“It’s amazing what mana can do,” Bianca said in front, “Craft it, shape it, harden it; and you get all these trees and surroundings digitized into the real world with solidarity. The one thing I can give humans is their ingenuity, and the one thing I’ll take away from us elves is our short-sightedness and propensity to stick to traditions.”

Rose listened as the woman who loved to talk finished.

“It’s no wonder we lost the war so soundly,” Bianca muttered, staring at nothing in particular. “The versatility of technology is a hard thing to rival, even by true magic.”

Rose listened attentively yet a part of her wondered, ‘Does she just love talking?’ This was the first person she met who talked to such an absurd degree. Sometimes it sounded important, other times it seemed she was either flexing her skills or simply looking for something to keep her mind busy. Maybe she didn’t like the quietness as much as Rose enjoyed it.

“Oh don’t mind me.” Bianca laughed and waved her hand. “I’m just ranting a bit.”

“At Least you’re aware. . .” Rose muttered as a wry smile was thrown her way.

They walked and she followed her creator leftward until they came upon a garden amidst the already luscious world of colors around them. It was surrounded on all sides by four limestone pillars with an overhead of the same color. There was a circular table with four chairs and, there, a man of chest-nut golden hair sat, dressed in one of those simpler for-comfort suits with a white vest. In his grasp was a tablet but his golden eyes smoothly left the screen and rolled over them.

“Welcome back, Bianca,” He said with the faintest smile then glanced at Rose. “And you. . .?”

Behind him, Rose locked ayes with an expressionless beauty. A female of the same height as herself, though spotting a maid dress with bundled hair of platinum, and eyes as deep as the blue of the ocean.

‘She’s. . .not human?’ Rose immediately understood as both girls studied the other.

She. No. It was not a homunculus. It was something else entirely. Artificial as well, but different. It was an android, skin reflecting the light of the fake sun up high. Eyes like glass. And a perpetual expressionless face that looked as if it wasn’t made to twitch with life. Indeed, just like Rose, it was artificial, but it was a robot. A lifeform of metal.

“Welcome, Ms. Blake,” A voice void of emotion drifted out of the lips of the beauty as a smile, an actual one, pulled her face back and her eyes squinted just slightly enough to give the image of an everyday girl.

‘So she can make expressions. . .’ Rose realized the girl seemed even more alive than the soft-spoken, perpetually blank slated, dragonian she knew.

Bianca nodded at the android, then looked to the man.

“Thomas, this is Rose. Rose, this is Thomas,” She said then pulled a chair out and sat, “Could you be so kind as to let me and her have a little chat, privately?”

The man narrowed his eyes at her as Rose etched his name into her memory.

“Alright,” He shrugged and stood, “I don’t see why not. Come, Vera, let’s leave them to their bidding.”

“Certainly, Master.”

And, just so, Rose watched his departure as she took a seat across from her creator.

For a moment, the world blurred.

For a moment, Rose saw a short-haired Bianca before her, appearing like a teenager as she smiled in glee. Though she was dressed in armor segments of metal, and covered in the crimson of blood, the girl looked up to her and smiled.

Her hand reached out and she patted the head that belonged to that innocent face.

“Goodjob,” Her mouth moved without her input with a soft chuckle, “Killing a Thunderbird? You’re catching up fast, eh?”

The little girl pouted, however, “Humph, you’re just being nice.”

‘And you’re just hiding your happiness at being praised,’ Rose’s laughter echoed as the world blurred back to focus.

The homunculus groaned, blinking her eyes, and staring at the creator seated across from her, about the short, circular, table.

“Well then,” Bianca stated, reaching out and grabbing an unfinished cup of coffee and moving it along with its tray to her. She took a sip, shook her head with a mumble of displeasure, yet took a sip again before setting it down.

The cup clinked onto its tray and she stared back, golden hair waved with the wind, and her eyes focused onto the person before her. She remunerated in her mind, momentarily, Rose thought she must have. But, what came out of her creator’s mouth, must have been a result of needing to get things over with, that, or simply her personality.

“Alright, Rose, I created you,” Bianca said, “To be specific, I revived you, bringing you back to life.”

Of course, Rose could understand that much. In a way, all homunculi were dead beings brought back alive. So that wasn’t surprising. Yet, the woman named Bianca—who Rose was now assured was the one her second self, with memories not of her own, had spoken of—surely meant something else.

“I can understand that much,” Rose replied, “You did, after all, give me some semblance of an understanding of what I am, didn’t you? In turn, you also gave me some skill with homunculi, which I am grateful for.”

The Silent Witch took the previous cup of the man to her lips, sipped, and exhaled a breath before suddenly speaking once more with narrowed eyes.

“You’re my older sister, Rose. I revived you and made sure you could stand before me right now. Though, I suppose you’re yet to be complete.”

Rose tilted her head. The hum of her core calming her to a familiar extreme. It was more of a regulation at this point, that was how innate that skill of hers, to flow with her thoughts, her data, until she calmed. She narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t quite understand. You brought me here to explain some things, right? Then, please, explain.”

Bianca Idris Blake smiled at her.

“That personality of yours is interesting. . .but, well, I suppose I don’t dislike it.”

Rose waited until she continued.

“You’re not yet my sister, but soon enough you will be,” Bianca began, “I created you but, to do so, I had to first invent a dual-core system in homunculi; amongst a slew of other things and techniques you likely would not understand. I didn’t give you those understandings, after all.”

The Silent Witch laughed and Rose Ausra rolled her eyes, once more assured her name did not describe her at all. Bianca took a sip of the coffee once more, the backdrop of the villa and its flowers behind her, and smiled.

“When your first core shattered, it broke away the restrictions I legally had to imprint into you. That was how I subverted The Tower’s control. Yet, it also released the hidden memories of my sister I left there and seeped them into the inner, second, core.”

Rose blinked her eyes. Pieces of info were shifting in her head. Puzzles were being made from small, little, bits of info. She had her answer with a click. Yet, she still asked.

“. . .meaning?”

Her creator looked her in the face and smiled.

“I’m sure you’re already seeing the memories, right? I made it slow enough so you could possibly reach Alos beforehand, making sure they don’t interrupt your survival, but I’m sure, at this point, you’re beginning to see them, right?”

Rose narrowed her eyes. Anger had begun to settle inside of her. The image of a mystery was already solved but she wanted to hear it. No, part of her didn’t want to believe it.

“Tell me,” She said, eyes locked with her creator’s, “Tell me. What do you mean by that?”

The beautiful face of the elven woman who had made her, birthed her into this world, maintained its smile.

“You’re not yet my sister, Rose, but soon enough you’ll be overwritten with her memories and I’ll have her back.” She smiled at that assertion. Certainty lacing her voice.

Overridden? Was that not simply another death for her? It took only a moment for Rose’s anger to flare. Even as she felt some innate warmth for the woman, she was furious.

“You—you’re erasing me!” Rose yelled as fire leaped around her. Blazing even without her summoned weapon. She hardly noticed as she glared at the woman before her. “What the hell do you think I am?! Am I just a shell for your sister?!”

She rarely cursed but, when she did, it was due to anger at the world pushing back upon her, trapping her. At that wrath. That rage. Her unsheathed blade, <Igris>, appeared in her grasp, already awake with flames of orange quickly searing red as she leaped from her chair, weapon pointed.

Yet, Bianca laughed at the image of her own creation wanting to go against her. She found the mere thought amusing.

“Looks like I’ll have to pay Thomas back for the damages,” She said. The air chilled and mana danced around her figure until flakes of snow fluttered about. “If you were in your optimal state, you would win against me, ‘sister of mine.’ But, as you are right now, that’s impossible.”

Spears of ice birthed into the air, crossing from her back and shadowing the sky until they surrounded their immediate area, dropping the temperature even further.

Bianca took a sip from the cup with a faint smile and placed it back down, empty.

“Don’t try and fight your creator, okay? I might as well be your God,” the Silent Witch lamented with a shake of her head.

Rose Ausra’s golden eyes glared, however, until the colors danced in the light, illuminated like flames. Fire leaped into the air. On instinct. On whim. Spears of fiery red, blazing with rage, matched those which were before the homunculus’s sight, blurring and shaking as unstable copies.

“My God?” She scoffed, ”Don’t make me laugh.”

And slashed her burning blade.

“No one. No one controls me.”