“I’M sorry, I’ll do whatever you ask. So please don’t be mad, Sei,” Yura apologized in earnest as they stood facing one another in the tiny garden.
Called out of training so suddenly, Sei’s clothes were a bit disheveled. He wasn’t wearing his cape and came only with his sword.
“…I’m not angry,” Sei said, smiling.
“I-If you’re angry, then just come out and say so!” she insisted.
Pulling his collar closed tightly with the string at his chest, Sei heaved a sigh. His rough movements made Yura shrink back.
“You mustn’t go somewhere like that again. You never know what might happen to you.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“So, what’s going on?” Sei asked, putting his cape back on. It was around the ninth hour. But in Yura’s world, the time would have been more like three o’clock in the afternoon.
She was sitting on the fountain, as she always did, and started explaining the situation. Sei remained standing. Once she finished, she took a breath, and Sei broke in.
“So, you want to know the mirror’s history?”
“…Yeah.”
“That should be easy to answer if you look in a Tolkinian history book…” he said, sitting down next to her. Adjusting his sheath, he spoke thoughtfully. “…However, I can tell you some stories right now.”
“Really?”
“About Excellius’ Sacred Treasures of Protection. They’re said to be made of earth.”
“Earth?”
Sei nodded. He turned toward Yura and knit his brows a little.
“I don’t remember the particulars, but the legend goes like this: ‘Long ago, when the mighty king Excellius first established this kingdom, there were several sacred implements he created from the earth at his feet. Each implement he made was inspired by a myth he loved, and they were all known as the Sacred Treasures of Protection.’ They’re now considered our national treasures.”
“National treasures…”
“I can’t even begin to fathom how they were made, though…” Sei said. “Long ago, Tolkinia was once known as ‘the land through which ancient magic flows.’ That’s what is written. It’s not really seen that way anymore. The implements made of earth are considered sacred. The only one that shows any trace of its ancient magic is His Majesty’s eagle. That’s what they say. You’ve likely already guessed this, but that eagle is one such implement.”
After saying all that, Sei was starting to look impatient.
“S-So…”
“The power that makes it move. That alone means we can’t deny the existence of magic.”
Yura was staring at the ground. His words turned the gears in her mind. “So, you said the problem was how to find it, right?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“…So, it does exist,” Yura muttered. Without realizing it, she clenched her fist. “It really does exist…” Yura repeated, vacantly. Suddenly feeling a little lonely, she closed her eyes.
I might be able to go home…
She felt anxious over how unreliable those words seemed, and yet, relief from the slight ray of hope they offered. The two extremes balanced awkwardly inside her heart, as if on a scale that swayed back and forth.
Sei stared at Yura in silence. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she looked a little sad. When his eyes met hers, he asked something in almost a whisper.
“…Do you not feel comfortable here?”
Yura came to her senses, like someone had splashed her with cold water. Sei instinctually recoiled.
“Th-That’s not it! I love everyone I’ve met here!” Yura proclaimed. But her voice became hoarse. She couldn’t speak. She faltered and hung her head.
“But…” Unable to continue, Yura looked down.
She felt like a cowardly cameraman who couldn’t focus on his subject. It was embarrassing, the way she couldn’t focus and look him in the eye.
I really am a coward.
Sei stared silently at Yura. Whatever was going on inside her head was a battle she needed to win on her own.
Sei lifted a hand and began stroking her hair. When Yura looked up, he looked away, apologetically.
“…No…” Yura held her breath, the tears welling up inside. She finally had to choke them back. “…I’m sorry,” she apologized in a briny voice as she began to cry.
It was a weary cry; the tears silently flowed from her eyes.
Sei’s hand continued to caress her hair. He wasn’t trying to make her stop crying, but to help her through it. It was a warm feeling, like the sun’s rays.
Yura kept her eyes downcast, focusing on the touch of his hand.
I just want to stay like this a little longer.
Feeling comforted by Sei’s gentle hand, Yura closed her eyes.
✦ ✦ ✦
“SAY, Leila, of the people coming tomorrow, who would be the easiest to talk to?” Yura asked the next morning, trying to casually broach the subject. Leila was thoroughly combing Yura’s hair.
“…To talk to?”
When it came to doing her hair, Leila was the most conscientious. As Yura expected, the lady-in-waiting didn’t think too hard before responding.
“The closest in age to you would likely be the deacon from Nikea…”
“Closest in age?”
“He’s the youngest at seventeen.”
Yura nodded. So, a year younger than me then.
“Who else?”
“Let’s see…there’s the deacon of the Eltania region. He’s a very amicable sort. He is the oldest, though…”
That was it. Yura snapped her fingers in the bathtub.
“So, what’s he like? Do you have a picture or something?”
“Pick-chure?”
Confused at this, Leila stopped brushing. Yura panicked.
“Er, a painting? Yes, a painting or something!”
Leila made a strange face. One clouded with suspicion.
“You’ve been asking some odd questions…”
“H-Have I?”
Leila, however, did not seem interested in pursuing it further. She poured some liquid onto the comb from a porcelain vial and spread it around with her finger.
“There should be a portrait…right, Sisty?”
“We probably do have one portrait of the clergy.”
Yura turned her head, trying to look behind her. Leila held her head in place.
“Hey, Leila—”
“I know…” Leila said lightly. “But, why don’t we wait until after you eat?”
It was like she’d seen right through her. Yura began to giggle. The other two exchanged wry grins.
“We’ll show you to the portrait room.”