Birthday

So. A lot of time has passed since then. Now, unlike that time, Sefi was carefully keeping track of time.

Right… need to check. Yes, two years have passed. Well, not exactly, soon it will have passed, soon there will be an event, after which it definitely will have.

Much has changed in this time. The house has become bigger, or rather, transformed. It's more beautiful, several nice windows have appeared, the furniture is more plush. If Sefi herself created precise constructions with minimal beauty, then thanks to Frau's design and Mari's persistence, patterned carpets and curtains appeared in the house. And those beautiful windows with frames, which, surprisingly, are of higher quality, though no one was seen being particularly into carpentry. And also – colored. There were other things: a sofa, its frame assembled by her, but the softness was achieved by Frau. The down was obtained from birds, and Frau, not wanting to disturb Sefi, did all that work himself.

A small extension appeared – a shed for firewood, tools, and other necessities. Several garden beds and a well. They live not richly, but they live well. Separately – yes, but the main thing is in sufficiency. Hmm, Sefi initially thought they might be attacked by some bandits or robbers, considering the times, but nothing like that happened all this time. Surprisingly, because usually such houses are easy targets for thugs. And to prevent that, she improved the walls, made the frame stronger, added stone blocks at the corners and rubble to reinforce the foundation.

Many things were obtained by themselves: like wool, then they spun it into thread. And now they usually tried to do it humanely, catch an animal, stun it, and shear the herbivores... wild rams, as Sefi herself called them, roamed these parts. Because they look like that, only the horns are thicker and they seem larger, and also very aggressive. And Mari called them "Brawsons," unclear. Nevertheless, this comes from the past or a simple legend that was on everyone's lips. Herds of these "Brawsons" passed through one village, and the residents of that village had to run from the enraged rams that chased them and tried to gore everyone and everything. The village was smashed to splinters, and people were left homeless, only the rams were fine. And that's the story. "Brawsons" comes from the word "Brawling". Very dangerous, and they don't live alone, but in a pack or group.

Down – from various caught birds. They tried to start proper animal husbandry, but it didn't work out. Something like little sheep or goats didn't live here. And taming wild ones didn't work. Brawsons – a horror, one of the horned ones hit her so hard that something cracked inside, and her horns against these monsters seemed like... twigs. After that, Sefi holds them all with magic, because that time she was sure she could pin the beast to the ground, and it was even tied up. Unclear how the ropes came undone. Mari saved her then, hit it on the head, so the little ram fell to the ground and passed out, tongue lolling out. A machine, not a man. Plus, she didn't take interest, but took note and soon repaid it, but only with new boots and gloves, with a hard side on the back, comfortable and warm. Just for the person who works with an axe. And the boots have hard soles and lots of insulation inside, and the dense leather provides decent durability.

Very rarely, rarely, wagons passed by

Usually just a few, if lucky, a line of four or five wagons. No large caravans. Extremely rare traders. Whatever people they were, they were very surprised to see such a lovely yet protected little house. Some stopped and talked with them, while Sefi was hidden in a closet and told not to come out.

Then Mari would go to them to exchange something, maybe buy if they had money. Sometimes he got new things – for example, a new hammer or hoe. There were also coins, obtained by selling clothes and threads they wove themselves. Unfortunately, she couldn't communicate with the traders – she wasn't allowed there, and… she understood that a demon wouldn't be accepted as benign, more likely they'd try to kill her than make contact. The bitter experience with the elves… and the couple's own stories, where they described that almost all demons are monsters. "Almost" – because she's not like them. It's hurtful, probably. And Miss Serie's words... it seems she doesn't hold such anger towards her now, but resentment surfaces the more she thinks about it, so better not to think.

Right, we were talking about coins. In appearance – copper, brown circles of metal. Sefi asked to examine them. They had weight and, to her surprise, notches on the edges. Apparently, they already know here that there are counterfeiters who shave off the edges… which, in turn, showed that the world's development is at a good level. Technologically good.

All coins have notching – meaning, somewhere there is a mint with the resources, machinery, and capability for such complex production. By the way, there were also patterns: some kind of leaf here… looks like a maple leaf, but not exactly. Maybe it means something, but it's not important.

The main thing – they really have money here, though one could also go the barter route. That's good. And, probably, barter will never disappear while it's the Middle Ages.

On one of the coins – several greenish patches, rust… this is concerning, but the spots are small. Nevertheless, the conclusion is: this particular coin was used the most, passed through many hands or simply lay in dampness for a long time.

Another surprising discovery – price categories. Since we're talking about money, it means there are larger denominations: silver and gold at the top of the hierarchy. Mari also said there are some… other types of coins, depending on the territory. For example, in the North, there are lands where the quality of gold coin minting is not only head and shoulders above, but trust in them is greater. In short, even though gold is the same for everyone, the weight and purity of the metal differ. One gold coin from the North equals three central ones, roughly… or almost. No precise information, because neither Mari nor Frau had ever held a gold coin, and they hadn't been to the North either.

The most they had was silver, and that was long ago. Usually, village life goes on thanks to bartering or, at worst, copper coins. Yes, they are avid travelers and reckless people who ventured into the mountains and to the giant bird, but economics – is a tough thing that spares no one. She knows from her own experience... wait... oh yeah, she was once... human... and didn't live here... Usually people have a past, parents, and someone else... but she doesn't remember something, it's foggy in her head. Unclear.

However… now they had capital: 54 copper coins. For a few, you could rent a room at an inn, usually of average quality. The price itself depends on the city, but on average – 3 coins per night. Bread and water – 1 coin. A good lunch – another 2, dinner also two or three if you want something tasty. About 8-9 coins a day were spent. Hmm… 54 coins… not such a large sum.

Exchange rates – vary. One central region silver coin is worth about a hundred coppers, somewhere around 120. And here interesting details appeared: for example, the silver coin "stater" with an owl's image, whose purchasing power was huge – almost like gold. A rare denomination, carrying weight not only in metal but also in trust. Why? Unknown. Probably, it was minted during the reign of some respected ruler in some era, and remained so. Learned this because Mari told her, and he learned from a trader, who learned from another. And, possibly, it's a myth, judging by how it passed from mouth to mouth, but still. Every joke has a grain of truth. And if so, then there are probably gold coins whose value is so great that you could buy… even… hard to imagine.

Based on this, there are other types of coins. Nevertheless, for now, in circulation among many villages and people in general – these "leaflets." Oh yes, such a nickname came from the image on the coins.

— What is it, Sefi? Want a coin or something? — Frau asked jokingly, sitting next to her and watching as the demoness… no… woman carefully examined a coin. Flamme was now sleeping sweetly in her room, while Mari was eating opposite them. It was soup, vegetables and pieces of meat, a bit of salt and spices. Simple, hearty, and tasty.

— Just thinking… I once wanted… to sell things and become rich. — She said, not moving her lips. The choker on her neck worked perfectly, now there were few problems and distortions, almost none. Got used to living like this. Hands too. In general, the mana volume and control over it had grown: if the first – insignificantly, then the second had skyrocketed. Such actions were now automatic for her and required a little less effort than at the beginning. Optimized everything.

— Wow? Tell me! What did you want to sell? — Her interlocutor's eyes lit up, and the man, who was eating until then, put down the bread he was about to dip in the soup and also began to listen attentively.

— Back then I wanted to sell bone figurines, various toys and wood carvings, mainly decorative things. Also clothing. And with magic, I wanted to make sculptures, or rather statues… and maybe draw, probably. — She said and clenched the coin in her artificial hand. Yes, she didn't feel anything with it, but could change it however she wanted.

This was a plus, because thanks to this hand she could lift heavier things with proper effort. Also, this hand didn't feel fatigue, could change and apply disproportionate angles of rotation, and simply change as desired. A multi-tool hand, because her mana allowed her to change the hand's shape. At the right moment – a hammer, then an axe, and if needed, a knife. The latter is especially cool, because instantly drawing a weapon from the hand would help in battle. Also doesn't feel pain – a perfect shield if unfolded. However, it's wood, not metal, albeit strong, but it has a durability limit, even if reinforced with mana... but... impossible to make it indestructible. Probably, in the future, she needs to make a metal hand so it lasts longer.

— Hmm… and what then? — asked Mari, and here Sefi thought. Indeed, what then? At that moment she hadn't thought, because for her, her life was as short as a human's, but now, knowing the revelations… then why?

To be rich… and… that's it?

— I didn't think about that… — she honestly admitted and put the piece of metal on the table. And now this question was spinning in her head more strongly.

Interesting…

What then?

Then…

Usually, everyone has dreams, some goal, a finish line, after which they can firmly say they lived this life worthily. But what is worthy?

For her, once it was… just to achieve success? No… there was something else. She cared about someone, but who? What was her human life like before all this? Numbers, history, music and theater, and before that? Parents, maybe brothers and sisters?

She doesn't remember

It should be hurtful, should be bad… but no, she doesn't care. It's infuriating. The absence of emotions, everything inside was hidden, she couldn't bring it out. Could clench her hands to the limit, grind her teeth and think, just couldn't feel. Knows it's not normal, just can't react.

— Papaa!

Flamme woke up, shouted loudly, calling for them, specifically – dad, which he was proud of. Everyone went to her room. Usually, she was kept in a cradle, but after she started talking, Sefi specially prepared a playpen for her so she could crawl and develop, a large one, not small. For this little one, she didn't spare any effort. Looks like a cage, a big cage, only no roof, but there's a soft floor, solid railings, and lots of safe toys. Perfect, isn't it?

And yes…

Flamme was standing

Not as usual, holding onto the railing – no, she was standing and looking at them. Yes, not perfectly straight, legs trembling a little, but she was standing like a mountain. On her own.

— MY DAUGHTERRRRR!

The father went crazy with joy and immediately rushed to her, jumped over the playpen fence, hugged his daughter and spun around with her. The girl giggled and repeated: "Papa!"

— Two of a kind, — the mother said with a smile, watching this. You could feel this aura of pride and joy, and her eyes so… alive…

How… cute… Did she have something like that? When she was a child? Was she even a child?

Strange, strange... strange. It's even bad. However, looking at the scene, she feels nothing... or exactly nothing?

No similar image flashed in her memory – no strong father's hands tossing her up, no mother's laughter that warms the soul. There was only emptiness, smooth and emotionless. No people like Mari, or like Frau. Banknotes, reports, and an office with a computer is what she has.

— Did you see? HA! She was standing! — Mari, breathless and beaming, put Flamme back on her feet, holding her by the hands. The girl immediately tried to take a step and almost flopped, but her father was alert. Held her by the hands, still smiling. — She'll be running soon!

— I saw, — Sefi quietly answered, and her artificial lips stretched into a precise, practiced gesture – a smile. Yes, she... felt fine, should be joyful.

Frau, as if catching something in her tone, hugged her, put her chin on her shoulder and made a hum of joy.

— Thank you for making this playpen for her. — She whispered. Sefi just nodded and watched as Mari and Flamme slowly twirled, holding hands.

Sefi stood, analyzing the sensation from this sudden touch. It wasn't unpleasant. It was… data. Temperature, pressure, the texture of Frau's shirt fabric. Nothing more.

— Nothing special. — She said aloud. True. Just the optimal solution for infant development: a safe space, stimulation of motor activity. And also, a gift for his achievements.

***

Evening spread through the house with a thick, weary peace. Flamme, exhausted by her feat, fell asleep almost instantly. The couple went to their room, only Sefi remained in the kitchen, sitting at the table. In her hands was a coin – the one with the green spots.

To become rich…

Now this dream seemed… meaningless. What is wealth for someone who has no past to mourn and no clear future to desire? She had a goal before – to survive, adapt, understand. And what if she becomes rich? As a demon, she won't be able to use these riches, because people won't accept her into society, and demons certainly won't care about gold. For the former, she's a monster, for the latter – useless metal.

And before that…

She tried to adapt to this world

Now she was adapted. The house stood, systems worked, the family… someone else's family nearby grew and flourished without her direct involvement. She was a useful tool in their household. A reliable mechanism. Helped and now sees how they live.

She slowly raised her artificial hand before her face. At a mental command, the fingers merged, stretched, sharpened, turning into a blade. Then – into an axe, then – into a hammer.

Usually, the sharpness of her blades was achieved by thinning the tip and increasing durability. Looks like wood, but cuts like steel. And yes… wood… the hand – just a piece of log. Brown, polished, having taken the shape of a hand.

Most of it is hidden by sleeves, sometimes she wears gloves…

— "I wonder… what comes next." — She changed the last hammer shape back into a hand. First the wrist, palm and fingers. No nails, minimalism. — "What to do…"

As a long-lived being, she didn't know… what's the point in everything? Hmm, a moral dilemma... never thought she'd face this. Especially in the role of an immortal… no, not that – precisely a long-lived being.

Her possibilities are limitless, considering: she could become a master in many fields, just need to try. However, this is somewhat futile without proper guidance… it will lead to a waste of time. As strange as it sounds: without learning under someone's supervision or without studying existing data, she can never become a true master.

Even something as simple as woodworking – there are special techniques and tools for precision, and for now she managed thanks to magic and persistence. Her experience is not that of real carpenters. Probably, compared to them, she's worse. And sciences like metalworking developed throughout human history, and studying that alone, without decent textbooks, is impossible… No, it's possible to be self-taught, but it would take more than one millennium, and even then, not guaranteed.

She knows the basics, studied chemistry. Raw, mined metal can't be immediately forged into something – it needs processing, mixing in proportions. For example, for bronze – tin and copper. And… that's it. Nothing more. Even though she knows history, her knowledge in this field is limited to… types of armor, weapons, use of various tools and materials, events and their consequences, and the like. Possibly, a few diagrams and her own logic – nothing more. It's just theory, not even complete theory.

And studying this would only be possible near people, to whom she has no access… no, who won't let her near. As a long-lived being, she could become a master of everything, but she can't…

— "Maybe just… do…" — Honestly, she didn't know what to do. There was no goal as such. No cherished dream either. However… — "Maybe I don't even need a goal"

Just go with the flow, do what's needed and live. No one forbids it, solve problems as they come, not following any particular path. Time will tell everything. As irresponsible as it sounds…

By the way, about time. Soon exactly two years will have passed. How did she determine?

Flamme's birthday

Usually, the new year comes in winter, in December: snow, a fir tree, and Christmas. However, here… there are several problems. First, she herself doesn't like winter… cold is bad, and snow brings cold.

Second, it is a new event in her life – easier to mark by it, and the parent couple definitely know this date, so it's easier to count from. A week left until the cherished day.

— A gift… a gift…

You give a gift on a birthday. What to give Flamme here? Hmm… hmm… need to think, think…

So… so… so… so…

She tapped her finger on the table, in rhythm. Thought about what gift for a child. Dolls… no, enough of those. Clothes too… Hmm, something special. After all, today Flamme accomplished a feat by standing on her feet.

Something good, needed… Hmm, what about a walker? If the child is standing on her feet, then she needs to develop that, and to avoid injuries, a walker would be perfect. Hmm, no, can't. If she walks, she should do it herself, and they could hinder bone development and coordination. Excessive help is bad, and her gift should serve long and reliably, so it's not thrown out in a few months.

For a child who's almost three… Wait, don't children start walking earlier? Around a year… and six months. Hmm, are Flamme's legs not very developed? Wait, before she was walking, leaning on the playpen walls, so that's also walking. No need to think about it – everyone develops at their own pace.

What if she develops the walker theme and makes a stroller? So Flamme could get fresh air. And lots of air is healthy, and sunbathing, and then… just seeing nature is better for a child.

Design: four wheels, frame, fabric, movable mechanisms for raising and lowering a small awning so the sun doesn't shine in the eyes, a handle and wheel lock, a safety belt, and several reinforcements for durability. Hmm… there's time. Will start tomorrow.

***

Morning began with chopping trees. The frame should be made of wood, and many elements, like the wheels, too.

The idea seemed simple until Sefi got to work. The first boards, nailed into a rectangle on four small round chunks, didn't even remotely resemble a stroller. She put a couple of stones inside and pushed – the structure collapsed with a crash, not having traveled even a step. First of all, everything fell apart because these "wheels" were simply nailed to the board and hardly rotated. She deliberately didn't hammer the nails all the way in, but even so, nothing worked. The frame was also weak, assembled only on nails, without joinery or reinforcements. Sefi nodded to herself. She didn't believe it would work the first time – needed to see and understand. A mistake is data. Data leads to improvement.

Frau, who came out of the house, stopped dead, looking at her creation. She walked over with quick steps and peered over her shoulder:

— Sefi… is this… a new type of cart? A tiny cart? — she cautiously asked, examining the pile of broken wood.

— A stroller. For Flamme, to carry her. — Sefi explained, already gathering the boards again.

— Carry? — Frau slowly shifted her gaze from the firewood to the house, where their darling was sleeping. — You… want to make a wagon for a baby?

— Yes. This way she can see the world safely, and conveniently. — Frau silently nodded, but her eyes showed pure, genuine bewilderment. Who has ever seen a child being carried in a separate little cart? They are carried in arms or in a sling. Too strange. However, judging by Sefi's words, it's convenient and good! And this demon… that is, woman – never did anything bad for Flamme. She can be trusted.

The second attempt was stronger. Sefi reinforced the corners with iron brackets found in an old wagon. But the wheels, simply placed on an axle, refused to rotate together – one spun, the other didn't, and the whole structure immediately veered to the side. She tried to make them separately, on their own mounts, but then they wobbled and flew off at the first bump. Like supermarket carts.

— What's that noise? — Mari approached her, taking off his gloves. He had been chopping wood and tending the garden, and now, seeing a structure resembling a low table on wheels, froze, then remembered Frau's words. — Oho-ho! Building a battle chariot for our little commander?

— It's a stroller. The wheels aren't working well. — Sefi said without extra words, trying to reinsert the wooden axle correctly.

Mari squatted beside her, examined the construction. His experience as a carpenter and traveler was much more practical than her theoretical calculations, and he was familiar with a blacksmith from the village. Even if he didn't work, he saw and heard the wisdom.

— I see the problem. The axle and wheel are one whole in carts. But here you have… independent ones. Clever, but it won't work well. Need to make metal bushings. — He tapped his finger on the wheel's contour. — And grease them with tar. And also… no suspension here, need to somehow absorb the shaking. On our roads, the child will be shaken like… well, I don't even know, like peas in a jar.

The concepts of "suspension" and "shock absorber" were familiar to Sefi, she perfectly understood the principle. Only how to make it for a stroller? Needed to soften jolts. She tried attaching the seat to the frame with thick leather straps so it would spring. The result was comical – the test stones swayed inside like on a swing, and the stroller tipped over. Heavy and impractical.

***

The work dragged on for days. Prototypes multiplied: one with large wheels from an old wheelbarrow, another – with a woven basket instead of a body, a third – with a primitive "roof" of stretched fabric. Each had a fatal flaw. Either hard to push, or got stuck on small stones, or tipped over. Finding the ideal was difficult. Especially considering that wood is not plastic, and there's no rubber here. Had to think of alternatives, think and rethink everything from scratch.

Mari got seriously involved. He got pieces of metal nobody used: extra hinges, nails, and something else. Asked Sefi to change their shape, which she did with magic. Now they had sturdy iron axles and thin steel ring-bushings for the wheels. Frau, seeing their enthusiasm, stopped being surprised and took on the "coziness": sewed a soft seat with a cushion from dense fabric, figured out how to attach a retractable sunshade on flexible rods. These rods were thin, made from several flattened bronze coins – a necessary expense, the shape changed again thanks to Sefi.

Trials turned into family entertainment. Test bags of sawdust, acting as dummies, were placed in the finished stroller. Everything was fine, but as soon as they drove onto the bumpy path, the shaking started. The main problem remained the wheels – hard, transmitting every bump. They're made of wood, not covered with rubber… Hmm…

The solution came unexpectedly. For testing, Sefi wrapped the wooden rims with several layers of thick, elastic leather, sewed it into a ring and stretched it like a drum. Got a primitive semblance of a tire. When Mari pushed the stroller, it drove over stones with a dull but soft thud, not a deafening rattle.

— "Excellent. Not as beautiful as regular strollers, but that can be fixed." — Sefi looked at it proudly, the main thing is it works, the rest can be solved.

— There! — Frau exclaimed, clapping her hands. — Now it's not a cart, but a throne on wheels!

The final prototype was far from perfect, but it worked. A sturdy wooden frame, four independent wheels on iron axles, a woven basket-body with soft bedding, a retractable sunshade, and most importantly – these strange "soft rims" that dampened vibration.

However, there were shortcomings, and it was imperfect. These "rims" wore out quickly, the fabric parts could tear easily, and the primitive braking system emitted a disgusting squeak, rarely, but failed. Another problem with the basket itself, where Flamme would lie: it's tightly woven and stuffed for softness, and in the rain that… would be bad. No waterproofing, and overall, due to the heavy construction, the stroller easily got stuck in loose soil. Not their fault – just no suitable materials.

Metal pipes with cavities would be an ideal frame, but there aren't any and won't be, judging by the meager metal supplies. Had to make do with wood, varnished against rot. Another problem… well… obvious… uh… sounds. Sometimes too loud. But for now, this prototype was the best. Needed more refinement.

***

The final model was ready for Flamme's birthday. They managed the sound issue elegantly, but not the waterproofing. For that, they'd need to impregnate the fabric with fat, but a child probably wouldn't like the smell. And the weight became less, but not significantly. Still got stuck on loose spots, but not as much as before. Solved the brake problem – now almost no sounds.

And so, the birthday arrived. As usual, the birthday girl sat in the place of honor, food was laid out before her, and on a small cake stood candles.

This cake, honestly, was a stack of pancakes layered with berry syrup. And some fruit. Besides that, there was an apple pie and many other things. The candle – Sefi's idea, she specifically noted it several times.

After the meal, they presented her with the stroller, then placed her in it. Mom stood at the handle, dad just watched everything, sitting on a chair, and Sefi knelt right in front of the stroller.

— We all worked on this gift. Do you like it? — She asked, as usual, without opening her mouth. The girl was already smart enough to understand her, probably. She nodded and drawled: "Yeeeeyyy." — Very good. Being happy with gifts is a big sign of good upbringing.

— Waaah!

— That too.

They tried the gift immediately – went outside. The weather was warm, a bit cloudy. The four of them moved forward, led by Frau, humming some song. Mari carefully watched the surroundings, walking a few steps ahead, and Sefi walked beside the stroller, sometimes glancing at the woman, then at the child.

— Seppi! — Their little convoy stopped. The named one looked at the little one, who was stretching her arms out to her and waving them.

— What is it? — She bent down, and then the child grabbed her by the horns. Surprisingly. Mischief? Usually… that's probably not good. But… — You have your birthday today. I forgive you.

— You forgive her an awful lot. — Frau noted with a chuckle. Mari behind them gave a bitter smile, remembering his punishment.

— She's little. — Sefi simply said and remained motionless while the little one in the stroller played with her horns. Didn't feel anything… yeah, nothing. Maybe something stirred inside. But that's… not certain. And it's just a response. A small one. Like a spark.

Flamme pulled her, and naturally, Sefi bent even lower, almost burying her face in the stroller. And then… something stirred. That spark grew bigger. Joy? Euphoria? Maybe something oppressive? Unclear. A flutter inside. And her teeth itch.

The girl grabbed her face and didn't let go

— Up! — that was all she said. And then Sefi first flipped back the stroller's awning, then with both hands, very carefully, took the fiery little one who gave that order. Her hands acted gently but firmly. Accompanied by that same strange feeling – joy? Possibly… possibly. Doesn't know. — On head!

— On head?

And so she seated her on her furry head. Flamme grabbed onto the horns – fortunately, her legs didn't block the view. What a strange choice of seating. Is she a baby crane? And the horns are levers?

— Well, well, did our stroller lose to your head! — Mari let out another laugh, watching his daughter rejoice, sitting on Sefi's head.

And she herself…

Didn't know what she felt

Joy

But different

Different

Strange