Omake 12: Written Victory (C)

"Every child is an artist, the problem is staying an artist when you grow up." – Pablo Picasso

Ilia, now two years older than when I first met her, was… nervous.

I could tell that the girl was having quite the emotional and mental struggle from the way her chameleon's features were all acting up. Hair, skin, and eyes were changing color rapidly, never settling for the same pattern for a little more than two seconds.

It was sure an interesting sight to pass some time as we waited in the reception area of the editor's office. Ren was doing a better job in keeping himself from panicking too much, merely paling and trying to distract himself by reading a magazine I bought for the occasion.

The reason why I was the only adult to keep around was because we were in Vale and… because Ilia's parents were busy with work. The girl was 'fine' with this, I could tell she was slightly upset because of it, but she seemed to digest this situation quite well. Still, we were in Vale and, while this wasn't the first time I visited for something time-limiting, I decided to take them around for a mini-tour.

They seemed to appreciate this, especially since it helped to loosen up the nerve-wracking grasp over their minds. They might have grown up a fair lot in two years, but they were still kids and… and this wasn't an easy situation to handle without some supervision. Ilia finally got a call from an editor interested in her writing project, and Ren is meant to be there since he was behind the illustrations assigned to the book.

This situation had been particularly tense in the last few months since I realized very few editors were keen to consider any book idea from Faunus. It was an odd discrimination policy, but it was mostly applied by some traditional groups in Atlas. Vale was freer in that regard, and much to my surprise it still took that long to get some fascination from one of the many available editors.

Just as I pondered about this, my attention was forcibly taken back on the room as the door that led inside the office finally opened. An old man with graying hair and mustache, and blue eyes stood by the doorstep. He was wearing a dark-green formal uniform, a pair of reading glasses aiding his sight over the paper in front of him.

"Ms. Amitola and Mr. Lie?" The man called up with a distracted tone, his stare aimed at the small list he was reading from. "I believe you came here with a guardian, Mr. Bukharin-"

The moment the name was brought up, the elder's stare turned up and right at me.

"Oh, Mr. Bukharin-"

"Before this becomes an awkward situation, I'm here as a guardian to these two children, and it would be preferred if they were judged accordingly and without anything about my presence influencing the main decision," I swiftly addressed, merely getting a quick nod from the editor as he backed away and allowed us entry in his office.

The place was modest sized, it was just enough to house three standing people while four more were allowed a seat by the desk. Shelves filled with books, most of those having been published by relation to this man, and others seemingly forgotten pieces of literature.

"I believe I should introduce myself properly," The elder said with a serious voice. "I'm Gris Ancient, and I'm the head of the Editorial Group 'Ancient Tales'. And I believe we can strike a deal regarding the draft that was sent to me through the CCTV."

"Well, the individual that is behind the book is Ms. Amitola," I replied with a nod. "My nephew, Ren, is the one behind the illustrations."

"Oh, I actually… thought the illustrator was an adult," The elder admitted with a hint of surprise. "But it hardly changes my idea that the images drawn are surprisingly appealing to the target audience. I showed the draft to my granddaughter and she seemed to particularly like the way the protagonists were drawn. I also noticed that it was faithful to the description offered by the author."

The praise was met with a slow nod. "T-Thank you."

I smiled proudly at Ren, and the boy allowed a nervous smile back at me.

"But the main element is still the book. The story itself is fairly simple, but it's expected to be that easy so children can properly understand it… while also being enticing enough to encourage the sales," Gris continued with a nod. "I took the chance of studying the structure, the grammar, and the way it all came to an open end, which would suggest that you are planning a continuation to it."

"Y-Yes," Ilia admitted and she looked up at me, trying to get permission to bring up the fact she was almost done with the second part of the tale she was bringing up.

"She has already started working on a continuation, but she agreed that it was best to not give too much right now without we know for sure how the first book will do on the market," I explained and the man nodded in understanding.

"I see. I guess I will take it from your word that you have given it a look yourself, the first book."

"I did."

"May I ask you then a quick question before we move on other topics, Mr. Bukharin?" The editor inquired and I gave him a cautious nod. "Do you have experience on this subject?"

"I have."

"And from what I can tell, you too have seen that this book has an interesting potential. It either can lead to a brilliant success, or it can end up flunking and become a mediocre hit."

I nodded. "It can happen, yes. But… there is also to take into account that a new story isn't one to shun about, especially when it can be used by parents to soothe the worries of their children."

"The Grimm makes for an important factor since many children have trouble finding calm when in a settlement by the unknown frontier," He agreed. "But it still will be an uneasy gamble."

"I know it will work," I pressed on with confidence. "So… do we have a deal?"

…

Two hours later, we were walking towards the exit with a pleased look plastered on our faces. But while Ren was already relieved from all the nervousness that he had been having for the first half of the morning was gone, Ilia was still computing the fact that we signed a contract. And that it would have afforded her a lot when the gamble proved to be successful.

There was a lot of quiet, with Ren inquiring if we would have gone to the hotel first before planning out the retreat back home or if I planned to eat somewhere else other than where we were staying. I looked down at him with a mischievous smile since I had a little surprise planned out.

"I believe we still have one last date. I believe they would want to know what happened today in person after all," I pointed out, drawing confusion from both kids as we made our way out of the building and… Ren was tackled to the ground by a giggling girl.

"Did you make it?!" Nora half-asked as she stared down at him.

"Nora?"

"They did," I replied with a nod. Realizing that my daughter was here, Ilia took a moment to look around and she spotted Sienna approaching… and beside her, the Chameleon Faunus' parents.

"M-mom and dad?"

They looked nervous, still unsure of how things had gone, but they seemed to calm down when they heard Nora's happy exclamation as she started to drag around her pseudo-sibling.

"I didn't want them to miss this big event, Ilia," I explained to her. "So I decided to prepare a surprise."

She looked at me and started to tremble in a mix of surprise and joy. It didn't take her long to slam onto me and squeeze tightly at my leg before repeating numerous 'Thank yous' in the process.

Little Ilia got the success she deserved by working so hard on this book.

[I wonder how much things will change now that the cutie will no longer be drawn to combat.]

Who knows...

"I believe they would want a hug too," I mirthfully commented as I gestured to her parents. "Come on, don't let them wait."

The push was happily accepted as she released my leg and stared up at me once again.

"T-Thank you, U-Uncle John."

My smile widened. "You're welcome, sweetie."

And with that, the girl bolted to her father and mother's waiting arms, happily accepting getting lifted up in a big family hug.

Two months later, the book that was written by little Ilia Amitola would become a bestseller among books for children her age, marking the beginning of a 'renewal of fairy tales' among other writers.