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The Restless

If you are a god

— What will it be, city? — Kiyuri’s dark cherry eyes stared at the canvas.
— City? — Elshe took a step back from the picture, peering at his creation. — I do not know, maybe. Do you want a city?
— Whatever you draw, it turns out that I want it. You only exist in my head, — Kiyuri spread his hands and straightened the blanket.
Elshe already knew about Kiyuri’s idea that everything that happens is the thoughts of the guy, and he came from reality to this world to sort out his head. Not that Kiyuri hid this opinion from everyone, but he did not go into details, but he told all this Elshe. In response to the trust, the mystical artist of Firokami painted in his presence.
Kiyuri was comfortable. Elshe wouldn’t mind if everything that happened was just Kiyuri’s thoughts. But it wasn’t. And soon, very soon, their closeness will move to the level where Kiyuri, if he is really the creator of this reality, will have to prove his «divinity». He will need to find a single thought in his head. With blue eyes.
Which Elshe has been looking for for so long.

Singles by Firoki

Vessels of beauty

Solya Combella caught the crystals on his hand and looked through them at other worlds. The autumn wind whirled the leaves with a gentle rustle. Autumn covered nature with a transparent fairy tale.
The crystal rustle of the wind evoked a thoughtful slumber, everything plunged into a mysterious, light, warm dream.

ХХХХ
Inspector Hastord looked out the window, from the window where his desk stood, he could see the entrance to the famous modeling agency «Oh! Lux. Therefore, the most beautiful girls in the country have always been available to his eyes. In the city, crime was familiar and rare, so Inspector Hastord was enviable, for days on end he could admire the most beautiful creatures without being distracted by work. But for some reason, the inspector looked at the entrance to the agency with ill-concealed dislike. In this agency, every autumn, on the windiest day, a girl disappeared. The Model. Moreover, the one that was chosen as the face of autumn.
The girls disappeared so skillfully and without a trace, there was not even a single clue. They tried to guard, transport, hide the girls, but in the evening the wind rose, and in the morning the girl simply was not there. They tried to guard her, but the girl disappeared in the blink of an eye. It only took a blink.

When the autumn wind blows.

An Ordinary Evening in the City

The Master passed by, looking at no one, heading to “their booth.” Everyone has their own booth. That’s why restaurants and clubs in Firokami are as vast as palaces. Architects perform wonders of ingenuity to make these behemoths look cozy and unimposing.

In Firokami, at the level of the coryphaeus, everyone is special. Everyone in every institution receives special treatment. The staff always knows each person’s “as usual” (everything’s logged in their gadgets), the machines are pre-set. Everything is always ready for everyone, everyone is always expected. Everyone is always welcome.

Another group of masters entered the restaurant and stopped. On the coryphaeus’s handsome face – restrained displeasure. Apparently, they dropped by on their way, hadn’t time to notify, hadn’t time to order. Hadn’t time to click the button on their gadget, and now they have to distract themselves from their affairs and perform an unnecessary social act.

“To the autoroom,” the coryphaeus throws out.

The beautiful slave – beautiful, of course, the unattractive ones are elsewhere, for other connoisseurs – smiles, nods, leads them along. In Firokami, human production is almost zero-waste; there’s a place and purpose for everyone. Even hardened criminals are put to use – serving science. In Firokami, there’s no death penalty – it’s unnecessary in a City where every coryphaeus has the right to justified killing.

The group of coryphaeus enters the auto room – a hall without human waiters, they’ll be served by machines and robots. Apparently, they’ll discuss something important. They enter a common booth, not “their own” for some reason. Presumably, they haven’t decided who initiated the meeting and whose “own” booth to use.

“With recording?” asks the slave.

The coryphaeus nods.

Convenient. If anything, everyone will have proof of the meeting. The recording guarantees the deal’s honesty. Later, when the gentlemen decide, the recording will be erased from the robot’s memory. No, truly erased. No one’s fool enough to risk keeping a recording. Well, there are some, of course. As in any evolving system. Newcomers, quick ones, young ones, foolish ones. Those accustomed to cinematic cruelty outside Firocami, never having seen such cruelty in real life. Those confusing indifference with cruelty. In the world beyond Firocami, no one cares about anyone. Firocami cares. That’s why escaping the City’s attention won’t work.

“Maybe the masters would prefer deaf-mute slaves?” the slave offers again.

The coryphaeus shakes his head. His friend smiles sharply and maliciously.

“Just don’t interfere with us, no surprises, no clever ideas about pleasing us, no ‘I thought you’d like this,’” he warns meaningfully, “as if we’re the only living beings in this restaurant, is it clear?”

The slave smiles obsequiously and nods. The masters sit down, and the slave leaves, closing the door.

It’s his first independent day in the human hall. It would be good if they were satisfied and he kept this job.

Больше неба

More than the sky

“Are you busy?” Alk sent the thought.

“No, come in,” Vadis replied.

Alk found himself in the creator’s study. Vadis’s creation was dressed in a dense Etton shirt, without visible wounds or mutilations just a part of the rough brand mark just slightly peeked from the shirt’s opening.

“You’re not dragging me into something, are you? You didn’t run away?” Vadis asked with deliberate concern.

Alk smiled.

“No. Etton’s on a deal, Firokami is selling some necklaces to the Lumbii for emeralds. And you can see how I’m dressed.”

“Dressed, yes. Huh, Smarty, if you had run away, you’d make it look like everything’s fine, so you wouldn’t stand out as suspicious.”

Alk smirked.

“Thank you. For creating me. I never thought it was possible to feel this much happiness,” Alk said.

Vadis smiled back.

“Well, that’s the point. Everything alive is made — or created — for happiness. Is it allowed, to hug you?”

“You allowed,” Alk said brightly, stepping toward the Creator. “I’m so happy I feel like sharing it with every—”

Alk broke off mid-sentence and froze, pulling back from his father. A familiar sadness flickered in his emerald eyes.

“What now? Did I do something? Fine, go, go away, I’ll say you weren’t here! I don’t need Etton asking later what I did to you, go, go,” Vadis waved him off.

“Not enough. It turns out I’m not happy enough. I want you, Dayni, Tayra — all of you — to be happy. But I’ve always wanted that, no matter how I felt. And now, when I said it, I wanted you to be happy too. If I could, I’d share it. But not with everyone. I don’t think about everyone. I don’t think, ‘I wish everyone were as happy as I am.’ Does that mean I’m not happy enough?”

“No,” Vadis exhaled with relief and continued warmly, “it just means you’re an egocentric, self-absorbed show-off. You’ve always been that way. I don’t see why happiness should have changed you.”

“But all the books say that if you’re overwhelmed with happiness, you want others to feel it too.”

“Ah, that’s for sociopaths,” Vadis said, settling into his chair and pointing at the couch.

Alk sat down as well.

“Happiness makes you social. Those who once felt they didn’t have enough for themselves, when they finally become happy, understand they can give, that they can make the world better. And you’ve always done that. You’ve always seen people. You’ve always made the City better — even without happiness. So you can keep this happiness for yourself. It’s yours. And everyone has their own. You can’t really share your own happiness. It just switch on empathy, the wish for good for others. So, are you happy?”

“More than the sky.”

“That’s enough,” Vadis smiled.

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