Name Day

A metal companion that grows alongside children and follows them deep into the earth. Its blade once caught the firelight of life. The original silver scabbard is rarely displayed and is more often repurposed as a carving knife. The use of an object depends on the person, and this one proves that well.

A beautiful craft for rituals—a sharp artifact said to conceal souls, marking each instant one wishes to hold onto.

Through hauling barrels of vodka, helping deliver parcels, and putting his hunting skills to good use, the interviewee finally bought it from a small stall.

A handmade trinket kept out of habit. Sometimes gifted to children or friends, or briefly placed somewhere as a marker. Occasionally used as a vessel for arcane skills during assignments. The interviewee simply refers to it as a consumable.

A child raised in the wild will always carry scars. This gown makes them part of the design.

The colors on it explain the intangibles. Described in words, and it becomes their epitaph, vivid and bright.

Once a simple bone ornament, later decorated as it passed through generations. To the current holder, it carries a heavy burden of expectation.

Left by the eldest sister to the youngest, passed on as a keepsake to their brother, and finally turned into a farewell token—leaving an unseen bruise on the third child. In the end, it is fortunate not to have ended up abandoned in some drawer.

A wood carving, refined by suggestions from an Eastern friend and a countryman, now feels more alive.

Beneath each animal's paw, small names are carved in: Darnell, Leonid, and Drea.

Through carving, memory resists time's slow fade. When the past drifts far enough, memory becomes myth.

If the snow mound can collapse once, then it can collapse again. And again.

Change and upheaval teach people to keep their distance from unreadable prophecies, only to push them further into the current. A few manage to keep hold of the reins of their horses, tempering their lives for the sake of another unreadable, elusive word: freedom.

To the children struggling to get by, the wild hares darting through the woods mattered more than the occasional news from town. Back then, "a life adrift" was just a phrase, it carried no weight and held no meaning for them. There were so many languages and words to name the world before them, yet not a single one could describe the world as it was. Long before they could make sense of what was unfolding around them, he and his siblings had already seen how the fire came to an end.

"What do you see, Lyonya?" his brother asks, mimicking ataman-like solemnity. He sets down his knife and buries the half-carved wood in the snow, staring into the distance.

The eyes of the birch trees gazed back in silence. The snow reflected the blinding light of the sun.

"Nothing. Just snow."

It was just an endless, eternal field of snow.

*This excerpt comes from archived surveillance footage inside the Far East Division's storeroom.

14:03:51

Visitor count: 1. No abnormalities.

14:05:27

Items removed from Aisle A, Row 3, Slot 06, and Aisle D, Row 7, Slot 01.

Reason listed: routine maintenance. Verified. Logged accordingly.

15:08:36

Items returned.

Historical context updated. Logged.

15:11:25

Visitor sits at long table and begins carving. Common behavior. No warning issued.

19:36:07

Visitor departs.

23:19:05

Visitor count: 1. No abnormalities. Visitor carries alcohol.

Footage clipped and stored for two weeks due to safety risk.

23:28:09

Visitor resumes carving at the long table.

01:19:56

Anomalous entities detected. Confirmed to be arcane skill effects.

Five wooden, animal-shaped targets. No threat detected.

04:21:03

Visitor leaves with empty bottle.

Pandora Wilson: The stories you've shared are all fascinating. Some I've never even heard before.

Pandora Wilson: But since UTTU isn't exactly a myth anthology, I'd still like you to answer some questions about yourself.

Name Day: I'm sorry to disappoint. but as you'd expect, fieldwork at the foundation tends to be uneventful—and the confidentiality clause keeps me from saying too much.

Name Day: Collecting stories really is a part of my life, ma'am.

Pandora Wilson: Then let's stick with that topic.

Pandora Wilson: Right now, this very moment—what's the first story that comes to your mind?

Name Day: Oh, it's an old one, about a soul hidden in the tip of a needle, sealed inside an egg, and the egg swallowed by some clever creature … like a nested doll, layered for safety.

Pandora Wilson: Sounds like you admire that level of security.

Name Day: No. Quite the opposite, actually. I think the protagonist in this story is far too obsessed with the idea of "immortality."

Pandora Wilson: Eternal life and immortality are common themes. I'm curious what you think about them. As you said earlier, you collect stories and objects that serve as vessels for these concepts. In a way, that's your method of testing why they last and endure.

Pandora Wilson: Do you believe eternal things truly exist?

Name Day: Sometimes.