Ashley Falcon
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Chapter 157: Art is in the eye of the beholder, but I’m blind as a bat.
🕑 Added 2022-04-14 11:02:34 +0000 UTCThe aftermath of master Strand’s attack taught me an important life lesson. I can't leave an unconscious body in the middle of a hospital and skip the paperwork.
"You're lucky you have friends in high places.” Gerial spoke.
The authorities arrived a few minutes after everything was over. They’d cleared the area and taken Master Strand away.
After that came a rigorous questioning process that had been interrupted by Gerial.
"I told them the truth." I shrugged. "They seemed pretty nice about it.”
Gold chirped in agreement. He was resting on my shoulder, comfortably bobbing his head from side to side as we reached fresh air.
We walked outside of the hospital, waiting for our portal to arrive.
I’d fudged a couple of the minor details, but the main points got through. Amanda’s targeting, Roxxy being used as a relay, and us coming to stop Alexis from being hurt.
They’d had a method of determining lies and truth similar to Mr Black, which worked well for me.
"Amanda’s going to be there for a little while longer." Gerial gestured in front of him. “Are you sure you want to go back to the museum? Roxxy’s not there anymore, she's back at the hotel.”
"I'm sure." I nodded at him.
I wasn't done with Bob. There were a lot more questions I wanted answers to that only he could provide.
A chime flew through my ears, wisps of mana mist gathering at my feet and purple water dripping into a pool that surrounded my feet.
My portal had arrived.
We stepped through it, making our way through the nexus corridors.
"What happens to Hutton now? And the others whose families were involved?” I asked.
Several classmates of mine would wake up from their comas, only to find out that their families had been arrested, their reputations crumbling.
They had had no say in the matter, and had been innocent in all the events, but when they woke up their lives would be changed for the worse.
“We’ll find those involved, but I doubt any will be students.” Gerial shook his head, a tinge of sadness crossing his features. “Attempted murder of a student is only the tip of their pile of crimes. The guards of the room stepping aside, and other matters have to be investigated as well. You'll likely be called in a few more times.”
I nodded. The Mitra household would be furious. The branches and Amanda’s grandfather.
Her family's influence extended well beyond Koshima.
"I'm fine with that."
Alexis had almost been stabbed in his sleep. That kind of thing didn't get waved away.
"Gold did a great job as usual." I scratched the puffer's neck.
He preened and flapped his wings joyfully.
Between the Oubliez incident and this attack, Gold was running low on shield regents. He liked to use multiple shields at once in case one wasn’t enough. It was hard to tell the limits of his shields without extensive testing.
That was something I intended to fix. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sacrificing a few regents if it meant finding out the extent of his abilities.
There was a light at the end of the corridor and a flight of stairs led up into our destination.
The Gesti Museum.
Gerial put his disguise on, the flesh of his golem suit rippling like liquid across his face. It was disconcerting to watch.
"I'll go first." I took a step through the door.
Dim light greeted my eyes as I stepped onto a marble floor. I was back inside the exhibit where Bob and little Bob resided.
Gerial walked behind me, but once he entered the room, he made his way to the corridor. Keeping me in sight, but also giving us some distance.
He knew that this was a private conversation.
There was movement in front of me and I saw Bob rise up from the table to greet me. Little Bob looked up as well and gave me a small wave.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been worried that they might not be here.
Between helping Amanda and cleaning up the mess, a few hours had passed. I could hear voices from beyond the cordoned ropes and Gerial.
The museum was up and running again.
"You ended up coming back." Bob's voice greeted me. “I'm surprised, I assumed you would want to never have anything to do with the Gesti again.”
Each step he took towards me was heavy, the ground groaning at his weight. I should have noticed his peculiarities earlier.
It didn't matter now.
"And you brought— a bird?” Bob tilted his head and looked at Gold.
The puffer raised his wing and chirped happily at him.
"Oho. That's quite the request.” Bob flicked his fingers.
A gold coin appeared in front of Gold, and the puffer looked at it curiously as it floated in the air.
Then he squawked.
"Your name is Gold?” A look of embarrassment crossed Bob’s face and he took the coin back. “‘My apologies.”
I laughed at the two of them. Somehow, Gold had been offered more money than I’d had in my life within two seconds of conversation.
My attention shifted to Bob, who was trying to hide his awkwardness by looking down.
He’d asked me to trust him, and I had.
There was no denying that because of him Amanda and Alexis were still alive.
“I wanted to ask you a few more questions." I looked into his eyes. “If that's okay with you.”
Bob’s head perked up, his very being exuding a gentle atmosphere.
His embarrassment was gone, and in its place was comfort in confidence.
I didn't know if the man he was based on had been this kind, or if his situation had changed his outlook on life, but for all intents and purposes Bob should have been furious with me.
My mother was the reason he was dead.
"I'll answer what I can, but in truth I'm just happy to have someone to talk to. It's been a while since I've spoken to anyone aside from little Bob.” He gestured with his thumb towards the table. “Grab a seat. I apologise in advance if I ramble on. I've been told I can be a bit talkative.”
"Trust me, I have the most talkative person in the world sitting on my shoulder.” I strode towards the chairs.
The nearest one had a hole in it. It was the chair he had been sitting in when he was talking to me before.
I sat down, the hard material pressing into my back.
Gold hopped off my shoulder and onto the table. He examined the drawings that little Bob was making and ruffled his feathers at the boy.
Little Bob’s face broke out in a smile at the sight of the puffer.
“Bob, the first thing I want to say is that I appreciate your help.” I threaded my fingers through my hair to ease my tension. “I came here convinced you were my enemy and acted like it. In return you helped me save my friend's life.”
Bob took my words in stride and waved his hand dismissively.
He didn't sit. Instead, he hooked his fingers around the top of the chair and stood behind it, facing me.
"I would have done the same for anyone. Regardless of whether or not you consider me your enemy, that doesn't mean your friends have to suffer.” He smiled. "Come now, I can see that you have more questions for me. Unfortunately, we don't have too much time."
What did he mean by that?
I wasn't sure, but there was one question that I'd wanted to ask since meeting him.
"Can I tell my mother about you?” I asked. “Or even bring her here to meet you?”
He shuffled uncomfortably and crossed his arms, a flash of worry crossing over his features.
The request was simple to fulfill. With portals I could have my mother inside this building within minutes. However, I could tell from his expression that he was going to reject my request.
“That's a bad idea.” He grimaced. “Your mother isn't allowed to leave the house, let alone enter Gesti territory. The moment she steps in here, it's going to cause a lot of trouble.”
He was right.
I stretched my legs and stood up, looking into his eyes.
"Can you go to her?”
Bob shook his head, raising his hand to stop any objections.
“I'm tied to Gesti Sky and the main Gesti household. To go anywhere else, I would need permission from my brother. He will not give it.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. I could see the conflict in Bob’s expression, and the emotions of worry and lingering nostalgia in his eyes.
He wanted to visit his friends, but he couldn't.
I doubted that the Gesti wanted others to know of his existence. A golem that could live on even after the original person had died was something I'd never heard of.
It was a form of life extension, possibly even immortality. I was sure that there had to be more to it.
It couldn't be that easy, and the price wouldn’t be low.
"Is she happy?" Bob’s voice floated into my ears.
I looked up at the man and saw the genuine concern in his eyes. His foot tapped the ground nervously and he raked his fingers through his silver hair.
"She is." I said with certainty. “She’s built a life that she enjoyed, and she lets me know it every day.”
There weren't too many things I was sure of in this world, but the happiness my mother felt was one of them.
"That's great." Bob's smile grew wider. “I wish I could ask the same question about the rest of my friends.”
Footsteps echoed across the room, and I turned my head towards the source.
Little Bob was walking toward me.
He’d pushed his chair back, and at some point, he’d let Gold hop onto his shoulder, the puffer looking intently at the drawing in the boy’s hand.
Gold stared up at me and squawked.
Worry. Familiar.
There was something about the paper that was bothering him.
"Oh?" I leaned toward little Bob. “What’s up?”
The child had a drawing in his hand and his nose scrunched up as he looked at me. Then he raised the paper and compared it to my head.
"Don't mind him." Bob chuckled lightly and moved next to Little Bob. “When he gets an image in his mind, he has to draw it out. That's how we function.”
Little Bob nodded his head absentmindedly, but I could hear Gold clicking his beak and see his claws tightening their grip on the golem’s shoulder.
I would have to check out what was on the paper before the night was over.
Seeing the two golems side by side reminded me how familiar they were. Matching silver hair and eyes. It couldn't be a coincidence.
"Are you and little Bob both based off Maxemillian Gesti?” I coughed to cover up my poor wording. “Or um, born from him? I'm not sure what the terminology is.”
Bob chuckled at my nervousness and his expression told me that he wasn’t offended by the question.
"We’re both based off of him, yes.” Bob nodded. "Little Bob has his earliest memories. The first five years of my life were when I discovered my lifelong passion. They were also the years of my life when I was the most powerful.”
Most powerful?
I looked at the kid beside Bob. He didn't look that tough.
If I compared him to Gold, then the puffer would come out looking more menacing than little Bob.
"Perhaps powerful isn't the right word." Bob followed my gaze. “I should have said ‘connected’. I can connect to the hearts of the people around me. Memories, dreams, and many other things all display themselves to me. If I want them to.”
He took a step away from the chair and towards the painting, and I followed him.
Gold chirped and little Bob moved beside me.
"If you can do all that, I find it hard to imagine that my mum could bring anything to the table." I looked around the room. “What did she do here?”
If there was one thing my mum was adamant she would never talk about, it was her past. She was happy as she was, and content.
That didn't mean she didn't have lingering pain.
"She introduced concepts to people to bring up old memories for me to paint. None of them were what we wanted. It was a major waste of time." His lips parted into a smile, and he beamed. “But it sure was fun.”
Bob raised his hand and connection mana swirled through the air.
All of it drifted towards the giant painting on the wall, scattering over it and dissolving into the canvas.
I couldn't see any visible changes to it.
“This memory was my goal.” Bob clasped his hands behind his back.
It looked like an ordinary painting to me. I couldn't see it being worth creating an entire job over. It seemed more like a hobby that Bob’s family had supported because they could.
The rich truly were different.
"I recognise that look." Bob grinned. "My teammates had it plastered on their faces almost every week at least once. It’s true I only painted memories for a living, however, this memory is special."
"How?" I stared at the painting.
Gold looked at it as well. I could see his chubby belly craning over little Bob’s shoulder as he stretched towards the canvas.
"This isn't the memory of a single person.” Bob smiled. “This memory resides within every human. Or at least memories similar to it. They all follow the same theme. Perhaps they're an event. Or maybe a shared dream.”
It was strange to imagine my mother working alongside the Gesti. Uncovering a hidden memory and trying to bring it to life in a painting.
"Clearly, you found the memory." I examined the painting. "Why are you still working?”
"Because we didn't recreate all of it." His expression turned serious. “We found parts of the memory using trigger concepts. Biology, cooking, administration, engineering, finance, mathematics, and astronomy. Some seemingly unrelated, but all crucial.”
Wait.
Why did these words sound so familiar?
"We’d triggered something inside the people we exposed the concepts to. It was the memory hidden deep inside them.” Bob pointed at the painting. “Then all I had to do was connect to that part of their being and draw it out.”
He paused as there was movement to my side.
Little Bob held out his piece of paper to me, his drawing complete. I took it gently from his hands and looked at it.
Trees, a grassy field, a single floor of stone. All of it was on fire. The trees were crushed by a massive pressure and the stone was cracking. This sky was blank as well.
“This is mine?” I compared it to the painting on the wall. "I thought you said you needed an entire team to do this.”
Bob was saying that inside my heart there was a hidden memory.
This was that memory.
The setting was completely different to the painting, but the theme was the same, fire and destruction. It looked like the same event was occurring in two different locations.
It looked incredibly familiar. Like I had seen it before.
"I needed your mother and the others to help me find where it was hidden inside every person.” Bob shook his head. “After we found it, I learnt to retrieve it without the help of my team. But only the parts that we had already located.”
His expression was tinged with sadness.
I knew that at some point he'd died before finishing the painting, and the work had been done for nothing.
Then he let out a chuckle and gave little Bob a pat on the head.
"That's why I stay here. We mingle with the crowds in private and walk among the people as they go about their lives. Then we come back here and draw their memories, trying to find the missing pieces and solve the puzzle.
But I can't finish it.” Bob’s expression softened. “Maxemillian could, but I'm not him. His abilities were constantly growing and improving. Mine stagnate with time. I'm no longer half the man who used to be, and perhaps only a tenth of what he could have been.”
Little Bob's shoulders drooped at the man's words.
Gold raised his wings, and I lifted my arm. He hopped off the golem and landed on me, hopping up to my shoulder.
"Why do you have to finish it?" I asked.
"Because that was my dream. To discover the hidden memory shared across our entire race." Bob held his hands behind his back and gazed at the painting on the wall. “To others it was a pointless exercise. A waste of talent. Well, call it conceited, but I knew that I needed to share it with the whole world.”
I saw his fingers curl into fists behind his back.
He truly believed what he was saying.
I wasn't going to laugh at him. This man had dedicated his life to a single purpose, and he had lost it in pursuit of his goal. The least I could do was take him seriously.
"What do you call it?" I asked.
Bob gazed at the painting, nostalgia changing his features.
"I called it The First Night.” He spoke.
What?
I stared at him, a rippling sensation crawling across my skin. A single memory shattered my thoughts.
Flames. Destruction. The end of the world.
A single eye.
Bob saw my stare and raised an eyebrow at me.
"I'm not sure why I named it that.” He shrugged. "Maybe I had a reason once, but I’ve forgotten what it is.”
My fingers clenched the drawing little Bob had given me, creases forming as it was scrunched under my nails.
I knew why it looked so familiar. The trees, the flames, and the stone altar. It was all taken from my point of view from when I was a child.
It was my first night.
Little Bob had drawn a memory hidden deep within me, but his depiction was different from my memory. At the very top of the drawing was a blank sky.
The final missing piece of the puzzle.
"You were going to show this to the world?" A small bead of sweat dripped down my forehead.
Bob took my question in stride.
"I was. I’d even shown my preliminary painting to an organisation that was interested in displaying my art. It was a dream come true. They would've spread it across the world, even further than the Gesti could have.” He rubbed his neck as he spoke, his posture tense. "Unfortunately, the day after I showed them was the day I died.”
An organisation?
There couldn't be many entities that could spread artwork across the globe.
The man in front of me didn't know the value of the memory he had uncovered. That didn't mean that nobody did.
"Which organisation did you speak to?” Urgency crept into my voice.
Bob stroked his chin and gazed at me in confusion.
"It was the Church of—”
“What is he doing here?” A new voice crashed into my ears.
My head shot up and I turned toward the voice.
There was a man at the entrance of the corridor.
Bright silver hair cascaded like silk across his shoulders, and his silver eyes burned with fury.
Each step he took drew my attention. There was an invisible pressure around him, an aura that grabbed my attention and held it in a vice grip.
He ignored me completely.
"Did you think we wouldn't be alerted to the use of two portals within our premises?” The man stared at Bob.
Bob took a step back and I saw his hands trembling.
"My apologies, Ignatius.” Bob’s voice wavered.
Ignatius looked at the golem with fiery eyes.
"You are not to give my name out.” His voice dripped with anger. “Understood?”
Bob didn't reply, lowering his head.
“Understood?” Ignatius turned towards him.
I could sense a shift in the mana around me. It wasn't connection magic. Instead, waves of fire mana swirled around his body, dancing and gliding across the man’s skin.
Bob looked at his brother and a wave of heat brushed over us. He took a step back and I heard a popping sound.
I wasn't sure what caused it.
"Yes, brother." Bob conceded.
The heat touched my clothes and I stepped back involuntarily as its pressure pushed against me. The sound of my step rippled gently through the room as my shoes touched the marble.
The man's head whipped towards me.
"I know who you are."
His tone gripped my heart, an ice that burned as fiercely as the sun.
"Andross Silver. The boy I’m trying to claim.”
