all, to be true. Don't look at me like that. Think for yourself. What do you do here? Living freely. In a gorgeous city. Strolling its streets and woods. Having great kotties. Taking it for granted. Shamelessly. Just frowning and drinking coffee… argh.
— Ah. Envy. Old as the Mainland. We warm your coffee, being nice. And you hate us in return.
— Can't help it.
A gloomy Amelia received a sceptical look from her colleague.
— Why… did you remind me of coffee, though? Now I want some.
— I could bring you some! Theoretically. If I don't drink it on the way.
— Do it. Bring me one… with Ilira flakes, please. I need to celebrate the start of a minor cycle's rest. Finally.
— Soooo long! I mean, yeah. The damage is serious.
— Not so serious, but I don't mind… I really need a break.
— You deserve it. I mean, the rest. Pfffah! Well… I'm off.
— Good luck… Wait! Take my water bag. Yes. Now go.
Ami hastily left the place with mixed feelings.
Deeply happy. And deeply unhappy. The awkwardness of it all. It would pursue her. ..Why did she come? Why start this awkward interaction?..
Well. What's done is done. Enough.
Hope the coffee will fix things. We require the best coffee on the Mainland. Luckily, it's in every establishment here.
On the way to the dazzling blue landmark mushroom, she realised she had no idea which café had Ilira-flake coffee. Or what it is.
It didn't matter. She'd find those flakes no matter what.
The lunchtime didn't make it easier, but the fourth café had it. Though it claimed as her work-lunch ration, leaving her nearly starving, she wasn't upset.
She took two. It was soul food. A frustrated templar needed something to lift her spirit. Something tasty. Something Kele favoured. Something celebratory.
She took her first sip before leaving the colourful place she would love to stay in… if not for Kele waiting for… his coffee. Of course.
..And it was… majestic!..
Go away, bitter thoughts! Make way for this sweet, unthinkable, incredible, creamy, smooth avalanche! Bury us with your tastiness… Wash away our sorrows for a while.
They will return doubled due to coffee hangover… But later. Much later…
— Ooh! You brought it! Cheers! Makes my convalescing merrier.
Kele sniffed with joy and nodded approvingly.
— And quicker, I hope.
— I doubt it… - the truth officer cautiously turned down the frantic rush.
— Oh. Sorry. I take it back. I forgot you're celebrating some rest... For the healing of our tired souls! Cheers!
They raised their bags. Kele's was heavier, to Ami's envy. But not for long. He took a big, greedy sip.
— Great… Yes... Think of it. Tastier food here. Visitors bring treats. That Mountain view alone! Gorgeous…
He joyfully took another sip.
— Don't make me doubly envious… You know how this ends.
Ami narrowed her eyes, feigning a threat. Selva grinned.
— And? What would you do to me? There won't be a second pit now. At least, not while I'm lying here.
— Nothing bad will happen to you. But I can't restrain my rage forever. Mark my words—something extraordinary will happen at the Station soon. You wouldn't want to miss it, having just second-hand reports about it?
— I don't want to be there when it happens, either. You're a rage-bag, you know. It frightens me sometimes.
He squinted slyly, looking inquiringly from behind the coffee bag he was sipping.
— It's an instinct of self-preservation. I can't just sit in a dark place, doing nothing wrong, while Milo keep burying me in my clay pit... As an HR professional, you need to be discerning when hiring people, and if you see rage in front of you, you need to realise that you can't keep it bagged up for long. It will eventually burst forth, tearing everything apart. Even if you're super diplomatic and all politeness, you're still smiling and burying. That's what you do.
Amelia compulsively lifted her bag, finishing her drink in one gulp. And immediately regretted that the last sip of this miracle had been taken in haste. And indignation.
— That's very Milo. - the subordinate remarked conciliatorily. - All civilised, proper and friendly.
The Archivist glanced at him briefly and let out a tired, irritated breath.
— Speaking of Milo... I think I should go now. Miss him much.
— Ta. Good luck! Mind the pits.
— Oh, don't gnat me off! Where would I find pits? In my cubby? Or the floor swallows me? My chair-worn drapes are in bigger danger.
— Wow-wow. Don't hit me. I'm damaged already.
— Alright… I'll wait for you to recover. Ta!
— Ta-ta.
Kele saluted charmingly. Could he be… less charming? It's unfair.
…Especially now, safely out of reach on sick leave… And... utterly unreachable, considering Ami's prospects.
For who was she? And where is she from? Kantine held no wonders like Omill's. And she's already in a serious relationship with her anger and melancholy. They knew each other well and were closer than her mother or sisters…
She exhaled grimly, tossing her ginger head irritably, and marched off, racing back to the Station.
And… the visit. Yes, it wasn't perfect. But the view and the coffee were good. And neither anxiety nor claustrophobia seemed so crucial now.
Somehow, everything now felt... manageable. Worth coming for. Worth enduring these mad waves of joy and woe.
Ami smiled fondly. And a cold hand clamped over the flicker of joy, curdling it into icy stupor. What a bog-witchery.
"Whatever you imagine now… Look at him. He's beautiful. Such men aren't easily 'caught'. Unlike you. And rarely stay alone. If ever."
It's true... Selvas are cute. Talk with elves. Go on interesting assignments. Make her worry… While no one would notice if she vanished.
Milo would grumble about finding a new Secretary. Her family would sulk over their wasted investment. Though it was clear from the start that relying on her was folly. Everyone reminded her constantly.
Amelia trudged gloomily into the Station, peered into Milo's office for him to unseal her doom room, and slumped into her cubbyhole, staring at the tiny window.
Employee of the cycle. Hello darkness, my old friend. Here we are again.
"It's better this way. No one should see us like this."
"Yes. Your inadequacy now cloaked in shadow."
Go rot.
"Snap out. Work resumes. They won't let you wallow."
Don't need your pep talks.
"There will be plenty of disappointments. Don't dwell on this one."
Thanks.
"Skip personal dramas; the work won't do itself."
The only thing I'm marginally fit for… Right. Staying in our cubby, ignoring my needs, doing nothing significant, like a good employee, while real officers work.
…Why then? Why go on? This nonsense... Nothing would change… Ever…
— Ami.
…Oh, hello, distracting voice.
She signed out the visitor's name heavily.
— Elsu... Reporting already?
— Aye.
— Quick.
— I've barely three lines. Nothing to report.
— I see. Any thoughts?
— Felt something odd near it... Don't know. I'm not sure.
— But?
— Why disguise a pit so expertly and not fill it or leave it? Makes no sense...
— Ran out of time? Couldn't be bothered?
— Don't know really... Found nothing nearby. Questioned everyone… Waste of time. Maybe Finnian's witches should've looked, but traces are likely gone... Physical ones washed away. Witchery fades fast. So…
Elsu shook her head irritably and trudged off. The contest for Most Disgruntled Officer continued.
— I see… Give it to me and forget it.
— Thanks. I will.
Ami swiftly held the report to the window.
She'd read it, then take it to Milo. Too much tasty information reached his bright office directly anyway.
The Archivist quickly scanned the tablet.
It was literally nothing. Kele's cases were more attractive.
Soooo many lights without Kele ahead… But what's the difference? He rarely graced her window anyway. She'd survive three fewer visits per minor cycle.
…Time to deliver it to the Chief.
— Milo. The short note from Elsu is here. She looked… totally baffled. So exhausted. Because of…
Milo grunted disapprovingly.
— Ami. Don't start again.
— …I bewitched her from my melancholy cubby.
— I believe it. Maybe all these amnesias are your doing?
— Possible. Know so little about myself.
— Hand it over.
Milo snatched the tablet.
Ami planned to shuffle back to her cubby… But it was a small plague party in this epidemic of gloom. Voices hummed in the Hall as officers gathered.
Time for Irji's wise advice. Coffee and sweets were cleverer than anything.
Officers, as glum as Ami, lugged cups toward the coffee pot. The gathering felt subdued yet warm and friendly, bringing a measure of calm. A silent feeling of mutual support. It carried her through the light, which finally, mercifully, ended.
Amelia left the Station.
Though unstable, the emotional gale seemed to ease. No longer swinging from despair to euphoric nausea—she felt drained. Feelings dulled. A numb indifference wrapped her. She hardly cared what comes next anymore.
A stroll in this state? Perhaps not.
Simpler to go home, eat, and rest her weary body. And be alone with her thoughts.
No. It's not *simpler*. Sleep wouldn't come. Restful sleep needed earning. Breathing felt laboured enough without adding confinement. Entering her kotti now felt like suffocation.
Ami walked, counting steps. A heated discussion raged inside again... But she didn't care.
Likely nothing new. Thoughts came, thoughts went… Like her life's events.
Her body trudged the familiar route, left the city, and drifted toward the big green Hill she didn't notice. Her feet carried her, thrilled to be in charge.
The physical effort, heavier than usual, brought mental relief. Especially with the intriguing flowers and plants flanking the path, snagging her wandering attention.
Omill's trees held a unique hue... like its sky. Noticeable as she climbed higher.
The walker stopped at a level spot, spotting the previously noticed pond with water lilies and a stone seemingly placed by nature for sitting. She sat, her bag under her, and sank into a blissful stupor, gazing across the water reflecting the sky.
Everything invited serene contemplation: the half-wild pond was beautiful, the city view splendid, and the air brought profound relief.
She could finally breathe freely. Become a breath, dissolving into it all.
Shedding the weight of "self". For a while... But everything's temporary. Voices were right. She dealt with a lot of frustration before. And. Where is it now?
All forgotten. Like it never existed. The same will happen to her whole life.
Happiness. Peace. Joy. Fleeting things. Brief flashes against gloom and hardship.
Gone in a blink. Worth noticing?
Probably. Not their length, but their frequency matters. Yet clinging shattered them. One could only immerse fully in each moment. Perhaps that was all the happiness life offered.
The icy chokehold loosened. She could observe her cherished sights undistracted.
The gradual illumination of Omill's landmark mushrooms by their clinging plants and own soft glow. The sunset luminaries outlining the charmingly round kotties.
So hypnotic... Impossible to look away.
Ami "froze" on the vista, unaware the city, mushrooms, and distant woods blurred into colours, then into one bright smear… Time passed unmarked until her eyes refocused.
It's properly dark now. Mushrooms shine so bright. Stars glitter above the softly glowing city.
…And now the wanderer realised she had half of Omill to cross.
She'd won this light's fight with gloom. Her mind felt clearer, emptier.
But her physical strength? Barely enough to stand. Only collapsing seemed feasible. To sleep right here.
Amelia eyed the stone sceptically.
Unlikely comfy. Especially without bedding. Omill was warm, but the season was cool.
Like it or not, she must haul herself home.
Groaning, she stood, thanked the lovely spot for its company and temporary peace, and trudged home. Unaware, a silly tune looped in her head, hummed discordantly by her weary voices.