3. The Anomaly and the Criminal Shizuku cracked three eggs into something that resembled a bowl and whisked them together, then added some milk from a porcelain jug. She kept stirring the mixture, which turned pale yellow in color, and then gradually added a generous helping of sugar. Finally, she spread butter on the pieces of bread she’d torn up and arranged them on a stone plate. She drenched the bread in the egg mixture, and once it was thoroughly soaked through, she passed it to a man in the kitchen. “Put this in, please,” she said, and he put the plate in the oven. “Just wait a little while! It won’t take long.” “Sure.” Erik, who’d laid out his studying equipment in the inn’s dining hall, nodded to Shizuku from the other side of the counter. It was Shizuku’s own craving that had spurred her to make this snack in the first place, so he wasn’t sure whether he was looking forward to it. Shizuku went and sat down opposite him, then opened her book. The paperback in question wasn’t one she’d borrowed from the library but one of her own, full of lines and comments she’d added herself. Before going to college, Shizuku had been reluctant to write directly onto the pages of her books, but a professor she’d had during her first year advised Shizuku and her classmates to take plenty of notes. Apparently, this helped you make new discoveries every time you reread a book, and the notes also made it easier to look things up. Shizuku was a serious student, and she’d never been picky about keeping her books in perfect condition, so she soon put her professor’s advice into action. The paperback she was reading was the first in a series—of which she had yet to purchase any of the later installments—but she’d turned the pages so many times that the first half of them had already bent out of shape. Tiny notes had been scribbled in the corners, too. It looked completely different from when she’d first bought it. Shizuku started putting together a rough draft of a report, using her added notes as a guide. When she happened to glance across the table at Erik, she saw that he was copying out kanji characters. As she watched this fully grown adult repeatedly write out the kanji for “tuna,” his face drawn in concentration, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “N-no… But why ‘tuna’?” “It’s just interesting how it contains the radicals for ‘fish’ and ‘to exist.’” “But you don’t even know what a tuna is, do you?” “I’ve never seen one, nor eaten one.” This only made Erik’s choice even weirder. Why hadn’t he chosen a more practical kanji character to learn? Erik glanced over at Shizuku, whose whole body was shaking with laughter, then looked back down at the page. He wasn’t exactly annoyed by her reaction, but it still confused him. “What’s so funny?” he asked. “Tuna’s really good, you know,” Shizuku told him once she’d finally stifled her laughter. The man from the kitchen brought the baked plate over to the pair, and the three of them each took a portion of the snack Shizuku had thrown together. A sweet aroma drifted throughout the cafeteria, bringing back sweet memories as well. The bread dipped in the pale-yellow batter had been baked to a golden brown. Delighted, Shizuku cut off a piece of the bread and put it in her mouth. “I remember now. This is exactly how it’s supposed to taste.” “It’s sweet and delicious. What do you call this?” “It’s like French toast meets bread pudding.” “Huh?” “It seems like the sort of thing kids and young girls would love,” remarked the man who’d let them use the kitchen, not altogether displeased. “I’ll take some for my children.” He put some onto a small plate and left the cafeteria. Shizuku added a large dollop of some kind of citrus jam to the fluffy bread, then ate another slice. The flavor of her hot tea and the nostalgic sweetness of the French toast was deeply comforting. Two weeks had gone by since Erik and Shizuku had been caught up in the trouble in Laobbe. Having shaken off the pursuing nobles, the pair had proceeded down the highway toward Farsas’s castle city. They’d been staying in this current town for three days, and although it wasn’t as big as Laobbe, its transit rings were open to the public. At present, Erik and Shizuku were having their papers inspected so they could obtain permission to use one. “It’s really hot,” said Shizuku. “What’s with this weather? I can’t believe you’re wearing long sleeves, Erik.” “I guess it is. I don’t really feel it, though.” “At least it’s not humid, I guess—but this heat is really something.” Shizuku was wearing a short-sleeved blouse and a knee-length skirt. She really would have preferred to wear something even lighter, but people would look at her strangely if she took it too far. Erik, on the other hand, was wearing some sort of long-sleeved mage attire that covered his neck, yet he didn’t seem hot at all. Shizuku felt warm just looking at him. It almost felt like he was approaching this as some sort of ascetic training. The writing systems specialist must have gotten bored of the kanji for “tuna,” because he’d begun writing the character for “sweetfish” instead. Although what he’d written roughly resembled a kanji character, it gave off a rather geometric impression that seemed to show that Erik knew absolutely nothing about the basic stroke types that Japanese calligraphy consisted of. As Shizuku ate her second helping of French toast, she stared at his notebook. Its pages were starting to resemble the teacups they gave you at sushi restaurants in Japan, covered with the kanji for different fish. “Do you find this interesting?” she asked. “Yeah.” “Have you ever eaten sweetfish?” “I didn’t even know it existed.” Shizuku had to stop herself from laughing at Erik’s predictable response. Sweetfish was a river fish, but she wasn’t sure whether they existed in this world. She took a sip of her tea, which had quite a herbal flavor. “Sweetfish tastes good, too.” “You like fish, don’t you?” Erik asked. “You’re the one who’s been practicing nothing but fish kanji,” she quipped back. At that moment, the door to the cafeteria opened, and some men who looked like travelers filed in. Shizuku checked her watch—noon on the dot—and the men quickly began to occupy the surrounding tables, filling the small dining hall with noise. Shizuku looked around, wondering whether she should give them her seat. When she lifted her gaze, she met the eyes of a nearby man, who gave her a friendly smile and came to stop alongside her and Erik’s table. “Hello there, young lady. Are you an errand girl?” he asked her. “…I’m a traveler.” How old did she look to these people? Shizuku wondered whether she should just tell people she was soon to be sixteen to save herself the trouble of correcting them—but as she was thinking this over, the man glanced down at her table and let out a noise of interest. “What’s that?!” The man was pointing at Erik’s notebook filled with fish kanji. Feeling the urge to burst out laughing again, she clasped her hands against her mouth, while Erik responded calmly. “This? It’s a writing system from a country in the east.” “Whoa. That’s cool. Write something for me.” “She’s better at it than I am,” said Erik, gesturing toward Shizuku. “Huh?” said Shizuku. This sudden turn of events threw Shizuku into a fluster, and the man shifted his gaze toward her, eyes full of expectation. “You can write on this,” Erik told her, passing Shizuku a scrap of paper from his notebook. “Wh-what do you want me to write?” she asked the man. “I’m not sure. Oh, how about the word for ‘wind’? I like the wind.” “Okay…” For some reason, this situation reminded Shizuku of seeing foreigners in Japan wearing T-shirts with weird kanji characters on them. As nervous as she was, Shizuku carefully penned the kanji for “wind” on the piece of paper, then passed it to the man. When he saw it, his face lit up. “This is great! Thanks, young lady.” Shizuku couldn’t help but smile at his innocent reaction of joy. Having overheard the man, other guests began to crowd around. “What’s happening? What’ve you got there?” “Oh, you think you could write one for me, too?” “Wait, I’m first.” “Uhm…?” How had it come to this? Shizuku, who was surrounded by bizarrely enthusiastic guests, looked to Erik for help, but he was so engrossed in copying out the character for “trout” that he didn’t even glance in her direction. So for almost an hour, Shizuku wrote kanji after kanji for the travelers. She didn’t end up finishing until they’d all eaten their meals and left the cafeteria. She probably hadn’t paid that much attention to writing kanji since her kanji drill sessions in elementary school. Once Shizuku and Erik were finally alone in the dining hall again, she fell flat against the table and stretched out her right hand, stiff from all the nerves. “I-I’m exhausted…” “You did a great job,” Erik said. The table was piled high with copper coins and trinkets, gifts the men had given her in exchange for writing kanji for them. Shizuku picked up a small flower brooch and sighed. “I got so many cute gifts as payment… Maybe I should get another baito.” “That’s Japanese slang for a part-time job, right? Is there something you want?” “Not really, but I have to rely on you for everything, including our travel expenses. I’d like to pay you back for some of it at least.” As if dragging him along on this trip wasn’t bad enough, Shizuku had even managed to involve Erik in a series of strange predicaments, causing him no shortage of inconvenience. She might have looked like a child, but she wasn’t one, so she couldn’t help feeling guilty. However, Erik just frowned slightly upon hearing her intentions. “The knowledge you share with me serves as ample compensation for your travel expenses and other related costs. I don’t understand why you feel like it’s not.” “It’s just… I’m not even that knowledgeable. Plus, you’ve given me all kinds of things. And you could have been seriously injured the other week.” “That’s not your fault.” Erik shrugged slightly. Then a pensive expression crossed his face, and he suddenly asked about something else entirely. “What’s education like in your world?” “Are you talking about college, like what I was enrolled in? Or do you mean in a more general sense?” “Both.” Shizuku couldn’t help but wonder what he was curious about. “I’ll just tell you about my country,” she added before beginning her explanation. “Compulsory education ends at the age of fifteen. The government pays for the cost, and everyone studies a wide range of subjects. As a result, our literacy rate is close to a hundred percent—but that’s on the higher end, globally speaking.” “That’s amazing,” replied Erik. “Do they teach you practical things applicable in your daily lives?” “No. Well, some of it’s practical, but most of what we’re taught has no direct effect on our day-to-day lives. Other than literature, we learn about history and complex math. We get a general education and also learn the basics of each different specialized field… The teachers make us do all kinds of stuff so we have a solid foundation to our education. Everyone over the age of fifteen is gradually diverted into their respective field, so I think it helps to figure out what you’re good at and what interests you before you get to that stage. I did science in high school, but it wasn’t for me, so I didn’t pursue it further.” “How luxurious. After fifteen, do you have to pay for your education?” “Yes. It’s pretty costly. In college, all of your classes are specialized, so the price varies greatly depending on the school.” Moreover, Shizuku was a humanities student, studying liberal arts. Few of the skills gained from such a course could be immediately applicable in the workforce, so investing time and money into acquiring theoretical knowledge like this was indeed nothing but a luxury. In her head, she thanked her parents, so far away from her now, for letting her pursue such a path. “I see,” Erik said with a nod. Staring Shizuku full in the face, he went back to their original topic. “You know, I’m sure I’ve said this before, but your existence really is unique. We’ve never had a visitor like you before, with knowledge of an entirely different world. The fact that you’re imparting some of that to me is more than enough compensation for the expenses you’ve incurred. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” “But I’m only a student. The knowledge I possess is insignificant and trivial.” “To you, perhaps, but you’re the only person in this world who knows these things. That’s valuable in itself…and it helps me come to all sorts of realizations.” Suddenly, Erik’s deep-blue eyes clouded over in contemplation—but the next moment, he was back to his usual self. “If I’m not going to be able to convince you, then think of it this way. So far, the government and your parents have paid for you to receive a sufficient education. Now you’re selling that to help yourself, and I’m paying you for a part of that knowledge. It’s not that absurd, compared to the time and money your parents put into raising you.” Dumbfounded, Shizuku went quiet. Her parents must have easily spent millions of yen ensuring that she received a good education. She went to a private college as well, so all in all, it could end up costing them close to ten million yen. Shizuku had undervalued the lengths her parents had gone to provide for her, which was why she’d undervalued her own knowledge all this time. This perspective hadn’t even occurred to Shizuku until Erik had pointed it out, but his explanation had helped her come realize. In her old world, she’d been nothing but a novice. Yet here, in this new world, she was a rare intellectual. She hadn’t acquired this knowledge solely through her own efforts, so there was no need for her to feel weirdly inferior about it. Instead, she should be thankful that Erik valued what she knew. Shizuku let out a deep sigh, then bowed her head to Erik. “Thank you very much. I’ll do my best.” “Sure. By the way, let me know if there are any more fish kanji I haven’t learned yet.” “Isn’t it about time you gave up on fish kanji?” “Why? They’re interesting,” Erik replied, as if he were stating the obvious. Shizuku reluctantly wrote out the kanji for “whale” and “pilchard,” then showed them to him. “So that’s how you write ‘whale,’” he remarked. Shizuku laughed at the sight of Erik’s mild surprise. She cast her eyes downward with a wry smile, then composed herself. “But make sure you put yourself first, okay? Your life is important,” Shizuku told him. “I don’t know about that. Your life is important, too, so I’ll just see how I feel in the moment,” replied the enigmatic mage. With that, he continued copying out his kanji. The screening process for domestic teleportation wasn’t strict, even if you were heading to the castle city. Still, Shizuku was relieved to discover they’d passed the screening without any issues and had been granted permission to use the transit ring. She’d been concerned that a wanted person bulletin might have made its way over from Laobbe, or that her facial features would raise questions. Once Shizuku had finished packing, she decided to enjoy one last cup of tea in the inn’s dining hall while she was waiting for Erik. There was nobody else around, so she boiled the water and brewed the tea herself. Just as she was taking her cup over to the table, however, she heard some light footsteps. A small child had entered the cafeteria. The little boy, who appeared to be about two or three years old, stared up at her with his big eyes, and she smiled at him. “Oh? Where did you come from?” Shizuku asked the boy. “Are you alone?” “Alone?” he repeated. “Where’s your mommy?” “Mommy?” Shizuku burst out laughing. It was like talking to a parrot. Her baby cousin, who’d come over to her house to play the previous year, had been just the same, and the grown-ups had made a fuss over him the entire time. The little boy climbed up onto the chair next to Shizuku. He looked at Mea, sitting on the table in her bird form, and his eyes sparkled with curiosity. Shizuku grinned at him. “You can wait for your mommy here. If she takes too long to come, we can go and look for her together.” “Okay,” said the boy. “How about we do some drawing?” “Drawing!” The boy’s face lit up. Shizuku took a looseleaf notepad and her pencil case out of her bag, then started drawing pictures of animals like she had for the boys she’d met by the lake. “Look, what’s this?” “A horse!” “Right! What about this?” “A dog.” “It’s a cat. It has almond-shaped eyes, see?” As she was drawing her next few pictures, the child expressed a desire to join in, so she took a few colored pens out of her pencil case. Sitting there, drawing with the boy, Shizuku absentmindedly thought about what was to come. They would finally be arriving in Farsas’s castle city. Their journey up to this point had felt long, yet short at the same time, and she could hardly believe how many dangers they’d encountered. Still, reaching Farsas didn’t mean it was all over. They still needed to find a way for her to return to her own world, using several mysterious incidents from two hundred and forty years ago as clues. Farsas, the country that had erased any reports of witch sightings from witness testimonies, must have been concealing some kind of information, so extracting that information from the castle would most likely be their immediate objective. As Shizuku sat there, lost in thought, the child tugged on her sleeve. “Green! Green!” he was saying. “Green? Sure, here you go.” Shizuku offered him a green pen, but he just shook his head. Eventually, the boy leaned across the table and took a yellow pen. “Oh, you wanted that one? That’s yellow,” said Shizuku, taking off the pen lid. As she was doing this, she glanced at her bag. If it was feasible, she wanted to create a dictionary that compared words from her world’s language to their equivalents here. She wanted to leave behind as many things as possible that would be useful for Erik. “I can always buy new English-Japanese and German-Japanese dictionaries… Textbooks, too.” She planned on leaving him everything he needed. As long as she could return the necessary books to the library, it wouldn’t be a problem. The most important thing was that she repaid him for all he’d done for her. He held her knowledge in high regard, but the fact remained that the languages she was teaching him would be useless in this world. Even so, Erik saw value in learning them, and it was for that reason that he’d spent all this time supporting and guiding her on her journey. Feeling a pang of sadness, Shizuku went to pet Mea—but at that very moment, a woman appeared in the entrance of the dining hall with an anxious expression across her face. The little boy quickly looked up. “Mommy!” “There you are! I’ve been worried sick!” The child’s mother ran over and held him tight. Shizuku bowed her head slightly. “Sorry. I told him to wait here…” “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” the woman reassured her. “Um, I’m sorry if he’s caused you any trouble. I really am…” Having seen the drawings on the table, the woman apologized profusely, sounding extremely flustered. Then, without even making eye contact with Shizuku, she left the cafeteria. Shizuku cleared her things off the table and thought about the woman’s brusque attitude, wondering whether she’d viewed Shizuku as a kidnapper. In the middle of packing up, Erik arrived with a pile of documents in hand. As soon as Shizuku stepped inside the building where the transit rings were installed, she was immediately reminded of a school gym. The large hall was empty, and its wooden flooring was polished to perfection, with no walls to partition the space off. Instead, desks were arranged throughout the hall. The sight reminded Shizuku of the physical examinations and fitness tests she’d done at school. Glancing at the transit rings she’d spotted in the distance, she whispered to Erik. “This is very different from Candela Castle.” “It takes a lot of effort to burn transit rings into stone,” Erik explained. “It’s much easier to use wood, though it doesn’t last as long.” “Oh, I get it,” replied Shizuku. “So it’s like when people use a brand to mark kamaboko?” “Kamaboko?” “It’s a type of processed fish.” The pair lined up in front of the desk with the longest queue. It was going down quicker than the lines they used to have at school doing their physical examinations, and it took less than a minute for Shizuku and Erik’s turn to come around. Once Erik had submitted his papers to the clerk, they were allowed through. “Come on,” said Erik, turning around and reaching out his hand. This sight made Shizuku realize for the first time that she was nervous. She silently nodded, then grabbed hold of his hand. What could the future possibly hold for them? Shizuku was constantly plagued by these sorts of worries, but this was just one of many trips she’d have to make. She smiled briefly and took a step forward, confident that all that awaited her was her future self, molded from her own free will. The pair emerged from the transit ring administration office, located in the southwest of the castle city. As Shizuku left the stone building, she looked up at the sky—and immediately let out an exclamation of disappointment. “There aren’t any dragons!” “There’s no town on this entire continent that just has dragons hanging around in the sky. Although now you mention it…” Erik seemed to recall something, and he was on the verge of speaking when a cat in a nearby window caught sight of Mea and lunged toward her. Sensing that cat’s target, Shizuku swiftly held her demon assistant to her chest. The buildings in Farsas’s castle city were more ordinary than Shizuku had imagined, but it was still a beautiful, thriving place. “This is like Prague! I feel like I’m vacationing abroad!” “Well, technically, you are abroad,” commented Erik. The buildings that lined the streets were not noticeably different from those in Candela or Laobbe. However, every so often, Shizuku caught sight of something that impressed upon her how long the city had been around. After all, Farsas boasted over a thousand years of history. She noticed scorch marks on some of the gray stone walls and the old windows fitted with stained glass. Next to it, a curtain of thin water cascaded from the eaves of a building, the splattering water flowing into a canal at the side of the road. It was so clear that Shizuku could see fish swimming inside it. Engraved on the bottom of the canal were magical-looking markings. A cat pounced at her, and Shizuku caught it reflexively. “The cats in Farsas are very aggressive… Is that because it’s the magic kingdom?” “I don’t think magic has anything to do with the quirks of cats. If it’s magic you want to see, then take a look at that,” Erik said, pointing to the wall of a white building just ahead of them. About three floors up, Shizuku could see a large disk divided into six colors. The part painted red was currently at the top. “What’s that? A spinning wheel to decide your role at lunch duty?” “I don’t know what that is, but no. That disk shows tomorrow’s weather forecast. It’s automated using spiritual magic.” “A weather forecast disk…” Now that she knew its true purpose, Shizuku could see that there were different patterns—presumably depicting different weather phenomena—etched into the colored segments. Around her, Shizuku could see a wide array of other mysterious sights, from perpetually burning blue flames in storefronts to crystal windows that reflected scenes from distant locations. Even the magic circles that she came across every now and then had beautiful designs, leaving Shizuku captivated wherever she looked. As soon as Shizuku put the stripy cat down, it ran into an alleyway, the gold chain on its tail swaying from side to side. “Th-this place is fascinating…,” Shizuku said, her voice filled with wonder. “I’d love to take a look around.” “It’s almost twice as big as Candela’s castle city, so I don’t really recommend it. Also, I’m sure you’ll be fine, but watch out you don’t get lost.” “If I do get lost, is there a lost child center?” “I don’t know what that means, but I doubt they exist here.” The pair escaped the bustling street and arrived in front of an inn. As soon as Erik placed his hand on the door, it opened inward, and a young man appeared from inside. “Oh, you actually showed up. Long time no see!” said the man. “Yeah. I’m glad to see you’re well.” “I should be saying that to you. I was worried about you. Ah…” The man who answered the door had a cheerful smile on his face, and he’d finally noticed Shizuku’s presence. He hurriedly bowed his head. “N-nice to meet you,” said Shizuku. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Erik’s told me all about you, Shizuku. My name’s Harve, and for all intents and purposes, I’m one of Farsas’s royal mages. This is my family home. Please, come in.” He gestured inside, and Erik strode straight through the door, closely followed by Shizuku. It was gloomy inside the inn, which Shizuku assumed to be because it was before opening hours, yet the wooden floorboards had been swept clean. Judging by the tables and chairs scattered around, the space appeared to serve as both an entrance hall and a dining room. Harve pointed to the staircase at the back of the room, which led up to the second floor. “You’re welcome to use two rooms in the back. Here are the keys.” “Thanks,” replied Erik. “Shizuku, I have something to discuss with Harve, so feel free to rest up until dinnertime.” “Oh, okay. Excuse me, then. Do you want me to take your luggage, Erik?” “I’ll be fine. It’s not like I have that much stuff.” Shizuku took a key from Harve and went up to the second floor. She checked the picture on the little card attached to the key, comparing it against the ones hanging on the doors, and opened the door with the same design on it. She put down her luggage, then threw herself onto the bed. Mea, who was lying on her chest, slowly poked her head out. “Don’t worry, Mea. There are no cats around anymore. We can rest.” Mea gave Shizuku a small nod, then flew over to the windowsill. As Shizuku watched her assistant demon gaze outside, Shizuku stretched out her body, stiff with nerves. A long sigh escaped her lips. “We’re finally here…” It had been such a long journey already… Just how much more did they have to go before she could get home? Shizuku got up and looked out across the city from behind Mea. The huge, beautiful chalk castle loomed in the distance, a dignified presence beneath the expansive blue sky. “Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry for asking so much of you at such short notice.” “Are you talking about that portrait? What was that all about? I did get wind of an incident in Laobbe.” “My involvement in that is nothing of concern, so don’t worry.” Erik forced a smile, put down his luggage, and took a seat. Harve brought a bottle of alcohol over from the kitchen, then the young mage sat down opposite Erik. “We haven’t seen each other in so long. What’s it been—four years?” “I guess so. It doesn’t feel like it, though.” Harve offered his old friend a mug, and Erik wordlessly accepted it. As the pair sipped their drinks, a slightly different kind of silence drifted through the air. “…I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I didn’t think you’d ever return to Farsas,” said Harve. “I’ll come back whenever I get the opportunity. I just hadn’t had the chance until now,” replied Erik. “You’re here because of that girl, huh? She seems like a nice kid. Good-natured.” “And pretty stubborn, too.” There was no change in Erik’s expression, but his old friend seemed to read something into it nonetheless. He smiled a little, then directed his dark-green eyes toward the door, narrowing them slightly. “Seeing you with a girl like that… It kind of reminds me of Lady Katiliana.” “This is completely different.” “…I guess so.” Few words were being spoken, but this evasiveness itself proved how hard it was for the pair to express their true emotions. While the past was the past, the lingering bitterness that had been left behind had refused to fade over the years, and the alcohol Erik was sipping slowly tasted equally bitter. Harve let out a small sigh, then shook his head to clear it. “Also, about that other thing you asked me for, I didn’t get anywhere with it. There were no documents related to the incident in any of the locations I’m allowed to inspect. And that first edition they retrieved was nowhere to be seen.” “Oh. I couldn’t remember seeing it, either, so I thought that might be the case.” “It wasn’t with those papers you had on forbidden curses? You were allowed to view Class 1 documents, right?” “I don’t think it was there. Maybe it’s sealed information, with an even higher classification.” “In that case, you’d need the royal family’s permission to view it.” Erik could feel the weight of those words echo deep inside him. He already knew the protocol, but this statement still brought back all kinds of memories. Realizing that his friend had gone quiet, Harve shrugged. “Leuticia spends a lot of time away lately. There was this forbidden curse incident at Candela Castle, you see. She’s been quarreling with the king of Rozsark ever since.” “I know,” said Erik. “You do? You really do have your ears to the ground, huh? Well, anyway, His Majesty is the person to ask. I could ask him for you…but it would look sketchy, don’t you think? Not only is this outside my field of specialty, but it’s also likely that this is highly confidential information. Don’t you think you’d have a better chance if you took that girl along with you and explained the situation to him directly?” Even though Erik had half expected Harve to respond like this, he found himself frowning, and he placed his unfinished mug of liquor down on the table. The distinct sound of ceramic clattering against the table echoed around the room. “Being with me will only make things worse for her.” But Harve seemed undeterred and just calmly topped up Erik’s drink. “I really don’t think that’s true,” he said. “His Majesty doesn’t know what you look like, and even if he does remember you, he’s not going to do anything at this point. That’s the kind of person he is. Besides, don’t you need to keep that girl company? She doesn’t have any relatives, does she?” Although Erik had told Harve about Shizuku in a letter, the other mage didn’t know where she came from—Erik had just told him that she was from a faraway country, that some strange form of teleportation had sent her here, and that she was investigating a past incident to help her get home. The image of Shizuku’s straightforward gaze momentarily flickered through the back of Erik’s mind. They were the eyes of someone who trusted him and would do anything she could to get what she wanted, filled with an honest determination. What kind of face would she make if she found out the truth? Would she still look at him the same way? Erik couldn’t come up with an answer—likely because he already knew how she would react. Harve picked up the bottle of alcohol and rose to his feet. “Well, take your time thinking it over. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” “Yeah. Thanks,” Erik replied. That part of their exchange made the pair feel like time had changed nothing—although in reality, that was far from the truth. “I’m glad you’re back,” Harve told Erik, giving him a bittersweet smile. The founding of the nation of Farsas dated back to the Dark Age, an era that had since become ancient history. It had been a chaotic time, marked by warfare and betrayal, when the state of the world changed and national borders were rewritten on a daily basis. It was in this bleak age of despair that the now-powerful nation emerged. During this period, countless small nations were ruthlessly ravaged and obliterated. However, in the midst of this turmoil, one solitary man appeared. He brought together those who had nowhere left to go and used his wisdom to confront external threats. Slowly, he used his talents to establish a formidable army, then a nation. Strangely, there was no mention of this founding king’s name in Farsas’s records. The only tales that circulated about him were those of the beautiful queen who was always by his side, and that of Akashia, the Magic-Severing Sword, which had been bestowed upon him by a mysterious nonhuman entity. Only one such sword existed in the world—a sword that could neutralize magic. An explanation for this ability was yet to be discovered, but throughout the years, it had been passed down as a symbol of the royal line of Farsas, all the way to its current wielder, the 30th king, Lars Zan Graviol Las Farsas. “Twenty-seven! What a young king! Are all kings in this world that young?” “No, Farsas is just unique in that respect.” Three days after they’d arrived in the castle city, Erik announced that they were going to ask the king for his help directly. Shizuku was understandably nervous. She’d never expected that she would one day get to meet a royal in person. Harve had been the one to get them the appointment, and Shizuku was already worried about making a mistake that angered the king. “It’s an unspoken rule that the king of Farsas should wield the royal sword, but it’s not just for show—Akashia is one of the most powerful weapons in existence, capable of countering any mage’s attack. Naturally, its owner needs to be competent enough to use it.” “Oh, so that’s why it’s inherited by a young person.” “Yes. Over the past few centuries, kings have generally ensured that their successor will inherit Akashia before they reach the age of fifty.” “That makes sense. It’s essential that the king of Farsas is a good enough swordsman to wield the royal sword, then.” This was unexpected, considering they were the ruler of the magic kingdom—but magic had only really played a prominent role in Farsas in the last two to three hundred years. When Shizuku heard that Akashia had existed since the nation was founded, it made more sense. “Still, what could that sword possibly be made out of? It’s been around for over a thousand years.” “Who knows? I’ve heard that other countries are trying to solve that mystery, though.” Shizuku knew very little about magic, so she was clueless about these sorts of things, but apparently Farsas’s national heirloom was the only item in existence that was completely immune to magic. Many people believed that if the reason behind the sword’s capabilities could be uncovered, it would help advance the research of magical technology. However, the royal family of Farsas forbade not only foreign parties, but also their own nation’s mages, from conducting the relevant research. “Well, I guess it is a national heirloom,” Shizuku commented before shifting her focus to the personality of the king. “What’s he like? I remember you saying he was open-minded.” “He is, as far as politics is concerned. I’ve never met him in person, though.” “I’m worried about offending him. He doesn’t have the right to kill anyone who offends him like an ancient samurai, does he?” “What are you talking about? That sounds so dark.” “You’re right about that.” Erik refilled his cup from the teapot, then shifted his deep-blue eyes away from Shizuku to the white castle in the distance beyond the window. “The current king is open-minded, but that’s what happens when you’re confident in the power you possess. If we’re talking about his individual character, I’d say the king’s…a tough nut to crack.” Shizuku gulped, nervous. Unable to imagine what the king would be like, she remained apprehensive. Still, she’d put herself through so much hardship for the sole reason of getting hold of Farsas’s secrets, to see whether they could help her find her way home. She couldn’t afford to stand around scared. Shizuku had Harve’s mother take a look at her outfit and ensure that she wasn’t underdressed for a royal audience. Despite the scorching heat, she was advised not to show too much of her arms and legs, so Harve’s mother picked her out a long-sleeved shirt and a flared, ankle-length skirt. After that, she sorted through her bag. She wanted to make sure she had sufficient evidence that she was from another world if she was asked to prove it, and she powered on her phone, which had been off for a long time. In her old world, she’d always made sure that it had enough battery, and somehow it still had charge left over. Shizuku idly tapped the screen, then took a look through her call history, where she found row after row of her friends’ names. At the bottom of the list, she saw her sister’s. That evening, Shizuku shed a few tears. The day of the royal meeting came around in a blink of an eye. As Shizuku stood next to Erik in front of the giant castle gates, she let out a sigh of admiration. The castle was simply magnificent. It reminded her of European castles she’d only ever seen in photos, and the sheer number of windows gave a good indication of how big it truly was. Shizuku gazed up at the spires that stood just inside the castle walls. There were four of them, one at each corner. “This place is amazing…” “Don’t crane your neck too much,” Erik told her. “It’ll snap off.” “What?!” “Come on, let’s go.” Erik gave his papers to the soldier standing at the gate, who gave the pair a once-over and nodded. The side entrance next to the castle gate opened, letting them inside. “Don’t wander off,” Erik warned Shizuku before striding off while she took in her surroundings. It was almost as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. Once they’d gone inside and were walking down a long hallway, he turned to Shizuku. “Promise me something before we meet the king.” “Sure,” Shizuku replied. “What is it?” “I don’t want to cause you any problems, so if you get reprimanded because of something I’ve done, I want you save yourself. Let me take the fall.” “Huh?” Shizuku could hardly comprehend what she was hearing. She stared at him, unblinking, her large eyes wide with astonishment—but Erik didn’t look like he was joking. “Wh-what are you talking about? Is something going to happen?” “There’s a good chance that it won’t.” “But there’s still a chance that something will happen. In which case…” Shizuku wanted to suggest that she go alone, or that they give up on visiting the king altogether. She’d always had an equal, transactional kind of relationship with Erik, yet the fact that he had to compensate for her cluelessness in so many situations made her feel guilty. Putting Erik in some kind of danger just so she could return to her old world was out of the question. She had no intention of sacrificing someone else in order to get back to where she’d come from. If that was what it took, she could just abandon the idea of returning. It would be a painful choice to make, but she’d already established her priorities. However, before she could say something to Erik, he stopped walking. “Here we are.” They’d arrived in front of a large door with soldiers guarding it on either side. The door slowly opened inward, and Shizuku caught sight of a red carpet lying on top of the white marble floor. She looked up at Erik, but he was gazing straight ahead, his expression the same as it always was. “There’s no need for you to worry. I—” But she couldn’t make out the end of his sentence, as it was cut off by the sonorous voice of a man from inside the room. “You may enter.” For reasons she couldn’t comprehend, Shizuku was nearly trembling with excitement and nerves, and she stepped onto the red rug. Neither weapons, nor anything else that signaled hostility, could be brought into the presence of the king. In accordance with this rule, Shizuku had left Mea at the inn, and her bag was searched by the soldiers. Once this check was complete, the pair went and stood before the king. The twenty-seven-year-old King Lars was a man with clean-cut features, which made him look even younger than he actually was. His hair was dark brown, and his eyes a light blue. He wore a gentle smile on his face, but with his muscular physique, he exuded a shrewd and authoritative aura that was impossible to hide. He was undeniably regal, and the mysterious glint in his eyes gave him the air of a cunning old man, despite his youth. As they presented themselves to the king sitting on his throne, Shizuku stayed half a pace behind Erik. She didn’t really know how to act in front of a king, but she bowed deeply to him and introduced herself. “My name is Shizuku, Your Majesty.” Lars looked her up and down, a skeptical cast to his face. “Shizuku?” he repeated. “Yes. Um, forgive me if I offend you in any way. I am unaware of how to act around a king.” “That doesn’t bother me. Tell me, why do you wish to know about events that happened two hundred and forty years ago?” His commanding voice carried a palpable sense of authority, and Shizuku found herself holding her breath, feeling like she’d been stabbed in the heart. Where was she supposed to start? How could she make him believe her? She had practiced this part so many times in bed the night before, but now that she was actually in front of the king, the words eluded her. Shizuku kept opening and closing her mouth as if she were gasping for air. “What’s the problem? Hurry up and spit it out. I don’t have all day, you know.” She had to answer him. Her logical brain was begging her to. But what could she possibly say? Feeling dizzy, she was unsure about everything. “Shizuku.” At that moment, a voice as clear as water echoed in her ears, and that familiar sound grounded her. His determination to support her. His very presence. She’d made it this far because he was always by her side. Shizuku’s jumbled thoughts started to make sense again. Her mind was beginning to calm down. She looked down at her own hands, then looked back up at the king. Her lips still stiff, she began to speak. “Your Majesty. You might not believe me…but I came to this world from a very faraway place.” Shizuku began to tell her story, starting with how she’d stumbled across the black hole on that hot summer’s day. Although she found herself lost every now and then during her narrative, Shizuku kept reminding herself to stay calm, and eventually she managed to explain the whole situation. Erik elaborated on why they wanted to know about the incidents all those years ago, and Lars listened to him speak, keeping his gaze fixed on Shizuku the whole time. Once the pair had finished talking, the king shot Shizuku a question, not appearing particularly surprised. “Can you prove that you’re really from another world?” “Sort of. I brought something with me from my old world.” Shizuku took her smartphone out of her bag and showed the king how she used it. Lars narrowed his eyes as he watched her demonstration, and when she took a photo with it, he was understandably a little surprised. “How far into the distance can it capture?” the king asked. “With a small device like this, the pictures will get blurrier the farther away the subject is—but in my old world, you can photograph things that are invisible to the naked eye as if they were right in front of you.” “Interesting. Do you have any other technology in your world that we don’t have here?” It was a normal question, but it put Shizuku on guard. She remembered the warning Erik had given her: “Some people might try and extract knowledge from you in order to create powerful weapons.” Still, if she didn’t say anything, the king might not believe her story, so she chose to answer his question carefully. “Magic doesn’t exist in my world, but civilization has progressed in other ways to make up for it. So…there are many other examples of advanced technology, besides the one you’ve just seen. Unfortunately, though, I’m not able to re-create them for you. I haven’t been trained in those kinds of technologies…” Lars nodded without saying a word. Shizuku wondered what was going through the king’s head. He was impossible to read, and she felt herself becoming intimidated, but she used her willpower to control her nerves. The king’s eyes had been fixed on Shizuku for some time now, and it didn’t seem like he would look away. The strength of his gaze made Shizuku feel uncomfortable, as if she would break out in a cold sweat all over her body. “So you’re telling me you can do things that we’re not capable of in this world?” “Something like that, I think.” “I see. Well, that’s a rather major problem.” She didn’t know what he meant by this. Lars sounded a little troubled, but Shizuku couldn’t sense any further emotion in his voice, and she stared back into his blue eyes. “I’d heard the story passed down by word of mouth, but I never expected you to appear during my reign. I wasn’t even sure it was true.” “…Your Majesty?” “Why did you come to Farsas? …Why did you come to see me? Did you come to find out whether that really was broken?” Shizuku couldn’t answer his question. She didn’t even comprehend what she was being asked, and an indescribable sense of unease began to rise up from the depths of her soul. The king rose to his feet. Shizuku looked up at him, his figure well proportioned and tall, but for some reason, the sight triggered a sense of déjà vu. “It makes things harder now that you’ve appeared in the form of a young girl—but my duty remains the same.” The king placed his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. Is that Akashia, the royal sword? Shizuku wondered. His eyes still fixed on hers, Lars unsheathed his longsword and gracefully held it in an attacking stance. Shizuku gazed up at the weapon in silence. “Begone, interloper.” The sword’s mirrorlike blade shimmered beautifully, and Shizuku watched in a daze as he pointed the sword toward her and swung it down. The blade descended upon Shizuku. She waited there, perfectly still, convinced that there must be some hidden meaning to what he was doing. Either that, or the abruptness of the situation had left her paralyzed with fear. In reality, though, he’d swung his sword without hesitation, fully intending to take Shizuku’s life. Shizuku only realized this when Erik pulled her away, and the edge of the sword grazed her skirt. Erik yanked her backward, and she staggered a few steps farther away from the king.
Chapter 22
41 min read