“Sir Zeke!”
It was dark. As she wandered alone across the mountainside, Cecily continued to call his name.
“Sir Zeke, where are you? Please answer me!”
Cecily wasn’t sure how long she had been searching now—two hours, maybe? At any rate, there had been no trace of Zeke—she hadn’t found the slightest clue that might tell her where he was.
The sun had long set. Up in the wooded mountains, it got both dark and cold quickly.
Maybe he’s headed back to the royal capital.
Cecily couldn’t help but wish for this. That would be far preferable than the other possibility.
According to Greta, Zeke was in search of a mythical spring that was said only to exist in legends. It was Greta who had led Cecily to overhear the conversation with Cain. Cecily had been in Marjorika’s house and had let Zeke leave before eventually heading down to the first floor.
Greta had come out of the reception room and found the despondent Cecily there. Her mother had said, “Something interesting’s going to happen in just a moment, so wait in this room and keep your ears open,” before forcing Cecily to wait without a clue as to what was going on.
Eventually, Cain had showed up and Cecily had listened to their conversation from the next room with bated breath. Listening was all she could do.
The legendary spring where the fairy king is said to live...
Everyone who had grown up in the witch village had gone out looking for this spring at least once. Even Cecily had slipped out of the village to look for it in her childhood. Yet no one had ever found it.
The village itself may have been hidden, but the mountain wasn’t so large that the average traveler would meet with much danger. Not only that, travelers or merchants used the safer, paved path down in the lower parts of the mountain. Suffice to say, this wasn’t the sort of place where myths slept.
In other words, when everyone grew up, they came to understand that this spring just didn’t exist. They would watch the children of the village get excited about it and merely reminisce on the times when they themselves went out looking for it.
There was no way Zeke would seriously have gone out looking for something like that.
But here Cecily was, in the mountains, calling his name.
Cecily wasn’t well versed in the mountains herself. They may not have been particularly tall mountains, but there was the danger of bumping into magical beasts or dangerous animals.
Using her lantern as she continued her search, fear crept into her heart as she wandered this area that she was unfamiliar with. Rustling sounds from the bushes caused her to jump in fright. Her legs were growing tired.
Maybe I should head back soon...
Even if Zeke wasn’t headed back to the royal capital, there was a chance that he’d given up and headed back to Marjorika’s. Apparently he hadn’t slept at all last night—it was unlikely he would be able to continue dragging around an exhausted body.
It was just as Cecily was turning to head back that she noticed something. There, on the branch of a low tree, was a piece of fabric. She took it in her hand and held it up to the light. It was a blue scrap of high-quality fabric.
It looked a lot like the fabric of the uniform Zeke had been wearing.
“No...”
Peering behind the tree that the fabric had been hanging from, she noticed a steep slope where many trees had fallen down. It looked like a heavy storm had toppled them.
Did Sir Zeke fall down this slope?
Cecily felt the blood drain from her face.
If he had fallen down this slope, then there was a chance he had injured himself on the broken branches and tree trunks. If he had landed badly, he could even have died.
Panic engulfing her, Cecily raised her lantern high, but the light didn’t travel far. She wouldn’t be able to see Zeke, even if he was halfway down the slope.
“I’ll head down and make sure,” she said to herself.
The way would be a bit long, but if she followed the trees nearby, she could make her way safely to the bottom.
Cecily put her strength into all four of her limbs as she headed down a route that was barely a path. One of her hands was carrying the lantern as well, so it wasn’t an easy descent.
Pain ran through her hand every now and then—she had probably caught her palm on something as she used the trees to keep herself steady. But she couldn’t waste time worrying about such trifling discomfort.
After a half hour or so, Cecily finally came to the clearing at the bottom of the slope.
Maybe it was just by chance, but there was a small spring near where she emerged. No—it was less a spring and more of a pond or even a big puddle.
But this was no time to ponder the best descriptor for the pond—for next to it lay Zeke.
Holding her breath, Cecily rushed to his side.
“You’re all beaten up...”
As Cecily had expected, he must have slipped in the dark. Here he was at the bottom of the slope, face up and unconscious. His clothes were covered in mud and dirt as well as stained with blood.
Feeling a rush of emotion—a mix of relief and pain—Cecily wiped away the tears that started to well up. This was no time to cry. Cecily was the only one who could help him.
Cecily placed the lantern upon a flat boulder and opened up Zeke’s shirt to see if he was injured.
One small blessing was that Zeke didn’t seem to have broken any bones. She wasn’t sure if he had hit his head on the way down—at least, there didn’t seem to be any blood there.
Then, at the sight of the bag which she had placed near Zeke, she remembered something.
“That’s right. Lady Charlotte mentioned something, didn’t she...”
Charlotte had said Cecily had something in her bag that might help when the time came. Before heading out to look for Zeke, Cecily had gone to fetch the bag from her room. Prioritizing speed, she hadn’t had the time to organize her things and had simply taken it without even opening it. Maybe that had been a mistake.
Cecily opened her bag and began rummaging inside it. Her fingers encountered the soft sensation of fabric. Pulling it out, she noticed it was a handkerchief.
“I suppose I can use this to wrap one of his wounds.”
Hold on—she knew she had proper bandages, or something more suitable.
With this thought in mind, Cecily brought the lantern closer to her bag to get a better look inside, but then noticed that there was a design on the handkerchief.
And there’s something written on it...
She peered closer, wondering what it could be. One word was illuminated in the flickering lantern light.
Zeke
The handkerchief was embroidered. On it was a name sewn in strong, blue thread. Then, in a combination of silver and blue threads, there was a wyvern taking flight.
Each stitch must have been threaded with such care—Cecily could tell simply by glancing at it. She stroked it softly, as if confirming something. She couldn’t help but continue to stroke it, again and again.
“Ah...”
Plip.
“Ahh...”
Tears trickled down Cecily’s smooth cheeks and landed on her hands.
I was the one...who embroidered this.
Cecily had embroidered this handkerchief. She knew that now—by look and by feel. It wasn’t perfect work by any means, but she remembered that she had worked so hard and spent a lot of time threading it.
Wiping her tears away, Cecily then slapped her cheeks to bring herself back to her senses.
There were things to do before she could cry. First, she needed to tend to Zeke’s wounds. Rifling through her bag, Cecily found a first aid box and pulled it out.