After the Time Keeper sent us back to our time, we ended up in Duke Rockmann’s mansion. The junior Rockmann was taken here after he collapsed, where he’s been treated by royal doctors and healers.
After hearing from the servants about all the noise in Rockmann’s room, the Duke’s wife, Norweira Rockmann, led us to the parlor on the first floor and told us how things got to this point.
I can see a starry sky and the Isle of Doran outside the parlor’s large window. It’s already night outside. Looks like there’s a full moon tonight.
“It’s my fault for feeling so safe about letting her into his room. It’s all because I’ve always relied on his magic...”
As Duchess Norweira hangs her head, her neatly made hair falls over her shoulders.
“I see now. You don’t need to regret it so much,” consoles Prince Zenon, sitting beside her on the sofa across from me. “He likes it when people rely on him. He must’ve let her into his room knowing what was coming. You’re not to blame here.”
Having her nephew do the talking is sure to cheer her up more than if it were any of the rest of us.
Of course she couldn’t have imagined her son’s childhood friend who had come to check up on him was intent on plunging a dagger into his heart, especially because she didn’t trigger Rockmann’s protective spells on the mansion. It’s not so much that the duchess was too reliant on Rockmann and more that he decided it was okay to let Treyse in. His mother hasn’t done anything wrong at all.
“It was a most peculiar sight,” continues Duchess Norweira.
Apparently, she heard Treyse’s cries and shouts and realized something was up in the mansion, and by the time she got to Rockmann’s room, he already looked different from usual. Though what she found rather more off-putting was the fact her son seemed wholly unbothered about the huge ornate dagger sticking out of his chest. She turns pale as she recalls it.
Rockmann told her he’d live and asked her to call his commander and the director at Harré, which she promptly did. She tried to get a coherent account out of Treyse, who’d taken up a spot by his bed to have a bit of a breakdown, but she kept talking about the past and it served only to confuse the duchess, which just made her feel more pathetic. A look of anguish appears on her face as she recalls it.
“Your involvement still made a big difference, believe me,” consoled the prince once more.
A male servant of the house had offered him a large chair, but he insisted on sitting by the duchess’s side instead, probably so he could gently pat her on the back as he’s doing now.
She cries for a while, then wipes her cheeks with a handkerchief.
The master of the mansion, Duke Rockmann, isn’t around. We’re told he’s off to the castle.
The knight commander and Director Locktiss apparently left a few hours ago as well, headed in different directions—the former to the castle, and the latter to Harré. The knight commander also took Treyse with him. The only people left in the mansion are Duchess Norweira, her fourth son Kees, the laid-up Rockmann, and the servants.
“Alois, he... Is something wrong with his magic?” asks the prince with hesitation, folding his arms, leaning forward, and turning his eyes to the duchess.
According to him, the duchess is particularly talented in healing magic, which is uncommon for daughters of dukes. She especially shines in her knowledge of human illnesses and poisonings.
She clenches her fists resting on her knees and faces forward.
“The spell on him couldn’t be more sinister,” she begins, knitting her brows. “I asked him to try speaking a few simple incantations to check if he can still use his magic, and he couldn’t even manage a basic cantrip, to say nothing of his fire magic.” She casts her eyes down and clenches her fists again. “Then I asked him what in the world had he done. And he said he ‘simply altered the curse.’”
“The curse?”
“I should show you,” she replies.
A male servant hands the duchess an object wrapped in cloth, which she lays out on the table. She unwraps it, laying bare a dagger with gemstones embedded in its haft.
“It appears to be enchanted. He said it was meant to destroy his memories, but he didn’t like that, so he altered the curse to temporarily sever him from his magic instead.”
“So his powers will be gone for a while...? But being without one’s magic is no different from death,” replies Prince Zenon. “Remember how it was when we dealt with Städal. There are only two cases when your magic disappears: when you die, or when you’re somewhere like the Land of the Sea where your magic is blocked out by external influence. When Nanalie’s vitality was drained, she slept through a whole month.”
“But hey,” adds Satanás, “doesn’t that mean he can sleep for a month or so like Nanalie and he’ll be back to normal? It’s no big deal, ma’am.”
“I hope so...” replies Norweira. “What bothers me is the nature of the magic flowing through his body. It’s like there’s a demon inside him. How did it become that way?”
We can’t simply go ask him about it, since he’s asleep. Treyse probably doesn’t know much either, and she’s not here anyway. If she did know, I’m sure the duchess wouldn’t be here racking her brains about what’s happened. And there’s only so much psychometry can do. I imagine it would be difficult to have the Time Keeper help with this either. It’s a dangerous artifact, and I’d rather not use it without a good reason. Which leaves only one other related party.
“Is asking the demon our only option?” I wonder.
“What demon?” asks Duchess Norweira, puzzled.
I point at the small box in Satanás’s hand and give the duchess the short version of the story.
“You can talk to it and it will understand,” I explain. “I don’t know if it’ll give us the time of day, but it’s the thing that cursed Treyse in the first place, so maybe we’ll get something out of it if they do a good job interrogating it at the order. Roc— I mean, Sir Alois told me he can read its thoughts. In all likelihood, it goes both ways. There may be a weird sort of pact sealed between him and the demon.”
“Guess we could interrogate it then,” utters Nikeh, nodding as she sips her tea.
I doubt it will tell us much, but given that we can’t ask Rockmann directly, it seems to be our only option.
“Say, O Elder of Time,” Benjamine, who’s sitting at the edge of the sofa, asks the doll in her lap. “You said you’re made of demonite, right? Would you happen to know much about demons?”
Everyone directs their gaze to the Time Keeper. The duchess blinks in confusion, as this is the first time she’s heard about the demonite in the doll.
“Wait,” interrupts Prince Zenon, raising his hand and looking around the room. “Given the state Alois is in, the mansion’s protective magic must be disabled at the moment.”
“Yes,” replies the duchess. “Michael set up a new protective spell and a mirror charm, but they’re not as sophisticated as Alois’s. Though I’m sure he’d get angry if he heard me say this.”
“I see. Then we had best stop here. Nikeh, let us return to the dormitory at once.”
“Right now?”
“That’s right.”
I guess he’s intent on preventing any leakage of information. If someone happened to overhear us talking here, we’d be in for far more trouble than what the Time Keeper has caused us. I’d rather not deal with another crisis.
“Can the order have this dagger?” asks the prince.
“Yes, please take it,” replies the duchess.
As Prince Zenon takes possession of the dagger, he performs a slight bow to her in gratitude and starts to give us instructions.
“I want to question the Time Keeper too. Since you guys found him first, I’d like Benjamine to come with us as well. Nanalie, you should stop by Harré for now. You had to leave work without prior notice, right?”
“Yes. I have to report to the director.”
I left work just like that, and it’s already night. It hasn’t even been a day since Rockmann collapsed, in spite of the multiple days we spent in the past.
What kind of a working adult would disappear for a whole day without a word, regardless of the reason?
“We’ll go normally, but Nanalie, you should teleport with a magic circle,” continues the prince. “Simply to be on the safe side, since we’ve just seen a demon who was after you. Not that I expect them to get you so easily, but just in case.”
“I’ll be on my guard for a while,” I reply.
We all get up from the sofas and get ready to leave. I thank Duchess Norweira for the tea, bid her goodbye, and put on a robe.
As we head outside and my friends mount their familiars, I extend my Cudgel of the Goddess and deploy the magic circle. It won’t take long to get to the director’s office from Harré’s backyard.
“Miss Nanalie!” calls the duchess from the entrance, waving me down emphatically.
“Yes?”
Judging by the male servant running behind her in a fluster, I take it she came running as well.
We’ve only met a few times, counting today, but I’m surprised she already remembers my name. Or maybe it’s only to be expected, since Prince Zenon mentioned it in our conversation a few times.
She looks perplexed and desperate, unfittingly for her pretty face.
“Please, —— him!”
“Duchess Norweira?”
She seems to be telling me something, but I can’t hear her well; the teleport spell’s already half-cast. With reluctance, I return to Harré.