The Art of Gold Digging

Ch.46— A Familiar Voice

Both Crow and Amy just stared at each other silently… Or at least it seemed that way since Crow's eyes didn't really seem to be on Amy, only pointed in her direction.It was unsettling to say the least; being gazed at fixedly by a very depressed-looking boy who, to make matters worse, was missing an entire arm and was surrounded by traces of shining crimson blood from the ritual they had performed was truly an awkward experience.

Amy shifted her weight and squeezed her satchel strap, while at the same time pursing her lips. How long was this supposed to go on…? Should she speak, or wait a bit more?

Recalling the words Lyra had told her about being careful towards Crow, Amy eventually decided to wait a bit more. Yet still, no matter how much she waited, he simply did not speak.

Her legs were starting to get tired, and so was her patience. This was a waste of time.

What was she supposed to say? Ask him how he was feeling? Obviously terrible. Ask if he was okay? Clearly not, his single arm was more than enough proof.

Genuinely, what should she do? He was the one who wanted to talk with her in the first place, so why didn't he just…talk…?

The silence stretched longer, becoming almost suffocating. Amy wondered if she should just bluntly ask him what it was he wanted. But she decided to just wait a bit more. Similarly to how a gambler couldn't quit with a clear conscience after a streak of losses, Amy couldn't just quit after spending so much time in this waiting game.

Luckily, her patience was rewarded right after making up her mind as Crow's lips finally moved.

Just this sole action made Amy dread what would come out of his mouth; she truly wished it wasn't another problem.

"The ritual," he began talking with a raspy, low voice. Amy had to concentrate to simply hear what he said because of how quiet he talked. "The one connecting me to the barrier. Lyra explained it to me."

"Right." Amy nodded absentmindedly.

"It'll kill me if someone destroys the barrier, right?"

"Yeah..." Amy nodded once again, this time with a bit more hesitation; she felt a tiny bit of remorse over his predicament.

Sure, Crow had said that he owed her one for helping with Building B, and she had rationalized this was the moment to make up for it, yet using him like this still felt…bad. A necessary endeavor, yet still very shi—

The intrusive thought was so sudden that Amy didn't even have time to reflect on it. She could only frown and bite her lip with strength at the words that had popped into her mind from nowhere.

"And that's to stop my father? Me being connected to the barrier, I mean."

Amy's jaw tightened as she refocused her attention on the boy on the ground. "Yeah," she muttered.

"Because he can control the chaos creatures?" Crow inquired.

"Yeah."

Crow's eyes closed slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was even flatter than before. "So I'm kind of both the bait and the shield."

Amy felt something twist in her chest, but it disappeared almost immediately as she reasoned it was the best option. "Essentially, yes."

"I see."

The silence returned, heavier than before. Amy once again shifted her weight from one leg to another. She hated so much silence like this; it left so much room to think, and the last thing she wanted right now was to think.

"How much did you know about him?" Crow asked suddenly, taking Amy somewhat by surprise.

Amy blinked. "About who?" She asked with a tilt of her head.

"My father." Crow's voice was still flat, yet an almost imperceptible bite of his lip showed that he was trying to keep his emotion in check. "Abaddon. How much did you know?"

Amy's hand tightened on her satchel as she processed the question. She could lie. Should lie, probably; if she couldn't come up with reasonable explanations of her mysterious, seemingly never-ending knowledge, the readers might start resenting her. The smart choice would be to just say she didn't know.

And yet…she didn't want to. Hadn't she lied enough…? Iris left it very clear when she confronted Amy before the swarm separated them. Amy's lies would eventually catch up to her.

Even if she couldn't straight up mention the manga, she at least wanted to be a bit truthful with these questions…

"I knew his identity," Amy said after a pause, her words coming slowly as she chose them carefully. "That he was your father. But I didn't know he would be here. I had no idea."

Crow didn't respond immediately. His gaze stayed fixed on nothing, seemingly processing her words.

Then, without warning, he shifted. His remaining hand braced against the obsidian floor, and he pushed himself up slightly, just enough to lean his back against the door. The movement made the ritual lines across his skin pulse brighter for a moment before settling back to their steady rhythm of a heartbeat.

He tilted his head back against the door, staring at the ceiling now instead of the void.

"Everything I've ever done," he suddenly said, his voice still that same flat monotone, "was to find him."

Amy didn't reply. She wasn't sure what to say.

"Leaving the orphanage. Entering the academy. Coming here..." He trailed off. "There was this pull. This faint pulse in the back of my head always pushing me forward. Telling me where to go, what to do next. I liked to think it was fate guiding me toward him."

His head lowered slightly.

"I don't feel it anymore."

Crow's remaining arm came up, wrapping around his knees as he pulled them closer to his chest. His head dropped forward until his forehead rested against his kneecaps.

Amy watched the movement, her chest tightening inexplicably. She opened her mouth, though she had no idea what she was going to say—

That's when she noticed it.

A small dark spot on the obsidian floor, just beneath where Crow's head was bowed. Then another. And another.

Water drops.

Amy's eyes widened as realization hit: he was crying.

But his voice when he spoke again was still completely neutral, still that same flat, emotionless tone with which he had started the conversation.

"If his words are to be taken at face value, he orchestrated everything," Crow said quietly. "My entire life. Every bad thing that happened to me, every moment of pain, every loss—it was all him. All planned." A pause. "To feed my ability."

Amy felt her breath catch, and a frown appeared on her face. Despite everything that Abaddon had done and her feelings towards him, he, in a very abstract way, was also a victim of the Goddess, just like her. That thing had manipulated the entire world just for her little, stupid grimdark story to play out.

Amy felt hatred for Abaddon, of course, but she also felt kind of sour about the whole thing.

"I haven't had much time to think about it," Crow continued, his forehead still pressed against his knees, more drops falling to the floor, "but he said that my ability gets stronger the more I suffer… So he made sure I experienced a lot of it."

His shoulders trembled once, but his voice remained eerily steady.

"The people who took care of me abandoned me. The hunger. The beatings. Being alone. All of it..." He let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it had any humor in it. "All of it was probably caused by the person I've been searching for my entire life..."

Amy's hands had gone numb. She stared at the boy curled against the door, at the water drops still falling steadily despite his voice betraying nothing.

"This isn't fair," Crow whispered, and for the first time, there was the barest hint of something in his tone: exhaustion. "This isn't fair…"

Amy tried to move. Tried to say something, do something. But her body had locked up completely, her mind blank.

She was frozen.

And then, movement from her peripheral vision.

Lyra appeared—Amy hadn't even noticed her approach. The auburn-haired girl moved past Amy without a word and, without hesitation, dropped to her knees beside Crow.

Her arms wrapped around him immediately, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Crow didn't resist. He just let his head fall against her shoulder as the tears continued to fall silently.

Lyra didn't say anything. She just held him tightly, with one hand moving to cradle the back of his head while the other pressed against his back.

Amy stood there, watching. Feeling a slight disconnect from everything. It was weird, just one second ago she almost felt bad for him, and the next that feeling had disappeared before she could even begin to dwell on it.

She should leave. Give them privacy. This wasn't something she needed to witness.

But her feet wouldn't move.

So she just stood there, frozen, watching Lyra hold Crow together while he fell apart in complete silence.

The silence stretched on. Amy remained still, watching Lyra hold Crow as his shoulders continued to tremble, the tears falling without sound.

Then, slowly, Crow's remaining hand moved. It came up and gently patted Lyra's back twice.

Lyra pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face with concern. Crow's expression was still blank, but he gave her a small nod.

The unspoken message was clear enough. Lyra hesitated for a moment longer before releasing him, though she stayed close, kneeling beside him.

Crow's gaze shifted back to Amy. His eyes were red-rimmed, wet, but his voice when he spoke was steady again. "Sorry about that."

"Don't—" Amy started, then stopped. Her throat felt tight. "You don't need to apologize."

"Right." Crow nodded mechanically. He wiped at his face with his remaining hand, then leaned back against the door. "Either way, the reason I wanted to talk to you… it's about my artifact," Crow said simply. "Bloodedge. I want you to take it. Temporarily."

The words hung in the air.

Amy stared at him, processing what he'd just said. Then her brain caught up. "Wait, what?"

"In my current condition, I can't use it properly." Crow gestured vaguely at his missing arm, at the ritual marks covering his body. "And with everything that's coming... you'll need every advantage you can get."

Amy's mind raced. She glanced at Lyra, whose expression had shifted to something between surprise and concern.

"Crow," Lyra said carefully, "are you sure about this? Your artifact is—"

"I'm sure," Crow interrupted gently. He looked back at Amy. "You're the one who's going to be moving around, fighting, making decisions. I'm... stuck here." His lips quirked in something that might have been a smile, but didn't quite make it. "Might as well make myself useful in other ways."

Amy opened her mouth, then closed it. Her fingers tightened on her satchel strap. "Why me specifically?" she finally managed. "Iris is stronger in direct combat. Lain's magic is more versatile. Ash—"

"Can't use it," Crow said flatly.

Amy's brow furrowed, and her head tilted slightly.

"None of them can," Crow clarified. "Not Iris, not Lain, not Ash. Not even Zayd, probably." He paused, then added, "Neither can you, Lyra."

Lyra looked confused at Crow's words while alternating between him and Amy, probably trying to understand what made Amy different from them.

"Artifacts aren't like normal weapons." Crow continued his explanation without missing a beat. "Some even have wills of their own, and with those special cases, you can't just pick them up and swing them around. You have to be able to communicate with them."

The word 'communicate' made Amy's stomach drop slightly. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

Beside Crow, Lyra's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, Bloodedge is...?"

"Sentient," Crow confirmed, still looking at Amy. "Yes. I hadn't mentioned it before because..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter now. The point is, Bloodedge can talk. And Amy can hear it, just like she can hear her book."

Amy felt her pulse quicken. She'd known this, of course—the manga had made it clear that Bloodedge was sentient, had its own personality, its own agenda even. But Crow telling her directly was different.

Ignoring the fact that he had never told anyone, there was also the implication of telling her while giving her the weapon: Crow had misunderstood something.

"You think I can communicate with it…?" Amy said slowly, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"I think you're the only one here who can," Crow replied. "Your book is sentient, too, right? You talk to them. I've seen you multiple times doing it. That kind of connection..." He trailed off, then added more quietly, "If you can with one, then you probably can connect with others...probably."

Amy's mind was spinning. She shouldn't be able to communicate with artifacts; that had been Libris's thing, their unique trait.

Crow had misunderstood her as someone with a special trait like his.

Great. Now what. Should she tell him the truth or…

A sudden thought popped in Amy's brain, making her stop. Was Crow actually wrong…?

Amy was now basically a character in the manga Quest for Avalon, so obviously, she worked under the current rules of this world. What if the readers had reached the same conclusion as Crow—

[So. You're the one.]

Amy's entire body went rigid.

A voice that sounded familiar and completely foreign at the same time.

If it wasn't because she had seen Crow summon the weapon at this very instant, she would have failed completely to stand upright. The voice had hit Amy just that hard, almost like a physical blow.

[So. You're the one.]

It came from the same place Libris's voice always had—that space in the back of her mind that wasn't quite thought, wasn't quite sound—but Libris's voice had always been warm and reassuring… this one was different, like the one from an old man.

Amy's entire body locked up. Her breathing stuttered for just a fraction of a second before she forced it back under control.

Her face remained carefully neutral, but inside, her mind was screaming.

Crow was still talking, explaining something about how the artifact worked, the proper way to channel mana through it. Amy heard the words, memorized them even, but they didn't register.

[The girl who carries the Book of Revelations. The one who stands at the crossroads of destiny itself. How... fitting. MuHAHAHA. A fitting replacement for the bird human.]

Amy's jaw tightened imperceptibly.

"—which is why you'll need to be careful when you first channel through it," Crow was saying. "Bloodedge can be very picky about the quantity of mana it is willing to receive at once."

[Picky???] the voice scoffed in her mind. [What an inadequate description. I am SELECTIVE. I am DISCERNING. I do not allow just any filth to—]

"Wait," Lyra's voice cut through both Crow's explanation and the internal monologue. "You never told me Bloodedge was sentient."

Amy's eyes snapped to Lyra, grateful for the distraction from the voice in her head.

Crow's expression flickered with something—guilt, maybe? "I... it never came up."

"Never came up?" Lyra's voice became a bit vulnerable. "Crow, we've been traveling together for how long now? And you never thought to mention that your weapon has a consciousness?"

"It's not exactly something I advertise," Crow said quietly.

"But I'm not just—" Lyra stopped herself, her cheeks flushing slightly. "We're friends. You could have told me."

[Oh, how touching. The devoted healer, wounded by secrets kept. How deliciously tragic.]

Amy's breathing was getting faster. She tried to slow it down, tried to focus on anything else, but the voice wouldn't stop.

[And you, wielder-to-be. Can you feel it? The weight of destiny pressing down upon your shoulders? The burden of—]

"—and that's why I think it's important for you to—" Crow was still talking.

Lyra had moved closer to him, her expression hurt and confused. "I just don't understand why you—"

[The MAGNITUDE of what approaches! The INEVITABILITY of—]

Amy's hands were trembling now, subtle enough that maybe they wouldn't notice, but she could feel it spreading up her arms. She didn't know if it was out of overstimulation or anger.

Libris was sleeping. Damaged. Not completely gone but functionally so. And now there was this new voice, this stranger in her head, talking and talking. Almost like it was replacing them.

It made her feel sick.

"—which is why I wanted to make sure you understood before—"

[—for I have SEEN the tapestry of fate itself, and your thread burns BRIGHTER than—]

"Is that all?"

The words came out sharper than Amy intended. Both Crow and Lyra stopped mid-conversation, turning to look at her.

Amy, feeling self-conscious, forced her expression into something that resembled normalcy. "I mean... is there anything else? About the artifact? How to use it?"

Crow blinked, clearly caught off guard by the abrupt question. "I... well, there's more I could explain, but the basics are—"

"Good. That's enough." Amy held out her hand, her voice flat. "I need to rest. Recover my energy. I'll... I'll figure out the rest later."

Lyra frowned, concern flickering across her features. "Amy, are you—"

"I'm fine." The lie came automatically. "Just tired. The trial took more out of me than I expected."

[Tired. Yes, I can sense it. The exhaustion. The fractures in your soul. Ohhhh dear, how tired I am myself from this eternity of solitude and—]

Crow's gaze searched Amy's face. For a moment, Amy thought he might press, but then he just nodded slowly and extended the weapon toward her.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Just... be careful with it. Bloodedge can be very irritating, especially at first."

[GASP!!!! How dare you!!!]

Amy took the weapon quickly, wanting to be done with it all. The moment her fingers closed around the hilt—

"Thanks," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her steps controlled despite the emotions swirling in her head.

She truly needed a rest.