Renz strolled down one of the TS Long Cons many corridors. It hadn’t been long since he’d woken up from passing out in the ship’s hangar, and he couldn’t help wondering what exactly had happened. So far all he knew was that someone had knocked out the entire crew, Conmer’s mother was somehow involved, and everything was fine now. Sure, he could hunt down Conmer and get a more detailed explanation, but that took effort. As the old homgen saying went: “Be lazy in what doesn’t matter to you, so you might have the will left for what does. Yet never fail to surpass the limits of your passion, lest you become restless during times of rest.” A bit lengthy for an old saying, but no one ever accused the homgen of being curt.
Seeing Ardjia’s gallery had reminded Renz that he hadn’t made anything beautiful in years – only practical things. As the other old homgen saying went: “Making things with purpose brings purpose to the soul, making things with elegance brings elegance to the mind.” Perhaps he and Manri could paint a mural in the engine room. Sure, treefol couldn’t be trusted with a wrench. They carried minds with the uniquely dangerous combination of absolute genius, a total unwillingness to learn from past mistakes, and the inability to comprehend safety regulations- but he’d heard they could do magical things with a brush. The works themselves were crude, but even a single backstroke of a treefol piece carried more inspiration than the masters of old could fit in an entire painting. It was as though they had been blessed by the angel Muse herself.
“Ah, Renz. Perfect timing.” Genrou approached, his mood visibly brightening as he did. “I had the good fortune of visiting a local museum on that art colony, and I couldn’t help but notice how… morbid so many of the older pieces were. As a genzin, I’m no stranger to death being portrayed in art, but I’m not used to it being shown with so little elegance… The death, I mean – the paintings themselves were superb.” His expression grew puzzled. “I just could not understand why something so clearly hated was featured so prominently. Could you explain it?”
“…Ah…” A melancholy smile crossed Renz’s face, paradoxically laden with pride and shame alike. “Those must have been recovered from an ancient life festival.”
A note from the
Treefol technology: Revolutionary, innovative, and horribly unsafe.