Chương 106: CHAPTER 103.2 – Is It Truly Winter?
Stillore: Shard and Canvas · Ludwika · 123 chương · ~26 phút đọc · Tạo 24/08/2026
Two figures struggled in the water against a sinuous, massive shape. Rainbow scales writhed in the sea foam, shaking and hurling the two beneath the jagged waves of early morning, still tinged with orange. The creature's muscles burst from beneath its skin, pouring all their strength into its tail and sending one of the unlucky pair onto the beach.
"Lance!" The man in the green swimsuit braced himself, wrapping a chain around the gills of the gigantic serpentine fish. Contracting his whole body, he hurled himself onto the beach. In the sand, the boy had gotten up, trying to brush off the coloured grains stuck to his damp skin, when a shadow completely covered him.
"Sorry!" The fish, now asphyxiated, fell on the boy, raising a multicoloured blanket of fine dust. The man sighed, immediately approaching the carcass. A hand emerged from beneath it, slowly dragging the buried body out. First a head streaked with black, then a torso. The fish was lifted as the boy slipped away.
"Did you really have to throw it on top of me, Maliard?" Lance frowned, pointing a finger at him. Maliard sighed, grabbing the creature's head. It was massive, with an almost pyramidal shape and a single row of yellowish teeth with multiple sharp crowns.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional. But look at this! It seems to have adapted to the singularity's presence without mutating. Incredible!" Maliard grabbed one of the fangs, noticing that, just like the gills, it had tiny bright violet dots, like crystals.
"It seems Meta aren't the only evolution!" Maliard smiled, placing the tooth in a dark, glossy pouch.
"Of course, the world is too vast… A single lifetime wouldn't be enough to see it all!" Lance smiled, grabbing the creature by the tail.
"Well… Now you have much more time, don't you?" It took them a while to bring the strange species under the gazebo, slowly filleting and sectioning it.
"Maybe I can become like Albert, what do you say?" Maliard sighed, licking his lips.
"Yeah... That will happen when you grow out of that hero syndrome of ours." Lance grunted, watching the fish they caught.
"Being like her is hard. She always has to bear everything alone. Maybe you too are similar... Or maybe cause you both are morons." Maliard felt his face being pierced by Lance's gaze.
"Do you think we can eat it?" The boy's face peeked out from among the bones, staring at the strange violet indentations between the white cartilage. Maliard placed the crushed bones in a vial, starting to boil the remains.
"The scans seem normal. For humans, it might be toxic in long-term consumption, but it's perfectly safe for us… In theory." Lance had already started mincing a large fillet. His smiling face and Maliard's dull, half-closed eyes met as the knife repeatedly struck the wood.
"You heard me, didn't you?" Lance gave a quick nod, now throwing the vaguely pinkish meat into a bowl, soaking it in various sauces. He moved among the bottles with such skill that Maliard almost lost focus on his thoughts.
"So you understood it could be dangerous." Lance smiled, now grabbing a damp sack from under the counter.
"Of course, Maliard, but my instinct tells me it's a good idea!" Maliard crossed his arms, letting himself fall onto the stool.
"After all the operations we've faced… You're telling me you trust your instinct?" Maliard sighed again while Lance grabbed some sticky rice and kneaded it with his hands.
"It seems absurd, but I've been right almost every time!" With a spoon, he arranged the marinated fish on a bed of rice, decorating it with a few herbs.
"Your argument is a walking logical fallacy…" Maliard found himself offered that strange bite, strangely cube-shaped and with a vaguely minty smell.
"Sorry, you're not cooking it?" He grabbed it, feeling it sticky between his fingers.
"Hoku said that where he comes from, fresh fish is eaten like this! I don't think I have his mastery, but as an attempt it's not bad." Lance ate his portion, chewing while preparing others, always with the same movements.
"Yes, I know that, but it doesn't seem like a brilliant idea. Sure, we're immune to infections and the rest, but this is a new specimen and—" Lance shook his head with his usual vague smile.
"You should know that better than me… Life is experience. Everything you can carry with you becomes part of what you are. Don't always think, Maliard." His eyes widened, hearing in his mind an echo of a warm, mature voice. He smiled, starting to eat too.
"Not bad…" The boy burst out laughing, greedily grabbing one of the large nuts and cracking it. He poured the contents into the goblets, handing them to his friend.
"Add some juice and ice! Bluette liked it that way." The two laughed as they gorged themselves. They ate and prepared more and more bites until only the fat remained to grease the bowl.
"Hey Lance, we should really go see it…" Maliard wiped his lips, turning his emerald eyes to the horizon, now tinted with a mixture of white and blue.
"See wh-what?" With his cheeks full of rice, fish, and fruit, Lance smiled.
"The world! We have to see the world together!" Lance had to tilt his head at the sight of the smile on his dear companion, a sight so unusual it made him forget how to chew. The boy stared at him for a few seconds, then raised his hand.
"OF COURSE WE WILL!" Their palms met, accompanied by fat laughter. From a distance, a woman dressed in a tight, elastic black suit hopped toward them with unsettling speed. She stopped right behind Maliard, soaking him with water. She took off her square, dark glasses, smiling.
"And what are you two doing here? A little lunch all alone?! I haven't seen Maliard alone with someone for decades." The woman rested her elbows on his head, clumsily grabbing one of the bites.
"You always surprise me, you know!" Lance laughed, immediately handing her an amber-looking glass.
"And what were you doing, Monica?" She also sat down, stuffing herself with the leftovers while Lance continued slicing the enormous block of meat left far from Maliard's samples.
"Underwater investigation! The seabed is so beautiful when light breaks through the surface. It looks like a real treasure. It's so bright. Jeanne came with me, but then she disappeared." Monica shrugged, while Lance grabbed another block of rice. He happily seasoned it when he felt something wrap around his fingers. A damp sensation invaded his senses, while a faint scent of salt water and soap permeated his nostrils. The lips detached from his fingers, leaving a thin trail of saliva running down Lance's skin.
The damp strands remained stuck to his collarbone, slowly moving with their owner. Turning, Lance saw Jeanne wearing a vaguely turquoise shirt that barely covered her black one-piece swimsuit.
"And what's this?!" The girl smiled, under Monica's satisfied gaze and Maliard's astonished one. Lance stood there petrified while the girl stared at him, confused, pointing a finger to her lips. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Hey Lance… Are you okay?" He shot off his stool, slamming into a wall of muscle in a vaguely tight white and blue swimsuit.
"Hey Lance! Just in time!!" Noel grabbed him, immediately setting him upright and shaking off the sand. Hoku appeared from behind, giving him a generous pat on the shoulder. His gaze stopped on the table and a smile formed under the dark glasses.
"You managed to make nigiri properly! Look at that delicate shape." He took a couple, noticing that Jeanne had quickly brushed away twice as many.
"But didn't you call it sushi last time? Did I get something wrong?" The boy recovered, shaking his head.
"No no, don't worry! It's just that there are various types based on shape and ingredients. These don't use seaweed and are boat-shaped. Some don't have rice at all or are served directly in a bowl." Hoku began to explain, pointing his finger upward as if figures should appear.
"But doesn't seaweed live in the sea?!! You eat it?" Monica smiled, opening another nut with white pulp.
"Fish also live in the sea…" Maliard sighed, only to be brutally sent into the sand along with the stool by Monica's punch. He sprang up, hurling her to the water's edge. The nut flew straight onto Noel's head, who, satisfied, began licking the liquid dripping down.
"LET'S NOT GET HEATED NOW!" Hoku whistled, and immediately Arte appeared, dressed in shorts and a little dress full of frills and brown. In her hands she held a ball of intense brown colour, sewn with golden stitches and thread. Noel, as soon as he saw her, coughed.
"Modestly, I took some plants and bark and made a ball. So we can play before we leave!" Hoku nodded, and Arte was already at work tracing lines in the sand and using a net with greenish tones. She approached a tree with a slightly curved trunk and uprooted it entirely.
"ARE WE SURE SHE'S A MAID?!" Lance's dazed gaze followed her as Arte sharpened and planted it, then repeated the process. The net was now held up, dividing two half-fields dug into the sand and filled with pebbles and bark.
"Good! We'll play Pallaria!" Jeanne and Lance stared at Hoku with confused looks before the ball was hurled at them.
"Listen up, you two! The rules are simple. Two players against two players. You have to send the ball into the other half, and if it hits the ground, you score. The ball must go over the net!" Monica smiled at Hoku's words, immediately grabbing Jeanne.
"The teams will be me and Jeanne, Lance and Maliard, and you two! We play to 10 points." Arte whistled, sitting on a tree from which a chair had somehow been carved.
"I'll be the referee!" The girl smiled, crossing her legs and arms.
"But I'm n-not good!" Monica loaded poor Jeanne onto her back and carried her under the referee's chair, while Maliard and Lance entered the field.
"Maliard… I have no idea what to do." The man stretched his long arms, whistling.
"I'm the one who passes you the ball. You have to jump and hit hard. The first serve is free, so go easy. Hit it from below." Lance got into position, lifting the ball to chest height.
"I think we'll win easily this time!" Hoku smiled, hopping under the net. Noel nodded, opening his arms.
"Go!" Arte whistled, and the ball left the boy's grip. His knuckles struck, sending the sphere into the sky. A sinuous shadow was cast on the colourful sand, then a snap. Noel took the ball, lifting it for Hoku. A violent spike whistled through the air, intercepted by Maliard. The ball hovered in the air, just above the net.
"Lance, now!" The boy jumped into the air, finding himself face to face with Noel. His arm moved like a whip, raising a colossal cloud of sand. Once it dissipated, Noel and Hoku found the ball between their feet, trapped in a crater. Lance landed, immediately being slapped on the back by Maliard.
"POINT!" Arte's voice rang out. Maliard smiled again at the two as they grabbed the ball. The match ended fairly quickly, with Lance and Maliard leading by a full seven points over poor Noel and Hoku, lying inert in the sand. Now Jeanne and Monica entered the field. Monica placed a hand on her hip, pointing at Maliard.
"If you lose, don't bother me like usual." Maliard grabbed Lance by the neck, pulling him close to the net.
"Don't worry, I'm more afraid of putting up with your damn tears." Monica smiled, throwing the ball straight into Jeanne's hands. Arte didn't have time to whistle before the ball was already streaking between the two fields. For a moment it seemed almost invisible, the only trace the constant booms. Then Jeanne jumped. Her shirt fluttered around her figure. She whipped the ball, sending it right between Lance's legs. Monica stared intently at Maliard with a grin, while Jeanne looked around.
Her eyes met Lance's, and she too seemed to grin just like her partner.
"Maliard…" Lance immediately grabbed the ball. His eyes turned gold and a faint smile formed on his sand-covered face.
"… Losing now is not an option!" The ball darkened the sun for an instant, casting its shadow on Lance's face.
"We're losing the sense of competition here!" The match continued despite the constant exchange of blows. The score was tied with both teams at nine points each. Suddenly, Jeanne jumped again. The ball was precisely on the line before the snap. Her figure bent, distorting the sphere's silhouette. Maliard's eyes widened, but the ball didn't hit the sand. It hit something else. Lance fell to the ground, stunned, his glasses almost driven into his face. Jeanne brought her hands to her face, falling in turn.
"Well done, Lance!" Maliard jumped up, aiming for the undefended space behind Jeanne. Before the blow could be launched, Monica's hand deflected it.
"You'd like that!" Again the ball bounced, hitting the prone Lance.
"Maybe it's not over yet…" Maliard smiled. The scene repeated about thirty times, each time Jeanne glanced to see if Lance was actually trying to get up. Before Monica could replicate yet another block, Arte whistled.
"I declare a draw by repetition." The maid lowered her arm, smiling amicably.
"Arte, that rule exists in chess!" Noel and Hoku shouted in unison, but were instantly suppressed by the conflict between Maliard and Monica under the net.
"We all know you wouldn't have taken it!" Maliard grabbed her by the neck, bringing her face to face.
"As if I could ignore all your damn court invasions!" Monica clashed her forehead with her brother's, smiling. Lance got up with difficulty, covered in red circular marks all over his body. Jeanne, on the other hand, gently took Monica's arm.
"Come on, I don't think this is the time to fight…" The two tried to dissuade them, but were immediately blasted by Maliard and Monica.
"And what do you two want?!" Without warning, Jeanne and Lance were hurled toward the sea. Jeanne, without notice, tied a small rope around their ankles. A little tug and all four flew into the blue sea. One after another, they shook off the sea foam.
"That's a low blow, Jeanne!!" Monica was the first to get up, feeling something heavy on her shoulders and something slimy on her head.
"You, on the other hand, let me down and get that stuff off your head!" Maliard was now standing on his sister's shoulders, covered in brown and greenish algae.
"L-Lance… L-Let me down…" Now Jeanne was stuck to the paint on Lance's shoulders, who was writhing in the water, tangled in something. Despite the blush on his cheeks, despite the weariness, the sadness of the night, for Lance that morning had created a single, fleeting wish. He burst out laughing, even as the brackish water invaded his palate.
"I wish that next time we can all come here…"

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