CHAPTER FIVE Lutia’s mind was filled with the sudden revelations, and since she was in contact with a diverse array of scholars, she said she needed a little time to gather herself—and her list. And so Col and the rest of his entourage decided to return to the inn, but Myuri suddenly declared she had something to discuss about saving the kids and noted she would be staying at the Green Gourd. Col knew he had forced her to wait for quite a while already, and he could no longer hold her back by saying it was too early. And since Canaan was here, it seemed as though many problems would be solved at once, so he figured she wanted to put together a wild plan sooner rather than later. “Don’t ask too much from Lutia and cause her any trouble, okay?” When he reminded her, she turned away in a huff, but he thought this was perfect—he had plenty to talk about with Canaan on how to approach the upcoming ecumenical council and the vernacular scripture. If the two of them grew excited over things Myuri could not appreciate, she would doubtlessly become grumpy. After reminding her one more time not to cause Lutia too much trouble, they left the Green Gourd and were greeted by the brilliant sun at its apex in the sky. Canaan’s face beamed even brighter. “Master Col, we must thank God for the gorgeous weather!” As Col watched the way Canaan’s positive emotions overflowed from him, he was slightly—just ever so slightly—thankful he was not a girl. And so they returned to the inn. He and Canaan spoke at length about the scripture, and around the time they were adding new ideas and better interpretations for the translation to their letter to Hyland, the evening bell rang, signaling the closing of the markets. The sun was red and sat on the horizon, waiting to dip below it. They still had to send the letter, so they went to check on Le Roi, only to find the bookseller sitting in a daze, much like Myuri was after her second nap of the morning, and he wore a shameful expression. Since it seemed as though he had finally sobered up, they handed him the letter they had penned together. Canaan still seemed like he had a lot more to say, so Col thought about having dinner with him, but Myuri was still not back yet. She was not the sort of girl to worry about bothering them, perhaps on the thought that they were still busy talking, so it was unlikely she came to the room and then turned back. If she were still playing military general with Lutia, then it was perhaps about time to go drag her away for food. Those thoughts roamed his mind as they made their way down the stairs. At the bottom, the innkeeper, who seemed to be talking to a guest, turned to look at them. “Perfect timing. There’s a message for you.” “For me?” The one speaking to the innkeeper looked like one of the youngest students. He rushed over, his expression tense, and Col was shocked when he said familiar names. “Is this a message from Myuri and Miss Lutia?” Col turned to look back at Canaan, wondering if this was on purpose. “Sh-she says they have a plan, so please come to the old chapel.” When the child said that, Col had a general idea of what he was talking about. He could imagine Myuri being so engrossed in talking about saving the kids that coming to tell Col herself felt tedious. At worst, there was a chance she was causing Lutia all sorts of trouble, like saying she wanted to put their plan into motion that evening. Col looked to Canaan, and Canaan nodded. “Very well. We will go there at once.” The young boy relaxed, relieved, and rushed off into the darkening city. “Good grief… I never know what to do with that tomboy and her lack of patience,” Col said with a sigh. Canaan smiled, clearly sympathizing with Myuri. “Perhaps when she heard the boys were captured, she must have remembered how she felt when you were kidnapped, Master Col.” Though it did make sense when he pointed it out, Col had to wonder if part of all this was because the search for the children had stimulated her wolf instincts. She had always loved hunting. “Personally, I would prefer if she refrained from doing anything dangerous,” he said, his shoulders dropping. Canaan gave him a considerate smile and then turned to his personal guard. “Could you look after Master Le Roi for a little while? I believe the city may grow dangerous.” The taciturn guard looked between Canaan and Le Roi, somewhere above them, and then shrugged in compliance. Though the bookseller could be right in the middle of all the action and still emerge unscathed if he were in his usual spirits, he was more of a concern when he had just sobered up. But Col also wondered if there was another reason as to why Canaan had assigned his guard to Le Roi. Canaan was slowly showing Col his true colors, and Col now knew he was a lot like Myuri. And he was sure the young archivist thought that, as a man, having his guard stay close the entire time made the excitement all the less satisfying. And so they set out onto the streets of Aquent as it transformed into a turf of drunken students. Col and Canaan chatted about academics in a manner more like a student than any other student in the city, and eventually neared the ruined chapel that served as Lutia’s hideout. However— “Hmm?” They made their way down the dim street and came to the old chapel, only to find the door was still locked. It was not a problem, since Col had received a key from Lutia, but that meant the ones who had summoned them here were yet to arrive. And that was strange. Perhaps they were still running around the Green Gourd, preoccupied with planning their rescue mission. As Col knew he would be scolding Myuri later tonight, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. “This is a very old kind of chapel,” Canaan remarked. The boy stood by the altar and squinted up at the faint shadow left behind on the wall where the crest of the Church once hung, the rest of the wall around it bleached by the sun. “It was apparently originally the small church for this parish. It was abandoned long ago, however.” “This reminds me of the archives at the Curia. I can smell books, but only faintly.” Canaan inhaled, as though recalling a distant memory, and this shocked Col. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised… There is a repository of books hidden here, in fact.” “Hmm?” Canaan blinked, and after a few moments of hesitation, he turned around to look at Col, eyes wide and pleading in his request to see them. Col could not help but smile wryly, because he seemed quite a bit like a more ladylike Myuri. “Do you see the indent in the floorboards?” As Col thought about how he could never really scold Myuri when she snuck into the pantry to sneak bites of honey, he and Canaan peeled back the floorboard. Though Le Roi had deemed the books practically worthless, that did not seem to be much of a matter to Canaan. The moment the books appeared, he sat on the floor and began reading. The sun was setting by the second, so the inside of the chapel had grown rather dark. Col laughed—he could at least wait until he put on a light. He found candles in the corner of the chapel. But as he was about to light them, he realized he had nothing on hand to do so. That, and the candles were made of cheap tallow, which meant the soot would give off a particular smell that might cling to the books, especially since the windows were closed, so he decided to not light them after all. Col placed his hand on the window, figuring they could get a bit of moonlight if they opened it, but he stopped. “Myuri?” But it was not. There were one, two unfamiliar figures deep in the alley. More he did not recognize. He left the windows open a crack, as they were, then silently made his way back to Canaan. Canaan was pulling out one book after another and flipping through them—all of them deemed nigh worthless by Le Roi. He must have found something good, because he turned to Col with a beaming expression and opened his mouth to speak. Col pressed his finger to Canaan’s lips to silence him and looked around the old chapel. This was not a very large building, and there was only one small connecting space. Buildings like these had high ceilings, and the skylights were often out of reach. The sun had long since dipped behind the horizon, the alleys were dark, and Col was not a wolf. He regretted leaving Canaan’s guard back at the inn, did his best to suppress the loud beating of his heart in his ear, and put his mind into motion. “Master Col?” Canaan was perplexed. Col nodded and pointed. “Stand down!” The door was kicked open and people flooded in. “We received reports of a heretic! In the name of God—” Those that marched in suddenly stopped, as though swallowing their words. “…Where did they go?” The poorly built chapel creaked and rattled as feet fell onto the warped floorboards. There were three, no—four, of them. Something heavy and hard jabbed the chairs, and there came the sound of something dragging along the floor. One of them was armed with a spear. Col briefly wondered if they were soldiers from the Church, or perhaps the city, but quickly realized their voices were much too young for that. Whenever the reddish flame from the candle moved, their shadows moved. “They’re not here…” “But the door was unlocked, right? Maybe they escaped from one of the back windows?” “No, no one came out from the windows.” After the conversation, one who must have been the captain of the small squad stamped on the floor. Canaan started to cry out, but Col clamped his hand over his mouth and waited still, silently. “Damn it! Are they pulling our legs?!” “No, first we should go back and check the nearby roads. Even if they did escape, the sun is down. They can’t have gone far.” The ones who had strong-armed their way into the chapel quickly left, and their footsteps grew distant. Even after he could no longer hear their footsteps, Col waited there as he counted to three hundred. There were scenes just like this in the knight tales Myuri wrote every night. “…I think we’re all right now,” Col whispered to Canaan, and he pushed up the floorboard. He sat up from his horizontal position in the small storage area beneath the floorboards. It was good to know they were safe, but when he saw that the books stacked in a pile in the corner were untouched, he was relieved. He had been nervous, wondering if the soldiers had kicked and scattered the papers in their frustration, but he supposed that was because this was an academic city. He crawled out of the hole, but Canaan remained lying perfectly still in the space beneath the floorboards where the books had been hiding. “Archivist Canaan,” Col said to get his attention. Canaan’s wide, unblinking eyes suddenly squeezed shut, then cracked open a sliver. “I forgot to pray to God…” Just a few months ago, it would have been Col who would have remained curled up in the hole, and an exasperated Myuri the one to try to drag him out. Col extended a hand to Canaan to help him up and brushed the dirt from him. “It is simply experience.” Since he had done the exact same in a burning room, he had been able to act immediately. Canaan looked up at him with an odd expression, one of both fear and respect. “But more importantly,” Col said, “they mentioned heretics, didn’t they?” Though he had not been able to see well what they wore, they had been on the lookout from the report of one person or another. “Do you mean that you’ve been found out, Master Col?” That was the first thing he thought of, too. If Aquent’s church was corrupt, then the Twilight Cardinal was nothing more than an unwanted guest, and capturing him would give the Church a surprise victory. But that group seemed a little inadequate if that was truly their task, and their raid felt awfully unofficial. That their voices sounded so young also stuck with him. “Either way, this means that both the inn and the Green Gourd are under watch. I believe we should separate ourselves from the city for the meanwhile.” “B-but what about Myuri and the others?” If Myuri were to be captured, then Col, too, would meet a similar fate, no matter how much he struggled. Luckily, despite how Le Roi was debilitated from his hangover, he had a powerful guard at his side, so they did not need to worry about them. “If we leave the books there, then they will certainly figure out we’ve escaped an enemy attack.” If they follow the scent and come here, then they could follow right after them. If worse came to worst, then all he had to do was give a message to one of the birds helping Sharon, who were doubtlessly silently watching them. “We should leave the chapel for the time being. They may come back.” Canaan nodded, his face visibly pale even in the dark, but together they quickly returned the books back to their hiding spot beneath the floor and left the chapel. It was dark, Col’s hand just barely visible to himself. With his left hand, he grasped Canaan’s, and with his right, he groped through the darkness. Canaan swallowed his nerves, holding back several of his hiccups, and his steps were unsteady; he held on to Col so tightly it almost hurt his hand. He recalled how Hyland mentioned that Canaan had been putting up quite a front before. Now, Col was the opposite. It was thanks to Canaan that Col was able to remain calm, much like how responsibility forced people to mature quicker. And much in the same way, he could easily imagine a certain knight walking before him, and that gave him the strength to shove aside any feelings of weakness. He pressed forward, feet digging firmly into the ground as he walked so that the imaginary Myuri in front of him would not laugh at him, all while letting the gears in his mind turn, wondering what this commotion was all about. First, that meant the little boy who brought the message from Myuri and Lutia was being manipulated. His initial assumption was that the local church had discovered he was the Twilight Cardinal, but he had a feeling that people who were primarily worried about being exposed for their corruption would have chosen a slightly different method. Once that thought crossed his mind, they came to the well at the far end of the alleyway. It was a little wider here—in the daytime, women would come here to draw water, and the elderly would come here to bask in the sun. Since this was a slightly open space, Col figured there might be people on watch here, so observed from the shadows. And as he did so, a couple possibilities suddenly came to mind. Perhaps this was a scheme concocted by the southern eagles. Maybe one of Lutia’s boys had betrayed her and secretly told them she had someone on her side wanting to dismantle the southern eagles’ special interests. Upon receiving the report, they decided they must be a heretic of some sort, and decided to pressure them to make sure they would not stay in the city. If that were the case, then it made sense to Col that they would send a paltry, inexperienced force into the chapel without even surrounding the building to ensure their target could not escape from a window, and without bothering to even think about someone hiding under the floorboards. And if that were true, then Myuri would be surprisingly ignorant of this plan, and was likely still busy putting together her strategy at the Green Gourd. Then perhaps it would be a good idea to head there first to check on her. Once she and Lutia were aware of the situation, they could easily turn things in their favor. As Col stood in the shadows, thinking, Canaan poked him in the shoulder. He looked at him with uneasy eyes, silently asking him what was wrong. Col smiled back in reassurance, poked his head out from the shadows to check the space, then gestured for them to go. They were fortunate the moon was not out, and there was no one else wandering the streets. Just as he began to think about which way led back to the Green Gourd, he suddenly heard footsteps from behind, and all his hair stood on end. Just as he tugged on Canaan’s hand, thinking it was a pursuer, he realized there was only one set of footsteps, and the way they hit the ground sounded familiar. The voice he heard confirmed it. “Brother?!” It was Myuri—she had likely followed their scent here. “Myuri!” he called. From the darkness emerged the small, silver figure, and she leaped right into his chest. “Don’t tell me you managed to escape on your own?” she said, pressing her face into his chest. Col could not help but check to see if her ears and tail had suddenly popped out, and he was embarrassed she was doing this in front of Canaan. “I’ve done my fair share of traveling, too.” As he lifted his arms to hug her in return, he realized his left hand was still firmly holding Canaan’s. Suspicious that her brother was not hugging her back, Myuri lifted her head. She narrowed her eyes when she saw their hands entwined. “More importantly, what about Miss Lutia? Has there been an attack on the Green Gourd, too?” Col asked, and Myuri snapped back to reality. “Oh, uh, no… Well, I mean, I don’t know about right now.” Myuri stepped back from Col and chose her words. “When I got back to the inn, I heard that you apparently got a message from us.” Myuri was sharp. That alone was enough for her to sniff out that someone was plotting something. “Is the inn being watched?” Col asked. Myuri shook her head. It seemed whoever was doing this did not have the people to carry out a large-scale surprise attack. “Then let’s inform Miss Lutia of the situation back at the Green Gourd. This is most certainly a plot concocted by the southern eagles. Unfortunately…I believe there may be a traitor among her people.” Myuri’s eyes went wide. “I believe someone may have leaked the operation to save the kids.” With Lutia taking command, it was unlikely they would be beaten back by a simple ambush, but the boys in captivity might have been moved, and the operation would end in failure. “A…a traitor among Lutia’s people…” Myuri groaned, as though in some excuse, but Col patted her head to let her know that she need not say anymore. Because this girl knew just how much Lutia cared for her people, and just how hard she was working. “Is Mister Le Roi and the guard still back at the inn?” Col could not predict how reckless the southern eagles might get, so he could not make the decision on his own as to whether it was safe to remain in the inn or go somewhere else. But the reason he wanted to meet up with them again was because Canaan, much gloomier now than he was earlier in the day, might find a little relief having a bodyguard he was familiar with by their side. But when he asked this question, Myuri looked as though she was desperately trying to think of an answer. “Myuri?” he asked. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” Though she seemed more carefree than in the other times they had encountered danger, a part of her attitude did not seem like Myuri at all, and Col even thought she was lacking a bit of her typical composure. But not a moment later, she returned to her usual self and said, “I told them to leave the inn before more trouble showed up. Canaan’s guard was there, and I figured old man Le Roi could get through this anyway.” Col nodded, and he felt a tug on his hand. Though Canaan was still uneasy, a degree of strength had returned to his gaze. “I-in that case,” Canaan began. “I believe we will be able to meet up with them at our emergency rendezvous. Just on the way to the western highway.” This thorough preparedness likely came from how he used to work under the same roof as the inquisitors. Col looked to Myuri to see the scales in her mind tipping, and she opened her mouth like a ringing bell. “Then should I take you both to where Canaan’s guard and old man Le Roi are?” “Should we not make contact with Miss Lutia first?” Col asked. Myuri shrugged. “Lutia has a good hold over the strays in the city.” And she gave him an awkward wink. That must mean that when she had gone to the inn and found out they had been falsely summoned by a young messenger, she had given the message to one of the dogs. After reviewing the situation once more, Col determined he had overlooked nothing. “Very well. Take us to where we need to go.” “I sure will!” Myuri was enthusiastic in situations like this, which meant she was very reliable. A few students putting on a tough act with their little attacks were nothing to her. “We’ll be enjoying this adventure for a little longer, Archivist.” Col was not entirely sure if he managed to give him a good smile, but Canaan took great efforts to return the gesture. Col squeezed his hand to reassure him further. “You’ll be fine because I’m here!” Myuri said suddenly, sour. She looked at Col and Canaan’s clasped hands, then promptly grabbed Col’s other hand even more tightly, as if she was snatching up the last item a street vendor had for sale. Even in Aquent, where students were causing a ruckus all night long, there were plenty of streets that were totally silent in the night. Myuri cleverly made her way down these roads, pressing forward as she guided the two totally lost lambs. The reason Col felt less fear than he had anticipated was either because avoiding an attack of his own power had given him confidence, or because he had experienced this plenty of times before, or because he had his reliable knight with him. It was likely all of the above. And when he was aware of his calm that came precisely from the tension, he understood, for the very first time, why Myuri would be so obsessed with this feeling. One could never experience tension and elation like this in the deep mountains of Nyohhira. He and Canaan followed Myuri as she led them down dark alleys. And nothing felt so good as the freeing feeling they experienced as they arrived at the wide-open farm fields. He thought about how he could no longer laugh at Myuri for how much she whined about going to the desert. Considering how excited he was feeling at this very moment, he could only imagine how he would feel seeing the sights of an unfamiliar land beyond the horizon. “Okay, we’re here,” Myuri said casually, straightening out her slumped shoulders. The road leading to the western highway, typically crowded with travelers and nearby farmers and students in the daytime, was only occupied by two other figures. Both had unique silhouettes—of course, they were Canaan’s guard and Le Roi. “Are you all right?!” Canaan’s guard rushed to them and grasped both of Canaan’s shoulders, almost as though he was about to lift him up. He looked him over, making sure he was unharmed. It was funny to see Canaan look a bit annoyed, much like Myuri would be, as he was fussed over. “You are quite the seasoned traveler at this point, Master Col,” Le Roi laughed, his belly shaking. “It’s not something I wished for,” Col replied. “But I’m glad to see everyone safe.” “Nothing happened on our end,” Le Roi said. “That you were the only ones unfortunate enough to be attacked means it must have been the students from the south who planned all of this.” Le Roi seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and the situation as it was seemed to be like a nighttime stroll for him. Perhaps he had managed to avoid the bloodcurdling attacks by inquisitors in the same easygoing way. “What shall we do about our lodgings for the night? If this is the work of the students from the south, then it’s very likely their goal was to chase us out of the city. I believe any tavern or inn outside of the city walls should be no problem.” “A good point…” Col agreed, but he knew that they could be in deep trouble if they let down their guard. And perhaps the first order of business was to get a clear grasp on the situation. With that thought in mind, his eyes roamed in search of Myuri, only to find her standing apart from them, alone. “Hmm?” Perhaps she was standing alert of their surroundings, but there was something…lonely about her. And he felt like something was missing from her silhouette. He wondered why for a moment, and he thought that perhaps her mind was distant because of her worry for Lutia. Because it was clear there was a traitor among Lutia’s ranks, despite how hard she was working to keep the pack together. Myuri’s kind spirit was doubtlessly pained by this fact. “Myuri,” he called for her. He almost thought he saw her wolf ears, currently hidden, stand on end. “We’ll be all right. Please go back to Miss Lutia.” If she were really busy with the operation to save the kids, then there was a possibility the messages from the strays were going astray somehow. “Or would you like me to go?” Col asked. He was offering to take up the role of informing Lutia about the fake message and the attack. Doing so would also mean having to inform her of a traitor among her ranks, and he was certain that would not be a pleasant job. But Myuri shook her head, took a deep breath, and said, “I’ll go. You’ll just get lost and end up captured.” Despite her spiteful words, there was still no spirit in her tone. Col thought that perhaps he should insist, force her to stand down, but Myuri was a proud wolf. Being kind was not enough to show love for her. “The problem Miss Lutia has is one that we can help with, even if we are not in the city. Please tell her that, and that while we may be leaving the city, we will never forget her.” Even if there was a traitor hiding among her boys, Col knew he and his allies could help her. Lutia was a wolf that would not easily give in, much like Myuri. Myuri, in her faint gloom, looked at Col with eyes wide in surprise. Perhaps she thought that he would say something overprotective to her again, much in the way Canaan’s guard would to Canaan. His smile and nod told her that he trusted her, and Myuri smiled in relief. Perhaps the reason she seemed so uneasy was because when they had to leave the city in order to prepare for the great climax in their fight with the Church that was the ecumenical council, they might forget the wolf fighting her own battle in a distant city of learning. But Col would never do such a thing. And so Col made a slight jab in order to reassure her. “Also, you may absolutely not rip into the southern students simply because you are tired of them.” Her reddish eyes rested on him, and she gave him a small, tense smile. “I know.” She then whirled around and dashed away through the nighttime city. Though she did not seem to be entirely herself yet, there was nothing else Col could do for her. As he watched her go, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Don’t lose heart, Master Col,” Le Roi said in his consideration. “Miss Lutia deals with a very deep-rooted problem.” Vested interests, exploitation of the weak, abuse of the system, greed. This was not a problem limited to Aquent. These things were layered like sediment and stuck fast to the modern Church as well. “Let us go, then. The night is still cold,” Le Roi patted Col’s shoulder again. Col turned around to see Canaan and his guard looking at him with concern. He thought the ones they should really be worrying about were Myuri, who would be returning to a city full of the enemy, and Lutia, who was fighting injustice even now. It seemed he was not suited to being a dignified veteran priest. But he did not feel particularly broken up about that. While everyone else began to readjust their bags, Col looked toward Myuri as she walked away. Though he did feel the urge to rush after her, he knew he would be no help following her, and he told himself that he let her go for the sake of her own maturation. He turned around once more, shaking off his worry, and he reached for his and Myuri’s bags that Le Roi had brought from the inn. And that was when he noticed something strange. No—Myuri’s things alone should not be all that strange, yet that was all he could describe it as. “Why is this…here…?” A thought from a moment ago suddenly came back to him. He recalled how lonely Myuri had looked as she stood a short distance away from them, staring at the heart of the city. The reason he had felt like something was missing from her silhouette was not because of her expression. Something that should have been there was gone. “Master Col?” Canaan called, rucksack on his back. Col had no energy to respond with a smile this time. Instead, he pulled open Myuri’s sack. The first thing he noticed were the knight tales she was always so busy writing. Then he saw the quills Hyland had given her, and then the leather pouch meant for her other writing implements. Beneath that she had her disguises, another small pouch stuffed full of candied sweets Hyland had also given her—her bag was an accurate representation of what normally filled her head, a mix of real and imaginary adventures. But what he found at the very bottom of the bag, as though shoved down deep to hide it, evoked a feeling of doubt so intense that he could feel the sweat beading on his head. Something must have happened for Myuri to have done this. He swallowed the awful, awful feeling, akin to nausea, that welled up in him, and he thought desperately as to what this could mean. His thoughts snagged on a memory of when Myuri had done something similar not long ago. It was the night when talk of the ecumenical council had first come up, and Col was discussing whether or not they should go to Aquent. It was right after Myuri had finally convinced her foolish brother, hesitant from the painful experiences he had had as a boy, to go. Myuri was thrilled to have a new adventure in an academic city; like a child, she had crawled under the same blanket as him. She had clung so hard to him, as though making up for the recent weeks where she had been holding back. What had Myuri done then? Before crawling into bed with him, she would casually reach for her sword, resting against the wall, and then turn it around. Why had she done that? She did not want her wolf crest to see her acting in a manner not befitting a knight. “Which…means…?” Her sword had been left with the rest of the luggage, and her sash embroidered with the wolf crest had been stuffed to the very bottom of the sack. She had deliberately not worn either of those things to come and search for Col and Canaan at the chapel, even though her silly brother might find himself in trouble once again. She often said that he only saw half of half the world. Because her silly brother was not very good with women, and he was oblivious to those with less-than-savory motives. And that meant if his little sister wanted to hide something from her big brother, then that would fall perfectly into his blind spot, and he would never find out. The way she had acted on her way to see Lutia was perfectly preserved in his memory, and he mentally reviewed every detail. Even the most minute movement she had made took on a new meaning. “Archivist…Canaan…?” he called. Canaan peered at him curiously. “When Myuri caught up to us, she appeared from behind, didn’t she?” “Er…” That must have been an unexpected question. After a moment of hesitation, Canaan nodded. “I believe so, yes. We suddenly heard footsteps behind us, which was quite surprising.” Her footsteps were sudden. She was a wolf. She could approach in total silence until her breath was on his neck. Perhaps she had done so to not to scare them, but that, too, was odd. Since when did Myuri have such composure and thoughtfulness? This girl had earnestly bound him with string because she could not stand the thought of her older brother getting kidnapped again. Yet he had been drawn out by false information. If she knew that he had barely managed to escape danger in that old chapel, she would not have been acting like that. The moment she saw they were okay, she would have lost all rational thought and chased after his attackers, her eyes blazing. “Mister Le Roi.” The seasoned bookseller stood silently. “When Myuri came to the inn and found out about the boy’s false message, what was she acting like?” Le Roi blinked and brought his hand to his chin in thought. “She acted like she had quite the experience, yes. She gave her orders and then dashed from the inn at full speed. She flew into a total panic last time, so perhaps she learned from that.” And then, in her calm, Myuri had left the sword with her wolf crest in her room, and then carefully pushed her sash all the way to the bottom of her sack. Col could say, with total confidence, that this was off. That would be entirely out of character for her. Myuri was doing something she did not want her wolf crest to see her doing. As for what that might be, that conclusion, plus the way she was acting when she caught up to them in the little space in the alley, naturally led him to his answer. Myuri had known about the attack ahead of time. If anything, she knew there was no danger to it at all. The only interpretation here was that, ultimately, Myuri was involved with both the false message and the attack. The only thing Col did not know was her motive. The first thing he thought was that she was putting on a show to tickle her desire for adventure. This girl had done nothing but write because she believed that the commotion with Nordstone should have had a more exciting outcome. And it was not long ago that her brother had been kidnapped by their enemies, so perhaps she wanted a do-over of that as well. But not on paper—in real life. And so perhaps her plan was to gallantly dash in and save her brother after he had been lured into the old chapel, captured, and was being taken away by the enemy. Now that he thought about it, that would easily explain why so few had stormed the chapel, and what they had been saying to one another. Are they pulling our legs?! The southern eagles who conspired with Myuri understood that they were just there to scare the outsider working with Lutia with a little show. Helping a little girl play knight at the same time was just a little extra fun added to their booze-filled days. The logic was frighteningly straightforward. But the idea was unreasonable in a different sense. Col could not imagine Myuri pulling off a stunt like this. Because that would mean the traitor would be Myuri herself. She had lamented Lutia’s plight like it was her own. She hated the southern eagles’ arrogance. She had been so desperate and passionate about giving them a good thrashing. He could not imagine any of that was just for show. And here she was, throwing them out while they were in the middle of solving Lutia’s problems. He could not imagine why she would arrange a situation where they would have to leave. Did all this mean she wanted to play out the danger itself? For example, maybe she wanted a justification for using her wolf powers to get back at the southern eagles, especially if they played dirty to plot a kidnapping by using a false message. That she could not use her fangs and claws vexed her. If she had all the right reasons in place, then she would be more than happy to physically rip into the greedy southern eagles. This sounded much more likely for the cunning, rambunctious girl. But this line of logic came with a caveat. If the reasoning held that Myuri had plotted to give herself an excuse to use her wolf power, then that would require her trampling on Lutia’s resolve to survive in the human world. In her fury, Myuri occasionally bared her fangs, knowing full well what she was doing was wrong, but that did not seem to be the case this time. She had been calm the entire time. No—she was not calm. She was aware she was doing something unbefitting of her wolf crest. She was ashamed. But then it made even less sense that she would do something to undermine Lutia’s resolve. If she were crossing that line, then she would need fervor on the level of frenzy. Why had she done something that led her astray from the path of a knight to the point where she wanted to hide from the wolf crests on her sash and sword? And there was one thing Col simply did not want to believe. Myuri was a mischievous, selfish, and wild child, but he thought she understood the difference between good and evil. “Isn’t this all…Myuri’s plot?” he murmured, and everything fell into place. “Oh, that’s right!” When he exclaimed, Canaan flinched in surprise. “Mister Le Roi,” Col began. “If I may ask you about Miss Lutia.” “Yes, of course.” The bookseller, used to dealing with eccentric clients who tended to lose themselves in their own worlds, seemed somewhat eager. “Do you know how long she has been in the city?” Canaan stared wide-eyed and blankly. The bookseller, who had spent his days rushing about the city looking into one thing or another, spoke as though he was telling an old tale. “A rather long time, I believe. I heard it’s been about four or five years since she began fighting the southern eagles, so…” I knew it, Col wanted to say, but he swallowed his words. “Due to how the quickly the population changes in the city, not many could say exactly, but I heard that she came to Aquent even before she began fighting. I heard she had been picked up off the street by an eccentric noble, so she must have been an orphan. Sent to the academic city as encouragement to find work, attempted to learn as a gesture of thanks, but instead endured terrible hardship… The story is quite well-known. I believe she’s fighting the rich students because of that bitter experience. Even if it means abandoning her studies, as it were.” Le Roi’s eyes were calm and distant, unlike when Col or Myuri looked at Lutia. “That is why I recommended we approach the matter of aiding her carefully. The roots of the problems in this town are deep, and despite how long Miss Lutia has been fighting, they are still yet to be solved.” The reason Le Roi’s conclusion felt so cold was not because he had made a particularly heartless judgment. It was because Col and Le Roi had a difference in perception. Le Roi knew that Lutia was devoting herself to a fight where she had very slim chances of victory. Furthermore, the bookseller was experienced in these sort of worldly affairs; it was likely he had noticed things about Lutia at the very beginning that Col had not even thought to consider even after all this time. “May I ask you something?” Col asked. “Anything,” Le Roi replied. “I heard that Miss Lutia was learning church law so that she could confront the ones threatening to take her inheritance rights.” From the way she spoke about it, it did not seem she was particularly intent on hiding that story, and of course, Le Roi knew of it as well. And so he nodded generously. “Who is the lord?” Col asked. A curious look crossed Canaan’s face at the question. Le Roi ran a hand over his closely shaved head, white sections of hair still visible. “I see. So you didn’t know.” Col was right. “The lineage died out many years, and the land is now firmly in the hands of another. Which means that Miss Lutia is— Master Col?!” That was enough. Col whirled on his heel to run after Myuri. There was a reason Lutia was fighting for the poor students at the expense of her studies. Lutia had said that after meeting the eccentric lord in the forest, she learned of a life where others would brush her hair in front of the fire, and she had come to understand the meaning of the word loneliness. So many times had she said the word pack. And despite how it might have frustrated her, she vowed to hide her fangs and claws and pretend to be fully human, all for the sake of the pack. And so the reason why Lutia had opened her eyes so wide when Col and his entourage had so easily squared away all the problems surrounding the poor students was not shock at how skillfully the Twilight Cardinal worked. She had been dumbfounded at the naïveté of his actions as he tried to tear down the walls she had built up to shield her eyes from a reality she did not want to see. Had the Twilight Cardinal never shown up, then the problems of this city would have lasted forever and ever. But those very problems had created a home for a wolf who had nowhere else to go. “And that makes me—” Nothing like a savior at all. Nothing but an unwanted guest. And at some point, Myuri realized what was going on and offered her help. Now everything was clear. “I can’t believe this—!” Not even Col was sure exactly who he was shouting at. Though the curtain of night had fallen over the city long ago, the center of the city was still full of life—young men wandered about, singing together in groups; boys loitered on the street corners; street vendors and bards flocked to them in hopes of getting their business. Yet even there, some boys used the lights that lit up the nightlife to read books, to write. It was an atmosphere unique to the academic cities that could not be found anywhere else. It was a strange city, like a mix of the spheres of children and adults, a world apart from everything else. All of them spent time here that was neither strictly adult nor strictly childish, living in the daze of a temporary nightmare. Col spotted a figure walking along the main street of the city. It was Myuri—a figure he would never mistake. “M—” The moment he opened his mouth, he regretted his carelessness. The wolf girl noticed his presence in the crowd immediately, and she whipped around to look at him. The surprise lasted for only a moment on her face. She understood what was going on right away because the same thing had happened over and over and over in Nyohhira. The tomboyish girl was tucking her tail between her legs, regretting the results of her latest antics. But right now, she did not have the proof of her knighthood on her person, so there was nothing to reproach her for being unreasonable. And so, despite being a wolf, Myuri dashed off like a fleeing hare. Col called after her. “Sto— Please, wait!” Myuri ignored his cries and fled into an alleyway. Col gave chase, but he could not keep up with her. Just as he thought that, Col spotted Myuri standing in a brighter spot in the alleyway up ahead, as though she had swum through the deep darkness to reach the other shore. “Oh, come on!” He squinted into the dark, leaping over crates, stepping over piles of brick, crawling under doors removed from houses for repair, all in pursuit of Myuri. The difference in their speed was so great that he quickly lost sight of her, but he knew Myuri well. It was times like these that she would alternate turning right and left in her escape. Col carefully turned right, left, right, left, making sure not to lose track. And just as he was starting to taste the blood in his lungs, he came to a dead end. But Myuri was not there. If this were a mountain bear, a creature who carefully retraced its steps to hide in the brush and craftily take up position behind its pursuer, he would be more wary of footsteps going the other way. But while he might not know what Myuri would do if she were calm, she had never once shown the presence of mind to think of such trickery when she ran away after getting in trouble for one of her pranks. Col caught his breath and wiped away the sweat on his forehead as he stood waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and that was when he spotted the tip of a white tail behind a crate at the end of the dead end. The sight made him want to lose his patience, made him want to scold her, even made him want to laugh, but he could understand bits and pieces of how Myuri felt from it—though she had genuinely wanted to escape him, a part of her wanted him to find her. “Myuri.” His voice was kinder than he was expecting. This was due in part to how tired he was, and partly because he knew it was entirely possible that she already regretted what she had done. “You planned the attack, didn’t you?” The ends of the fur on the tail stood on end, and the tail quickly pulled behind the crate. “You didn’t wear your sword or sash because you knew you were doing something bad.” Myuri remained silent. Col sighed and stepped toward the crate. As he rounded it, he saw a sight he had seen one too many times in Nyohhira: a wolf pup trying to make herself smaller. “Good grief.” He had sighed so many times that he was certain God was fed up with him. “If this were your plan alone, I would string you up upside down by your tail.” All the hairs on her silver tail stood on end, and her tail whipped around to her other side to stay out of his reach. “Despite how thoughtless you may be, you would never disrespect Miss Lutia’s feelings. And that means she knew about this attack, too. And that tells me that she has her motives. Because the lord and lady she so loved and respected already rest at God’s side.” Myuri said nothing in return. Her hunched back betrayed her lack of spirit. It seemed he had been correct. Col’s ragged breath slowly calmed, and he took a deep breath and thought. “What I don’t understand are your motives. Why would you facilitate such a wicked deed?” That was the mystery. Regardless of whether Lutia had brought it up to Myuri herself, or if Myuri had picked up on Lutia’s thoughts at some point on her own, all she had needed to do was tell Col what sort of predicament Lutia was in. Even if she wanted to keep Lutia forever in this slumber, there was still no reason for her to hide it from him, or plot out an attack that went against her ideals as a knight. Her foolish older brother was generally softhearted, so she could have easily swayed him. Simply explaining what was going on as he innocently tried to solve all these problems, and asking him to pull back would have been a surefire way to resolve this. But Myuri had not taken that option. Instead, she instigated the encounter at the chapel instead. And most likely, she did so with Lutia’s help. So while Col on her tail along this line of thinking, the last piece of the puzzle did not fit. The answer lay deep in the darkness where he could not see his own hand. And generally, in times like these, he would press forward only to fall into a deep, deep pit. He needed to know everything so he could pick the correct path forward. “Myuri,” he said, looking down at the girl huddled in the dark. “Please tell me. Aren’t you a—” Knight? Perhaps Myuri thought that if she let him finish his question, then she would never call herself a knight again. Her drooped ears shivered, and the wolf’s weak voice cut him off. “It was…Lutia’s letter.” “Hmm?” “I knew…from Lutia’s letter.” As Col wondered when they received a letter from Lutia, he realized she spoke of the letters she was exchanging with her allied scholars. “Blondie’s letter came with the smell of travel. But Lutia’s didn’t smell like that. And that’s when I figured out she was lying about talking to important people who lived far away.” Perhaps she had calmed somewhat as she spoke, or perhaps she found her resolve. Yet despite rising to her feet, she still did not look at him, likely out of guilt, and was turned to the side. “What I didn’t understand was why Lutia would lie to us. She’s fighting for everyone, hiding her fangs and claws despite how painful that is, so why?” The story of Lutia’s lord was necessary for answering that question. While the reason Le Roi looked into those details was because he felt no particular attachment to her, Col and Myuri did not question her at all because she was a wolf. This was not a question of whether she was actively telling a lie, but whether she was telling the whole truth. And while Lutia was not lying to them, she had very cleverly hidden her tracks. “But I noticed something weird about how she was acting earlier. That’s why I knew she had to be hiding something.” “What seemed strange?” Col asked in reply. Myuri sighed, as though fed up with how slow-witted her brother was. “She wasn’t happy when you were going to solve all her problems.” “………” Her foolish brother believed that she was simply surprised from watching him solve those difficult problems in one fell swoop. At that point, Myuri’s own eyes had been shining. “And so when I figured out the letter, a lot of questions started floating in my head.” That was when she realized Lutia did not, in fact, want any of the problems in this city to be resolved. “…And so you already knew when I left with Canaan.” Myuri had said she would be staying back to talk about saving the kids. Though Col noticed something was unusual about that, he figured she had simply been occupied with planning the operation, as she had been before. But there was not a lot of time left to lead the benevolent sheep wielding powerful resolutions in their attempt to solve the city’s problems far, far away. Lutia and Myuri had no choice but to resort to their roughhewn strategy. “Yeah. Lutia doesn’t want any of these problems to be solved. She has nowhere to go home to. She said that if she stays here fighting forever, then it’d be like time stopped.” There was no way to know if Lutia’s lord and lady were already on their deathbeds by the time she came to the Aquent. Regardless, she was far too late to master ecclesiastic law and fight for the preservation of their land. There was no point in gaining a degree at this point. But at the same time, to leave the city without gaining said degree felt like she was betraying the expectations of the noble couple who sent her here. And much like the boys who reached for the alcohol in a desperate attempt to make the night last longer, afraid of the tomorrow that would come as they slept, Lutia collected massive problems to keep right in front of her. “I can sort of understand why you sympathized with her. But…” She could have told Col what was going on, and then they could have given up on the problems in this city and moved onto the next city for Lutia’s sake. There was no reason for her to orchestrate an attack, going so far to stoop to unknightly deeds all to hide Lutia’s circumstances. That was when Myuri finally looked at Col. The understanding she was doing something bad, coupled with uncontainable irritation, bubbled up to the surface as tears brimming in her eyes. “You’re…nice…, Brother.” Her words and expression did not match. “That’s why, if Lutia’s problems were never solved, you would keep trying all sorts of things to help her, right? That’s…what I wanted…” “What…?” He was sure that even God would not blame him for his mind shattering from this development. He did not understand what Myuri was trying to say. Had they not conspired to make sure Col would never try to solve Lutia’s problems? Yet here Myuri was, saying she wanted him to keep trying to solve her problems. This was like the ancient logic question—does the snake that eats its own tail ever get full? “What does this…?” As Col began to ask in return, Myuri shook her head, irritated. “It’s just like I said. You’re nice, Brother. Even if we left this place behind, you would worry about Lutia forever, and you would try everything you could to help her solve her problems. Right?”
Chapter 110
47 min read