Parallax

—10 minutes before Arthur and Michael went inside the dome—

Eric Olvasen

The sky was overcast with clouds. However, as one would expect from this weather, it was not exactly menacing. 

Instead it was quite calm. 

As a matter of fact it was so calm that despite the constant downpour, you could barely hear any noise like the usual belabour of raindrops drumming over each and every surface.

Almost as if the Gods were trying to hear the deepest, darkest secrets of people in a moment of silence. 

A wry chuckle escaped my lips at the thought, pushing out the amorphous cloud of smoke. 

The inquisitive—perhaps even playful wind—whisked it away and scattered the small cloud of smoke into wisps that lingered for a fleeting moment before disappearing from sight. 

"Mnnn-mnnnnnnnn…" 

A whining sound made me look to the side, right by my feet. A ball of white fur was sitting there, a melancholic look in its once lively eyes as it gazed at the pitter patter of the rain. 

I crouched down and then sat on the pavement that was being shielded by the awning right above the door which led to the backside of our house, on the opposite side of mother's garden. 

Patting the dog—Luna's—head gently, I tapped towards my lap as it stood up and slid it face in. Gently massaging the upper side of its head, I looked back at the rain. 

"Don't worry, he hasn't forgotten about you." I reassured, not getting an answer back from it. Of course, I would be an idiot if I was expecting it to talk back. 

But perhaps, I have been an idiot all along. As if sensing the dissemblance in my smile and the placid yet chaotic mess on inside, Luna shifted in my lap before licking my left hand. "Haha." A chuckle escaped me as it turned around and licked my face. 

"Who's a good girl, eh?" 

Ruffling the side of its face, I played around with her until she returned to her former cheerful self. "Go, fetch!" I spoke, throwing a wet twig in the rain. 

She ran after it excitedly. However, instead of bringing it back, she continued playing in the rain. As if its purpose of cheering me up had been finished and now it had no more reason to stay beside me. 

Thinking about it in this way made me smile. Even his pet was just like him. 

I looked down at my hand. The titanium ring around my left ring finger was still as lustrous as the first day I had worn it. 

Maybe my parents know. Maybe they don't. 

Well, who am I kidding? Mom more than likely knows. But I don't amount to enough to make her give it any heed. For all she could care, I could go fuck myself. 

It doesn't make me angry. Nor does it make me spiteful. And it definitely doesn't make me become indifferent towards my parents. I loved them. Still do. More than ever. 

Maybe that does make me a stupid person. For loving someone who doesn't love me back. Just because I wasn't able to manifest a technique. 

But that was my fate from the day I was born in the Olvasens. Born as the brother to someone who not just made his own parents pale in comparison in terms of raw talent but the majority of the other heirs. My cute little brother. Arthur. 

But eh, I still have a loving fiance. At least she loves me. Life isn't that bad. 

As I was trying to convince myself of that, I looked down at my ring once again. The blotches of dried blood had turned a darker shade of burgundy by now. Letting out a sigh, I brought the cigarette close to my lips once again and inhaled. 

It's a bad habit and will eventually kill me, I know. But as I said, I am an idiot. I prefer momentary respite over subtraction in my lifespan and lungs health. 

Pushing the smoke away, I grounded the tip into the ground I was sitting on and then stood up immediately. Taking out my phone, I scrolled through it. A few social media notifications and a few texts from my fiance. 

An unknowing smile crept up my face. Opening them I replied to her. Letting her know I was well and good. And not dead. 

The door behind me swung open and my father appeared from the other side. Quickly slipping the phone back into my jacket, I placed my foot over the butt—the piece remaining of the cig—and stepped to the side, letting him come out. 

He casted a sidelong glance at me before standing right by my side, letting his back rest against the wall. Taking a packet of cancer sticks out, he held one between his lips and then let his arms dangle to the side. I watched him stare at nothing in particular for a good 3 minutes. 

He was just standing there, as if waiting for it to light itself up. 

"I know you smoke, bucko. You reek of it. Now light it up for me." He shook his head and spoke while holding it in the corner of his lips. 

Letting out a nervous laugh, I took out the lighter and ignited it for him. 

"So you do smoke it." He mumbled, making my eyes go wide. "Well I guess you are old enough." 

"That was a guess?" I asked, totally baffled. Our father was a simple man. Things like these were beyond him. 

"Having an 8 year old outplay me forced me to learn a trick or two." He shook his head and then fished for any reaction from me from the corner of his eye. 

"Ah, yes. Arthur." I replied, his name rolling off my tongue with an odd sense of sweetness. I always loved my little brother. No matter how much he stayed wary of me. 

After a while of staring at me, he chuckled as well and then placed his hand on my shoulder. "You could've at least told me." Facing the back, he exhaled more smoke before turning back again to me and pointed at the ring on my finger. 

So he did notice.

"Well, you never showed any interest." 

Perhaps it was my tone that it seemed like I was pushing all the blame on him. 

He licked his lip, and then stared down at his feet that made a straight line on the ground. His face looked sullen, like hanging with grief. And suddenly I could see him age visibly a few years. 

"I was waiting for you to surprise me. Us." He spoke, shaking his head to the side. However, he didn't look up. Not just at me, but he just avoided looking up, keeping his gaze on the ground. 

I stayed silent for a while. 

I could hear the beating of my heart in my ears. And the dull drumming of the rain did little to mask it. I felt happy. Immensely so. Biting back a tear of joy, I placed my hand over his shoulder. "Communication hasn't been our strongest forte. So no one is to blame here."

He looked up at me. His eyes were red, but there was still a certain playfulness in it. Rolling them, he snorted. "Listen to yourself."

I frowned, but soon understood what he meant by it. "Hah. I guess I am wrong there." 

Communication was our strongest forte. It was just that we avoided it. 

"So? Who's the girl? Not going to let us see her or anything?" He asked, throwing the last bit of the cigarette on the ground and pressing his feet over it. 

"Someone I met during my physics class." I replied, replaying it in my mind. "And well… about meeting you…"

"Us. Your mother is alive and well." He corrected me. 

An involuntary scoff escaped my lips. "Is she?" I asked, squinting my eyes. 

He let out a sigh and then slid back against the wall. "She's your mother. I know she's complicated, but you have to understand. She's still the woman who gave birth to you. All of you."

"Yeah. I guess. But I am not letting her meet my fiance." 

"Alright, alright." He raised his hands in a placating manner. A smile formed on the corner of his lips as he left the support of the wall and inched closer. "Once Arthur is back from the expedition, let's meet her together."

I felt my eyes widen. Happily, I replied. "Sure thing. I am sure she will like Arthur."

Patting my back a few times, he walked past me. "As much as I appreciate this little moment we had, let's get back to work, eh? Your mother needs you in the basement."

The happiness and joy I had felt in this fleeting moment were once again washed away by the grave seriousness of the current moment. 

"You better tighten your interrogation of the Elven girls before Sif starts losing patience."

"What can a mudblood such as myself possibly do to a mighty elf?" I sarcastically remarked. 

He howled. It wasn't that funny, but I guess humour really is subjective. "Oh don't worry bucko. No technique doesn't mean you have lost your arcanum. Just splash that into her face." Laughing and seemingly proud of what he had said, he walked through the door and made his way towards the main door. 

"Are you serious…" he cried out, looking at his phone. 

"What's up?" I ran over to him. 

Looking up, he put his finger on his lips. "Do not even think about it. At least for now, ok?" He spoke before showing me the message on his phone. It was from Albert. 

「Young Master Arthur and Young Master Michael have entered the biggest Frontiter in Seoul after defeating 2 Wujins that had escaped from a small crack in the Frontier. Everyone is advised to immediately gather in Fjellborg. The Frontier is unstable and is about to integrate itself with the city. Scale of destruction and natural disasters is unknown. Travelling to Seoul is prohibited.」

"What are we going to do?" 

He scowled. "Stay normal. And just say I went away."

"Got it."

"She won't probe you. So you don't have to worry about it."

"I know."

After giving me an understanding nod, he suddenly gave me a small hug before peeling himself away. "Take care." He spoke and then pointed his finger at me. "You and your fiance owe me dinner as well."

A wide grin formed on my face "She's a good cook. We'll be looking forward to it."

"You better!" He shouted before running off towards his car. 

Well, off to the basement chambers we go…

******

Clinging to the air like a heavy fog, the musty odour lingered in the decently lit basement of our house. 

The scent of dampness mingled all too well for comfort with metallic tang of old, dried up blood, making every breath a laborious effort against revulsion. 

The yellow bulb attached to the chord overhead moved subtly, causing the long shadows to dance in a weird way all over the cracked walls. This house had housed many generations of Olvasens. Maybe from the time the first Olvasens set foot in Scandinavia. 

But unlike the other parts of the house, this place was never renovated. Just the smell in this place can make your senses go numb. More so for someone ordinary like me. 

Turning my body to the right side, I avoided the rusty chain hanging right in the middle of the pathway that led to my destination. I focused hard to keep the nauseous feeling in check. It was not my first time here. And perhaps would not be my last. But there are some things that you just cannot help yourself with.

Getting gripped by qualms here is one of those feelings. 

I can quite understand why Arthur hates this place. 

Despite being the only place we can call home. 

As I finally arrived at my destination and was about to open the door, I paused. Someone was already inside. 

"It would be wise to not subject yourself to any further harm, darling~" A smooth voice slithered. It made a shiver run down my spine. And despite the cold, biting edge to her voice, the words themselves seemed to be lathered in honey. "You don't want that guy to back in again, right~?" 

I felt the words stab into my heart. She surely could have referred me in any other way. 

Shaking my head to get rid of these thoughts, I exhaled deeply, despite how repulsive the mere act of breathing was in this place. 

You are used to this. Don't let something like this sway you! 

I reminded myself. I cleared my throat, loud enough for the ones inside to hear me. The clipping sound of the heel against the stone floor stopped as I did. After exactly 5 seconds—a customary requirement—I knocked exactly three times and then took a step back from it. 

After a few hurried steps, the door flung open. Looking down, I caught sight of my mother. She was as beautiful as ever. Short and petite, yet her expressions, the way she held herself, her gaze—everything screamed absolute, ironclad authority. Her grey eyes fixed on me, only for a fleeting moment before turning around. 

I waited for her until she reached the middle of the room and then followed right after. The door was quite big. While I wasn't the tallest person there was, I was definitely tall enough. And the door was around 7-8 inches taller than me. 

The thought that all of our ancestors were around this height baffles me. 

Moving on from the useless topic, the entire room was made out of thick stones of varying sizes. A huge table lined the other side of the room, extending from one corner to another, full of equipment. However, the most noticeable things in the room, without a sliver of a doubt, were the two chains sprawling downwards and the Elven girl captured in it. 

Multiple trails of blood came down from her wrist area that were tightly put in place like cuffs. The cuffs had two long but extremely sleek needles entering from one side of her wrists and protruding from the other. While usually such methods are used with a material that doesn't inflict pain or infection, such considerations were "not needed" in our current situation. 

Despite the fact that she was in such a miserable condition, I couldn't help but be mesmerised. Her long jade coloured hair was sprawled all over face and shoulders, and the blotches of blood all over hair and porcelain skin did little to dim her otherworldly beauty.

Literally otherworldly. Hehe. Anyways. 

Her neck was hung low and from beneath the heavy curtain of her hair, the tips of her pointed ears were poking out. 

My mother looked at me and then flicked her head in her direction. Taking in a deep breath, I walked over to her and then lifted her head. The chains rattled in tandem with her flailing hands as she tried to lung forward and bite my nose off. 

Simply taking a step back, I avoided it and her teeth chomped on the pungent air. Her hateful jade eyes were almost shining as she glared at me. 

As she tried to step towards me, she winced and her body sagged down. Looking down, I saw the same Arcanum disruptors stabbed into feet that were stabbed into her wrists. 

Suddenly she started to convulse and an ear splitting shriek made me take another step away from her. She was shaking her hands, as if trying to reach for her head and clutch it. "Hrrmppphhhhhhh…" She clenched her jaw and bit away the scream, as if not wanting us to hear her. 

Before I knew it, my mother was standing by my side. She placed both her hands on her face and forced her to look at her. "So beautifully defiant~" She cooed, her finger tracing around the edges of the elf's face. "I love it when they struggle for life~ It's kind of exciting~!" She exclaimed. However, her nail dug into the elf's blood-caked skin, the smile still persistent. "And revolting. Filthy monkeys trying to deny the obvious superiors." The previous heart warming tone transformed into something totally different. Pure evil. And as soon as she had taken her mask off and revealed her real self, she wore that mask again. "So darling~ Please tell us how you got here~? There is no Frontier in this city so it's impossible for you to come here."

The girl looked back up at mom. I stood by her side, even though the Arcanum restrictors stabbed throughout her body were blocking the flow of it. 

I was no better than mom, but at least I could still use my Arcanum for basic body augmentations. If anything really went south, I was ready to lay down my life for her. She was my mother after all. Even if it didn't mean much to her. 

*phtui*

I felt as if time had slowed down. The Elven girl had spat on mom. 

Needless to say she had avoided due to her having access to Arcanum herself, while the elven girl was no better than a slightly above average human. However, the act of defiance despite being in such a state was absolutely baffling to me. 

Panic surged within me as I looked towards my mom, trying to sense anything. However, her face was impassive. Not smiling, not disgusted. Just complete and utter silence. 

"Stitch her lips." Mom pursed her lips and commanded with a calm demeanour. 

My hands trembled. Torturing people for the Olvasens was my role. However, most of them were spies by other Syndicates. This elf… this girl… she was more than likely unaware of how she ended up here. I had done this work long enough to know when a prisoner was lying or not. While the elven girl kept her facade of secrecy, she had nothing to unveil. 

She was just as clueless as we are about their appearance without a Frontier. 

And while she can't use any Arcane Art due to blockage of flow of Arcanum in her other body parts, she can still use the Main Node in her heart to augment, or rather, form a wall around her brain. Stabbing her heart and brain would result in instant death. 

"Your thoughts are making it worse, Eric, I said…" she paused and turned towards me, "...stitch her lips." 

The hair on my nape rose up. Nodding my head, I walked over to the table and started taking out the necessary equipment. 

"You're wrong. Dead wrong. Even if death itself came knocking at my door, I'd sooner spit in its face than betray my homeland or my people." She seethed and then smirked. "Apollo himself could descend from Olympus, and I'd look him straight in the eye and tell him the same damn thing. My loyalty is unbreakable and my silence permanent. So go ahead, unleash your hell upon me." 

Mother took a step towards her. "Nothing is permanent." She spoke and then wiped her hand with a white cloth. "All of you in Eden… you disgust me. Such flawed creatures living amongst a superior race as humans—the idea itself is revolting."

"Living together?" She coughed, blood trailing down her nose. "Act arrogant for as long as you can. You have no idea what's coming for you." 

Mom straightened her back and then the same charming smile reappeared on her face. "On the contrary…" she rolled the words in her mouth for a few fleeting, blissful seconds before speaking, "...you have no idea what I am going to unleash on your kin." 

With those words she walked over to the door. "Stitch it up." She ordered without glancing back before shutting the door behind her with enough force to make the sound of it closing echo everywhere. 

I sighed, letting out a long breath. Picking up the huge needle, I threaded the surgical suture through the eye before giving it a small knot. Another heavy, pungent breath escaped my lips. As I walked over to her, she looked into my eyes for the first time. 

Two bright jade eyes. That had lost all their colour. There was no hope. No intel she could give. The last thing she vowed to do was to pose as someone with information. Except she didn't have any. 

Grabbing her by the chin, I applied a little force, making her lips pout. "You should stop posing." I spoke, my words breathless. "I know you have nothing to tell them."

She gnashed her teeth. "Don't take pity on me, mudwalker!"

An unrestrained chuckle escaped me. "Well, I am a mud-walker. Don't you walk on mud as well?" I asked, genuinely curious and let go of her for a while. 

"You filthy mud crawler." She was seething. But her whole body was trembling. If I were to release her chains, she would more than likely just crawl into a corner and hug herself. There was an innocent vulnerability to her voice and words. 

"Well we do love getting dirty." I replied. The tremble in her body was still there. I took a lock of her hair and felt it between my fingers. Their hair felt like it was made out of something else. Totally different from ours. 

"Don't touch me, HUMAN!"

"My bad." I immediately let go of it. "Why are you doing this?" I asked. I was curious. She could escape this torture. Sure her Arcanum would still be sealed away, but she wouldn't be subject to regular attempts by mother trying to tear her mind to bits and pieces and other psychological torture. 

"Because you filth deserve it." 

"I half-agree."

She blinked a few times, not sure what to respond with. 

"Humans are full of crap, yes. But it's impossible that every single one of you are saints, right?" I tried to reason. "You, or rather your ancestors, committed a holocaust against us. Just because we could reproduce quickly." I took a step forward. "In what world is that fair? Can you justify it?"

She looked me in the eye. Without a sliver of doubt, she replied. "It's unjustifiable."

"See? So you do agre—"

"You deserved it."

I looked at her with disbelief. "Are you serious? You just contradicted yourself!"

"Humans did everything wrong. They got what was coming for them!" She squeaked, her voice cracking as she spoke. 

Letting out a weary sigh, I felt my brows raise up a fraction of an inch. Moving to the table, my fingers curled around the flask—its texture and weight a comforting familiarity in my grip—that had some water to wash hands and carried it over to her. 

Though the flask was far from sterile, the alternative of bringing her water from upstairs would certainly result in me ending up trapped in an endless limbo of simulations created by my mom for a lifetime. And nope, I am not willing to undergo that for the sake of being good for a while. 

I am not that righteous. 

"K-Keep that away from me."

If hate was a tangible emotion, it would've burnt my entire existence to the ground by now. I had no idea this much hate was humanly possible. 

But well… she isn't exactly a human now is she? 

"Your voice is abrading. It must be painful to even talk." I replied. Pausing for a while, I spoke again, my tone getting a little sarcastic. "Now you don't expect me to give you water with a WQI score of 100 while being a war prisoner. Well, kind of war prisoner—-" 

As I was talking, she spat again on the floor. However instead of actual saliva, it was composed of more blood than any other thing. 

"See? Spitting everywhere is another leading contribution to having a parched throat." 

"You talk too much." She spoke between ragged breaths. "You are my persecutor. And this is not your first time." She tried to scream, but all that came out was a frightened whimper. "Put me out of my misery… be done with it."

With that flask still in my hand, I walked closer. This time she didn't look down. I could feel her breaths over my chin. "I do it out of obligation. Not because I enjoy it." I replied before placing the mouth of the flask on the lower side of her lips. "Drink up. This might be the last time you ever put something in your mouth." 

Her eyes flicked from my face down to the flask. As if swallowing her honour, she closed her eyes—-perhaps offering a silent prayer—-and then parted her lips just enough. 

Tilting the flask, a steady stream of water cascaded into her parched mouth, filling the interrogation room with the sound of loud, desperate gulps. Her throat worked furiously, evident from the rapid rise and fall of her throat bulge. I continued pouring it until she had emptied the whole flask in one go. 

I don't blame her. It's been almost two days. 

Not a single drop of water leaked elsewhere. It was surprising. Honestly. 

Once I felt that her breath had returned to normal, I stood in front of her. "Need something to eat?"

"Why are you doing this?" She asked and for the first time in a long time what she said was not dipped in potent venom. 

Disregarding her question, I snapped my fingers. "See? You can talk normally. Isn't it better than just cursing and spitting and causing opportunities for self-harm?" I spoke without waiting for an answer. "Also, your voice sounds a lot better now."

Her sharp features tensed and the sound of her teeth grinding filled the ominously silent room. 

"You are having filthy thoughts about me, yes? That is why you are showing me your pathetic mercy!" She paused and her voice dropped down. "I knew it. You humans are filthy to your core."

Raising my hands in jest, I shot back. "Hey, not our fault your men have a low libido." 

The chains clattered as she tried to jump at me. Trails of fresh blood seeped from inside the Arcanum restricting cuffs. Guess she is really sensitive about her people. Taking a mental note to not even joke about her people anymore, I fidgeted awkwardly around for a while. 

When I finally remembered what I was doing, I walked over to the table and picked up the biggest knife I could find. As I turned around, I saw dread in her eyes. Up until this point the torture was not serious enough to cut body parts. But seeing a bigger knife in my hand, she recoiled. 

Walking back to her, I flashed the blade in the dim lightning. Swallowing the lump in her throat audibly, she tensed up her muscles. 

A smirk formed on my lips as I took out an apple from the inside of my pocket. She looked at me, and then down at the fruit. Using the knife, I sliced the apple into equal sized pieces. 

As you would expect, she started struggling again. What a stubborn woman.

Holding her small head from the top with my hand—which fitted surprisingly nice into my grip—I held it in place. 

"Look, I am no doctor, but heightened state of anxiety can increase sensitivity to pain and make the experience feel more overwhelming than it's intended to be." I paused and looked down at her body. Her chest caved in and her elbow did so as well, as if trying to hide herself from my sight. 

Looking back up, I spoke again. "Your body is exhausted. There is no adrenaline to cushion the pain you are about to experience. Your whole body is shaking and your psyche—despite how tough you act—is obviously rattled." My words came out harsher than I had intended to, however, I at least wanted to do this much. 

A leopard can't change its spots, but that doesn't justify not wanting to do something good. Despite how feeble… how minute that deed is. 

"Do not touch me, heathen." She hissed. 

"Pfft–" Well don't get me wrong. I am not trying to look down on her, or make fun of her. However, her usage of such words is just funny at this point. I do get why she says all this. After Earth and Eden separated, people have used these terms for people of other religions as well. However, hearing it in real life is just funny. "Sorry. But you should realise at this point that calling me mudwalker or heathen, or insulting the four gods we worship won't get on my nerves." I paused, letting my words sink in. "I am not going to kill you due to losing myself to anger."

The colour from her face seemed to flush out. I didn't know that someone could get this pale. It's genuinely surprising. 

"Well then. Here you go." I spoke after a bit too many moments of extremely uncomfortable—no, grim silence. Her head was hung down as I feeded her a few slices of apple. She ate them silently, without making much sound. 

It was quite clear it was a fruit she had not tried before, however, I don't think that is a matter of concern for her right now. 

I wanted to convince myself that she was a poor girl stranded in a different world, landing into the hands of people she would not have thought of, even in her nightmares. However, too much empathy was unneeded. 

Would they have spared Arthur? If– only if… he had failed to defeat the giant and the dark elf, and had been captured, would he have been spared? 

The thought of Arthur going through the same torture, pain and potential ridicule sent an unsettling feeling wash over my heart. He was just a kid. No kid should be made to go through such things. But at the same time, this girl was a kid too. Yes, sure, in human years she was perhaps more than a 1000 years old, but she was barely older than Arthur in physical and mental capabilities. 

Looking down, I saw the bone in her left foot mangled. 

My jaw clenched itself. I hate doing this.

"You know what's funny." Trying to shrug off my own thoughts that were debilitating my will to act on mom's direct orders, I tried to lighten up my mood. Even for a little while. Not looking back at the girl, I continued to talk, walking over to the table. Spinning around, I took a seat over the creaking surface. "The way you call me—us humans as Mudwalkers, we also have a term."

"That woman has made it quite clear what it is. You call us monkeys." As if trying to hide the fear of her impending doom, she smirked. Or at least tried to, resulting in a fusion between a smirk and a downward curve. It was quite hard to make sense of whether she was trying to look down at me or hold back tears. "As dull as ever."

I tilted my head in confusion. After a while of emptily staring at each other, she looked back down, averting her gaze from me. Understanding that she had misinterpreted what I was going to say, I let out a chuckle before combing my fingers through my hair and slicking them back. "Oh, I was not talking about you." I waved my hand, dismissing what she had said. "What I was saying was that just as you call us humans as Mudwalkers, we also call other humans—those that don't have Arcanum—as Mudbloods. Weird how derogatory words start and end in mud. It's not even that bad, to be fair!"

Her features scrunched up. "Some humans… don't have Arcanum? Liar!"

I felt my features relax. "Why would I lie about something like that? You must already know, this world didn't have Arcanum to begin with." I shrugged my shoulders. "If each and every human knew about Arcanum, it would've been exhausted from Earth long ago."

She frowned. Well I guess it must sound selfish to her. Monopolising Arcanum to a few humans. 

"That boy… just who was he?" She asked, her frown deepening. "Are all humans this strong?"

Oh that cheeky boy! Sure left a deep imprint on this elf maiden, heheheh! "Oh that. He's my pookie bear!" I exclaimed, raising my fist into the air. 

...…silence~

I don't even want to look back at her to see what kind of disgusted face she's making. 

"Ehem, anyways. What I meant was that he's my cut—, he's my younger brother. Yes. As for your second question…" I paused and flared my chest proudly. "No. Definitely not. Well Arcanum user his age can't measure up to him. In any way possible." Thumping on my chest with pride, I exclaimed. "You were just too unlucky to have encountered him of all people in the world."

She bit her lower lip. However, it seemed like there was some kind of weight that had been removed from her shoulders. "I see…"

"You seem to have eased up with me." I spoke, looking at her from my spot. Her entire body tensed up. "Which kind of makes it even harder for me, haha—" Sheepishly scratching my nape, I stood up. "I haven't studied about species in Eden, but can you actually manipulate plants?"

She looked at me in an absurd way. "No."

"Oh, fair. I guess movies are just watered down stories from old times. You can't even call them diluted. It's a whole different thing now."

"Mo…vies?"

I was flabbergasted. No way they don't have movies. "You seriously don't have movies and stuff? What have you Edeners been doing for the last few million years or so??"

The same frown reappeared on her face. "Few million…?"

Something popped into my mind. Like a single cracker that inaugurates the many more that follow right after on Nyttårsaften's(1) night. Getting up from my place on the table, I quickly walked up to her. "How much time has passed since Eden and Earth were separated?"

"You and your damned Gods stole this land from us. It was not separated. It was torn off our world-" She hissed. But that was not important. 

"How long has it been?" I asked, holding her by the chin and placing the needle in the middle of her lower lip. "You know this can be averted. You have nothing of value. But this can save you." I tried to talk her into it. Bringing in factors that she couldn't deny. "And if you tell me a few things, I might ask Arthur—my brother to save your friend. You know, the dark elf…" 

Her eyes sparkled with joy. "She—she's alive…?"

"She is. But she can't talk. Because of that nothing can stop her execution." I pressed. "Except this vital fact."

Her jaw clenched. "A few hundred thousand years. Give or take."

The news felt like the blow of a hammer against my head. That would mean that every day he spends inside the Frontier would be days… weeks, hell even months! 

The needle dropped from my hands as I turned around. 

A chuckle filled the room as I moved towards the door. 

"Your little brother went inside this… Frontier, yes? That means he is in Eden."

My head snapped back at her. I have no idea what kind of face I was making, but I was sure it was not pleasant. Quite evident from how taken aback she was. As if trying to rub salt in my wound, she laughed as hard as she could. 

"If he is in Eden, he is not making it back alive." She stretched her neck forward, in my direction. "You said we were unlucky to run into him, right?" Her grin only widened. "Your brother was the lucky one to run into people who were not even apprentices. But that was just fate…" Her words were accentuated by the flickering light overhead. "...he will die. Tortured, torn to bits and his body parts displayed in the main square of the Holy Capital." There was a disgusting amount of relief in her voice. "Our deaths here will not be in vain. Hundreds, if not thousands of proud warriors of Eden will be waiting for him on the other side."

I felt my eyes narrow. "Do not underestimate humans." 

That was the only thing I managed to talk out loud before shutting the door and running upstairs. 

So much for being a nice guy… 

…maybe this hate between our species really is incurable. 

Despite how fast I was running, my mind was torn between two things. Fear for Arthur. I couldn't care less about Michael. And the disappointment at the elf's behaviour. I tried to show her not all humans were alike…

I shouldn't be so negative. We have trapped her and are torturing her. Of course she wouldn't think of us as anything. 

As I ran inside the house, I soon spotted my mother. As I was running in her direction, she suddenly turned and pointed her finger in my direction. An invisible forcefield punched into my guts like a car. Absorbing the impact by just coating my body in Arcanum, I kept myself from falling. 

"Take your shoes off. I don't want monkey blood on my rug—"

Interrupting her I spoke out of turn. 

"Arthur…he's walked straight into an ambush."

The Arcanum build up from her body was bile inducing and I almost fell to my knees. "Where is Aksel?" She demanded, her confident demeanour breaking. 

"He went to Fjellborg a while ago…"

She was shaking. Every muscle in her body twitching. "Bring him back. Bring me my Arthur." She walked over to me and grabbed me by the collar. "Tell Aksel, I need my Arthur back. I am not going to let him waste just like this." An intangible weight pressed down on me. "Tell him to retrieve Arthur right now. Or I am leaving this place and going for him myself."

I shuddered before taking a step back and getting out of her grasp. Taking the phone out of my pocket, I called my father. 

This is bad. As if two heirs falling into an ambush was not bad enough, mother is threatening to leave the house…

…this might be the end of our world.