I was staring across the void, lost as to what had just happened, when a woman wearing a light-yellow veil appeared in front of me. I could tell from the tall shape of her headdress that she was wearing her hair up. Only her mouth was visible, but I gathered she could see me; she was facing me head-on. The pressure she exuded made me want to run, and it suddenly became hard to breathe.
“Hannelore, it was tremendously useful that you summoned me with your mana.”
Summoned...? Wait, is this Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time?!
Thinking back, the magic circle had appeared the moment I spoke her name. I had meant to give a simple farewell, not summon her, but there was no mistaking the fact that she was standing before me. So intense was her divine power that I could almost feel it pushing me back, reinforcing the fact that she was indeed a goddess.
To think the gazebos were connected to her by more than just rumors!
“Do lend me your vessel, Hannelore. I must summon the Zent candidate who obtained the Book of Mestionora. Under normal circumstances, I could do so without you, but she is shielded by a powerful barrier that hushes my voice and prevents my touch from reaching her. How unfortunate.”
Dregarnuhr must have meant Lady Rozemyne, who had started to wear protective charms after the last time a goddess took over her body. I could not speak conclusively, as my knowledge of the country reached only so far, but I found it hard to believe that anyone else in Yurgenschmidt was shielded so thoroughly that not even the voice of a goddess could reach her.
“Um... O holy Dregarnuhr, may I confirm that you are speaking of Lady Rozemyne, not Zent Eglantine?” I asked. Truth be told, I was unsure why she wished to summon a mere Zent candidate rather than the actual Zent.
“Yes, I suppose that is how you all address her. Indeed, she is who I seek,” the goddess replied, a smile forming on her lips.
Lady Rozemyne had transferred the Grutrissheit to then Lady Eglantine, but it seemed the gods still saw her as a Zent candidate. Perhaps they did not consider Zent Eglantine a true Zent to begin with. A complex wave of anxiety spread through my chest as I sensed myself being embroiled in a plot with the gods previously kept secret by Lady Rozemyne and the royal family.
“If we do not summon her, the past twenty-some years we have woven together will come loose and vanish,” Dregarnuhr continued, blowing away my petty concerns in an instant.
“More than two decades of history will just... disappear?” I asked.
“Only the Zent candidate can be involved with this incident.”
I was unsure what was happening, but losing twenty-some years would be an incalculable tragedy. If only Lady Rozemyne could resolve the matter, I would need to allow the goddess to summon her.
“O holy Dregarnuhr—if my vessel will suffice, then please use it as you must.”
The Goddess of Time thanked me, then vanished, her veil swaying slightly as she went.
I agreed without much thought, but is giving my body to a goddess really wise? I doubt I am anywhere near as suitable as Lady Rozemyne.
Stuck inside the blank void, I could only wait, pondering my choice in something of a daze. Dregarnuhr returned a short while later. She must have been successful, as Lady Rozemyne was with her.
“Lady Hannelore, are you okay?!”
She appeared to be dressed in some new style of riding attire. Vials ran along her chest in a rather rare fashion, but even more surprising was the intense look on her face as she ran toward me. Her hair was tied behind her head, and although she wore her rainbow feystone hair stick, her usual flower ornament was nowhere to be seen.
Wearing all those magic tools and feystones, she looks dressed for battle. It seems a tad excessive for a summons from the gods.
But then it struck me—Lady Rozemyne was being asked to prevent some disaster that threatened to undo more than two decades of Dregarnuhr’s woven threads. In the face of dangers unknown, it was only natural to prepare for the worst.
“Did the gods do anything to you?! Are you in pain or losing any of your memories?!” Lady Rozemyne exclaimed, frantic as she inspected me from head to toe.
“There is nothing to worry about,” I assured her, free of aches or anything of the sort. “I simply lent my body to Dregarnuhr and waited for the two of you to arrive.”
“The problems will come later, then. The Goddess of Time possessed you; her divine power will surely remain and cause all manner of damage to your everyday life. I will need to ask Zent Eglantine to prepare some silver cloth for you.”
“Come again? ‘Damage’?” Lady Rozemyne’s concern quickly became my own.
Dregarnuhr’s veil swayed again as she regarded my friend with a quizzical tilt of her head. “Hannelore’s body is not like yours—it resists my divine power and is especially hard to dye. If any of my influence remains, it should vanish in mere moments; it was never my intention to have it linger before.” Her face remained covered, so I knew not what kind of expression she was wearing.
“Well, what are the odds that her memory or something of equal importance is damaged, then?” Lady Rozemyne pressed.
“In this case, I am the one requesting aid; I would not play tricks as Mestionora did. I needed only for Hannelore to summon you.”
Lady Rozemyne let out a quiet sigh, and the tension seemed to leave her body. A peaceful moment passed; then she turned to me with a clouded expression.
“Because of my charms, I fear you have been drawn into matters most complex,” she said. “Please accept my sincerest apologies. Your memory should not be impacted, but you might face problems elsewhere. Vestiges of the goddess’s power are bound to remain within you, and a nettlesome fuss will come from you being touted as the Divine Avatar of Dregarnuhr.”
Back in the gazebo, the Goddess of Time had possessed my unconscious body in full view of not just my own duchy but Ehrenfest and Drewanchel as well. The accompanying light had shone so intensely that many within the nearby scholar building had also borne witness to the spectacle.
Oh, what a tricky situation this is going to be... I actually fear returning to my body!
“O Dregarnuhr, would you be so kind as to elaborate on your reason for summoning me?” Lady Rozemyne asked, a sharp look in her eyes as she gazed upon the Goddess of Time. “You have said that twenty-some years hang in the balance and that Ferdinand is at risk, but not what any of that means.”
Lady Rozemyne’s recalcitrance in the face of a genuine goddess made me anxious, but Dregarnuhr appeared unfazed. She elaborated without question, although her response did nothing to ease my confusion.
“Are you aware that I spin the threads of fate?”
“So the tales told in Yurgenschmidt say.”
“And do you know of Wentuchte the Goddess of Weaving—she who takes the threads I spin and transforms them into history with her divine instrument, the loom?”
“I know as much as is described in the Book of Mestionora,” Lady Rozemyne replied with a nod.