Sitting up on his own bed, Dante felt much better during the past two weeks. About a month had passed since his escape and Dante had finally been earning enough money to rent a small one-plus-one student apartment, a massive improvement when compared to the hard bunk bed he had endured at first and even larger when compared to the street before that.

Null finally felt like he had a grip on his own fate as well as a goal to work towards. That goal was simple yet extremely challenging: To learn magic. It was almost strange how there was next to no mention of it anywhere Dante looked, yet what he had seen the night of his escape proved that it existed without a doubt.

So he would have to keep searching until he found something. Unfortunately, he had no clue where to begin self leaning, nor could he find any legitimate clue in any bookstore or library so he could only keep on looking. With a sigh, he stood up from the bed and put on his clothes, he had 3 full sets at that point, the latter two both bought from Pete at a discount. Dante had a lot to be grateful about towards Pete, the older man gave him a lot of genuinely good advice and even helped broker various things a 15-year-old without an identity couldn't just pay for, including the rent on Dante's apartment.

The street was a bit strange when Dante left the compound, a weirdly jolly atmosphere seemed to permeate the air. The percentage of people smiling on the walkways was absolutely abnormal thought that much wouldn't have been so worrying. It was the decorations: Glittering lights hanging behind windows and from balconies that definitely hadn’t been there the night before. Moreover, a truly abnormal amount of people trod along the walkways, especially children as young or younger than Dante.

Unsettled, Null reached the Dancing fox, a small cafe which also served breakfast and dinner. But even they had decorated the front with colourful blinking lights and the inside looked no better.

"Morning, Lucy," Null greeted the barista upon entry. The young brunette was the owner's daughter, though as a university freshman she usually only helped out in the evening.

"It's half past ten," she stared at him in an exaggerated gesture before she sighed, "Though I guess today your sleeping habits actually make sense for once. Pete's already in, I will get you the usual," she quickly ended the conversation. Although she and Dante had very little in common, Lucy was always a pleasant person to be around. Instead of bickering with her, Null continued deeper in, soon enough hailing Pete who sat at the usual table.

"Merry Messiamas," Pete, still wearing one of his many strange button-up shirts, gave an unusual greeting when Dante approached. After seeing the boy's strange expression Pete added a few more words, "Or happy holidays if that's not your thing."

"What is that supposed to even mean?" Null sighed as he sat down.

"Are you serious?" Pete's eyes widened as he stared at Dante, "This level of obliviousness is strange even for you," he inspected the boy’s expression for a few seconds and when he saw that Dante wasn’t kidding he sighed and explained, “It’s been 40 days since the winter solstice, traditionally that had been the beginning of Mesiamas, a religious holiday based on the supposed start of Messiah’s enlightenment.”

“That would explain it. My parents were far from religious,” Dante frowned as he had to lie. Although he disliked giving Pete half-truths or straight-up falsehoods, it was not possible to just tell the man he came from who knows where through a land of certain death without having any memory of it. So he had made up a story of abusive parents in a town down south, claiming he had ran away from home at 14 and later on had snuck onto a ship headed for Giltport.

“I am not a believer either,” Pete reacted to Dante’s expression, “But the holiday is nice, sales go up and the overall atmosphere is so pleasantly jolly. If you have nothing to do in the evening, you should come to Karl’s celebration. The old fox hosts it every year, though it's usually only him, me and Lucy.”

“Is that really appropriate?” Null felt a bit worried, “I have not know them for long.”

“You get along great,” though Pete tried his best to dismiss the apprehension, “In fact, they expect you to come. One part of the tradition which I particularly like is to give presents to the people who you were the closest with during the 40 days after solstice, obviously since you came here basically twice every day we each already got you something.”

“Now I feel bad for not knowing,” Dante smiled, feeling strange warmth in his chest.

“The whole day is ahead of you,” Pete chuckled, “Go out and take in the holiday atmosphere of last-minute shopping, just be back by 6 for the celebration.”

“Alright,” Dante nodded just as Lucy brought him his breakfast, 3 fresh pancakes with strawberry jam. Overhearing only his final word, she looked at Pete with questioningly and after his nod smiled and spoke to Dante, “Then I will look forward to seeing you there. Listening to the old geezer reminiscing of the ‘good old times’ gets boring after a few years.”

“Who are you calling a geezer?” Pete exaggeratedly huffed before he laughed.

After finishing his breakfast, Dante said his temporal goodbyes and headed for the Royal Line. He had to think of a present for the 3, though that was easier said than done. He needed some inspiration, so he decided to browse the shops. Considering the occasion, a snap decision was made to not ruin anyone’s holiday by taking their wallet.

Dante had amassed enough money for the time being and overreaching was not good either as too many pickpocketing accidents on the Royal Line in a short period of time would put law enforcement on guard. So he instead just browsed, treading along the seemingly endless lines of people.

After some consideration he had settled for two of the presents, an ornamental black pen with a gilded lining for Karl as the old fashioned cafe owner still did all his accounts with pen and paper; and a textbook for Lucy who was an enthusiastic bookworm when it came to medicine which she also studied at a university.

But for Pete, Dante found it much more difficult to get something good. He wanted to give Pete something personal but that made him realised that he did not actually know that much about Pete as a person. He was kind-hearted, especially for someone who ran a shop buying stolen goods but rarely spoke about himself or his past.

After some time spent in futility, Dante visited a clothing store for a change of pace. He didn’t actually expect to find anything there but then he saw it. Its mashing of brown and blue together not working whatsoever; it had decorative lines in just barely but visibly different intervals from each other; moreover, it was just ever so slightly asymmetrical which managed to cause discomfort just when looking at it. In short, it was the most hideous button-up shirt Dante could imagine. Pete would love it.

Unfortunately, Dante had no idea what size Pete wore. Since he had to guess, he ended up choosing extra large because even if he overshot it and the shirt was too big it would still go along 'well' with the strange design. Picking up the shirt he went on to pay and was overjoyed to hear that the shop also offered wrapping up service free of charge. Though the cashier did give him a strange look when she realised Dante was going to give that atrocity of a shirt to someone. Looking at the time before leaving the store, it was still barely 1 pm so Null decided to go where he always did in his free time: To the library.

When Dante entered, he was welcomed by the familiar sight of the old librarian. She was an ancient woman with a permanent frown plastered on her face. Probably mute and possibly deaf since Dante had never heard her speak nor did she ever respond to any verbal questions. As usual, she didn’t even look up from her as Dante entered. The only thing out of the ordinary was the sign stating the library was closing at 5 due to the holidays.

Placing the bag of presents down, Dante sat at one of the three tables the small establishment had and returned to the books he had left there the previous day. Very few people visited that particular library as it was a fair bit off the Royal Line, because of that Dante could just leave the books he had chosen there and still find them as he had left them.

The book in front of him was another collection of legends and myths. So far it had been fruitless and Dante expected the rest to be no better but his only choice was to relentlessly search for clues. If he persevered there was a chance he could stumble upon a myth that really depicted the method to magic. And if none did he just had to keep looking. Because if magic was 1 tenth as fantastical as Null thought, it would be able to completely change his life.

So he read, of heroes and dragons; gods and demons; good and evil. Yet none managed to truly capture his attention. Until he flipped to the last page where a poem of an unknown author dwelled. It was called Ode on the Abyss. The word Dante immediately recalled from his short conversation with Rebecca from behind the bars. And so he quickly read.

Untold is which I tell,

unknown to all but me and me alone.

of horrors from when my hope fell

and was gone

never to return.

I witnessed their maws, the gates

of realm beyond fear

beyond fates

so near

from where none could return.

The hounds, they howled

that name, as chill went up my spine

they growled and growled,

Vanshaj! Vanshaj! Vanshaj!

queen of our Abyss, returned.

Dareth not I approach,

nor leave

as the beasts began to encroach,

stepping on broken leaf.

And my fear returned.

Not here, not here! cursed

the fiends.

The kin of the first,

not in these fields!

and to the beyond they returned.

What is that Abyss they evoked?

I wonder still

as I write this ode, revoked

from the fear is still my once strong will.

And it always returns.

That was utterly useless, Dante sighed, and probably incorrect. Rebecca had previously clearly told him that fiends from the Abyss were senseless creatures only living to ravenously devour mana, they couldn’t possibly think, much less speak. Still, something at the back of his mind felt off. There was a strange sense of familiarity, though in the end, Dante could only conclude that he had read and remembered that poem before his amnesia, though even that did not quite feel correct.

But before he could ponder any further a bell rang. The librarian’s tool to announce she was about to close. Looking up at the clock, Dante noticed it was in fact already quarter past 5. Since he definitely didn’t want to be late for the celebration, Dante left the book where it was, picked up his bag and said ‘goodbye’ not caring whether the woman could hear him or not. And then he was gone, hurrying over to the Dancing Fox. The supposed clue was a bust but at least he had an upcoming event to raise his spirit.