August Ignitia’s Journal

Start of April, 1877 H.C.E. (Holy Crown Era)

One dragon hatched. The other two won’t stir, and I heard the adults say it is a bad omen.

I wanted to disappear, so I hid in the secret room.

Do you think angels really exist?

☆

August could hear Louie and the others calling his name. He ignored them and ran further and further into the Grand Cathedral. Whenever he wanted to be alone, he would always find himself here. There were plenty of places for him to hide.

It was a blessed day. His eggs hadn’t stirred for many years, but finally, one had hatched. While this would usually be cause for celebration, tensions were high, as none of his riding dragons showed any sign of hatching. What was a dragoon king without a dragon to ride?

Unable to bear this atmosphere, young August had run away. He’d set his sights on the room that housed the painting of the One True God. Someone had once told him about the hidden stairs that lay beneath it.

That man had been his quiet, much older cousin. He had always been the only person who could find August when the boy was hiding in the Grand Cathedral.

“In the deepest chamber, if you push the carvings on the pillars in the order of lion, ox, man, and eagle, the floor will open right beneath God. You should hide there if you really don’t want to run into anyone.”

That’s what he had told August before he’d returned to the Academy of Magic in Lindis.

I’m sure he had quite a few days when he didn’t want to meet anyone himself, August thought as he reflected on his cousin.

The man had been adopted into another family. The convoluted story of his birth had made it so that his very existence had never been made public. August’s other cousin, Louie, didn’t even know they were related. The man had apparently found the stairs when he was searching for the Beast of Contracts. If miracles were real, he’d said, he had a wish he wanted granted.

Unfortunately, he had been unable to open the door at the bottom of the stairs. He hadn’t managed to enter the room where the Beast of Contracts slumbered.

But maybe you can pull it off, he’d told August.

August made sure no one noticed him as he snuck through the winding corridors. Finally, he reached the deepest room. When he did just as his cousin had instructed, the floor beneath the mural shifted right before his eyes, revealing a set of stairs to a lower level. He locked the door from the inside before he started down the spiral staircase.

He leaned his back against the lone door at the very bottom, sitting and hugging his knees. These were the depths of the earth, yet it felt somewhat warm and gave off the soft scent of a sunny day. As he closed his eyes, many people’s faces crossed his mind.

The strained expressions of his father and mother as they’d tried to console him. The flicker of anxiety that had crossed Louie’s face before he’d plastered on an awkward smile. August hardly knew Louie’s stepbrother, Charles, yet that man prayed for him even more than Louie did.

Louie had told him he could always ride his dragons if the eggs never hatched. Despite knowing his proposal came of kindness and not malice, August had still turned it down.

August could have endured if all he had to deal with was the disappointment and distrust from strangers. However, he couldn’t bear the kindness of those close to him, nor could he stand his own cynicism as he rejected their goodwill.

A drop hit August’s hand. At some point, he had begun to cry. If he stayed here, at the depths of the earth, would he be able to live without hurting or being hurt?

I’ll cry on my own for a bit, and when the tears run out, I’ll climb back up.

He cried until he was worn thin, and he had cried himself asleep.

Around an hour passed. In his dreamy state of mind, he heard a song. What a gentle voice, he thought. It was a song that carried a sense of nostalgia and a hint of sorrow.

Before he knew it, someone was in front of him, singing a tune as they stroked his cheek.

“Mother?” August asked, his mind still in a haze.

“No. I am not your mother.”

August lifted his face. As his mind rapidly kicked into gear, he recalled that he had come to a place no one else should’ve been able to enter.

The one he saw was a blonde woman wearing a red dress in the style of the southern continent. He was only meeting her for the first time, yet he was overcome with the feeling he’d known her for a long time now.

“Good morning, pretty-faced little one.”

“Who are you?”

“Mmheehee, who could I be? At the very least, I’ve never been a mother before.”

August could feel his face heat up. The woman’s skin was quite tan, completely different from his mother’s fair shade. Even her voice was nowhere close. How could he have made such a mistake? He was growing increasingly embarrassed.

“You may call me Palug.”

“I’m... August.”

Ignoring the hand the woman called Palug held out for him, August sullenly rubbed the remnants of tears away with his sleeve.

“That’s not your real name. That name belongs to Cath Palug, the cat the Founding King kept.”

“Oh dear, you know your stuff. That was a long time ago.” Palug chuckled—a low, rumbling, throaty laugh.

“Everyone in this country knows that. They say it could understand human tongue, walked on two legs, and wore boots, among other things. It’s in all sorts of fairy tales.” August glanced down at Palug’s legs. She was barefoot. “If you want to call yourself Palug, shouldn’t you at least get that much right?”

“How many centuries do you think it’s been since I got those boots? They wore out a long time ago.”

Come to think of it, she had a point. Even if the real Cath Palug was here, who was to say it would still wear boots?

“More importantly, why are you down here? No one’s supposed to be able to enter.”

“I can go anywhere on this island. I’ll always be by the side of a crying child. Protecting children is a part of my job, after all.”

“It’s not like you’re the cat-eyed saint. Stop messing with me.”

On Ynys Negesydd, where August lived, there was a legend of a saint who protected children. To share in the fortune promised by the tale, even now, the stores sold charms made of a gemstone called cat’s eye.

“Right. Maybe ‘everywhere’ was an exaggeration. There might be a few places I can’t go.”

“You called yourself Palug a moment ago, but now you’re pretending to be the saint?”

“A woman has many faces, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

When she replied so triumphantly, how was August expected not to laugh?

“There, you finally smiled. You’re so much cuter when you’re smiling.”

“Shut up. You’re not supposed to call a boy cute.”

After talking to Palug, August realized his heart felt quite a bit lighter. It was so much easier talking to people who didn’t know who he was. Once she learned he was royalty, surely Palug wouldn’t interact with him so casually.

“What about you, August? What brings you down here?”

“I wanted to get away from people, so I came somewhere I thought no one else could go. I must have been mistaken.”

“Hmm. I’m not a person, per se, so you should be fine around me.”

“What’s with that logic? Oh, right... I also heard the Beast of Contracts might be around here,” August said, recalling his cousin’s words.

“My, you came all the way here to see me? I’ve been getting so few visitors these days. It’s been so lonely.”

“I won’t let you mock the Beast of Contracts. I’m sure you’ve never even heard of it before!” All of a sudden, August flew into a rage, taking Palug by surprise. “The Beast of Contracts is the strongest phantasmic beast I know of. It’s a monster that rivals God himself, granting true miracles to whoever can overcome its trials. I’ll have you know, if the legends are to be believed, Ignitia only exists thanks to the Beast of Contracts. Had the beast never helped out my ancestors, I probably wouldn’t exist. I won’t forgive anyone who speaks ill of it.”

After blinking a few times, Palug grinned wide.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Mmheehee. I never thought I’d meet someone who treasured the Beast of Contracts to such a degree. It’s a little reassuring.”

“Good grief, you really are a strange one.”

His venom had been drained, and before he knew it, August couldn’t even find it within himself to be angry.

“Did you have a wish for the Beast of Contracts? You don’t look like you’re in need of wealth or youth.”

“I don’t need that. All I want is the future everyone dear to me longs for. If I can make that happen, I wouldn’t even regret failing the trial and being devoured.”

“How admirable. Sorry to say, but we’re fresh out of miracles here.”

“Haha. So, even miracles can run out of stock?”

“Yes, that’s right. Thus, you don’t have to be a sacrifice for anyone else. I’m sure those people you hold dear would be sad if they lost you.”

Her words were kind and warm, and far too convenient to be true. Just how much better off would he be if that really were the case? August hung his head for a while.

“Even so, I was sure entities like me had been completely forgotten, but there are still strange people like you. I guess living a long life has its perks.”

“It’s not just me. The other people of this country haven’t forgotten either. They’ve believed for centuries. In God, in angels, in saints, in the Beast of Contracts. We remember all the entities who’ve offered us salvation.”

As August spoke, he found it hard to determine whether the face Palug made was happy or sad.

“I’m not even the only one who knows about this place. I heard about it from my cousin. I’m sure he’s seriously searching for the Beast of Contracts. Hey, if a new miracle comes in, and you only get one of them, you should give it to him instead of me. I don’t know why, but he always looks even more cornered than I do.”

“By cousin, do you mean the one with the black hair and glasses?”

“You know him?”

“I’ve seen him before. But he couldn’t see me. That man probably only came here to prove that miracles don’t exist.”

Why had he looked that way to Palug? August hadn’t the slightest idea, but he did recall the dark and grim expression that had occasionally crossed his cousin’s modest face.

“Perhaps that means he doesn’t really need a miracle?”

“That’s right. I can tell. I mean, that’s the way God made me,” Palug answered, sounding somewhat proud of herself.

August had been looking for an actual answer, and that was enough to make him lose the motivation to pursue the matter of his cousin any further.

“Good grief... Who are you, really?”

“Let’s see. I was once called the greatest of angels.”

He sneered at that response. “You should’ve started out with that. Then, perhaps, I’d have let myself be deceived.”

“Oh my, what a mistake. If we ever meet again, I’ll say it from the start.”

The faint sound of the evening bell reached his ears.

“It’s already this late?”

“Come again if you want. You can always find me here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe, if I get the chance.” He gave a half-baked reply before turning his back to her.

No one would normally be able to enter the deepest chamber of the Grand Cathedral. Only high-ranking pastors and royalty were free to come and go. Otherwise, one really would have to be an angel, a saint, or a legendary beast to get in.

Come to think of it, where exactly did Palug enter from? The question suddenly occurred to him. Don’t tell me she really is an angel?

He heard the sound of a heavy stone door opening. A soft, orange light streamed out from behind him. By the time he turned around, the door to the sealed room was already firmly shut, and Palug was nowhere to be seen.

☆

Some Day in May, 1877 H.C.E.

I asked her about angels. Apparently, once you know who they truly are, the angel’s an angel no longer. I asked her why that was, but she didn’t know. Even if you see the angel, she says you should pretend not to notice.

What’s her problem? She’s the one who called herself an angel before.

She’s hopeless, so I’ll play along with her farce.

If only I had someone who would pretend they didn’t know who I was.

Some Time in January, 1878 H.C.E.

Is there any point in the existence of a dragoon who can’t ride a dragon through the sky?

She replied, “Is there any point in the existence of an angel who can’t hear out wishes?”

Answering a question with a question is just unfair.

Lately, I hang out in the Grand Cathedral whenever anything bad happens.

Once Upon a Time in June, 1880 H.C.E.

I saw a small light. A little alchemist who says she came from the west.

When I asked her, she assured me this is love. But summing up this feeling with that one word seems a little wrong. Will that star on the horizon ever come down to me?

☆

August leaned against the pillar of the Grand Cathedral alone. He relied on the few strands of light leaking into the gloomy interior to flip through the journal in his hands.

After the ruckus that had taken place on that day of the joust, August had felt a bizarre discrepancy in his own memories. A faint, off sensation, and a deep sense of loss.

He had searched for the answer to this loneliness, which he couldn’t simply ascribe to his imagination—and upon reading over his journal, he had finally found it.

“An angel, huh?”

His journal documented conversations with an unknown individual, including arguments, tall tales from the underside of history, and advice on how to interact with dragons.

The name and identity of this individual remained wholly obscured. However, his description of their first meeting, her vast knowledge of theology, and her believable, firsthand accounts of events that had taken place centuries ago pointed to this person being a real angel.

How absurd.

It would’ve been more realistic for him to think of her as some imaginary friend he had made up to endure his harsh environment. To him, she had at times been a sister, at times a teacher, at times a friend. However, August couldn’t possibly consider her fictional. The woman in the journal had known things he couldn’t have known, and she had taken actions he could never have imagined.

Surely there had been a real angel here, once upon a time. But there was no one here any longer.

Loneliness and longing filled his heart. August closed the journal and felt out the emptiness left by a friend he could no longer remember.

“Mew?”

A carefree cat’s cry broke through the gloomy atmosphere. By the time he knew it, a golden cat had come up to his leg.

“Huh? You’re here alone? Are you lost?”

August stuck his hands under the cat’s front legs and lifted it up. Perhaps he was just tired, as he found his face relaxing when he saw its body stretch out a lot more than he expected.

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Do you belong to someone I know?”

“Mrow?”

The cat favorably narrowed its eyes and let him do as he liked. It was a charming cat with no fear of humans. On closer inspection, there was a leather strap around its neck.

As August lifted the cat higher to get a better look, the bell on its collar chimed. A star and a wave were etched into the metal.

“Oh, no wonder. I knew I’d seen you before.”

“Meow.”

It slipped through his arms like magic and landed on the floor without a sound. August turned to see where the cat had run off to.

“Good day, August.”

A girl stood under the vivid torrent of light flooding through the stained glass. She was the daughter of Duke Aurelia. As the light reflected off her honey-colored hair, it formed a radiant halo around her.

She faintly smiled as her gaze met August’s. Her green eyes, the color of the sea just over a shoal, were beautiful yet ice-cold. She wore a prudish dress that covered all the way to her neck, its ultramarine color reminiscent of the night sky.

Her stiff, nearly inorganic looks and her nunlike, austere atmosphere harmonized well with the sacred grounds on which they stood.

“Hello, Erika.”

“You were playing with my cat, I see. Thank you.”

“I’m quite fond of cats. I like the way they don’t drop their guard even when you hold them, and how you can never know what they’re thinking.”

“I can kind of understand that.”

As she nodded and reached out her hand, the cat smoothly slipped past it. August and Erika exchanged a look, then shared a wry smile.

Erika’s a bit like a cat, August thought. She would lurk close enough to take him by surprise, only to slip away if he tried to grab her. She was highly wary, and just when it seemed she had opened up, her heart remained safely behind a tightly closed door.

She never showed her hand, yet her eyes seemed to see everyone’s true intentions. Whimsical, reserved, and aloof.

To August, who had lived while rejecting others, he quite liked the sense of distance she maintained.

“I don’t often see you without your golem.”

“He should be here soon. There was a painting over there he really took a liking to.”

“That’s quite a sophisticated golem you have.”

“Of course. I simply designed him that way to make it seem like he has a will of his own.”

“Hmm, you’re quite meticulous.”

As the two of them gossiped, the golem appeared with a large bag in tow. The bag was apparently crammed full of wands and other magical tools.

Noticing its footsteps, Goldberry, who had been sleeping against the carvings by the skylight, opened her eyes. When she jumped down to August’s shoulders, the golem twitched as if it were cowering in fear.

August held his dragon down before she could take another leap.

“Goldberry, that’s not how a proper lady behaves.”

Goldberry nodded, then flew over to a spot several steps from the golem. She slowly approached it, then calmly spread her wings in an elegant bow.

After observing her for a few seconds, the golem lowered its head back.

“Your golem astounds me no matter how many times I see it.”

“You can do amazing things with modern technology. Believe me.”

“Well then, now that we’re all here, let’s get going. Err, the place I wanted to show you is gone. I wouldn’t mind taking you anywhere you want to go.”

“Yes, I’m counting on you.”

Now that Adventmas had ended, a peculiar gloom lingered in the air on Ynys Negesydd, but August had learned to relish in that mood. Though I can only hope Erika takes a liking to it too, he thought as he walked.

He heard the sound of something falling behind him. When he turned, his eyes suddenly met with the cat’s. August’s journal had fallen page-down in front of it.

“Meow?”

“Oh, it must have fallen from my pocket. I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”

August retrieved his journal and casually scanned the page it had fallen on. He stared at what was supposed to be a blank page, completely still.

“Did something happen?”

“No, it’s nothing. Let’s go.”

August tucked the journal away and urged Erika on. Only the cat noticed the loss and sorrow fading from his face.

☆

The Day After Adventmas, 1880 H.C.E.

Today, I showed Erika around town. I’m looking forward to the day I see her again.

As it turns out, that troublesome angel just hid herself away. She’s still watching over people like she used to.

You can already fly on your own.

May your hands reach the stars someday.