Chapter 53

6. The Final Words “Nice to meet you. My name is Shizuku Minase… Who are you?” She felt like she’d had a weird dream. That was the first thought that went through her mind when she opened her eyes. She raised her sluggish arm and held it out toward the ceiling. Her hands were small, and her nails were cut short. It was the same hand she’d known for the past nineteen years, but she looked up at it, blinking repeatedly. Then she sat herself up, pushing her elbows against the bed. The large room she found herself in looked familiar. She’d woken up there before, though only once. Actually, when was that? She wracked her brains for that seemingly distant memory, then shook her head. The ceiling was bright green, and the furniture inside the spacious room was all high quality. She stretched her neck, trying to look out the window. At that moment, the bedroom door opened. The woman who opened the door and poked her head inside was someone she knew well. Shizuku cocked her head to the side and called out her name. “Yura?” “Nea, Vivia!” Yura was so surprised to see Shizuku awake that she dropped the iron water jug in her hands. Despite her shock, she ran over and hugged Shizuku around the neck. She could hear Yura sobbing in her ear. She was whispering, too, although her speech was broken up. Her words express just how deeply worried she’d been, but when Shizuku heard them, she let out a voiceless sigh. She’d known what was coming, but now that it had happened, the sadness of it came over her like a wave. She couldn’t understand what people were saying anymore. Shizuku silently started to cry. Yura rose to her feet and shot her a puzzled look. She kept speaking to Shizuku, but as soon as she realized her friend wasn’t going to calm down, she used gestures to tell her to wait. Yura immediately picked up the jug of water and rushed out of the room. Shortly after, there was a knock on the door, and another person appeared. It was a man with deep-blue eyes, dressed in mage’s attire. This man, who’d spent the most time with Shizuku in this world, had a soft but sorrowful look in his eyes. “…Erik.” “Vivia,” Erik replied. The word didn’t ring a bell. Shizuku scrunched up her face, and Erik cocked his head in confusion. He thought to himself for a moment, trying to retrieve a memory, then walked over next to her. “Shizuku.” That was all he said, but it made Shizuku’s eyes widen in surprise. She muttered a response, not bothering to wipe the tears away that were pouring down her face. “…You…remembered. You remembered my name…” She didn’t say anything else. There was nothing more she could say. Erik sat down beside her, a serious look on his face. He combed his fingers through Shizuku’s messy bangs. They might not be able to communicate or understand what the other was saying, but his warmth remained the same. It hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t lost their connection. It had been there waiting for her. A wave of relief washed over her, and everything she’d been holding back came pouring out. Shizuku let out her stifled voice and cried as she clung to Erik. “I-I’m so sorry…” She buried her face in his chest like a child, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Erik smiled slightly, then quietly stroked her head. “What does Vivia mean?” As soon as Shizuku was given a pen and paper, she’d used a mixture of English and his world’s common language to ask Erik this question. She made this her first question not only because it was a simple question to phrase, but also because everyone who had come to visit her had been using that word. Erik’s answer was somewhat expected. He wrote down the kanji character for “Shizuku.” “Vivia” must have meant “Shizuku” in this world’s language. When they first met, Shizuku had introduced herself as “Shizuku Minase.” Erik had remarked that this was an unusual name, so she’d taken another approach, explaining that her name meant “water droplet.” On reflection, he must have been calling her “Vivia” ever since, and it had just sounded like “Shizuku” to her ears. That said, Erik hadn’t forgotten the name she’d introduced herself with. Hearing him call her “Shizuku” was strange and unfamiliar, and the sound of it made her feel shy. The next thing she wanted to know was how she’d managed to survive. She couldn’t understand the language people were speaking anymore, which suggested that the cursed artifact was gone. In fact, she couldn’t sense its presence within her, even when she focused her undivided attention on it. She puzzled over how to ask this question, trying her hardest to piece together an English sentence, and when Erik noticed her distress, he gave her a piece of notepaper. On it was a short sentence, written in English. When Shizuku grasped what it meant, her eyes widened. She automatically looked up and met Erik’s gaze. It was a phrase that signaled the end of her long journey. “You can go back to your own world.” It took a long time for Shizuku to gather the whole story from Erik’s written explanations. It was already a complex sequence of events, and it took a long time to decode words when one of them was struggling to understand. Eventually, though, Shizuku grasped that the artifact had reached its limit before she could die. She’d nearly been killed on impact when she’d slammed against the ground, and although the cursed artifact had tried to regenerate her body, her injuries were too severe. Weakened by Akashia’s blade, it had exhausted its power halfway through the process. Shizuku was at death’s door, but someone had managed to heal her just in time: Lyshien. “I knew that voice sounded like Lyshien…” Immediately before she lost consciousness, Shizuku had heard someone say, “I believe in your freedom.” That person had turned out to be Lyshien. Shizuku had believed in Lyshien’s freedom when their paths had crossed earlier in her travels, and Lyshien returned to help Shizuku in her time of need. It was an incredible stroke of luck. Erik nodded and expanded on his explanation. “The truth is, Lyshien and Oscar possess an artifact capable of countering the interlopers’ cursed artifact.” This was the “cursed artifact created by this world to counter that of the interlopers” that Lars had mentioned before. Lyshien and her protector, Oscar, were currently able to wield its power and had arrived at the scene of the battle after receiving a message from Oltovine. From there, they’d rushed over to Shizuku, who’d fallen from the tower. Come to think of it, Lyshien’s huge vast magical power did meet the conditions to wield the opposing cursed artifact. Maybe Shizuku should have looked into that sooner. “Had you already realized that about Lyshien and Oscar, Erik?” Erik had previously asked Niké and Shizuku if they knew how to get in touch with Lyshien, but it turned out she’d only given her contact details to Oltovine, the king of Rozsark, who’d annexed her homeland, Anneli. If they’d been able to reach her earlier, things might have ended differently. Erik shook his head in response to Shizuku’s question. “I wasn’t entirely convinced, but there was a portrait of two people who looked a lot like them sandwiched between the pages of that book. I contemplated what it could mean, but eventually concluded it might be a warning, telling people to watch out for the two people capable of destroying the book.” The pair, often referred to as “The Deviators,” were believed to possess power on an otherworldly scale in the form of this world’s cursed artifact. With enough study and experimentation, they should be able to create a “hole” leading to Shizuku’s old world, like the one the cursed artifact’s core had created. “Still, Lyshien is unreliable in terms of technique, and she’s the person that really matters. I think the princess and I should analyze the data the Deviators have accumulated so far and construct a spell that will open up a hole that Lyshien can then use.” “That…sounds like a ton of effort. I’m sorry.” Shizuku had said this in Japanese, but Erik seemed to get the gist. He patted her shoulder as if to say, “Don’t worry about it.” As he was rising to his feet, the door opened, and two new people stepped inside. It was Lyshien and her protector Oscar, the very people they’d just been talking about. Lyshien’s face lit up as soon as she saw Shizuku, and she ran over to hug her. Although Shizuku couldn’t understand what Lyshien was saying, her joy was obvious. Shizuku wasn’t sure what to say…so she simply thanked her in Japanese. When she looked over at Oscar, he bowed his head and spoke. Shizuku couldn’t understand what he was saying, either, but she immediately knew what he meant. Shizuku had come to this world because Oscar had defeated the immortal toad in the desert. The cursed artifact inside of her had remembered that. That’s why she’d felt unwell and fainted when she first met Oscar. She’d wanted nothing more than to flee from him as quickly as possible. Shizuku smiled at the apologetic man in front of her. “Please, don’t apologize. I’ve…been through a lot since arriving in this world, but I don’t regret it. In fact, I’m glad I came.” If she hadn’t encountered the portal that fateful day, she never would have met the people of this world. The path she’d walked was by no means an easy one. She’d suffered pain and hardship. And yet, she was happy with where she’d ended up. Shizuku had learned a lot over the course of her travels. She’d met people, discovered how complex they were, and uncovered her own identity. She felt no regret whatsoever. “Actually, I want to thank you for saving me. Really… Thank you.” She bowed deeply, then penned a thank-you note on a piece of paper. The simple sentence, written in the continent’s common language, didn’t contain everything she wanted to say, but it seemed to get across her appreciation. Once again, Lyshien wrapped her arms tightly around Shizuku’s neck, and Oscar pried her off with an awkward smile. Once Oscar had left, carrying Lyshien under his arm, Erik wrote Shizuku a note saying, “Get some rest,” and made his way out. As soon as he’d gone, Mea came in and took his place. Shizuku didn’t have an appetite, but her assistant demon arranged some sliced fruit on a plate for her nonetheless. As Shizuku was picking up a piece, the words “thank you” slipped out of her mouth. Mea’s confused reaction made Shizuku’s heart ache. People couldn’t even understand the simplest of her statements anymore. The realization dampened her spirits. Nevertheless, Shizuku smiled warmly at Mea, hoping to convey her feelings to the girl, who wasn’t very good at reading or writing. Picking up a piece of deugo, she let out a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to learn how you pronounce things,” she said to herself. Shizuku hadn’t needed to understand how the common language was pronounced because the cursed artifact had always translated it for her automatically. She muttered this comment without thinking—but then, she remembered something that made her fall silent. There was a chance she could return to her old world soon. If she did, she’d never use this world’s language again. Even if it took a little effort, she could already communicate through simple written messages, so she didn’t need to go out of her way to learn the pronunciation. “I’ll get to go home…” It didn’t feel real yet. Shizuku gazed intently down at her hands. That night, she took out her cell phone for the first time in a long while and reread every single message saved on it. Shizuku didn’t really understand magical spell configurations. As a result, she ended up killing time in her room while Erik and Leuticia were busy studying the “hole.” She tried reading books since she had nothing better to do, but nothing would register. It felt like her thoughts were racing, leaving an indelible mark on her mind. Just as she was beginning to toy with the idea of taking a walk to clear her head, she heard a small knock—Lyshien. The young girl showed Shizuku the bundle of cards and the notebook she was holding, then spread them out on the desk. Shizuku was shocked to see the flashcards she’d made after such a long time. “Oh, those…” Lyshien was holding a writing practice book designed for children, and she eagerly tried to say something to a wide-eyed Shizuku. It was a challenge to communicate with Lyshien, since she wasn’t very good at writing, but it seemed she wanted to study with Shizuku. After spending so long in confinement, she still had trouble with reading and writing herself. “Oh, right! This might work perfectly!” Shizuku didn’t know how words were pronounced, and Lyshien was terrible at writing. They had completely different skills, but once they’d spread some flashcards and picture books out on the table, they started comparing what they knew. Lyshien watched intently as Shizuku drew pictures, calling out the names of what was depicted. Shizuku wrote down characters from the common language, recording their pronunciations along the way, while Lyshien transcribed what she’d written. They kept studying, mixing in games as they swapped knowledge with one another. This continued until the evening, when Oscar came to take Lyshien away. When they showed him the notebook that contained the fruits of their learning, he smiled. “I hope you’ll hang out with her again,” he wrote down, then showed it to Shizuku. Oscar was helping Erik and Leuticia, so he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Lyshien while they were working on the unknown spell. Given that he was spending his time researching a way to send her home, Shizuku immediately agreed to take care of Lyshien. Beginning the next day, they began spending half the day together. “We could hold back a little, you know.” The princess’s exasperated remark made Erik raise an eyebrow. He looked at the crystal ball set in the center of the round table. The magic implement Erik had used to borrow Leuticia’s magical power had been destroyed in the castle, meaning his body had returned to its original state with little magical power to utilize. Not only did this make it impossible for him to construct and demonstrate spell configurations, but the diagrams he drew were also devastatingly hard to comprehend. For those reasons, he was using a crystal ball containing magical power to experiment with different spells. As he was dismantling the spell he’d assembled using the Deviators’ notes, Erik took a sip of his tea and responded to Leuticia in an uncharacteristically sharp tone. “Why would we do that? I don’t understand.” “If we complete the spell, Vivia will end up going home. Are you okay with that?” “If the spell’s not up to scratch, she could fall between the two worlds. What would we do then?” “…Good point.” “So don’t hold back anything.” This pair were the best spellcrafters in Farsas, the nation at the forefront of spell technology. After that exchange, they immersed themselves in trying out different spells once again. About thirty minutes later, however, Leuticia looked back up. “Aren’t you going to stop her from leaving?” Erik didn’t answer right away. The better part of a minute went by. Once the steam had stopped rising from his tea, Erik began to speak in a flat tone of voice. “She wouldn’t be happy, staying in a world where she can’t even understand the language.” It was hard to tell to what extent this response reflected his true feelings. Still, there was definitely a hint of truth in his statement. The princess let out a sigh and picked up a pen to make a note of the spell they’d tested out. Only Shizuku could decide what made her happy and what choices she was willing to make. She wasn’t supposed to be in this world to begin with—both Leuticia and Erik knew that. So neither of them said a word. Erik took a sip from his tea, which had since gone cold, and let out a raspy breath. The pale moon had appeared in the sky outside the window. Ortea visited Shizuku four days after she regained consciousness. The queen had been busy dealing with the aftermath of the events that had occurred, and she silently entered the room, then glared at her as Shizuku hurried to her feet. Without saying a word, she slapped Shizuku across the face. This satisfying sound echoed throughout the room. Lars, who’d brought Ortea to see Shizuku, chuckled from his spot in the doorway. “P-Princess…” “You fool! Can’t you stay true to your word?! You said you’d come back. What did you think you were doing?!” The moment Ortea opened her mouth, a torrent of fury came rushing out. Shizuku couldn’t understand what Ortea was saying, but she could tell she was being scolded. And since Lars had brought Ortea with him, he’d probably given her a brief summary of what had transpired. Shizuku kept hearing the same word over and over again and, figuring Ortea was calling her a fool, she lowered her head repentantly. “I-I’m sorry, Princess…” “A simple apology isn’t going to cut it, you fool!” Shizuku’s faltering attempt at an apology in the continent’s common language brought a scowl to Ortea’s beautiful face. Shizuku had seen Ortea’s raw emotions several times before. The look in her eyes threw Shizuku into a fluster, leaving her at a total loss. This sudden turn of events had made Lyshien’s eyes widen in shock. “Come on. I’ll play with you,” Lars said, beckoning her over. Once the door closed behind them and Ortea and Shizuku were left alone in the room, the queen fell silent. It was as if she’d never been angry at all. She stared at Shizuku, looking somewhat helpless. “Are you going home?” She was asking Shizuku a question. Recognizing the word for “home,” Shizuku gulped. She was going home. She was going back to her old world, never to return again. There was nothing strange about going home. It was the reason she’d been traveling for so long. She missed her family. She wanted to speak to her friends. That wish had stayed with her, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to confirm Ortea’s suspicions. Ortea stared at the silent girl in front of her, then extended her slender arms. “You are going home…” The warmth of Ortea’s embrace made Shizuku want to cry even more. That was a testament to how much Shizuku loved her. Shizuku buried her face in Ortea’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She might not have the opportunity to see the queen again, but she’d never forget her. She’d remain in Shizuku’s memory forever. That was a promise she could make with confidence. “I love you…Princess.” Ortea didn’t understand what Shizuku had said. Shizuku couldn’t understand what Ortea was saying, either. Despite this, she had faith that they could understand each other on some level, and a single tear slid down Shizuku’s cheek. “Complex” didn’t even begin to describe the spell detailed in the Deviators’ files. It was nothing short of overwhelming. It had been a week since Erik and his companions had begun constructing a spell to create a portal with the help of these notes, presumably penned in an attempt to cross over to another world. Erik had been devoting nearly every waking hour to these experiments. Late one night, on his way back from the laboratory, he caught sight of Shizuku sitting in a cloister of the second floor. Bathed only in the blue hue of moonlight and the contrasting shadows, the world seemed muted—making Shizuku in her white nightclothes especially conspicuous. She was sitting on the railing, looking up at the sky. What was she doing outside of her room this late at night? Before Erik could ask this question, he found himself wondering what she was looking at. He followed her dark gaze up toward the sky. “The moon… Beautiful.” These words fell softly from Shizuku’s lips. Alarmed by her unexpected comment, Erik looked back at her, only to find that she’d turned her gaze toward him. A serene smile appeared on her shadowed face. “Were you looking at the moon? You’re going to catch a cold.” “Catch a cold?” It appeared that Shizuku hadn’t understood his second sentence. The way she repeated his words like a child made him smile awkwardly. He walked over to her and lifted her small body up. “Also, you shouldn’t be sitting in a place like this. If you fall, you’ll hurt yourself.” “Sorry…” This time, Shizuku seemed to know she was being chastised. When she lowered her head and apologized, Erik almost burst out laughing. The first words Shizuku had learned after losing the ability to understand his language had been “thank you” and “sorry.” This seemed to exemplify her personality perfectly, which he found funny. Come to think of it, she’d always apologized a lot, even during their travels. “You’ll get to go home soon, so I don’t want you catching a cold or injuring yourself. Be more careful.” “Go home?” It evoked some sort of emotion in Erik when she whispered parts of his sentence back to him, but he couldn’t figure out what. Erik erased the expression from his face and began walking down the corridor, holding her in his arms. Her dark eyes widened in surprise. “I’m fine, Erik.” “You always claim to be fine.” “Claim?” That word seemed to confuse her. Noticing the frown on her face, Erik clarified himself. “You’re just saying you’re fine.” In an instant, the look on her face grew troubled. Erik had grown accustomed to using higher-level vocabulary when Shizuku had understood what he was saying. When he talked to her, he built sentences using whichever parts of his boundless vocabulary he preferred. Now, though, that wasn’t an option. Every single word frustrated Shizuku, which quite deterred him from speaking. When he simplified what he was saying, it felt like he was revealing something he shouldn’t be, so naturally, he chose to stay silent. After turning two corners in the corridor, Shizuku’s room came into view. Once they reached the door, Shizuku took the key out of her pocket and unlocked it. Erik lowered her to the ground. “Thank you,” she said. “No problem,” he replied. “Good night.” “Night.” Erik patted her shoulder, then turned back around. He’d only walked a few steps when he heard Shizuku’s voice again. She was making a quiet plea in a language from outside his world. When Erik turned around, she looked as if she was trying to say something. In that instant, everything else was still, and a deathly silence hung in the air. It was a moment they’d only have now, yet Shizuku said nothing more. Erik forced a subtle smile, then continued walking away. Three days later, they completed the spell configuration. “I barely have any luggage!” Shizuku couldn’t help but yell, having stuffed all her belongings into her bag. It was the first time she’d had to pack her things in a while, and Mea tilted her head quizzically by her side. In reality, though, Shizuku had nothing to take home from this world. Once she’d sorted through her stuff, she was left with nothing but what she’d been bringing home from university. Shizuku slung her bag over her shoulder and left the room. Mea had turned back into a little bird, and she was perched on Shizuku’s shoulder. She gently stroked the bird’s vivid green body with her fingers. At first, Shizuku had intended to take Mea with her, but both Erik and Leuticia had put a stop to that idea. They warned her that taking a demon with her could lead to unforeseen consequences, since the structure of Shizuku’s world was so different. They also pointed out that Shizuku and Mea could no longer communicate, making it hard to utilize her assistant demon. Having to say goodbye to Mea weighed heavily on her, but she understood the reasoning behind their advice. Once Shizuku was gone, Erik would become Mea’s master, as specified in her contract. Shizuku lovingly stroked the small bird’s back over and over again. As Shizuku made her way to the office where they were supposed to meet, she spotted Erik coming from the other direction. He seemed to say something about how he’d been coming to get her. He approached her, and they walked down the hallway side by side. The weather outside was pleasant. Beams of sunlight a little too warm to describe as gentle poured down from above, and a calm breeze drifted through the air. Shizuku gazed at the greenery through the window, then came to a sudden halt. “Oh! Right!” “What’s the matter?” “We should take a photo! A photo!” “Photo.” Erik, who had a good memory, seemed to remember what that word meant. Shizuku got her phone out, and he gave her an awkward smile. She grabbed a court lady who happened to be passing by and asked her to take the picture for them. Having suddenly been handed an unfamiliar device and asked for a favor in a language she’d never heard before, the court lady looked startled. Erik, who’d more or less figured out what Shizuku wanted, stepped in to provide an explanation, and the woman nodded and got the small screen ready. “Whoa, I feel like I’m being reckless because I’m about to leave. Sorry.” The court lady was definitely bewildered by the situation, but she didn’t let it show on her face. Impressed by her composure, Shizuku stood next to Erik by the window. With a slightly bashful smile on her face, she waited for the shutter sound. That photo would be preserved on the small screen of her phone, but even without it, she’d never be able to forget this faraway world and its people. Her refusal to let her memories fade would keep them alive forever, right up until the day she died. When Shizuku got her phone back and looked at the screen, she laughed at how they looked. She showed it to Erik and shared her honest thoughts. “It feels so strange to have a photo of us!” “I wonder how that thing works. The fact that it’s not magic makes it even more bizarre.” The pair had a somewhat disjointed conversation in their respective languages, and Shizuku carefully put her phone and the photo on it back in her bag. Shortly thereafter, the pair arrived at the office. The four other people who would witness Shizuku’s departure were already there. The royal siblings and the two Deviators were the only people in the castle who knew Shizuku was from another world. Ortea had chosen not to come, saying that she’d only get angry. Lars, however, had argued that she was really just afraid of crying. Both reasons seemed plausible to Shizuku. After checking that everything was ready, Leuticia opened a teleportation gate. It had been a year, but the desert was just as hot as Shizuku remembered. The blistering wind whipped up the dry sand, creating elegant patterns on the pale ground. Beneath the blazing sky, which felt like it was going to burn them, the group climbed onto the dragon and adjusted their coordinates. The creature was even bigger than the last time she’d seen it. Shizuku gazed down at the large shadow it was casting on the distant sand. “It…feels weird to be riding the dragon I looked up at back then.” “If you lean that far forward, you’ll fall off.” “Heights don’t bother me anymore. I had to force myself to get used to them.” Shizuku murmured words only she could understand, holding down her hair as it whipped in the breeze. It had all begun when she’d appeared in that desert. It was hard to determine whether the journey to get back here had been long or short. “Oh, I think it was around here.” Shizuku pointed at the shadow of some low foliage far below her. The spot where they opened the portal would determine where in her old world she’d reappear, so she needed to be precise. Concerned about the realistic possibility of teleporting right into the middle of a road, she dismounted the dragon and stepped onto the sand. She surveyed her surroundings, checking whether the scenery looked familiar. “Yeah. I think this is the place… It has to be.” “We can always adjust the position slightly. We can check it once it’s open.” She didn’t understand what Erik was saying, but he was probably telling her not to worry. That said, Erik never said anything irresponsible. Perhaps he was saying something more practical. Shizuku forced a smile and nodded. Once she’d stepped away from that spot, everyone but Lars began to chant, focusing on the empty space. It was a truly bizarre sight. Come to think of it, she’d never understood the words people chanted. Automatic translation probably didn’t work on incantations, as they were too closely linked with this world. As Shizuku was absentmindedly waiting, the king quietly spoke up. “You can stay, you know.” “King Lars?” Was he telling her to go and come back once she’d rid the world of carrots? Shizuku settled on saying, “Don’t be so ridiculous.” The two fell silent so they wouldn’t get sand in their mouths and continued to watch the incantation. As each moment passed, the hot sand danced in the wind, slowly changing shape. This was the perfect metaphor for how the continent’s language would gradually evolve. When would the changes Shizuku had set in motion become apparent? In ten years? A hundred? Even longer? For a moment, Shizuku’s thoughts drifted to the future of the continent that had had its language disrupted. She was still a little unsure whether she’d done the right thing. Still, she was the only person who actually understood the freedom of language, so she decided to believe that it would be fine. Thoughts transformed into words, and words shaped thoughts. Those two elements intertwined as they grew and evolved, reflecting the emotions people wished to convey. The chanting stopped. Shizuku felt a weird tickling sensation inside her ears. It was as if the air pressure had shifted. She watched with bated breath as a hole appeared in the empty space in front of her. Unlike the portal she’d traveled through when she first came to this world, this hole let you see through to the other side, just like a teleportation gate. Through it, she saw a familiar place. Shizuku caught her breath. The surface of the portal shimmered, as if there was a veil of water covering it. Behind that thin film, she could see the street where she’d vanished that fateful day. It was the same path she’d taken every day for four months on her way to university. The nostalgic vision of the Japanese street tugged at her heartstrings. Drawn toward it, she walked across the sand and positioned herself in front of it. “It’s…really Japan.” How much time had passed on the other side of that portal? Everybody must have been worried sick. Her older sister had likely cried her eyes out. Her younger sister had probably been furious. When she got back, she’d head straight home to apologize to her family. She’d need to apologize to her friends and the university, too. She had to give her books back to the college… All of a sudden, her thoughts overwhelmed her. Struck by homesickness, Shizuku looked behind her, feeling a dull ache in her chest. She bowed at every person who’d helped create this opportunity for her. “Thank you so much. I’m so happy.” Shizuku’s statement was hesitant but sincere. Oscar smiled and waved at her. Lyshien looked a little sad but reciprocated Shizuku’s smile and bowed her head. “Take care,” replied Leuticia, a regretful look in her eyes. “Don’t act too recklessly,” her brother said simply. Lastly, Shizuku looked up at Erik. “Good luck.” He gently patted her on the shoulder. She loved how kind he was. It had been her salvation on numerous occasions. He’d given her so much… She wasn’t even sure if she’d repaid half of it. Shizuku bowed in his direction once again. Mea fluttered over to Erik’s shoulder, and Shizuku whispered “Thank you” to the small green bird. When all was said and done, fate was something that individuals had the power to control. Shizuku had arrived at the ending that she’d chosen for herself. Shizuku turned back toward the hole, holding onto her bag. She took a deep breath, inhaling the dry air and wind of this magical world. She loved this world and the people who lived here so much that she wanted to take every person she’d met by the hand and thank them individually. She loved herself, too. The person she’d become only existed because she’d arrived in this world. She’d become her own unique person. The person she’d grown into wasn’t all bad. She was stubborn, reckless, and often a nuisance to those around her, but she’d also refused to surrender the things she was unwilling to give up. She was a little proud of that. Shizuku gripped firmly onto her bag. She felt no hesitation. It was there somewhere, but she couldn’t feel it. Convinced that she was confident about her decision, she looked ahead. She’d made plenty of monumental steps throughout her journey, and that trend only appeared to be continuing. She released all the air in her lungs. “Shizuku.” The booming voice made Shizuku turn around. She gazed at the man who never said very much. Erik wasn’t going to repeat the words he’d uttered in the freezing castle. If he did, something would change, so instead he’d keep those words to himself until the very end. Shizuku smiled and bowed. Then she took a step toward the hole, reaching out the hand she was carrying her bag with. She’d been carrying that bag with her for so long. Erik watched in silence as her battered bag, worn out by its extensive travels, passed through the hole. With that, it landed on the asphalt on the other side of the portal, from which no sound could be heard. At that moment, Erik opened his mouth. “…Shizuku.” His whispered words fell from his mouth like droplets onto the patterns in the sand beneath him. “You…really…” A powerful gust of wind came rushing through the air. The spell the four individuals had created faded away and vanished, as if it had fulfilled its purpose. Nothing was left in its wake. Squinting in the scalding sunlight, Shizuku looked behind her. “I know this is insulting to my parents, but it’s this world that shaped me into the person I am today.” Shizuku had thrown her bag, packed with all her belongings, into her old world. With a troubled yet determined expression on her face, she timidly extended her hand to her speechless friend. “So teach me your language.” With that, the pair’s journey came to an end. The name Shizuku Minase would not be recorded anywhere in the history of the continent. However, one scholar’s name was referred to in historical accounts surrounding the beginning of a particular era. Heralded as the Era of Great Change, it followed the loss of innate language skills. Known in records as Vivia Babel, the woman was noted for her role in establishing language acquisition methods in early childhood, as well as for being the author of several dozen picture books, quietly making her mark in the annals of history. As she stood in the desert where it had all begun, Shizuku smiled. Erik took hold of her outstretched hand. “You always surprise us, don’t you?” “Erik?” “Deciding to live in a world where you don’t understand the language…” Refusing to finish his sentence, Erik smiled. He met her gaze, his eyes full of earnest, warm passion. As he held the hand of the girl who’d never given up, he replied to her earlier statement. “It would be my pleasure to teach you. I’ll be strict with you, though.” “Strict?” “You’ll have to work really hard.” History did not speak of the journey the girl and the mage embarked on, nor did it reveal what happened in the end. It was a tale unknown to the people of the continent. With the struggles and change that swept across continent firmly behind them, the pair peacefully made their way back, side by side. They exchanged words, sharing their feelings with one another. The final book that Shizuku would draw, depicting her happy life, would go on to be shared with children for generations to come. THE END