Sancta. The word referred to items that possessed a power akin to magic. They were created sometimes, just every once in a while, when someone prayed at the great cathedral that stood at the center of Cururunelvia, the land of prayer.
The hat, Cururunelvia informed me, had been made when she had offered a prayer herself, wishing that she could turn invisible.
“This way, anybody can use a magic-like power. Anyone has the potential to find a solution to some difficult situation.”
What did I think of that? she asked me.
Sancta, in other words, were the perfect way of bridging the differences in physical capacity between different groups of people. A fitting solution for her ideally equitable country.
“Doesn’t sound so bad,” I said, looking back at her and nodding. I knew she was telling the truth with what she said. If I had any doubts, it was that useful tools always came with a cost.
“I think it would be even better if there was some way to undo the prayers,” I said.
“You think so, too, huh?”
“Great power always comes at a price. Someone might even try to destroy this country by turning some awful wish into a sancta.”
“My student said the same thing. She thinks only mages should be able to use the power of magic.”
“I’m just worried about people being led astray by the temptations of power.”
“I think you’re both pessimists. I don’t believe people are really that foolish.”
“And I believe you’re being naive.”
“Heard that one already, too.”
“And what did you say to it?”
“I didn’t know what to say! That’s why I came to you.”
“Well, now I’ve heard your story, but my opinion hasn’t changed.”
“You still think we need some way to make it like the prayers never happened?”
“Is that technologically possible?”
“The sancta are engineered so that the magical energy bestowed upon them can’t be stripped back out. If the Cururunelvia statue reabsorbed the magic from a sancta as soon as it was created, what would be the point?”
“I’m looking for an actual answer.”
“Practically, it is not possible.”
“I see…”
Meaning that if a sancta were created for a foul purpose, the only way to deal with it would be to physically destroy it.
I took the pointy hat from Cururunelvia and sighed. “Even this thing isn’t really safe. There are so many ways a person could misuse it. Maybe you should have the statue check certain prohibitions when people pray to it.”
I put the hat on my head, thinking I would teach Cururunelvia a lesson by turning invisible and maybe taking her wallet or something. Then she might understand the potential danger of these objects.
My plan turned out to be for naught.
“Huh?” Cururunelvia looked at me, puzzled.
This was the same hat she had used just moments before, so when I put it on my head, I should have winked out of sight. Yet for some reason, she was still looking straight at me.
“What’s happening?” she asked, confused. She reached out—and touched the pointy hat on my head. She could see me.
“It looks like the sancta’s effect is gone.”
Why, though?
Cururunelvia peered at me, mystified.
“Your body is awfully greedy, Riviere.”
Only later did we understand what was going on. The device behind the statue of “Cururunelvia of Prayer” was modeled after the illness that was consuming my body. In other words, the statue and I were two of a kind. We both absorbed magic as a matter of course.
“I designed this country’s magic-absorption device to be even more powerful than your physiology, Riviere, but it looks like if you come into corporeal contact with a sancta, you can temporarily overwhelm that power.” Cururunelvia shrugged as if to say she gave up. In simple terms, if I physically touched a sancta, I would absorb the magical power within it.
Or, put another way…
“I could get rid of any sancta created by wrongheaded wishes!”
This just happened to be the solution to the problem we had been facing with the sancta. As long as I was around, the system could work smoothly.
“I’m glad I could start by granting your wish, Cururunelvia,” I said. I owed her so much; nothing made me happier than being able to be of help to her.
I felt a wave of relief—but Cururunelvia’s expression remained dark. “I think I would prefer if you didn’t touch the sancta, if possible,” she said.
“I guess I can see why you wouldn’t like me to vitiate the fruits of people’s prayers.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what is?”
“When you touch a sancta, you absorb that magical power, Riviere.”
I was quiet for a long moment. We had finally succeeded in halting my body’s automatic absorption of magical energy. She was saying that if I touched a sancta, it would restart. Here on this island, where that consumption of magical energy had been forcibly stopped, there was no telling what might ensue if I were to absorb a sancta’s magic.
“As long as you go around erasing people’s prayers, you might find you’re never able to die. Ever.”
So, she pleaded, she wished I wouldn’t do it.
“I guess I’ll have to reconsider,” I said.
Maybe Cururunelvia was right, and nobody would make a wayward wish. Then I would be able to age normally and live out a basically normal lifespan. All I could do was pray—pray that this might indeed be, and continue as, a country where people could smile together, regardless of status or race.
“I’ll keep looking,” Cururunelvia said. “Just to see if maybe there’s something else I can do. So you don’t have to keep struggling.”
If things remained peaceful, well, that would be ideal—but the more ways you had to maintain peace, the better, she said.
“You sure need a lot of looking after, don’t you, Riviere?” Cururunelvia said, and then she smiled at me—she was still smiling at me after all these years.
And all those years, she’d had the same habit of hiding the important things.
After the country’s founding, I was always at Cururunelvia’s side. She acted as a leader holding the reins of the nation, and I supported her as her aide.
I first noticed the abnormality after about a year, when people had really started to make serious use of the statue in the great cathedral.
One day, her student came into my office and asked, “Where is my mistress?” The young woman looked at me with brow furrowed. She must have thought it strange that I was sitting there working instead of Cururunelvia.