Working at Harré, Part Two

It’s been half a year since I began working at Harré.

“Here is the request form.”

I hold a piece of paper in one hand, smiling.

The weather outside is perfect, work is going smoothly, and there are a lot of sorcerers and clients coming into Harré today. I think a lot of them come in just for lunch, and due to the rush, it smells like the kitchen is busier than usual. I can smell the mouthwatering flavors of meat and spices from my seat all the way over here at reception.

That smells like it would be great right about now. It’s just about time for me to have lunch, right?

I place one hand on my stomach, trying to prevent it from growling too loudly.

“Alright then, I hope my request gets taken care of soon.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your patronage.”

The client in front of me places their seal on the request forms. I hold my hand out over the papers and duplicate them instantly. And so one becomes two. I’m completely used to this sort of work by now.

Just as I’m looking over at some male sorcerer tearing into the meat before him with vigor, I process yet another client. I’m dealing with everything from checking the contents of the request—easy or difficult, negotiating on price, and then double checking everything. It’s all making me rather hungry.

It’s already lunchtime and I still can’t take a break...

“Hey now, aren’t there any better jobs than this kinda crap?!”

“At the present moment, this is the only level of work we can assign you.”

“Hah?! What’re you trying to get at?”

Still, I’m sitting on the easier side of this whole process. Those receptionists dealing with the sorcerers over there look like they’ve got it rough.

Ms. Harris, my bespectacled senior colleague, is somehow managing to deal with a group of aggressively arrogant sorcerers with a polite, kind smile on her face. I’m not going to go over there and tell those sorcerers that they’re overconfident, but I would like to tell the guys who take us receptionists lightly because we’re women that they need to give it up. Especially with Ms. Harris. She seems rather calm and frail at first, but she wavers not in the slightest once she’s made a decision about something.

At times like these, her glasses will flash in that peculiar way, and suddenly her foe looks not onto the cute little face of a receptionist, but into the very heart of hell.

“I don’t think the job suits me at all, you know.”

“But this request—”

“You know, I like this one better.”

In the next line over from Ms. Harris’s reception desk, a different colleague of mine is dealing with another sorcerer. That sorcerer is complaining about how the jobs he’s being given don’t suit him, he wants different work, doesn’t want that job, and on and on, whining about every little thing she does as she tries to show him different request forms. He’s getting nowhere at all. All of the receptionists have smiles on their faces, but on the inside I know that their blood is definitely boiling.

I mentioned earlier that most of the receptionists were women, but the fact of the matter is that most of the employees here at Harré are women. There are, of course, some male employees, but the vast majority of them are usually out doing fieldwork, so most of the employees inside the building at any given moment are women. The employee gender ratio is about four women for every man. There are a lot of young women among the employees, but it’s more common for the men to be in their forties or fifties.

It seemed like the reason for that imbalance was that most of the young men coming of age every year joined the Knight’s Order. Most of them hoped to become knights after they graduated because they believed it was an honorable profession, the commoners loved the knights, and it had a certain cultural cachet to say you were a knight.

“Nanalie!” the Director had told me recently, “You don’t need salt next time you come across the Knight Commander, just grab some big bugs and fling them at him!”

“Understood. I’ll be sure to carry some around with me.”

So that’s the reason why there were only a few men working at Harré. The Knight Commander and the Director didn’t have a good relationship for several reasons, but the lack of male recruits seemed to be at least one of the reasons for the Director’s antipathy towards him.

If I had to describe the work done at Harré, I’d say it’s like working backstage. Our jobs aren’t as flashy as those of the knights, but a lot of people who were formerly a part of the Royal Order, those who’d gotten older and less able to perform the work required of a knight, often chose to come work at Harré as a place to start over. If they’d lost their skills as a mage, however, the Director wouldn’t even think about hiring them, of course.

It was the man who guided me around Harré when I first arrived who told me all this. He’d left the Order at the age of thirty, and said that he’d been working here ever since then, for about ten years. I heard him speak just that once about his time as a Knight—to protect the secrecy of the Order, he’d been forced to swear a “Blood Oath” to keep the contents of his work secret. The Oath was a magical spell that kept him from saying anything about most of what he’d done on the job as a knight.

It’s certainly not a spell that I can lift.

“Um, what sort of request might you wish to make?”

“Hello!”

“Hello.”

While my mind is distracted by those other thoughts, I continue taking care of anything that comes my way.

“And how old might you be?”

“Two!”

“Two years old? That’s quite something.”

“Ye-AH!”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

Before me sits a very cute little girl and her mother. The little girl’s light golden hair is carefully gathered into two ponytails. She’s sitting on her mother’s knees, beaming as she looks at the pure white request form. She looks transfixed, as if it were the most interesting object in the world.

I see her looking that way and am taken back to when I was that young. When I first came here with my father, did I look like that as well?

It’s embarrassing to think about. I feel a bit uneasy about that possibility.

“Ah,” the mother sighs. She, on the other hand, does not look very happy. She’s gently petting the top of her girl’s head, letting out a sigh every so often.

She seems troubled by something.

“Are you alright?” I ask. Perhaps it’s rude, but I go on to say, “You don’t seem to be feeling very well.”

“Well, it’s just...” Her reply trails off.

What do I do now? I’ve really screwed up now, haven’t I? I break out into a cold sweat.

We’ve been stuck here like this for a while. Every time I try to ask her about what, exactly, she wants to make her request about, she just sighs. The little girl will talk to me, but the mother, who I really need to tell me something, refuses to say a word.

I feel like I’m being tested here. Do I have what it takes to be a good employee at Harré?

“...My husband, he... he hasn’t come home since yesterday.”

Just about when I myself am feeling a bit ill as well, she suddenly lifts her head and looks straight at me.

“Your husband?”

So that’s what this is about. An infidelity investigation.

I get a little excited at the new development and scoot up to the edge of my seat, but Zozo, who’s sitting next to me, gives me a kick under the desk and I relax back into my previous position.

Please forgive me for being such an indiscreet woman.

“He went into the forest and he hasn’t come back.”

The woman making this request, Ms. Maria, cuddles the little girl sitting on her knees a little tighter as she tells me this. Her dark brown hair is a little curly. She’s wearing a barrette that holds most of her hair towards the back of her head, but between her long bangs that hang down over her face, I can see her green eyes, and they show her exhaustion. She sometimes smiles reflexively down at the little girl in her lap when she gets excited, but her mind seems somewhere else entirely.

“It’s already been a full night without any contact from him.”

According to what she tells me, this whole affair began when her husband, Gouda Krain, had gone into the forest, in search of a single farm animal that had wandered in there. The Krain house is situated on a large farm where they raise herbivorous, six-legged “pokkels” to sell at the food markets. On the east side of their farm, next to the mountain, a pokkel had escaped into the forest.

There’s a fence along the edge of the forest that’s enchanted with a simple anti-demon spell, so it’s not like the farm is completely defenseless against demons. But there had been no evidence that a demon had tried to breach the fence, and furthermore they hadn’t even seen any demons nearby when the pokkel had escaped. The family seemed to doubt the neighborhood rumors that demons had been sighted in their area.

With that information, it makes sense when Maria tells me that her husband hadn’t seemed too concerned about going into the forest to look for the escaped pokkel.

“I’ll bring it back soon, alright?”

“Take care, dear.”

He hadn’t seemed concerned about the rumors, so she hadn’t objected to him going into the forest, seeing him off with a smile. She’d thought that he’d be back within a few hours, but even after sundown, and then a whole night, Mr. Gouda hadn’t come back home, so she’d begun to find the whole situation worrisome. She’d thought about going into the forest herself, but if he had been attacked by demons... She was too afraid to go in there after him with a little girl waiting at home, all alone, so she had decided to come to Harré instead.

She herself could use the most basic level of magic necessary to go about her daily routine, but she had no magical skills that would be useful against a demon, so it’s probably all for the best that she came here. She’d told me she hadn’t wanted to put her neighbors’ lives in danger by asking them to find her husband, so making a request here at Harré had been the only option left to her.

“So the pokkel came back to the farm after that, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right. My husband went into the forest, and then right before dusk it came running back, as if it was fleeing from something.”

“That sounds a little strange, doesn’t it?”

From her seat next to me, Zozo takes the request form in hand and takes a closer look at it.

“Ms. Maria, as you know, there are demons in this forest. But in the past couple of years, we haven’t heard of a single sighting, let alone a report of an attack.”

Of all four directions of the compass, the safest part of the forest is the eastern part. However, while it may be called the “safest,” that doesn’t change the fact that it is still dangerous.

“Having said that, we have also gotten requests similar to this one.”

“Similar requests?”

Ms. Maria tenses up when she hears Zozo’s words. The child she’s holding in her lap lets out a small whimper as her mother squeezes her, and looks up at her with tears in her eyes. Hold on for just one more moment, little lady.

“There’s an elderly woman who’s gone missing in the area near the northern edge of the forest.”

Zozo points up at a specific request form on the job board.

Just a few days ago, a woman had come into Harré with the request. Her grandmother had gone for a walk around a pond near the edge of the northern forest, and she hadn’t come back. The two of them had been living together, and after she’d seen off her grandmother heading out for her daily walk, she’d left home herself to go to work.

That had been the last time she had seen her, and while there had been a neighbor who’d said they had seen an old woman at a tavern near the pond, they weren’t sure if it had been her grandmother or not. Several sorcerers had accepted the assignment, but as of yet, the request hadn’t been fulfilled.

Hold on a second. I turn to ask Zozo a question.

“A psychometric analysis was performed, correct?”

“Yes, Harris asked a sorcerer to do that for her, apparently.”

“Psychometry” is a specific type of magic where the mage casts a spell on any inorganic form—a stone, a patch of ground, a tree, a building—and the mage is able to summon the memories of the object. Use it on a patch of ground and it’s possible to find out who passed through the area and when, use it on a building and you can find out who entered and at what time. The memories appear as three-dimensional images in the air, suspended near the object. A very high degree of skill is necessary to successfully cast the spell, not to mention superior concentration, intellect, imagination... Unless you are able to focus all of your senses on the object and its memories, the spell would fail.

Among the sorcerers who regularly come into Harré to fulfill requests is a sorcerer quite skilled at psychometry. The sorcerer had searched the whole area, thinking that they would be able to find some hint that would help solve the case. Not too many people could perform psychometry, but for cases of missing items or persons, it was usually easy to solve them by using it.

“It’s odd that we’ve had this series of disappearances in the forest recently, don’t you think?”

That sorcerer, however, could find almost no trace of the woman using psychometry. The only thing they had found was a single stump that had “remembered” the woman sitting on it to rest.

“Alkes, perhaps it would be a good idea for us to do a preliminary investigation for this request? No sorcerers have been harmed yet in these forest cases, but it’d be better to do an investigation now to hopefully ensure it stays that way.”

“Hmm? Zozo, you planning on going out to do that?”

One of the male employees who sits behind us, Alkes, calls out to Zozo as he’s making copies of some paperwork. Alkes used to be a part of the Order of Knights. He’s taken care of me almost as much as Zozo since I’ve arrived, and he’s usually doing some sort of administrative work in the seat where he’s sitting now. As the person who accompanies the Director whenever she goes outside Harré on business or to attend official meetings, he’s basically like the “Vice Director,” even though that position doesn’t actually exist at Harré.

“I’m going with Nanalie.”

“With Hel?”

Zozo has a sneaky look on her face as she says that. Alkes and I look at each other.

Alkes has jet-black hair. His eyes are blue, and they slant downwards a bit at the edges. Not exactly the most energetic-looking guy. He acts how he looks, too, eating snacks at his desk despite the fact he’s in the middle of work, seeming to not care about how such behavior might appear to others. He isn’t at all fat, though—mysteriously, he has a rather trim figure. Where’s all that sugar going? He looks even thinner than he might otherwise thanks to the black of the Harré uniform he has on.

“Hmmm.”

?

A short while passes, after which he smiles and says, “That should be alright, don’t you think?” What exactly he’s thinking “should be alright” is as of yet a mystery to me. My eyes grow wide as I take a look at the paper Alkes hands to me.

“A preliminary... investigation.”

“Yeah. You’re going.”

Preliminary investigations are for those requests that Harré deems to be dangerous, and are occasions on which at least one employee goes out to investigate the area of the request and the potential dangers inherent within, before we actually agree to post the job up on the notice board.

I mentioned earlier that it’s quite common for the male employees to do “fieldwork,” and by that I had been mainly referring to these preliminary investigations.

It’s been half a year since I began working here at Harré.

I’ve become completely accustomed to my usual work of making copies, but my heart is pounding with excitement at this unexpected turn of events.

I hadn’t even dreamed of being able to do fieldwork until after my first year here.

“But Ms. Zozo, I—”

I’m a little worried about this because the Director said that she wouldn’t have me do any other work during my first year besides my office tasks. I can’t just do some other job without the Director’s permission. It’s not like I’m dissatisfied with my current work, and I had been content to wait until I received the Director’s formal approval before I started doing anything else. I would, graciously and without hesitation, back out of being a part of any preliminary investigation team if she told me “no” right now.

So here I am, with Zozo, who is completely intent on taking me with her to do this investigation, but I mention the fact that I haven’t, technically, received the Director’s permission to do so.

“Goodness, were you worried about something like that?”

“Yes?”

She completely disregards my misgivings and tells me it is “okay.” That was unexpected. My eyes grow even wider than they had when I’d first been handed the preliminary investigation report paper.

“Is it really ‘okay’?”

“The truth is that about a month ago, the Director took me aside and asked me to do something like this. ‘If there’s a preliminary investigation that comes up that you think you could take her on, make sure you do,’ is what she said.”

“Director Locktiss said that?”

“We tell all of our new recruits to ‘wait for your second year’ for work like this, but you’ve gotten used to the work rather quickly, and you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. Plus, you did manage to always get second place in the magic school grade rankings, I hear.”

“Second place.” Those words stab into my heart like a bloodthirsty knife. I didn’t even have any time to prepare for that!

“It would be a shame if you forgot how to fight. As if you ever would, haha. So you don’t need to worry about that, okay?”

Zozo goes on talking without noticing how I am clenching one hand to my chest, trying to stem the emotional bleeding caused by that cruel reminder of my grades during my school days.

“Excellent!” (She hasn’t waited for any reaction from me.) “Alkes, I don’t suppose you mind if we head out now?”

“That was quick. I’ll be sitting here while you’re gone, though, so it’s fine. I’ll tell the Director about it too.”

“Thanks.”

I’m caught up in this conversation that keeps charging on ahead without me. I take a glance over at Ms. Maria to see how she’s taking this new development. She’d been looking over here as well, and when I look at her, our eyes meet.

“Will you be going out to the forest now?”

“Yeah, these kinds of situations are battles against the clock. We’ll make sure we can get you that finalized request form by the end of today.”

“Th-thank you so much!”

Ms. Maria looks back and forth between Zozo and me, and bows to us both several times.

“Please, please do whatever you can.”

“Ma—...?”

The little girl looks puzzled as she watches her mother bow over and over. She has her thumb in her mouth, looking as if she has absolutely no idea what is going on. Of course she doesn’t. She’s only two years old, after all. It appears that she thinks the reason her father hasn’t come home yet is because he went to go “play” in the forest.

The girl smiles at Ms. Maria as she picks her up and sets her on the ground. They take a few steps away from the reception desk, and then turn around to give me one final bow. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” she says, and then they head out the front door of Harré.

The little girl, still holding her mother’s hand, looks back and gives us a wave. “Bye-bye!”

＊　＊　＊　＊

“That really is an adorable lykos, isn’t it?”

“I am very proud of Lala. She is the most adorable lykos in the world!”

“Nanalie, you’re quite the devoted parent, aren’t you?”

“I am no parent. I am simply devoted to Lala,” I say to Zozo. “Your Purl is quite a looker himself, isn’t he?”

Zozo’s familiar is a magical creature named “Futera Ryodari,” a winged lion. It’s a great beast with wings sprouting from its back, and it can change the length of its tail at will.

“You think so? Thanks.”

Zozo and I are riding our familiars towards the eastern forest so that we can complete the preliminary investigation for Ms. Maria’s request.

Looking down at the kingdom from above, it is quite easy to see how the realm is surrounded by the forest. Sure, it’s nice to be surrounded by such lush greenery, but when I consider the fact that demons make their homes in those woods, I can hardly be grateful for the trees that hem us in from all sides. It’s impossible to be completely at ease, knowing that we are living next to the constant threat of danger coming from those woods.

The Knights, it would seem, periodically repair the invisible magical barrier that stands between the kingdom’s edge and the forest, but on occasion that barrier is broken through, so we can’t let our guard down. Plus, while it may be difficult for demons to come out of the forest and into the kingdom, there’s nothing to prevent humans from leaving the kingdom, going into the forest, and becoming victims of demon attacks. That particular flaw in the system causes no end of trouble.

“So that’s the eastern forest, and there’s Ms. Maria’s farm, right? Look, you can see pokkels.”

I hold the map in my hands, twisting it round and round until I figure out the direction that matches up with what I see, checking to make sure all the landmarks match. Here and there across the green farmland are large numbers of ash-gray pokkels.

“All those pokkels, destined to be meat on someone’s table...”

“Speaking of which, we still haven’t had anything to eat.”

My stomach growls as I sit on Lala’s soft back, enjoying the feel of the wind against my skin. I’d entirely forgotten how hungry I was, but at Zozo’s words I felt a sudden hunger take over my body. Hunger, and an accompanying sense of despair.

Looking over at me as I hold my stomach, Zozo gives me a thumbs up and says, “I’ll treat you to dinner tonight.” She winks and smiles, and in that moment she looks practically radiant. She is so cool. I hope someday that I can be as cool a woman as she is.

“According to Ms. Maria, Mr. Gouda entered the forest from over there,” I say.

“That seems correct. There are pokkel there, and that area is right at the edge of the eastern forest. But there’s a fence—do you think the pokkel jumped over it?”

“When pokkels sense danger, they get down on all six legs and run quite fast, fast enough that they can clear trees when they jump, or so I’ve heard.”

“That must be what happened, then.”

We’ve gotten permission from Ms. Maria to be on the farm, so Zozo and I land on a bit of pasture near the eastern edge of the forest. We dismount as quietly as possible so as not to frighten the pokkels. Fortunately, the area in which we land doesn’t have any pokkels nearby. They are all grouped together in other parts of the farm, so it seems like they are actively avoiding this area.

“Perhaps they sense some foul aura from this part of the forest. Instinct, I suppose.”

“That may be right. Ms. Zozo, shall we cross over to the other side of the fence now?”

“Yes, I think—wait, what is this? Has the forest always been this creepy?”

“It is rather dark, isn’t it?”

Directly before us stands the fence between us and the forest, and coming through it, I can feel an ever so slight breeze that makes my hair stand on end. Not a single pokkel is near this part of the forest. Even though the sun is up, the air suddenly feels cold as we draw closer to the trees. I can feel gooseflesh racing down my arms, even under the sleeves of my white Harré uniform.

“Oooh,” I shiver, quickly reaching out to pick up the now-shrunk Lala and place her on my shoulder.

Zozo’s winged lion became a small cat, and jumped on top of her head to ride there. The little cat has lost all of the intimidating presence of a lion, and looks to be about one hundred times cuter than before.

“Oh, that’s right—Nanalie, would you mind noting any special features of demons that we might encounter, and write those down on the preliminary investigation forms under the ‘warnings and environmental hazards’ field?”

“Yes ma’am,” I say, pulling out the papers Alkes had handed me from the small bag on my belt. Next to the little bag hangs the Cudgel of the Goddess. I give it a little reassuring pat before opening up the folded papers.

“Let’s go.”

“Wha—!”

I just about ripped the papers in half.

“We’re already going into the forest?”

“We have to take care of this before the sun sets, you know?”

Without another word, she grabs my arm and pulls me with her towards the forest.

Zozo is silent and unswerving as we head into the woods. She’s braver than I am, that’s for sure. It’s reassuring to work at Harré with so many women who are strong in both body and mind.

Upon entering the forest, the trees and undergrowth become so thick that everything I can see is cloaked in twilight. The trees grow in close thickets, with hardly any space in the canopy for the sunlight to get through. That’s probably why it felt cold when we entered the forest.

But it isn’t just the chill air that I find unusual: throughout the whole ride here, we’d flown by many little birds, and had constantly felt the presence of some animal or other above or below us. The instant we set foot into the woods, however, all of that had disappeared. I can’t hear the call of even one bird. It’s difficult to judge whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that there’s nothing around us at the moment, considering that any noises we might hear could be made by demons. At the very least, nothing living is nearby at the moment.

Perhaps no animals make their home in this part of the woods. I pause, thinking it over some more. But even if there are demons in this part of the forest, for non-magical animals, demons shouldn’t pose any threat to them at all... right?

“Lady Nanalie, I can sense no animals nearby.”

“You’re right. I don’t even see any bugs flying around.”

“It’s odd, isn’t it?”

The farther we continue into the forest, the darker the twilight becomes, until no light at all illuminates our way forward. I hold out my arm and I can see nothing beyond my fingertips.

With a snap, I conjure a ball of light. Its warm glow spills out from right above my palm, and I let it float up to hang in the air above Zozo and me.

We should be able to see a little better now.

“All that’s left is this: the Coat of Many Colors, Paltin Teton.”

Zozo had taken a look up at my light, said “Now it’s my turn,” and cast the “Coat of Many Colors” spell on both me and herself. The “Coat of Many Colors” spell is, put simply, a bit of magic that makes one invisible. A thin membrane now surrounds Zozo and myself, and that membrane changes colors to match our surroundings. Even someone standing right next to us would not be able to see us through this membrane, so she had essentially made us invisible with this spell.

I had recently mastered this spell myself. It had been too difficult for me to pull off back in my school days, and not even Rockmann had been able to cast it. That said, most of the employees at Harré were able to use this spell, and I’d been told that it was absolutely necessary in my work duties. In preparation for the day I’d need it, I’d had Zozo teach me some tricks for casting it, and I’d finally managed to learn how.

So this is the kind of situation that they had been referring to. With an investigation like this, you absolutely needed that spell.

“Did you hear something just now?”

Zozo grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Hear something?”

“Like a rustle of something in the underbrush.”

We both stand there and look around. I dim the light a little, and we quietly search the area around us.

Then, from right before us, I hear that same small, dry rustle. We’re only fifty steps into the forest—have we encountered something already?

Zozo and I instantly crouch down where we stand, keeping a wary watch out for the source of the sound. We’re in the middle of a darkening wood. Without wind or even a breeze, not a branch or blade of grass stirs. We focus our gaze on the place the sound came from, although it’s wrapped in total darkness.

“Guhah, guhah...”

Zozo and I look at each other. What’s making that noise? As far as I know, no animal makes a noise like that. Whether or not it is an animal, however...

The ground around us is flat, without even the slightest slope up or down in any direction. I feel no animals inside this forest, and no light reaches us this deep in the woods, but I hear this strange sound—the cry of an animal? That’s about all we’ve discovered so far.

The sound is disturbing, but I know that once we identify the source of the sound, we’ll be heading back immediately. Anyway, no matter how frightened I might be, I’ll never be able to go back to Harré without knowing what, exactly, is making that sound. I’m sure Zozo will tell me everything that comes after discovering the “what” of the problem is an issue for the sorcerers to take care of, but I can’t just abandon the “how” and “why” of this mystery, for a reason—curiosity—entirely my own. I won’t do anything less than a thorough investigation.

It’s likely because of this particular trait of mine that clients sometimes tell me that I’m “going too far.”

Our role as Harré employees is decidedly not to resolve every issue that comes our way. Zozo had told me that we’re supposed to say to the sorcerers, “Take care of this issue, in this place, within this period of time.” Being an intermediary is rough.

However, if, due to circumstances beyond our control, the sorcerers face some sort of unexpected danger or new development with the request situation, they come back complaining to us at Harré. For sorcerers, who should know that they are risking their lives in their line of work, it certainly feels odd to have them complaining to us about on-the-job dangers. There are times when it feels like no matter how thoroughly we perform our preliminary investigation, our efforts will be for naught.

All we’re doing is doing our jobs, just as we believe they should be done, aren’t we? Sure, there are employees who say they “can’t take this whining” whenever they hear about another complaint from a sorcerer, but in the end, they still work their hardest for the kingdom and the other people, the sorcerers and our clients.

Our job isn’t as flashy as being a Knight, but we have something more precious that we take care of. The little people, and their little problems, down here on the ground.

Sometimes not so little problems.

“Ms. Zozo, over there, can you see those strange lights? ...Oh, they’re gone now.”

“Where?”

For just a second, I had seen strange lights.

Deep in the forest in front of us, floating in the darkness, three strange lights had glowed.

“They were three small... red, or maybe purple, lights. Forward and to our right.”

“Where now?”

“In that area,” I say, turning sideways towards her as I speak—but the instant I do so, my entire body freezes.

“GUHAH.”

A strange creature with three eyes is right behind us. From what I can see in the dim light cast by my light sphere, it looks to be about halfway as tall as a tree.

It seems like it’s a little ways away from where we crouch, but still...

“...”

...Hold on, is that a demon? A magical creature? Someone, please tell me what’s going on. Is this a demon or something else? I can’t see all of it, but I’m not quite sure. Someone... or something?

With our invisibility spells, nothing should be able to see us right now, but those three eyes are locked onto us.

“Ms. Zozo.” I try and whisper in my softest voice. I don’t want this demonic creature to notice us.

The only reassuring thing about this whole situation is that she seems to have already understood what’s going on, and is firmly holding my arm, totally still. I slowly reach around to the back of my belt and pull out the Cudgel of the Goddess.

No point in extinguishing that light above us now, I think.

“Nanalie,” Zozo whispers.

“Yes ma’am.”

“I think that’s a demon.”

She’s brought her face right up against my ear and is speaking very, very quietly. I do the same and whisper back, very quietly, “Ms. Zozo, let’s get out of here.”

“You’re right. We’ve seen enough. But before we leave, I need something that we can use for psychometry. Let’s take one of the leaves the demon is touching and bring it back to Harré with us.”

“We’ll be able to see the demon’s shape using psychometry once we get back to Harré, right?”

“Right.”

I am absolutely astonished that she is maintaining her cool in this situation.

We need to get out of here. Now.

“Ms. Zozo, I have a magic circle ready that can teleport us. Why don’t we use that to escape?”

“Isn’t that an ancient spell?”

“I had the Cudgel of the Goddess absorb the circle the other day, for a time like this.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Only those who I allow to enter the circle can be affected by the spell, so I don’t think that demon will be able to tag along if we use it.”

“Then it’s decided. I’ll cast the Coat of Many Colors on Purl in his small form, and we’ll distract the demon while he goes and grabs one of those leaves next to the demon. Can you do that, Purl?”

She looks up at the familiar sitting on top of her head.

“I can do it,” he says, and with that, leaps down from her head and quietly lands on the ground.

It’s okay, I reassure myself, no way is that demon going to notice an odd little beast like that.

“Alright then, here we go.”

I enlarge the cudgel in my hands and quickly retreat away from the demon with Zozo. I look back swiftly and the instant I do so, the demon with its strange growl charges towards us. All I can see are the three glowing eyes, so it’s difficult to tell just how close it is, but judging by the rustle of the grass and the increasing volume of that growl, I know it’s getting closer.

“Teleport!”

I pull Zozo in close and stab the Cudgel of the Goddess upright into the ground.

Everything appears to be happening in slow motion.

I focus on our destination.

Beyond the market, beneath the Royal Isle. Behind Harré, just in front of the back door. There, where only employees go in and out of the building, is where we need to be now.

“GAHGAH, grrrrrrrrr...”

The demon is trying to enter the magic circle, but it’s being repelled by an invisible barrier. Sparks fly with a zap! every time it slams into it.

Those three eyes glow ever more strangely, sizing us up. No matter how closely I look at the thing, I cannot figure out anything else about it.

“Purl! Come on.”

Purl had skillfully managed to grab one of the dead leaves in his mouth, and once I’ve verified that he’s entered the magic circle, I recite the incantation to teleport. At my incantation, the circle flares gold, and a brilliant light surrounds us.

“Wow Nanalie, this is amazing! Just what I’d expect from someone who got second place in the class rankings!”

OUCH! That hurt. Did she need to emphasize that? Is she trying to irritate me?

Those words, “second place,” lance through my heart. Zozo is caught up in all of the excitement and clapping to herself next to me. A sharper blade was never known. It feels even worse to know that she hadn’t said that with any sort of ill intent. To think that even after I graduate, all my achievements are so carefully explained and dismissed with those words... Perhaps there really is such a thing as the “curse of second place.”

It’s all thanks to that completely annoying bastard...

“I’m glad it looks like we’re going to be able to complete that request form today.”

“That is nice, isn’t it.”

And so into the light we went, leaving behind the forest.

We escaped from the forest using the magic circle, speedily, accurately teleported from the forest to Harré.

“Huh?”

“...What?”

We’ve escaped... right?

“Why’re you here?”

“Ho-hold on a second, wh-wh-why you?!”

Before me is none other than... him, my loathsome archenemy. Wearing the black uniform of the Order of Knights, his long, golden hair tied back behind his head. He has his eyes open wide and is making the face of a total idiot right now. It’s the kind of face someone makes after being awoken with a huge splash of cold water.

I guess I shouldn’t say he is “before me”—he’s actually been pushed to the floor, where he is lying down... with me sitting on top of him.

Hold on a minute, what in the world is going on here? Someone, please, explain this.

“Why, you,” I say again. My blue hair dangles down from my head to brush against his cheeks. It seems like it’s getting into his eyes, the way he squints and blinks at me over and over. “Is this a dream?” I pinch not my own, but his cheek, just to check. I yank his hair a bit, too.

Yeah, that feels like the real thing. He’s so warm, and his skin is so soft. No way is this an illusion.

He rapidly twists his arm around to grab my wrist before I poke and prod him any further. The way he grabs me feels real too.

“So this is... real?”

His shoulders seem to have gotten broader in the past six months. He’s always been strong, but he has grown so much that it no longer seems possible we were in the same class year. His face, however, hasn’t changed at all—its smooth symmetry, the bangs that covered half of it, and the red eyes that peeked out from behind that golden hair, burning with some sort of internal flame. However intense his gaze may seem, I still always feel that familiar clear and calm aura he has about himself.

“I don’t suppose you could get off me? You’re rather heavy.”

“Huh?”

“Is it really that fun to ride on top of me? I don’t mind, but I might just throw you right off.”

Flames dance at the edge of my vision.

No, anything but that.

“Ahhhhhh! No!”

I hurry to push myself up off of Rockmann. Did I make a mistake with the teleportation spell? Let’s try that again. I grasp the Cudgel of the Goddess with both hands and thrust it against the floor.

“No, stop.”

Rockmann’s come close and grabbed my arm, and now he’s the one yanking me around. With a 1, 2, 3, we’re tripping around like it’s a triple-time tango, almost about to fall over into each other again, but I steady myself and the dance is finished. That was close.

I try to break away from him. “Get away from me, I don’t want to be near you,” I say, but then the whispers that have been building up around us catch my attention. I sense someone—someones?—standing behind me, and I slowly turn around to look.

“Whoever might this be?”

“That couldn’t be Hel, could it?”

“I wonder what she’s come to do here?”

I’ve seen these women before. They’re all girls I went to school with.

“What happened with the mansion’s security system?!”

An old bearded gentleman is brandishing a pipe and yelling in my general direction. “Who is that woman?”

Next a young man speaks. “Why, this is just some commoner here to cause a ruckus!”

I feel a chill run down my back.

I thought I’d stumbled into some sort of party, and, upon calming down a bit more and looking around, I see young women and respectable ladies wearing beautiful dresses, gentlemen holding up glasses in one hand, all looking as though they had just been having the most wonderful conversation. The whole scene is quite gorgeous, really.

There are several extravagant chandeliers hanging down from the wooden ceiling, creating a dazzling effect on all those standing below. The lights of their candles are reflected in the windows, a sparkling shine from all around. Placed on the high white dining tables is an array of food so deliciously beautiful that one would hesitate to eat it. I have no idea what it might taste like. It’s certainly something I’ve never had before.

Then there’s this aroma, the subtle scent of a flower—something coming from the perfume these ladies are wearing? No, it’s more likely to be from those harunade flowers over there. That refreshing, yet slightly sweet aroma is unmistakable.

I am, at the very least, wearing the wrong outfit here. I’ve arrived at a black-tie affair in a white Harré uniform.

It seems like I really did mess up that spell, and was somehow transported elsewhere.

“I’m not... at Harré?”

The gazes of those around me, and the various emotions that charged those gazes, are all weighing quite heavily on me right now. I’ve just teleported, so I am not entirely sure about what’s all going on here, but I am undoubtedly trespassing. Conspicuously so.

And then, perhaps this is a rather obvious question, but how, exactly, did I end up here? Whose mansion is this? I’m certain that I specified Harré as the destination for the spell...

“W-wait! What? They’re not here?!”

Where’re Zozo and the others? Where did they go?

I look left, I look right, they’re nowhere to be found, in any direction, front, back, above. Nowhere.

It felt like they were teleported inside the circle with me—there’s no way that I accidentally left them behind in the forest, right? It would not be funny at all if I had abandoned them there with that monster. I feel like getting on my hands and knees, face on the ground, and apologizing until blood spills out from my forehead as I scrape it against the ground. I need to find Zozo and the familiars first, however.

“I might have left a colleague at work behind in the forest! I’m sorry, but I’m in a rush.”

Neither Lala nor Purl are within sight. What am I going to do?

I’m trying to get away from this place as fast as I can, but Rockmann drags me in the opposite direction of the exit. “Just hold on a second, okay?”

“Why? How come I have to wait for anything?” I ask, trying once again to wrench my arm away from him, but his grip wavers not in the slightest.

The only way to get out of this is going to be to freeze his hands right off, isn’t it?

...Still, no matter how one looks at this situation, the one who’s done something wrong is unmistakably me, so I can’t resort to force to get myself out of here.

Considering that I came out of nowhere, knocked him down, and crashed that whole party going on in this lovely hall, I really should be apologizing to him.

“Just who is that little girl? She’s acting awfully familiar with Sir Alois, don’t you think?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t say she’s acting ‘familiar’ at all, Mother. She’s the same age as I am; we had gone to the same school. Why, she’s just some reckless young woman who sought to challenge Sir Alois over and over. Rather impudent of her, don’t you think, Sally? They don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Yes, that’s quite true, they’re nothing of that sort. But for a commoner, she was always friendly with me, I suppose.”

“Oh, is that so? Betty, Sally, weren’t we all friends with her? I’ll admit that, from time to time, I’d seek out romantic advice from Hel, you know.”

“Lady Marge, did you really? I confess that I too sometimes asked her to explain topics from lessons I hadn’t quite understood.”

From the corners of the room, I hear the whispers swirl about me, and I nod my head in affirmation. I’m not “friendly” at all with this guy. He’s totally my worst enemy!

I’d frequently interacted with those girls who were speaking of me. We had shared the same classroom for six years, after all, so I remember them quite well. I’m not sure if they’d call me “harmless” in a situation like this, but they’d come up to talk to me about their various romantic entanglements several times, the conversation starting, every time, with those magic words: “I haven’t told anyone else this yet, but—” Mostly I’d just listened, not saying anything at all, but I think I helped them, in a way—I had always let them speak to their heart’s content.

Based on the people I see in this room, it seems like those girls are having a party with their other aristocrat friends.

“Would you—would you let go of me for a second?”

Now standing, Rockmann towers far above me. His hand is still gripping my wrist, and I notice that his thumb and middle finger are easily wrapped around it, the fingertips of both pressed firmly against each other. Not likely that I’ll be able to escape very easily. The way he holds my arm makes me feel like it’s just a stick of wood.

Even though he, as a Knight of the Order, must spend far more time out in the field than I do, his skin is so pale that I’m jealous. It seems even paler with the contrast created by the black Knight’s uniform he’s wearing. And then there’s that golden hair that looks long enough to hang down to his shoulders, carefully tied back, making him look all the more sophisticated.

In the past I’d thought that his face looked like a pretty girl’s, but now I see it’s changed to take on that special sharpness of form seen in the faces of young men, and it’s strangely dazzling to me. Dazzling.

“Um, sorry for barging in, uninvited...”

“...?”

I can’t be as stubborn around him as I used to be. Nothing good will come of it. I’ve got to grow up already, move forward, and set aside such childish antics.

I’ve never once made a straightforward apology to Rockmann for anything, so perhaps that’s why he’s looking so confused right now. He doesn’t stare at me stupidly, or seriously, or anything else, he just seems puzzled.

“But, I really do have to go—”

I’m coming, Ms. Zozo! Lala! Purl!

“Alois, what’s going on? There’s some woman causing a commotion out in front of the mansion... Hm? Who might this girl be?”

“Father.”

“Only aristocrats should be on the grounds right now. I thought that by holding this banquet you’d be able to make a good impression on Queen Corolla before you accompany her to the ball at the palace tonight... unless you’d prefer to accompany this young lady instead?”

The sudden appearance of the gentleman before us throws all my plans of escape into the wind.

This man, who Rockmann had called “Father,” is wearing indigo riding wear, sporting an impressive beard, and is handsome to boot. His hair is brown, and he hardly resembles Rockmann at all. Except for his eyes—they have that same forceful look, perhaps as a result of the dashing, manly set of his eyebrows.

Still, is this really His Grace the Duke Michael Arnold Rockmann the Third? Certainly the first time I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him.

He mentioned “holding a banquet,” which must mean this is Duke Rockmann’s mansion, right? Which means this is where he lives, isn’t it.

“Hmm? What say you, son?” Those blue eyes of his are looking rather closely at the way Rockmann (the young, idiot one) is holding my arm.

It seems that the Duke is misunderstanding this whole situation.

“It’s-it’s not that, Your Grace! You’ve completely got it wrong, no need to worry about me!”

The ladies around me had acted quite disturbed upon hearing Duke Rockmann’s words. Instantly, I feel their various gazes, soft and unassuming just moments ago, sharpen as they stare into me. Cut it out! Rockmann and I aren’t like “that.” The Duke seems amused as he sees me begin to panic. Why’s he acting all relaxed? Shouldn’t he be a little more concerned, seeing his son talk with a lowly commoner like me, with whom he might have some sort of “illicit” connection? I don’t, but still...

Rockmann, on the other hand (the younger one), still hasn’t figured out what’s going on and refuses to let go of my arm. What’s his deal?

“Ah... Father. You may say as much, but you’ve been watching us from behind that pillar ever since she arrived, haven’t you? Please, don’t be too extravagant in your jokes at my expense. Also, Hel, I believe the person you referred to as your ‘work colleague’ is likely right outside the mansion.”

The Duke mentioned a “woman causing a commotion” just a few moments ago, didn’t he?

“What? Outside?”

“This place has been charmed so that no one who is not a trusted acquaintance of the Duke’s household may enter. Should some stranger attempt to trespass, they shall be thrown into an endless maze, eventually finding their way back outside our grounds.”

“But how do you know that she’s outside?”

“I’m the one who placed the charm. The appearances of those who’ve activated it appear in my mind at the moment of attempted trespass. Your colleague is a beautiful woman with dark brown skin, right?”

What’s this charm he’s talking about? I’ve never heard of it. Is it something he made up, or has it just not ever come up in my readings?

“And just where did you learn this spell-trap?”

“Oh, I made it up myself.”

HUH? I’m so dizzy that I feel like I need to sit down. He’s making up spells for himself now too? The shock is like a punch to the head.

After graduation, everyone had gone off, so busy in making their own way in life, but this bastard has not only been appointed captain of the smallest unit of the Knights in less than a year after joining the Order, he’s also been thinking up helpful new spells on the side. He’s no longer just one rank above me, he’s off the charts. If he goes any further, he’ll achieve escape velocity and leave the stratosphere. Just when am I going to finally beat him at something?

Anyway, but what about Zozo, then? We’d both made it out of the forest, but she’d triggered the charm surrounding the Duke’s house, got lost in some dark maze, and then thrown outside the front gates?

I’m so sorry Ms. Zozo!

I’m so sorry!

I’ll never be able to apologize enough to her for the trauma she just went through.

“Du-Duke Rockmann, Your Grace, please forgive me for trespassing! I am deeply, deeply sorry! I made a mistake in a spell I cast while working, and that resulted in me crashing your lovely banquet, I am, truly...”

I finally yank my arm out of Rockmann’s grip and make a sincere apology to Duke Rockmann. I’ve lowered my head so far that I feel like I’m about to be absorbed by the floor. I don’t care for Rockmann, but the man before me, the Duke, has nothing to do with my dislike for his son.

He, surprisingly enough, makes no complaint at all as I yank free of him.

“Now, now, please, enough with all that bowing. Was that the case? With that uniform, you must be from Harré. Your appearance was a surprise, certainly, but interesting nonetheless. It seems as though you are in a hurry—are you alright?”

“I am so very sorry! Yes, I am in a bit of a rush at the moment, a demon... Never mind!”

“A demon?”

Rockmann looks at me carefully, hanging onto the word “demon” that had escaped my lips.

This is bad. I almost told everyone about what we saw on our investigation, before I’ve even made an official report at Harré.

He looks at me and asks again, “What’s this about a demon?” I turn far, far away from him, dodging the question. As if I’d ever tell you! We’re bound by a code of secrecy as well, you know.

A little while passes and he seems to give up on getting anything out of me. He no longer has that piercing look in his eyes. Not that I feel any more relaxed around him.

He is, probably due to his affiliation with the Order of Knights, a little concerned about the possibility of a demon. Demons manage to cause even the Order a great deal of trouble, so I suppose that’s understandable.

“Anyway, where had you planned on going?”

Rockmann’s eyebrows are knit close in confusion. As always, he has that sullen look on his face whenever he turns to me. For him to knit his eyebrows in that way... Wasn’t he ever taught by his parents that his face would end up like that permanently if he kept doing that? I’ve heard that one’s daily habits in youth ended up having a large effect on one’s body in old age, so he needs to be more careful about things like that.

Still, I’m not in any position to go around lecturing others; I’ve hardly ever given this guy a smile, so perhaps I’ll end up with a permanent frown on my face in old age.

“I had intended to go to Harré.”

We may have been in the same class year in school, but he’s the son of a duke. He may be my arch-rival, but he’s the son of a duke. He may be an infuriating bastard, but he’s the son of a duke.

Perhaps it’s a little late now, but I should try speaking to him more politely.

I remember what Miss Maris had told me some time ago: “While you’re at school it’s all well and good, but should you ever see Rockmann outside of school, particularly with other aristocrats around, you must take care not to speak so casually with him.”

She herself hadn’t seemed to mind at all if I spoke to her casually wherever we might be, but I had taken Maris’s words to heart. She’d said it had to do with the “rules of aristocracy” or something or other. Not that I knew what that meant, but I had understood her warning to be a serious one.

Maris, it’s okay that I snapped at him earlier, right? I’m speaking very politely now, so it’s all good... right?

“Hmm, really?”

Rockmann raises an eyebrow at my reply, and then in the next instant that unpleasant sneer sneaks across his face. What a bastard he is. Making fun of my mistake. If you weren’t the son of a duke, I’d take your pretty face, your perfect grades, your successful career, and shove it right into your BASTARD—

I clearly don’t have much to say to him. All I hear in the back of my mind is the far-off whinings of some loser. Whoever could that be?

Anyhow, I don’t want to appear any more pathetic than I already am, so I refrain, just this once, from cursing him out then and there. Anything I might say, of course, would be true—but still, I refrain.

“I’d intended on going to Harré, but somehow I ended up here.”

When we’d teleported using the magic circle, I’m sure that I’d been thinking of Harré. In the “Book of Spells,” it had said to “turn your mind away from all other worldly concerns and focus all your heart and mind on the thought of your destination.”

Hadn’t I done just that?

I’d done nothing other than think of...

“Alright second-place!”

“...”

Nothing other than...

“Alright second-place!”

“...”

Nothing other...

“Alright second place!”

Nothing...

“...What have I done?!”

I fall down on my knees.

I put both of my dirty, dirty commoner hands on the beautiful marble floor, and without letting a single tear fall, begin to cry.

It was definitely that moment.

That moment when, at the very last second before we teleported, my heart had been broken by those two words Zozo had said: “second place.”

And then of course, like any other natural phenomenon, his face had appeared in my mind’s eye. All those horrible memories of him back during our school days. I’d been so thoughtless that it had taken me this long to realize my fatal mistake.

What an utter failure I am! How can I be this stupid? I had been concentrating so hard, and to have been done in by something as small as those two words... If my life had been in mortal danger, how would it have all turned out, making a mistake like that?

“I understand now,” I say.

“?”

“When I teleported, I thought of this young man... Sir Alois. I believe my mind wandered and I—I thought of him when I cast the spell.”

“Oho, is that so...?”

I slowly stand back up and turn back towards the Duke. The Duke nods his head upon hearing my words and strokes his beard. That really is quite a wonderful beard.

“...Hold on, don’t you think there’s another way you could have said that? Father is massively misunderstanding what’s going on because of what you’re saying. You’re you, after all, so I’m sure it was just you thinking of something stupid, as usual.”

Rockmann, who’s been standing next to me—well, I suppose it’s a little confusing to say “Rockmann,” as there are two of them right nearby, so I suppose I’ll refer to him as “Alois” here... No, I can’t do that. I just don’t like it. I don’t like calling people by their first name. I hadn’t even ever called Satanás by his first name back when we were at school! I’m not using his first name, not here, not in my thoughts, not ever.

Rockmann’s looking at me with his arms folded.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything stupid at all! It was something extremely serious, a truly pressing concern of mine.”

“I told you, try to phrase it some other way, would you? It’s pathetic how truly idiotic you are.”

“...”

This guy’s so thick, he must have a skull made of iron. I can feel, every so often, one of the veins on my forehead pop in frustration at this bastard’s bullshit.

Stay cool, Nanalie, stay cool. Retort something clever back now, and you’ll be made fun of as just another commoner without any common sense. You’re already trespassing, and starting an argument would be going overboard. I am such an idiot. Still just a mage-in-training, a new employee at Harré. I’ve done something horrible to Ms. Zozo, too. I really need to sit down and reflect on all the poor choices I’ve made. Alone.

“Duke Rockmann, Your Grace, while I can’t say it is enough to make up for what I’ve done, if you wouldn’t mind, would you please take this as a token of my sincere regret? It’s nothing at all suspicious.”

I take out a single piece of yellow paper from the small bag around my belt and hold it out to the Duke.

“Mm? This is an ancient magic circle, I believe.”

“It is a spell of Absolute Defense. It can only be used once, but it creates an unbreakable barrier that none will be able to get through. With this, you won’t have to worry if someone like me comes trespassing into your mansion.”

“Even so, drawing this circle required an extraordinary amount of time and effort, did it not?”

“...”

I look right at the magic circle as he says this to me, softly, calmly. I’d drawn it up to use someday. I had made another one that I’d had the cudgel absorb, but just to be absolutely sure, I’d made an extra.

“My sons are all outstanding. Forgive me for saying this, but they are all good-looking as well. They have immense natural talent with magic. The fact that they can do anything they set their minds to works in their favor as well. Talented and intelligent.”

At first I thought he had just decided to start bragging about his sons, but at some point I understand that this is the preamble for something else, so I sit quiet and listen close. There’s nothing disagreeable in his words (everything he says is true, in fact), so I say not a word as I hear him speak.

He, on the other hand, seems to find being praised in front of other people an awkward affair, because he’s wandered a bit away to start drinking some fruity liquor-thing that had been on a nearby table.

Excellent, I’ve discovered another weakness of his. He gets embarrassed when his parents praise him. Interesting.

“Perhaps it is because I have such sons that I know that, within just a few minutes since our meeting, you are possessed of great spirit and ability. I’ve heard you were a student who was once a ‘bad-mouthed sore loser’ from Alois, but here you are, a nice young lady full of ambition.”

I’d begun to smile a bit at hearing him praise Alois, but what he says about me makes me freeze with my eyes wide open.

“Sore loser, bad-mouthed, student.”

I glare at Rockmann. What the hell is that bastard doing, talking about me to his parents?

“Sore loser,” “bad-mouthed...” Good grief. Well, I suppose those things aren’t “inaccurate,” but surely they’re nothing to write home about. To think that someone’s parents—and not even my own!—think of me that way is rather discomforting. Extremely discomforting. Just standing here is uncomfortable. How am I going to sleep after finding this out?

I’ll remember this, bastard. You watch your back when you go down dark alleys at night.

That idiot, who’s on the receiving end of my harsh glare, acts like he has no idea what I’m angry about and gives me a yawn. And then, as if he’s finally found what he’s been looking for, he walks away, saying “Hey there, Shelly,” leaving me alone with his father. What a lecher.

...Hm?

Just a minute. The Duke said that he’d heard I was a student who was a “bad-mouthed sore loser.” But he also said that he hadn’t known my name, or met me before. How could he have known that I was the student that was a “bad-mouthed sore loser” that Rockmann had been referring to?

“Please, take good care of this magic circle.”

He rests his hand on his chin for a few moments, then hands me back the paper with the magic circle on it.

“But, Your Highness...”

“Now, I won’t say that I’m going to ask for something else instead, but I don’t suppose you’d mind if I asked you for a favor?”

With Rockmann gone, the Duke and I are alone, well away from everyone else.

“A favor? Whatever might that be?”

“Could you, well, sneak into the ball that’s being held at the palace tonight?”

“...Excuse me?”

I think I’ve just realized what he asked me to do, so I ask him again.

“Sneak into... the ball... at the palace?”

I don’t understand what he’s going on about, so I freeze up for a few moments, puzzling it over.

“There’s something I’d like to check. I was just about to ask someone else to do it, actually.”

The Duke is completely ignoring my confusion as he goes on talking. I said earlier that the Duke doesn’t resemble Rockmann, but I take that back. It isn’t in how they look, but there is definitely something that is the same in both of them.

“Check something...? To what might you be referring?”

“I can’t tell you that, but would you mind just doing as I ask?” He winks. “Please?”

I wish I had the courage to say “no” to a duke’s request. I thought I’d offer to do something as an apology for disturbing his party, but I’m positively terrified at the idea of that “something” being sneaking into the ball at the palace. Sneaking into someone else’s house? Not for me, not ever. Why would he want me to do so in the first place? He evaded the question when I asked him earlier.

The people nearby are looking at us suspiciously as we stand whispering to each other. Mostly looking suspiciously at me.

But among those staring at us, not a single one of them is a young woman.

The instant Rockmann had separated himself from me, all of the beautiful young ladies had, as one, gathered together around him. I think that was the first time I’ve ever felt grateful to him. It is quite a bit more relaxing not to have all those women staring at me.

Still, shouldn’t I be trying to leave here as soon as possible to find Ms. Zozo and return to Harré...?

The Duke sees me trapped in my discomfort, pulls out his own white handkerchief, and casts a spell on it. It slowly, gently floats over to me to stop right before my eyes, and I see that words are being written across its surface by the Duke’s spell. I can’t read what he’s writing because the handkerchief is slowly billowing in the air, but the Duke leans in to whisper in my ear, “Come to the place I’ve written on the handkerchief.”

“I have work, so it’d be difficult for me to come early. Is that alright?”

“Come before the bells chime for the Evening Star, and we’ll have enough time.”

“Is that so...?”

I finish working before the bells toll for the Evening Star. When the bells ring, it’s usually around the time that most people, in normal households, are beginning to eat dinner. Perhaps even a bit later than when they begin to eat dinner. I’m on the day shift, so I finish working at dusk. I’m home before everyone else starts eating dinner.

“Shall I call for the woman you mentioned earlier?”

“What?”

The Duke snaps his fingers with both hands. From the ceiling, with a loud thump, someone falls.

“Ms. Zozo?!”

“Nanalie—! You’re alright! I was so worried!”

“Ms. Zozo!”

It was Ms. Zozo that had fallen from the ceiling.

Lala and Purl are with her. I embrace her, asking her if she’s injured, halfway sobbing all the while. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I say over and over.

“If you’re going to apologize that much, I’m going to start feeling guilty, you know, and I’m not even mad at you!” she says in response, flicking my forehead.

The Duke takes the two of us, illegally trespassing as we are, to the front gates of the mansion, and sees us off as we head towards Harré.

I’d checked with the Duke one more time before I left. “Am I good enough for what you want to do? Surely there is some aristocrat woman more suited to this than I, a girl you just met.”

I’d taken the white handkerchief and put it into the little pouch on my belt.

“You’re more than good enough,” he’d said, “you’re exactly the right one for the job.”

What in the world had he meant by that?

We’ve finally made it back to Harré.

I clap my hands together in awe, looking around to see that we’ve safely arrived at our destination. Just a few moments ago, when I’d tried to return from the mansion by getting on my familiar, Zozo had stopped me, saying, “Don’t give up. Why don’t we try that one more time?” I’d taken out the cudgel once more, activated the magic circle for teleportation, and now here we are, back at Harré.

The spell worked! I’m so full of relief and satisfaction that I grab onto Zozo and give her a tight hug.

“You came at me so quickly, I thought you were a beast!” she said, laughing. Zozo is an amazing co-worker. She may be shorter than me, but I look up to her, I really do.

I’m just about to apologize to her for everything, but before I can, I feel my lips being sealed with magic. I can’t even let out so much as a groan through her seal.

“So this is the leaf it touched then, yes?”

Mr. Alkes looks closely at the brown leaf he has in his hand. Holding just the stem, he swirls it round and round.

“Ms. Zozo’s Purl took this one from underneath the demon as well,” I say, holding out another dry leaf to him. He turns to take the leaf from me, comparing the two. He had been holding a brown leaf, and the one I’ve just given him is green.

It seems that in order to be absolutely certain we got a leaf the demon had touched, Purl had grabbed two. What a perfect familiar. Just what I’d expect from Ms. Zozo’s winged lion; he does everything right, just like she does. But Lala’s pretty awesome too, you know! ...Hold on, who am I competing with right now?

“With two leaves, we’ll probably be able to see it pretty well.”

We are, right now, in Harré’s backyard. This is the place where employees come to hang out on their breaks. There are chairs made out of small logs, cloth hammocks large enough for someone to lay down on, a water fountain, and a whole lot else, all perfect for resting our tired bodies.

This is where I had tried (and failed) to come using the magic circle. Not like I have anything to hide about that. Still, the fact that I failed makes me want to shrivel up into some corner. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me and see how stupid I’ve been.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I say to Alkes, gesturing towards the leaves.

“We’re counting on you, Alkes.”

“You can leave it to me, Zozo.”

Zozo and I had come here to ask Alkes to perform a psychometric analysis on the leaves. He’d just started his break. When we’d arrived back at Harré, there hadn’t been many clients or sorcerers inside the building. It seems that the rush hour has already come and gone for today.

“What d’you think will show up? Exciting, right?” Zozo looks over at me, eyes flashing with anticipation.

“Assistant Director Alkes,” I say, “please begin.”

“I’m not the ‘assistant director,’” he mumbled back.

All around us are other Harré employees. We’ve drawn quite the lively crowd, and their black and white uniforms shift as they draw closer in to see what we’ve got.

They’re all the people who couldn’t catch a break during the rush hour. Now that work had slowed down, it seemed that they’d all been airing their grievances about this sorcerer or that client while eating lunch together. There were a couple of people walking around munching on food they held in one hand, pointing at the leaves with the other.

I’d really, really like to eat something right now. Until we got the request forms finished up for Ms. Maria, however, I didn’t think I could allow myself to kick back and enjoy a nice meal.

She’d left Harré with her small child walking beside her, but on her way out, for some reason she seemed smaller to me than her daughter. Confronted with the disappearance of her husband, she seemed to have shrunk into herself.

“The bugs’ve gotten to these leaves,” Alkes says, placing them carefully on the ground before him.

Everyone is gathered around, looking at them closely. They seem like two entirely ordinary dry leaves. Even I, who knows where they’ve come from, find it hard to believe that there’s any sort of important information hidden inside of them.

“I certainly would like to be able to perform psychometry myself one day soon,” I say wistfully, shaking my head.

“That’s the spirit. Let’s practice together, yeah?” Zozo pats me on the back, encouraging as always.

I still can’t perform psychometry, receptionist-in-training that I am. Zozo herself doesn’t seem to be that skilled with that line of magic, so we had decided to let Alkes, who’s actually rather talented with this sort of stuff, take care of the spellwork for us.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed that we’d brought back more work for someone else to take care of. And to think, not only were we asking him to do the psychometry for us, but he sat at our reception desk the entire time we were gone, taking care of all our work...

When we had come back, however, and I’d been very apologetic about making this additional request of him, he told me that it wasn’t “a personal matter,” so I should feel free to ask for help when I needed it. Sure, it seemed like everyone working at Harré took part in whatever project happened to be going on at a given time, but to have him say that directly to me had made me feel much better.

But I don’t want to become someone who’s always asking others for help. I want to be someone who is asked for help. I want to be that kind of mage, that kind of person.

“Alright now, everyone step back a little.”

Alkes motions for the gathering crowd to move back, and then he takes his index finger on his right hand and points it straight at the leaves on the ground.

The caster cannot look away from the object of the spell.

He twirls his finger around and around, counterclockwise, and begins chanting the incantation.

————— Po!

A little while passes, and then a small light materializes directly above the leaves. It’s a light smaller than the tip of my pinky finger. The light slowly grows larger and larger, then contracts to become small again, letting out a black mist that expands out into the air. It looks like fog.

The cloud of mist grows larger and larger, until it takes on the shape of something else.

“Nanalie, are those the three eyes you were talking about?”

One of the other employees, the bespectacled Ms. Harris, taps my shoulder and nods at the mist.

“Yes, those are them. Three, horizontally aligned.”

The demon’s shape isn’t completely clear yet, but three magenta spheres floated in the air, right where its eyes had been.

Alkes stops twirling his finger counterclockwise, reversing to a clockwise turn. The black mist becomes even thicker than before and takes on a defined shape.

“So this is the demon?” Alkes stops moving his fingers.

Before us is the shape of a large, black, four-legged creature. Its body looks like it has the ability to walk on two legs as well. Where its face should be, I see three points of light. Its tongue is monstrously long, extending down to its chest. On either side of its head are two sharp “ears” that have shapes like nothing I’ve ever seen. Its teeth are fangs, and two stick out from each edge of its mouth. On its—skin? hide?—I see nothing that looks like hair, only this glistening texture. It doesn’t so much catch the light, so much as the light sticks to it, and it seems like touching it would feel rather sticky as well. Of course, we can’t actually touch this image, so we can’t be sure about that.

Anyway, if I had to sum it up in a word:

It’s disgusting.

“That’s a tongue like you see on a human corpse.”

“A corpse has a tongue like that?”

Alkes has one hand over his mouth, and nods. “Yeah.”

A human tongue?

That sounds rather... disturbing.

A corpse?

“Well maybe not that long, but... One time, when I was out on a preliminary investigation, I came across a human corpse. The corpse was hanging vertically up in the air, tongue lolling out, and it was pretty nasty. Wasn’t weirdly long like this demon’s tongue, but that certainly looks like a human’s dead, nasty tongue.”

“What about other animals?”

“The shape is different. Get a closer look. See how round and thick its tongue is? Look at each others’ tongues and you’ll see what I mean.”

Just as he had said, Zozo and I turn to face each other and stick out our tongues.

I suppose he’s right. The demon’s tongue looks a lot more like a human one than that of a lynx, a phoenix, or a winged lion.

“Pretty sure you all know this, but demons don’t have a specific set of characteristics. Could say the same thing about humans, of course. While their skeletal structure may be the same, their faces are different, some are short and others tall, and they all act differently and have different magic types. That’s all we know about demons. Except for that one, defining feature: all of them can use that unique, specific type of magic they have. It’s that kinetic force they possess within them that allows them to use their sinister, demonic abilities. It’s because of that unique feature of theirs that anti-demon spells exist, and while they may not look the same, their colors never differ: a dark, corrupt green intermixed with ash. It’s unique enough to distinguish them from all other creatures.”

“Would the demon before us be a ‘standard’ specimen, then?”

“Well, yeah, no question about it.”

Then, barely seconds after he finished speaking, Alkes reaches his hand out to grab one of the snacks a nearby employee had been eating and begins shoving it in his own mouth. It’s a bit gross to just gobble down what someone else had been eating, no...? Is he simply impolite? Bold? A total slob? The employee who he’d stolen the food from looks at him in complete disbelief, stunned that Alkes has just stuffed his face with the food without so much as a “thank you.”

Well, we did ask him to do this in the middle of his lunch break, so he was probably quite hungry after all that spell work. Speaking of which, I’m rather hungry myself, but I’m not about to go eating other people’s food.

“But Alkes—don’t you feel like you’ve seen a demon like this before? I know that demons don’t all have a specific shape, but just looking at it... I feel like I recognize it.”

“Hm? Yeah... yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Ms. Harris is tilting her head to one side, deep in thought. Alkes chews on that idea for a while, nodding to himself every so often, sometimes appearing as though he is right on the edge of remembering something. Everyone else around us looks as if something is on their minds as well, all of them deep in thought.

I must admit, there is something about this demon that... makes me feel as though I’ve seen it before. Not physically, of course, but in a picture or something.

“That’s right, could it be from that? Dr. Aristo Pyguri’s research paper.”

Zozo claps her hands together as she reminds us all of that paper.

Dr. Aristo...

He’s that guy who researches demons, right? He’d released the results of his research last year, if I remember correctly. The title had been...

“Lifeforms Full of Wickedness and Evil: Grotesque Beings Different from Magical Creatures.”

“The creatures we call ‘demons’ are true to their name—they are grotesque beings, existences that twist the very definition of what it means to be ‘alive.’ They are monsters that threaten our way of life and cause disasters that endanger our very civilization. They are, truly, ‘Creatures of the Devil.’ Thus, demons.

“Distinguishing them from magical creatures may seem difficult at first, but it becomes easier when one compares parameters such as lethality, physical traits, and magical ability.

“Classifying demons themselves into different types, however, is a futile pursuit. The one thing we know about them is this: demons live by consuming those with magical ability. That is why they attack and eat both humans and magical creatures. They do not consume grass or anything else that is not touched by magic.

“The purpose of this research was to discover how, precisely, demons come into existence. To find the answer, I dissected the corpse of a demon.

“The results of that dissection would have shocked anyone: the demon I cut open had formerly been a human.

“It is not clear whether or not a sudden transformation had occurred to make a human into this demon. Upon first viewing the demon, I believed there to be no possibility that the creature had once been a human, given that the structure of its body was clearly that of a four-legged beast. It had sharp fangs and a green and sticky hide.

“But during the course of the autopsy, I observed that the internal organs and genitalia were those of a sort only seen in humans. In the judgment my team and I made, a male human had transformed to become the demon we were investigating.

“The bones were unmistakably those of a human. The thing seemed to have forcibly altered the bone structure of the original human to make itself walk on all four legs.

“We still do not know how this particular demon came to take on its grotesque form, but we do know this: it is no longer so strange an idea to think that the things we call ‘demons’ are actually creatures that we humans, wielders of magical powers, become.”

Along with the rest of his research, he’d included that picture of that disgusting shape of a demon. Well, it wasn’t so much a picture as much as it was a thoughtograph, but the idea was the same.

Even if we ignore the length of the tongue and the fact that the demon before us isn’t black, per se, we can’t deny that it is a perfect match with the demon that Dr. Aristo had described. The Doctor hadn’t discussed anything about the eyes in his paper, but in the picture, there had been three of them.

“I suppose it’s the same as the one he dissected, then?”

Zozo’s words startle me.

Once I begin thinking of the creature floating in the air before us as not a demon, but a “former human,” it all becomes too scary, too quickly. An existence no different from our own, suddenly and forcibly altered into that disgusting creature... I imagine such a transformation happening right before my eyes. What I imagine is obscenely graphic enough to make me shudder at the thought of the reality of such a transformation.

Everyone around us lets out a sort of desperate laugh, as if to dismiss Zozo’s suggestion, but on their faces are not expressions of mirth, but hard grimaces. No one finds it easy to completely discount the possibility, it would seem.

But, even if that is the case... if this demon is a “former human,” who was it?

The identity of the formerly-human-demon that had been discovered by Dr. Aristo had never been determined. At the time of his research, it appeared that he had made efforts to discern who it had been by going through missing person reports, but with all the requests Harré received, and reports from other nearby countries, there were at least several hundred cases of missing persons each year, so there was no information to be had on that front. Conducting an investigation beyond the borders of our own kingdom is difficult in the best of times, and with a case like this, nothing of use seemed to have come up in their search.

“Let’s get this on a thoughtograph for now.”

Alkes transfers the demon’s shape from the air to a piece of paper, then hands the paper to me. I guess he wants me to include this picture on the request form. We know nothing about it other than what it looks like, so I suppose it’s important to include. I thank him, then show Zozo the paper. She gives him a look of admiration, smiling. “You’ve always been a rather handy man to have around, haven’t you? Thanks for this,” she says, putting one arm around my shoulders.

“Nanalie and I are going to head inside to write up the request form. Once we’ve gotten that done, we’ll have the client check the details so we can post it up on the notice board, but we’ll need to have the Director take a look at this as well, won’t we?”

“The Director?” I ask, confused. “Why would the Director need to see this?”

She steps away from me to go open Harré’s backdoor, then beckons for me to follow her inside.

“I haven’t told you yet, have I?” she says, then lifts her index finger up in the air. “Here at Harré, whenever we get a request that deals with... something that could pose a threat to the kingdom, like a demon, we have to let the King and the Knight’s Order know about it. I suppose you might call it an agreement that we have with them. We need to keep the information between us flowing freely, for peace.”

“Is that how it is?”

“Of course we get the client’s permission before we do that, you know? We can’t just go around spreading their personal information without asking them.”

“Oh, but if that’s the case, the Director’s going to be in a very bad mood.” Ms. Harris comes up from behind Zozo and lays a hand on her shoulder, looking at me all the while. Her curly brown hair hangs around her face freely, bouncing slightly with every movement she makes, giving her the appearance of being full of energy.

I look over at her in confusion. I don’t understand. Why would the Director be angry?

“Whenever we have to make that sort of report, we have to go directly to the castle. And then, you remember, the Knight Commander and the Director don’t have a good relationship, right?”

I have no idea why she looks so amused at the idea of the Director being in a bad mood. Her eyes are practically sparkling with anticipation behind her glasses.

Still, I must say that while I have seen the Director irritated whenever the Knight Commander is mentioned in front of her, I’ve never seen them in the same room. Perhaps it’s even worse when they actually meet. The Director might not stick to the advice she’d given to me, that I should throw salt at him like he’s some monstrous bug. It might go much farther than that.

Right after that, we finally finish writing up the request form.

As an addendum to the form, we add some details about Mr. Gouda Klein’s appearance. He has short dark brown hair and a bit of a beard; he’s a large man; he was wearing overalls at the time of his disappearance; and so on and so forth—we write all the details we have about when he went missing.

We have Ms. Maria come back into Harré one more time before sunset to verify all the details of the request and have her sign off on it.

Right under “MISSING PERSON!” at the top of the request is written, “Warning: Emergency Request Involving Demons.” The sorcerers will be chomping at the bit to get at this request. We might even find someone to take the request today, if we’re lucky.

Just as she’d said, Ms. Maria comes back around dusk. Once we tell her that there was a demon in the Eastern Woods, she seems both surprised... and satisfied with our explanation.

Satisfied?

“Ms. Maria,” I ask her, “did you, perhaps, know something?”

It doesn’t look like it’s very easy for her to talk about it. Her face is screwed up into a grimace as she says, “sorry,” and then begins to tell us the whole story.

“I didn’t mention this the first time I came here, but the fact of the matter is that recently, the pokkels have been avoiding the fence bordering the Eastern Woods. The forest seemed to have become quieter and darker than before, and I’d spoken about this with my husband a number of times in recent days. But no harm had come to either the pokkels, ourselves, or the fence, so we decided to let the forest be the forest and ignore it for the time being. Then, when my husband first told me that a pokkel had run away, I hadn’t understood how or why it would.”

She signs off on the forms. “I wonder... will someone actually find him...?” The words slip from her mouth in a whisper. But then, not a second later, she says, “If I don’t believe he will be found, who will? I have to be hopeful.” She seems quite lonely in this moment.

Anyone else would feel the same in her situation, I think, furrowing my brow in concern.

If it were my own family, I’d be beside myself with worry. I wouldn’t be able to hold myself together for even a single day, let alone be strong enough to take care of a little child at the same time. It’s already been a day and a half since he went missing, and while I can see her smiling down at her daughter every time she asks for attention, I can tell she’s pushing herself quite hard to do so.

Isn’t there still an unsolved case involving a disappearance in the Northern Woods as well? Just thinking about that makes me even more uneasy.

“While I cannot simply tell you that ‘everything will be alright,’” Zozo says to her softly, “all of us are hoping for your husband to come back home safe and sound. All we can do is leave the rest to the sorcerers.” Zozo gives Ms. Maria an encouraging smile from her seat across the reception desk.

So that’s how it’s done.

“Will someone actually find her husband?”

After Ms. Maria has gone home, I am muttering to myself as I look over at the notice board with the request form that has “MISSING PERSON!” written across the top. Zozo’s next to me, so I suppose I’m not actually muttering “to myself,” and she answers my question anyway.

“This is just something we have to let the sorcerers take care of,” she says.

The rays of the setting sun come in through the windows of the building. Zozo and I, both watching the red light of the sunset, let out a sigh.

“Nanalie, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? I promised to treat you earlier, so let’s go out tonight.”

“Sure. ...Wait.”

My stomach growls.

“What’s the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, just that I realized that I have something else I absolutely need to take care of tonight, so I can’t go out with you, unfortunately.”

“Well that’s okay, I understand... but aren’t you starving?”

I have my secret rendezvous with the Duke tonight.

“I’m fine.”

I still have a bit of time before the bells for the Evening Star chime, but not enough to have a meal. Well, actually I suppose I do have enough time, but I’d really rather prefer to eat my fill after I’ve gotten everything else done. I don’t want to turn down Zozo’s invitation, but in this case it can’t be helped.

I remember that I haven’t taken a close look at the handkerchief the Duke had given me yet. He’d told me to “come here,” so that must mean he wrote the location on the cloth.

Carefully, so Zozo next to me can’t see, I slowly pull the handkerchief out of my belt pouch. Very quietly, I unfold the cloth to read what it says, and on it is written: “the rear entrance to my mansion.”

“There’s something I’d like to check,” I remember him saying, “I was just about to ask someone else to do it.”

What had he meant by that? The whole way he had acted back then made it seem as though he had just thought of the idea. Whatever this ended up being, it was sure to be a load of trouble.

Even so, I am happy to be asked to do something, so while it certainly feels suspicious, I want to do whatever he needs, and do it perfectly.

But good grief, nothing good ever happens when he is involved, that’s for sure. (I’m just going to ignore the fact that I was the one who had barged in on his party.)

I don’t have time to eat, so I guess I’ll be going as I am now—hungry.

“Hey, Nanalie?”

“Yes?”

“The place that we teleported to today—that was Duke Rockmann’s residence, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m so jealous of you! His son was in the same grade that you were, right? What a good friend to have.”

“No! You are completely mistaken! He is not my friend!”

“Wha—? Really?”

After we’d gone through that whole teleportation business, she hadn’t asked me anything about my mixup, simply telling me that “sometimes these things happen” before comforting and encouraging me despite my mistake.

She still seems to find it strange, however, that we ended up teleporting to a place like that. “For thoughts of him to have crossed your mind while you were concentrating that hard, I thought that you two must have quite a good relationship,” she says, looking over at me in confusion.

“You know, he and I are actually...”

I don’t have anything in particular to hide about my relationship with Rockmann, so I tell her everything. If I tell her all the details, maybe she’ll have some advice to offer about my situation.

I tell her everything, about how offensive that term “second place” is to me, how he is my mortal foe, and all that happened when we were students.

“So that’s the kind of life you had back at school,” she says, nodding her head in understanding. She’d listened patiently and quietly the entire time.

Whenever I’d tried talking about this subject in the past with Nikeh, Benjamine, Maris, or any other of my friends, they’d just dismissed me with “Okay, whatever,” or “Anyway, getting back to Satanás,” or “I simply can’t bear to hear anymore!” Their refusals to take me seriously had several times sent me to bed sobbing my eyes out. Basically, they hadn’t cared about the issue at all. Benjamine had thought that I was trying to talk about “romance” every time that I brought him up, and had always changed the subject to be about Satanás. While I did enjoy her cute little love stories about the two of them, every time she ignored my very real problems to change the subject back to her crush, she was essentially asserting that what I had to say was less interesting than a story about Satanás tripping in the hallway.

Perhaps it’s because she’s the first person to ever listen to me talk like this, from beginning to end, but right now, Zozo appears to be as radiant and lovely as a goddess.

“Moral support” is truly necessary to make one’s way in this horrible world.

Starting today, I’ll be a devoted member of the Church of Zozo.

“So he’s just basically your friend, right?”

“NO!”

I’m leaving the Church.