Meanwhile, in the western tower, the topic of conversation was nearly identical:
“You want me to... escape? What for?” asked Laplace.
Likewise, Tanya wasn’t sure why the princess was quite so panicked. What was she afraid of? Tanya had no idea. All she knew was that Arianora had an intense reaction to the name Laplace.
Running from Laplace would make sense—after all, she was the mythical Wicked Dragonwhore or whatever. But no... Arianora seemed to fear for Laplace’s safety.
“You want me, the Great Sorceress, to turn tail and run? I’m afraid that’s a tall order, Ari.”
“Listen, Princess... I don’t think you understand just how strong we are.”
“Oui, oui! Surely you saw us at the Sparring Tournament, did you not?”
Tanya nodded in agreement. They wouldn’t go down easily—or so she hoped, at least. Sure, their opponent was the so-called “immortal” Court Grand Mage who had sealed Laplace away for 300 years, but they weren’t exactly pushovers themselves, right?
“I know, but... you mustn’t stay! You have to run!” Arianora insisted. She was clearly terrified of something, but what?
Laplace let out a sigh. “Fine, fine. C’est bon, d’accord. But could you at least explain why? If you must know, I’m simply burning with the desire to punch Fa—er, Maxwell—right in the face.”
At this, Arianora’s gaze wavered... in the direction of her bound and gagged attendant, Vis.
“Is it something you don’t want her to hear?”
“No...”
Arianora and Vis held eye contact for a moment, and then Vis quietly nodded.
Who IS this woman? I can’t quite get a read on her, Laplace thought to herself. Something about her seemed... inconsistent, though Laplace couldn’t put her finger on what.
Then Arianora began to speak—quietly, but firmly.
“I’ll give you the short version. This information is all strictly confidential, of course... and... once I’ve explained everything, it is my sincere wish that you, Lady Tanya, and you, Lady Laplace, will help me find a solution to that which troubles me.”
Her expression didn’t belong to a thirteen-year-old girl, but an Aweigkorrt... a nation’s ruler.
“Over the past 300 years, Lord Maxwell has been using his authority as Court Grand Mage to create... a dreadful weapon.”
“A weapon, you say?”
“Yes. And if he captures you, Lady Laplace, he will seize all of Pajan within an instant.”
At this, Tanya hastily cut in. “Look, uh, I don’t see where you’re going with this, Your Highness.” All she knew was that it sounded really, really bad.
Arianora closed her eyes and sighed quietly, as if to keep herself calm. “Forgive me. It appears I’ll need to explain in greater detail.”
And so she recounted the evil deeds of Maxwell the Court Grand Mage.
Once upon a time, 300 years ago—Pajan was at war, Laplace was the perfect super-soldier, and immortality was almost within Maxwell’s grasp. These three things corrupted him deeply.
Laplace had served to bring him glory, but now her existence poisoned his heart.
“Using the technology he’s honed over the past 300 years, he’s now trying to mass produce Lady Laplace.”
“Mass produce a knockout like yours truly?”
“Yes. You see, after he sealed you away... he came to sorely regret it.”
“...Really now?”
“He missed having the power to dominate foreign countries, and he believed you were the missing component to unlocking his own immortality.”
“Oh, right. So that’s what he regretted. Got it.” Laplace let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Just a component. I should’ve known.”
Indeed, these days she knew better. These days she understood that Maxwell was only interested in her not as a daughter, but as a tool he could use.
“Maxwell would always tell me that you had a rebellious glint in your eyes. And although you complied with his orders, deep down, you opposed him.”
“Hahaha! How very perceptive. Truth be told, I wanted to stand up to him—I just didn’t know how.”
“Because of that, he has spent every waking moment of the past 300 years trying to create a version of you that he can control like a puppet. And after dipping into the imperial treasury time and again... at long last, We are the end result.”
“...‘We’...?”
“Yes. We are mere vessels created in her image.”
“...What?”
“However,” Arianora continued, “We are far from complete. Maxwell has said that he requires the blood of the Dragon God—Lady Laplace’s blood—to finish Us. Thus, he has said he would need to break the powerful seal upon you in order to perfect his creations.”
It was a serious story, to be sure, but Tanya couldn’t help but scoff at him silently. What, you can’t reverse your own spell? What kind of Mage are you?
“But Maxwell has already learned of your revival. He knows you are here. Please, I’m begging you... Without your blood, his despicable desires will never come to fruition. Ever. That is why I need you to escape.” Arianora hesitated, then finished, “Or failing that... you must defeat him and cure Pajan of this corruption!”
Her tone was desperate. Pleading.
“I don’t care how long We are forced to suffer—you mustn’t let Maxwell complete Us, no matter what!”
“Hmmm...” Laplace murmured to herself.
So all that glory and prestige STILL isn’t enough for him? He STILL wants to be immortal? Of course. He’s not satisfied with JUST mass-producing a bunch of miserable little girls. No, he’s a filthy beast that bites the hand that feeds him. And someone needs to put this rotting zombie back in its grave.
“Très bien. Just so we’re clear, I was already planning on punching him, but I can end his life if need be. He has no business being immortal, that’s for sure.”
But first...
“Now then, could you tell me a bit more about these ‘vessels’ you speak of?”
✦ ✦ ✦
“ ‘To all the little girls out there who dream of adventure...’ ”
Arianora Aweigkorrt could only pray that, in her next life, she would have the freedom to pursue her dreams.
Arianora (or as she was known then, Nameless Girl) was born inside an incubator deep underground, where no sunlight could reach. It was a small, cramped space, and she was but one of many, many Others. She couldn’t remember when it had happened, but at some point she gained sentience, right there in the tank.
These girls were artificially created with the blood of the White Dragon, the Black Dragon, and who knows what else. Above all, They existed to serve Maxwell.
He created vessels of all different kinds. Either They were used as disposable guinea pigs in his experiments, or They were left in their tanks to rot; once Maxwell determined that the power They possessed was lesser than that of the Great Sorceress, They were deemed worthless in his eyes.
They were tools to be used up and thrown away. And when Their bodies decayed, They were repurposed as nutrients for the next girl. Floating lifelessly in their tanks, they were all merely Nameless Girls. Created only as tools, born only to ultimately die.
They were pawns. Stepping stones to a perfectly subservient Laplace. Here in the laboratory, that was all They could ever be.
And yet...
“I shall give you a name... Henceforth, you shall be known as Arianora Aweigkorrt.”
Suddenly—through luck or misfortune, she couldn’t be sure—one Nameless Girl had a name.
The Emperor of Pajan was a painfully mediocre man. He had no ill intent, but he lacked ambition. Nor did he possess the courage to break away from those traditions that survived through sheer inertia.
Maxwell was a legend. He wielded powerful influence over the Aweigkorrt royal family. And the Emperor was not strong enough to oppose him.
Only once had he and his beloved Empress managed to conceive a child. Tragically, the pregnancy ended in stillbirth, and the Empress had sunk into a deep depression.
Then he showed up—the parasite who had clung to Pajan for the past 300 years. It was Maxwell, the legendary Court Grand Mage. And he told them he could replace the child that they’d lost.
“We can summon your beloved daughter back into this world.”
With the technology he had fervently dedicated his life to researching, such a thing would be all too easy, he told them.
To toy with human life was terribly taboo, but the emperors of the past had all turned a blind eye to Maxwell’s misdeeds. And now the present Emperor looked upon this forbidden technology—and rejoiced.
And so the little guinea pig was scooped out of her tank and given the name of Arianora, the precious princess of Pajan. Meanwhile, Maxwell’s distasteful experiments continued... but the Emperor did nothing to stop him. Those nameless lives meant nothing to the named.
Newly imprisoned in the role of princess, the little girl thought to herself:
What makes me so different from my “useless” sisters? What am I? What are We? And... why am I the only one given the privilege of a name?