Parto 3: La Enigmo. 32: La Konfidenco

An entire month. Maybe more. At some point, I lost count of the days I spent staring at that cursed inscription.

Vento ne sonas, silento portas mesaĝon.
Pensu kiel papili, PROFUNDA maro kaŝas.
SES×SES.

Each line had six words, but that didn’t get me anywhere. Substitution ciphers, frequency analysis, rearranging the letters, mathematical grids, numeric sequences… Then, I spent hours comparing the phrasing to Arakil’s riddles, cross-referencing them with entries in their diary. Maybe “wind” and “silence” weren’t literal. Maybe they were symbols.

Desperate, I even tried more esoteric methods, like consulting texts on ancient languages I found in the library. Some looked familiar, like hispana or angla. But there were also some that had symbols instead of letters, araba and japana. Combining them also resulted in failure.

But no matter how I twisted them, the words remained stubbornly opaque.

I looked at my desk. It was a disaster zone: pencils strewn everywhere, pages covered in crossed-out attempts, open books spilling over the edge.

It couldn’t be a puzzle. No. It had to be a stupid riddle. Why did people like riddles, anyway? Instead of having fun with a nice, well-made logical puzzle, they preferred this nonsense.

At the same time the impossible riddle pressed on me, Kanako’s chains broke. Their grounding was over, and they were flitting around La Nesto with renewed energy, as if nothing had happened. I saw them with Gabino and Osiris, their heads bent together, whispering. Just like old times.

One evening they came to my room, grinning as if nothing had happened.

“Medusa,” they said, “want to play some Konektu Ses?”

I looked up from my desk. Play? After months of ignoring me, they just waltzed in and expected me to play?

“No,” I said, my voice flat.

Kanako blinked.

“What? Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

Kanako’s brow furrowed as their gaze shifted to the mess on my desk.

“You’re always busy these days. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I looked back down at my notebook, pretending to be engrossed in my work.

For a moment, they didn’t move. Then, with a quiet sigh, they left. A brief wave of loneliness washed over me, but I quickly suppressed it.

A few days later, a worried Serena came to my room, frowning.

“Medusa,” they said, their voice trembling, “I saw Kanako and Gabino… they were arguing. About a piece of wood.”

My stomach clenched. Kimiti’s message. They had found it.

“What did they say?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“I couldn’t hear much. They were whispering… but they looked upset.” Serena pulled on my shirt. “I think we should go talk to them.”

“No!” I blurted. “No. It’s nothing. Just one of their silly disagreements.”

I offered a reassuring smile that felt hollow even to me.

“Okay…” Serena hesitated, their eyes still filled with concern.

They nodded, then left, but their fidgeting made me uneasy.

I closed the door and looked at the bed, covered in notes, failed attempts at solving Kimiti’s riddle. I felt exhausted.

The image of Kanako and Gabino arguing over Kimiti’s message filled my thoughts. Had they deciphered it? Were they fighting about what it meant? Or were they stuck, just like I was?

The clock was ticking. Every day brought us closer to the end of the term. We had less than two months. Kanako would leave La Nesto in less than two months. We had wasted so much time. What was I even doing? Wasting time on a puzzle that might not even matter?

We could have spent that time together, solving puzzles, exploring La Nesto, being together.

That time was now lost, irretrievable.

If I could only solve it… everything would be fine. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. Tears welled up, and I flung the papers to the floor, collapsing onto the bed.

That night, I cried myself to sleep.

Serena came to my room again the next morning, while I was doodling randomly in my notebook, drawing spirals and geometric shapes, half-hoping that entropy would materialize the answer.

Abrajm was next to them, but they stayed in the doorway while Serena approached me.

“Medusa,” they said, their voice hesitant. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, glancing up from my notebook.

Serena fidgeted with the hem of their sleeve.

“You don’t seem okay. And neither are Kanako, Gabino, or Osiris. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. “No need to worry.”

“But then why can’t we ask them if they’re fine?”

“Because… Because it’s confidential.”

“Confidential?” Serena blinked.

“Exactly. So we can’t ask them, okay?”

Serena nodded, then looked at their hands, held close to their chest. A moment later, they smiled and left, Abrajm hugging them as they came out of the room.

They both looked so innocent, unaware of the troubles of the rest of us. I had used them both. And for what?

I organized my notes and packed them into my bag. I was going to tell Kanako. Everything: the map, the diary, Kimiti’s message. We could solve it together. It didn’t matter that Kanako hadn’t included me. It was Kanako, so maybe there was a good reason for it. Maybe they were trying to protect me. And after I told them, maybe they would understand why I had been acting the way I had. Maybe they would forgive me.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and left my room.

Kanako and Osiris were in the garden, deep in hushed conversation, their faces etched with worry. I nodded to myself. You can do this, Medusa.

But before I could approach, I saw a scene behind them. Serena was talking to their instruisto. Then, they walked towards Kanako. It looked like Serena was trying to stop them, but La Instruisto didn’t stop.

“Kanako!” I shouted.

Kanako turned to me and smiled. I saw a warmth in their eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a look that made me believe, just for a second, that everything could be alright. But then another voice interrupted our moment.

“Please, follow me, both of you,” said La Instruisto behind them, their voice calm but firm.

Kanako and Osiris exchanged a worried glance before obediently following La Instruisto 4-2. The three of them went into Kanako’s room, and the door closed behind them with a soft click.

I stood in the common room, fixated on the closed door.

Serena walked towards me, their head lowered, their shoulders slumped.

“You said it was confidential, so I… I confided in someone…” they said, tears welling in their eyes.

“Confidential means you can’t tell anyone!”

“I… I’m sorry, Medusa,” they mumbled, their voice thick with tears.

I leaned against the wall. It wasn’t Serena’s fault, but mine.

The door of Ĉelo Kvar opened behind us. Gabino stumbled in, confused and breathless.

“What’s going on?” they asked.

I turned to them, tears welling in my own eyes now.

“They’re going to find out! They’re going to find everything!” I said.

“Gabino! I’m sorry!” cried Serena.

Gabino looked even more puzzled.

“Who? Find out what?” Their eyes darting between Serena and me.

“About the secrets! The map! The message! Everything!” I exclaimed, my voice rising in panic. This couldn't be happening.

Gabino’s eyes widened, but then they quickly tried to regain their composure, feigning ignorance. Their eyes kept moving towards Kanako's closed door.

“Huh? What are you talking about, Medusa? I don’t know what you mean,” Gabino said, their voice strained.

“Stop it, Gabino!” We didn’t have time for this. “We need to do something! They’ll find the diary!”

Gabino hesitated for a moment.

“Okay, okay,” they mumbled. “You already know, so it doesn’t matter if I tell you, right?”

They paused, then added quietly.

“I have the diary, though.”