1169. Gifts of the Amalgam

Ber was the second to be appointed an armament. The Moonlit Scabbard clicked into place as Ber wrapped it around her hips. The skirt made of blades changed its color like a chameleon to better match Ber’s aesthetics. It pulsed several times before glitter began to sparkle along her hair.

“The Moonlit Scabbard. May it protect you from illness.” Frost spoke.

Ber glided a hand along one of the blades, collecting stardust on her fingertips.

“[Moonlit Barrier] and [Lulled Into Goodbye]. I’ve never been one to focus on my defense. It is a shield more than a weapon. Thank you for thinking about me.”

Frost smiled at her as Ber descended from the platform. Once she returned to Cer’s side, Frost summoned the next recipient.

“Res.”

“Yes.”

“This is Uncensored. May you show them the colors of the world they fear to see.”

“I will. There’s too many who are content to remain ignorant of the colors that make up our world. I didn’t get a chance to look at what the blueprint of my heart was. I was afraid a part of me would have still preferred to cover my eyes.”

Res gracefully took the conducting wand, and it suddenly morphed into a paintbrush. The liquid-blood metal allowed it to assume any shape Res desired. Moreover, this weapon also allowed Res to permanently damage targets, as well as use an opponent’s magic against them.

Then, it could also affect the minds of her targets. Res had always played a long-range, supporting role in their group. Rarely did she fight in close combat. This weapon aimed to amend this weakness, and Res was the first to recognize that this had been Frost’s intention.

“We can never be too careful. But weapons like this… I’m frankly shocked they can exist. An amalgamation of Gifts, our blueprints, the Corrupted and yourself. I’ll cherish it.”

An air of wariness came from Res. These weapons were the first of their kind.

The weapons crafted by the Ateliers and ImpulseWorks each had their own strengths and weaknesses. Atelier products for instance levied the power of the Beholder’s Gift, whereas Corrupted Items contained the power of the Corrupted it was harvested from.

Combining them bridged the gap between Atelier Items and Corrupted Items. Res could not find a word to name these newfound weapons. Technically, they were Atelier Items since they were based on the blueprints of their hearts.

But she was inclined to call them something else. The words slipped past her lips in a reverent whisper.

“Gifts of the Amalgam.”

The name could not be more fitting. Indeed, it was miles better than the alternative she had brainstormed earlier, such as ‘Frosted Items’, ‘Nexus Procured Items’ or ‘A-Armaments (Amalgam Armaments), a play on Inflow Direct’s Serum naming scheme.

I still like Frosted Items. Makes it sound cool.

“I cannot tell if you are making a pun or are being serious.”

What makes you think I’m joking?

Frost mentally frowned. She wasn’t joking at all. Frosted Items were at the top of the list of names. But, since she wasn’t a tyrant, she didn’t enforce ‘Frosted Items’ even though it was phonetically superior to Gifts of the Amalgam.

“Ilya.”

“Eh…? I-I mean…?”

Ilya glanced up at her mother for permission. A gentle hand pushed her from behind.

“Go on. Best not keep Frost waiting.”

“Y-yes!”

Ilya’s presence enraptured the amphitheater. She took light, airy steps towards the stage. Each step left a faint trail of white motes of light. A refreshing scent of lavender accompanied her as she passed through the seats.

Her dream-like presence contrasted Frost’s grounded authority. At face value, one would imagine Frost as the evil sister of the two, and Ilya was approaching her to put an end to her tyranny.

Yet they complemented each other.

Frost received her with a fond smile and snapped her fingers. Their voices became dulled in an instant, as though something was absorbing it.

Frost had created a small Isolation Sphere to keep their conversation private.

“Sorry. I should’ve told you earlier.” Frost apologized. “But I thought you’d like the surprise.”

“I-I don’t mind! At all! It’s surprising, yes! I-I’m just shocked that you have something for me!” Ilya was known to become flustered when talking to Frost.

And how couldn’t she? Aside from everything Frost was, she was also the reason why Ilya was able to reunite with her mother.

“Isn’t saving me enough of a gift? You’re treating me like I’m your little sister.” Ilya laughed.

“Aren’t we?” Frost replied with a soft laugh.

“I suppose you’re right. On a technicality. Nav loves that term. Um… but you really didn’t have to.”

There was also an air of familiarity that made them seem like sisters. In fact, Ilya considered Frost to be a sister more than a friend given their origins. Frost wasn’t opposed to this. It was a lot better than having another person consider her a mother.

Ilya awkwardly twisted her foot into the platform and fidgeted with her fingers. The only gifts she ever received were insect husks from her brother, or the false apple she was given to eat. It was a long-standing trauma, and the mere notion of it caused her stomach to churn.

However, that churning was not because she was wary.

Rather, there was excitement.

“Are you ready?”

“S-so soon!? Um… yup. I’m ready! It’s unsightly, isn’t it? I have to act my age.”

“You’re still a child in our eyes. Your competition is a forty-odd year-old Cer” Frost patted her head.

“Got it.”

The isolation sphere dispersed, and Frost snapped her fingers to teleport another coffin into her side. Despite its size, the object she plucked from the compartment was no larger than her hand.

“The Departure from Paradise. Only you will Kane what to do with it when the time comes.”

Frost presented the butterfly hairpick to Ilya. Then, she whispered: “Turn around.”

Ilya melted into Frost’s touch as she felt her fingers comb through her hair. Distant memories of simpler, happier times flooded her with euphoria.

“… brother… used to make my hair.”

“Did he? Never took him to be the kind to tie hairs.”

“He wasn’t good at it. Used to make a mess of my hair. Our retainers would scold me for it… When we were just children.”

“You have me now. Your mother. The Healers. Ask, and they’ll make your hair as many times as you desire.”

Frost finally released her hair. Her head felt abnormally lighter. Her long, elegant hair was tied into a beautiful bun. Pierced within the orb of white hair was the Departure from Paradise.

Ilya reached behind to touch it. Her heart fluttered as though there were butterflies flying inside of her chest.

“I’ll try to ask them for help from time to time. Wouldn’t want to bother them.”

“They’re more likely to bother you about it.”

With that said, Ilya returned to her mother’s side. She twirled on her heels to give Michaela a better look at her hair. She received a warm smile.

Needless to say, even if Ilya was covered from head to toe in mud, Michaela would still smile. A gem was a gem regardless of whether it was embedded in stone or smothered in filth. It did not detract from its inherent value, though, it would be wrong to compare a human life to a mere gemstone.

“Snap.”

“BBBBBZZZZZZTTTT!?!?!?”

Snap’s two front legs shot upwards, revealing its position in the audience.

It bounced onto its legs, revealing fifteen pairs of blue eyes on its back. From a distance, Snap resembled a mother spider ferrying its children. These figures were Healers. Because Snap’s back was a precious commodity among the Healers, they had to hold raffles to decide who could ride on Snap’s back on a given day.

Suffice it to say that these were the winners of said raffle. A fuss had kicked up because of the raffle. Frost had many ears and eyes in the Nexus, and according to her sources, the incident nearly caused a sudden increase in Black Wings.

The Healers descended from Snap’s back like loose dandruff. Snap wasn’t used to being the center of attention. At least not formally. They were mostly relegated to the sides to capture photos and to record events.

They made their way down the audience seats and then approached Frost. It lowered its head with a submissive buzzing sound before holding out its two front legs to receive its gift. Snap must have expected a weapon, because it made a surprised buzzing noise when a blanket-like coat was draped along its back.

“Bzzzzt!?”

“The Veil of Radiance. You won’t have to always rely on your speed to run away. It also has a pocket dimension compartment if you wish to ferry a few more Healers.”

“Zzzzzttt!”

Frost couldn’t tell if Snap or the Healers were more thankful for the gift. Many eyes gleamed in the audience seats. For a moment, one had to wonder if these Healers were innocent at all.

Competition to ride Snap would be fierce moving forward.