Chapter 249: Loss (3)
The wind blew softly across the shore, waves melting into the sand, salt riding the breeze. Gulls called through the sky, and the waves spread infinitely over the Island of the Voice, where the dead and the living lost the memories of themselves. And there, with Sylvia, I walked.
"I have noticed that the island has been expanding day by day," I said.
"... How did you notice that," Sylvia said.
Today’s walk took the place of our lesson, as Sylvia said it was the reward she had wanted.
"But it shouldn't cause any trouble."
"No, it will cause a problem. If the island continues to expand, it may eventually consume the entire continent," I replied.
There were four great problems in the Voice: first, it brought the dead back; second, it swallowed memory whole; third, it followed its own sense of time; and lastly, it had the nature of a wave—always expanding and never-ending.
Of all the Voice’s problems, the most dangerous was its nature as a wave; the demon, desperate to become the world itself, had tried to swallow the continent with its island, and though Sylvia had consumed it whole, the instinct survived.
"I can take care of it."
“No—”
"I really can," Sylvia said, leaning her weight into my shoulder, her cheeks puffed up like balloons.