"Mages are dangerous, so don't get close to them."
This was a phrase mothers often said to their children. It was something
kids heard from most adults.
Luly asked, "Aren't they human, too?" only to get told, "They look
human, but they're filthy creatures who defy the gods."
She was left to wonder what "filthy" meant… The young girl always
had trouble with tough words. She knew enough to grasp that people would
be angry if they found out her secret, so she visited the cabin discreetly.
Deep in the mountain was a small cottage where a wonderful magician
lived. He could make flowers appear, and he healed Luly's scrapes… When
Luly first met him after getting lost one day, he gave her candy and led her
back to the village where she lived.
Luly wanted to tell everyone about how nice the magician was, but she
kept her mouth shut. This was her secret.
Her hands full of gathered berries, she was running off to the mountain
cabin yet again.
Just before the little building came into view, Luly saw the magician
himself barreling toward her on the path. As soon as he caught sight of her,
he ran over and scooped the young girl up in his arms. "Thank goodness. I
was so worried. I didn't think I'd make it!"
"What's wrong? Make what?" Luly asked, thinking that her friend was
acting strange. He was very pale and completely flustered. She didn't
understand why. The magician merely offered the girl a weak smile.
"It's nothing. Come, let's get you inside."
"But I have to go right back today. It's my mom's birthday," Luly said.
"No! You can't go back to the village!" he cried.
"…Why?"
The magician didn't answer. Normally, he was always smiling. This was
the first time Luly had ever seen the man so close to tears. "Hide out here
for a while, then flee to another country. Run as far away as you can… All
the way to Farsas if need be."
"What…? I can't do that. I have my mom and my dad."
Why was he saying this to her?
Suddenly, Luly felt very worried. Shaking off the magician's grip on her,
she ran back the way she had come.
"No, Luly! You can't go back there!" he shouted, scrambling after her.
However, she kept running.
Luly ran and ran, until she arrived at a spot that overlooked the village
below…
…and saw her hometown engulfed in flames.
"That really takes me back," said a young man watching the white smoke
rise from verdant hills and drift beyond the distant forest.
His snow-white hair was tied up in a long queue. The young man's
delicate, doll-like features gave him an odd countenance—as though
something was missing.
He watched the smoke dissolve into the sky.
"I was born in the Dark Age, you see. Only once did my father ever take
me outside the country. That's where I saw people and towns on fire, just
like this. It really was a terrible era." Despite describing great tragedy, the
man's voice was indifferent and bereft of emotion. Even the words a
terrible era were as plain and ordinary as if he'd been describing what he
had for dinner last night. The mages accompanying him, however, all
looked upon their lord with eyes full of admiration.
"Lord Lanak, you should return to the castle."
"Ah, I suppose it's about that time. Yes, I still have many things to do,"
replied the white-haired man apparently named Lanak. He tore his eyes
from the billowing smoke and turned his gaze to the contingent of mages
before him. As calm as one could ever be, he continued, "Since we've gone
through the trouble of setting fire to the village, we'll need to send a proper
declaration of war. Not doing so would be an insult to those who lost their
lives today."
There was no sarcasm in his words acknowledging the people he'd
killed himself. He appeared to feel true pity for the dead but quickly broke
into a bright smile. "This is the dawn of a new era for this land. To that end,
we've got to reset everything for a fresh start. First up is the Four Great
Nations, I believe? If they're destroyed, all the others will fall obediently
into line from there."
Lanak held out his abnormally pale hands. A transportation array
appeared, though he had said no incantation. With a final smile, he
vanished. The burning village was left behind, unaware of the one
responsible for its fate.
All that remained was ash and a lingering smell of burnt human flesh
that drifted on the lukewarm breeze.
The sky above the castle was clear and sunny. However, thick ash-gray
clouds hung low in the distance to the north.
Standing atop the castle walls, Tinasha held out a hand to her familiar
who'd come from the direction of the approaching gloom. The gray, catshaped familiar leaped onto her shoulder and rubbed its head against her
cheek.
This familiar had been making the rounds all across the continent for
hundreds of years. Recently, its excursions had been limited to the newly
minted nation of Cuscull.
"I see. So it's true… Why now, after four hundred years…?" Tinasha
murmured, distress crossing her lovely face as she received her familiar's
report.
Truthfully, she wanted to leave and make for Cuscull immediately.
The very thing that had driven her to become a witch had at last come to
pass. It was nearly within Tinasha's grasp, and she wanted to reach out and
put an end to everything as soon as possible. It clawed at her so ceaselessly
that Tinasha felt liable to go mad.
Based on what she'd learned, however, things were still too complicated
and dangerous for her to act on emotion now. If she made a wrong move,
countless other countries would get involved and the death toll would be
astronomical. Even if one quick move could bring an end to the troubles she
had endured for so long, Tinasha couldn't ignore the potential mass loss of
life.
"What should I do…?" she wondered aloud, putting a hand to her chin
and falling into thought. The cat on her shoulder perked its ears up.
"…What is that? Your pet?" came a voice.
"Oscar…"
The prince was approaching along a castle rampart walkway. He
gingerly picked up the cat. Its black eyes went round and wide at the sudden
appearance of an unfamiliar man.
Paying no mind to the animal's reaction, Oscar scratched under its chin
as he looked at Tinasha.
If it were him in my position, what choice would he make given the
situation?
After half a year of observing Oscar at work, Tinasha knew he was an
exceptionally clever statesman. She knew that he cared for the safety of
others and that he'd undoubtedly answer the call if asked to help.
More than anything, Tinasha knew he was fond of her.
He'd once told her that as everything around her changed, he alone
would not.
If she was allowed to take his hand and make a request…
"Tinasha? What is it?" Oscar frowned, the cat now resting on top of his
head. Concerned, the prince's blue eyes were trained on the witch. Tinasha
held her breath for a moment as an impulse to tell him everything swept
over her…
She knew she could never tell anyone about her past transgressions,
however.
Tinasha stuffed down the emotions churning inside her like warm mud
and smiled at the young man.
"…It's nothing. And that isn't a real cat; it's my familiar."
"It is? Wow, it feels exactly like a real one," Oscar remarked.
"It's made with magic, just like Litola. And don't put the cat on your
head; you might startle someone. You're supposed to be a prince," Tinasha
scolded, snapping her fingers lightly. In response, the cat jumped over to
her shoulders, and she whispered in its ear.
"You go rest now. Thanks for all your hard work."
Those words released the familiar from hundreds of years of service.
The gray cat stared at her, then its head slowly lolled.
Abruptly, it dissolved into gray powder and blew away.
Oscar boggled at the sudden turn of events. "Was that really okay? Did it
just cease to exist?"
"Yes, it did, but it's all right. It's done its duty for me many times over
by now," Tinasha replied. In many ways, the cat was a representation of
Tinasha's own illusions, but she didn't need it anymore. Tinasha didn't need
to involve anyone besides herself. That's why she chose not to draw Oscar
into any of this, either.
Her relationship with him was nothing more than what the contract
dictated. She was his protector and would keep him safe. The agreement
said nothing of the reverse.
Tinasha closed her eyes to conceal the shadowy look in them. She took a
few seconds to get her emotions in order. Once the worst of her tumultuous
feelings had passed, she put a pretty smile back on her face. "Besides, I'm
busy right now cracking your curse," she said.
Her analysis of the curse was nearing a conclusion.
After that, all she had to do was compose a spell to break the curse. It
was likely to be extremely complex, so she'd sent away for crystals to make
magic implements infused with spells ahead of time. Upon reflection,
Tinasha realized she'd kept Oscar waiting quite a while, but at last the goal
was in sight. She was certain she'd end his curse and positive he'd be
pleased.
Tinasha grinned up at Oscar, and he smiled back. "About that, don't
forget you also have the option of marrying me. That's what I'd personally
recommend."
"You're about the only one who would." Tinasha snorted.
"Isn't my recommendation all that matters? What other opinion do you
need?"
"Mine for one! Listen to what I want here!" Tinasha cried.
The two had a way of getting off track and going on and on like this
forever.
Tinasha started to leave him behind, but he grabbed her hand and turned
her back around. She could feel in his grip his strong desire not to let her
get away, and she looked back at him.
"…What is it? Don't even think about sneaking out like you did before.
You've got too much to do."
"No, not that. The dress I ordered for you is ready for a first fitting, so I
came to find you."
"What…?"
The dress Oscar was referring to was one he'd ordered on his own when
a cloth merchant had visited the castle three months ago.
The ones Tinasha ordered herself had been of a simple design, so they'd
been completed much earlier. The fact that Oscar's had taken so long gave
Tinasha an uneasy sense of foreboding.
"I—I suppose refusing won't do me any good."
"You've got that right. Would you rather walk there on your own or be
dragged? Up to you," Oscar offered.
"I'll go…"
The longer Tinasha lived in the castle, the more things she had to do
seemed to naturally accumulate.
Hanging her head in resignation, Tinasha let Oscar lead her along by the
hand.
"It's sooooo gorgeous, Miss Tinasha!" Sylvia cried out, though it
sounded more like a shriek of glee. She was the first person to see Tinasha
come out wearing the dress.
Oscar looked Tinasha over from head to toe. Rather candidly, he
complimented her. "Looks pretty damn good."
"Thank you…," Tinasha said.
The dress was finely crafted of smooth black silk woven with abundant
silver threads. It was open at her arms and back, hugging her curves close
from the high collar to down below her waist. From the knee, the hem
flared out in a beautiful arc. Flowers embroidered in silver thread bloomed
all over the fabric. Against the witch's porcelain skin and jet-black hair, it
looked perfect. All who beheld Tinasha were utterly entranced,
unconsciously sighing in admiration.
Sylvia gazed at the witch, spellbound. "Miss Tinasha, let me do your
hair and makeup on the big day."
"The big day? What big day?"
"It's almost His Majesty the King's birthday celebration, of course,"
Sylvia reminded her.
"I know that's coming up, but why should I go? Isn't it just a ball being
held for diplomatic purposes?" asked Tinasha.
As the two women discussed this, Oscar circled Tinasha to inspect the
dress's craftsmanship. Once talk turned to the ball, an evil smile spread over
his face. "You're the one who's gotta go. Jump right into the lion's den and
get some experience socializing with humans."
"Why?!" Tinasha asked, indignant.
Rather timidly, the dressmaker spoke up for the first time, asking,
"Um…how is the fit?"
Instead of Tinasha answering, Oscar piped up happily from behind her.
"It's a little loose in the waist. Did you lose weight? You should make sure
you get proper sleep."
"I am. When I feel like it," Tinasha informed him.
"And could you make a hair ornament in the same shape as the flowers
on the dress but a little bigger?"
"Yes, Your Highness," answered the dressmaker, quickly marking the
waist measurements on the fabric and retiring from the room. Oscar
dropped a fond kiss on Tinasha's shoulder. Sylvia blushed as she observed
it, but Tinasha bore it calmly, a look of clear mental exhaustion on her face.
Oscar noticed her expression and lifted his head with a look of
displeasure. "You're really not affected the littlest bit."
"I can't react when you touch me so brazenly."
"Is that the problem?" Oscar asked.
"Is that not what it is?" Tinasha shot back, failing to understand and
staring at him with some confusion.
The prince rolled his eyes. "You don't see me as a man at all, do you?"
"Of course I don't. Though it's more like I don't see anyone in such a
way," Tinasha clarified.
Silently, Oscar balled his hands into fists and ground them against the
sides of the witch's head.
"Ow, ow, ow! What do you think you're doing? Honestly now!" Tinasha
cried.
"Sorry, I just got annoyed," Oscar explained.
Tinasha glared at the man while rubbing her temples. He seemed
entirely unaffected, however, even grinning. Once more, he inquired of his
romantically apathetic protector, "Why are you like this? Is it because
purity is so important to spirit sorcerers?"
"I think that's part of it, but I also don't want to get too close to humans.
Lucrezia is much calmer nowadays, but in the past, she used to take revenge
for getting dumped by magically moving all the water in a village's lake to
a different location. Observing things like that always made me feel
reluctant to get involved with anyone… Oh, and I put the water back, of
course."
Sylvia was frozen stiff, and Oscar had fallen silent, too.
Getting involved with a witch certainly did risk angry outbursts on an
entirely different scale. Suddenly, the most powerful witch's aversion to
love affairs seemed a very wise decision indeed.
Even then, one couldn't deny that Tinasha was exceedingly awkward
with humans. She appeared aloof as long as she kept people at a certain
distance, but once anyone got to know her, they quickly realized how
unaccustomed she was with socializing.
That was likely why Tinasha was so apathetic, even to herself. Shaking
his head, Oscar patted Tinasha's hair. She looked up at him, perplexed.
"Well, let's put a pin in that. I'm an exception, so think of me as
something different."
"Really?" Tinasha asked.
"Really. We've got half a year left, so I'll wait until then."
"Hold on. I don't think this is something that just needs a little more
time…," Tinasha protested frankly, but Oscar paid the remark no mind and
merely grinned. The hand on her head slid down to caress her cheek.
"I'm pretty confident that you'll change your mind. I suit you."
"…I really don't understand," Tinasha said, shaking her head. Her dark
eyes seemed to search the air for something invisible.
"So shall it be defined by me."
At those words, crystal balls no larger than one's fingernail began to
float in the air. A dozen spheres glided slowly as if guided on wires. Each
lazily came to rest in place on the red lines that delineated the spell.
Tinasha made sure they were all in their proper spots before beginning
her incantation.
"I pray that these words will turn to poison. Let them sow seeds of
thorns."
Her voice sang out the words. As the infinitely complex spell took
shape, her mind wandered.
If love could kill someone, then was that feeling in and of itself a
contradiction?
Whether a person killed out of love or out of hate, it brought on death all
the same.
Why then did humans treat them as totally different things?
Only the one who killed could know the truth of their motive, and even
they couldn't be absolutely sure.
Sweat beaded on her ivory forehead.
Cautious and precise, Tinasha wove together her power and her
intention.
"Fate goes round in a loop, impossible to escape."
Each line made the air vibrate, and the crystal balls rotated accordingly.
"No one shall touch it nor change it. Let my words turn to poison."
People kill people.
That's what emotions do.
That's what power does.
If strong feelings could push Tinasha toward such vile actions, then she
would avoid love and hate. She didn't want to ever remember.
At the same time, Tinasha didn't want to push herself to insanity. From
the very start, she was already caught in the midst of an inescapable
madness, after all.
"Blessings born of hatred, love born of a curse…"
Partway through a lengthy incantation, Tinasha let out a little sigh.
She tipped her head up to stare at the dark ceiling…then closed her eyes.
Failure wasn't an option. The witch was already running low on time.
She was sure there was nothing else someone who dwelled in the past—
someone like her—could leave behind.
That was why she was so determined to at least accomplish this one
task.
Honing her thoughts down to a single thread, Tinasha launched back
into chanting the spell.
Oscar felt like he'd been dreaming.
It was a very fuzzy sort of vision. He didn't know whether he felt happy
or sad, but he awoke with the distinct feeling that his dream had been very
emotional. The room was still dark, and only the earliest hints of morning
were visible through the window.
Rubbing his forehead, he moved to sit up in bed and noticed something
strange. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
"Did I not wear one to bed…?" Oscar murmured, scrolling through his
memories even though his thoughts were still muddled… Then he noticed
someone next to him.
His witch was asleep, seated on the floor, with her torso slumped over
his bed. Several crystal balls were scattered all around her.
Something had clearly happened, but Oscar didn't have the foggiest idea
what it was.
Sitting up, he reached out and tugged gently on the witch's hair.
"Tinasha," he called.
No reaction. He tugged again, and she finally stirred. She gazed at him
with bleary eyes. "I'm sleepy…"
"You can sleep after you've explained what happened," Oscar insisted.
Tinasha shook her head like a petulant child. As she gradually came back to
her senses, however, the light came back to her eyes. She let out a little
yawn and sat on the bed.
Looking up at Oscar with her dark eyes, Tinasha declared, "I broke your
curse."
"…What?"
Oscar stared at his protector. Dumbfounded, he found himself
questioning his own ears.
Tinasha rubbed at her watery eyes. "Technically speaking, I didn't break
it so much as I set up another curse in the same location to offset it. There's
a part of the spell with a name attached to it… It's like a password. Only the
spell caster designated by that name can do anything about it, so I left it in
there. But if that's all it is, then it's just part of the blessing and protection
charm, so there shouldn't be any ill effects."
"…You broke the curse already?" Oscar was stunned by the sudden turn
of events.
He knew that Tinasha had been nearly done with analyzing the curse,
but now it was seemingly gone altogether. Oscar had borne the burden for
fifteen years. That it was neutralized with so little fanfare left him at a loss
for words.
Blinking her sleep-heavy eyelids, Tinasha pointed at Oscar's chest. "You
can wash that off now. Go take a bath or something."
Now that she mentioned it, Oscar realized there were intricate sigils
drawn in blood on his body. They looked magical and were still a vibrant
red.
"Is that your blood?" Oscar asked.
"It is. I used it as a catalyst," answered Tinasha.
"Why did you do it while I was asleep?"
"Because it was easier with you unconscious. You kicked up a fuss when
I waited for you to fall asleep the last time," Tinasha reminded him, floating
up into the air. "Okay, I'm going to head back to my room for some
sleep…"
She was about to teleport away when Oscar suddenly grabbed her hand.
Frowning a little, she looked down at him. "What?"
"Ah, just… Thank you."
At that, a bewitching smile reached Tinasha's sleepy eyes. She squeezed
his hand in return, placing a kiss on the back of it. Then she faded away like
a ghost, leaving only the crystal balls scattered about the floor.
Oscar gazed down for a better look at the blood sigils painted on his
body.
He was certain that for the rest of his days he'd never forget this
morning.
The entire castle was abuzz with excitement.
Today was the king's birthday, though the festivities were more of an
opportunity for state diplomacy than anything else. People from
neighboring countries gathered to sound out one another's intentions. As
the celebration was about to begin in earnest, a group of court ladies were
getting ready in a room of the castle.
"How's everything look?" Oscar, dressed in full court regalia himself,
knocked on the open door before entering.
The witch looked up at the sound of his voice. "Oscar… I'm
exhausted…"
She'd been held fast for two hours while her hair and makeup were
done. She longed to get free, but Sylvia and the other court ladies were
having too much fun and wouldn't let her go. Whether Oscar actually heard
the witch's plea for help was unknown, as he was staring at her in awe.
"You look…stunning."
"What's that supposed to mean…?" Tinasha grumbled.
"I put my whole heart and soul into it! She was already beautiful, so it
made the perfect base for makeup," Sylvia piped up. Upon hearing that,
Tinasha judged the makeup session to be over and stood at last.
Her long hair was bound up, though a few wispy locks trailed down in
front. The floral hair ornament that matched the embroidery on the dress sat
perched above her ear. Silk gauze around the flower trailed down over her
alabaster shoulders.
Makeup in hues of blue had been applied to accentuate her already
prominent nose bridge and big dark eyes. As a result, her normally cool and
clear features took on the proud, intimidating air of a queen. Coupled with
her youthful face, this rendered her entirely unapproachable.
"You did a great job. Completely exceeded my expectations," Oscar
said, very pleased. He reached out to brush Tinasha's cheek.
Suddenly, Lazar's voice came echoing down the hall. "Your Highness!
Where are you?"
"What is it? What's wrong?" Oscar asked. Lazar heard him and rushed
into the room. He looked appropriately gobsmacked when he caught sight
of Tinasha. Oscar didn't turn to look at his old friend, as he was entirely
preoccupied with the witch. Instead, the prince merely asked again, "What's
wrong?"
"Ah yes. Well, the prince from Tayiri won't be able to attend, it seems.
There was an attack on a town close to the border with Cuscull about a
week ago. In his place, he's sent his royal younger sister."
"Cuscull?"
"Attack…?"
Oscar and Tinasha's faces hardened at Lazar's words.
With a grave tone, the man continued his explanation. "Without
warning, Cuscull mages burned a village to the ground. By the time help
had arrived, no survivors could be found."
"No survivors… They killed everyone?" Oscar inquired.
Not in the past one hundred years had there been something so vile.
Mass killings of innocent citizens had been commonplace during the Dark
Age, but it was the Age of Witches now. Most thought such a tragedy
impossible unless one of the witches was involved.
Bile rose in Oscar's throat. "I have no idea what Cuscull is thinking. I've
also got to wonder if Tayiri plans to publicize the attack and ask other
countries for assistance."
"They might. If Tayiri could handle this on its own, a nation of mages
who oppose Tayiri's state religion would never have declared independence
in the first place. I'm sure those in charge want to do something about
Cuscull, whether that means incurring debts to other nations or not,"
Tinasha replied.
"True. Fighting mages when your nation shuns the practice of magic
sounds difficult," Oscar observed.
Mages have great power in war but are actually quite difficult to utilize
efficiently.
The stronger the spell, the more likely it is to affect soldiers on the
mage's side, too, and the longer the incantation as well.
It was hard to control large-scale magic at all, and few mages mastered
the delicate practice. What's more, the farther away a spell was loosed, the
more time an enemy mage had to counter it. Mages needed to be able to get
fairly close to their opponents if they wanted to have any hope of
outsmarting them by being the first to cast a spell. As a result, spell casters
were placed in the rear guard behind soldiers and typically lobbed small- to
midrange magic attacks. Opposing magic users would attempt to guard
while hurling back spells of their own. Such a task was exceedingly
difficult and was the exact reason so many mages devoted themselves
entirely to defense and support magic.
Tayiri was an exception, as they had no mages and therefore no way of
defending themselves against a volley of spells.
One had to wonder what Cuscull's aim was in all this. Whether it was
revenge against Tayiri for so many years of oppression or something else
entirely, none could say for sure.
Oscar frowned, then noticed that something seemed off about the witch.
The blood had drained from her face. Her eyes were glinting with a mixture
of grief and rage.
"Tinasha? What is it?" Oscar asked, and she snapped back to herself.
Her eyes wavered as she looked up at him. "…Oh, no… It's nothing,"
she said, smiling. Then, after some hesitation, she tugged on his sleeve.
"Um, do you have some time? There's something I'd like to talk to you
about…"
"Oh? This is unusual. Sure, I don't mind," Oscar agreed.
Knowing her, this wasn't going to be anything romantic. Instead of
making everyone clear the room, Oscar led Tinasha out onto the balcony.
Beyond the railing sprawled the castle courtyard. Oscar glanced idly at the
plants and flowers shadowed in the dusk. Tinasha followed him out,
shutting the door behind her.
"Oscar, do you like Nark?" she asked.
"Huh? Nark… You mean that dragon of yours? I mean, I guess I don't
hate it. Why?"
"Then could I ask you to look after it? I'm its current owner, but I'd like
to transfer that over to you. It's fond of you, too…"
"Why?" Oscar pressed.
Tinasha didn't answer. She just looked up at him with a pained
expression. The dissonance between the look and Tinasha's fanciful hair
and makeup lent her an air of instability. It was unusual for the witch to
appear so helpless, and Oscar scratched his head. "All right. I don't mind."
"Really?! I'll transfer it over now, then," Tinasha decided, breaking into
a broad smile. Without a sound, she floated into the air and placed her palm
to Oscar's forehead and hummed an incantation. He caught her in his arms,
and she settled into them.
"Now, you're its owner. It'll come when you call its name. You don't
have to worry about food; it'll find some on its own."
"Got it." Oscar nodded.
She was radiant when she smiled. The moonlight tinted her ivory skin a
pale-blue shade. Her gaze appeared to be on him, but her attention was far
away—perhaps linked with the night itself. With the distinct feeling that
he'd get utterly swept away if he looked at her for too long, Oscar bit back a
sigh.
He stroked Tinasha's cheek with his other hand, and her eyes narrowed.
He slid his hand over to the back of her head, drawing her close.
She didn't resist. She placed her hands on his shoulders and then kissed
him quite naturally.
When her soft lips drew back, Oscar huffed out a laugh. "That was not
what I was expecting."
"You have to change things up every so often," Tinasha replied with a
smile, reaching out a finger to wipe off the lipstick that had stuck to Oscar's
lips.
When Oscar entered the ballroom accompanied by the witch, the pair
looking as beautiful as a painting; all eyes turned to stare at them. Aware of
the wave of murmurs sweeping across the room, Tinasha sighed to herself.
Her arm looped through Oscar's, and she whispered to him, "It's unheard of
for me to make an appearance in a place like this…"
"No one knows who you are," Oscar assured her.
"If you refer to me as your fiancée, I will send you flying."
"I'll remember that," he acknowledged dryly.
They made their way to the king and bowed. Tinasha took a step back,
and Oscar offered his official well wishes. The king eyed the two of them
with some amusement, and when Oscar finished his address, the king
beckoned Tinasha closer. She came to the king's side, and he lowered his
voice so that only she could hear him.
"You're going along with this well," he said.
"It's only because I signed a contract with someone very pushy… Is
your family known for such things?"
"Since you've graced us with your presence, shall I introduce you to the
guests?"
"Please, no. I believe the noble young ladies of the neighboring
countries have been awaiting a meeting with the crown prince."
Upon hearing that, the king swept his gaze over the ballroom and picked
out the ladies in gorgeous gowns who studded the hall. Each was staring at
Oscar with anticipation and at the witch with hostility.
The king chuckled. "That does look tricky. My sympathies."
"I see writing things off as someone else's problem runs in the family…
I wish you'd do something about him."
"At his age, he isn't going to listen to his father. You should just go
ahead and get together with him."
"You're really going to say that, too?" Tinasha cried out without
thinking; then her hand flew to cover her mouth. She hurriedly curtsied and
returned to Oscar's side.
"What were you talking about?" he asked her, suspicious.
"The troubles of life…"
Oscar looked like he wanted to hear more, but Tinasha refused to speak
further. She spent an hour with Oscar at the ball; then when the timing was
right, she escaped out into the gardens.
"I'm so tired…and so glad this dress isn't for dancing…" Tinasha
sighed, savoring her freedom as she glanced back at the ball with everyone
in their finery. The witch could dance, of course, but she had a feeling that
doing so would invite unwanted trouble. She was about to slip away when
someone called out to her from behind.
"Are you all alone, beautiful?"
"Gah…"
The disgusting catcall made Tinasha screw her face up, but she schooled
her features into a smile before turning around. Standing before her was a
well-groomed young man. He must have been a guest at the ball.
She replied blandly, "Just out for some night air…"
"That's perfect. I just came out to do the same myself," he said, striding
up to her and taking her hand rather naturally. "If it's all the same, I'd like
to accompany you."
"Mmm…" Tinasha sighed. She'd missed her chance to escape. Now she
had to render this person unconscious without leaving any proof behind.
As he caressed her hand and Tinasha began to wonder if she could just
bury him in the gardens, someone appeared from one of the side paths. This
man noticed the two of them and gave a little snort. He said to her, "Miss
Tinasha, are you about ready?"
"Ah yes. I'm coming," she said, shaking off the man's hand as fast as
she could and scurrying away after excusing herself. The man looked
reluctant to let her go, but she didn't spare one glance back at him as she
hurried to Als.
"Thanks. I was about to knock him into next week."
"I have to admit, that was funny to see. But, well, I suppose it's part of
my guard duties to protect you from unsavory men like that," young
General Als declared, laughing loud and long.
Annoyed, Tinasha wiped off her poor abused hand. "It was really awful.
I don't want people groping at me like they have permission to do so. He
was much too familiar."
"True, although you don't seem to mind when it's the prince."
"…Huh?" Tinasha paused in confusion when Als pointed that out; she'd
never noticed it herself.
When Oscar touched her like it was the most natural thing in the world,
she'd often thought his hands felt warm or comfortable—but never
unpleasant. At most, she'd found Oscar's caress distracting.
She wondered what the difference meant but gave up on it halfway
through her thoughts. Even if she got an answer, it didn't matter anymore.
She shook it off only to suddenly feel uneasy all over. Her skin prickled.
"Someone's watching."
"Huh? Miss Tinasha, did you say something?"
"…No."
The disquieting sensation disappeared in an instant. There was no one
else around but Als and Tinasha.
The witch tipped her head up. She gazed at the moon, as if searching for
something she'd been longing for.
Back in his chambers, Oscar was lounging in a chair, feeling entirely fed
up. What in the world do I do now? he thought.
Sitting in front of him was one very prideful princess in a brilliant gown.
"Your Highness, what's wrong?" inquired Princess Cecelia of Tayiri,
who was attending in place of her elder brother. She looked at Oscar with
eyes plainly filled with hope.
Oscar had struck up a conversation with her in order to ask about the
Cuscull situation, but Cecelia had said, "It's very complicated, so I can't
discuss it here" and invited herself to his private chambers.
Now that she had gotten Oscar alone, however, Cecelia refused to
discuss any matters related to Cuscull. From the look of things, she knew
nothing of politics, though perhaps she was tasked with making an ally of
the power behind the throne of an influential country—or just seducing
Oscar.
"…Time to kick her out," Oscar muttered under his breath and got to his
feet. Just then, there was a light rap at the window. On reflex, Oscar called,
"What is it, Tinasha?"
The witch opened the window and entered, then looked shocked to see
Cecelia there. Oscar was prepared for Tinasha to react in a dramatic
fashion, but instead she turned calmly to face the princess.
"I am so very sorry, but I need to borrow him for some important
business. I hope that's all right with you," Tinasha said very politely but in a
manner that brooked no objections.
Cecelia did not take the imposition well. "I never… How very rude to
come in from a place like that! Your Highness, just who is this woman?"
"My wi—mage," Oscar replied, correcting himself just before the word
witch could escape from his mouth. When Cecelia, the princess of a country
that hated magic, heard that, her eyebrows flew up. She leaped to her feet
and brazenly stepped right in front of Tinasha, glaring into her deep, dark
eyes.
"A mage, was it? A mere mage who doesn't know her place… How
filthy. Begone!" she haughtily decreed.
Before Oscar could reply, Tinasha coolly spat, "A mere mage? You
should watch your mouth, you imbecile."
"What did you call me?!"
"Leave. Do I have to repeat myself before you understand?"
The witch's eyes were like two pools of bottomless black—a silent
gravity that dominated the entire room.
Cecelia shrank back, cowed by the intensity of her gaze. Oscar gaped at
the witch in numb shock.
He had seen Tinasha look fearsome and intimidating before, but never
had he seen her with eyes that could force others to submit so completely.
Oscar himself possessed that same ability. His eyes were that of
someone who stood above the rest—a ruler.
Cecelia looked at Oscar imploringly, but once she realized no help
would be coming from him, she all but fled the room. Only the witch and
Oscar were left.
It seemed to Oscar that Tinasha in formal wear was an entirely different
person—someone he didn't know.
Tinasha slowly turned around and approached Oscar. There was an
irrepressible self-deprecating look in her eyes.
"Tinasha?"
With a smile, she placed a finger to his lips, indicating that he shouldn't
speak. She lifted off into the air and gave a light wave of her right hand.
Blood started to ooze from her pointer finger.
Then she wrapped both arms around Oscar's neck and began to write
something in blood behind his left ear. As she concentrated on her work,
she whispered something in the prince's ear.
"Oscar… I am someone who should have died four hundred years ago…
At present, I am only a witch. I am nothing more than the remains of a child
who should be dead. You should not fall for a dead woman."
She finished writing and cradled Oscar's face in her hands. From very
close, she gazed into his eyes the color of a clear twilight sky.
"You should do what you need to do. The future of this country is riding
on your shoulders. Don't forget that."
The darkness within Tinasha's gaze was akin to stepping into the abyss.
A baseless anxiety seized Oscar.
"Tinasha? What's going on?" he pressed.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Then she looked at him again
and parted her red lips. "Do you remember what I said…when I undid
Lucrezia's spell?"
Oscar's eyes widened.
She didn't wait for his reply. Her face came closer, pale and twisted in
sorrow. She kissed him softly on the lips.
Then she landed soundlessly on the ground and turned her back to him.
The air in front of her—where her dark gaze now focused—warped.
In the next moment, an unfamiliar man materialized from the twisted
space.
The man's long white hair was the shade of melting snow, and his skin
was similarly pale.
The light blue mage's costume that clung to his lithe body looked
remarkably similar to the one Tinasha often wore. This man with an air of
androgyny to him gazed at Tinasha and smiled. "Aeti, I've come for you.
You've grown so much bigger…ah, lovelier."
At that, Oscar wanted to shout out. But when he tried, he found that his
voice had been silenced. No matter how he tried, his body refused to move,
too. That kiss just now had bound him with magic.
Tinasha suddenly leaped off the floor and launched herself at the man.
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Lanak! You really
are alive!"
Oscar had never heard Tinasha's voice sound so full of pure joy.
The man she'd called Lanak stroked her hair fondly. "I knew you were
looking for me. But I couldn't do anything for so long…"
"It's all right. It's enough just to know you're okay."
Tinasha took the man's hand and cradled it against her face. Seeing the
witch act so unusually shook Oscar to the core. Tears were glistening in her
eyes, and her happiness was palpable. He was well aware that this wasn't
the smile she used as a mask. Who was this man who inspired such feelings
in her?
Lanak smiled at Tinasha, apparently taking no notice at all of Oscar.
"You won't have to feel lonely anymore. I've built you a country, too. It's
called Cuscull. It's small, but it's going to grow quickly. I'm certain you'll
like it. You're going to be its queen."
That left Oscar reeling.
Cuscull, the newly formed country of mages.
This dangerous-looking man before him was the king of that country?
Tinasha answered him with a tone of rapture, not sounding the littlest bit
perturbed. "If it's my country, I'm going to make lots of requests."
"Request away. It's your right," Lanak replied, wrapping his left arm
around her. Noticing Oscar for what seemed to be the first time, he asked,
"Who's he?"
"The man I signed a contract with," Tinasha explained.
"The bearer of Akashia, hmm? Sounds dangerous," Lanak said, facing
Oscar and making a motion with his right hand.
Tinasha saw it, and for a second, her expression twisted. The spell
binding Oscar broke.
Wasting no time, Oscar tried to unsheathe Akashia, but Tinasha leaped
in front of Lanak and gave the man a smile. "Let him go. Even if the sword
has power, it's just a sword in the end. It means nothing if the bearer has no
strength of their own."
"Tinasha!"
Oscar felt like he was trapped in some awful dream.
His witch, the person he should've known better than anyone, now felt
terribly far away from him.
Where had her heart gone?
Slowly, Tinasha turned around. An unmistakable belligerence blazed in
her dark eyes.
"My contract with you ends tonight. The curse is broken. You don't
need anything more from me, I believe."
"There's still time left on it," he said.
"Not anymore," she said, a cruel smile flickering across her face.
Oscar finally drew Akashia. He pointed the tip of it just past Tinasha.
"I'm not letting you leave with him."
"If you intend to hurt Lanak, you'll have to go through me."
Tinasha spread her arms wide, and a longsword materialized between
them. She grabbed hold of it.
In an instant, there was a terrible pressure about the room.
Oscar did his best to stay calm. His mind was reeling from a chaotic
mess of questions.
At this distance, he was confident he could kill Tinasha.
While she was touted as the most powerful witch, that met its match
against Akashia.
Tinasha was the one who'd trained Oscar so that he could kill her, after
all. However, even knowing that, the prince found it difficult to take a
single step forward.
He was of two minds—the desire to focus on battle and the desire to
reject it.
Time froze where it was, and there was a horrible silence that seemed to
go on forever. Then Lanak embraced Tinasha from behind. "It's all right.
Let's go."
She gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Magic enveloped the two of
them.
"Tinasha!" Oscar shouted, but she had already winked out of sight.