"Aeti, where are you?"
He called her name.
The spacious castle of Tuldarr was formed entirely of cold stone. The
people who walked its halls were like crafted dolls. No one turned to look at
him. They didn't see him.
With one exception—her.
"Aeti?"
Lanak peeked into an alabaster hall. There was the girl who would be
his bride, standing in the middle of an empty room.
Her slender arms were outstretched, and a finely woven spell burst forth
like a flower blooming. Suddenly, it expanded to fill the entire chamber, and
Lanak was struck breathless.
The spell was intricate and expansive, the height of craftsmanship.
No matter how Lanak stared, he couldn't understand it. He couldn't
parse it. Her power far outstripped his.
It was all he could do to stand there in shock. Finally, she noticed he was
there and turned around, giving him a sweet smile. "What is it, Lanak?"
"…Aeti."
Lanak had come because he wanted to see her. In this cold and quiet
castle, she was his only friend and ally.
His teachers had appeared unenthusiastic for a while now. After many
days of feeling stifled, wondering what had changed, he learned that her
tutors had all gone.
That's why he'd wanted to see her. He'd planned to comfort her and tell
her that he'd be the one to stick with her no matter how lonely she was.
But now…he knew.
Her power was the reason she was lonely. No one could teach her
anything. That was why her tutors left, and it was also why everyone lost
interest in him.
…She would be the one to inherit the throne of Tuldarr.
Surely everyone was thinking it. This delicate, lonely girl would be the
next queen.
She'd shown up after Lanak, yet at some point she'd far outpaced him.
If that truly came to pass, he would—
"Lanak?"
She was looking at him with her dark eyes. The eyes of the powerful.
The gaze of a pure person who knew nothing.
Lanak swallowed down the bile rising in his throat…and smiled. "It's
nothing, Aeti."
Even so, he was the only one who could protect her. He had to.
She still knew nothing, after all, and she was so alone in this castle.
"…Lanak, wake up."
Her voice was in his ears. She gently shook him awake.
Scenes of the distant past fading before him, Lanak blinked his eyes
open. A woman was staring at him, and he focused on her.
"…Aeti?" he murmured by reflex, and she frowned the littlest bit. Her
face was that of an adult, one he didn't know. He always felt slightly
uncomfortable looking at it. Letting out a deep breath, he straightened his
posture on the throne where he'd dozed off.
"I suppose I was…dreaming," he said.
"What kind of dream?"
"A dream of the past. When you were still a little girl…I think."
He meant when she was still a helpless child. Lanak racked his brain
trying to recall the rest of the memory that was growing hazy with each
passing second.
At his words, the woman merely made a curious expression. "How odd.
Anyway, it's already a new day."
All the preparations had been made for their move to reform the
continent. Emotions ran deep in Lanak's eyes as he looked at the woman.
"It's all thanks to you. Now the land can be at peace. Mages will live their
lives without fear."
Tuldarr had fallen long ago and would never return. There was no point
in reclaiming its throne. That country had not chosen Lanak.
That was why he made a new country for himself. One that would
ensure the oppressed could live peaceful lives in the future.
The witch, once a little girl, narrowed her eyes as she smiled. "If that is
what you wish."
If not for her, Lanak's ideas wouldn't have become reality. She had the
power to change all his visions into something real. That was the one thing
he hadn't obtained, no matter how hard he'd wished—
"…Aeti."
"Yes?"
The low timbre of his whispered call was answered quite innocently.
Her reply brought him back to himself. He didn't know what he'd been
thinking or what he was trying to say. Something bitter had been spreading
inside his heart. That much he was sure of.
"I'll protect you, Aeti," Lanak said, as much to remind himself as the
woman.
Now that she'd been reduced to a witch, he would protect her from
others. He had to. She was now a wretched creature, shunned and despised
by all.
Lanak nodded with satisfaction at his own answer.
However, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to fully go away.
Nearly fifty thousand troops gathered from the Four Great Nations
teleported to a fortress to the west of Tayiri.
The number might've seemed excessive considering they were only
going up against a few hundred Cuscull mages, but when faced with an
opponent of unknown strength, it felt necessary.
Oscar had successfully coerced the full story out of Reust and was livid
to discover that the Tayiri prince had been so easily manipulated into
wasting time. The day the witch had asked Reust to wait for was the
following day. The only hope now was to move out immediately in the
hope of catching Cuscull before its mages could enact whatever plan they'd
concocted.
At sunset, Oscar, still fuming, met with the generals at the gates of the
fortress. They discussed their marching route for the next day. During the
meeting, Oscar glanced up and happened to spy Sylvia running toward him.
Panting and gasping, she hurried to her king's side and delivered a report.
"Your Majesty, the scouts recovered a civilian girl. Apparently, she was
attacked by the mages on the road leading from here to Cuscull. Everyone's
gathering in the council room right now. You should come, too."
The girl's name was Luly.
She survived the burning of her village that sat near the Cuscull border.
A kindly mage living secluded in the woods had taken her in, but the two
had been separated after nearly being discovered by Cuscull forces. She
was found by the enemy as she made her way to the fortress, and they gave
chase. Oscar found himself deeply impressed as he listened intently to the
tale on his way to the council room.
"I can't believe she's unhurt after all that."
"Perhaps the Cuscull pursuers were merciful because she's a child. In
any case, you should hear it directly from her."
When they reached the council room, Sylvia opened the door for her
king. Oscar entered and joined a number of other royals and commanders
from other countries.
Encircled by these powerful people was the young girl. Immediately, her
eyes lit up as they fixed themselves on Oscar. "It's the prince! You're really
here!"
"…I'm not a prince…," Oscar muttered out of habit but then decided it
wasn't worth making a point of.
The girl had evidently heard his whispering, however. "Yes, you are!
She showed me. She said you were really strong!"
"Showed you? Who showed you?"
"The lady who saved me from the bad magicians. She was really pretty.
I couldn't stop crying, so she told me all kinds of stories. She showed me
lots of stuff. She put her hand on my forehead, and I could see all these
scenes like they were really happening."
It was a childish explanation, but a bell began to ring in Oscar's mind.
He sank to his knees and looked the child square in the eye. "Did she have
black hair?"
"Yeah. And black eyes. With no light at all, like nighttime."
He'd expected that answer and let out a little sigh. "Damn that elusive
woman…"
Standing back up, he placed a hand on top of the thoroughly exhaustedlooking little girl's head.
She'd been chased by mages, saved by a witch, and found on a prairie
an hour's ride from the fortress.
The troops departed at dawn and paused their march almost immediately
to send out mages as scouts. They couldn't afford to walk right into a trap
like what'd happened on the Asdra Plains.
Before long, the mages returned and expressed that nothing seemed
peculiar or amiss.
Doan was one of the scouts, and Oscar gestured for him to come speak
privately outside the tent.
"Is that true?" Oscar asked. "Nothing?"
"Actually, we could sense some faint magic in the vicinity but didn't
detect any spells. That said…if Miss Tinasha set a spell, I don't think any of
us would've been able to sense it anyway," Doan replied.
"I see. I thought so," said Oscar.
The others were wrapping up their discussion, having decided to press
on straight through. If they detoured now, they wouldn't be able to cross
into Cuscull on the same day. Even if it was a trap, the best course was
moving straight ahead.
As Oscar was deliberating over the situation, a young woman piped up
from behind him. "I do wish you keep moving after asking me for a favor."
"…Here's just the person I was looking for," Oscar said, turning around
to find the Witch of the Forbidden Forest pouting.
Hands on her hips, Lucrezia glared at Oscar. "I went to look at all the
towns and cities! It was a lot of trouble, you know!"
"Sorry. So what did you find?"
Passing soldiers and commanders glanced over with interest at the
beautiful lady having a hushed conversation with the king of Farsas. Oscar
and Lucrezia continued undaunted, though.
"A bit of this, a bit of that," she answered. "It certainly looks like our
girl has done something extraordinary. While the citizens appear to have
vanished, she's actually just delayed their time to the extreme and placed
them in a pseudo time-suspended state. On top of that, she's put up a
defensive barrier around them and taken away their sense of awareness.
They aren't gone. They're all still there, even now. Perceptive humans
should be able to sense them."
"Ah, I see…," Oscar said, remembering how Suzuto had reported the
feeling that something was there. Now that Lucrezia had explained it, Oscar
understood the cities were essentially full of invisible, intangible people.
Tinasha had somehow managed this incredible feat across eight cities
simultaneously. He was struck all over again by how fearsome the Witch of
the Azure Moon was.
Full of admiration for Tinasha, the king asked, "Can you undo it?"
"No way, that would be too much work. Besides, she's arranged it so
that it will wear off naturally with the passage of time. It's due to expire in
another hour, in fact," Lucrezia explained.
"Seriously?!"
"Seriously. Okay, I'll be going now."
"Hold on a second."
Lucrezia lifted her arms to teleport away, but Oscar grabbed one. She
gave him a quizzical look.
"I'm sorry, but since you're here, I'd like you to tell me if Tinasha has
cast some sort of magic ahead."
"Why me?"
"No one else can."
Only a fellow witch possessed the skill necessary to detect Tinasha's
spell craft.
Lucrezia retorted coolly, "No matter what's out there, you can't afford
any detours. So it hardly makes a difference. Rest assured, it's not anything
that will kill you." Then she stuck out her tongue. Evidently, she already
knew what sort of spell lay waiting on their path.
Oscar sighed. "So there really is something. Nothing good comes of
having Tinasha for an enemy."
"If you really understood that, you wouldn't have asked me for help.
You've got enough on your plate just dealing with her. If she finds out I was
involved, too, things will only get worse. Do you want to wring your own
neck?"
"I'm not in a position that affords choosiness. For now, I can only deal
with things as they come."
Oscar felt pretty sure he could find a way to silence the other countries.
Lucrezia picked up on his implicit meaning and gazed at him in
astonishment. "Stop acting so inflexible. It'll backfire on you later. If
anything, I'm giving preference to what she wants far more than you are."
"Giving preference? She's acting with total disregard for her own
interests," Oscar shot back.
"Even so, I can't help you more than I have. You'll have to figure
something out on your own," Lucrezia declared. Her words were harsh but
fair. Oscar scowled.
Lucrezia gave him information but refused to get directly involved. That
was her line in the sand. While it looked like she was forsaking Oscar, she
was actually respecting human freedom.
Oscar understood that and nodded, accepting that he wasn't going to get
his way. "Fine. I'll figure something out myself."
"What a good boy you are," teased the grinning witch. Her smile
quickly melted away, however. She turned very serious, far more so than
Oscar had ever seen before. In a low voice, she said, "She won't protect
herself. You must be her shield."
"…I know."
"I'm very glad she has you at this turning point," Lucrezia admitted, a
hazy fondness passing over her amber eyes. The emotion was gone after a
single blink, and Lucrezia smiled as wide as she ever had. "Work hard and
do your best."
After issuing some rather light words of encouragement, she was gone.
Oscar had the distinct feeling that two witches had him in the palms of their
hands. He took a breath to recenter himself, and then he went back into the
tent.
In the end, it was decided that the fifty thousand troops would proceed
as planned along the original route, although they suspected a trap.
In expectation of the worst, the royals and commanders were to all ride
in the very middle of the formation, however. This included Oscar, who let
his other generals lead the march while he surrounded himself with Als,
Meredina, Kumu, Doan, Kav, and Sylvia, among others. As long as he had
them near him, he knew he'd be able to weather whatever happened. Even
if it was a magical trap.
Much to the surprise of many, nothing extraordinary happened during
the first hour of marching. The commanders gradually began to relax in the
face of the uneventful monotony.
As the procession soldiered onward, a messenger came running from a
battalion stationed at the vanguard.
"No matter how far we go, our surroundings stay the same."
Upon hearing that, Kav murmured wonderingly, "Wow… To set up a
blockade of such a huge chunk of space. We had no idea we were going in
circles. Fairies use similar magic in forests a lot, but this might be the first
time in history that one on such a large scale has been accomplished."
More than half of what he said sounded more like a compliment than
anything, and Oscar felt a headache coming on. It was almost as if he could
hear Tinasha shouting Just go around and around in circles, then! at him.
"Her very existence should be illegal." Oscar groaned. "How can we
break the spell?"
"Locating its essence and destroying it is the quickest way out. Judging
from the scope, Miss Tinasha is not actively maintaining it now. She's set
up sigils and something to use as a core to do that for her. That's if we can
find it first—it's impossible to see this spell."
"I can't see it, either," Oscar said.
They were at a complete loss. Privately, Oscar cursed Lucrezia's
heartlessness, though only just a little.
The soldiers had halted, and from Oscar's position in the center of the
march, they seemed to be in quite the disarray. He looked around and saw
that the generals, royals, and aides-de-camp were trading information and
ideas on how best to escape their trap. His eyes caught sight of Reust, and
Oscar made a sour face.
It was all because of Reust's time wasting that things had gotten this bad
in the first place. Oscar felt a fresh wave of irritation threaten an angry
outburst.
Just as Oscar bit it back…a guest arrived.
It was a man clad in black mage's robes. He materialized in the midst of
the crowd without any forewarning, and as everyone's heads began to turn,
he bent one knee and made a sweeping bow. In a full, ringing voice, he
greeted the army with all due formality.
"I believe this is our first time meeting. I am the chief mage of Cuscull,
Bardalos."
"Wha—?"
Immediately, several soldiers drew their swords. In an instant, the air
was crackling with tension, and Bardalos gave an exaggerated shrug. "Ah,
don't be too hasty. If you kill me, you'll never get out of here. This is a fine
work of art crafted by the bride of our very own king. I doubt you'll be able
to get out now that you're inside it."
"You clown… What have you come here for?" spat out a Cezar general.
Bardalos only smiled at the attempted intimidation. He answered with
theatrical flourish, as if reveling in his assigned role. "On this fine day, you
are all bravely gathered here to make an offer of subordination to Cuscull. I
am most extremely and humbly delighted. I would be thrilled to allow you
the chance to witness our king's great act of bringing the entire mainland
under his control. If I may be so bold as to escort you…"
Bardalos wheeled around to take in everyone surrounding him.
"However, I'm afraid that I am unable to invite each and every one of
you. We do have limited seating. That said… Yes, I do believe we have
room for those of you who are here in this vicinity."
"Who would go along with that?!"
"Don't get ahead of yourself!"
Angry cries rose in reply to Bardalos's arrogant invitation. The man paid
them no mind, a masklike smile painted on his face.
Akashia in hand, Oscar stepped forward. "Fine. Take me."
"Your Majesty?!" shrieked Kumu. At once, Bardalos flashed Oscar a
pleased grin. He spread his arms wide, black robes billowing. A
complicated spell appeared before him.
"Of course, I can take you… But all the rest must go as well. No one has
the luxury of saying no. I'm afraid I rather need you as an audience. After
all, you're—"
The transportation array activated. The gate widened to encompass
around fifty people, with Bardalos at the center. Screams and shouts of
fright filled the air, muffling the latter half of Bardalos's sentence.
"—to be the bride's hostages."
Bardalos sneered ominously.
The transportation spell brought them to the middle of a huge, open
wasteland.
Gritty, sandy air whipped past.
They were standing in the midst of decaying ruins. A round plaza thick
with sand clouds was half-crumbled away, lined with a row of equally
eroded white stone pillars. Much of the stone paving underfoot was cracked
and peeling. Ten steps led up the center of the plaza to a raised section.
Atop that sat an old stone altar and a suspiciously new-looking empty
throne.
Oscar stood in the middle of the plaza, turning to observe everything.
"We've been ambushed, just like they planned," he muttered.
Everything looked peaceful, appearing as some visage from the distant
past. Along the outer edges of the plaza, an arena of circular stone steps
towered over them imperiously. The weathered things looked just like
petrified flower petals.
At present, the many rows of encircling steps were filled with several
hundred Cuscull mages. Their chilling gazes were locked on their newly
arrived guests. Mixed in among them were quite a few strange-looking
creatures, including winged, mid-level demons. Presumably, these had been
summoned and put to work.
Oscar gazed at the crowd calmly, but the others were frozen in place,
whether out of astonishment or fear.
Keeping his eyes forward, Oscar called for one of his confidantes. "Als,
what's your take?"
"Not good. There's way too many of them and way too few of us."
With only fifty on Oscar's side, a head-on battle seemed a poor choice.
Oscar checked on how his other subjects were doing and then drew
Akashia. Pitching his voice so they could hear, he ordered, "I have a
defensive barrier, so don't worry about me. Protect yourselves."
No matter what happened, Oscar knew he would not die so long as
Tinasha was alive. Oscar didn't intend to let his team die, either, however,
and he readjusted his grip on Akashia's hilt.
At that moment, a man appeared at the top of the central stairway,
flanked on either side by other mages.
His white hair caught the eye, and his robes were a magnificent finery
unto themselves. He stepped forward with his retinue trailing in his wake.
Next to the altar, Bardalos bowed to him and gave way.
Oscar fixed his eyes on the newly emerged man. "Lanak…"
When those around Oscar heard his growl, shock crossed their faces.
Lanak was a historical figure from four centuries ago, but here he
supposedly was looking not a day past twenty. With his abnormally pale
hair and skin, it was like he'd walked out of a dream.
Lanak surveyed his audience and smiled. "Welcome to the ruins of
Tuldarr's cathedral."
The involuntary guests all exchanged looks. Ruins of the famed Magic
Empire, a country that prided itself on its exceptional power, had been
sleeping here in silence throughout the centuries. Lanak took a seat on the
new throne that rested amid the ruins of a country lost so tragically.
"I've brought you all here today to share a proposal. At our current place
in history, people suffer cruel discrimination and strife. Tayiri, the foremost
enemy of our nation, is the greatest example of this. Their god is unfair and
fickle. His power does not reach you. Such is why people murder one
another. Whether it be hate or love, they kill."
Lanak's voice was even, bereft of both sternness and compassion. The
man appeared to be a doll parroting a learned phrase. His eyes even seemed
to be made of glass as he cast them down. "But we can put an end to that.
No more fighting. That will be the rule. Anyone who can't abide by it will
be punished immediately, no matter where they are on the mainland… I
have the power to enforce this."
"What?" Oscar cried without thinking. Many others were left
speechless. Surely some of them doubted Lanak's sanity. What he said was
tantamount to declaring his own divinity.
Suspicion flickered in the eyes of some of the guests, who suspected
Lanak of deception. The ruler of Cuscull laughed. "I'm sure you know of
the five huge reservoirs of magic known as magical lakes. They are formed
of natural life energy, magic, and the souls of countless humans. Right now,
each one is divided, mindlessly drawing in the life force of its surroundings.
But if we use a spell to connect the lakes into a network, it would form a
giant web across the continent. Once we do that, I'll be able to see
everything that happens right from this very chair. Even the weather will
bend according to my will. Magnificent, don't you agree?"
…Surveillance of the mainland and control of the weather.
It was like some nightmarish future vision. If Tinasha were here, Oscar
knew she'd object.
A vision of her doing just that popped into Oscar's mind, and he let out a
puff of laughter.
"Your Majesty…," Als warned from his spot at Oscar's side.
"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'll take this seriously."
The magical lakes were formed upon Tuldarr's destruction. Originally,
they were the power that Lanak was supposed to inherit but had proven too
much for him to control. Now he had fashioned a new method of doing so.
The demonic beast incident had taught Oscar about the power of the
magical lakes. Their wild and mighty energy accidentally created that
terrible creature from something never actually meant to be a weapon. If
Lanak could purposely bring all the magical lakes under his control, the
potential he'd possess really would rival a god's.
"He's practically insane for even thinking to try this, though."
No matter how noble Lanak's ideals were, he couldn't be allowed to spy
on the entire mainland. No one knew when his self-righteousness would go
off the rails.
Lanak stood from his throne and smiled. "The spell will take about an
hour. Waiting might bore you, but I do want you to bear witness. This is the
dawn of a new era, after all."
The king of Cuscull made sure his audience gasped in shock before
breaking into a wide grin. "Now then, allow me to introduce my bride. If
not for her, we could have never performed a spell of this magnitude. I'll be
borrowing her power as the catalyst. Aeti, come here."
Lanak waved his right hand, opening a teleportation gate next to him. A
woman emerged with three mage attendants in tow.
She was a resplendently pale creature, signifying to all that she was the
bride in question. Her radiance was such that it made it easy to forget the
dire circumstances at hand.
Her dress was replete with a long train crafted of multiple layers of lace.
Black flowers were strung into her long, ebony hair. Her fine features
would have taken a sculptor a lifetime to re-create, and her dark eyes were
cast downward in melancholy.
Slowly, her lashes lifted and she cast a glance at Lanak. As she did, the
audience gathered at the bottom of the stairs realized who she was and a
frisson of terror ran through the crowd. Two of the three mages at her side
turned pale as well. The one who didn't was a young woman who'd seen
fewer years than her peers.
Bardalos smirked as he took in the bride's expression. A smile on his
face, Lanak inclined his head. "What's wrong, Aeti?"
"Did you undo my spell?"
"I didn't. I helped Bardalos bring them here. I wanted them all to see."
"…Ah," Tinasha said shortly, then turned back to give a reassuring smile
to the attendants that flanked her. She moved to sit down beside Lanak's
throne. Midway through her motion, a rustic chair made of white stone
popped into being to catch her.
Lanak placed a hand on her shoulder. Then he began to chant a slow and
deliberate recitation.
As the sound of his incantation echoed off the ancient ruins, Oscar thought
about what he should do.
There was only one hour until the spell was complete. He had to do
something to stop it soon.
Simply trying to kill Lanak would incur retaliation from the surrounding
Cuscull mages. The other captives would no doubt be dragged into the
fighting, too. Worst of all, the enemy greatly outnumbered them, ensuring
that Oscar's side would lose.
"I just need an opportunity…"
Oscar looked to his shoulder and saw Nark let out a little yawn. He then
turned back to stare at the woman who gave him the dragon. Her dark gaze
had dropped to her feet; she refused to meet anyone's eyes. Oscar wondered
what her goal was in all this.
Pamyra didn't let her inner turmoil show on her face and simply kept a
close watch over her lady.
She'd never thought they'd summon an audience.
The mage couldn't be sure whether that had been Lanak's doing or
Bardalos's, nor did she want to think about how things were going to play
out with this new change to the plan.
"Give me power… Protect us…," Pamyra murmured to herself, praying
to anyone who might be listening.
Lanak's chanting echoed throughout the half-rotted sanctuary.
Four hundred years was a long time.
It was long enough to lose your mind, but Tinasha had overcome that.
For the first century, she hadn't been able to stand to talk to anyone
besides Lucrezia.
Her life had been an endless series of torments, from the loss of her
country to the betrayal of the one she loved most. Even after she'd become
a witch, there were those who still hunted her down, trying to gobble up
everything she had. Tinasha despised everything about those who had let
such terrible things happen to her.
Eventually, she succeeded in locking away her grief and resentment but
gave up on trusting and loving other people in the process. Tinasha feared
her searing hatred would return and bring the world to ruin if she ever dared
to love anyone again.
After the completion of her tower, Tinasha began to grant audiences to
those who overcame its trials. As time went on, she discovered she was
starting to like people a little.
They were interesting.
Fiercely devoted.
She was envious of how their lives soared and dipped so beautifully.
So this is what humans are like, she thought. Why am I different?
How much more time would have to pass before she could die?
Was slowly whittling down her own soul really bringing her closer to
what she wished for?
Life in the tower was peaceful and never changing. She was free and
alone.
Tinasha never found what she was looking for, no matter how long she
looked. Nor did she know why she was searching.
Her time was spent grasping at delusions.
Then it came. At last, she found the person she was searching for.
His humming voice was low and pleasant to listen to.
It was the voice that had often been her lullaby. His presence gave her
the strength to bear her empty childhood. So long as that boy was with her,
she could survive being driven into a detached wing of the castle for her
studies.
It was a sweet voice, one that promised protection.
Tinasha closed her eyes and followed the magic that was being drawn
out of her. She felt the enormous spell Lanak was weaving.
Once it was completed, everything would change. The spell he was
chanting was the beginning of the end.
What she wanted lay just ahead.
The sight of his demolished homeland didn't inspire any longing nostalgia
in Lanak.
In the Dark Age, the Magic Empire spanned a large territory, yet was
also impenetrable by other countries. The king at its head commanded
multiple high-ranking demons, any one of which could decimate an army.
Lanak had once believed in the future that ancient Tuldarr envisioned. He
had vowed to see it done.
All those feelings for his nation had died out at some point, however.
Perhaps they'd vanished when he realized he was not to be chosen as ruler,
or perhaps it was when Tuldarr fell. Even Lanak couldn't remember
anymore.
A long sleep had worn his heart and mind thin. Even his very
surroundings felt veiled and unreal as he sat on his throne. His one grip on
reality remained the warmth he could feel coming off the witch he was
clutching. He steadied his breathing and carefully wove together the words
of the spell.
"Silence drifting on a sea of grief. Countless outstretched hands choose
me. Neither morning nor night. Their eyes are everywhere."
Borrowing from Tinasha's inexhaustible wellspring of magic, Lanak
crafted the spell by tying together strands of her power. As small spells
threaded together, the creation turned massive.
At the same time, he reached out across the continent toward the five
magical lakes, grasping and linking them. The growing spell sucked up
even more magic from the lakes and urged them into harmony with one
another. Quickly, Lanak's conjuration began to extend out to every coast.
Huge amounts of force pulsed and coursed, and winds began to eddy and
swirl very slowly in the ruins.
Amid the growing storms, Lanak's voice crackled like thunder.
"I command the first lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I
command you under the name Compassion, which brought you into being.
Your location shall be daybreak."
…Lanak suddenly found himself wondering what he'd do once this was
over.
He'd only ever thought to control the land through magic. He hadn't
considered what to do after. He glanced at Tinasha, who was still sitting
next to him.
Perhaps he'd build her a mansion here. A place where she could live in
peace. She used to love her birth country. Surely that hadn't changed. Lanak
wanted to grant her the relaxing days she deserved. He wanted to free her
from her duties and loneliness.
"I command the second lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I
command you under the name Jealousy, which brought you into being. Your
location shall be morning."
Magic of this scale had never been seen in all of recorded history. The
ceremony required scrupulous care. There was meaning in taking the
trouble to do so, however. Once completed, there would never again be war.
People, no matter who they were, would gain the right to live their lives.
When he thought about it that way, even his long years of sleep seemed
worthwhile.
"I command the third lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I
command you under the name Denial, which brought you into being. Your
location shall be noon."
At the moment, Lanak had no complaints about taking the throne.
If there was one regret he truly had, it was that he couldn't quite recall
the sort of person he was in the past. He didn't know what he loved, what
he hated, or why he committed such a terrible act against Tinasha. He was
still the same person, but his own self felt formless and unmolded.
"I command the fourth lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I
command you under the name Longing, which brought you into being. Your
location shall be twilight."
When he thought of the past, the first thing to come to mind was always
her as a lovely young girl. In his memories, she was always blushing shyly.
He had to protect her. She existed solely for him to protect.
"I command the final lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I
command you under the name Hatred, which brought you into being. Your
location shall be midnight."
Why had he lived for four hundred years? Why hadn't he died?
He didn't know what he'd been thinking, putting himself into a magical
sleep, but suspected it was so he could see her again.
Calm feelings surging within him, Lanak gazed down at his bride.
She was staring up at him and perhaps had been for some time.
There was a challenging glint in her dark eyes.
For some reason, that look made him flinch and recoil.
A sneaking feeling began to grow.
He stopped chanting.
A smile flickered across Tinasha's face.
Lanak had never seen her make such an expression before.
Cuscull mages were abuzz with speculation as they watched the king's
bride suddenly stand up.
She brushed Lanak's hand from her shoulder. He stumbled back several
steps.
"Aeti, what are you…?"
The witch offered no answer. With a radiant smile, she faced him. More
specifically, she turned toward the spell configuration he had created. With
elegance, she extended a hand.
"Come."
In answer to her command, the enormous configuration rushed to her.
The winds swirling around the ruins dispersed at this new interference.
Struck dumb, Lanak tried to stop the spell from going to her. He stared
at the woman, thoroughly stunned.
"What are you doing?" Lanak asked. "This is—"
With a snort, the woman took in her surroundings
She gazed at the ruins of her fallen country with an overwhelming sense
of wistful longing.
"It's been so long…"
Her clear, lovely voice resounded far and wide.
She beamed at Lanak with a smile so beautiful that anyone in the world
would've found themselves entranced by it.
"I've been searching for you forever… I really wanted to see you; I
missed you. When we met again, I was so happy I could cry."
In her eyes shone honest admiration for Lanak. It was a look not unlike
that of love, though not quite the same.
Under her slender fingers, Lanak's complex spell array wavered even
more, jerking toward her. From her petal-shaped lips fell a whisper imbued
with trembling ardor. "I really needed you… What I truly wanted…was the
names of the lakes that only you, as the caster, knew."
The woman's smile twisted, and suddenly she was someone new.
In an instant, she changed from adorable young girl to powerful victor.
Her grin was bewitching and cruel.
Lanak felt the abyss within her seize hold of him.
"I can finally set free the bound souls of the people you killed four
hundred years ago—all those poor people who melted into the magical
lakes."
A proclamation from the distant past echoed. It spoke of a wish that had
survived the passing centuries.
Finally, signs of dawning comprehension showed on Lanak's face.
The witch extended her pale ivory arms wide.
"Come to me."
The spell was drawn into her arms. Lanak desperately tried to stop it, but
it was wrested from his hands and quickly fell under the woman's sway.
With a sweet, beatific smile, she poured magic into the complex array,
resetting it.
At an incredible speed, the witch transmuted the spell from one that
would control the magical lakes…into one that would dismantle and divert
them.
"Aeti, you…"
Lanak had lost all thought. All that remained in his mind were his few
feeble memories.
She should have been the person he needed to protect.
Once she was a weak, lonely little girl, but now she was a feared and
hated witch. She couldn't survive without him. He had to ensure her safety.
Letting her overpower him…was unacceptable.
Lanak was waking from his long sleep. Fury and hatred blotted out the
dreaming persona. Arising to replace it were the emotions that had been
previously frozen dead within him, feelings from a time long since
destroyed.
The violent, indelible passion that had led Lanak to slice open a poor
girl was now surging back to life.
"Aeti… Would you betray me again?"
"Betray you? The reason I am still alive today was all for this moment,"
the witch declared.
"Now, let the atonement begin!"
Her roaring declaration was a link between the past and the present.
Furious heat boiled in Lanak. Four hundred years later, this woman was
still getting in his way.
"Why, you… I won't allow it!"
Furious, Lanak prepared a spell to attack, but Tinasha effortlessly lifted
a hand and diffused it. Furious at the counter maneuver, Lanak barked, "Kill
this woman! …No, neutralize her! Cut off her limbs for all I care!"
Tinasha watched Lanak's pale face contort with hideous fury as she
leaped back a few paces. With a nasty sneer, she cooed, "It's been a long
time since I've seen you look like that. You're the spitting image of the man
you used to be. Does that mean you've finally woken up?"
"You've got a big mouth for a little brat!" Lanak spat acidly.
Renart and Pamyra hurried to Tinasha's side. She glanced at them, then
snapped her fingers. Pieces of obsidian appeared, floating in the air all
around her. With the same motion, Tinasha pointed at the captured audience
still standing at the base of the stairway. Forty of the dark, glassy stones
winked out and reappeared in a pattern around the group, forming a barrier.
"Ahhh… I knew it!" Pamyra cried in consternation, and Renart sighed.
The stones were infused with spells originally meant to form a protective
barrier around Tinasha. Despite her power, she still required concentration
for the incantation to divert the five magical lakes. That was why she
needed a barrier that could protect Oscar and the others during the
intervening time. Both Pamyra and Renart knew, however, that Tinasha was
protecting the captives at the expense of guarding herself.
"Go!" the witch hissed to her two loyal attendants.
Fending off the hail of offensive spells that came barreling downward
from every direction, Pamyra and Renart both turned down the command.
"No!"
"I refuse."
Lanak's huge spell had already activated, synchronizing the magical
lakes. If Tinasha relinquished now, a storm of magical power worse than
when Tuldarr was destroyed would carve its way across the land. The only
hope was to reset the spell and divert the magical lakes. Tinasha was the
only person capable of such a feat.
Guarding their lady, Pamyra and Renart retaliated against Lanak's
closest followers. The man himself fell back behind a row of his supporters
and was still clearly enraged. Evidently, he didn't want to expend his own
magic.
Without an incantation, Renart summoned up a blade of wind. It mowed
down two mages still in the middle of chanting. Pamyra was about to give
pursuit when she sensed something and threw up a defensive shield at
Renart's side. Black flames battered against it.
"Ngh! Damn you…!"
The attack was more intense than she'd anticipated, forcing Pamyra to
devote all her strength into fortifying the shield. She stumbled a few steps
back and glared at the source of the strike.
It was the mad mage Bardalos, standing there with a look of unmitigated
glee. "So you really did betray us! How hilarious!"
Bardalos loosed another wave of dark fire. This time, he aimed for the
witch, who was still deep in the middle of her diversion spell. Renart
hurried to block it, but a second spell came hurtling toward him and rooted
his feet to the ground.
"Lady Tinasha!" Pamyra screamed, afraid that Bardalos's attack would
reach the witch.
Much to her relief and surprise, however, the shadowy tongues of fire
never knew the taste of Tinasha's flesh.
Looking slightly put out, Tinasha glared up at the man who had leaped
to protect her.
"You really need to learn how to ask me for help," he drawled.
Before Tinasha stood the one man who could kill her.
As Oscar was eyeing the situation at the base of the steps, Als came running
up to him, hacking his way through Cuscull soldiers along the way. Doan
and the other mages intermittently stepped outside the barrier to return fire
against the enemy mages. Nark swelled in size and engaged in an aerial
battle against five demons.
Of those fifty who'd been kidnapped via teleport, close to half managed
to grasp the situation and spring into action. Some even dared to push past
Tinasha's shield. They charged forward to protect the witch, recognizing
that she was key to their survival. Others climbed the stone steps in an
attempt to reach the throne.
As things quickly devolved into a free-for-all, Bardalos hurled a spear of
light toward the man who'd stood himself in front of the witch. The magic
pole arm merely struck Oscar's barrier and shattered.
"What?!" Bardalos exclaimed in shock. Oscar cast a knowing glance
back at Tinasha. She returned the look while still working on Lanak's spell.
…He's here. He actually came.
Just knowing that was enough to fill her with a curious feeling of
reassurance. The back of her throat grew hot.
"What do you want me to do?" Oscar asked, and Tinasha looked down
and ran some calculations. It was going to take her thirty minutes to finish
reciting the spell. She wasn't sure she'd be able to last that long amid the
current chaotic situation. Even if she did, there was still a chance of
catastrophic damage.
Tinasha looked back up at Oscar. Her dark eyes glowed with a light that
Oscar knew very well.
"Give me as much time as you can."
"As you wish," he replied immediately. Tinasha nodded.
Then she began the new incantation that would overturn everything.
Positioning himself in front of Tinasha, Oscar prepared to square off against
Bardalos. The mad mage grinned with delight. "The swordsman of Akashia,
eh? Heard a lot of legends. Wonder how much is true."
"Hmm? I don't care," Oscar spat out and advanced on Bardalos. The
other man had been expecting that, however, and aimed a sickle of flames at
Oscar's feet.
Dodging it would risk the spell hitting Tinasha behind him. Instead,
Oscar brought down his sword and smashed Bardalos's magic apart.
Akashia scattered the flames, leaving only black scorch marks on the stone.
Bardalos licked his lips. "You're pretty good with that. I thought you
were just a foolish swordsman who'd let the barrier do all the work."
"I don't want to make any trouble for her—that's all," Oscar shot back.
The defensive barrier was linked to Tinasha. Oscar wasn't sure what was
going to happen as she completed her spell. As such, he wanted to make
certain that he didn't drain her power unnecessarily.
Bardalos sneered as the king again fended off the magic rushing at him
with a single sweep of Akashia. "It'll be interesting to see how long you can
keep that up. You might even die without ever moving a single step from
where you stand. That sure would be a shame. My first audience with the
Mage Killer is certainly turning out to be rather disappointing."
"Sorry to say, but my merciless teacher gave me one hell of a training
regimen. I promise you won't be disappointed, though I can't promise your
survival."
"Bold words. I hope you have the strength to back them up," Bardalos
sneered. With an arcane motion, he summoned up some two dozen fireballs
that floated in midair.
A swordsman who kept his distance would soon find himself battered by
a volley of ranged attacks. While this upstart king possessed a legendarily
dangerous weapon, Bardalos believed there was nothing to fear so long as
the sword never touched him. In his mind, the battle was already over—and
he had won.
"Go on—burn to cinders," he cried with glee, commanding a flurry of
fireballs down on Oscar. With one eye on his burning storm, Bardalos lifted
his right hand to cast his next spell. He believed wholeheartedly in his own
dominance, but then his eyes widened.
"Die."
Unbelievable speed, unbelievable distance. A drawn sword glittered
before his eyes like a polished mirror.
All of Bardalos's thoughts ended there. In one motion, Oscar had
cleaved through the foul man's magical defenses and his neck.
Many of the Cuscull mages began to lose their will to fight after seeing
their chief mage meet his end in a flashy spray of blood.
Behind them, Lanak continued to rage. "Summon more demons! Kill
them!" he howled.
At this royal decree, the mages on the outermost stone steps began
summoning incantations. A mage near the throne began the same sort of
spell, but Als came leaping up and quickly struck that person down. With
Pamyra and Renart in the fray as well, Lanak's forces were quickly losing
control of the platform with the throne.
To compensate, more and more of the mages who'd been in the outer
ring teleported into the center. The occasional demon came with them, too.
"That can't be true! There's no way Lady Aeterna would betray us!"
rose Tris's voice above the melee.
She couldn't bring herself to attack Tinasha, but neither could she
defend her like Pamyra and Renart. Unsure and unwilling, she simply stood
stock-still in disbelief. As other Cuscull mages teleported to the center of
the fight, she was pushed to the back.
Tris's childhood dreams were dying before her very eyes, and it seemed
that everyone was content not to help. Only power and blood mattered on
the battlefield. Finally, Tris tore her tear-filled eyes away from the spectacle
and ran off. Tears trailing behind her, she vanished into the wilderness. A
Cuscull mage who noticed the fleeing girl raised a hand to send a fire arrow
after her.
Meredina's sword bit into the caster and stopped the spell before it
began, however. Protected by a barrier made by Doan and Kav, she slashed
her way through the outer stone steps. As she pressed on through the crowd,
someone threw a ball of light in her face.
"What in the—?!"
Closing one eye reflexively, Meredina slashed blindly with her blade in
an attempt to hack through the spell. Before her sword made contact, the
incoming magical attack simply bounced off the protections that her friends
had placed on her.
"Stop acting like His Majesty. You can't cut through magic with a
normal sword," Doan reminded her, appalled, as he hurled a small lightning
bolt at some Cuscull mages.
"Wasn't it better than doing nothing?" she snapped back.
Meredina came in from the left. With a practiced motion, she severed
the arm of a mage that'd been attempting to protect himself with lightning.
He collapsed to the ground with a shriek, and Meredina continued to move
forward.
From behind, Doan calmly cautioned, "You're going a little too fast.
Slow down."
Meredina shrugged and took two steps back, only to meet the sharp
claws of a lizardman's swipe. A terrible, metallic screech rang out in the
arena. She exchanged three blows with the creature before plunging her
sword into its scaly chest.
Another lizard tried to grab her sword, but a Cezar general cut it down
from behind. Meredina pulled the blade out and nodded at the general, who
gave a casual wave back.
Sword in hand in the middle of the battlefield, Reust looked at the dauntless
Farsasian crew and bit back a sigh.
He had a habit of losing track of time during fights. One moment would
pass in a flash, and the next seemed to lag. It was like wandering endlessly
through a fog with no clear exit.
As he crossed swords with a wave of advancing demons, he looked up at
the witch on the stone platform. Even at this distance, her white dress made
her easy to spot.
She seemed just as beautiful as ever, even as she chanted her spell. Reust
was so caught up in looking at the lovely lines of her face that a small
magic spear grazed his shoulder. When he looked to see who had thrown it,
he saw a very young mage—a boy, really—scowling at him with fear and
hatred.
"Die! Rot in hell, you monster!"
The bitter cry was unmistakably meant for Reust alone.
Tayiri had built up this hatred over the centuries. Seeing it right before
him in the flesh took his breath away.
The boy sketched a rough spell array, then hurled it at Reust. It became a
fireball as it arced through the air, leaving a trail of flames in its wake.
Faced with a literal burning manifestation of anger, Reust choked out, "Is
this the result of Tayiri's sin…?"
It was indeed a terrible thing to deny others the very right to live as
human beings.
Both sides had been born with a twisted resentment of each other.
Had the day come for that to end? Was an end even possible?
Reust closed his eyes, ready to accept what came. Before the fireball
could consume him, it was dispelled. Whirling around, Reust saw a mage of
Farsas who waved him off casually.
"Save the deep thoughts for after this is over, Your Majesty. Right now,
our priority is surviving."
"…Got it," Reust answered curtly, though not without sincerity.
Tamping down the bitterness rooted in his heart, he strode up to the mage
boy. As the little magic user hurried to prepare another spell, Reust drove an
elbow into his stomach. He supported the buckling boy, gently laying him
down on the ground. The time to think would come later; for now, Reust
knew he had to keep his head up high.
He raised his sword, ready to engage his next opponent.
A winged demon swooped down upon the witch with its claws outstretched.
A burst of fire rose to meet it, however. Hurling attacks as they dashed up
the stone stairs, Sylvia and Kumu finally reached the top and rushed over to
Tinasha. Although she was in the middle of her long incantation, she
acknowledged the pair with a smile.
Overcome with joy that Tinasha was still her old self, Sylvia nearly
broke down in tears. "We'll protect you. I promise!" She then began to
chant a spell. "O midday star, o nighttime flower. O thing that cannot be
seen, breathe. Spiral up."
It was a rather elementary spell that induced sleep. However, in the
hands of Sylvia, a court mage, the effect was strengthened to a degree one
could only describe as bizarre. Ordinarily, the spell wouldn't have affected
other magic users very much. That was why the Cuscull mages chose to
ignore it. This complacency proved to be their undoing as one by one they
began to stumble and fall.
Next to her, Kumu took point in front of the witch so that Oscar could
enter the fray. He put up a defensive barrier and listened to the witch's
incantation more closely.
"…A double incantation?!" Kumu yelped in surprise before he could
stop himself, and all the mages around him turned their heads. The shock on
their faces meant that they'd realized it, too.
A double incantation was an old, high-grade magical art that had died
with Tuldarr.
According to the records, by using one incantation to create two spell
configurations, two types of magic could be utilized at the same time.
Doing so unfortunately required more than just the power to cast each spell
individually, making double incantations one of the most advanced magical
arts ever devised. Tinasha's usage of this now meant that she was preparing
to cast something besides her spell to divert the power of the magical lakes.
"And not only that…"
When Kumu realized what the second spell was, he gasped and fell
silent. Pamyra had come up to him, and she finished his sentence. "This
is…from Tuldarr's coronation ceremony…"
As if in response, the witch stretched out her right hand, palm facing
downward.
A white glowing circle of light appeared around her. It rapidly
expanded, stopping at the edge of the stone stairs. Lanak saw it from his
position in the air above the fray, and he seethed with fury.
"Aeti! How much further will you go to mock me?!"
Tinasha offered no answer.
Dozens of white, glowing spell patterns rose up within the great ring. A
huge light erupted from what would've been the one o'clock position had
the spell array been a clock. Soon after, a similar luminous burst appeared at
the two o'clock position, then three, and so on.
Powerful lights glowed in sequence until finally the twelve o'clock
position blazed to life.
Perched from a high vantage point, Doan beheld the incredible display
and muttered, "Could that be Tuldarr's…? Wait, twelve? All of them? She
can't be serious."
Brandishing Akashia against multiple demons, Oscar slashed apart the
torso of a lizardman who leaped at him. He snapped the weapon to shake
blood from its blade, then looked over his shoulder.
He caught sight of the witch and grinned. "Has enough time passed yet?
What are you gonna show us?"
Combatants on both sides chanced glances at the witch. An unbelievable
amount of magic had gathered around her.
This was when she showed what a witch was truly made of. Everyone
could feel in their bones that this was going to be a turning point in history.
Tinasha paused in her chanting and began to issue some sort of decree.
Her voice rang out sonorously across the battlefield.
"Appear, spirits bound to Tuldarr by an ancient contract! My name is
Tinasha As Meyer Ur Aeterna Tuldarr! I am your regent, and by this
proclamation, you are defined… Come to me!"
All was lost to a blinding explosion of white.
A violent torrent of power came rolling in. Sandy winds buffeted those
still standing.
The air changed. A stream of alternating hot and cold winds rushed in.
When the dust settled—Tuldarr's twelve hereditary spirits had appeared.
The beings known as the spirits of Tuldarr were legends spoken of in
magical history. They were high-ranking demons that the first king of
Tuldarr had summoned and bound to the nation. At the time a new regent
was crowned, one to three of them—based on the regent's magical abilities
—would be selected and put to use.
History had taught many that it was impossible for any ruler of Tuldarr
to control multiple high-ranking demons at once.
Tinasha's calling of all twelve seemed akin to lunacy, yet it was
happening before every nonbeliever's eyes.
The high-ranking demons stood above the circle. One of them, a man
with vermilion hair, said in a leisurely tone, "It's been so, so long since I
last made myself known."
"Oh? I hadn't gotten enough sleep yet…," another complained.
"Hey, the country's in ruins."
"Well, anything humans create is fragile."
As the demons started to chat with one other, the humans all around
gaped in shock. Some of the demons looked elderly, while others appeared
as young men and women. One or two even resembled children. Whatever
their appearance, it was clear that none were truly human. Their deep
crimson hair and aloof, intimidating airs betrayed their true natures.
If left to their own devices, they seemed liable to chat among themselves
forever, but a word from the witch shut them up.
"I order…"
At that, all the spirits knelt down. The old, white-haired one at the
twelve o'clock position spoke for its peers with a dignified tone. "Our
master. What is your order?"
"Annihilate the enemies. Leave those who do not show hostility
unharmed. Avoid killing if you can."
"We understand."
Their directive clear, the twelve rose to their feet. A few of them had
their eyes closed, yet others were openly smirking. The vermilion-haired
spirit appeared to be familiar with Tinasha and teased, "You're all grown up
but still such a naive little girl."
"Just do it," Tinasha commanded, waving a hand at them dismissively,
and they scattered.
Instantly, the nearly one hundred demons the Cuscull mages had
summoned all vanished.
The appearance of the spirits was enough to sap any remaining desire to
fight from Lanak's forces. Terrified of such a supernatural power, they
either surrendered or fled the scene.
Now free of opposition, the witch resumed her first incantation. All
anyone could do was watch the huge, intricately woven spell as it grew to
exceed all human limitations.
Just like that, the battle was over. Lanak turned tail and ran through the
ruins of the country he'd destroyed, panting all the while.
Gradually, the tumult grew distant. He tried to teleport away but found
concentration extremely difficult. Whether it was due to exhaustion from
the spell he'd created using Tinasha as a catalyst or more deep-set damage
from his long stasis was anyone's guess. Either way, his body's magic was
in tatters.
Lanak growled, the taste of fresh blood in his mouth. "Aeti…
Aeterna…"
All he did was repeat her name. It was impossible to say now whether
the word was spiked with hatred or something else entirely.
Over and over, Lanak repeated the name, as if calling it was the only
thing still anchoring him in this world. A cloud of sand rolled by and
engulfed the pale man.
Suddenly, Lanak's surroundings grew terribly dark. He looked up to see
a red dragon circling overhead. After catching sight of Lanak, the great
beast started into a descent. A man leaped off its back.
Amid the grit, Lanak spied a double-edged sword that'd been polished
to a mirrorlike sheen. He knew it well; the weapon was the only one of its
kind in all the land.
The man who'd leaped from the dragon was blocking Lanak's way.
Doing his best to remain calm, Lanak called, "Hello. We meet again, I see. I
believe the outcome of our little skirmish is already decided, so what are
you here for?"
"Oh, nothing. I just had something to ask you," Oscar replied,
readjusting his grip on Akashia's hilt. His handsome features were
emotionless, but an angry fire burned in his eyes.
"What could you possibly want from me? If there's anything you want
to know, you should ask Aeterna, not me."
Much like what had transpired in today's battle, Lanak was sure that
Tinasha understood more than he ever had. He was the only one who'd
been clueless.
"Aeti knows everything. Take pity on me. We were both potential rulers
of Tuldarr, but I wasn't powerful enough."
Lanak wished she'd stayed as the little girl he only had to protect. She
was supposed to marry him; that was her role. Unfortunately, her talent and
diligence had brought about a betrayal. If she'd only been weak, none of
this would have happened.
"It is because of her that Tuldarr came to ruin. She's the reason I…"
"You abused her trust," Oscar spat coldly. His words concealed a
frightening threat, and Lanak fell silent.
While the pale man was unsure of many things, he had a powerful hunch
that he was going to die here.
Lanak's long life, a journey bereft of joy, was coming to its end.
With indifference in his tone, Oscar asked another question. "What did
you feel when you cut her open?"
"…Ha."
Lanak's face twisted into something resembling a smile. He only
remembered that it was a lurid, ghastly sight.
He could hear her voice as she screamed and begged him to save her.
Her blood and entrails had gushed up from her little body. The nauseating
stench tickled his nose even now.
Lanak could still feel her innards in his hands, and he glanced down at
his empty palms.
Compassion, jealousy, denial, longing, and hatred.
The names he gave to the lakes were the only feelings Lanak had ever
felt toward her.
She was the woman who controlled his life and whose life he should
have controlled. In truth, he had loved her. She had reached out to him with
such innocence, and he'd only wanted to cherish her.
He simply never had the power to make that happen.
That was why…he'd wanted his power to exceed hers.
"Lanak, stay with me. Don't leave me alone."
"It's all right, Aeti. I'll protect you."
Someday, he'd awaken from that fleeting dream. The illusory vision of
the past that had so consumed Lanak for over four hundred years was now
finally giving way to reality.
…He was sure that she would never look back at him again.
Lanak had been the one who'd perished that terrible night at the altar. In
the throes of his demise, he'd ripped the purest part from his beloved.
The pallid man looked up with a crooked smile on his lips. "I wasn't
thinking about anything. She was just a tool."
Perhaps that's why he didn't need to say her name anymore.
Lanak closed his eyes, shutting out all feeling.
Akashia bore down on him, and in his final moments, Lanak whispered
her name one last time.
A young man selling firewood in the landlocked nation of Cezar was
suddenly struck by an odd sensation. Curious, he looked to the eastern sky.
Legend had it that an evil god and his worshippers had built a village
hidden in the forest along the eastern border. However, if the old tales were
to be believed, magic fell from the sky and destroyed the village four
hundred years ago.
After that, the place where the secluded settlement once stood became
known as something called a magical lake.
As the boy stared toward the horizon, he saw something shine brightly
in the sky and his eyes widened.
At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but the very next
moment, white lights began to fountain up from the forest. Rather leisurely,
they began to make their way up toward the sky.
"…What in the world?"
The sight was a wonder, a mystery, but beautiful to behold.
Such a spectacular phenomenon was enough to inspire faith in forsaken
gods.
A warm, soft breeze swept across the entire region, though there was no
wind.
The luminous motes continued their climbing until they diffused into the
sky, gradually diminishing in number and growing paler. The boy stood
rooted to the ground, entranced by the sight of it all.
At long last, all the floating, meandering globes dissolved into the
clouds and disappeared.
Nothing was left.
For a long time after, the young man gazed dumbly up at the heavens.
The titanic spell configuration, set aloft from the witch's grasp, finished
diverting the energy of the magical lakes and dissolved into the open air
above.
Now that her long incantation was finally over, Tinasha stared out at the
former battlefield with placid eyes.
The stench of blood and charred flesh clung heavily to the breeze. Burnt
and motionless bodies lay facedown. Tinasha carefully partook of the brutal
sight. Cries of agony and death still lingered in her ears, or perhaps the
sound was in her mind.
…It would be very easy to cry.
Tinasha didn't want to, though. Allowing her emotions to rise risked
them overflowing and her losing control. No matter what she felt, Tinasha
knew it didn't change the fact that every death today was her fault—her
burden.
Those who survived were staring at Tinasha with a strange elation. It
was the deep sort of emotion shared by comrades who fought side by side
for a united cause.
There were just as many—particularly those still cowering inside the
barrier Tinasha had formed with the pieces of obsidian—who eyed her
fearfully, however. Pamyra and Renart moved to shield their lady from
those hostile gazes.
They were covered in wounds from head to toe, and Tinasha cast them a
look as if to say, It's all right now.
Her dark eyes landed on Nark, who'd come back. The man who alighted
from the red dragon spotted her and wasted no time in rushing to her side.
Tinasha awaited him in silence.
A general from Gandona stopped Oscar before he could reach the witch.
"As the bearer of Akashia, I trust you know what needs to be done," he
said.
A nervous ripple ran through the crowd. All present knew that Oscar
was tasked with slaying the witch.
Oscar nodded tightly, then strode to Tinasha. He paused before Pamyra
and Renart, who were teeming with animosity. Before either could conjure
up some manner of defense for their lady, the witch talked them down.
"Thank you, both of you. Let him through."
While they were reluctant, they heeded their lady's order and stepped
aside.
Oscar passed between the two and at last came to stand before the witch.
Tinasha was about to call Oscar's name but held the word back.
She knew he had been crowned king of Farsas. That made it all the more
improper for people to know he had any connection to a witch. He was
someone who would walk the path of righteousness and go down in history
as a wise ruler.
Knowing this, Tinasha thought it best that she fade away and become
nothing more than his stepping-stone. She prayed that he would find
happiness in the future to come.
"Please…," she said, the quiet plea unconsciously spilling from her.
Realizing she'd spoken aloud, Tinasha pressed her lips shut tight.
She didn't know what she'd planned to say. All that she'd kept so
repressed had somehow slipped out a little. The lingering heat in her throat
felt good. Tinasha thought it more than she deserved to die while enjoying
that sensation.
The witch took a deep breath, then closed her eyes with a smile.
Diverting the magical lakes had exhausted her own power. It took
everything she had just to stand upright.
If she was to meet the end today, she wanted to greet it on her feet,
however—on her feet and dry-eyed.
The lakes were gone, Lanak was dead, and now she would die.
With her death, the ghosts of Tuldarr would disappear. After four
hundred years, the fate they had altered would at last right its course.
Tinasha tilted her head up a little, almost as if she were expecting a kiss.
She waited for Akashia to run her through.
Oscar reached out toward her face. He brushed her smooth cheeks.
"Do you remember what I said when you broke Lucrezia's spell?"
No answer came.
Very gently, he placed the blade of Akashia against her alabaster neck.
Tinasha's body crumpled into Oscar's arms.
"Aeti, come here."
She could hear a voice coming from very far away. It called her name,
and she opened her eyes.
Tinasha was peering down a stone corridor that seemed to stretch on
forever.
"Come to me, I've missed you."
The voice was coming from somewhere behind her. It belonged to a boy
who Tinasha missed terribly. She smiled. Tinasha recalled how she used to
feel accustomed to solitude but still longed to cling to the warmth of
someone's hands. Something not quite self-derision and not quite loneliness
filled her heart.
"Aeti."
…Names defined people.
The name one was called became their self.
No matter how sweetly the voice in her memories called that name,
Tinasha knew she would never turn back again. Aeti was a child who died a
long, long time ago.
"Good-bye, Lanak."
Eyes focused on what was ahead, Tinasha began to walk forward.
The stone felt cool under her bare feet and told her nothing of the future
that awaited her.
When she awoke, Tinasha realized she had no idea where she was.
In truth, she did know. It was more that she didn't understand. Her brain
felt heavy and slow as she shook her head. Sitting upright in bed, she
blinked blearily at the blue sky that could be glimpsed through the nearby
window.
As she did, the door opened without a sound. Tinasha glanced over and
saw a woman there. "Pamyra…?"
"Lady Tinasha, you're awake!" Pamyra cried, rushing over to kneel
before the bed and take Tinasha's hand. She placed it against her own
forehead, testing its warmth. "You've been asleep for over a week… I was
very worried."
"I'm alive?"
"Of course you are!" Pamyra reproved her, but it still didn't feel real.
Tinasha found she was wearing a nightgown, and she placed her feet on the
floor. She tried to stand, but her body was too weak for her to stay up. She
staggered, and Pamyra supported her.
"Thank you… So why am I in Farsas?"
"A lot of trouble has happened. But right now, you can't be up and
about. Rest some more."
They were in Tinasha's bedroom in Farsas Castle. She had vacated these
quarters, but it all looked the same as when she had left. Tinasha let Pamyra
push her back down and sat on the edge of her bed.
She asked about the other mage. "Where's Renart?"
"The laboratory. Should I call him?"
"No, I just wanted to know he was safe," Tinasha said. She had a feeling
that he was all right if Pamyra was, but it still gave her a sense of relief.
Tinasha took a breath, then looked up at Pamyra, who was checking the
witch's pulse.
"Pamyra, I have a request…"
"What is it?"
"I want to go out of this room… Help me bathe and change my clothes."
Her lady had barely recovered, so Pamyra pulled a face at this demand
but nodded reluctantly.
Bathing proved a little tiring but also felt so wonderful that it swept
aside what had built up inside her. It awakened her consciousness to a
degree and cleared her thoughts. Back in her bedroom, Tinasha used magic
to dry her hair and slipped into the long dress Pamyra brought her.
"It feels like my legs have weakened… I can't walk very well… It might
be easier to fly or teleport to get around."
"You need to rest properly!" Pamyra practically shrieked, and someone
outside the door took that as their cue to enter. The master of the castle
walked in, looking sullen.
"Don't go out if you aren't at your best."
"Oscar…"
He gave her the same warning as Pamyra, who bowed as she passed him
and left the room.
Tinasha used magic to float over and land in front of him. She'd lost a
bit of weight, and he picked her up like he would've done with a child. She
touched his cheek as she asked, "Why am I alive?"
"Right off the bat, huh? If you're feeling that good, I suppose you won't
mind if I grind my fist into your head for a moment."
"That really hurts. Please don't."
Oscar brought her to the bed and sat her down on its edge. Then he
dragged a nearby chair over and took a seat himself. "I never had any
intention of killing you. And it feels gross that you wanted to make me do
so."
"I'm sorry."
"Anyway, I've got tons more things I want to lecture you about. It's
likely to take half the day, so prepare yourself."
"…I'm sorry," Tinasha repeated, hanging her head like a child getting
reprimanded. Oscar reached out and entwined his fingers in her long, silky
black hair. As it was freshly dried, it was still a little warm.
The witch gazed into his eyes. They were a deep blue, and he stared at
her just as seriously as he had before. Belying his harsh words was a look
full of adoration that he lavished on her.
An indescribable sense of nostalgia welled up inside Tinasha when she
saw that. "Can I touch you?" she asked.
"Do what you want."
She floated up into the air and landed on her knees between his legs on
the chair. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed in close.
She had always thought that loneliness was just a natural thing for her.
When she finally found a way out, she plunged in headfirst, but then left
it behind… The month and a half she had been away had felt like forever.
Everyone assumed Tinasha was dangerous, and she'd never thought it
mattered. All she'd cared about was waiting for the right moment to arrive.
Once it did, she believed she'd finally be able to pay back all the people she
hadn't been able to save. To that end, she did her best not to pay any
attention to what others thought, even if it wore away at her.
That was why Tinasha had held it all in—everything she wanted to cry
out. No matter how the irritation and self-hatred tore at her, she never let it
rise to the surface. Even when that sludge of emotion burned her up from
the inside and she thought she would go mad, she still told herself she
didn't have the right to express those feelings.
It was much the same as her childhood spent living all alone in a
detached wing of a castle.
No one was with her. She blamed herself for everything. That had long
since become her reality.
Acceptance should have settled in, yet Tinasha had always found herself
strangely…lonely.
"You brought me back."
"Of course I did."
Tinasha buried her face in Oscar's shoulder. He was just as steady and
warm as when she'd left.
Something began to rise up within her, tempting her to open up, but the
witch didn't know what to say. There was just a comforting heat in her
chest. It was so tranquil she felt ready to fall asleep in Oscar's arms.
Tinasha smiled, her wet eyelashes trembling. "A lot…happened. In the
past and now."
"Mm-hmm."
"But I…"
After getting that far, Tinasha found herself unable to continue. She was
positive that Oscar already knew anyway.
She breathed heavily, and as Oscar stroked her hair, he muttered, "Oh
right… You're my fiancée now."
"Why?!"
"If I didn't say you were, I couldn't have brought you back with me. It
was bad enough that someone told me to kill you, but your huge display of
power earned you a whole list of suitors."
"You need to respect my opinion!"
"You're already here; just do your best for the remaining half of the
year," Oscar instructed—as high-handed as ever.
Tinasha pulled back to heave a huge, exaggerated sigh, but she couldn't
stop her face from breaking into a grin. She looked up at him from under
her long lashes. "As you wish, then, O contract holder."
Oscar nodded solemnly, and she gave him an angelic smile. Then she
hugged him again, whispering "Thank you" in his ear.
After the battle at the ruins, Oscar immediately sat down with all the highranking members of each country.
"All right, let's jump right in and start our discussion of what to do postbattle. The plan is to cover everything we can, including how to handle
that," declared the king of Farsas, an irrepressible air of authority belying
his calm demeanor. The representatives of the other countries, Reust
included, picked up on the inherent threat in his words and gulped.
The conference, held at Tayiri Castle soon after the group returned, was
on a timer. The witch, depleted of her power and cuffed with the Farsas
sealing bracelet, was put to sleep in a separate room. If they didn't decide
how to handle her before she woke up, none could say how things would
play out.
Everyone understood that going into this discussion, though things
began under a veneer of calm. Focusing mainly on Reust, the group made
arrangements regarding compensation for the troops Tayiri sent out and the
Cuscull mages taken as prisoners of war. When talk finally turned to what
to do with the witch, a general of Cezar—one of the Four Great Nations—
readily volunteered as the first to speak.
"About the witch… Whatever her reasons, she sided with Cuscull and
she's incredibly guilty. There can be no better time to end the threat she
poses than this very moment… There would be one less threat to our land."
Among the five witches who were the symbols of their era, Tinasha was
undoubtedly the strongest.
The battle with Lanak had laid bare the extent of her power. On top of
that, she now controlled twelve high-ranking demons. She was not someone
they could just ignore.
The representative of Gandona, another Great Nation, agreed. A silence
of implicit consensus fell over the room.
Oscar surveyed the group, then rested his folded hands on the table.
"There's still room for discussion as to whether she's guilty. We were able
to confirm that all the people who vanished from cities and towns in Farsas
were restored unharmed before the battle."
"…What?"
"It seems likely that she used a kind of invisibility magic to merely hide
them. I'd like to know if this is the same for those cities that were 'attacked'
in other countries," Oscar said, though he knew what the answer would be.
Confusion broke out among those at the table.
The only one present who was not shocked to hear that was Reust. He
lifted a feeble hand to reply, "Tayiri has also confirmed what happened in
our cities. It's true—there were no victims wherever she was involved. I
can't say the same for the very first town that burned to the ground, but…
it's possible that she learned from that incident and intervened within
Cuscull to reduce future damage."
Tinasha had volunteered for a dirty job to make sure no one else came to
harm.
Those gathered in that very conference had seen with their own eyes
what Tinasha's true goal had been.
The queen of a ruined country. The witch who lived for those that had
been lost.
Oscar and the others carried the weight of their respective countries on
their backs. They all felt deeply moved despite themselves by the awfully
clumsy, sincere beauty of that woman.
The third prince of Gandona piped up nervously. "She's the successor to
Tuldarr, isn't she? Doesn't that mean she has magical knowledge that's
been otherwise lost for centuries? I think it overly hasty to execute her
while she's unconscious…"
"But we won't be able to stop her once she's awake. She's a witch,"
snapped the general of Cezar warningly, a sour look on his face.
Oscar cut in quickly. "If she's with me, I can stop her. She's very
reasonable as far as witches go. And I'm sure I don't need to explain why
Farsas is the most suited to take charge of her."
"…Akashia."
The royal sword of Farsas was the one weapon that could kill a witch.
Right now, a sealing bracelet, made of the same material as Akashia,
held Tinasha in check. At present, she wasn't a threat. The king of Farsas
was the only person in the land with items that could so disarm a witch at
his disposal.
Rather hesitantly, the Gandona general protested, "But wouldn't that
mean that Farsas has a monopoly on the witch's power? If she's as
reasonable as you say, I should think many countries would want to borrow
her power."
"If all you had to do was ask her for a favor, she wouldn't have been
living in a tower. As long as we don't do anything, she's completely
harmless—just floating around reading books all day long. But make one
wrong move and she'll reject you. The envoy from Cuscull made that
mistake, and she turned down his invitation."
"She refused an envoy from Cuscull? How do you know about that?"
"Because I was originally the one who brought her down from her
tower," Oscar admitted. Reust's eyes widened.
The others reacted in much the same way. Everyone looked like they
wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Slowly, Oscar looked
at each member of the conference in turn. Sitting up perfectly straight in his
chair, he said, "I'm sure she had her reasons for her part in the Cuscull
incident, but ultimately the fault is with my negligence. I apologize for that
and vow that nothing like this will happen again."
His low, resonant voice sent a ripple through the council. The
representatives from the other major nations exchanged glances, unsure of
how to respond to what the king of Farsas said. Though he was making his
own position highly precarious, Oscar went on matter-of-factly, "Bearing
that in mind, I intend to answer your concerns to your complete satisfaction.
Ask away."
Oscar ceded some ground in the debate, but his unwavering intent was
still clear in his attitude. Doubt plain in his tone, the Cezar general inquired,
"I'm sorry, but why are you going to so much trouble for her?"
The witch was a living cataclysm, an abominable oddity. Why was he, a
royal, taking steps to protect her? It was a perfectly natural question, and
Oscar smirked. "That's easy. It's because she's going to be my wife."
"What…?"
Palpable waves of varying degrees of shock ran through the room as
everyone's heads swiveled to look at Oscar.
The young king of Farsas just gave the largely uncomprehending group
a light smile. He finally picked up the cup of tea in front of him and took a
sip.
By the end of the day, the decision was made; the witch would stay with
Oscar.
"I just know he did something rash so he could take me in… Hmm, is it
really all right…?" Tinasha fretted between mouthfuls of soup in bed.
"I wouldn't worry about that part. He was kind enough to allow Renart
and me to stay with you, too," Pamyra said with a tight smile.
It certainly hadn't been easy—Oscar had been left with no choice but to
force his opinion on certain points—but he'd succeeded in convincing the
other representatives to withdraw their concerns about the witch. Upon
hearing that, Tinasha decided she needed to be on her best behavior
whenever she left Farsas.
Pamyra went on to explain one other thing she knew her lady was
wondering. "Tayiri initially held the Cuscull mages who surrendered, but
later they were allowed to return home. Prince Reust has declared that
Tayiri recognizes Cuscull as a self-governing, inviolate dominion for
mages."
"…Wow, that's unexpected."
"It appears he's taken your sermons to heart. Inspired by recent events, a
number of Tayiri people have begun speaking out about the persecution of
mages. Several members of the Tayiri elite had children born with magic
who were killed by the state, after all."
"Ah… I see now. That would help things along."
The death toll for Tayiri ultimately comprised those killed in that first
village that was razed and the soldiers who fell during the battle on the
Asdra Plains. Both were tragedies but may have marked the end to
something even bigger. Only the passage of time would say for sure.
Tinasha felt faintly for her part in the recent changes. Returning her
empty bowl to Pamyra, she broached the subject of one final person she
was worried about. "Do you know what happened to Tris?"
"I don't know where she is now, but…I'm sure she's doing fine
wherever she is. I just know it."
"Oh…"
It seemed Tinasha hadn't succeeded in saving everyone.
For all her power, such a feat was impossible. Just like turning back time
or returning the dead to life, there were some things she could do nothing
about.
Even if she had the ability, it was unfeasible to expect a single person to
help everyone. That was why Tinasha had decided a long time ago that she
wouldn't get involved. Her decision to exist as a witch was a choice to live
for those who had passed, not the living.
Even so, she couldn't help but mourn. Whether that amounted to
hypocrisy or self-gratification, she was still free to do it.
Tinasha gazed up at the canopy of her bed and sighed.
Everything she had been working toward was over now. There was
nothing left she wanted to do. If she died the next day, she wouldn't have
found it objectionable… Her contract with Oscar still remained, however.
Tinasha decided to live for just a while longer. She would live for the
man who hadn't killed her.
When she thought about it that way…she did feel a little glad to be
alive.