Early morning, the day after the fight in the lava tree mold beneath the irminsul. Guy had returned alive but cursed; he and the Sword Roses were visiting the workshop of the provisional curse instructor, Zelma Warburg.
“…Hmm…” Zelma grunted.
She had Guy standing upright and was prodding him all over.
Watching with bated breath, Katie couldn’t stop herself from saying, “W-well, Instructor Zelma?”
“Anything to be done?” Oliver chimed in.
Finishing her exam, Zelma turned toward them.
“Long story short, not any time soon. The curse energy has acknowledged the host and attached itself. In that state, it might be infectious—but it won’t leave. If I’m to forcibly remove it, I’ll need a few months, minimum—and it could well take years.”
“……!”
That dire proclamation made Guy wince and his friends turn pale. Zelma shook her head; this was not as bad as it sounded.
“Naturally, if needed, I’ll do just that. But there’s little point in rushing things. Baldia will stop by long before I finish the procedure—unlike Vanessa, the Gnostic Hunters’ve gotta be careful how they use her, so she’s not exactly stuck on the front lines.”
“…Oh?” said Katie.
“You mean—,” Oliver began.
“She could yank this curse out in a second. She’s your mother in curses, and there ain’t a better host the world over. In other words, you’ll likely only be stuck with it for a couple of months. That make you feel any better, Mr. Greenwood?”
Guy let out a huge sigh of relief. Oliver felt the same; Zelma was Baldia’s substitute and clearly just as inclined to wind people up. She should very much have started with that information.
Katie was so relieved that she staggered, and Nanao caught her. Zelma watched with a twisted smile on her face before changing tacks.
“And there’s a more positive take on that waiting period—you have a choice here. What kind of magecraft will you pursue? This gives you time to think on that.”
“…Time to choose, huh?” said Guy.
“Yeah. And you know what I’m about talking about. That curse is thorny but could also be the gift of a lifetime. It’s a fact that you came back alive from Lombardi’s territory. The situation may have forced your hand—but that power is now your own.”
Strong words, and Guy’s gaze dropped to his hands. From the moment he’d taken on this curse, it had never felt borrowed. It had agreed with him far too well. Perhaps that was just proof of his aptitude for hosting it.
“Seems a waste to just let go of it. I’m not trying to back Baldia here, but I am a curse wrangler—and I say don’t be hasty. Think it over. The next few weeks will make the pros and cons of curse wrangling all too clear. It ain’t gonna hurt to make your decision in light of that experience, and I’ll spare no effort to help you control it. Out of respect for your natural talents.”
“B-but, Guy, a curse wrangler—?”
Katie’s emotions spilled out—and Chela wrapped her arms around the curly-haired girl, a hand over her mouth.
“You must not say that, Katie,” Chela urged, anguished. “It is not for us to decide what path Guy’s magecraft follows. That is something each of us must fret over for ourselves alone.”
“!”
Katie took that admonishment to heart, hanging her head. No matter how close they were, this was an unwritten mage law, and it could not be ignored. And one that came right back at her—more than anyone else here, Katie had proven insistent on following her own magecraft no matter how much anyone tried to stop her.
“Of course, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” said Zelma. “Living with curses means you gotta be careful in every aspect of life. The closer you are to someone, the easier it is to transmit. If you learn to control it, that’s less of a concern—but practically speaking, you’re gonna have to distance yourself a while.”
Zelma was hammering that point home.
Weighing her words, Pete asked, “Then should we not share a workshop?”
“Better not, no. If you aren’t a wrangler, safer to limit yourselves to conversation on campus,” she told the group. “And to be very clear, don’t go assuming we can just take it back off you if it does transfer. The moment it’s hit you once, that’s a shared curse. The longer that goes on, the more likely the ‘host’ goes from individual to your whole crew—and then you’re all cursed.”
A leaden silence settled over the room. Everyone was forced to see just what living with a curse meant, just how hard being a wrangler was. Like they could see their friend’s shoulders diminishing in the distance. Without thinking about it, Oliver started to reach out his hand.
“…Guy—”
“Don’t, Oliver.”
That harsh voice made him freeze. As Oliver quivered, Guy took a step away, toward the curse instructor.
“Thanks for examining me, Instructor Zelma,” Guy said. “I’ll be heeding your advice and keeping my distance. Can I come to you with any problems?”
“Of course. Tonight, even. I’ll leave half my bed unoccupied.”
“Spare me those jokes. I got enough on my plate already.” He sighed and turned from her. Seeing the sea of grave expressions, he scratched his head. “Can’t exactly ask you not to worry,” he told his friends. “But we gotta roll with it. I’m gonna let this stew a while. Maybe it’s the opportunity I needed. I ain’t exactly prone to introspection.”
“N-no—”
Tears in her eyes, Katie took a step forward—and Nanao and Chela each put an arm around her.
“I know exactly how you feel, but you must control yourself, Katie.”
“Indeed. Clinging to him now will only make this harder for Guy.”
That made Katie stop, but her eyes were still pleading with him. Begging him not to go anywhere, her gaze filled with turbulent emotion. That resonated. Guy barely suppressed the instinct to reach out to her and was forced to tear his eyes away. He looked to the face of another friend.
“It’s not like we’ll be apart forever. Just a temporary separation,” Pete said. “I’m not upset. Fix that curse and come on back.”
“Ha-ha, appreciate it, Pete.”
Guy very much meant that. If anyone else tried to pin him down, he wasn’t certain he could hold out. So he ended this quick. He couldn’t bear to look at Katie again, instead settling for waving over his shoulder at Nanao and Chela. Then he turned to the last of his friends.
“My bad, Oliver. Look after Katie for me.”
“…You got it.”
With no other choice, Oliver nodded. Guy stepped closer, standing almost shoulder to shoulder.
“Take it all on,” he growled. “You can’t afford to hold back here.”
“”
That took Oliver’s breath away, but Guy was already past him and out the door.
Oliver was scared to even consider what that last phrase meant.