Chapter 10

Those Who Wait, and Those Who Never Return -dice in pot- 1. Time Since Then He’d heard that the end of the hallway on the second floor was leaking recently. When he went to go see for himself, he saw how it might need a little handiwork. Since they’d need to call in someone from town later for proper repairs, all he had to do now was just some emergency fixing up. He needed some wooden boards and— “—Hey, you know where the hammer is?” When he turned around to ask, no one was there. Puzzled, he tilted his head. There was a girl with hair the color of the cerulean-blue sky who had constantly been by his side recently. Her presence had become normal for him. Thinking she should have been nearby, he called out to her. But— “Chtholly?” He called her name, but there was no response. Slowly, a feeling of unease welled up in his chest. “Ithea? Ren?” He called the names of Chtholly’s two close friends, but still, no answer. He put the repairs for the leak on hold and went to go look for them. He walked around the building, from one side of the first-floor hallway to the other. His search took him through the reading room, the recreation room, training gear storage, the kitchen, and the dining hall. He went up to the second floor, meticulously checking each and every area. He went outside. He walked through the forest. He searched the swamp. Heading even to the town, he peered inside every shop. The bookstore. The watchmaker. The projection house. The accessory shop. The café. The butcher. They were nowhere. Nowhere to be found. He drew aside some faeries he spotted and asked them. But all their answers were the same: I haven’t seen them. I don’t know who that is. I don’t know. Just as he cocked his head, puzzled, someone tapped him on his shoulder from behind. He turned around, and there was a tall troll woman—Nygglatho, smiling sadly at him. “You need to accept it already,” she said, her voice gentle. “Those girls are dead.” Huh? “You won’t find those girls anywhere anymore.” Impossible. What was she talking about? Regule Aire was, quite often, in danger of being on the verge of destruction. With relative frequency, intruders from the wasteland below would be carried in by the wind. In order to fight back against them, the residents needed to rely on ancient superweapons, which could be activated and used in combat only by faeries who had the forms and hearts of young girls. The entirety of the island cluster’s destiny rested on the girls’ tiny shoulders. It was a twisted, precarious world with an uncertain future. “Have you forgotten? They were sent off to battle.” He remembered. He could never forget. But he’d promised. Once she came home, he’d listen to anything she had to say. When he told her to come back alive, she smiled and replied, “Leave it to me.” That was why she had to. “You should get used to it soon. This is the natural course of things in this world.” It was a gentle voice, one for calming a disobedient child. He followed Nygglatho’s gaze and found her looking at four little faeries, who had gathered there at some point. The little ones, always running around without a care in the world, now stood in a row, oddly quiet. Forced expressions still on their faces, the four stared straight at him. They each carried familiar-looking swords in their skinny arms. “We’ll be back.” At that moment, a strong wind blew. He unconsciously shielded his eyes with an arm. When he opened his eyes again, the four girls were gone. A single white feather floated down before his eyes from some unknown place. But right as it was about to rest on the ground, another gust of wind came, and the feather was once again carried off into the sky. “You should get used to it.” Nygglatho repeated herself, then simply closed her mouth. Wait. This isn’t funny. He should get used to it. He knew that, but get used to what? Where was Chtholly? Ithea? Nephren? When would they be back? The four girls—Collon, Lakhesh, Pannibal, and Tiat—where were they going with those swords? What were they doing? He could not find the answers to his questions. Of course, even if he did, there was no way he could accept them. Not even if he was being told he was only running from the truth, even if he was scolded for throwing a tantrum like a child. “Face reality.” No. Stop. Don’t say that to me. If that was reality, then he no longer wanted to see it. So Willem closed his eyes, plugged his ears, and began to recite the names of generations of Legal Braves to hide from his thoughts. The proper nouns he’d memorized as a child washed away all unnecessary thoughts in his head. Abel Melchera. Torven Schnoll. Vecker the Ruby. The Nameless in Black. “—Twilla Nohten. Wily of the Rusted Blade—” His eyes snapped open. For several seconds, he stared blankly at the ceiling. He looked to the window, spending another few seconds watching how the sunlight poured through from beyond the beige curtains. “Foreigner Nils… Lillia Asplay…” He pushed back the blanket and slowly sat up. He cracked his neck. He spent the rest of his time getting a grasp on the situation, and— “I’m so glad that was just a dream!” His voice wavered behind tears as he cradled his head. Not everything in his dream was a vision. There was no mistaking that Regule Aire stood on thin ice. It was also true that the ones that held up the world were ancient curios and the girls who wielded them. Chtholly, Ithea, Nephren. Three girls had left their home, bound for the site of a harsh battle. And he, Willem Kmetsch, who worked as manager for the faerie soldiers (at least nominally), had seen them off. There was nothing false about that story. One more thing he noticed was how faithfully that dream matched reality. Half a month had passed since the battle began. The girls still had not come home. 2. On This Side of the Silver Screen Two giant lizards stood facing each other, enveloped in a heavy mood. One of the lizards was well built, wearing a military uniform with a stiff collar. Judging by the design, this one was male—a guy, rather. Judging by the elegant dress the other wore, it could be surmised that one was a lady. They were silent, not exchanging a single word. Behind them stood a row of old, historic stone buildings. The two stood on the arched bridge that crossed over the waterways cutting through the city. The sun had long since set. The faint light from the gas lamps illuminated the pair against the darkness. There was no trace of another human soul—well, no, of course there wasn’t—but without a sign of any other person, it was almost as though the entire world itself had disappeared, leaving only these two behind. The lizard guy’s tongue flitted out from his mouth. The lizard lady’s round eyes peeled back in surprise. Some communication of intent had been conveyed just like that. The two gently drew closer together, feeling each other’s warmth—was that a thing these cold-blooded creatures did? What happened next made it seem as though they were being considerate of the pair’s romantic rendezvous. The light from the gas lamps flickered, then finally went out. The dark of night spread, gently enveloping the two lovers. Then the story came to a quiet close— Tink. Once the day’s performance was over, light from the illuminating crystals filled the projection room. “Hmm.” Pannibal nodded, as though she understood. “Ooh.” Collon seemed somewhat impressed. “Wow…” Tiat’s eyes glistened. “…” Lakhesh’s mouth was agape. It was actually shocking how the little ones, who always ran around the faerie warehouse (the name of their lodgings) with such energy, had become quietly engrossed in the story, each expressing a different emotion. Willem sat beside them, pressing against his temples as he fought a slight headache. (…I have no idea what’s going on…) He knew, at least, that the projection he just watched was some kind of love story. But he couldn’t understand anything more than that. In love stories, the audience should be able to empathize with one of the characters or at least enjoy it by admiring the beautiful cast of men and women. But this was a strange rendering where all the characters were lizardfolk, so the hurdles for both forms of appreciation were a little too high. The wall between races was truly a thick one. Just as the name implied, recording crystals were a special sort of quartz that could grab a clip of the surrounding scenery and record it. Depending on the classification and precision of the cut, purity, and size of the stones themselves, the accuracy and amount of what could be projected changed. By shining light with similar direction and wavelength, the recorded scene could be projected outward. By changing the angle even slightly, it was also possible to choose what images were projected, and when applying this logic, it was also possible to move the series of recorded imagery realistically during playback. The necessary equipment wasn’t that expensive, so it was possible to install anything medium size and under in projection houses in town—it was all rather interesting. Well, the technical stuff wasn’t really important. What mattered was that this technology existed on Regule Aire, and the recorded projection culture borne from it was spreading. If the local projection house had all the right recording crystals, anyone could watch a performance they wanted to see without having to go all the way to a playhouse in the big city. The performances didn’t have any sound, and the picture wasn’t exactly clear, but at the very least, they existed. Performances played a major role in the spread of fiction within Regule Aire, but— He exited the projection house, dragging the four little ones along. “That was wonderful!” Tiat exclaimed, the air sparkling around her. “Adults!” Collon exclaimed nonsensically. “Mm-hmm!” Pannibal huffed, squaring her shoulders. “One day, I also…” Lakhesh swooned, gazing into space. Willem was the only one to sigh, his shoulders drooping. It hadn’t been very long since these girls had been “born” as faeries. Since they looked and acted like children no older than ten, when they wanted to visit the projection house, Willem was required to go along as their caretaker. And that was how he had ended up accompanying the four girls. “I’m exhausted…” The outward appearance of the leprechaun girls was similar to the so-called featureless. They had no horns or fangs or scales or animal ears, and they bore a striking resemblance to the emnetwiht who once flourished on the surface. The only difference was that most of them had vividly colored hair and eyes. So why did they feel this way after watching a lizard love story? Perhaps it was their gender. Or their age. Or the difference in their generations. Or maybe everyone born on Regule Aire naturally enjoyed such things, and he was the only exception. Ugh, there is no decency left in this world. “Um, is something the matter?” He heard a considerate voice from somewhere below him. Lakhesh was staring up at him, likely thinking something was wrong. “Cheer up, Willie!” The moment he thought something would come hurtling at his back, Collon’s short arms and legs clambered swiftly up his right elbow and onto his shoulder. She was truly deft with that small body of hers. “Yah! You gotta have guts! Guts!” “Hmm, if you go for the carotid artery, you’ll be golden.” “S-s-s-stop! Collon, come down quickly, and Pannibal, stop egging her on like that!” Yes, Lakhesh was a good kid. And Collon and Pannibal were bad kids. Well, it was important for children to be energetic, so in that sense, they were all good kids. By the way, that move really hurt, so how am I going to get her off? His mind, still faintly hurting, was blank as he thought about that. …Just then, he felt someone’s eyes staring into his back, and he turned to the last girl. “Tiat, what’s wrong?” “Huh?” “Thinking about something?” She seemed surprised for a moment, as though she wasn’t expecting him to call to her. “Well, um… I was just thinking that maybe, the reason you’ve been so down lately, is because of our seniors…” “Your seniors? Oh, you mean Chtholly and the others?” “Y-yeah.” That was interesting. It was a little odd to use the word seniors when referring to people who were essentially family. But these faeries were still members of the Guard—more precisely, they were military assets. While they greatly differed individually, it wasn’t odd for them to show they held some sort of respect for their elders. “Well, sure, I guess so,” he answered honestly, thinking there was no reason for him to hide it. “Huh?” For some reason, Tiat raised her voice in surprise. “It actually makes me anxious. I even had a weird dream this morning because they haven’t come back.” “Even in your dreams?!” “Whoa…” Tiat (and, for some reason, Lakhesh) were dazzled. They made the same faces as in the projection house, watching the lizard love story. “…Wait, come on, guys. What are you thinking?” “So you’ve been hiding your pain while waiting for your beloved to return?” “Wow… Adult love…” He had no idea what they were talking about. “Ooh, a happy adult!” “A sincere confession in the middle of traffic. You’re brave, Manager.” He was even less sure of what the last two were talking about. But more importantly, his captive right arm was really starting to hurt. “—It’s normal to be worried about your family. Love and whatever isn’t something to act so arrogant over. Aren’t you worried about them at all?” “Why?” “What do you mean, why?” “Even if we weren’t worried, they would come home safely. And if it ends up they can’t come back, then worrying won’t solve anything,” Tiat declared. Oh—right. These girls were faeries. Lives meant to be consumed for war. And maybe because of that, they weren’t particularly attached to their lives. Did that indifferent way of thinking apply not only to their own lives but to the lives of other races? (I’m guessing Chtholly broke that pattern, in a way.) She said she didn’t want to die. Though she hadn’t put it into words, her attitude told him she didn’t want to expose the adorable little ones to danger. In Willem’s eyes, Chtholly’s fear was a good thing. That way of life felt much more “emnetwiht-like” than even Willem himself, who couldn’t see any value in continuing to live in this world. He hadn’t realized it, but the reason why he ended up supporting her might have been because of that. “That’s not what worrying is about.” Since he couldn’t move his right arm, he twisted his body to place his left hand on Tiat’s head. “You’ll understand soon enough.” “H-hey! Don’t treat me like a child!” “At the very least, Chtholly was worried. About you.” “…She was? Why?” “Because she’s an adult, I’d think. More than you are, at least.” Tiat puffed her cheeks up in a huff. “Fine! Then we’ll worry about them, too!” She faced the blue sky, shouting a declaration that didn’t really hit the mark. “Yeah!!” Collon cheered, like she didn’t quite understand. “Good luck,” Pannibal chimed in, seeming like it didn’t matter much to her. “Adults… So Miss Chtholly really is an adult in Mr. Willem’s eyes…” Lakhesh swooned as she murmured something to herself. He would pretend he didn’t hear that. “—Er, Collon. My ligaments and stuff feel like they’re about to break. Get off.” “I haven’t heard you cry uncle yet!” “Ohhh, uncle, uncle.” “Woo!” Slip. Collon jumped down lightly. A cold wind blew through the town. His body was shivering ever so slightly, unbeknownst to him. The sky was high above them, a few clouds here and there. The seasons were slowly beginning to change. The facilities were deep in the forest on Island No. 68. They were lodgings big enough for almost fifty people to live together, judging by appearances. It was a two-story wooden building that felt quite old. Right beside it was a tiny, well-groomed vegetable patch and flower bed. A little ways away was a recreational field, a bit on the small side. On paper, this was a “warehouse” meant for storing the Guard’s secret weapons. No one was supposed to live here outside of the bare minimum number of personnel needed to manage the assets. Of course, “supposed to” meant that wasn’t the case in reality. More than thirty faeries lived their daily lives here. The girls, who were nothing but objects on paper, were living their days so full of energy and cheer that it was impossible to think they were nothing but weapons. On the roof of the “warehouse,” a large bunch of laundry fluttered on the clothesline. “—Oooh, the weather is looking bad.” A woman was glancing up at the sky, holding to her chest a sheet she’d just taken off the line. “Hello, you delicious being. If you have nothing better to do, why don’t you help me?” “I’ll help, so stop calling me that.” “What! It’s the highest compliment among my people!” “You all need to study the official language of the island cluster from scratch, right now.” As Willem responded with a joke, he lifted the woven basket that sat beside him and began to place the closest articles of laundry into it. There was a slight dampness to the wind. The rain was approaching. “Boo. I feel like you’ve been rude to trolls lately, Willem.” The woman puffed her cheeks like a small child. His cheek twitched slightly when he saw how much it suited her. Nygglatho was one of the “bare minimum number of personnel needed to stay to manage the assets” mentioned earlier. She looked to be about twenty. She was tall, her eye level roughly the same as that of Willem, a man. She was also a bit girlie, as she preferred to wear cute aprons and frilly dresses. And of course, she wasn’t a faerie. Just as she said herself, she was a troll. A massive, demonic race that lived as neighbors to people, exchanged smiles with them, and happily devoured them. “Don’t say it like it’s a joke. I’ve been rude to you since the day I met you.” “How awful! What should I think of a man who says that seriously?” Ash-colored clouds began to spread faintly in the sky. They should hurry. They piled more sheets onto the mountain of laundry that spilled from the basket. “You don’t have to worry. You’re the only person in this entire world right now who I can act like this around.” “Hmm. That was a strange pickup line. I think my heart just skipped a beat.” “I’ll say it again—you and all your people need to go relearn the official language of this island cluster.” “Boo! But you talk to Chtholly and the others so nicely!” Plop—a single raindrop left a gray smudge by his feet. “Come on, move your hands not your mouth.” “I know, I know!” They rushed around, taking down the laundry. The rain poured as if from an overturned bucket. Dark clouds that seemingly came from nowhere covered the entire sky. Though it was still early in the day, it was as dark as night outside. “Just in time. We would’ve had to wash everything all over again if we took any longer.” They’d finished putting away the laundry and were now on their way to Nygglatho’s room, upon her suggestion to take a tea break. “And what is it you need?” Nygglatho suddenly asked as she lit the fireplace. “Huh?” “Didn’t you come to me on the roof because you needed something?” “Oh…” Now that she mentioned it, she was right. “Well…I was just thinking, shouldn’t we be hearing whether or not they’re all right at some point soon?” “Oh, you mean Chtholly and the others?” That was exactly right. He nodded silently. “I believe I heard this fight would take exceptionally long.” “I heard that, too, but it’s been two weeks! Aren’t we going to hear anything, like if they’re okay or how much longer it’ll take?” “No.” “Why the immediate response?!” “Why? Well, that’s just the way it is… Do you wish to hear the details?” He sat down silently in the chair she motioned to with her gaze. She began to place the tea set, which seemed to magically appear from thin air, on the small table. “You know about the girls’ enemy, Timere, yes?” “Only a bit from documents. Its properties are unknown, a tenacious thing, and its size and strength are in direct proportion.” “Yes. It is so tenacious because it grows and divides so quickly. No matter how much we kill, it uses its own corpse as a shield and creates a new self from the insides that aren’t dead yet. Not only that, but it actually gets a little stronger every time. Still, if they’re fighting against its small pieces as they always do, then it will reach its division limit if they persevere and kill every piece at least ten times. But the size of it now could easily exceed two hundred layers, so that will take some time.” Of course, the girls wouldn’t be fighting twenty-four hours straight every day. They would come fully prepared, knowing it would be a long battle. A large number of the stalwart lizardfolk artillery forces would be accompanying the faeries in order to buy them time to rest. So while it was tempting to just tell the muscly lizards to fight on their own, the enemy could not be substantially damaged if not for the faeries equipped with the Carillon, and since that was the very reason the faeries existed in the first place, there was not much that could change that. “Since we’ve decided not to have Chtholly open the gates to the faerie homeland, it’s only a question of whether they can keep fighting until they’ve dismantled the final shell. However, there is no way to tell how many layers of shells there are or how many they’ve destroyed so far. That is why there is no telling how much longer the fight will last.” Nygglatho continued, stating lightly that it would end someday, and that since they had managed to dominate it with basic firepower, then the odds weren’t too bad. “Then they should at least notify us if they’re still okay.” “They’ve covered the area with layered control encampments, so without airships flying, communication crystals won’t work, either. And on top of that, the air currents around the area are irregular, so the option of having winged races do some work is also out. The most we can do is confirm from a very far distance that the fight is still going on.” Nygglatho fiddled with her red hair, twirling it around the tip of her finger. “Well, that’s apparently why we receive no contact when the girls are fighting. I asked almost the exact same things you did when I first came here. And the answer I got was almost just the same as I’ve told you. Is there anything else you want to ask?” “…No.” He dropped his shoulders. “You look awfully calm about this right now. You used to it?” Nygglatho sighed deeply. “Not entirely. My heart is pounding. I haven’t had any appetite.” He would have been overjoyed to hear that if he took it out of context. “But no matter why, the elders shouldn’t be the first to panic while the littlest ones are just going about their business, yes?” “Well, sure.” The kettle on the fire began to steam. He watched Nygglatho out of the corner of his eye as she ran about preparing the tea and muttered sullenly, “I’d no idea doing nothing but waiting would be this hard.” Nygglatho painted a grin over her worried expression. “Glick told me you were saying such slick things at first. That you trusted the children, so you would accept whatever outcome.” “Not just at first. I haven’t changed my mind since then. But…I didn’t think it’d take this long back then. I’m not uneasy or depressed or anything. I’m just…starting to worry.” “Just starting to worry?” “Just starting to worry. Something wrong with that?” “Nothing wrong or right, it just feels like your cool and enigmatic character image is starting to fall apart again.” A pensive look crossed her face. “Oh—I see; I understand. You’re actually the type who can’t put up a tough front unless it’s your own territory, correct?” “Gh—” “That is why you don’t know what to do in situations you’re not used to and can only run about in confusion. You’re quite the stereotype of a boy who has no confidence in himself.” “Urgh—” That was a terrible way to put it, but sadly, he couldn’t argue. Nygglatho folded her arms on the desk and rested her chin on top. “—So flustered and overwhelmed. I’m having so much fun just watching you right now,” she said, casually gouging out his heart. “You’re a demon.” “I am a demon. You were mean to me earlier, so this is my payback.” The troll teasingly stuck out her tongue. “Let me just say this while you’re treating me like a demon, but if you stay idle at times like these, your mind will never stop racing in circles. One way to deal with it is to change your environment or even overwhelm yourself with things to do.” “Hmm. I know your motives. You want me to ask for work, don’t you?” “That is correct.” The demon grinned, satisfied. Willem thought. Though there was a joking manner to their conversation, there was some truth in what the demon woman said. Continuing to worry about Chtholly and the others itself wasn’t a bad thing. But he had originally planned to spend his days like he always had. And so, he was going to wait for them, just as his family had waited for him to come home, back at the now long-gone orphanage. Then there was some value in going along with this plan. So that he may wait, immovable, for them to come home. “Fine. What are you going to make me do?” When he responded as such, Nygglatho clapped her hands together. “It’s a little far, but there’s somewhere I want you to visit,” she said. 3. Ancient Cities and Ancient People Tiat had a dream. She was in a place she had never been, looking at scenery she had never seen, talking to someone she had never met. That kind of dream. No one would think this odd from that alone. Dreams were often like this. If one could dream about actual events, then one could also dream of strange, illogical fantasies. But for the faeries, it was a different story. It was almost like they knew it was a special dream the moment they opened their eyes. Without rhyme or reason, they strongly believed it was fundamentally different from normal dreams, where being warm, being scared, having fun, being sad left no marks on the real world. And they knew it was an omen. She said it was just a little far. Now that he thought about it, he should have checked with her then. How far did a little mean, exactly? He left the island, transferred airships several times, and spent almost a full day in the air. Just as he was on the brink of exhaustion from traveling all day, Willem finally reached his destination. Island No. 11, the city of Collina di Luce. It smelled like stone. That was the first thing he noticed when he exited the airship gangway. More specifically, it smelled like stone and brick that held a long history, like cobbled streets that had been stepped on for years, like the people who lived there, like the wind that blew through the town. There was a market square right by the aire-port. It was apparently the market day, and he could see weathered canvas tents lined neatly in a row. Beyond it was a townscape of vivid reddish-browns and grayish-whites. Various races of people passed through the town in relatively equal numbers. If he had to pick, it did seem like there were more lycanthropes than others, but even that was nothing more than a hunch. He also caught glimpses of other featureless like Willem himself. It didn’t seem like there was any need to conceal himself with hoods or hats. “…Wow.” He unwittingly made a sound in admiration. “That’s a surprise. It’s way more like an ancient city than I imagined.” He’d heard stories about it. With a history of more than four hundred years, it was the oldest city in Regule Aire. It was an unusual place that, in all its time, had never been exposed to the fires of war or been destroyed by invaders from the surface. That being said, Regule Aire was in the sky to begin with. Elves would never come attacking from the woods nearby, nor would a sudden surge of orcs come from beyond the horizon. There were no worrying dragons, who spent their idle time burning down houses, and the dreadful Visitors who declared the purge of the entire emnetwiht race were no longer around. By this point in time, nearly everyone had experienced the fires of war. Also, being in the sky meant that materials were limited. Quarrying stones from the islands, in particular, would essentially mean they were cutting away at the very land they lived on. Naturally, building stone became a comparatively expensive construction material. And a stone-built town used up more than what met the eye. That was why when he heard this was the oldest among the most prominent cities in Regule Aire, he glossed over it, thinking it was nothing compared to the cities that once existed on the surface. It looked like he was going to have to think over how he’d scorned it. A golem that looked like a barrel had sprouted arms and legs ran about restlessly, carrying a wooden crate. Willem stopped to make way for it so they wouldn’t crash, and after a brief “Thank you,” it hurried off. Towns thriving in tourism and trade really were a bit different if they were even adding amiability to their golems’ artificial intelligence. As he thought about this and that, he began to walk. “Wha—?” When he noticed his traveling companion wasn’t by his side, he whirled around. “—Wooooow—” There stood Tiat, at the top of the airship gangway, the air around her glittering. Her mouth hung wide open, a mixed expression of delight, surprise, and awe on her face. As if it weren’t enough, she had entirely spaced out. “Hey, c’mon. Let’s go,” he called to her, but she didn’t respond. Her consciousness had flown off elsewhere. “Hey.” He went back up to her and flicked her forehead with his finger. “Ow!!” “Let’s get going. I’m tired from sitting and traveling all day. Don’t make me work.” “B-but this is Island No. 11!! The city of Collina di Luce!! The real thing!!” “Uh, yeah.” “A place of history! The jewel box of the azure sky! The melting pot of romance and legend!” She was talking passionately about something. A melting what? “There are so many stories that use this city as a setting!” “You’ve been acting like this everywhere we’ve gone since we left No. 68. Every single time we’ve had to transfer, you look around so dazzled like this.” “That’s because I’ve never left the island before… No! This island and this city are special! An exception!” She insisted frantically as she broke into a jog and caught up with Willem. He felt the eyes of the surrounding people gathering on them. The alienating looks given to featureless— No, gentle, appreciative gazes for a heartwarming family outing. They must have been looking at them like a brother and sister from an island on the outskirts who were visiting the city for the first time. Well, that interpretation wasn’t entirely wrong. Those girls lived in such a small world, and their universes were limited to the things they saw in books and projections. She probably couldn’t help getting so excited just by leaving the island. Not only that, but this place apparently set the stage for some of her favorite stories. He sort of understood why she was in such high spirits. “Okay, let’s go. We didn’t come here to sightsee, y’know.” He sort of understood, but they would get nowhere even if he did respect it. “Awww, let me indulge a little bit—come on!!” He tugged on her small hand and began to walk. Her chuckle tickled his back. He thought he was used to being so conspicuous, but for some reason, he just couldn’t stand this atmosphere. “Ooh, h-hey, can we see that up close?!” “…What?” Tiat was gazing at a large plaza, a fountain, and— “The statue of the great sage of Falcita Memorial Plaza!” Standing majestically in the center was the statue of an old man. “Yeah, but…” He narrowed his eyes and observed the statue. The old man wore an intrepid expression and a hood over his head. While it might be something artistic, Willem had always been clueless about that sort of stuff. He never really understood emnetwiht art, so there was no way he could ever assess art made by other races. He could have at least made some sort of comment from a man’s point of view if it was a female statue, but since it was of an old man, he couldn’t. “What is that?” “It’s a bronze statue of the person who founded this town a long time ago and a classic rendezvous spot for lovers! It sets the stage for so many stories!” “Stage?” “Like, in the last scene of The Stars and Wind of Collina di Luce, Rustnose was eating fried potatoes, remember?” It sounded like Tiat wasn’t interested in the statue for its artistic value. “I heard a legend that if two lovers give their vows for eternal love before the statue, then they’ll be happy for five years…” “That doesn’t sound like a very great legend.” Though they’re supposed to be vowing for eternity, what would happen on their sixth year together? No, that doesn’t matter right now. “No sightseeing. Don’t forget—you came here for a mission.” “Urgh…” That sounded like it was enough to remind her of her position. She lowered her left arm, which she had been waving about in excitement, and dropped her shoulders, too. “You’re going to be a great faerie soldier one day, like Chtholly.” “Oh, yeah. That’s…right. I didn’t forget.” She turned her gaze downward, wriggled her right hand free from Willem’s grasp, and walked off, dragging her feet. “Let’s go.” Willem stopped in his tracks. Tiat took ten steps before turning around to look at him. “What is it?” “Well…our airship back is scheduled for tomorrow evening.” “And? So?” “Once our mission is finished, I’m sure there’ll be time to take a bit of a walk around.” “…” It didn’t seem like she understood right away what he meant. Slowly but surely, Tiat’s mopey expression transformed into a big, bright smile. She trotted the ten steps back to Willem and snatched his hand. “C’mon, no dillydallying!” Yes, my lady, I know. He bit back his smile and let her lead the way. Shiver. Suddenly, a small, odd sensation caressed the back of his neck. It was a familiar feeling, reminding him of when he worked as a Quasi Brave on the surface. (…Spite…?) It wasn’t from just a single source. Several people harbored animosity toward several others. A faint tension, characteristic of the moments just before a dispute, filled the air. That being said, the scale wasn’t that big, and they weren’t the targets of the animosity. “What’s wrong?” “Hmm? Oh, nothing.” Even in this place, a peaceful tourist spot at first glance—or perhaps because it was a peaceful tourist spot at first glance—lurked the seeds of trouble. (Well… Whatever…) He wasn’t in the business of going out of his way to deal with troubles that weren’t headed in their direction. He decided to let it go and let himself be led through the city. No one could stand up to the Beasts that were destroying the world without a Carillon. However, only emnetwiht chosen by the Carillon could use them. And before even the question of whether or not one was chosen, the emnetwiht as a race were wiped out centuries ago. So the Beasts could not be stopped. The world was ending. People were not apt to take such simple logic lying down. The emnetwiht no longer existed? Then they should simply use a replacement. There was a race that could do that. There was a small natural phenomenon that lived near emnetwiht since time immemorial, used emnetwiht tools, and helped with emnetwiht work. Things born from the souls of children who died young, as a result of not understanding their own deaths and wandering astray through this world. Those in the old world were said to take the form of little people no taller than knee-height, but those born in this world took a more human form—specifically, that of young girls. The reasons for such a change were unknown, but it was the perfect form to make them use weapons. And even with this different form, it was likely that their true nature always remained the same: To stay by the emnetwiht’s side. To help them. To follow in their steps and copy their work. They were born for such purposes and would disappear for such purposes. “…However, it isn’t that every single faerie is able to use dug weapons. While it seems all of them have the proper makeup itself, they won’t bloom if they’re too young.” “Huh.” His neck hurt. The man sitting before him was a giant. His broad figure, more than double Willem’s size, was bursting with muscle. He was also bald, had fangs, and wore a lab coat, and the single eye behind his (probably custom-made) black-rimmed glasses glittered intelligently—and his title was Doctor. “This is a general clinic owned by Orlandry. Regule Aire’s best equipment and medicine are located here. Faeries who dream of omens come here, and we carry out adjustments to their bodies so that they may fight as mature faerie soldiers. Dug weapons are rare, and our foes are mighty. Nothing good comes from forcing a faerie to hold a sword and pushing them to their limit when their body isn’t ready.” His voice was soft and gentle, and he spoke logically. His physique, on the other hand, was nothing but monstrous. Willem just couldn’t wipe away his unease. “…So where’s Tiat now?” The ceiling in the room was exceedingly high, probably built to accommodate the doctor’s body. Willem thought absentmindedly that this was how it must feel for cats and dogs living in a human-size world. “She is undergoing her physical examination right now. The female doctors are taking care of it in the other room.” “And so why is it that you, her attending physician, are just sitting around here?” “I leave all work that can be done by others to others. Anything else, I’ll do personally. Right now, I want to talk to you, Willem Kmetsch.” Willem cocked his eyebrow. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. “No, no, no. No need to be so cautious.” The giant doctor waved both hands. “I didn’t find out about you by any suspicious means; I simply heard the story from Ny’s letter.” Ny? …Oh, Nygglatho. “Those are some really suspicious means, don’t you think?” “Now that you mention it, it certainly seems that way.” So he agreed. Willem felt a little bad for Nygglatho saying it out loud. “Anyway, you—” From far away, he could hear a faint explosion that cut off the giant’s words. It repeated three times at roughly even intervals. “A gun?” “Sounds like it. Probably the Annihilation Knights.” “…Sorry. I’m not really used to the official language, so I didn’t hear you very well. The what?” “Annihilation Knights.” “What kind of knights are those? That sounds like the name of someone who got a little too reckless in their youth and came to regret it five years later.” “It’s a group of young people who act out here and there because they aren’t satisfied with the current mayor’s policies. They’ve merely declared themselves as knights, but their backers are members of former nobility, so they’re surprisingly legitimate.” “Huh.” I see. That’s where the animosity I felt earlier was coming from. “Either way, there’s nothing calm about guns. Is it like the friction between progressives and reactionaries?” “Something like that. This was a semifer city a long time ago, but they had strong territorial tendencies. They insist that the history of this town is also their history and don’t think it a very good thing to interact with other races.” “Wow.” History. History, huh? He recalled the people who lived in the capital in the world long ago. Though it only had a history just short of two hundred years, the majority of the people who lived there were proud of, or rather attached to, their city. “—Pride is essentially the same as arrogance. You prove your worth by associating yourself with something of value. That self-satisfaction can make you stronger. “You hear it a lot: Medicine can be poison depending on how you use it; the same is true of the reverse. “Pride is no different. It can be beautiful or ugly depending on how you use it. You oughtta drill that into that head of yours, since luckily or not, you happened to be born to a noble house.” He brushed away his master’s words that started recounting in his head. Everything he said sounded like that, and it clung to the corners of his mind, refusing to go away. Those words were meant for his other student in the first place, and he had just stood by her, listening. “Tradition may as well mean nothing in a city where you hear gunfire in the middle of the day.” “It’s not uncommon that intentions don’t match up in larger organizations. And surprisingly, the higher-ups might not think it a problem if outsiders will stop getting close.” “I see.” It sounded plausible, so he nodded honestly after a moment of thought. “Four hundred years of history is probably nothing to you, who’s lived for more than five hundred.” The giant doctor, seemingly unsure of how to handle a moment’s silence, made a strange remark. “…I spent five hundred years doing absolutely nothing; you can’t call that history. I’m not arrogant enough to compare the two.” “Such modesty.” “Bragging about how long you overslept is just shameful. And…” He faltered. “And— Yes?” The giant pressed him on with a smile. A cyclops’s smile was frightening. It was enough to make any child cry and, at worst, would probably scar them for life. Willem wasn’t a child, nor was he afraid, and yet— “…It’s nothing.” He waved his hand, dodging the issue. “Hmm?” The giant’s single eye narrowed, as though trying to peer into Willem’s mind. “Well, sure. Regule Air must be like a dream world to you. It would not be strange if you felt disjointed from reality, as if everything seemed manufactured. It may not mean much for you to hear this world is four hundred years old.” “I didn’t say that!” “I see. My apologies, then.” He shook his giant body lightly with a shrug. There was a knock at the door, and a lizardfolk wearing a lab coat entered the room. Out of all the races, the lizardfolk had the greatest variance in individual physique, but this one was a little on the small side. The short lizardfolk gave Willem a slight bow, handed the giant a number of documents, then left the room. “…The results of Tiat’s examination are here.” “Can I ask?” “Of course you may. Let’s see…” He adjusted his glasses. He read it aloud along with his notes. Basically, her physical development was appropriate for her age, and her health was excellent. The only problems were the heavy burden on her digestive system from drinking too much milk and that several teeth seemed to be at risk of developing cavities. “I’ll tell her to be more careful,” Willem responded, rubbing his temple with his finger. A few things came to mind. Tiat would exclaim at every opportunity, “I’m gonna grow!” and down an entire glass of milk in one gulp—and each time, she would end up coughing and spluttering. She also had a bigger sweet tooth than the average person. It was incredibly embarrassing to be confronted with this again. “Even the encroachment from her previous life, which was our biggest concern, has stalled at a low level. Yes, I believe she will be a wonderful faerie soldier.” “…Encroachment?” “Yes, encroachment. Without exception, all the girls are reincarnated beings, or rather, souls of the deceased themselves. They were someone else before being born into their current form. It can have grave influences on their personality and physical body when those memories remain or if they recall them.” Willem found himself perplexed at how smoothly the man gave the explanation before there was even a chance to think about accepting the explanation itself. “That’s more in the territory of ritual magic than medicine, isn’t it? Are medical staff nowadays dabbling in necromancy, too?” “All knowledge that can help in a patient’s recovery is medicine. Right?” the doctor said, the corners of his mouth lifting. That was apparently a joke. “Well, you won’t need to worry about rituals, especially when it comes to Tiat. She’ll stay herself. She’s in good condition.” “Fine, then.” —Something’s not right. He felt slightly uneasy, like a small bone was caught in his throat. But he didn’t know why. It sounded like he would have to leave Tiat at the clinic for a full day so they could adjust her physical properties appropriately for the purpose of one day becoming a faerie soldier. Willem must have looked blatantly uneasy when they told him they would be medicating her and using hypnosis. “No need to worry—it won’t hurt her. All faerie soldiers compatible with dug weapons have walked this path before.” When he heard that, he knew he couldn’t start raising a fuss over nothing. “I’m gonna grow up splendidly, so you better keep your hopes up!” Tiat gave Willem a thumbs-up with such energy, and he lightly patted her head. “I don’t think you’re gonna grow any taller after adjustment,” he whispered to her. “Th-that’s not what I was hoping for! I’m serious!” Her face was bright red as she insisted, and with a smile, he saw her off. A smile he managed, somehow. “I’m gonna grow up splendidly, so you better keep your hopes up!” What are we hoping will happen once she grows up healthy and strong? It’s obvious. She’ll go to the battlefield. Fighting as a weapon, being consumed, and eventually losing all her strength. Being born, raised, and completing her “life” as a weapon. This world is slowly heading toward its doom. My story ended a long time ago. And now, I have a hand in their end. “This isn’t a good thing to think about.” He shook his head lightly and searched for the night’s lodgings. 4. One Outcome After a dreamless sleep, Willem greeted the morning alone. Physically, he was in great shape. But emotionally, everything felt terrible. “…I just can’t shake this.” Laying back on the soft bed, he let out a low sigh. It was probably this bed’s fault for making him think nothing but bad thoughts. The mattress must have been pretty expensive, as his back sunk deeply into it. It felt wrong. The canopy was high and had impressive engravings of giant dragons on it that also made him uneasy. This was the commander’s dayroom in the city of Collina di Luce’s Winged Guard Command Headquarters. It was a dayroom only in name, as the size and facilities made it a splendid bedroom. Willem had never received any education as an officer, nor did he ever receive any distinctions on the battlefield. But through a special (not respectable) circumstance, he came to hold the distinguished title of second enchantments officer. Upon showing his ID and an introduction letter from Nygglatho, he was offered this room to stay in while on duty. Second officer’s a big deal, huh…? It was only now that such a silly thing felt real. People in high positions typically needed good reason to be appointed to their offices. Without some combination of skills, wealth, or nepotism, it was unlikely they would succeed. This room was meant for those who had overcome all that. He had no idea how Glick had managed to put him in the position of second officer in the first place. Considering how there’d been no problems thus far, it didn’t sound like it was just simple document forgery or doctoring. Either way, there was no doubt that his position and privileges didn’t match up with his actual worth. Because of that, he felt sorry, because it was almost like he was tricking the honest soldiers here, making him feel ill at ease. “I’ll go take a walk…” He was to pick up Tiat in the evening. There was plenty of time. The reason he’d come to such a faraway island in the first place was to make sure he wouldn’t overthink with all the time he had on his hands. So there was no point in his lazing about in the room. He should at least take a look around this city, supposedly renowned as the melting pot of romance and legend. “I hope I can drag Tiat around before we go back…” She had been so excited, after all. He would feel so bad for her if they only ended up lost and wasting all their time after they finally had the chance to sightsee—or, rather, it would probably be a bit of a pain to drag her all the way back to Island No. 68 if she was dejected like that. So it probably wasn’t a bad idea to do some sightseeing beforehand. He chuckled softly to himself and felt a little lighter. It was only when he came to the hall leading to the front entrance that he realized. The townscape spreading outside was starting to grow black in dampness. It was raining. “Why does it have to start raining now?” Part of the ceiling was leaking in a corner of the hallway, and there was a big bucket placed beneath it. The buildings looked magnificent from the outside but were indeed weathered with the seasons and starting to show their age in some places. Boggards in military dress looked at one another and began asking where the wooden boards and the hammers were. “Well… There’s an elegance to an old city in the rain, so this probably isn’t too bad.” He could probably borrow an umbrella from the headquarters here. If not, then he could just buy one at a nearby gift shop. Then— “Eek!” His response came a little late as he was looking up to the sky, thinking. He almost ran headfirst into a woman who jumped in through the front entrance. In the few moments before his consciousness could react, the conditioned reflexes instilled in him began to propel his body automatically. It recognized the woman’s movements as an enemy attack, moved his body out of her way with the slightest shift, then slipped into her blind spot. As she was about to fall over, he set his aim on the nape of her neck and began to lower his hand in a chop— Just as he was about to do so, Willem’s consciousness finally held back his reckless reflexes. “Oops.” He pulled his chopping hand back, wrapped it around the woman’s waist, and held her up. “Eep!” She gave a little cry. “Um, ah…” “That was close. Don’t I always tell you to watch where you’re going when you—? Uh, never mind.” Willem’s habitual scolding tone had accidentally come right out of his mouth. When he realized that she wasn’t one of the little faeries, he cut himself off with a wry smile. He stood her up on the spot and let her go. It was a lycanthrope girl. Her whole body was covered with a light coat of soft white fur. Her facial structure resembled that of the proud wolf. It was only her pointed ears that were wrapped in the color of lightly burned straw. Judging by the well-made silk dress she wore, she was probably from a good family. Why had this young lady run, in the middle of the rain, into a military establishment? She didn’t seem like a soldier, but if the guards had let her through the gate, then she must at least be authorized in some way. “Thank…you…?” With an expression that suggested she still didn’t quite understand what had happened, the girl bowed her head politely. Just that one elegant gesture alone indicated she really wasn’t suited to this place. “It’s dangerous to run around without looking where you’re going, especially in a military facility. You never know where there might be dangerous materials.” “Oh, yes, my apologies.” He gave her a rough nod in response. “Well, I’m off.” Willem decided to leave immediately. He hated trouble, especially when women and kids were involved. He couldn’t just run away. There would be no forgiving himself if he admitted defeat once a woman or child asked him for help. It was probably—no, it was definitely because of his master’s instruction. He was living with his master’s teachings in his blood and flesh. That was why the moment he caught a whiff of trouble, the best option was to run away before anyone could ask for help. He’d always been told it was a crooked way of thinking or that his kindness was half-assed. He knew that. But anyone who didn’t have good control over their own mind looked crooked and half-baked by those around them. So I’m not wrong, and it’s not my fault. I’m out. “U-um, excuse me!” He was still there. His back still toward the girl, he turned only his head around, like a rusted screw. “What is it? I’m not gonna apologize for touching you.” “No, that was my responsibility, so I shall put away my blade.” “I see, well, I’m glad you’re so understanding… Wait, a blade?” The girl ignored Willem’s question. “That is not it. I have something to ask of First Officer Limeskin, so would it be possible to get an audience with him?” “Lime… Huh?” That name sounded familiar. The large lizardfolk man with milky-white scales. The very man who commanded the faeries and took them to the battlefield. Second Enchantments Officer Willem Kmetsch’s direct superior on paper. But now— “That big lizard is at war far beneath the sky right now.” He’d taken Chtholly and the others to fight off Timere, which had drifted ashore to Island No. 15. And there was no end in sight for that battle. Well, no, that wasn’t quite it. In principle, islands with nearby numbers were also close in distance. This was Island No. 11, so it wasn’t unreasonably far from Island No. 15. He could probably get there sitting two hours by airship. So it was a bit of an exaggeration when he said “far beneath the sky”—but he wasn’t going to bother correcting himself. “When do you think he will return?” “No idea. If anything, that’s what I wanna know.” That was the truth. “Assuming that they’ve set up encampments in layers or whatever, all communication is blocked. We’ll only hear from them when everything’s been settled. It’s doing a number on my heart.” “I…see…” Her shoulders and ears drooped. She was easy to read. “Well, if you need something, go ahead and grab one of those soldiers there—” He motioned with his chin to some boggards who just happened to pass by. He heard a clamor. The building began to rumble violently. Soldiers ran in from somewhere, grabbed the other guys who were there, talked about something in low voices, then the two ran off in different directions. Just by looking, he could tell there was something going on. And his gut convinced him it was nothing good. “Wh-what is it?” The semifer girl shrank in bewilderment. But Willem paid her no mind and grabbed onto the scruff of the neck of an orc who tried to rush past them. “What happened?” His question was short. “Th-that’s secret. Distribution of information can only be done through the proper channels.” “I want to thank you for all your honest, hard work, but—” Willem glanced at the orc’s rank. A foot soldier. He showed him his own rank sewed onto his uniform. “I am Second Enchantments Officer Willem Kmetsch. I am responsible for the management of dug weapons and the lepre—and the soldiers who wield them. Of course, I also have the right afforded my position to examine all the data regarding the current battle.” That was nothing but lies. Willem didn’t even know how much power his position had in the first place. He had never been interested, so he never asked. For now, he would simply push his luck. “I request again that you disclose this information. What happened?” With an empathic tone, he pressed closer. The orc’s shoulders shuddered in fear. “We received contact from the first fleet. It was about the outcome of the battle on Island No. 15.” Willem’s breath stopped. Contact from the first fleet. The result of the fight on Island No. 15. The one thing he was desperate to know. Who had the advantage in the fight? When would it end? Were the girls still safe? The entire process had been hidden behind the veil that was the encampment. He and the others knew nothing. They weren’t ready for anything. What would happen to them? “In our battle with Timere—” Even if he did hear the end of that sentence— The orc’s face said everything. That was why Willem smiled. Because the inside of his heart was a mess. He no longer knew how he would face the result he thought he was ready for, the outcome he had decided to accept. So he smiled a weak smile, the corners of his mouth lifted just slightly. He listened. “—we have lost.” His vision went black. His knees gave out, and he collapsed where he stood. “A-are you all right?!” The semifer girl rushed to him. But he could not even raise his head, much less take the hand held out for him. What an idiot. Somewhere in his heart, another version of himself scoffed. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. There was nothing that was supposed to be shocking. Their chances of winning were just over half. He’d said that himself. He should have understood that they would lose in the case they couldn’t reach 50 percent. “Ha-ha, ha…” His mouth was still twisted in a smile. A laugh slipped so surprisingly easily from the back of his throat. He could do nothing but laugh. “…I think we should send word soon.” “Of course! We have a Mr. So-and-so waiting for us with his heart pounding!” “But…” “Given the sssituation, I ssshall grant permissssion to ussse the communication cryssstal.” “See, even this important person is saying so!” “But! People on the other end can see what we look like when we use the communication crystal!” “Well, you know what this is for. Is there a problem?” “I’m saying! We’re covered in mud and not dressed very cute, and my hair is a mess!” “Oh, you’ll be fine just the way you are. By now, it isn’t a relationship where there’s any point in keeping up appearances, right?” “But still, you know…” “Because you haven’t seen him in a few days?” “Yes. I feel like I need to be ready.” “…Huh…?” Voices from somewhere. They drew closer, accompanied by footsteps. He lifted his head and looked in their direction. “Sigh… Seeing up close the mind of a girl smitten is more annoying than I thought.” In an exaggerated manner, the girl with hair the color of withered grass shook her head in exasperation. “That’s not what it is! This is, like, a minimum of courtesy.” The girl with cerulean hair argued, her shoulders tensing. “Your aloof appeal, which really took its time, by the way, is way too obvious again, y’know what I mean? It’s like, what happened to the defiant Chtholly we had yesterday? I guess it is true that once a normally serious girl becomes conscious of boys, she becomes unruly, since she doesn’t know her limits.” “Mm.” The girl with dull gray hair nodded shortly in agreement. “Are you two siding against me?!” The cerulean girl cried in pain. The three of them somehow seemed exhausted. Their hair was mussed, their faces covered in mud and dust, and they wore tired linens on their bodies. This was obviously a time where it would be hard to say they looked stylish, even out of empty flattery. And another thing. Something, at the very least, apparent from far away. They were alive. There were no visible wounds, either. They moved; they talked. “Oh.” Ithea noticed the stare on her. “Hmm?” Nephren tilted her head. “Huh?” Chtholly turned around and froze. “…Yoooouuuuuu threeeee!” The darkness before his eyes was now dyed white. While the fact that he still could not see anything had not changed, his body knew exactly what it needed to do. —There was no need to bend his knees, to gather strength. He didn’t have the time for that. He twisted his entire body and let it fall, as though slipping forward. Pushing himself forward with his legs, as animals were originally made to do, would always delay the initial movement. In the era when the emnetwiht fought with enemies who were far more powerful, they sought a technique that would let them run at a speed beyond their limits. Conceived at the ends of the north and studied in the battlefields to the west, it eventually crystallized. This technique, officially named the Nightingale Sweep, was difficult and would be mastered only by a small handful of adventurers and Quasi Braves. But for those who did, they gained a special move that could deceive even the elves’ eyesight. A summary of the result of activating this skill went something like, That man, who’d just been relaxing his knees, without any preparation, dashed at a speed that did not even register to the eye. Then— “Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-what?! Wh-wha—?” In the next moment, he held Chtholly, who should have been farther away, in a tight embrace. “H-hey! Ow! That hurts! I can’t breathe! Stop! I’m covered in mud and I have scratches everywhere and I haven’t cleaned myself and everyone is watching— Are you even listening?!” Her words of protest, which she probably wasn’t even aware of herself, of course never reached Willem’s ears. “…Where’d this guy come from?” Ithea asked the large lizardfolk man who stood beside her—Limeskin—but he merely shrugged slightly, giving no answer. “I said we should have sent word earlier,” Nephren muttered. “You did say that, but did you think the officer would’ve been this broken?” “Broken?” “You know, doesn’t this young man strike you as the type to put up a front, pretend he’s all tough in an unnatural way? Or adopt a cynical attitude like a sourpuss? But then it’s still kind of cute because neither really suits him?” Ithea drew circles in the air with her finger. “That’s why I imagined a more chill reunion, where he just pats her on the head and says, ‘Good job,’ all somber-like, and then Chtholly gets all angry and says, ‘Is that all you’ll say to me?!’ and stuff.” “…Willem has always been like this.” On the other hand, Nephren spoke smoothly, keeping Chtholly in the corner of her eye. “He’s hard-working, straightforward, and doesn’t look at his surroundings very much. He doesn’t stop until he’s broken, and once he does stop, he doesn’t move until he’s fixed. It’s risky and means he can’t be left alone.” “Ahhh. I kinda get it, but I kinda don’t.” Ithea tilted her head in thought. “What do you think, Chtholly?” “I think you need to stop chatting and help me out here!” she cried in protest. “But I believe you should allow him to hug you until he’s finished.” “No! Either my spine will snap or I’ll suffocate or I’ll absolutely die of embarrassment before that happens!” “I don’t think we need to worry about you suffocating if you’re talking that much.”