A Thousand Thousand Years

[E-001] "Oh, you’re here an hour early again. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you into the lab outside work hours, even if you work directly under Madame Loghrif. Your clearance is still Level 1," the guard said with an apologetic shrug.

"That’s fine. I’ll just wait outside." (-__-)

I settled beneath the nearby trees, trying to recall what kind of experiments we were meant to conduct today. I am an intern at the Chthonic Horns, a modest research facility in Elpis renowned for its innovations in terrestrial creations. Here, unlike most others, we do not rely on creation magicks. Instead, we use “natural methods”, a research philosophy pioneered by Loghrif.

The name Loghrif is not a personal name at all but a title: Loghrif the Pastor. It is one of the exalted seats of the Convocation of Fourteen, the august body that governs our world, Etheirys. The current Loghrif is a prodigy unmatched since Lahabrea himself, the greatest mind ever to grace the field of creation magicks.

Her real name is Gaia. Of course, I would never dare address her by it… Though we were friends once, back in the Akadaemia. She was three years my senior, but looking at our stations now, the gulf between us seems immeasurable.

Brilliance isn’t the first word one might associate with Gaia upon first sight. How to describe her? Hair as black and endless as the night sky, eyes alight with passion yet shadowed by an unfathomable mystery, and skin pale as flawless ivory. She carries herself with a grace so complete she seems less a mortal scholar than a goddess disguised among us.

UGHHHH! I sound like a complete simp. I sound like that annoying girl, Artemis.

I forced myself back to the matter at hand. Our research. Loghrif’s vision is the creation of more resilient animals. She insists that harsher times are approaching, though I remain unconvinced. The trinity of Lahabrea, Emet-Selch, and Azem has ever led us true, not to mention Elidibus, the prodigy even younger than Loghrif herself. What do I know, though? I am but a small intern, slaving away in this small facility… Perhaps, in a thousand thousand years, I too might be deemed worthy of one of those seats.

Flipping through my notes, I found myself staring at the page marked Project Belias: a proposed breed of rams resistant to extreme heat. Loghrif had assigned me to this work because of my star-sign: I was born under the Ram.

"Ryla~~~!!!" ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

A familiar voice called out.

I jolted awake. It had been a dream, but so vivid, it lingered like truth.