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Chapter 70 - The Eyes of Nothing (3)

(Leo)

***

My mind commanded my body to slam my hands onto the grass and shout as loudly as I fucking could, somewhere between intoxicated on magic and disappointment. This time, at least, I had a physique with which to do it, but I was so worn out that the shout withered into a weak whine.

I grasped the thin stems of weeds as they hugged my fingers, and I threw my head back.

"Damn!" I yelled in a shriller voice than usual as words cracked and split like perforations at the veins of leaves.

"All that for nothing!"

While I wiped my wet eyes off, the absence of attention afforded to my tantrum caught my notice. Neither Sinclair nor Algor came over to help me, so I wondered where they were. I was in too much pain to move by then, but I slid into the shade to lessen the impact.

SLAP!

Someone cried—a weak but somehow feral noise I didn't expect.

"You're telling me you couldn't find her? Did you even try, Sinclair? Or was Leo so weak that he became a burden to you?"

A sharp exhale sliced through the silence.

"That's why you grabbed the amethysts like that, right? It's because you know he's only useful for party tricks and running his mouth."

Opening my eyes in shock, I was too frazzled to even consider being offended, and I turned in the direction of the voice, spotting a puffy-faced Inei as he caused a scene in front of the audience.

I recognized Sinclair with a red mark in the shape of a hand on their cheek while they glanced down at the dirt.

As their head snapped up, that was one of the only times I ever saw them angry. Their expression was so twisted and devious and just… shattered as they drove teeth like screws into their lips with heavy breaths through their nostrils.

Nobody even bothered to calm them down; Sinclair was far too powerful to even consider such a thing.

"I tried my best. He tried his best. Heck, even Algor tried his best!" Sinclair walked up to the poor, stupid king.

"And Your Highness, no *Inei*," they spat, "you have no right to say anything! I even let you say and do what you wanted to me, but the moment you so much as utter one thing about Leo when all he's done is help,"—they seized the man in a magical grip and shook their head—"you're overstepping the boundary, *sir*."

Sinclair was the last person I expected to do this—to the point I almost found it enamoring to see how defensive they became. They subsequently threw the king into the courtyard's wall, leaving a hole his size in it. I almost pitied the fool, but he was the one ignorant enough to not know he had that coming for him.

"Then, I'll fire y—"

Shrouded in a layer of red, Sinclair drew a circle with their other palm, and the king's speech halted as if a bone choked him.

I hadn't seen Inei cry since his youth. Emotional in his daily life, he somehow never let people see him upset at all costs for fear his hardened reputation would be tarnished. (He had some murky priorities for sure.) However, an eerie glaze coated his irises until they appeared lifeless—doll eyes for the marionette.

Mentally, he was far gone. He sobbed and writhed in the air, slamming deathly pale fists onto the jaunty bricks.

"Hikaru! Hikaru, don't leave me! I'm so sorry! I'm the one at fault! It's always been me! Don't leave!" he shamelessly shouted in front of the castle staff with his vision unfocused.

Tears streamed down his face as a thin voice made him sound unrecognizable. "Make it stop! End this! Stop this!"

Sinclair chuckled, drawing the circle counterclockwise this time. With pleased flaps of the wings on their boots, they stepped over to the man who was still stuck to the wall but hardly wailed anymore due to his clear irises.

"The thing that makes you the saddest is if your husband were to leave you."

A soft, threatening tone was all they needed to get the idea across.

"The thing that makes *me* the saddest is seeing someone I care about being insulted and slandered. Understood?"

Still suspended, Inei nodded hastily. "Yes, yes. Please let me down. I'll stop it."

Sinclair wasn't the one who released the man, however; Algor came from behind them and took the king from his magical shackles.

"Both of you need to stop it," he deadpanned. "We're not fully at a dead end. I have one more idea."

Sinclair's breathing was still labored, and Algor hugged them around the waist, whispering something in their ear of which I only heard a few lines.

"…You've changed, haven't you? You couldn't do this before…"

Wondering exactly what he meant and how he knew that, I curled my fists. Had the magic and rush of emotions not deflated my fervor, I would have seethed and started the second scene of the act in front of everyone.

I valued both the fairies, yet I wouldn't tolerate Algor's pushiness if it made Sinclair uncomfortable. (I wondered if that anger also came from some deep-rooted jealousy, but I decided that didn't matter when basic respect trumped all else.)

With hesitancy, Sinclair stepped away, and without turning around, they calmly said, "Move aside."

Besides the self-inflicted sharpness on my palms, the pain subsided, but I could not talk quite yet. I was thankful Akiyoshi decided to voice my (solely objective) thoughts instead, almost like we had an avenue of telepathic communication.

(That was what knowing someone well enough to the extent you could barge in on them in their underwear without them giving a shit was like—the true magic of friendship.)

"Algor, what's your idea? I think I speak for everyone when I say we wish to continue the search in any way possible with a minimal amount of conflicts."

Akiyoshi was surprisingly dignified and collected. If Sinclair had been the one missing, I doubted I could have been nearly as calm as him. It was almost admirable how many feelings he underwent and how few of them he showed at any given time.

Algor grinned and shook his head. He turned to address the audience of aristocrats and servants, receiving harsh glances from the two kings and Mr. and Mrs. Heide (who both also managed not to freak out to the extreme of violence).

I almost wanted to tell Inei to take a fucking hint before smacking people—especially Sinclair. (He was fortunate I was too weak to act upon my rage.)

"Let me start by saying I'm aware this predicament came about because of a curse. Any fairy here knows how to inflict one. It's not hard." Algor shrugged.

"I thought about it from that perspective with the question: How would one cause the most pain through an exile?" He straightened his wings out. "There was a simple answer."

Sinclair breathlessly demanded, "State it already."

Algor chuckled at them before shifting to a guise of seriousness.

"To inflict the most pain upon someone, why not send them two hundred years into the past so that they have no connections and lack the luxuries they would need to live a comfortable life?"