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Chapter 3
Stepping out of her office, Sophia adjusted her robe and ran her hand over the dolphin-shaped business card in her pocket. As she walked, she gathered her wavy dark blonde hair into a bun. It was time for her usual routine.
The clinic had been built from the ground up by the Ephor many years ago. The exact date of its establishment was strictly confidential for regular staff.
If asked what this place meant to these beings and what feelings it evoked, the Ephor would have answered with one word – order. Every nook and cra
The nurse's involuntary smile, the menu in the cafeteria, the sleep and wake schedules – all had one common goal. And the coordinated mechanism worked smoothly.
Thanks to timely renovations, the clinic looked impeccable. The white, glossy floors, lemon-colored walls in the long corridors, and spotless, white patient rooms, where the furniture color harmonized with the surroundings, all contributed to the atmosphere. The cold light from the ceiling bulbs didn’t strain the patients' eyes, while the cozy green garden with its lawn (behind the clinic) allowed people to co
Sophia's patient had been admitted for rehabilitation three weeks ago. The notes mentioned that he occasionally experienced panic attacks, and typical sedatives weren't effective.
She entered the room and noticed a man sitting on the windowsill, thoughtfully gazing out the window. A sheet of paper lay on his lap, and he was sketching something with a pencil.
“Constantin Von?” the Ephor called out to him.
“It’s Van, to be precise. And I want to say right away that I’m feeling much better. So you don’t have to waste your time on me,” he said, setting the paper lay down on the windowsill and jumping down.
Sophia looked at Constantin. Before her stood an athletic man, constantly adjusting his ash-blonde hair.
She opened his medical file, activating the extended data function: "Born in a seaside town. Age 29. Height 1.80 m. A young Earth soul. Begi
“Are you drawing?” she nodded toward the sheet of paper.
“Yes – the nurse said no sharp objects are allowed in the room, so I 'borrowed' a pencil from her pocket. Sorry about that. Drawing always calms me down,” he smiled, rolling the "wooden tool" between his fingers.
Sophia approached the windowsill and glanced at the sheet. It depicted a boy and a girl. The girl stood behind the boy, hesitating with her hand halfway to his shoulder. Her medium-length curly hair flowed freely, and delicate freckles were visible on her cheeks. One strand was tucked behind her ear, revealing a pointed ear that resembled either an elf's or a fox's.
“I don’t want to overthink it, but I think he’s drawing me.”
Startled, Sophia quickly glanced to the right corner.
A naked red-haired girl with bright blush and green eyes nervously twitched her fluffy tail.
She stood partially in the shadows, with half of her body erotically illuminated by the midday sun.
"Kalliduses are jokers, beings with high adaptive functions. They embody sexuality, always hungry for sexual energy. They can adjust to any circumstances, being cu
“It looks that way, doesn’t it? He wakes up in the middle of the night and starts drawing frantically. Once, he painted the girl’s hair in bright red. I’m starting to get anxious. That’s why I brought him here. Though the girl was so sensual, just beautiful. A bright spot in a gray world.”
“The self-love of the Kallidus is also not to be underestimated.”
“Excuse me, you haven’t introduced yourself,” Constantin called out to Sophia, interrupting the guide’s tirade, but (to his fortune) unaware of it.
“Sophia. Sophia Ryoskin,” the girl replied and turned to him. “Beautiful drawing, you have a vivid imagination.”
“Do you think so? Sometimes I wish the girl in the drawing would finally touch her companion, but I feel like the time hasn’t come yet,” Constantin hesitated, as if shy about his drawing.
“And I hope it won’t come,” the Guide scoffed.
“Do you mind if I take the drawing?” Sophia asked. “It’s just so unusual.”
“Of course, I have plenty of them,” Constantin hesitated for a moment. “Tell me, how long will I be here?”
“No, there’s no need for that. Panic attacks aren’t uncommon these days. I’ll schedule follow-up appointments to monitor your progress. Otherwise, you can return to your normal life.”
“Thank you. I have an exhibition tomorrow. It’s nothing spectacular, but maybe – will you come?”
She looked at Constantin, who couldn’t stop smiling at her. Sophia hadn’t pla
“Yes, of course. Write the time and address on the back of the paper. You already have a pencil.”
Constantin laughed and, with a victorious expression, jotted down the address.
“Well, I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow, make sure to come.”
“Yes, definitely come. Otherwise, we’ll come after you ourselves,” the guide teased.
“Excuse me. How did you say it’s pronounced? Von?” Sophia turned back as she was leaving the room.
“Van. Constantin Van,” he replied.
“Elizabeth. You can call me Libby,” the Guide muttered.
Sophia arrived early at the designated spot on the paper. Ephors always had a habit of doing everything perfectly, and being late was unacceptable for them. She wanted to speed up the process of co
At the exhibition, as with any other event, she chose a refined outfit. A black blazer, a black silk dress, and black high-heeled pumps. For accessories, she opted for emerald stud earrings and a thin titanium ring on her pinky.
Stepping out of the car, Sophia decided to take a look around. The studio was located not far from the main street, but it was hidden from passersby by winding alleys and iron staircases. The brick building, in the spirit of the old town, seemed to say "new things are born here, but the old is honored."
The iron door creaked open with a heavy groan, and Constantin stepped into the light. He was wearing a green checkered shirt with rolled-up sleeves, worn dark jeans, sneakers, and a few strokes of paint on his wrist.
“What delicate hands he has,” Ephor noted.
“Sophia! I didn’t think you were so punctual. There’s still an hour until the opening,” Van said a bit flustered but his eyes showed joy.
“Yes, I can’t help myself. It’s probably a professional habit,” she shrugged.
“Well, everything is almost ready. Please, come in,” Constantin invited her.
Everything inside was just as Sophia had imagined. A well-lit space, with light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and walls sconces. Gray loft-style walls and a long dark chocolate leather Chesterfield sofa sat in the middle of the room by the bar, waiting for its guests.
“This used to be a glass factory,” Constantin said, standing beside her and surveying the studio. “When the factory closed, I was able to buy the space cheaply and customize it for myself. As a bonus, I used leftover glass to update the stained glass windows and create a wall in the shower.”
“In the shower?” she exclaimed in surprise.
“Yes, I live here on the second floor. I don’t stray far from work, so to speak.”
“Interesting approach. What is today’s exhibition dedicated to?” Sophia asked.
“Inspiration at night,” Van replied. “That’s why I started at sunset, so visitors can transition smoothly from evening to night, noticing new details in the drawings.”
“Do you prefer to create at night?”
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough daylight to express the depth of my thoughts on the canvas. That’s why I harness the night with its endless supply of ideas and possibilities. Under the light of the lamps, my drawings take on a completely different meaning and energy – something that can’t be captured during the day.”
Constantin gestured around the studio with a sense of parental pride.
“He’s still trying to hold on to his dreams,” Libby sighed, lounging provocatively on the sofa. “Last night, he jumped up as if scalded and started drawing twins.”
“Twins?” Sophia asked aloud.
“You have a good eye,” Constantin smirked. “This piece is brand new; I literally painted it last night. What do you think?”
He led her to the painting, which depicted two girls holding hands. It might have seemed unremarkable, except for the fact that he had painted them as albinos.
“That’s not all,” Constantin said proudly. “When the sun starts to set, we’ll definitely come back to this piece.”
Sophia glanced warily at the sofa, where Libby lay with her tail draped over her shoulders like a shawl.
“Well, what did I tell you? At this rate of progress, I’ll be sent back and demoted,” she sighed.
As the sun set, Sophia was surprised to see how many people had arrived. Men and women of different ages gradually filled the hall. The bartender, who had arrived half an hour before opening, was already mixing drinks, entertaining the guests with his skilled hands.
Sophia ordered a martini, noticing that it was a popular choice among the women, and slowly walked around the studio, trying to find something to hold onto in her search for a solution. The task was indeed no easy feat.
Over the centuries, the Ephor had encountered various opponents. There were bankers, soldiers, circus performers, stablehands, and plantation slaves. But they all shared one common experience: they had endured a profound shock that began to return their memories of past lives.
Now, however, the situation was different. According to available information, Constantin had grown up in a well-off family, comfortable and well-cared-for. He had done well in school and hadn’t lacked attention. Thanks to Libby, he possessed a strong charisma. He wasn’t afraid of moving, and any task seemed easily manageable to him. He wasn’t prone to depression. So what could have triggered such a rapid return of memory? That was what she needed to find out.
Continuing to walk through the space, Sophia tried her best not to pay attention to the other guides. There were many of them, and they quickly recognized her as an Ephor, but to their credit, they didn’t bombard her with questions. Some glanced at Libby with sympathy. Rumors in High Society spread as quickly as they did among ordinary people.