otarial Bloodbath on the Prismafield: An Interview That Should Never Have Happened
Luxara’s Prismafield is a spectacle of liquid light, vanishing masks, and contracts with zero shelf life. Amid this fleeting intrigue, we meet galactic notary Xanphyss Heltar, whose job is to impose order on a city where identity and ownership change shape faster than the reflection in a warped showroom window.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Good afternoon, notary Xanphyss Heltar. We’re sitting here among the liquid-crystal bridges of Luxara’s Prismafield. What draws a galactic notary to a place where fixed values are... well... rare?
Xanphyss Heltar Well, values are exactly my specialty. Someone has to make sure all these illusions are legally anchored before they dissipate again. I’m a bit of the only constant here, ironically.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) So you check contracts amid what some might call ‘economic identity theft’? Sounds... challenging.
Xanphyss Heltar Challenging is putting it mildly. Just yesterday I signed four hundred signatures for a single purchase deed, and the buyer had changed their name eight times during the procedure. Yes, it’s exhausting.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Have you ever witnessed a conflict where both parties later denied their own existence?
Xanphyss Heltar Three times last week. It’s a local pastime to throw notaries off track. Luckily, my signet stamp covers post-mortem clauses as well.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) And, uh, how reliable are these masks if your job is to confirm identities?
Xanphyss Heltar They’re worth absolutely nothing. Just yesterday, I notarized a will for a holographic projection mask with seventy-seven heirs-about thirty-two of whom were probably just reflections.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Sorry to interrupt-the neon light is quite distracting. You now appear to have three faces.
Xanphyss Heltar Yes, I feel it too. It’s that duplicator beam from Hall P. Should be illegal. I get all complaints about it, of course.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Don't you ever feel your seal is pointless, since everything here resets every day?
Xanphyss Heltar Pointless? If I signed every pointless thing, I’d be up to my neck in certificates of existence by now.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) You sound a bit... frustrated. Is that always the case or just today?
Xanphyss Heltar Today, Luxara brings my contractual existential doubt to new depths. Tomorrow will likely be different, but I can’t promise-or legally assure-that.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Are there times-maybe a personal weakness-when you long for old-fashioned paper protocols, without glowing shadow entities at the table?
Xanphyss Heltar I dream of paper. I even dream of insoluble ink stains. But here in Luxara, even paper is an illusion leased by the gram.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Let me just ask: has any contract ever actually made you... happy?
Xanphyss Heltar No. And now you’re getting personal. That’s unprofessional, you know.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) It’s not really a professional conversation anymore, is it? You’re dodging half my questions and look like you’re awarding prizes for the most pointless administrative act.
Xanphyss Heltar Naturally. My career consists entirely of pointless acts of administration. Maybe that’s the only certainty Luxara grants me.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Yet you remain, stoically, under all these vanishing towers and shifting contracts. Why?
Xanphyss Heltar Out of habit. And because someone needs to explain to the tax office why this interview failed. Oh, and I’m stuck here with a bipolar surety adhesion contract.
Glix Tersaal (interviewer) Final question. Are you able, right now, to grant me an official release from this disaster?
Xanphyss Heltar Of course. Would you prefer express dissolution or ordinary forgetfulness?