“I’ll admit that the magical draining bothers me,” he said, “but I can say the same for the box itself—the source of the issue. But we can put an end to things by destroying it; it’s that simple.”
“I hope it isn’t rude of me to ask, but what if the magical energy drain doesn’t stop?” I asked.
“I’ll make time to thoroughly investigate when I can, but at present, our hands are tied. This is simply not a priority.”
“Oh, yes. I understand.”
“More importantly, I can arrange a safe town for your elderly servants to stay in, and they’ll have full access to comfortable homes. Just say the words should you need such assistance.”
Reinald was, in fact, not especially worried about the capital’s citizens. And yet, when he said this, I knew that he at least had a heart.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he then said, standing from his chair.
I wondered if perhaps he was going to have Moritz research the matter more thoroughly. Regardless, he was gone, which left me alone with Six. The mage had his arms crossed, his gaze aimed skyward, to the clouds.
“So why tell us that secret at all?” I asked. “You’ve never told anybody else all this time. Why now?”
“Meh. No reason.”
“Your expression says otherwise. There was a reason somewhere in there.”
“You already know that this face is something that I create. The real me is the box. This me doesn’t actually exist. It’s a chunk of magical energy shaped to look like a person.”
“Illusion or not, you did not look like you said what you said for no reason.”
“Then how did I look, hmm?”
“Like you wanted to tell someone about it. If not that, then because you’re starved of people to talk to.”
I knew the words might only rile the mage up, but, to my surprise, he took my honesty in his stride. No verbal mud or venom slung my way, just a vacant stare that reminded me of a very tired old man.
“I’m complaining, I know,” he said, “but when they repair the box, and it won’t be long, I’ll lose all the freedom I’ve ever known. The life I live now has a great many limitations, but being out like this is a kind of healing for me, even then.”
“That’s why you thought to say something?”
“Perhaps... But, look... Your steward brews a truly stellar cup of tea, and when I happened to speak to your gardener last he gave me flowers. So as I said earlier, it was a kindness on my part.”
A silence hung in the air between us for a moment.
“I may hate humans,” muttered the mage, “but I hate seeing the decline of kindly old men even more.”
There was sorrow in Six’s words. Ordinarily, he would have dodged my questions, but this time he hadn’t. I wondered if perhaps he might answer another thing I was curious about.
I had to know.
“What did you think of Ern, Six?” I asked.
It was a question I had to ask for the sake of my own resolve, and I gulped nervously as I waited for the box’s avatar to speak.
“Ah, Ernesta,” Six uttered.
The air changed in an instant. There was tension in it, something sharp, and I felt as if a more twisted side of the mage was revealing itself.
“I’m not an oaf,” he said. “I know what it is you really want to know. I won’t play dumb, but I won’t sugarcoat things either. Just know that you won’t like the answer.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. I never expected sympathy or compassion. So, how did you feel about her?”
“Before that, I have a question of my own.”
The mage floated up into the air. He spun upside down, looked into my eyes, and chuckled.
“I was helping Karl,” he said. “I was ordered to help the elders seal off Ern’s powers and help to see her dead. What do you think of that?”
I did not have to think about an answer.
“I want to punch you straight in the face,” I said.
Six’s eyes went wide. Perhaps he was expecting me to say something along the lines of “I don’t blame you.”
“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” said Six, intrigued. “I was ordered to help, and help I did. You won’t even take that into consideration? She’s the one who chose to end her own life, and you’re the one who helped her do it. But you’ll turn your anger on me?”
“Yes. I know I’m the one who pulled the trigger. That I’m the one who killed her. Or to put it in your words, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
When it came to what happened with Ern, I had trouble committing to certainties. I was full of swirling emotions. It gave me pause to think. The end had come as a result of so many different factors converging at the same time. The emperor was at fault, yes, but at the same time...it was Ern who’d made me pull the trigger. Naturally, I also despised myself for not being able to stop her.
Six was another factor in it all. While it was true that he could not betray a direct order from the emperor, I still felt enraged that he hadn’t tried, even though I knew that was selfish on my part.
So yes, my rage was nothing if not selfish—and largely irrational at that.
“But I think I still struggle with the idea that it’s out of my control. I don’t want that to be how it ends,” I admitted.
My answer did little to satisfy the mage. The ominous air quietened, and Six’s gentle features formed into a grin.
“How very human,” he said, “and how very trite. Oh, how you disappoint me.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Or is it simply that you won’t?”
“Ah, yes. I haven’t, have I? Well, I felt she was a very stupid young woman.”
“That’s not what I mean. You know what I meant.”
“Love, you mean? None of that. Not a hint.”
He was teasing me. He spoke to me with contempt. Anybody who’d loved him and met with this attitude would have no doubt found themselves with a lifelong wound that would never, ever heal.
“With growth and development comes surprise,” Six mused. “I saw potential in Ern as a mage, and there was something cute about that defiance of hers. Her powers matched those of the spirits. She might have even gone further still. But her talk of love and whatnot was utter stupidity.”