Outside, the night's impenetrable darkness had long since fallen. All the mansion's inhabitants had long been asleep, preparing for the arrival of a new day. All, except for one fox-girl – Wyndia couldn't sleep. For an hour already, she had been tossing and turning, but felt no hint of approaching sleep. A myriad of thoughts swirled in her head, stubbornly refusing to release her mind, unprepared for such complex questions.
"It's all her fault! Why did she even need to tell me all that?! Stupid Nadia!" – she screamed in her thoughts, clutching her head.
Emotions, feelings, morality, choices… all of this was simply too much for a child's mind, just beginning to strengthen. And Nadia kept asking questions that still made the girl's head spin, and some, inexplicably seriously asked, made her cheeks burn.
Memories, flaring up with renewed force in her head, again caused heat to rush to her cheeks, making Wyndia unable to bear it any longer. She jumped out of bed, deciding to get some fresh air.
The Pelgue family's house was simply enormous, and even now, more than a week later, Wyndia could still sometimes get lost in its corridors, which was why her room had been assigned closest to the central hall.
'What should I do…'
Even on the way, thoughts continued to swarm in her head. Nott, the Scythe Hero. He was the very culprit of her mental torment. From the very beginning, she had expected nothing good and even regarded him with suspicion, but…
She simply had no other options left, because if she remained alone – she would almost certainly fall into slavery again. Most likely even on the same day.
'Funny. After all, I still ended up as a slave.' – the girl chuckled at her own thoughts.
But she wasn't at all saddened by her fate; quite the opposite. After her father's death, she didn't know if she would even survive another day, and now… From the very moment she made the desperate – like plunging headfirst into an abyss – decision, her life truly changed. And, perhaps, for the best possible.
Finally reaching the exit, Wyndia pushed with all her might against the thick, massive oak doors, whose cost was more than that of dozens of slaves like her.
As soon as the doors yielded, a cool night breeze immediately kissed the girl's face. Taking a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Wyndia left the mansion, stepping into one of the many beautiful gardens of the estate.
"People like me might not even be destined to see something like this in their entire lives…" – a detached thought flashed through her mind.
Wrapping herself tighter in the hastily donned robe, Wyndia slowly ambled forward. The cold air perfectly performed its function, refreshing and clearing her mind, allowing her to try to answer at least some questions. And at least for herself.
Wyndia lived a good life. She could have everything she wanted. She could do everything she wanted. And all thanks to one single person, but…
Was she truly happy?
"Hm?"
The girl's ears twitched, hearing some noise. Listening closely, she could distinguish a very, very faint, soft voice coming from the mansion's backyard, located to her left. Yielding to curiosity, Wyndia headed in that direction.
'Someone else is awake in such darkness?'
She kept getting closer to the source of the voice, but for some reason, it hardly grew louder. On the contrary, it seemed to gradually quiet down or break off.
Finally, reaching another corner of the building, Wyndia carefully peeked her head out. But what she saw… caused her eyes to widen in surprise and a short gasp to escape.
"…the source of power, I command: decipher the laws of the world… and shelter me. Zweit Wind Dome." – after these words, a dome of visible air currents covered the area.
And its epicenter was a constantly stumbling, greedily gasping for air, covered in drops of sweat… Night.
'What is she… training?'
Never had Wyndia seen Night push herself to a state even remotely resembling the current one. Nott was in charge of her training, and it always ended before she had a chance to get significantly tired.
The only thing that remained unchanged was this girl's calm face, just as it always was. Although no, Wyndia could call herself a girl, but to put herself on the same level as the one she was looking at now… Wyndia couldn't.
Night was always by Nott's side. Any task, any daily chore, any movement… she was always with him. And only on such rare occasions could they be seen apart. Night herself said that she felt uncomfortable in such crowded places as taverns, and Nott would already have Nadia as company, so this time the girl decided to stay.
'But all this was for… training?'
"?.."
Wyndia got too engrossed in staring at her… friend? She couldn't say exactly what they were to each other. But because of her engrossment, she didn't even have time to react to the speed with which Night turned her head in her current state.
"…Wyndia?"
"U-uh… h-hi?" – not very confidently, but the girl left her hiding spot.
"You're awake." – as always, Night was completely unperturbed. – "But it's already deep night."
"Yes… just like you."
"I…" – opening her mouth, the bird – as Nott himself often called her – couldn't find anything to say.
"Master Nott… doesn't know about this?" – Wyndia asked timidly.
Night was silent. She had already stopped maintaining the spell and was now simply looking at her unexpected interlocutor. Only the last question made her look away.
"…No."
"I see…"
"Will you tell him?"
"No." – Wyndia shook her head. – "If you think it's worth keeping a secret – I won't interfere."
"…Thank you."
Now an awkward silence enveloped both of them. One simply didn't know what or how to say, and the other still couldn't sort out her own feelings.
"Tell me, Night… why are you so attached to him?" – since she couldn't understand her own feelings, Wyndia decided to try to find answers from others.
"I… don't know." – Night turned away again. – "I feel… that it's supposed to be this way." – after a short pause, she continued. – "At first, I just followed my instincts, but then I… I think I began to understand."
"Understand… what?" – Wyndia, trying to find a clue, leaned closer.
"Master… is a very strange person. He is strong, almost never serious, knows what others don't, but… I don't know."
"?.."
"I don't know how to explain it. I… I just feel like it's not him." – still maintaining an impassive expression on her face, Night tilted her head to the side, deep in thought.
"In what sense?" – Wyndia seemed to be getting even more tangled in her thoughts with each new answer.
"…One day we stumbled upon an unusual monster." – instead of answering the question, Night suddenly began a story. – "He was big, scary, and strong. But then, when we had almost defeated him… it turned out that this monster could change its appearance. When it ran out of strength to maintain its ability, it became… so small, fragile, and miserable." – Wyndia listened silently, trying to understand the essence of this story. – "For some reason, that monster couldn't get out of my head ever since. And only recently did I begin to understand. That monster… seemed very much like him."
"I… still don't understand."
"Neither do I."
Sighing, Wyndia sank exhaustedly against the wall of the mansion, the corner of which she hadn't left since the very beginning of this strange conversation.
"You know, Night, I don't understand something else." – noticing an attentive gaze on herself, the girl continued. – "Master saved me, I understand that. All this time he hasn't done anything bad to me, quite the opposite – he cared for me and didn't restrict me in any way. I am very grateful to him and I don't know if I will ever be able to repay him, but…"
Wyndia couldn't bring herself to put into words what was swirling in her head. Would she seem ungrateful? Rude? Foolish? Selfish? These thoughts tormented her, but looking into Night's eyes… it seemed to her that she shouldn't expect judgment from her in any case.
"…when he talks to me, I get the feeling as if he… looks through me. As if he… doesn't see me in me. And even with you, he acts the same way, though not so explicitly! He cares for us, talks to us, and helps us, but… it's as if he doesn't see people in those around him. You must have noticed this too, right? I'm not just imagining all this, am I?"
But that wasn't all. At first it wasn't noticeable, but the longer she was near the Scythe Hero, the more often she noticed it…
The gazes. The gazes people cast upon him. Gazes filled with hatred, contempt, and malice. And they, as his companions, received exactly the same gazes.
It weighed on Wyndia. Completely unaccustomed to society, the girl was simply not ready to encounter it in such a manifestation. Only now, having found solitude in the Pelgue family's mansion, could Wyndia calm down. But even to this day, it sometimes seemed to her that those burning gazes were still aimed at her back.
"…"
"Come on, sister Night, tell me!"
But Night did not answer. Her hands dropped powerlessly, and her gaze turned upwards, examining the clear night sky.
"It… doesn't matter." – slowly closing and opening her eyes, she finally spoke. – "My life belongs to Master. And I will stay by his side, no matter what happens. I… feel that this is right."
Neither of them said another word that night. Wishing to get answers to her questions, Wyndia only got more confused herself, faced with such a firm, and at the same time so incomprehensible to her, position.
But Night unequivocally believed in the Scythe Hero. Believed with all her soul.
'Maybe… I should just believe too?'