1166. Joyful Return to the Nexus
There were millions of species of flowers in the world of Elysia.
Approximately one and a half million of these flowers came from other worlds. For comparison, Earth only housed four hundred thousand unique species of angiosperms.
One could travel across Elysia far and wide, high and low, and would not even discover one hundredth of these flowers. An immortal would become bored with the task. Indeed, even having an infinite amount of time on one’s hand would still never allow them to discover every single flower.
But there was one place where one could find ninety percent of all flowers in Elysia. The Floor of Amalgamation. Hundreds of Healers roamed the floral fields of the Floor of Amalgamation. They busily tied red ribbons onto lampposts and trestles, as others gathered flowers to create wreaths.
Many more plucked fresh fruits straight from the earth and hauled them to the communal kitchen where Ber and her brigade of chefs. From a distance, the long line of Healers carrying baskets of fruits and vegetables on their heads was reminiscent of ants delivering crumbs back to the colony.
The Coronation Ceremony saw the Healers in high spirits.
A pleasant choir filled the open air, melding with the scent of millions of efflorescing flowers just across the crop fields. Further away, past the crops and the garden was the humble town where hundreds of Healers and dozens of Moons called home. Atop a hill where a long, bricked path ran was the manor belonging to the Amalgam and her closest companions.
Beyond that, on the horizon, was the sea. Up north were the ice-capped mountains. One of these mountains had a perfectly circular hole blown through it, no doubt caused by Cer’s antics. Eastward, past the town, were the valleys and meadows where billions more flowers bloomed.
One particular patch of flowers grew the only source of natural-occurring blue forget-me-nots in the Nexus. Of all the flowers in the Floor of Amalgamation, these were the only ones the Healers did not pluck. They were tended to every day, no matter the weather.
Not all Healers knew why they were specifically protected, save for the few who witnessed Cer’s tears. Those tears nurtured the soil of the forget-me-nots, and they were said to become slightly more vibrant whenever Cer was nearby.
Black Wings, Blood Angels, Scarlet Healers, Sanguine Doves, and the few remaining Wandering Healers, like D-13, were present here. The festive atmosphere was hardly brought down by these intimidating faces. In fact, one could find D-13 shaking maracas next to her Wayfarer, albeit she did so with a threatening look.
Among the gathered were Stars of the Nexus and the Iron Stars. The Coronation Ceremony had not yet started, so the Stars and Moons found plenty of time to converse with their peers.
“How envious that the Moons of the Nexus are well looked after by the Head.” An Iron Star commented to a group of Stars who stood by a pale pillar. They were not phased by this question, and neither did they turn to acknowledge the Iron Star.
“Envious in what way? A Star cannot call a singular place home, nor does a Star require the same maintenance of a Moon.” A Star of the Nexus replied, lowering their head to accept a flower wreath from a Healer.
Another continued as they accepted a flower bracelet.
“Refrain from entertaining the felled Star. If a Star requires the presence of another, then that defeats the purpose of a Star. We are not like your kind, nor the Red Giants who rely on a Moon. Else, wouldn’t we be called planets?”
The Iron Star smirked as a Black Moon joined him, offering a bundle of grapes.
“Akin to the olden ones from elsewhere. Jupiter and its Europa. Saturn and its Titan. Elysia is starved of such celestial giant. Such titans oft slumber elsewhere. I suppose it is the nature of a Star to wander. Your calling still revolves around an invisible, insurmountable mass that tend to tether celestial objects into spiraling clusters.”
“They are called galaxies in this era.”
“Are they not constellations either? Asterisms?” The Iron Star hummed.
“Whatever you wish to call it, olden Star.”
A Star sighed before squinting at a pillar that was one centimeter taller than the one it was next to. “Imperfection in the home of the Amalgam? Preposterous. We must inform the Three Heads of Security.”
“Ah, ten millimeters… But what if it is part of the aesthetic?”
“Hoh. I suppose you may be correct in thinking so.”
“The Eye of the Head has not taken issue on the matter. After all, how can such an obvious discrepancy go unnoticed by the perfectionist herself?”
“Indeed. There is intention in the mistake. See how it has caused us to ruminate?”
“Ah! How thoughtful of the Eye of Head.”
“I am at a loss for words.”
The Stars of the Nexus were far more interested in the aesthetics of the Floor of Amalgamation. Somehow, even the Iron Star was wrapped into the conversation as she uttered: “Order in the chaos of entropy. Perhaps that is what she is attempting to convey. Intriguing. The Eye of the Head did not come across as a Glimmer or a Star, yet her art conveys such ambiguous understanding…”
“Mm. So much so that it causes us to question it. Quite masterful.”
The Black Moon, who was still holding a silver platter, tugged onto the chained collar at her neck as she bounced on her toes, trying to see what they were seeing. She was much too short to look over their shoulders, and she didn’t dare to step out of line.
“Bullies.” She mumbled and drew what they were describing on the back of her hand.
Their object of fascination was the stage where the Coronation Ceremony would take place.
In the center of the flower fields was a stone amphitheater. The hills provided an excellent slope to house thousands of attendees, and the stage itself was wide enough to host combat exhibitions.
There were plenty more like these in Jury’s Workshop, but they paled in comparison to the majesty of the one built in the Floor of Amalgamation. Every inch of it seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Encrusted within the pale marble were diamonds. The marble also had a translucent effect, revealing beautiful patterns just beneath the surface as though it were made of ice.
Like most things built on the Floor of Amalgamation, it was partially made from Ignis’ bones. Uniquely, it was also the first structure to be made from Frost’s own body parts which gave it incredibly durability.
Very few knew this, however.
Attending the Coronation Ceremony were the Beholders. They arrived in their usual garbs and hung around the rims of the amphitheater. Knalzark and Umbra were not present. Knalzark’s condition unfortunately made it impossible for him to attend. As for Beholder Umbra, she saw no need to congratulate another peer. Such celebrations were unnecessary.
There was no point in celebrating an event that would inevitably become forgotten.
Beholders had an ill reputation among many within the Nexus. They were know for their brutal methods and uncaring nature. Despite this, few Beholders were frequently flocked to by the Healers.
Galia received her fair share of flower wreaths.
“I’d prefer coffee than hats that will wilt, but I will make an exception today.”
“If they are tiring your arms, then best you offload them to my body.” Beholder E. was the most decorated of the Beholders. Every inch of his chassis was wrapped in countless flower wreaths, to the point where the vat containing his brain was entirely covered.
The Healers had great respect for Beholder E. Surprisingly, it wasn’t just the White Doves. Blood Angels commonly appeared in front of him to exchange words, often asking questions about his body, or if he remembered particular moments in history.
Ragnelle – Jury’s Advisor – approached Beholder E. and offered him a deep bow of respect before leaving a white flower in his metallic palm.
“How many centuries has it been since we last conversed?”
“Ragnelle. You’ve grown spectacularly. Quite a long time ago. It is… four centuries since we first exchanged steel.”
“I remember it well. Back then, you were an Emperor with a blade hanging over your head. Does that ‘E’ still stand for Emperor, or has it changed to Eternal?”
“Neither. It has become a mathematical constant.” He seemed to laugh, despite his lack of inflection or facial expressions.
Behind him, the Star Child, Little Frost and the Fragment of the Captured Star could be seen roaming around the amphitheater. The Star Child pranced over, giving the group a wave before she wrote out a series of numbers next to Beholder E.
“2.71, 8281, 8284, 5904… Darling, it is enough.” Beholder Galia smiled at the Archetype, dismissing her kindly. “A constant is surprising. I’ve yet to hear this from you.”
“Since when do Beholders shared personal secrets? As the once renowned Emperor of Old Atlas, I’ve kept many-a-thing locked in a metal box. I’ve yet to find that key.”
Ragnelle gave him a sorrowful look before it mellowed into a smile.
“Good to see that our machines are still working well. And to think you doubted the kindness of the Witches and our sister Blood Angels.”
“I had my reasons to. When you are a ruler, you assume that every compliment is a blade. You must assume that every gift is a sword hung above your head on a thread. That is why I am largely impressed by the Amalgam’s initiatives… Though I am concerned with how many people she surrounds herself with.”
“She’s surrounded by the same people you surrounded yourself with until recently.”
Beholder. E’s nonexistent eyes moved to the Healers that still gathered around him. One can imagine how birds would rest on the back of a crocodile. He was dangerous, and one wrong move could maim a Healer, or even outright crush them.
Yet they chose to greet him with thankful smiles.
And why wouldn’t they?
Before the Amalgam, the only Atelier that paid any care to the Healers was Justica Arms and Inflow Direct. Specifically, Inflow Direct, because they had existed far longer than Justica Arms…
… Furthermore, it was no secret that Beholder E. had lost nearly his entire body during the Liquidation War against Midas Company in the Frozen Springs. Many Healers were saved that day. But the human that was Beholder E. was reduced to an artificial shell.
“She has better company than I. That is for certain.” Beholder E. concluded, allowing the Healers to climb atop his shoulders. “Young Ignis will be joining our ranks without receiving her book. I believe she will make a fine Beholder.”
“How can you be so certain?” A Healer innocently asked.
In the distance, a brigade of slimes could be seen following a certain red-haired figure. People began gathering around the amphitheater. Another loud sound came from the archway that connected the Floor of Amalgamation to the Upper Sanctums, and Healers squealed at the sight of their mother.
This Healer remained, hoping to get her answer.
“Ah, dear young Healer, history has taught us that rulers are never stable when there is a certain degree of instability or unhappiness. Rulers are fueled by selfishness. It may at first begin out of necessity or out of good intentions. But it will inevitably corrupt them. Power is intoxicating. Rare are rulers who prioritize their people before themselves.”
“Are those same people the ones the Nexus became allied with?”
“Correct.”
“Then Beholder E., was the same for you in the past?”
Beholder E. paused for a while. He struggled to reply to the girl. Afterwards, when the noise started to die down, he spoke in a hushed whisper.
“I tried to. It rarely ended well. People are not static. They are not like Healers nor machines. People… are difficult.”
“… Was it sad?”
Beholder E. – though he had no mouth – let out a strange sound. It sounded like a gasp, or an exasperated sigh, as if he was caught off guard by this question.
He gently placed the Healer down and ushered her away: “Why don’t you go to your mother?”
“Okay! Goodbye, Beholder E.! It was nice seeing the face who saved a lot of us!”
“Goodness…” Beholder E. returned to the others. “Such innocent questions.”
“is it not strange how their sincerity can act as a blade that cuts through even the most stubborn beliefs?” Galia said, amused. “I’ve never heard you make that sound before. Have you kept a few vocal cords?”
“Not enough to explain the sound. I shall have it checked. Until then, I await my turn. Is the ceremony starting?”
“It will be soon. It might start slightly late.” Galia pointed at the crowd forming around Frost. “They’re going to be busy with the new face.”
“The daughter of the Amalgam.”
“Daughter?” Ragnelle’s demeanor instantly shifted when she heard this. “Excuse me? Beholder Jury explicitly told me that she would wait another year at the minimum. Do you mean to tell me that the two copulated!? That Jury…”
A figure was suddenly held in the arms of Jury and hoisted above her head. It was a child that carried her messy hair, skin tone, claws and feathers. That child also had Frost’s colored hair and eyes.
Indeed, that awed child – who couldn’t believe how many people had come to greet her – was Joy.