act17mini

I was really sad, so I cried and cried at the furnace node in the plaza, because everyone told me the underground pipes connected to it would carry my voice all the way to the great, big Soul Furnace.

Now that I've seen, or heard you, I feel so happy. You really do exist and you've been protecting us and all of Kazdel this whole time and—

Noisy.

Sorry!

Nymph's eyes widen as a shadow slowly seeps out of the shimmering slag. It is barely a wisp, as faint as a cicada's wings, but at least he doesn't sound as angry as before.

Shabby.

You mean our neighborhood? Haha, well, I think it's kinda nice, once you get used to it.

Barely any improvement.

Improvement? Oh, you mean compared to two hundred years ago.

Right... You've been in the Furnace all that time. Maybe this is your first time out.

Nymph stretches out her hand that the slag is resting on, allowing him a clearer view of the plaza. The first view he's had in two hundred years that did not include flames.

See, ancestor revenant sir? This is where we live nowadays.

What's that sound?

Snapstring's singing. That instrument he's holding is cobbled together from scraps. It looks like a guitar, but I don't know what it's actually called.

And the mercenary?

You mean Steelskull? He's had a few drinks, and now he's dancing around his burdenbeast battle buddies.

What of the army?

Uh... Do you mean the Military Commission? Maybe, umm... Do you see that big airship flying overhead? I've heard they're up there.

Rest—

After a long period of silence, that is the only word the slag says. Nymph doesn't quite understand the meaning.

Not too far away, the wandering singer plucks at his instrument and begins to sing a song of farewell, as promised.