The bedroom had not changed. She was alone. No assassin trying to shove a blade through her heart. Maybe that was a good thing... restlessly, she limped to the bed. Pain throbbed through the leg, but she only noticed it distantly and instead focused on the shadows—no Assassins hiding in it. Ridiculous; she knew it herself. But she had to check.
Kurumi was with the figures... probably. The wait seemed like a long, agonizing eternity. Did Kurumi even want her outside? If only she could fight as well as Kayneth, nothing would have happened today.
"Shit!" Her fist smashed into the pillow, and the bed collapsed under the force. Surprised, she stared at both hands. Faint lines of magic still ran across the skin. Reinforcing Magecraft, why did she only realize it now?
She stopped the mana flow, stumbled, and had to lean on a bedside cabinet. Everything spun... Lights flickered out of focus. A painful heat cursed the leg. If only she hadn't insisted on going back to the hotel. If only she wasn't so useless.
It rumbled. Kurumi stepped out of a portal, brushing the dress. Splinters and dirt rained to the ground. "Damn, stubborn and unconscious, they are so hard to talk to."
With a flick, the dirt disappeared. Kurumi slipped off her shoes and placed the gun on the nightstand. With each step, runes crackled. Then Laila sensed heavy eyes on her skin.
It felt strange when internal time was turned back. It just happened without warning. Breathing seemed impossible. The pent-up exhaustion ran backward. The burning lungs disappeared and then returned.
Silence spread through her mind before she had to relive the pain a second time. Her body writhed. Splintered bones slowly arranged themselves, sliding through flesh and blood. Her hands clutched the pillow as she screamed. She preferred the quick break. Not this torture.
"We'll... never do that again," Laila whispered, drenched in sweat. "Never again..."
"Then don't fall from the second floor next time." Laila snorted; she had jumped from the second floor! Not fallen. It shouldn't have been a problem with reinforcement magecraft, but Kurumi continued before she could form a reply. "Write the letter as soon as possible." She was probably right, Laila thought, rubbing her hands and looking at the floor.
"If you tell me now that it was all for nothing, you'll sleep on the street tonight."
"... The phoenix paper is missing," Laila said hesitantly. But Kurumi's silent gaze pressed for an explanation.
"You normally order it directly from the clock tower. I have some, but it's not designed for international jumps."
"Why does everything always have to be so complicated?" Kurumi asked, beaten. "I'll search the hotel again."
"A waste of time. The plants have already decomposed everything." Alchemy wasn't her specialty, but she should be able to manage that, she thought. "Another question, how quickly can we get a 10-litre pot and a fire?"
***
A friendly low-spark smoke lingered in the air. Kurumi could smell it. The gray pillar merged with the dark, clouded sea. Fortunately, she thought. At least it kept the camp hidden. Not an hour after leaving the hotel, she let Laila out at the river with a large pot she intended to use for brewing.
A clone stayed behind as a guard while Kurumi combed through the forest. How likely was it to encounter a servant out here? She couldn't say for sure, but she wanted to avoid it if possible. After all, fate was not merciful twice.
'Assassin landed a surprise attack,' Kurumi scolded herself. This should have never happened! Hopefully, they would be more talkative after a night in the damp cold; otherwise, looking into their past became her only option to get more information.
The forest stretched bare in all directions. As far as the eye could see, there were fallen trunks or huge branches. Snow covered frozen leaves and cracked under her feet. The frozen landscape glistened as if something had breathed life into it.
The wind howled, but nothing significant caught her eye. She leaped effortlessly through the trees, occasionally landing on the highest peaks. There was no movement; even animal tracks were frozen solid in the ground. Some looked strange, like spikes. The amount frightened her, but she could not find where they led. They all seemed to disappear as suddenly as they appeared.
When she found nothing conspicuous, Kurumi decided to head back. No one was out here; she was sure this time. And yet, a faint feeling of uncertainty did not disappear. Something could be lying in wait even now without her realizing it.
The fire shimmered. A clone stacked branches next to the flames before disappearing to get supplies.
Laila sat on a fallen log. A gilded pen between her fingers danced across the pot, leaving a multitude of runes and sigils in various shapes. However, the symbols did not appear randomly chosen. She paused only twice to look them up in a book.
Like a conductor's baton, the tip flowed over the metal, leaving a line that followed the curves of a wave. It looked almost mystical. Laila's perception was solely on the pen as she floated deep in a trance. Faint images of a dream flickered in her eyes. Everything seemed so familiar. A peace that Kurumi had almost forgotten.
***
"Magecraft again? All I ever have to do is make stupid rocks shake," Laila grumbled.
"I suppose practicing alone in your room every day quickly takes the fun out of it," her grandfather replied. He bent over an old, rusty grill. The paper in his hand glowed as the rune ignited the dry leaves. He blew carefully several times until a proud flame blazed in the shadows of the night.
"Can't we go to the playground for a bit?"
"You can barely see, and haven't eaten anything yet."
"I'm not hungry," Laila whispered.
"Oh, you're not hungry? Mhhh," he hummed and suddenly tickled her tummy. "I can hear you grumbling all the way here," and handed her some sweets.
"But don't tell your mom."
"Grandpa, what are we brewing on the grill?" Suddenly, he laughed. For a brief moment, his face looked sad, but maybe she had just imagined it.
"Do you want to brew something?" he asked. Laila shook her head. "Then we were lucky I forgot your mother's pot." The moon conquered the sky.
Glowing coals slept snuggled together while a soft aroma rose from the grill. "... It's been a long time since I last saw a spirit. They are beautiful and float through the air like fireflies."
"Grandpa," exclaimed Laila excitedly, "everyone knows there are no ghosts."
"Oh, is that so? Then I'll have to bring one next time," he grins. Something in his hand glittered. A spark jumped into the sky
Laila's gaze wandered through the illuminated trees. In a knothole, she recognized a family of owls watching the rising shooting star. Cloud-like lights rained down like gentle snowflakes. She stretched out her hands to reach for them. Never had she seen anything like it before; she just had to find out what it was.
It seemed the stars rained from the sky. Tiny lights, and yet they felt alive. She hid it protectively behind both hands, afraid the wind would snatch it.
Laila wondered what fascinated her about this spectacle. The surrounding moisture sparkled. You could have thought it was breathing. She had never believed that Magecraft could be so beautiful and didn't notice the rising curiosity.
"Ohh..." she whispered as the night swallowed the light. "I'm sure mom would like that too."
"Here for you." Laila blinked a few times. Her grandfather held a plate of sliced sausage, bread, and other things.
"Magecraft shouldn't rule your life. Unfortunately, many Magi families forget that."
"Mhh?" she grunted. "Grandpa, can I have one of those fireworks?"
Her grandfather grinned, put the plate aside, and disappeared into the tent again. Mosquitoes buzzed. Her skin itched, but curiosity grew too great. Shortly afterward, he returned and put a jacket over Laila's shoulders.
The spark leaped powerfully from the rune between her fingers. Gray lights illuminated the night. Laila couldn't tell what it was. But something was missing. The spectacle seemed larger, yet colorless, as if her grandfather had done something different. A bang echoed like the slap of a hand.
"You don't have to use so much mana. Your intention counts, not the form, and of course, a lot of practice."
A loud howl came from the trees. The shadow of an owl circled the fire. The wind hissed. Then loud wings came closer. Startled, Laila protected her face
"I'm sorry if we scared you," spoke her grandfather and straightened up. The owl turned in flight and soared upwards. "My granddaughter is still a little inexperienced. Please forgive her."
The owl screeched and then disappeared back into the tree.
"Stupid bird. I haven't done anything."
"Next time, she'll watch you too."
"But why did she attack me? Doesn't she like me?"
"Animals are sensitive. Look," he said, pointing to the dark hole. Laila narrowed her eyes. She only dimly recognized how the owl ran its beak through the feathers of her two small children.
"You just scared her. The three only live in a small, narrow tree trunk, yet they are the happiest family in the world right now."
"No! They're not happier than us."
Her grandfather laughed. "Well, of course, you're right."
Laila leaned her head on her shoulder. It had never felt so peaceful. It was fresh and so indescribably calm. Suddenly, a small owl jumped out of the nest and landed on a remote branch. The big owl's eyes gleamed, and she immediately jumped after it to encourage her other child.
"Look," her grandfather whispered. "They are leaving the nest soon."
"Oh..."
"What is wrong?"
"I broke it..." The ink lines on the rune were burned through like a pipe. The edges wilted slightly brown.
"Throw it in the embers. I've got plenty left." Laila yawned. She snuggled deeper into the jacket lining. Suddenly, her eyes felt so heavy. 'If only everyone could see Grandpa's magic.'