Chereads / Unnamed Memory / Chapter 12 - Thinking of You

Chapter 12 - Thinking of You

"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.