Chapter 3: Struck Too Soon

After receiving word that a suspicious individual had been captured, we departed for the northern estate in order to take him into custody. Leading the charge were Lady Évrard and Alan, who was now old enough to assist his parents in an official capacity. The rest of the traveling party consisted of myself and the other attendants, three knights including Wentworth, and five soldiers for added protection.

Shortly after we arrived, they brought the man out. At a glance, he seemed like an ordinary hunter who might’ve crossed the border by mistake; his hair was messy, and he wore a fur pelt to help disguise his scent. At the time he was apprehended, he was carrying a bow and quiver, neither of which seemed very suspicious.

But when the local soldiers approached him, he’d reacted by attacking with his hunting knife—so they’d arrested him right away. Afterward, they noticed that there were a number of wolf corpses within the surrounding area. Their maws were stained with a reddish fluid too watery to be blood... and the hunter was found in possession of several vials with trace amounts of red fluid at the bottom.

The soldiers had decided this fluid was probably poison, and so they’d sent word to the main estate. And when Lord Évrard had read about the vials of red fluid, it brought to mind the defective spellcaster. Unfortunately, His Lordship already had plans to visit another noble house that day. Thus, it was the margravine (and the future margrave) who went in his stead.

Prior to our arrival, we geared up in anticipation that the detainee would struggle, or more spellcasters would show themselves. But as it turned out, the transfer was relatively uneventful. The man in question seemed mentally defeated; while he refused to answer any questions, neither did he lash out. Then we confiscated the vials, and all that remained was to head home and investigate. Our job was essentially done. We stayed at the branch estate for two days for socializing purposes, and after that, it was time to head south once more.

In order to arrive home before sundown, we packed up early that morning. While Lady Évrard finished her breakfast, we loaded up the carriages; afterward, I brushed and braided Her Ladyship’s silky silver hair. This was one of my duties as an attendant.

In a world without rubber hair ties, braiding was a rather difficult process, but with a little elbow grease and the help of a few hair sticks, I managed to achieve a style Her Ladyship loved. She smiled and admired her hair in the mirror.

“How I wish I could wear my hair like yours. It would be so much simpler,” she mused.

“Such a plain hairstyle would be unbefitting of your station, milady.”

She was referring, of course, to my usual half-ponytail. The margravine seemed to find intricate hairstyles to be pretty, but otherwise impractical; she generally wore her hair in a plain bun or whatever would keep it out of her face while she was riding on horseback.

“Though I’m sure you could try it out once we’re back at the castle,” I added belatedly.

“Perhaps I will. And as for you, Kiara, perhaps you ought to try wearing your hair up more often now that you’re sixteen! I wouldn’t mind matching with you at our next social engagement.”

I was fourteen when I first arrived at Évrard Castle; then I turned fifteen that same winter, and now another birthday had passed. Both times, the residents of the castle were kind enough to celebrate it with me.

Of course, my sixteenth birthday celebration paled in comparison to Alan’s, which had come much sooner than mine. He was the heir to the House of Évrard, after all. People were invited from all around the province to come and enjoy a night of feast and drink. When I heard the kitchen was shorthanded, I sat in the corner and peeled potatoes like a woman crazed—that is, until Alan came looking for me. He seemed to think it was proof of my tragic childhood that I knew how to peel potatoes at all, but I’d actually picked it up from the one person who wasn’t abusive to me: my birth mother.

Once we were ready to go, I accompanied Lady Évrard outside, where she and I and the other attendants boarded the passenger carriage. Alan, Wentworth and the other knights mounted their horses. As for the soldiers, one of them was assigned to drive the passenger carriage, another was to drive the covered carriage containing our detainee, and the remaining three rode on horseback.

As we rolled along, I was contemplating which of my tasks I would prioritize when we arrived back at the castle when...

“Whoa!”

“What’s going on?!”

All of a sudden, the carriage braked hard, and the back of my head collided with the wall. Ouch. I clutched my head and groaned.

The next thing I knew, Lady Évrard had stepped out of the carriage.

“Your Ladyship!”

“Maya, stay with Kiara! Clara, come with me. We’ve got windwolves—five of them, by the looks of it. Nothing you and I can’t handle on our own!”

“As you command, milady!”

“Wait, what?!”

But before I could process what was happening, Clara disappeared through the door of the carriage. Uh, guys? Are you sure we should be sending the margravine out to do battle? Isn’t she priority number one here?!

Truth be told, Her Ladyship handled a great number of dangerous duties on par with any knight—patrols, monster extermination, and more. Perhaps everyone had simply come to expect that she could hold her own in combat.

“Wait... Why would there be windwolves here?”

I could remember a fair few details about windwolves, since they were an enemy type I had encountered in the RPG. They detested the scent of humans, and as such, they avoided areas people frequented, including the high road we were presently traveling. Usually, they only attacked if someone entered their territory.

As their name suggested, these wolflike creatures could harness the power of the wind, specifically while running. They attacked by kicking up blinding whirlwinds, which made dealing with them a hassle. Naturally, the most effective strategy against a windwolf was to injure its legs so it couldn’t run.

“How is the wind this strong?!”

The whole carriage was nearly rattling off its chassis.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Maya frowned, one hand hovering over the hilt of her sword.

Normally, a windwolf’s whirlwind was only strong enough to temporarily blind someone; in the game, this was a status effect that lowered attack accuracy for three turns. Whenever I fought them, I used hit-and-run tactics, and as soon as any of my units were blinded, I had them hide behind my backup fighters. This was the strategy all the walkthroughs recommended.

But here in reality, our carriage was rocking like a rowboat on the high seas. Outside, someone let out a scream, but I was in no position to look out the window and check. All I could do was cling to my seat for dear life.

Just then, someone—or something—crashed into the side of the carriage, and this time it was my turn to scream. The whole vehicle was going to topple over onto its side!

“Miss Kiara!”

Desperate, I scrambled my way up and threw myself against the door on the opposite side of the cabin. Miraculously, my added weight was just enough to act as a counterbalance, and the carriage managed to right itself once more.

When it did, however, gravity flung me right out through the door, because I’d forgotten that it was the kind that opened outwards.

“Guh!”

There I was, once again disgracefully tumbling to the ground—but this was no time for propriety. Once I made sure my skirt hadn’t flipped up, I rose to my feet with the intention of retreating back into the carriage.

And that was when I saw it.

“Your Ladyship!”

A short distance away from the carriage, Lady Évrard was sprawled on the ground... and a windwolf had sunk its teeth into her calf.

“Mother!”

Alan raced over and slashed at the brute with his sword. The wolf gave a yelp and leapt back, but despite its wounds, it looked ready to come charging in for more.

Grimacing in pain, Lady Évrard hauled herself to her feet. The wolf had torn clear through the skirt of her dress, and I could see she was badly bleeding.

“The margravine is injured?”

That wasn’t in the game at all!

In the RPG, right before Alan first deployed his troops in a counterattack against Llewyne, there was a short scene between him and his mother that took place at a fortress in another province. Hence, I’d assumed she was never in any danger. In fact, that was part of the reason I was so surprised when I found out she could fight. After all, that was the only time I saw her during the entire game.

But if Her Ladyship was so combat-capable, then why on earth didn’t she join Alan’s party as a playable character? She would’ve known her son was risking his life to fight in the war. Rather than sit around in safety and let someone else handle it, she would sooner take up the mantle and lead the charge herself.

“Maybe she couldn’t?”

What if she was forced to stay behind... because of an injury?

Sensing that she was too wounded to fight, Her Ladyship began to retreat toward the carriage, dragging her bleeding leg behind her. To shield her, Alan positioned himself between her and the windwolf.

Then she spotted me staring blankly back at her.

“Kiara?! What are you doing?! Quickly! Into the carriage!”

Shaking my head, I dashed over to her. “You go in first, milady!”

With all these whirlwinds whipping around, she could barely stand, so I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Then Clara arrived to defend us.

Nearby, the knights and soldiers had all descended to the ground to fight the windwolves; on horseback, it would’ve been nearly impossible to hit their targets. Fortunately, their injuries were slight at worst. Meanwhile, the horses had all gathered behind the luggage carriage... but strangely enough, although horses were among the most common prey animals of the windwolf, these ones didn’t afford our horses even a passing glance.

This registered to me as peculiar, but frankly I was too busy pushing Her Ladyship into the carriage to think much of it.

“Help me, Miss Maya!”

At my call, Maya came over and dragged the unwilling margravine into the carriage with her. But right as she reached out to haul me up next, my throat tightened, and my heart began to thump uncomfortably hard. Reflexively, I glanced back.

“Miss Kiara!”

Screaming my name, Clara plunged a sword into a windwolf that had lunged for me. It collapsed to the ground, where it spasmed and... looked up directly at me. Was it targeting me specifically?

“Miss Kiara, hurry! Get in here!”

“Right—whoa!”

But before I could climb aboard, another windwolf suddenly leapt onto the roof of the carriage, aided by the wind. The resulting whirlwind knocked me off my feet and caused Clara to stumble as well.

Then the windwolf leapt off the carriage... aiming for me.

“What?!”

I was too startled to think straight. I was right—the wolves were targeting me! I froze, staring into the wolf’s open mouth full of pointed fangs.

But right in the nick of time, someone jumped in front of me—someone wearing a black cloak over a dark green jacket. With his sword, he slashed the wolf clean in half, its blood splattering in every direction. Then he turned back to frown at me, and I realized it was Wentworth.

Nearby, I spotted Alan—maybe he’d attempted to come to my aid as well. Near the luggage carriage, the soldiers were blocking other wolves from heading in my direction. There could be no doubt about it: these creatures were gunning for me, and me alone.

But we were at a stark disadvantage. The windwolves were agile creatures; boosted by the wind, they could come flying from any direction. But our soldiers were obligated to remain stationary to protect me and the carriage.

Wait. What if I could herd them?

I rose to my feet, and my legs firmly supported my weight. Clara stared at me in shock as I proceeded to hike up my skirt and tie it at my knees to keep it out of my way... and then I took off running.

“Miss Kiara!” Clara shrieked.

At this, Alan turned to look. “What the... What are you doing?!”

I didn’t have time to respond. Instead, I ran around behind the carriage... and once I saw the three remaining wolves leap over the knights’ heads in my direction, I turned back and ran past Alan into the nearby thicket.

“Sir Wentworth, move one pace forward! Sir Lyle and Lord Alan, stay where you are for a pincer attack!”

Run! Run like your life depends on it, Kiara!

I zigzagged back and forth between the trees. Sure enough, the windwolves followed me—one at a time, like ducks in a row. In this thicket, the trees grew too densely for the wolves to use their wind, and so they were forced to follow me on foot. At this rate, however, they were going to catch up to me.

I dashed out of the thicket, passed between Lyle and Alan, and ran around behind Wentworth. The wolves followed right along behind.

“I see now,” Wentworth murmured, seemingly having picked up on my plan. Then he stepped forward and speared the first windwolf on his sword. Its corpse then blocked the path for the other two wolves, which came to a stop just in time for Alan and Lyle to finish them off.

But I wasn’t done running, because two more windwolves were approaching from a different direction. My lungs were threatening to burst, but I couldn’t risk another klutzy tumble to the ground or I was dead meat.

“Help me!”

I dashed behind three of the soldiers, who still seemed shocked that these windwolves would seek to attack me specifically for no apparent reason. But when the two additional wolves came up behind me, they switched gears in time to knock them to the ground. There, Alan and Lyle ran up in time to land the finishing blow.

Oh, thank goodness.

I knew that if I was the target, they would prioritize blindly chasing me over all else, even if doing so was tricky in a congested grove of trees. That’s how I was able to manipulate their behavior to my advantage in order to prevent them from making use of their wind magic.

Plus, Alan and the others were skilled enough that they could easily dispatch an enemy that wasn’t paying attention. Thus, I served as a decoy so the others could finish the job.

With all the wolves defeated, I collapsed to my knees, propping myself upright with my hands. Finally, we were safe... but I was too out of breath to rejoice just yet. As I wheezed, I untied my skirt and covered my legs once more.

“You imbecile!” Alan roared, sword in hand, his shoulders heaving. I flinched in fear, but he didn’t relent. “Why would you knowingly put yourself in danger when you can’t defend yourself?! You could have died!”

“We were in trouble! Anyone could have died!”

We were all injured, the margravine included. If I hadn’t done what I did, our chances would have been exceptionally grim. The way things stood now, Lady Évrard wouldn’t be able to walk on that leg for at least a month—and it easily could have been far, far worse. If I’d obeyed her and gone back into the carriage, the wolves would have torn open the vehicle, and Her Ladyship would have been forced to fight while injured.

At the very least, the game version of her was definitely more critically wounded. That would explain why she hadn’t joined Alan’s party.

So yeah, anyone here could have died—and we needed as many soldiers as we could get for the upcoming fight against Llewyne.

This wasn’t even the worst possible outcome, either. If I was right in thinking that this leg injury was what kept Lady Évrard out of the war in the RPG, then that meant she would probably be too wounded to defend the castle from the siege as well. And there was no telling when Llewyne would strike. Just because they attacked in the fall in the RPG didn’t guarantee they wouldn’t turn up sooner in real life.

That said, we had yet to hear any word from the nation of Salekhard. So what would bring Reggie out to our neck of the woods?

Regardless, I knew I couldn’t explain my actions to Alan’s satisfaction. As I stared down at the ground, however, I felt a gentle hand touch my shoulder.

“Are you hurt, Miss Kiara?”

I looked up to find that it was Wentworth, looking back at me with his usual staid composure. I shook my head. He turned to Alan.

“What’s done is done, milord. There’s no sense in reprimanding her now.”

“But—”

“Thanks to her, the crisis was resolved... and in record time. For now, let us hurry away from this place posthaste; the smell of blood may lure in other beasts, and we cannot afford further delays. We must treat Her Ladyship’s wounds at once.”

Alan’s eyes widened in realization, and he nodded quietly. “You’re right, Wentworth. Kiara, I was too harsh with you, but I do hope you’ll explain yourself once we’re home.”

I nodded and rose to my feet. When I approached the carriage, Clara reached out and helped me inside, all the while frowning at me with concern.

“Are you alright, Kiara?” asked the margravine.

I smiled at her. “Yes, milady. The windwolves have all been slain. Now, let’s hurry back to the castle.”

As I helped Maya administer first aid, I contemplated how I was going to explain my actions to Alan later. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at the castle that evening, nothing plausible had come to mind.

As soon as we stepped out of the carriage, the entire castle burst into an uproar: the margravine was wounded! So wounded, she could barely walk! This was quite possibly the most injured they’d ever seen her.

Even His Lordship was completely flustered. Though he appeared calm on the outside, he hovered at his wife’s side at all times, refusing to leave her as he barked various orders: treatment for the wounded, retrieval and dissection of the windwolves’ corpses, interrogation of the detainee, and so on. It was obvious just how protective he was of his beloved, and it put a smile on our faces.

He continued to stay with her long after her treatment was finished, and while she seemed to appreciate this, I got the sense that she thought he was overreacting just a teensy bit.

“All we can do now is give it time and wait for my leg to heal, darling. Your hovering won’t make it happen any faster.”

“But...”

He fell silent, but otherwise refused to budge. And so it was decided that the rest of the castle would give the two lovebirds some time together.

Now that we’d explained the details of what had happened, the rest of us were free to go, so I followed the other attendants out of the room. As I walked down the hallway, I contemplated having dinner, since it’d gotten so late—but I only made it a few steps before someone grabbed me by the wrist. I whirled around to find Alan standing there, his expression hard.

“Hold it, Kiara. We need to talk.”

And given the look on his face, I could tell that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

He led me up to the top of a corner tower built into the external curtain wall surrounding the castle proper. The place was deserted, since our sentries were posted in the much higher main tower. Admittedly it was a safe place to hold a private conversation, but as the daylight was rapidly fading, I felt it was a bit too chilly to be ideal.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, Alan was already at the edge of the tower, peering down. And once I took a few steps toward him, he turned around to face me.

“First things first: don’t hike up your skirt like that. Keep your legs covered. Or have you no shame?” he growled, frowning.

“Oh, that’s what you’re mad about?” I muttered. But the fact of the matter remained that I had committed an egregious faux pas. “Well, uh, I apologize for... the unsightly display, I suppose. If you could keep it a secret from Her Ladyship, I would sincerely appreciate it.”

Every time I gained a new memory of my past life, my sensibilities shifted more and more to match that world, not this one. Hence, I no longer saw bare legs as shameful. Still, just because I didn’t find it offensive didn’t mean other people felt the same, so I apologized. After all, I wasn’t eager to lose my job.

He blinked at me. “Unsightly?”

“Well, surely it must have disgusted you to lay eyes on some random woman’s body, did it not?”

Perhaps if he were attracted to me it would be a different story, but obviously that wasn’t the case. Thus, I imagined I must have made him uncomfortable.

“That’s not the part I’d be worried about if I were you.”

“Really? Surely there are some legs no man would want to see under any circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“Wouldn’t you rather view the legs of a pretty girl? At your age, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn you’d snuck a peek once or twice before. And my legs tend to swell, so I wager they’re not quite up to your standards.”

“What are you talking about? That was my first time ever seeing any girl’s—I mean, uh, this isn’t about the theoretical quality of your legs!”

All in all, he seemed quite flustered. Does he realize what he just said? That’s kind of cute, actually. I decided to apologize again in case the first one didn’t stick.

“Well, in any case, I sincerely apologize for my impropriety. That is what this is about, correct?”

“Perhaps it’s a bad idea to explain to you exactly where my problem lies... So be it. Just don’t tell Reggie, alright?”

What does Reggie have to do with this? I tilted my head. Surely it wasn’t worth telling him. After all, it was an emergency situation, and I was wearing my walking boots at the time, and having my skirt down would’ve made it harder to run, and if I’d stumbled, I would’ve been wolf food. Surely a little exposed leg was preferable to that grisly alternative.

Regardless, I agreed to his request. He sighed heavily.

“Now then, let’s get down to business.”

Reflexively, I straightened my posture.

“Why were those windwolves after you specifically?”

In response, I gave him the answer I’d prepared in advance: “I’m not sure, but I suspect it was because I looked to be the weakest.”

After all, I was the only one not wielding a weapon. And the wolves could likely tell that I was the slowest, clumsiest one. Hence, I figured I could use it as an excuse. Honestly, my success back there was almost entirely luck. One wrong move and I would’ve been torn apart.

Alan didn’t seem convinced.

“That can’t be right. If they were targeting the weakest, then they would’ve all converged on my mother once she was injured. But no—even then, they were focused on you. And yet you knew they would chase you, or else you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

Defeated, I hung my head.

“I think that perhaps... they were fed the same potion as the defective spellcaster.”

“The red potion?”

I nodded.

“I can kind of... sense it somehow,” I confessed. “Whenever I’m near a defective spellcaster, my chest gets all tight and my heart races, almost like I’m coming down with something. At first I thought I was just nervous to be around them, but then I felt the same thing when the wolves attacked... and since they all looked right at me, I’m guessing they must’ve sensed it in me, too.”

“But you’re not certain?”

“I don’t have any expert or textbook I can consult, so it’s hard to say. I asked Reggie to look into it for me, but even he hasn’t found anything conclusive.”

“Not even the great prince of Farzia?” At this, Alan seemed a bit more inclined to forgive my lack of knowledge. “Still, I have to ask: why do we keep having problems with all these defective spellcasters?”

“I think it’s because we’re so close to Llewyne.”

In the RPG, this was the protagonist’s starting point. In the story, Llewynian forces captured Évrard Castle, but only because it was on their way, so to speak. Plus, the prince was there.

“But if Llewyne’s trying to invade, why not go through Erendor to the south?”

“Because they know Reggie will be here. No, wait, maybe they lure him here on purpose...?”

Naturally, it would take an international crisis to draw him all the way out. In the RPG, it was a diplomatic meeting with Salekhard that did the trick. Of course, Reggie came here at other times too, but it would be challenging for someone on the outside to anticipate his timing and plan in advance, since he was always so spontaneous with his visits. Hence, they needed to create a reason for him to show up on command.

And yet there was still no word from Salekhard—not even the smallest rumblings. That was why I’d assumed we still had time left. Instead of messing around with magic behind Reggie’s back, I trusted that he would come up with a plan.

But what if real life was starting to diverge from the plot of the RPG?

There was no dramatic windwolf scene in the game, nor any defective spellcaster characters. What if something had gone wrong with the enemy’s plans, and they’d had to change tactics?

“Maybe they’re using defective spellcasters to cause trouble near Salekhard,” I mused.

One would think that I’d have known better than to say this in front of Alan, but perhaps I was too deep in thought to realize that I’d spoken aloud.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Why would you think that, Kiara? What are you hiding? Tell me everything!”

I snapped back to my senses, and the blood drained from my face. Oh no, how do I explain this? How do I explain that a war might be on its way—and ahead of the schedule I told Reggie?

Perhaps my only option was to try and explain everything to Alan so he could convince the margrave to tighten security in time.

“Well, um, this is something I discussed with Reggie, but you see...”

I gave Alan the same spiel I’d given Reggie—that I’d seen it all in a dream. But in my panic, I added a few more details this time around. I told him how the kingdom of Farzia would be forced to negotiate with Salekhard due to a series of theft and arson incidents that Llewyne framed Farzia for. As a result, Reggie would be sent as a representative, and then Évrard Castle would be attacked. Lady Évrard would not take part in this battle, possibly because she was injured... and it was possible her injury was part of their plan all along.

“I know it’s probably just a dream, but I can’t help but worry it’s something more than that. That’s why I went to Reggie and had him convince His Lordship to prepare for a potential Llewynian raid. But now the circumstances have changed, so...”

It was possible they might strike just two months from now... or sooner. And if we didn’t prepare for it, then we wouldn’t be ready for them when they arrived. The thought terrified me, and so I ended up telling him what might happen if the castle was captured.

I was naive. I thought for sure Alan would hear me out the same way Reggie had. So when I looked up at him, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find him glaring back.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“What? Wh-Why?” I stammered, perplexed.

“You claim it was all a dream, and yet you seem convinced it will come to pass. No, there must be some other reason. The events you describe would span several months! How many nights’ worth of dreaming was this?”

I had no answer to this. No matter how suspicious he became, Reggie had never asked me any probing questions about it. He simply trusted that I had good reason for framing it the way I did—because he could tell from the look in my eyes that I wasn’t just making stuff up. He could tell that I cared about his well-being... to the point that I was willing to sacrifice my lifespan.

But my story had too many uncertainties, and Alan was unwilling to take action on anything that wasn’t grounded in fact. Unfortunately for me, nothing I could say would satisfy him. If I tried to tell him about my past life, it would only sound more ridiculous.

“You don’t even believe in the Scriptures of Jeremiah, do you? This is the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about dream interpretation. And my mother constantly invites you to go with her to church on holy days, but you always turn her down! If you’re a skeptic, as I am, then surely you wouldn’t read into your dreams at all. You wouldn’t endanger yourself in the waking world just because you had a nightmare once!”

He was right, of course. I certainly didn’t conduct myself like a zealous Jeremian. In fact, I was downright relieved when I learned that the House of Évrard was fairly lax in their religious practices.

“To me, it would make more sense if you were still connected to the count of Patriciél. Perhaps you were sent to infiltrate the castle, but you got too attached to us, so you decided to tell us Lord Patriciél’s plans by disguising it all as a dream you had. Much more realistic, wouldn’t you say?”

I could understand why he would suspect that, but it simply wasn’t true. If there was one thing I needed him to understand, it was that I had nothing to do with Lord Patriciél. But how could I prove to him that I wasn’t his enemy?

“Please, you have to believe me!”

I wasn’t smart enough to think of the perfect explanation. Instead, I fell silent.

He let out a sigh. “I can’t do that, Kiara. Surely you must understand. Still, regardless of your source, it doesn’t change the fact that we could be in danger. I’ll go ahead and tell Father you told me all this.”

I inhaled sharply. If he did that, then it would call into question everything I’d ever said. They’d all start to suspect that I was spreading lies. And if Reggie tried to vouch for me, they’d just assume I’d deceived him. The margrave wouldn’t bolster the castle security, and a lot of people would die, him and Reggie included.

I was at the end of my rope.

“What else was I supposed to do?!” I shouted, choking back a sob. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I saw it in a past life!”

“What?”

Alan fixed me with a dubious look, but I didn’t care. He already didn’t believe a word I said, so to hell with it.

“You heard me! Before I was born, I was living a different life in a different world—and there was a story about a country with the exact same name as ours! Same people and everything! In the story, Évrard Castle got captured by Llewyne, and if I hadn’t run away from school, I would’ve ended up a spellcaster in service to the queen, and you would’ve had to kill me on the battlefield!”

Alan stared at me blankly as I poured my heart out.

“How’s that, huh?! I bet you think I’ve gone mad, don’t you?! That’s why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place!”

Unable to bear it a moment longer, I ran out of there as fast as I could and stormed down the stairs to the ground floor.

I needed a place where I could be alone, but there were sentries all over the castle. Even if I tried to hide at the top of a tower, the guardsmen were bound to find me sooner or later. Ultimately, I decided to hide in a thicket a short distance from the main estate. I sat down, buried my face in my knees, and sobbed.

After a while, I slowly regained my composure, at which point regret set in. How could I have said all that? Now Alan was only going to suspect me all the more. Would I have to leave the castle? If so, it would mean breaking my promise with Reggie. But if Alan told his father everything I said, he might suspect me of being a Patriciél spy. Then he’d write a letter to Reggie about it, and they’d throw me in the dungeon... or just exile me, if they were feeling lenient. In the end, they’d decide that my fears about Llewyne were just a crock of nonsense.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“I’ll just have to destroy them from the inside.”

At this point, all I could do was return to the House of Patriciél, marry the viscount, and throw the rest of my life away in order to become a spellcaster. I didn’t know if I could learn magic in time, but I couldn’t afford to wait around anymore. The day of reckoning was just a month or two away.

“Reggie...”

My heart ached for the one person who had trusted me unconditionally. He’d once said he would rather die than let me return to the House of Patriciél, but that was the last thing I wanted. He could curse my name forevermore as long as it meant he would survive the siege.

Unconsciously, I placed a hand over the pendant concealed beneath the fabric of my dress.

“Why won’t the Thorn Princess just tell me what to do?”

I needed to turn myself into a spellcaster as quickly as possible. At least then I’d be stronger. And even if they refused to believe me, I could still protect them when the time came.

Just then, I noticed something strange.

“Huh?”

I pulled the pendant out from under my dress and looked down at it. It didn’t seem any different, and yet... when I closed my eyes and squeezed it, I felt something ripple outward in a perfect circle. This ripple kept going and going until I felt it “hit” something in the distance ahead and to my left.

What’s happening?

It was hard to describe, since I couldn’t actually see it with my own two eyes, but it felt like there was some sort of radar in my head. And whenever the ripple connected with something, my heart lurched in my chest. I’d never done this before, and I didn’t really know what I was doing, but somehow I could tell.

Is this... magic?

All this time, I’d felt a similar sort of unease when I was near those windwolves and defective spellcasters, and now I felt it again. Could it mean...?

If I go in that direction, will I find a spellcaster?

As soon as the idea struck me, I headed straight back to my room and changed into horseback-riding clothes. Then I wrote a short message (“If you’re reading this, assume I’m dead and don’t come looking for me”) and left it in a conspicuous place... You know, in case I didn’t come back. After all, I was planning to approach a spellcaster with absolutely no weapons to protect myself.

I knew it was reckless. I knew I might get myself killed. That was why I wrote that note in the first place, though admittedly my hands were shaking so badly that my handwriting was rendered nigh illegible.

It would take far too long to search entirely on foot, so I led my usual horse out of the stable and hopped on. Fortunately, the gatekeeper and I were on familiar terms by now; I told him I was leaving on urgent business, and he let me pass.

As the last hint of daylight faded, I spurred my horse forward at full speed. At night, the roads were quiet; all I could hear was the faint hooting of owls. Occasionally, I would stop the horse, check the signal from the pendant, then adjust my trajectory as needed... but in the end, I turned up empty-handed.

Eventually, I decided to take a short break. I led my horse to the river for a drink, then tied it to a nearby tree. But right as I was about to sit down, I felt someone grab me by the arm.

“AAAH!”

Startled, I jumped up. Was it a bandit?! Were they targeting me because I was a lone woman?!

“It’s alright, Miss Kiara! It’s just me!”

The calm voice brought me back to my senses.

In the darkness, I could barely make out the features of the man’s face. It was Wentworth. His dark hair and clothing blended neatly with the shadows of night, but I could recognize his tanned skin and honey-colored eyes.

Tension set in as I remembered the circumstances I was in. Alan had told me at the start that I was forbidden from fleeing the castle lest I be seen as an enemy informant. Was Wentworth here to silence me permanently?

Then he sighed.

“I think I know what it is you’re afraid of. No, you’re not under suspicion of desertion. If anything, we’re all worried you were trying to run away from home.”

“Oh... That’s all?”

The instant I realized my fears were groundless, I collapsed into a sitting position. Naturally, since Wentworth still had me by the arm, this flustered him a bit. “Are you hurt?”

“No, not yet.”

“Hm? Well, in any case, let us return to the castle. This is no time for a young woman to be wandering around by herself.”

I appreciated his concern, but I shook my head. “I can’t go back there. I don’t think Alan or His Lordship would want me back anyway.”

After all, I was just some nutjob and/or spy. They wouldn’t believe me unless I became a spellcaster—and that was my whole reason for coming out here in the first place.

I figured Wentworth would ask me “why not?” but instead, what he said was:

“I spoke with Lord Alan before I left. He told me everything.”

“Huh?”

This was not what I was expecting, nor had I anticipated what came next.

“Furthermore, he has asked me to ask you not to go telling anyone else about it. Long story short, you don’t have to worry about him. I’ve already convinced him you’re on our side.”

“Why would you do that?”

If Wentworth knew the whole story, then he had every reason to question my intentions, just as Alan had. And yet... he simply fixed me with a strained smile, like a patient father tending to a wailing child. It was rare to see him emote at all, so I was honestly a bit taken aback.

Then he said, “I could never doubt the loyalty of a maiden who would sacrifice her modesty to protect her friends. Without your courage, someone could have been gravely wounded. Thank you for your service, Miss Kiara.”

I was so touched, tears sprang to my eyes... Wait a minute.

“Um, Sir Wentworth? Could you maybe... erase my ‘modesty’ from your memory, if possible?” I asked, wiping the corners of my eyes, and he chuckled at me. Somehow, his tone of voice remained distinct from Reggie’s soft, dulcet tones and Alan’s open expressiveness.

“As you wish. Still, I must say... you are a most peculiar woman. One minute you’re dashing around the battlefield like a war hero, and the next minute you’re blushing over a little bare skin.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Well, I am still a girl, you know.” And old enough to marry, at that.

“Yes, of course. Oh, but for the record, Wentworth is actually my surname. In this case, my proper title would be Sir Cain.”

Wait, what? Everyone was always calling him Wentworth, so I hadn’t realized it was his last name at all.

“When I was first sworn in, there was already a knight by the name of Cain. Thus, to differentiate the two of us, they decided they would call me Wentworth.”

“Oh, I see!” Makes sense. Come to think of it, there were a lot of Alans in this world, too. This sort of thing was probably fairly common.

“Now then, Miss Kiara, let us make haste back to the castle. We may not be able to station guards in every corner, but it’s still safer there than out here off the beaten path.”

“I understand, of course, but... can I keep looking for a little while longer?”

“Looking for what?” asked Wentworth—er, Cain.

“For the spellcasters.”

If I wanted to keep everyone safe, then this was my only option. Even if I couldn’t find them right this instant, I would keep looking for as many days as it took. In my mind, I whispered an apology to Reggie.

I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.

◇◇◇

In the weeks that followed, almost as if to prove my suspicions correct, monsters began to appear in greater numbers near the castle. Today found our soldiers traveling to a small forest an hour away in order to wipe out another swarm.

“Fire!”

Once Alan gave the order, the rows of archers behind him let their arrows fly. Incendiary arrows, to be precise. They carved a graceful arc through the air directly at the swarm of sky-jellyfish floating over a prairie a short distance away. There were ten of them in total; most of them swatted the arrows away with their long, translucent tentacles, but about a third of them took the hit and began to sink, sizzling as they went.

These monster battles were now taking place at a rate of two per week. Whenever a town or village reported sightings of dangerous creatures in the area, the margrave sent his men at once to resolve the problem.

I tore my gaze away from the battle at hand. While Alan was distracted, I spurred my horse through the forest; naturally, Cain was right behind me.

On that fateful night one month ago, when I told him I was looking for spellcasters, he asked me if doing so would protect the House of Évrard. When I nodded, he volunteered to assist me in my quest.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder: why had he convinced Alan I wasn’t a threat? Didn’t he think my claims about my past life were nonsense?

When I asked him outright, however, he replied, “My parents lost their lives in the previous war with Llewyne—all because of a single dirty trick. They were on their way to provide backup to the nation of Erendor, but the heavy rains had caused a landslide, blocking the high road to Llewyne. But then Llewynian soldiers ambushed them, disguised as repair workers.”

His lips twisted in a pained smile.

“Because of their carelessness, innocent civilians and farmworkers were injured in the ensuing battle. That’s why I’ll never turn a blind eye to even the slightest chance of danger. As it stands, we’re experiencing a series of unprecedented setbacks. With that in mind, I think we’d have to be stupid to ignore your warnings.”

Evidently, Cain wasn’t eager for history to repeat itself. But his was not a blind faith; no, he had several concrete reasons to believe me. And so it was that I gladly accepted his offer of assistance.

As I reminisced on the events of that night, I guided my horse through the trees, all the while holding my pendant with one hand to send out ripple after ripple. This method had already proven successful more than once, and now that I was more comfortable with the sensation, I could check it without needing to stop the horse.

Unfortunately, our suspect continued to evade us as though they knew we were coming. Worse still, there were always large numbers of monsters within the vicinity when we arrived—certainly too many for Cain to fight off on his own. His theory was that the spellcaster could control the monsters somehow, and sure enough, we would always inevitably stumble across a village under attack by monsters as well as an empty hideout that showed signs of a spellcaster’s presence. That was the point at which he decided to report back to Lord and Lady Évrard and formally request permission for us to accompany the monster dispatch squad whenever they were sent out.

The plan was simple: while soldiers fought off the monsters, Cain and I would sneak around to apprehend the spellcaster. After all, if we could take down the spellcaster, perhaps we could put an end to the outbreaks once and for all. Naturally, the plan was approved, and as a result, I now had His Lordship’s blessing to hunt for spellcasters.

That said, however, I obviously couldn’t go telling them about my newfound radar powers. Any mention of magic, no matter how slight, would invite suspicion that I, too, was a defective spellcaster... and I wasn’t exactly looking to get myself hauled off to the dungeon.

Lady Évrard was deeply concerned about my involvement in this plan. Fortunately, Alan hadn’t revealed my secrets to his parents just yet; apparently, he had decided to think it through a little more. Every now and then I’d catch him assessing me with a probing stare, but unfortunately he had stopped speaking to me almost entirely, and it stung.

Still, if I was going to clear my name, the fastest route was to make myself into a spellcaster. Nothing else could possibly convince Alan that I wasn’t crazy... except for the worst-case scenario, that is, and I refused to let it come to that. Hence, I was desperate to track down this spellcaster as soon as possible.

“They’re close!” I told Cain.

He hopped off his horse and gestured for me to do the same. Then we tied our horses to a tree and crept forward as quietly as possible. He carried the cast net, while I carried the two flasks.

Once we’d taken about thirty steps, we spotted an old man sitting on a fallen log, facing away from us. He wore an ankle-length, sandy-brown poncho, reminiscent of a hermit’s garb, beneath a dark, gray-black cloak (probably for night camouflage). A staff lay propped up against the log beside him—more specifically, a wooden walking stick with a T-shaped handle. In the distance ahead of him was a clear view of the ensuing battle between the soldiers and the sky-jellyfish.

Internally, I did a fist pump. This was, without a doubt, the spellcaster we’d been hunting for the past month. We’d caught a few glimpses of him here and there before now, but each time he’d sent his monsters to attack us while he escaped.

Fortunately, there were no monsters around this time. He probably figured he was safe over here, away from the fighting. And even better, he had yet to notice us, possibly because he was focused on controlling the monsters with his magic.

Cain and I exchanged a nod. Then, a few seconds later, he flung the net at our quarry.

“Nngah!”

Though the net was intended for river fishing, it was still large enough to cover a human. Before the spellcaster could use his magic to break through, I walked up and hit him with the contents of the larger flask.

“Brrrr!” he shrieked, but I ignored him. Instead, I uncorked the smaller flask, reached in, and flung its contents at him: a leafy, bulbous creature happily flailing its roots. Yes, it was a zapgrass, and after being confined in darkness for so long, it sparked excitedly at the sight of sunlight.

Then it connected with the spellcaster.

“GAAAAHHH!”

Now that his body was soaking wet, it was the perfect conduit for the zapgrass’s electricity. One scream later, he collapsed, unconscious.

Considering I couldn’t use magic myself, this was the only offensive strategy I had been able to come up with. Even then, my intention was only to paralyze him. Surely the attack wasn’t strong enough to be fatal... right?

“He’s not dead, is he?” I asked.

Cain frowned, concerned. Then he grabbed the equally unconscious zapgrass and flung it far into the distance. Next, he made sure the man was still breathing, then tied him up.

Once it was safe, I had Cain use his sword to nudge the old man awake once more. I wasn’t sure how to greet him, so I said, “Good morning, Mr. Spellcaster! Rise and shine!”

Sure enough, the spellcaster stirred to life.

“Who the hell are you people?!”

“Your captors,” I told him truthfully.

“That’s one way to put it, I guess,” Cain muttered.

Meanwhile, the old man seemed to recognize us.

“Hmph! You’re the little weasels who’ve been stalking me! Yes, I remember. When did I see you last? Three days ago? Heehee!” The withered old man let out an eerie cackle. “What do you want with this old dotard? Hoping to stop the monsters? Heeheehee!”

“That’s part of it, yes. But also I’d like to know how I can become a spellcaster, too. Could you tell me?” I asked.

For a split second, the man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oho! So you’d like to throw your young life away? Heehee!”

What?! Are you saying the mere act of trying will kill me?!

He seemed to sense my panic, because his lips curled in a mischievous grin. “Not many have the constitution for magic. It all depends on whether you can stomach the contract stone. Eeeheehee! Even with a mentor to guide you, chances are, you’ll still end up a pile of dust. No sense in a young thing like you taking that gamble. That’s why all the spellcasters you meet are folks who don’t have anything left to lose! Mmheehee!”

“What’s a contract stone?”

I didn’t like his weird giggling, and it kind of felt like he was underestimating me, but at least he was willing to answer my questions. Had he resigned to his fate as my captive? I wasn’t sure, but either way, I appreciated it.

“The contract stone is imbued with the power of Creation. Assimilate it into your body, and you’ll gain the power to control Nature itself! Heehee!”

“Wow.” So that’s how magic works in this world.

In the RPG, magic spells were just listed out as text in a drop-down menu—pick one, use it, done. Of course, there were restrictions on what spells you could use at the start of the game, and the more you used them, the stronger they’d get. Plus, as each character leveled up, their spell range would increase.

“Ingesting that lump of raw energy is akin to swallowing the sun itself. Only those who can endure it will live to be spellcasters. But even then, no one can manage it alone... Pffheehee... That’s why each spellcaster has to split their stone with their mentor... Eeehee... Eeeheehee... Ghhck!”

The old man cackled so hard, he fell into a coughing fit. Meanwhile, I contemplated this information. “How would they split a stone? Break it in half?”

“Precisely! The mentor takes the smaller piece, and the disciple takes the larger. They ingest it at the same time, and because the halves are connected, the mentor can help take some of the heat off of the disciple. Heeheehee! After all, the mentor is always a veteran spellcaster who went through the same process himself. He’ll already have a big chunk inside him, so another tiny piece won’t hurt much! Pffheehee!”

In other words, if the mentor was already on fire, then another ounce of kindling wouldn’t change anything. But for the disciple, setting oneself ablaze would look like a Herculean undertaking—one that came with the risk of first-degree burns. Thus, the mentor’s built-up tolerance could serve as a partial shield to mitigate the damage done to the disciple.

Now I understood why spellcasters all had mentors. In which case, there was only one question left to ask.

“Could I ask you to be my mentor?”

“Pffhee...?” Evidently, he hadn’t expected me to ask him flat-out. He blinked up at me from the ground.

“Miss Kiara! Are you out of your mind? You can’t trust this man!” Cain shouted. He was right, of course, but I was out of time. I needed to make myself a spellcaster ASAP, and this old man was my only hope.

“He’s right, you know,” the man grinned. “You should quit while you’re ahead. The mentor-disciple connection is binding... It will chain you to me. Eeeheehee.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. Through the contract stone, the mentor can control the disciple’s magic in order to keep them alive... but that means they can just as easily overload the disciple’s body and kill them. Are you sure you want to place your life in my hands? Eeeheehee!”

It seemed no spellcaster was truly independent. While I hadn’t anticipated this, in a way, it made a lot of sense. Since Game-Kiara was a spellcaster, she’d probably had a mentor, too. Maybe the reason she didn’t run from her final battle was because her mentor forced her to stay and fight, lest they kill her outright. No matter what she did, she knew she would end up dead, so she chose to stand her ground.

“Now I get it...”

“If you don’t want anyone dictating how you live your life, then you can just forget about being a spellcaster! Eeeheeheehee!”

“Can they control the magic I use, too?”

“Oh, I imagine so. Pffheehee. There was once a spellcaster who plotted to destroy a building while his mentor was inside, but he was blocked from doing so, or so the story goes. Eeeheeheehee! What a fool.”

I fell silent. My journey to becoming a spellcaster was starting to look an awful lot like a waste of time... but this old man was the only spellcaster I knew other than the Thorn Princess. And since she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information herself, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be eager to take me in as her disciple.

And another thing: Reggie had said she seemed unable to discuss the subject. Could that be yet another case of a mentor placing restrictions on their disciple? If so, maybe she literally couldn’t accept me as her disciple. Were there any other options?

Just then, Cain made a terrifying suggestion.

“What if I waited until after you safely survived the spellcaster transformation, then killed him?”

“Sir Cain! He’s not going to help me if he thinks you’re just going to kill him afterward!”

It was such a cold-blooded idea, I shot it down without a second thought.

“Never underestimate a spellcaster. I would put my life on the line to destroy you both,” the old man declared, and for once his expression was hard. Clearly he was serious.

As for me, all I knew was this: I had well and truly hit a dead end. It felt like a door had been slammed in my face.

Just then...

“Look out!”

Cain lunged forward and pushed me to the side. A split second later, a translucent tentacle shot out in front of my face. A sky-jellyfish! Their sting was far, far worse than any sea jelly. Together, the two of us stumbled away from the old spellcaster.

Meanwhile, a small number of men appeared—travelers, by the look of it, their faces concealed with cloth. They hauled up the old spellcaster and beat a hasty retreat. Considering the overall rarity of spellcasters in general, he was clearly worth rescuing.

As the men carried him away, the spellcaster gazed at me, his eyes almost... searching for something.

Meanwhile, Cain immediately changed tack, chasing after the men and crossing blades with one of them. Without sparing even a glance at the spellcaster, he launched a heavy offensive on the single straggler until he was defeated. A spray of blood shot out from his right arm, and his sword fell to the ground. Then Cain knocked him upside the head with the flat of his blade, knocking him unconscious on the spot.

It was an intense display of skill, if a bit frightening.

“Now we should be able to track the enemy’s movements,” he explained.

Ah, so that’s why he wanted to take one of them down. Smart thinking.

“Thank you. This should make finding the spellcaster a lot easier next time... right?” I hesitated because it occurred to me that I had no way of knowing for sure whether that old man was even willing to help me.

“If we threaten him a bit harder, he might tell us if there are any alternative methods. Don’t lose heart just yet,” Cain reassured me.

I nodded.

We decided we would call it a day and take our detainee back to the castle.

When we arrived, we were startled to find the whole castle in a flurry, the servants running from the estate to the barracks and back in a constant stream. Fortunately, one of the passing guards noticed our confusion and stopped to enlighten us.

“Sir Knight! Miss Attendant! We’ve received word that His Highness the prince will arrive no later than tomorrow—or as early as today!”

“What?”

“Supposedly, Salekhard has requested to negotiate with him regarding an urgent crisis. I imagine you’ll hear all about it from His Lordship, so you’d better get going. He’s been looking for you two!”

At this, the blood drained from my face, and a wave of dizziness set in. The guard’s smile faltered. “Are you alright, miss?!”

“Miss Kiara!”

If Cain hadn’t flung our detainee to the ground in order to catch me, I probably would have passed out on the spot.

Reggie was on his way here... and now I was too late to acquire the means to save him.