Journal Entry, Dated 13/02
Jasmine
Metadata
Reference Number: BICI/SSP/CRJ1004/009
Title: Journal Entry, Dated 13/02
Author: Jasmine
Date: Written approximately 13/02, Year 5607 A. o. W.
Extent: One journal entry, five pages long
13/02
I’ve struck a deal with Nico. It’s not a bad one, all things considering. The biggest drawback is that I’ll be stuck here for a while because of it.
Nico wants to wall off the whole village. Not to keep potential visitors safe from aberrations, but from the chasm. And, I suspect, from the ruins of the village itself. He thinks this place should stay buried in the past. He also wants to build signs directing lost travelers back to the main paths. And if I help him build those walls and make those signs, he’ll teach me how to fight. Not only that, but he’ll help me find the answers I need.
Nico explained that the Tending Grounds are an Undying Ember camp, but only for trainee Embers. Some part of me knew that from Spica’s stories, but I never put all the pieces together before now. I thought there’d be plenty of fully-fledged Embers there, but apparently there aren’t. Teenagers learning how to swing swords and sling fireballs can’t give me the answers I want.
Spica would be there, too, though. And once she learned that Blossom had been killed, I know she’d help me find the truth. But even when I told Nico as much, he insisted it was a terrible idea. We had to go elsewhere.
If I wanted the best lead on who killed Blossom and why, then I needed to go to the Undying Ember’s headquarters. The Hearth. Records of all Undying Ember activities are kept there.
He wasn’t sure, but he thought the Flame-Feeder might know something about Blossom’s death. I remembered the name from Spica; that was the leader of all Undying Embers. She’s the only mortal who is granted true audiences with His Eternal Warmth, and she leads the Undying Embers on His behalf.
Nico had nothing kind to say about her. “She’s a real piece of work, if you ask me. Patronizing, egotistical, stubborn, and rash. Thinks she knows better than everyone else! Did you know she was an assassin before she was the Flame-Feeder?”
Apparently, her background is common knowledge amongst the Undying Embers. Makes them all less likely to cross her, if you ask me.
Nico had more to explain, though. “We don’t know who exactly killed your sister, or why they did it. There’s a chance it could have been some random Undying Ember with a misplaced grudge they took out on an innocent kid. But there’s a chance it wasn’t. Between you and me, this Flame-Feeder can have some creative interpretations of His Eternal Warmth’s orders. So if your sister’s death was a formal order, then I’d be willing to bet the Flame-Feeder had something to do with it,” he told me.
“Then why don’t we just find the Flame-Feeder?” I asked. “Why go to the Hearth at all?”
“Well, we don’t know where she is right now. That, and she’d kill us in a heartbeat if we confronted her. But the Hearth is busy enough that we should be able to sneak in with the right supplies. And those records she keeps aren’t going anywhere.”
“If we do run into her, we should question her.”
Nico looked at me, panicked, then shook his head rapidly. “Hey, I have an idea! Let’s definitely not do that. Most Embers have no idea who I am. I’d like to think she didn’t know my face well enough to recognize me either, but I don’t need to take that chance. That, and she’s a stab first, ask questions later kind of person. We’ll be much safer avoiding her.”
I didn’t love that answer, but it was pointless to argue. “Alright. Sure. The Hearth it is.”
As for those supplies I wrote about earlier? We can’t get in without them. The Hearth is protected by a special magic that prevents anyone without a Brand from getting in. Apparently there’s an imprint of the sigil kept in the Hall of Kindling and Charcoal. If we can get that sigil, then I can use that to enter the Hearth. Nico was surprised to hear that I recognized the name. But how could I not? That’s where Spica was born.
Strange to think I’ll be in those halls without her there, but… it is what it is.
After I get the Sigil, I’ll need to secure Undying Ember armor. Just the shoulderplates will be enough. The Brand and all the magic within protects Embers from fire, leaving the armor mostly for decoration, but there’s plenty of magic within the armor as well. It’ll be more than enough to protect me. And the best place to secure that armor is in Strinarre, which has the second biggest Undying Ember population outside of the Hearth itself.
Nico offered to escort me. He doesn’t care that I don’t have anything to pay him with. There’s very little left for him in this village. According to him, his end goal is Strinarre, where he’ll settle down as a Wandering Ember working for whoever will pay him best, so he might as well travel with an interesting companion along the way. And between the sheer glut of Embers there, and the fact that the Flame-Feeder reportedly hates the city, he’ll be able to hide in plain sight.
Why wouldn’t I accept? It’s not as though he’ll burden me. I’m the dead weight between the two of us. I’m not stupid enough to believe I’d survive the journey alone. I need his magic. His power.
His knowledge is helpful, too. There’s so little I know about the world.
With a deal struck, I was at a loss about what to do next. Nico suggested an option as if it was obvious: “Take it easy! We’re going to work hard over these next few weeks. You should rest whenever you can.”
I had to bite back my reflexive answer: how could I ever rest when there’s so much to do?
But those tasks that used to take up every waking minute of my day are gone now. I abandoned the lighthouse. My sister is dead. I have nothing left to take care of.
So my afternoon is forcefully free, and it’s completely suffocating. Nico pestered me into laying in bed and resting, since my injuries are still somewhat fresh, but the moment he closed the door on me I got out of bed. After a little while I crept back outside, bored out of my mind.
Somehow Nico could tell what I was feeling. He offered to play a game with me, and we whiled away the afternoon sunlight moving strange wooden pieces around a strange wooden board. I’m still not sure I understand the rules, but… it wasn’t bad.
But that was all yesterday. Today, it’s morning, and I woke up once again to the smell of milk bread. When I offered to help Nico finish making breakfast, he once again shooed me back inside. “You walked all the way here by yourself, and you’re still recovering.”
“I’m fine. My hands are scabbed over. My leg doesn’t hurt,” I told him.
“Okay, but I haven’t gotten the chance to entertain someone in months. It’s a good thing for both of us, don’t you think?”
“That doesn’t mean I can sit on my ass and make you wait on me,” I protested.
“Haha, as if! You’re my guest. Not just that, you’re my injured guest.”
“I’m basically better—”
“My guest, still recovering from a severe injury. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook breakfast, and then made you haul logs and stones all day? You’d never heal. Go relax! Read one of my books. Write. Paint. Whittle a stick of wood into a little cow, I don’t know. Whatever you like to do, do it! I’ll get you once it’s ready.”
Now I’m back here. Writing all this down. Because Nico told me to.
No one’s ordered me around since my parents died. Blossom could only disobey me, not tell me what to do in turn. I can’t remember Spica ever disagreeing with me over something. Even the villagers never told me what to do. Kid or not, I was the lighthouse keeper. They needed me.
But Nico doesn’t need me. He’s strange. Always grinning or laughing, like the entire world’s nothing but a joke to him. He worries over so little, and sometimes it seems like all of the hardships that threaten to break me would barely slow him down at all. And he’s so delighted that I’m here.
How long has it been since he’s last talked to someone else, let alone for longer than a day?
…Nico is calling for me. It’s time for breakfast. And then, finally. Work.