Prologue
"ALEA JACTA EST"
"Ottar. The boy has gotten stronger."
"Is that desirable, ma'am?"
"Why, yes."
The room was dark. The weak light of dusk filtered in from outside the
window.
The corners of Freya's lips curled upward in the flickering light from a single
magic-stone lamp sitting on a table.
This was the top floor of Babel Tower, built directly above the Dungeon
itself.
There were few furnishings in the room. While that might not have seemed
suitable for the highest-class suite in the tower, each individual piece of furniture
was beyond lavish. Likewise, every item was placed perfectly within the space
to complement everything else.
The décor included a massive bookcase, a bed so big that a normal mind
could never have thought of it, and a stylish, dark red carpet. Framing the
interior were large murals of the sun and moon.
There, the silver-haired goddess Freya held a wineglass in her hand as she
enjoyed a conversation with one of her followers.
"I misjudged him. This isn't simply about status. Just by obtaining magic, the
boy's soul now shines even brighter…To my eyes, it looks as if he has been
polished."
She held her wineglass up in the cold moonbeam, gazing at the light as it
reflected off the lazily sloshing liquid.
The young white wine was crystal clear with no depth. And no flavor either,
of course.
But Freya smiled with her silver eyes as she brought the glass to her lips,
almost as though she considered that pale color itself to be prized above all else.
"His soul's growth…is it so remarkable?"
"Perhaps so. I wonder," she replied to the stone-faced Ottar as he stood
quietly in the corner of the room.
He stood at attention, his eyes on his goddess.
Her silver eyes meeting his rust-colored gaze, Freya slowly and deliberately
lowered her eyelids.
"However, there is something…just one thing keeping him from shining
through. It's holding him back, like shackles on his soul."
"..."
"Yes, he has enough spirit to shine. Be that as it may, he lacks a strong core.
No, he has a good core, but it looks clouded to me…as though something is
missing, or blocking it.
"Any ideas, Ottar?" asked Freya over her shoulder, seeking his opinion, as
though needing the perspective of another male.
The male animal person, built like a boulder, opened his lips to answer his
mistress.
"Perhaps his attachments."
"His attachments… ?"
"Yes, it is as you have said, Mistress Freya: the boy's attachments, his
connection with the Minotaur…He may not even be aware of it himself, but
some part of his past has become a thorn, constantly tormenting him from
within."
Ottar knew of Bell's encounter with a Minotaur in the dungeon. While Freya
herself didn't exactly hear the story from Bell's mouth, she had gotten enough
information to put the story together.
It wasn't much more than a guess, but she was fairly certain that Bell, with
that weak body of his, had indeed lost to a Minotaur.
Freya ran a curled finger down the side of her cheek, down to her chin.
"He has some trauma, then…The children really are delicate. We may have a
few attachments, but gods are not held back by the past. Very interesting…On
the other hand, perhaps you see us as merely whimsical?"
"Don't be absurd."
"If you'd humor me every once in a while, I wouldn't be so bored…"
Ottar's face remained unchanged. "Ah, well…" Freya muttered to herself as
she cast her gaze back out the window and onto Bell.
"So tell me, what can we do to free him from these restraints?"
Freya narrowed her eyes as she glanced back at her servant and challenged
him with the question.
"A person can only break free from the chains of their past by their own
hands. There is no other way."
The ever-stoic Ottar responded directly to his goddess's question.
"…Is that from personal experience?"
"I believe that men are doomed to repeat their own mistakes."
Freya laughed quietly to herself before breaking eye contact.
A cause for concern had just come to light. Freya's good mood carried her
deep into thought.
If the shadow of this Minotaur monster is the cause, then the answer is
simple: I don't have to do anything, save wait. That boy will grow stronger still
and climb over that wall…
With enough time, Bell would become strong enough to defeat a Minotaur.
All he had to do was escape from the past that still had him by the tail. There
was no problem to solve.
And the moment he slays the Minotaur, he will shine brighter than ever
before…
Once that happened, he would appear before her like a flower in full bloom;
one radiant enough to make her fall for him all over again.
She couldn't wait, she admitted to herself. Bell was at the center of her
universe now; he had become more appealing to Freya than anything else.
She wanted him, very much.
She wanted him to always be close enough to reach out and touch.
Once her thoughts came to his point, Freya asked Ottar another question.
"Ottar."
"What is it, ma'am?"
"Do you not feel anything? I am becoming entranced with that boy, ignoring
all of you already in my Familia."
Ottar's face remained unchanged as Freya continued.
"What would you do if that boy becomes stronger than you?"
"..."
"I might treasure him more than you. That place you are standing now might
become his."
"As your heart desires, Mistress Freya."
"You wouldn't be jealous?"
Ottar responded with utmost sincerity and trust, without betraying any
emotion as he spoke.
"Your love is fair to all. While some may be special, no one is above the rest."
"..."
"Even if you were to dismiss me from this post, I wholeheartedly believe that
your love for me will not disappear."
Silver eyes locked with rusty ones.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Ottar bent his gargantuan body
forward and silently lowered his head.
"I have said too much."
"I don't mind. In fact, quite the opposite. You have become dearer to me."
"Your words bring me great joy."
They casually traded words as though they were so many blows.
Freya let out a conniving laugh as she spun her beautiful voice into her
response.
"But it's a shame. You're always so rigid. I would've loved to see you green
with envy."
"If that is what you desire."
"…Ha. Hee-hee! Ha-ha-ha! Would you please, Ottar? Please don't make me
laugh! If I saw your serious face burn with jealousy, I don't think I could contain
myself."
"..."
Freya laughed, seemingly finding the notion truly amusing. She placed the
palm of one hand over her mouth and hugged her waist with the other, as though
she were a young girl trying to contain herself.
As for Ottar, seeing his goddess like this finally got a reaction out of him, a
small twitch of an ear. One of the catlike ears on the top of his head suddenly
pointed in a strange direction.
Once Freya had gotten her fill of laughter, she wiped her eyes and turned to
face her very embarrassed subordinate to change the subject.
"So Ottar, what do you think?"
"…How do you mean?"
"About the boy. Am I worried over nothing?"
Ottar immediately repaired his posture.
"He will soon become powerful enough to resist me. Powerful enough to
break free from these 'attachments' you spoke of."
"..."
"But, part of me is worried if that is well enough. I can't explain it in words…
Eventually, it's just a matter of time, before I know it…All of those phrases keep
going through my head, and I feel, somehow, timid. I know it's not true, but I
feel like I'm in the wrong." Freya whispered under her breath, "Perhaps I'm
overthinking it."
It was all she could do to muse, vaguely, that nothing was wrong, and that she
had done nothing wrong.
There were no particularly strong grounds for this. But Freya had watched
many talented children grow in her Familia, and all of them had grown strong
given enough time. Surely this boy would follow the same pattern.
At this moment, Ottar squinted his eyes for the first time.
"Ottar, do you think time will solve this problem, too?"
"Yes, indisputably. Given enough time, it will happen. It's just…"
Ottar let his words hang for a moment before speaking with full confidence.
"Those who do not go on adventures will never break out of their shell. That
is a fact."
He fell silent.
His true feelings had been revealed.
Somewhere else in Orario, there was a half-elf with the opposite opinion.
These, though, were the words of a man who had survived many close calls—
a mature adult who had been forged in the flames of battle. He clearly stated that
those who don't go on adventures would never rise past a certain level.
Ottar had pointed out the possibilities of an unknown that even Freya couldn't
see.
Indeed, it wasn't Freya, but Ottar who saw what the boy could become.
"…I leave his development in your hands, Ottar."
The Goddess of Beauty set the glass of white wine down.
Closing both eyes, it was as if she had turned her back on him.
It was only then that Ottar couldn't hide a hint of suspicion on his face.
"…And what caused this change in the wind?"
"It's it obvious? You now understand the boy better than I do."
Freya's head was down, her voice sounding like that of a pouting child.
She then raised her head, laughing in a very glamorous fashion.
"Enough to make me jealous."