Song 9

The screen flickered as Tampsen flickered through the menu, looking for Reybu. Maersen grumbled, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Tampsen. “Come on,” he whined like a toddler. “Why is it taking so long to find it? Doesn’t this thing have a filter or something?”

Tampsen nudged Maersen’s side using his elbow, a gentle reminder that his equipment was old and delicate. Some people may not have understood this, but Tampsen did. He knew there was a method behind Maersen's madness. His patience and understanding, even in the face of Maersen's impatience, were a testament to their friendship.

A couple of signatures here, empty boxes in the office, and no one was the wiser to his little collection. Well, there would be an odd rumor about his collection, but he ensured that no one would speak of his little secret.

“Bingo,” He smirked, his eyes shining through his messy black bangs as he spotted the file titled ‘Reybu.’ Maersen’s interest peaked again, his enthusiasm palpable as he sat up straight, sitting on his hands to discourage himself from reaching for the controller and taking charge. “Alright then,” Tampsen hummed as he entered the file, scrolling along the options – ‘world view’, ‘buildings’, ‘relationships’, and people. “What’s your reincarnate's name again?”

Maersen’s cheek puffed out, taking offense at Tampsen’s question. “I already told you it’s Meloria!” He exclaimed.

Tampsen winced, rubbing his ear with his wrist before looking for the name. It was certainly unique enough that he didn’t expect to find many profiles with that name. “Aha,” he tapped the ‘a button, loading Meloria’s profile. The screen presents something like a character sheet a dungeon master would hand out to their group before the first adventure. Tampsen hummed, examining the various qualities of Meloria, and whistled as her image appeared on the screen. “She’s going to be quite the looker,” he said with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Isn’t she just?” Maersen smiled, his cheeks tinted pink as he took in Meloria’s features. The way her hair flowed down her face, her smile that was bright enough to light up the room, her eyes that showed wonder, and yet also showed a sign of giving up. “We need to help her.”

“Yes, but it’s not like I can just increase her ambition,” Tampsen sighed, his fingers idly tapping the buttons without enough strength to change the screen. “I don’t know what exactly you want me to do.”

“Can we really not do some voodoo stuff to influence her to take the next step?” Maersen begged, raising his bum, freeing his hands. “Or maybe she just starts randomly singing and someone hears her, becomes enthralled with her, making her the world's biggest idol.”

Tampsen’s eye twitched, his grip on the controller tightening. “Are you stupid?” He exclaimed, his thumb pressing against the right button. “I cannot risk doing such a thing. It can change the course of her path completed and-”

“Um Tamp?” Maersen pointed to the screen. “Her profile is gone.”

“Damnit,” Tampsen quickly took his finger off the button, sighing heavily. There was no way to know how many profiles he passed Meloria’s; he was. “Hopefully, I didn’t accidentally change anything on her profile. I can’t have management finding out I still have this thing.”

Maersen 's mind had started to block out Tampsen’s words as he looked at the profile in front of him. He leant forward, balancing on his hands as he examined the profile in front of him.

An elderly gentleman who was head of Reybu’s most prestigious school. Looking at the school’s name, he remembered seeing on the walls of the house that Edward’s teaching certificate was from this very school; however, it was the family description that caught his eye. “Say, can you find this Raville’s profile?”

He looked back, and Tampsen, who nodded, went back to the main profile screen and flicked through the names before finding the one Maersen asked for. “Is this the one? There seems to be a few Ravilles in this world, quite the popular name.”

Maersen used his finger to skim along the family description, seeing the name of the head teacher, and nodded. Raville was a child around Meloria’s age, with a well-educated background, “And plays the piano, huh?” He smirked, sitting back on his heels. “He needs to meet Meloria!”

“And how are we doing that?” Tampsen pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out another exasperated sigh. “This kid and Meloria live in completely different counties. There is no way the city boy and the farmer’s girl are going to meet.” He looked back up, seeing Maersen’s mischievous grin.

Maersen hummed, putting a finger to his chin, tapping it as he thought of numerous ideas to get these two to meet. Tampsen changed the world's view, focusing on the home of this esteemed headmaster. His house was truly grand, with a large white marble staircase in the center, leading to the second floor. As the headmaster wandered in, servants surrounded him, as if preparing for a special event.

Maersen moved his finger, making an up gesture to Tampsen, who, in return, turned the volume up, now being able to hear the conversation. “Master Thornewood,” the maid bowed. “The party planner has asked for the guest list for the party.”

Thornewood nodded, looking at the letter in his hand. With a nod and a wave of his hand, he shooed the maid away. “I understand,” he grumbled. “He shall have it by tomorrow morning. I shall be retreating to my office for the rest of the evening. Please ensure that my son has dinner after his piano lesson.”

The maid bowed as Thornewood climbed the lush staircase, turning right to his office, which was situated at the end of the hallway. Upon closing the door, he let out a sigh, running his hand over his face. His gaze wandered over to his wall, where he saw a photo of himself with Edward, shaking hands as they graduated from teaching school together. He walked over, took the picture off the wall, and brought it with him as he sat at the desk.

“Seems like he and Meloria’s father used to be old work friends,” Maersen mused, observing the sadness in Thornewood’s eyes. “I wonder why they don’t speak.”

Tampsen went to open his mouth, thinking of sharing the idea of checking the relationship branches more closely in the profiles, but quickly stopped himself. It would only fuel an unwanted idea from Maersen. He looked back at the screen, watching intently as Thornewood sat down on his chair, the photo in one hand and a list in another.

“Oh my dear friend,” Thornewood sighed, putting the photo down, picking up a pen. The pen was hovering over the list, rolling in between his fingers. Shaking his head after a while, Thornewood put the pen back down, slamming the photo, image side down, onto the desk and left his office.

“Tampsen, zoom into the list,” Maersen asked, his eyes not leaving the screen. He heard Tampsen grumble as he zoomed into the list, seeing the names of everyone who was invited to the party. “What are the rules about adding things onto a list?” Maersen smirked, looking back to Tampsen with an evil gleam in his eyes.

“How good is your penmanship?” Tampsen smirked in return.