Story Reader / Affection / Liv: Limpidity / Story
Day by day, time flowed on, and day by day, the wind grew bolder and wilder.
The air turned crisp, the grasses faded from green to gold. Autumn had settled over the land, and winter drew near.
Once more, the maiden gifted particles of her own light to kindle life anew, then sank gently onto the fading grass.
The little gray raven fluttered about her anxiously, but could do nothing to help.
Do not blame yourself, my little gray raven... Your company alone is a comfort to me.
Maybe this was not how it should be, thought the little gray raven.
In another world somewhere, it would have wings broad enough to wrap around the maiden, to shield her from the biting gales.
In another world somewhere, it would have gentle hands, like hers, to wipe the tears from her eyes and paint a smile upon her face.
Perhaps it was in a distant past, or perhaps in a future far, far away.
That world would not be so harsh, so lonely as this.
Why... do I remain here?
Because I'm still waiting...
Hmm... I can't remember anymore... It's been so long... so very long...
A soft mist of confusion clouded the maiden's gaze.
Maybe I stayed for these scattered pages... worried these wounded little ones would never find their way home.
The wind grows colder... little gray raven, you should fly home now, before it sweeps you too far away.
The little gray raven echoed her words, answering with feigned solemnity. It circled around her, refusing to leave her side.
The little gray raven circled around her in silence, refusing to leave her side.
...Oh, you silly thing.
Come then... let me hold you close, that we may keep each other warm.
——The Maiden of Eden IV——
Wind...
A wind far too brisk for early morning whispers beside your ears.
Good morning, [player name].
A soft touch caresses your cheek...
What were you dreaming about? You look like you want to drift back to sleep.
Sunlight streams into the room as Liv gently wipes your face with a warm towel.
Let me take care of it. We should hurry. I have something I want to do with you today.
She seems to be in high spirits, humming a cheerful little tune.
Ah... lying back down again, are we?
In a flash, she catches you back into her arms and continues gently dabbing your face with the towel.
No sleeping in today! We should hurry. I have something I want to do with you.
We've arrived.
A gray aircraft has also "arrived" at your destination.
You rub the sleep from your eyes, struggling to piece together the situation before you.
In a drowsy stupor, you washed up, got dressed, were practically fed an overly generous breakfast...
...and then led to this nearby hillside—all while barely conscious.
And the "mastermind" behind it all is none other than the girl now smiling at you with sparkling eyes.
The wind is rising... Can you feel it?
She turns slightly, gazing at the vast sea of clouds behind her, where a lone windmill stands tall against the sky like a solitary deity.
Humidity and heat cling to your clothes as the sunlight blazes almost too bright to bear. For one beautifully hazy moment, the entire scene freezes, as if captured on a single frame of film.
Then, a powerful gust of wind sweeps through.
Bathed in the rushing air, the girl seems to shimmer, as though at any moment she might drift away with the wind and dissolve into the distant sky.
Hmm? What is it?
"I felt like... the wind might carry you away." ...There's no way you could actually say something that cheesy out loud.
I want you to come fly with me. In the aircraft my mom left here.
Well... we've looked everywhere at home, and my secret base, and through all of Mom's old books, but I still haven't found it.
The town library might have a copy, but that can wait.
The wind is just right today, perfect for two people to fly. If we don't go now, we might miss our chance!
She gently tightens her grip on your hand. Behind the mist in her eyes lies a heartfelt sincerity, unmistakable and true.
So... shall we? Please?
It's rare to see you so excited about something... How could I say no to that?
She excitedly grabs your hand and pulls you toward Gray Wing.
Together, you push down on the pedals, and the craft surges up the hillside.
—It takes off.
But contrary to all your hopes, it doesn't soar. Instead, it barely climbs, skimming the grass before lurching over the cliff's edge.
You're now airborne above the sea surface, but just barely. Gray Wing wobbles drunkenly through the air, threatening to plunge into the waves below at any second.
Yes, but just barely. The wind's still not strong enough today. We're almost entirely on pedal power now...
Don't worry, Commandant. Constructs are much stronger than humans. Just relax and leave this to me.
The thought of Liv facing this alone is unthinkable. It fuels you, and you drive your feet against the pedals with a desperate, newfound strength. Your exoskeleton whines in protest, its servos humming with a dangerous heat as it forces energy into your burning muscles.
And then, a miracle—Gray Wing answers. The faltering craft bucks, then surges upward, climbing steadily as if lifted by your burst of force.
Liv is right. Even with your exoskeleton, human strength is nothing compared to a Construct's. You might as well let her handle everything.
The moment you stop pedaling, a miracle happens. The aircraft starts climbing higher and higher...
Phew... Looks like we caught an updraft. We can rest for a bit now.
If only the wind were stronger today... Gray Wing is built to climb higher as the wind grows stronger.
I'm not actually sure... This is my first time flying it, to be honest.
But this aircraft did survive a category 10 windstorm once.
My mom came from a family of pilots. This was part of her dowry when she moved south to marry my dad.
But she wasn't feeling well enough to fly, so Dad kept it in the yard. That way, she could still come sit inside whenever she had a moment.
When I was little, she'd tell me stories right here in this cockpit. I'd be sitting exactly where I am now.
Well... yes. But that's not the only reason...
For some reason, her cheeks are flushed bright red. She seems to be straining, though her feet aren't even on the pedals.
You should be riding an updraft. There's no reason for any exertion...
Without warning, the steady cabin lurches violently. Liv stumbles and collapses back into her seat. You stomp on the pedals, one hand flying out to catch her.
Mmph!
Your fingers touch a body gone completely limp. Despite no battle, she's in a state of total exhaustion.
I wasn't! It's... it's just that the updraft suddenly dropped!
Gray Wing drifts aimlessly, wobbly as the girl's confused emotions. You fight to adjust its course, wrestling it toward the shoreline.
Thud. Mid-flight, something tumbles from a shadowed corner.
A thick book? You barely glimpse its cover before you crash onto the shallow shore in a staggering landing.
After the brief, jarring flight, you and Liv finally push Gray Wing out of the shallow shore.
Umm... even if we used my frame's lifting power to fly instead...
It's not that, exactly... It just feels different from soaring with the wind...
Now, for reasons she hasn't shared, Liv seems utterly determined to handle the flight using nothing but the raw power of nature itself.
Remember? Gray Wing is built to climb higher as the wind grows stronger.
That's right. It really does prefer constant, strong winds.
But today the wind suddenly died down.
If we miss this chance, we might not get another day with winds this strong our entire vacation.
Who knows when the next chance will be? Without a good gust, Gray Wing might not even get off the ground.
And if it can't fly... then we won't get the...
Then we won't get the God of Wind's blessing...
My mom said... according to legend, if you soar through the winds with someone you love, the God of Wind will bless you to be together for a lifetime.
But... I really do believe in them.
I believe that stories like those are truly happening, somewhere in the world.
Liv stares at the ground, scuffing her foot through the sand. Absorbed in her frustration over the failed flight, she refuses to lift her flushed face.
Hoping to comfort her, you produce the book that had tumbled from the cabin. You present it with a flourish, like a magic trick.
Oh... is this a fairy tale book?
It might be from when my mother sat with me in Gray Wing and read me stories!
Her eyes light up. She takes the book with delight, her previous disappointment replaced by rapt concentration.
Fifteen minutes later, she finally looks up, her expression now unreadably complex.
No... it's not this one, either.
But it's okay. I still like these stories... You know, most of them start out so sad, but they always find a way to end happily. I guess that was just the author's style.
Tilmin Kj{195|166}reste... Liv...
Tilmin Kj{195|166}reste Liv. That's the author's name.
Fairy tales by Liv... for Liv? You exchange a glance, mutual shock giving way to profound bewilderment.
This "Liv" must be the one who wrote that story.
It's all coming back to me. The stories, the pictures... Not only did I hear these stories from my mother, but the illustrations look so familiar too... I feel like I've seen them somewhere before.
Actually... I think it was seeing a painting like this that made me remember the story in the first place... But it was just recently...
The painting that once left Liv so entranced suddenly flashes through your mind.
Yes! That's the one. Now, we just need to find out the illustrator's name...
Together, you anxiously flip through the pages until you find the name at last—
Vimine.
