“We’re falling! Hold on tight!” Ron shouted from within the gradually descending hot-air balloon’s basket.
There hadn’t been a follow-up attack from the dragon, so the balloon had managed to take off. But, likely due to damage caused by flying debris from the first attack, it had reached its limit about an hour after departure and begun losing altitude.
“Alia...!” Elena murmured, tightly gripping the basket’s edge.
Why had Alia done such a thing? Why alone? And why after calling Elena a friend?
Though this was something Elena had always wished to hear, given their difference in station, she’d thought that word was doomed to go unsaid.
The image of Alia smiling was burned into Elena’s mind. Was that Alia’s—Alicia’s—true smile? Or had she forced herself to smile because this was the end? Was her usual self a facade?
No, that’s not right.
Both were the true Alia. That had likely been a smile directed at a true friend—not because it was the end. Elena would not accept that as the end. Alia was alive. There was no way she’d break her vow to Elena and die.
“You’re not allowed to die. Understand?” Elena muttered, lifting her head.
The tinge of pain vanished from Elena’s eyes, replaced by a determined, somewhat angry spark. Alia had gone to such lengths to preserve Elena’s safety—there was no way she’d die. Elena would never forgive her for it.
Now, Elena would go to Kal’Faan and contact her homeland of Claydale, then use every last card she had to save Alia. She would survive, even if it meant eating rocks.
“Ron! Tell me what to do!” she said.
“Lena...”
“I’m not sad anymore. Also, please call me Elena.”
Ron paused, then said, “All right! Pull that rope!”
With Elena’s recovery, Chaco and the other frightened children had likewise regained some color. But that didn’t mean they were out of the woods. The balloon’s altitude was still unstable, and with their two strongest fighters absent, it was unclear whether the group could handle dangers.
“Ron, monsters from above!”
“Now?!”
Two giant crows approached from the sky. Their massive size afforded them Rank 3, but they weren’t normally threatening to a hot-air balloon of this caliber. But in its current condition, it was unclear whether the monster hide would endure. Elena could use offensive spells, but not on such unstable footing. If she hesitated and the crows snapped even one of the ropes connecting the balloon to the basket, they wouldn’t be able to land softly or repair anything.
“Caaaaaaaw!”
“Eeeeeek!”
One giant crow dive-bombed the hot-air balloon, making the basket shake violently. As the ground grew closer and Ron struggled to land, the second crow attacked the ropes.
“Hurricane!”
A Level 4 wind spell was unleashed from somewhere nearby, tearing apart the charging crow and blowing it toward the distant sky. Elena gasped in admiration—not at the level of the spell but at the precision required for an area-of-effect spell to blow away only the crow without so much as shaking the balloon.
Everyone was surprised, and the remaining giant crow even stopped attacking. Next thing anyone knew, a jet-black beast leaped like a gale at the low-flying crow and dragged it to the ground, tearing it apart.
“W-We’re falling!” Ron called out.
The balloon landed on the mercifully flat, sandy ground. Though the landing had hardly been soft and the balloon and basket had overturned, the children had only suffered scratches from falling on sand.
“Is everyone okay?” Ron asked.
The children’s eyes were wide with shock as they nodded.
“Yeah, but...”
No one had major injuries, only bruises and scrapes. They felt more relief than pain as they looked around in a daze. From where they were, Cutlass seemed quite small on the horizon.
A woman with her hood pulled low—likely the sorceress who’d cast the spell—gently said, “You folks appear to be all right.”
Chaco and the children gasped at the adult woman’s voice.
“Thank you. But...who are you?” Elena asked.
She and Ron were still wary. The woman gave them a sympathetic smile and removed her hood, revealing herself to be a dark elf.
“I’m looking for someone,” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen my pink-haired, unsociable apprentice, would you?”
✦ ✦ ✦
“So that’s what happened. I suppose I should be calling this apprentice foolish too. I’m sorry, young lady, for the trouble she’s caused you.”
“Oh, no, no. Alia has helped me countless times. I will say, I didn’t know Alia’s magic teacher was a dark elf.”
In the starlit desert, Cere’zhula and Elena had just concluded sharing their tales with each other. Now they exchanged a nod.
Ron had been restless since Cere’zhula had introduced herself and had turned to repairing the hot-air balloon, as though he needed to keep busy. He had no plans to tell anyone about the history behind that name, but he was nevertheless in great shock.
The two youngest children, who at first had been frightened of the coeurl Nero, were now asleep on Chaco’s lap. Neu, a dark elf like Cere’zhula, sat stiffly next to her as she patted his head—perhaps he was bashful, or nervous, to be in the presence of a female dark elf the same age his mother would’ve been. Female dark elves were rare in Cutlass.
Nero, meanwhile, despite cooperating with Cere’zhula, was uninterested in people other than Alia. Instead, it was staring down monsters in the distance, unwilling to permit any harm to those under Alia’s protection.
“I left Claydale as soon as I heard Alia was missing, so I’m afraid I don’t know the situation there,” Cere’zhula lamented.
“No, it heartens me to know you came here for Alia. What will you do from here, Lady Cere’zhula?” Elena asked.
“Well...before I answer that, could you tell me your plans?” Cere’zhula said, looking straight into Elena’s eyes.
They were strong eyes, she thought. She’d immediately caught on that it was this girl whom Alia had wanted to protect, and she understood why her beloved but unsociable apprentice had risked her life to guard Elena.
But she also felt uneasy. From the conversation, she could tell Alia and Elena were embedded deeply into each other’s hearts. It would’ve been fine if they were mistress and guard. It would’ve been fine if they were friends, even. But if Elena said she wanted to join Cere’zhula in searching for Alia, it would hint at unhealthy dependence.
Elena nodded quietly, her gaze calm. “First, I’ll head to the Kal’Faan empire, reveal my identity, contact my homeland, and request rescue. I’m thinking of contacting the prime minister to dispatch Alia’s companions—the Rainbow Blade—and a number of knights with the Order of Shadows.”
The Rainbow Blade was a group of Rank 5 warriors, one of Claydale’s foremost adventuring parties. Normally, such a high rank would have facilitated international travel, but that party was so deeply embedded with the nobility that their political relevance made leaving the country difficult.
Given how strongly they felt about Alia, they would probably want to rescue her. And Elena was prepared to use the full weight of her authority to resolve any issues they might encounter—such as funding or travel difficulties—for Alia’s sake.
“I see...” Cere’zhula nodded, satisfied with Elena’s calm judgment and determination. “I’ll do what I can for my unsociable apprentice as well, rest assured. And so will the black cat.”
Cere’zhula pointed behind her with her thumb, and Nero turned sideways with a snort that almost sounded like a laugh.
“Besides, Dalton and Miranda may well already be on the move,” Cere’zhula said.
“You know those two?”
“It’s an old story,” Cere’zhula said, grinning. “Keep it a secret, all right?”
She’d fought bitter battles many times, over fifty years ago, against those two and another former Rainbow Blade member, Samantha. They’d been enemies then, but precisely because of that, Cere’zhula knew they wouldn’t abandon a comrade.
Not that she was any different.
I’m coming for you, you foolish girl. Even if it means going back to Dais...