It didn’t have anything like arms. Not complete ones, at least. Maybe they’d been blown off? It wasn’t naked. It was wearing something. And it was all sooty, but it wasn’t black, though I couldn’t say if it was red, blue, or green either. Was that fabric? Or was it some harder material, like metal? I couldn’t tell.
I walked closer.
“Nngh...” There was a voice. Or I think it was a voice. It was groaning.
“Um...” I stopped about two meters away, thinking it might have been dangerous to get closer. What did danger matter to me, though? Even after everything, I was still acting cautious.
The thing I wanted to laugh at the most always seemed to be myself.
“Are you...okay?”
“Nngh... You’re...” The thing was lying face down, but it was trying to turn itself over. I finally realized that the stuff covering its head was hair. It had been making me think of stringy insects. Like there were countless stringy insects infesting its scalp.
It took a long time, but the thing managed to turn its body onto its side, and then it lifted itself partially off the ground so that it was at an angle. It raised its face—it was probably a face, at least. That stringy, bug-like hair was growing all over its face too. In the places where I assumed its eyes were supposed to be, there were just a pair of holes, with something shining dully deep within them. Its mouth was a crack, and there were tiny fractures all around it. What skin I could see through the stringy, bug-like hair was a pale blue. No, it was blue-blue.
“You’re... Oh, I see... A volunteer soldier... From Alterna... Your name is...Haruhiro...”
“You...know me?”
“Oh, but of course...I do...”
“You’re—”
I looked up at the broken tower. Then I looked back down again. He looked pretty badly hurt. There were wounds all over his body, but I saw no sign of bleeding. It was like he didn’t even have blood flowing through his body. Did he have no blood or tears? Was he even a living creature at all?
“The Forbidden Tower’s...master?”
“Sir Unchain...is what...the margrave...called me...”
“Why—”
“Ainrand Leslie... That...is my...name...”
Maybe I should stomp the creepy head of this thing with bug-like hair that’s calling itself Ainrand Leslie until I smash it open. Either that, or I should run away right now.
I didn’t want to get involved in anything I didn’t have to. A guy like me had no business doing so.
“Shihoru... That girl...exceeded my imagination...”
“What?” I knelt down. “What’d you just say? Shihoru? Is that what you said?”
“Yes... She...completed...a new kind of magic... One nobody has ever thought of before... No magic...can equal the ancient, original magic... And yet she...”
“Shihoru... Is she...all right?”
“Even after losing...half her body...she used magic to...”
“Fly off. After destroying your tower.”
“She...destroyed it... Everything... That’s no girl... She’s a witch... A genuine witch...”
“So Shihoru really is alive, then.”
“I have...a favor to ask...”
“Huh?”
“Come closer.”
“A favor... Huh? Mister, do you have any clue what you’re saying? It was you, right? You’re the one who stole our memories.”
“I don’t...have...much time...left...”
“What do I care? How’s that my problem?”
“Just look...”
Ainrand Leslie moved his chin. He was apparently gesturing for me to look at his torso. I did. He’d been gouged right through. A big chunk of him between his chest and belly had been torn out. There had presumably been something there before, but now it was gone. There was a dark brown slime inside the cavity, and a trail of it had been left behind him as he had crawled. It looked like he had started at a grave about five meters further down the hill.
At some point, I noticed that the distance between us had shrunk, and I was close enough to him that I could’ve reached out and touched him. Had I shuffled closer to him while still kneeling on the ground? Or had he twisted the pillbug-like remains of his body to get a little closer to me?
“I want...you...to lend me...your strength... I still...have things left...to do... Things...that will not...be to your disadvantage...”
“I can’t trust that. Not coming from a guy like you.”
“You don’t...need to...”
“Huh?”
“In time, you will understand...”
“What’re you talking—”
I tried to stand up, but before I could, Ainrand Leslie opened his crack-like mouth, and a bloody arm shot out of it. Now, I said it was bloody, but it was dark brown blood—old, rotten, and unpleasant even to look at. It was awfully thin for an arm, no thicker than a child’s, and with a similar length. I only thought it to be an arm because there was a hand on the end of it.
He’s gonna grab me, I thought. That arm’s about to try to catch me. But my intuition was wrong. The arm that came out of Ainrand Leslie’s mouth didn’t grab me, it entered my mouth.
“————————!”
It rammed itself down my throat and into my stomach all at once. There was pressure on my airway, almost totally blocking it, preventing me from breathing. I seized Ainrand Leslie’s arm—the armlike thing in my mouth—with both hands, and tried to pull it out, but it kept on diving deeper and deeper.
“I cannot perish yet.”
Ainrand Leslie’s voice was echoing inside of me.
“I’ve yet to unravel the mystery of the ark.”
“————! ————————!”
“You don’t need to trust me. I will be borrowing your strength, Haruhiro.”
“——————! —————————!”
“Do not fear. I won’t mistreat you. I’ve already told you. This won’t be to your disadvantage.”
“———————! ——————————!”
“You can continue your travels. Together with me. I’m sure you’ll be able to meet that witch as well.”
“————————————————————.”
✦ ✦ ✦
How many times did I call out? Hey. Wake up. Rise and shine. Awaken. How many variations did I try?
The room was dark, but not pitch black. The hard, smooth floor wasn’t carved rock, nor was it stone tile. What was it, then? I couldn’t say. Regardless, there were blurry lines, both straight and curved, shining on the floor. They were a mixture of circles and diagrams, but what exactly they were supposed to be is another question I have no way of answering.
There was a person lying face up on the floor. A man, judging from how he was built. He had long hair, and still looked young—probably around twenty-ish. In all likelihood, he was Japanese. After some time, he stirred, and his eyes fluttered open.
“Huh?”
“You’re awake?” I said to him, and the Japanese man sat up.
“Who... Juntza? Amu? Neika? No...?”
He squinted as he looked around the room. He was surprised, confused, and disoriented. But it would have been a bit much to expect him not to be.
“Unfortunately, I’m not...Juntza? Or Amu, or Neika,” I said in a relaxed voice, trying not to agitate him.
The Japanese man sighed. “Figured not.”
“Are those your friends?”
“What?”
“Juntza. Amu. Neika. Are they friends of yours?”
“Friends... Mmm, I dunno about that. More like comrades?”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Do you...know where Juntza and the others are? They’re probably...around here somewhere.”
“No, sorry, I have no idea.”
“Oh. Okay then.”
The Japanese man lowered his head. He was thinking about something.
He should have his memories. I haven’t put him in a state where he can’t remember anything except his name.
Unlike what had been done to me. Unlike what had been done to all of us back then.
“Can you stand?” I asked, and the man nodded.
✦ ✦ ✦
