Loading
month record rogue 4 7 3
'And thus, Surtr defeated all the creatures opposing her, and became lord of all Terra. How about that?'
'Come on, that's way too fake.'
'And how is that my problem?'
'Now now, no need to get violent. You did take the effort to come up with that for us. The least us old bones could do now is answer your questions.
'You're a Sarkaz who came from the outside. I'm sure you're looking for your true home—
'That bright red hair of yours is hard to forget. Maybe it'll jog our memories.'
Surtr's face is completely impassive.
'What I wanted to ask is if there really is an ice cream furnace here.'
'Huh?'
'A candy and ice cream furnace! Yes or no?'
......
......
Surtr walks out of the furnace angrily, slightly disappointed at both the furnace and herself.
She had gotten into the habit of eating ice cream, even though she hated sweets. And it was all the fault of the one inside her.
As for her home...
In fact, Surtr had found the house in her memories soon after arriving in Kazdel.
The bed was broken, and badly damaged shelves and tables were scattered across the floor.
But there was no mistake. This was the room.
She sat down in the same place she was sitting in her memories. Maybe this really was her home.
It didn't feel like it. Or maybe it did.
It felt like it. Or maybe it didn't.
She was surprised that it failed to elicit any reaction from her at all.
It was no different from any of the other scenes in her memories she had visited.
She never once looked at the photo before she left.
She is more concerned with where she can buy ice cream, where the next stop on her journey will be, and when she will be heading back to Rhodes Island.
She looks around. She rather likes this Kazdel: this unfamiliar vitality, people hurrying around, delivering goods, doing business, bargaining, brawling, getting drunk.
She sees a drunk man lying sprawled out on the ground, babbling unintelligibly, but with a certain rhythm to it.
She walks up to him and kicks him lightly. 'Hey, wake up.'
The drunk man rolls over and ignores her.
'Where do you live? I am sure I could bother a Lich or someone from the Military Commission to help you find your way home.'
'Home? This is my home... Leave me alone! I like sleeping here!'
'Is this your idea of a joke?'
Surtr gets a passerby to help the man and stomps away angrily.
Although on second thought, what he said made a certain sense.
A place you can always return to, no matter how long you have been away. A place that will accept you, no matter what you have become. A place that does not try to bind you to it, but is simply there.
What is that, if not home?
At this, Surtr declares to herself that she will continue her travels. It is more entertaining to seek out good food, and to inflict violence on those who deserve it.
No more searching for the past.
