The Cerulean Leprechaun
The Cerulean Leprechaun
-girl’s pride-
1. Chtholly Nota Seniorious
What am I? Chtholly thought.
It was a question that had been coming to mind more frequently as of late.
She was a leprechaun: a spirit of the dead who could not stay dead. An unliving life-form. A weapon that discarded her entire being to fight for those who did have proper life.
The dug weapon deemed compatible with her was Seniorious. She was fifteen years old. She had been born in a forest on Island No. 94.
And it was just the other day that her first unrequited love began.
This is the tale of that season in her life.
—Could I really get stronger?
—I will make you stronger, even if you don’t want to. That’s my responsibility as a manager.
For a little while after she woke up, Chtholly Nota Seniorious had been unable to get out from under the covers. Countless times, she wriggled her body around, burying her face into her pillow.
That…wasn’t a dream, was it?
She asked herself that countless times. And whenever she did, she told herself over and over: It’s okay; it’s okay.
Yesterday—which now felt like an eternity ago—on the hill, beneath the starry sky, surrounded by a sea of glowing talismans, she had made a promise to him. She promised that she would win her battle and come back alive, and then she would eat butter cake.
When she thought back on it now, the whole thing seemed so romantic.
It had been such a whimsical moment.
The conversation they’d had was… Well, it wasn’t all that romantic or whimsical. But she had gotten the message that there was someone who thought dearly of her.
“…Hee-hee.”
When she thought back on it, she couldn’t help the grin on her face.
“Heeey.”
There was a knock at the door.
She heard Willem’s voice.
“Huh? H-hello?!”
“Hey, you up? Come out—it’s time for your morning workout.”
“…Huh?”
Still hugging the pillow, Chtholly grew embarrassed.
She leaped out of bed in a rush, then threw a cardigan over her shoulders on top of her pajamas. One peek in the mirror showed she had the most magnificent bedhead, and in shock, she hurriedly ran her hands through her hair to tame it back down. She adjusted her appearance so that she was just barely presentable, making compromise on compromise on compromise, then figured that was good enough for now.
She opened the door slightly.
Willem stood there, wearing a drab training outfit, several sticks he must have found on the ground tucked under his arm.
“Yo, morning.”
“G-g’morning… Um, what did you mean by workout?” she asked.
An exasperated look crossed Willem’s face. “I thought I told you yesterday that I’m gonna make sure you get stronger even if you don’t like it.”
“…Wait, what?”
“So put on some clothes that are easy to move around in, and let’s meet in the back. Not like we need to keep this secret, but y’know how it is when there’re a lot of people around.”
“Huh? Wh-whaaat?”
Klack klunk ka-la-ka-lu-klack.
The crisp noise of dried branches smacking against one another echoed throughout the forest clearing.
To someone listening, it sounded a bit like an energetic early-afternoon recital. But to the performers themselves, the reality wasn’t nearly so tepid—they were desperate.
To the right, the lower right, diagonally up and to the left, straight ahead, and a slight twist—oh, no, it was to the right again.
She used the stick in her hand to block, deflect, parry, and dodge the other stick that was attacking her freely from all directions. It wasn’t easy. What she had to pay attention to when she took care of one attack was the next one coming after it. She had to maintain her stance. She couldn’t make a full strike. She couldn’t stop moving, and she couldn’t disrupt the flow she’d created for herself with her body.
It was hard to time her breathing right. It was hard to judge when she could take a breather. It was hard dividing her attention. If she had to lump everything together, then she would say it was difficult to control her body in so many different ways. There was so much to think about that there was no time to think at all so she had to move before she could even think but Willem’s movements were getting faster and sharper and she was already at full capacity trying to keep up with him but she was getting close to her limit and she really didn’t have any time to think—Ah, ah, ah—
Kla-lak-lak-lak-lak-lunk!
“Ah—”
All of a sudden, her knees gave way.
She felt like she was floating. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t get back up. Her stick grew nearer, everything looked askew, and—
—she fell over magnificently.
Though the ground beneath her was soft, her back, which had rammed right into it, was in pain.
“Your movements as a whole are good, but the way you shift your weight isn’t quite there yet.”
The young man’s voice was blank.
Willem Kmetsch stood there, the blue sky behind him. As he looked down on her, tapping his stick lightly against his shoulder, he showed no signs of exhaustion at all.
“Your hands and feet were moving completely independent of each other, so your torso was totally at their mercy. You should first learn how to divide your center of gravity into ‘holding’ and ‘throwing’ movements.”
“Aghhh…” Chtholly Nota Seniorious forced herself to suppress her ragged breathing. “I really don’t get what you’re saying.”
“You don’t? Hmm… Well, whether you like it or not, you’ll learn by doing.”
“I don’t get that, either.”
Annoyed, Chtholly went to pick herself up off the ground.
But it didn’t go so well.
When she sat up and tried to get herself on her feet, her knees gave out. She flipped back-first onto the ground again.
“…Wh-what’s happening?”
Of course, she was aware that she was tired.
But to put it another way, tired was all she was thinking and feeling in that moment. She wasn’t expecting her body to not obey her commands at all.
“Is this some kind of ancient magic?”
“No? I’ve simply been guiding your movements and showing you how to move in the most efficient way possible.”
He held out his hand.
She grasped it without hesitation and leaned into him.
“Effective movement also includes distributing your weight properly throughout your body. You’re using and training muscles that you wouldn’t normally use when you’re moving around carelessly, so you’re probably tired in a different way compared to when you’re doing regular training, right?”
He pulled her to her feet.
“Luckily, you have the fundamental physical strength needed. If you fill in all that room for growth with this stuff, to a certain point, you’ll get stronger very fast. If the user gets stronger, then their strength when using the Carillon will go up several times over. It’s a good sign.”
He sounded so chipper. Chtholly realized he seemed very different from how he had been just yesterday.
Willem Kmetsch was a person originally from the surface world five hundred years ago when emnetwiht culture was still flourishing. To be precise, he was never meant to be here in this age, in this world in the sky. He was now living as an empty being, his family, friends, and—it was uncertain if he had one or not—sweetheart, everything left behind in the distant past.
The hollowness of his heart was likely starting to seep out. It was only the day before that an indescribable dark light had flickered deep in his eyes. And yet—
“So you were serious when you said you were going to make me stronger…”
“What, you didn’t believe me?”
“I did, but…it didn’t really feel like it was real…”
—though it was faint, there was a definite light where he stood that was directed toward the future.
She felt a vitality that all living beings had, one that cherished the present for the future they wanted.
“Yesterday only happened yesterday, and the morning after can only be so unromantic…”
“Obviously. Romance and fantasy and stuff are ways of thinking for when you want to put more emphasis on sensibility, unlike reason and rationality. And if you’re actually aiming to claim victory over a strong enemy, then you should pursue rationality as far as you can. The most effective way of turning the impossible into the possible is evidence in new theories that show it was actually possible all along.”
“That wasn’t the kind of reasoning I wanted to hear…”
She was annoyed but still a little happy.
Willem was serious about this. He was seriously expecting Chtholly and the others to win in their fight against the enormous Six, Timere, and then come home. And he was planning on taking every measure he could to ensure that would happen.
“Well, then… Hey, you two!”
Willem looked up and gazed at a spot away from their training area.
“Huh?”
Ithea, sitting on a bench and kicking her feet, stared at them like a cat that had been suddenly drenched in water. Nephren sat beside her, staring blankly up at the clouds, and tilted her head slightly with a “Hmm?”
“Since you’re here already, why don’t you join in?”
The two looked at each other.
“Y’mean us?”
“Who else? If you’re interested, I can give you a run-through now.”
“Uh… Well, we appreciate the gesture and all, but…”
They jogged over and glanced at Chtholly, who still couldn’t stand very well.
“Are y’sure? Watching and listening in is one thing, but you’re sure this isn’t some emnetwiht secret training method that you should keep under wraps?”
Willem turned to the side and burst out laughing.
“What is it?” Ithea asked.
“Nah, I guess my master did teach this to me directly, and it wasn’t like it was widespread or anything.” Willem laughed, wiping the corners of his eyes. “Well, even if it was a secret, it’s not like anyone’s gonna complain about me teaching it to whoever I choose. If you three raise your total power as a team, then obviously your chances for survival will go up. How about it?”
Ithea looked at Nephren, who gave (what looked like) an enthusiastic nod.
Ithea then looked at Chtholly, who also nodded, as if to say, “This is important and you should definitely ask for the training but it disappoints me because that means we won’t have as much time alone together and honestly I don’t like you joining in but if I said anything you would definitely make fun of me so I can’t say anything about it.”
“Great. Then we’ll do a quick warm-up; then we’ll check your capabilities and what kind of bad habits you have.”
Willem picked up all the sticks at his feet, tossed one to each of them, then declared, “Just come at me all at once. Show me what you got.”
2. Five Hundred Years
Island No. 68, like its large number suggested, was located on the outskirts of Regule Aire.
It didn’t have even a single big city—not that being on the outskirts had anything to do with that. A large forest practically covered the island in its entirety; marshes of all sizes dotted its landscape, cutting between the gaps of the forest. And the semifer built small villages and towns alongside them, practically caught between these natural guidelines.
One of those villages was a short walk away from the faerie warehouse, right at the rim of the island.
Military regulations prohibited the leprechauns from coming and going of their own free will, but they were tacitly allowed to go anywhere within Island No. 68.
It’s also worth adding that they were allowed to use the pocket change that Nygglatho quietly gave them to purchase snacks at the local café.
“…What kind of creature was that, even?” Ithea muttered, her forehead on the table.
“Don’t ask me…,” Chtholly groaned in response, her head drooping low.
“Aah…” The third, Nephren, was leaning far back in her chair, her hollow eyes staring up at the ceiling, and didn’t budge an inch.
Their conversation abruptly came to a stop as they held their poses.
Ithea slowly lifted her head and said, “He parried all our attacks without breaking a sweat, didn’t he?”
“Yep…”
It was the truth.
Chtholly Nota Seniorious.
Ithea Myse Valgulious.
Nephren Ruq Insania.
These adult leprechauns were the current protectors of Regule Aire, and that man had easily fended off all three of them. It didn’t matter if they attacked separately, all at once, or in a coordinated strike with staggered timing; none of it worked on Willem.
“He took every opportunity to counter, and he did it constantly. And he said his attacks were arranged in a special way so we could study the correct way to dodge.”
“Yep…”
That, too, was the truth.
If they made an attack that was even slightly lacking, Willem’s weapon immediately went for them like a snake. Even though each of those attacks wasn’t particularly threatening, if they put themselves in a position that was the tiniest bit off balance in order to dodge, then they would receive the full brunt of the next attack; those offensives were very thorough in coming at them from unpleasant angles and rhythms.
And so in the long run, it forced them to always be ready to dodge an attack without it having any effect on their ability to dodge the next one. Then their bodies would eventually remember how to move like that. Willem told them that it was a crucial move when fighting against troublesome opponents.
“And didn’t he tell us he was practically dead anyway? Like, his body is so worn down that just a bit of active venenum is enough to put his life in danger?”
And that, of course, was also the truth.
Now that she brought it up, it had been only the morning of the day before when that very thing happened and Willem toed the line between life and death.
Obviously, it wasn’t like he used the whole twenty-four hours since then to completely recover. Willem Kmetsch’s body hadn’t changed—his bones were fractured, his tendons were stretched to the limit, and his guts were still in shambles. He was practically half-dead.
“I can’t figure out what kind of creature he is.”
“Yep…”
After her fourth vague answer of acknowledgment, Chtholly faintly lifted her head.
“I mean, he’s so injured, he shouldn’t be able to even sit up in the first place, venenum or no. But he said his body still remembers all sorts of movements from different martial arts, so he can move in an optimal way that won’t cause any harm to his bones and muscles, which means he can somehow get up and walk around.”
“So a slight extension of his ‘somehow getting up and walking around’ is enough to put us through grueling training?”
“Yep… I guess so…”
When Ithea put it like that, it just made her lose confidence all over again.
Willem himself said, “The most important things in a fight against people are technique and experience; you guys are specialized for battle against monsters, so it’s not a problem if you’re a little clumsy,” but be that as it may, it felt like their identities as weapons of war were in danger.
“I bet you could bury him and he’d just come crawling back out…”
“…Nah, not quite.” Nephren abruptly raised her head to look at Ithea. “He broke a long time ago.”
What she said was shocking.
“That’s how he sees it, at least. That’s why it’s going to take a lot to break him any more than that. But I know there has to be a limit. But he has us now, so—”
“Mm? Wow, I don’t usually see all three of you tired at the same time.”
It wasn’t an intentional interruption of their conversation, but that’s ultimately how the timing worked out. A lycanthrope wearing an apron peeked his head out from the back of the shop.
“We’ve got a bit of a hot-blooded teacher in the house now!” Ithea explained.
“I don’t really understand, but that sounds rough.”
He placed several glasses of juice on the table with a thunk, thunk.
“Huh? We haven’t ordered anything yet, though.”
“You look like you’re working hard, so this is for you, on the house. But it’s our secret—Don’t tell the boss, okay?”
Chtholly’s shoulders twitched in surprise.
“Oh?” Ithea uttered as she looked up.
Still emotionless, Nephren’s face lit up.
“Much appreciated. You’re a cool guy, mister,” Ithea piped up.
“Ha-ha-ha!”
With the quiet sound of a ringing bell, the door to the café opened. “All right, take it easy, then,” the staff member said before baring his canines in a grin and heading toward the front.
Though the sign outside said this was a café, there were barely any shops to eat and drink at in the neighborhood, so it met plenty of different demands—there were customers during the day who came for coffee, and they served alcohol at night.
Now, in the afternoon, there were a number of different patrons here. Some were eating; some were just having tea. Though it wasn’t exactly crowded, it was hard to say it was empty; business was flourishing. Then…
“Oh.”
…Ithea, who had been looking toward the door, sounded like she’d found something.
Chtholly turned her tired neck muscles to look in that direction.
“…Oh.”
“Heeey, you’re—”
“W-wait a second! He can’t see us like this!” Just as Ithea was about to call out to him, Chtholly hurriedly stopped her. “We’re a mess, and he’ll get a bad impression if he sees us wasting our money on food!”
“Why are you bringing that up now? He’s the one who got us into this mess.”
“I know! And you’re right! But still!” Chtholly hunched over, whispering her objections.
“Honestly, this girl. Isn’t it important to be yourself? You don’t have to worry so much; it’s not like that dum-dum dad will be disenchanted that easily, y’know?”
“You might be right, but it was really uncalled-for to call him dumb twice, and don’t call him dad! I’m not a little kid!”
“Oh right, yes. You are a wonderfully mature faerie soldier, so you don’t eat sweet things, and you don’t put sugar in your coffee, and fairy tales are for babies, right?”
Chtholly faltered.
“…And? Is there something you want to add?”
“Not reeeaaallyyy. I’m not saying starting from the superficial is bad at all.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
Just as she was about to protest some more, Nephren placed a small hand on Chtholly’s mouth.
“—Ren?”
“Quiet.”
Nephren put a finger to her lips.
She indicated toward the door with her eyes. They looked and saw Willem, who was still there, and saw—
“…Hey, I wonder who that is?”
—an ailuranthrope sitting at the same table as Willem and facing him.
He wore a white dress shirt and a deep-red waistcoat. He seemed strangely well-dressed. From the sheen of his coat, he didn’t seem that young. He must be about thirty or a little older… In terms of his life span, he must have been late-middle-aged.
“I don’t recognize him… At least, I don’t think I do.”
This village wasn’t all that big. But at the same time, it wasn’t small enough that they were acquainted with everyone. It wasn’t all that odd if they didn’t recognize someone.
“He doesn’t look like he’s from around here,” Nephren murmured, and Chtholly unconsciously nodded.
The explanation for that was simple.
Island No. 68 was the countryside, so there were barely any residents who typically wore such refined apparel… At least, there weren’t any among the people Chtholly knew.
When they happened to catch a glimpse of someone dressed like that, it was always, without exception, because they were visiting the island from the outside. And most of those people were merchants from some big company who had come to exchange goods or renew a contract.
…An outside merchant?
Unease pricked at her chest. What would someone like that want with him?
“Wonder what they’re talkin’ about.”
“Hmm…”
Chtholly strained her ears to listen in. But because of the distance between them and the quiet bustle in the shop, she could barely hear anything. What she did know was that because of that very distance and the noise, Willem hadn’t noticed they were here, either.
“I can’t hear anything. I have no idea.”
“What about you, Ren?”
“Hmm, hold on.”
Nephren closed her eyes, leaned slightly toward Willem’s direction, and concentrated her senses.
“…I can only hear a bit at a time.”
“Well, I’m not gonna expect too much out of this. Keep going!”
“Okay.”
Nephren closed her eyes again, concentrating on their conversation.
Chtholly also closed her eyes and strained her ears. She searched for Willem’s and the ailuranthrope’s voices from all the other sounds she could hear, like she was collecting coins scattered across the bottom of a marsh.
A group of tipsy semifer burst out in excited laughter at a table not far from them. Stars danced in her mind’s eye for a moment at the sudden flood of noise, and she felt a growing irritation with the laughing group boiling in her chest. She wanted to dump cold water on them and yell at them to shut up right away, but she managed to keep her composure.
“…Ask… From Island No. 48… Rare technology… Treating well…?”
In a quiet voice, Nephren mentioned only fragments of sentences.
Unease started to blossom in Chtholly’s chest.
“Ancient… Simple… Your…”
“It’s kinda hard to get the point,” Ithea said in befuddlement.
In the end, they couldn’t hear a conversation out of which they could get any real meaning.
But still, when they strung together and connected the words that Nephren heard here and there, they could imagine what they were talking about.
“I guess…he is being scouted,” Ithea murmured.
“I suppose it’s possible.”
Chtholly came to the same conclusion. Willem Kmetsch: the last survivor and remnant of the emnetwiht who had perished on the surface five hundred years ago. He was a master of various ancient technologies whose knowledge had been lost to the sands of time. He of course understood the culture, manners, and customs from the time period, and—to the trolls—the most beloved delicacy of their ancestors.
To those who knew his worth, there was no resource more valuable than him.
“I dunno where Mr. Kitty heard about him, but I guess he’s not actually supposed to be babysitting here.”
“He said ‘rare technology.’ Then maybe some kind of research facility?”
“B-but…”
Chtholly didn’t understand.
If he was to be taken away, then that very obviously meant he wouldn’t be here anymore. She couldn’t accept it; she couldn’t agree to that.
“Of course he’ll say no! He’s the second enchantments officer in the military and manager of the warehouse!”
“Well, we dunno if he will. We know the officer’s a loving guy, but if we consider his value, then we shouldn’t be surprised if he gets offered a real good deal. Maybe they slammed a whole mountain of bradal down in front of ’im?”
Ithea made an exploding gesture with her hands when she said “slammed.”
“That’s not going to happen! He wouldn’t abandon me…or either of you!”
“I guess we’ll see. Money can’t buy people’s hearts, but it sure can change them.”
“No, it can’t…”
Chtholly wanted to say it was unthinkable. And she wanted to believe that.
They had just made their promise. She had just believed that they understood each other. She didn’t want to think that their time together the night before and the feelings they had shared could be bought with money.
Indeed. That was why she would not protest the supposition that the ailuranthrope had come to recruit Willem Kmetsch. He was truly amazing. It wouldn’t be a strange thing for him to make bank.
But he would never accept something like that. He would refuse.
“We promised—” “Shhh.” “Mgh!”
Nephren’s small palm clamped over Chtholly’s mouth.
There was movement.
At the table by the door, Willem and the ailuranthrope exchanged a handshake with bright smiles, then stood.
“I guess…that means they made a deal.”
Impossible.
Chtholly held her breath.
“No…”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak.
Under the trio’s watchful eyes, including a stunned Chtholly, the two left the building.
His broad back got smaller and smaller and eventually vanished behind the door.
“Hmm… I guess you could say that was unexpected, but I guess you could also say that was expected,” Ithea murmured in an odd intonation, almost amused, almost vexed.
“Mm…”
Nephren’s brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t say any more than that. And—
“…This can’t…be real, right…?”
—Chtholly alone sat in shock.
That evening, Tiat, one of the younger faeries of the warehouse, saw something unusual in the dining hall.
The one she looked up to, the very image of the ideal faerie soldier, Chtholly Nota Seniorious, was doing something with a cup of black tea before her.
“…Miss?”
Chtholly was an adult, and adults could drink bitter things without a problem. That’s what Tiat wanted to believe, at least, and Chtholly never actually put any sugar or milk in her drink when she had coffee or tea… At least, that’s how it was when Tiat saw her.
Chtholly was putting something in her tea.
Tiat wondered what was happening and watched closely. That’s when she realized—what Chtholly was holding in her left hand wasn’t a pot of sugar. Written on the front label with a spunky, unsteady, childish hand was MUSTARD.
“…Miss?!”
As Tiat sat shocked, Chtholly lifted the cup and put it to her lips.
She suddenly stopped.
Her eyes swam. Her hands shook. She glanced furtively out of the corner of her eye at Tiat. An expression of somewhat tragic resolve crossed her face.
Gulp.
She downed it in one gulp.
“Oh wow…”
Tiat’s eyes glittered in admiration.
Sweat had started gathering in the balled fist she didn’t remember making.
She hadn’t known about that way of drinking tea. She was still a child, so she simply had no idea, but apparently, adults took their tea like that sometimes. If Miss Chtholly was doing it, then that was definitely how things were. That was how Tiat interpreted the sight before her anyway.
Without making a cry or rolling around on the floor, Chtholly gracefully—at least, Tiat saw it that way—stood up, taking the pot and cup in hand to the sink.
“She’s so grown-up…”
Tiat saw her off with a gaze of envy and respect.
It wasn’t like she actually doubted him.
Chtholly knew Willem. That’s what she thought, at least.
Even though he wondered about the strangest things and plotted the most peculiar things, he was still an honest person. It was hard to imagine that he was the type to break promises so easily or that he would betray or abandon them.
She knew that logically.
She understood that all she needed to do was trust in him, that there was nothing to worry about.
It was getting late at night.
The youngest children had gone to bed a long time ago.
With the pessimistic feelings of self-hatred, powerlessness, embarrassment, and regret weighing on her shoulders, Chtholly sat with her face on the dining-hall table.
“Is something on your mind?”
She looked up.
“Tea. The type that won’t wake you up before bed. Do you want any?”
There stood Nygglatho, a tray in one hand. When Chtholly showed her bleary face, Nygglatho winked at her.
“…Yeah.”
She could still feel the shock from the mustard in her throat. She nodded slightly as she wondered if her voice sounded strange at all.
Glug, glug, glug. She stared at the light amber pouring into her cup, like it was happening in a world far away.
“We have cake, too. I baked it earlier today. I set aside a piece for you.”
“…I don’t want any.”
“Really? It’s very good, if I do say so myself. I still have no intentions of letting Willem take charge of the children’s stomachs.”
Klunk. A plate was placed on the table.
The faint, sweet scent gently tickled Chtholly’s nose.
That smells good, she thought.
Her neglected stomach, right after getting a whole mouthful of super-spicy tea, gave a sad grumble.
“I’m not a child,” she responded, putting on a front.
“You are if you still have to say it.”
“…You’re kidding. Then how can you tell you’ve grown up?”
“Let’s see. I suppose it’s when you start genuinely saying, ‘I wish I could be a kid again.’”
How did that make sense?
If she wanted to be an adult, she was a child. And once she wanted to be a child, she was an adult. Then that just meant that no matter how much time passed, she would never be who she wanted to be.
“Why not relax just for a moment? No one’s watching. You’re still young, so what’s the point if you don’t get to act childishly every once in a while?”
“…Mm.”
Chtholly buried her face in her arms, which she had crossed atop the table, her state of mind a little complicated.
“Hey, Chtholly, do you remember Tuca?”
“Huh?” She wondered what Nygglatho was talking about all of a sudden. “Uh…yes, of course.”
Tuca Kog Rosaureum. She was a faerie who used to live here. Just as her name suggested, her compatible dug weapon was Rosaureum.
Tuca was three years older than Chtholly. She had deep-green hair with eyes of the same color. She had a wide mouth, and there was an odd sense of power about her when she grinned. She was tall, and back then, Chtholly had always seemed to be staring up at her from her feet.
And then, two years ago in a battle with Timere on Island No. 96, she’d opened the gates to the faerie homeland, and…by deliberately putting her venenum into overdrive, she’d died.
“How about Orco?”
“Yeah.”
Orco Ros Ignareo—a faerie soldier another year older than Tuca. Her compatible dug weapon was Ignareo. She had lost her life in a different battle with the Beasts just a month before Tuca did.
“Clakia. Ayol. Katariella.”
“…Yeah.”
Nygglatho listed names one after the other.
They were all the same. They were all the names of faerie soldiers who were once here, left, then never returned.
“They were all such good kids,” Nygglatho said as she poured herself a cup of tea. “That’s why, to be honest, I didn’t want to send a single one of them away. But it’s my job, so being selfish about it wouldn’t solve anything, and the entirety of Regule Aire versus just a few girls are things that don’t even need to be weighed against each other… I’ve told myself that over and over, but I was never satisfied with the answers I gave myself. Not once.”
“Nygglatho…”
“Perhaps it’s because this has happened so many times. The only thing I’ve gotten used to was sending them off, unsatisfied with why.”
Nygglatho shrugged, stuck out her tongue, and smiled sheepishly.
She smiled for Chtholly, at least.
“That’s what I was planning on doing with your battle, too. I was going to pretend to be a reasonable adult and wave you off with a smile. I was going to hide my need to sob in front of the little ones. And when I couldn’t hide it anymore, I was going to get through it by eating bears.”
“…Bears?”
That was a strange word to bring up now.
“Yes, I tried all sorts of things, but bears are the best. I forget all the bad things when I’m hunting them, they season well, and they’re very filling.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can get nutrients not just for your body but for your heart, too, from a delicious meal.”
“Wait a second.”
She had a feeling that wasn’t what they were talking about.
“In fact, I would like to eat you and all the other faeries, but that would be putting the cart before the horse. I really, truly want to eat a certain emnetwiht, but I haven’t received his permission.”
“No, seriously. Wait. I mean it.”
It felt like the conversation was steering further away from what they were originally talking about.
“…Hmm, I am hungry, after all.”
“That aside,” said Chtholly, forcing the conversation back on track. “What is it you want to say, Nygglatho? You don’t want us to go to battle anymore?”
“Hmm… That is true, but that’s not quite it.”
With a practiced hand, Nygglatho poured milk into her tea.
She stirred the tea spoon around in it, swirling white and amber hues together until they mixed.
“To be honest, it’s still hard for me to decide if I want to believe in the hope that Willem has shown you all. You might have to open the gates, but things also might get settled without that happening; I don’t know which one will actually occur…”
She lifted her spoon.
“If I get my hopes up, then it will only hurt more when they’re betrayed. In which case, it won’t scar my heart so badly if I just give up to begin with and go hunt bears. Isn’t that right?”
That was certainly correct. Besides the part about bears, Chtholly agreed.
“Do you want some, too?”
“What?”
“Milk and sugar.”
“…No.”
Chtholly looked away.
“Well, anyway…that’s how I honestly feel right now. I’m a little perplexed being suddenly presented with a hope I’m not accustomed to.”
The conversation returned to the main topic. Chtholly hummed in response.
“And I also thought that all of you, the very people this whole thing is about, must be a lot more perplexed about this than I am.”
Silence.
“The heart isn’t so clear-cut. Even when your mind chooses to believe something, the smallest ripples can still send you into a tailspin. The most inconsequential things can make you worry and worry until it seems like it’ll never leave your mind.”
Silence.
“Did something happen?”
—Oh finally, we can cut to the chase.
“…Nothing,” Chtholly responded, still looking the other way. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Then something happened that you shouldn’t be worrying about, right?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Bull’s-eye.
“And it’s worrying you, then?”
“No, it’s not.”
“You don’t need to be so stubborn.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“Someone long ago once said that the feeling of wanting to believe is simply another side of not being able to fully believe. But that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s because you’re not completely convinced that you want to know more about another person. That’s why we continue to touch each other’s hearts.”
“I’ve never heard that.”
“You want to know more about Willem, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t want—” Chtholly gulped, swallowing her words. “…Do you know something, Nygglatho?”
“Do I? I’ll have to hear what happened first, because I perhaps might not.”
Oh geez.
She couldn’t do this. She didn’t think she could win.
This was a child standing on her tiptoes next to a real adult. The outcome of this contest was obvious from the beginning.
“Just suppose,” Chtholly started, “this is all hypothetically speaking, but say, for example, someone came from another island wanting to hire Willem.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you think he would accept?”
“Hmm…” Nygglatho thought for a moment. “Do you mean, would he get up and leave the warehouse and go somewhere else?”
“Yeah.”
“Impossible, like a ballman falling over.”
Of course it was. Chtholly was the one who raised the question, but she agreed. And yet—
“But if it came with some really great conditions, then it might happen, don’t you think?”
“Hmm… For example?”
Chtholly thought for a moment, then said, “A signing bonus!”
“No way,” Nygglatho replied with a chuckle. “Don’t you see? He’s not the type to work for money.”
“……Yeah.”
Well sure, she couldn’t deny that.
“That’s not to say Willem doesn’t have any material desires, but he does have the tendency to think about separating himself from everything. That’s why Glick had such a hard time with him.”
“Then what about a—a beautiful woman or something?!”
“My. I would say that’s even less of a reason for our warehouse to lose out in his mind.”
…Well, that one was a bit hard to judge.
“Or an old friend! Or sweetheart!”
“There is no one else in this world as alone as he is. And even if he had someone like that on Island No. 28, would he leave all his beloved daughters behind just to go see them?”
Also hard to imagine.
“Why don’t you just ask him yourself? ‘Are you abandoning us just to run off to some other woman?’ or something like that. I think he wouldn’t hide a thing. He’d tell you the whole story.”
“Yeah…”
Chtholly thought that was probably what she should do; that was probably the right way to go about things.
But she didn’t think she could actually do it.
In all likelihood, it wasn’t her unease itself that held her back. She was afraid of the unease in her heart taking shape. That was why it was so hard for her to face it. She couldn’t move forward.
“Do you want milk in your tea?”
“Yeah.”
“And sugar?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want some cake?”
“Yeah.”
The tea she received was very sweet and a bit on the lukewarm side.
“…Can I ask you something?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wish you could go back to being a kid, Nygglatho?”
“Heh-heh.” Nygglatho smiled vaguely. “That’s a secret.”
She avoided the question.
Adults are so unfair, Chtholly thought. And a sad thought crossed her mind—if she was thinking that, then she was definitely still a child.
“…Sigh.”
She tossed the piece of cake balancing on her fork into her mouth.
The baked cheesecake was so sweet. A happy flavor spread across her tongue.
3. Emotions with No Name
Day two of training. The weather was cloudy.
Even though it looked like it might rain at any moment, that wouldn’t really get in the way.
She was hesitant previously, but Chtholly was still giving it her all.
She frantically tied her distracted thoughts, her wandering gaze, and disparate movements together. She collected her scattered concentration and somehow or other honed her focus.
And so training was mildly successful.
But in Willem’s training, which demanded she struggle against her limits, “mild” concentration wasn’t enough. She failed to dodge his stick and was struck right in her shoulders and side and stomach and calves—thanks to her experience, she barely felt the pain or impact, but that still wasn’t going to bring back her lost balance. With no options remaining, she had a magnificent fall.
“Let’s call it a day here, so just be sure to rest up…,” Willem said as he peered curiously at her, wondering what was wrong. “You’re working hard, but you stumble when in the critical moments. You pulled it off yesterday.”
Chtholly, unable to look at him directly, turned away.
She knew that. She was aware of that.
Willem explained “efficient movement” as something they would use reflexively once it had been hammered it into their physical memory. But before that could happen, they first had to get used to moving in that way, dedicating hours to being mindful in their movements.
In this messy situation, one where she wasn’t even sure what she was thinking about, she could only move in ways where she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing.
“You got even more to worry about today?”
When she heard him say that, blood rushed to her head.
“Sh…”
“Shhh?”
Shut up honestly I can’t believe YOU of all people YOU are asking me that because yes I have more to worry about and it’s SOMEONE’s fault and if you understand that, then cut the act and why don’t you realize that you’re the source of the problem but oh maybe it’s because you’re leaving that you’re choosing not to mind—
The words wouldn’t come out.
And since they wouldn’t, the waves of emotion simply crashed into each other and swelled.
The unnecessary awareness that her face was bright red at that moment came to her.
“What’s wrong? Why can’t you sta—?”
It was his extended hand that pulled the trigger.
“Shhhidiot!!”
Even she wasn’t exactly sure what it was she was yelling.
Regardless, Chtholly leaped up and dashed away as fast as she could.
Chtholly, leaving a billowing cloud of dust behind her, eventually vanished from sight.
“What was that?” Willem muttered, watching her go with a blank expression.
“Sometimes ignorance is bliss, Officer.” Ithea, lying on her back and unmoving, sounded like she was talking to a child.
“Lots of worries at her age,” Nephren said, also lying on the ground, like she was putting the blame on Chtholly.
His head cocked in puzzlement, Willem mulled over what they’d said bit by bit before coming to a single conclusion.
“Yeah, I don’t get teenage girls.”
“That’s exactly the reaction I was expecting…,” Ithea said with an exasperated tone as she eagerly hauled herself into a seated position. “I don’t think you needa run after her or anything, though.”
“Hmm?”
Willem, who was literally about to dash off after Chtholly, stopped. He turned around.
“Uh, but isn’t it generally a bad idea to leave people alone when they get like that?”
“She tends to keep all her troubles to herself and bottle them up. Fundamentally speaking, Chtholly’s perfectly capable and hardworking, and she has a lot on her plate, but she somehow manages it all through sheer willpower and determination. But once things get to be too much, she gets all ‘ahhhh!’ like that.”
“…I see, she gets all ‘ahhhh.’”
Something must have occurred to him. Willem deliberately repeated what Ithea had said as he nodded, with a look on his face like he remembered something.
“She’s generally a good kid, so she’ll eventually calm down and face her feelings. At least, she realizes that running around like that isn’t gonna solve anything.”
“Right…” Willem narrowed his eyes. “That’s a philosophical way of looking at things. Which one of you’s older?”
“Nya-ha-ha, we don’t have to talk about that now!” Ithea slowly got to her feet. “Well then, Officer, I think the more important matter for you isn’t taking care of her but putting a wrap on this business. What do you think?”
“Business?”
“Giving us an explanation.” Ithea lowered her voice. “It won’t be very interesting if we hafta drag it out of you, after all. Looks like Chtholly ran off without getting to hear it, but why don’t you just go ahead and come clean about what kinda choice you made about the stuff from yesterday?”
“What stuff from yesterday?”
Deep valleys formed between Willem’s furrowed brows as he looked at her, confused.
“………”
It was unclear if Nephren, who long ago gave up on getting to her feet, was listening as she alone gazed blankly at the clouds.
Chtholly stopped once she got deeper into the forest.
She turned around. Willem hadn’t chased after her, although she had thought he might.
Maybe he’d abandoned her. The terrifying thought assailed her. “I can’t always look after this confusing, handful of a girl forever.” Maybe that’s what he thought of her.
That’s impossible, she thought.
But maybe it isn’t.
Chtholly knew that anxiety could arise from nowhere and grow out of control. It didn’t matter, even if she had spotless logic and reasoning. All she could do was brush it off or push it away after it came to the forefront.
She recalled when they’d first met at Market Medley.
She remembered when they’d met again, him dripping wet and with Pannibal hanging over him.
She thought back on him playing in the mud with the little ones, on him wearing an apron, making sweets in the kitchen.
She recalled when she had been in the infirmary, when she’d thrown all her feelings at him.
Right after that… Well, it was sort of embarrassing to think back on, but, uhhh, he was, you know, tinkering with her whole body, uhhh, and, and—
…When did I start feeling like this?
It felt like she had always liked him, ever since they’d met.
After that, as she learned more about his personality and his past, she started to feel sympathy, respect, compassion, adoration, and all sorts of feelings like that for him.
But what about those that went a step beyond that? Was there a specific situation that served as the catalyst that she could point to and say, “This is it”?
She thought about it, but she couldn’t find one.
She remembered the plot of a book she’d read before. Love was a bottomless swamp. You only realized you’d been trapped in it after the fact. And no matter how much you struggled, you could never get out.
…Oh, I see. That’s it. That’s what this is.
She could ask herself where and when it started, but she would receive no answer. She had realized it only after the fact.
There was the time when Ithea and Nephren had teased her in the reading room. There was the other time when she had woken up from her venenum poisoning and voiced her doubts to him. There was when he’d avoided her kiss.
Feelings she’d had from the very beginning were slowly changing form, day by day.
As they changed, they grew bigger and bigger, and now here she was.
Perhaps she was a little late in doing so.
If she told someone else, perhaps they would be shocked.
Chtholly Nota Seniorious had started to fall in love.
The girl had finally given a name to the emotions inside her.
4. The Case of the Gray-Haired Faerie
This will be a slight digression about a girl named Nephren Ruq Insania.
Leprechauns—or, rather, faeries—were all a certain type of natural phenomenon. Essentially, in a strict sense, they were not living beings. Therefore, they did not need parents in order to be born. They occurred naturally in places very few people went, like deep in the forests. And if they were lucky enough to be in the care of those related to The Winged Guard, then they would be taken to the faerie warehouse to be brought up as fantastic weapons.
And so many of the faeries remembered the moments just after their natural occurrence. They remembered the moment when they transformed from nothingness into somethingness, their first memories of when they as individuals began.
It was the original impulse, from before she had her own soul. Or perhaps it was the last feelings of the soul of a young child that carried over into death and served as the building blocks for the faeries’ existence.
And, in the case of Nephren Ruq Insania, this feeling was a great sense of emptiness that naturally took root in her heart.
It was a sense of unease that the world was breaking, that it would soon disappear. That what existed in reality before her would suddenly be gone in the blink of an eye. That the ground would collapse beneath her and she would fall into the depths of darkness. And, most of all, that by some chance, the person who existed as Nephren Ruq Insania would shatter into pieces and fade into the wind.
Of course, it was only the split second after she was born that she had been at the mercy of those feelings. As her body and heart matured, the impulse itself waned. She had managed to come to terms with it.
But the memory of having those fears never disappeared.
It still lay buried deep within her, clutching tightly onto her spirit.
She could not find compassion in her for everything that was in the world—it wouldn’t be strange if she lost it one day after all. She could not love the entirety of the world—it wouldn’t be strange if it vanished one day after all.
And—perhaps, in a way, it could also be called characteristic of faeries—she had no attachment to who she was in this world. That was surely because she was but a fleeting being in this place, almost as though her being here itself was a mistake.
A man named Willem Kmetsch came to the faerie warehouse.
At first, Nephren wasn’t very interested. She briefly thought about how he was supposed to stay here at the warehouse, but he was simply an errand boy for the military at the end of the day with nothing to do, so he would get bored and leave.
It took her several days to realize that he was different.
He was simply an errand boy for the military. On paper, that was a fact. But somehow, it seemed that the man himself had absolutely no intentions of passing his days as an errand boy, or that he had no interest in or obligation to his original work, or that the way he looked at featureless children was exceptionally kind.
And another thing. She of course noticed the curious light unbecoming of a faerie that filled Chtholly’s eyes when Chtholly looked at him.
“You find him interesting, too, Ren?”
“I just think he’s strange.”
Nephren had given her honest answer at the time back when Ithea asked. She just didn’t get the sense that he was going to bring some sort of change to the faerie warehouse. Being near him gave her an odd sensation of being unable to take her eyes off him.
“…”
Atop the roof of the faerie warehouse, Nephren rested her elbows on the railing and gazed up blankly at the stars.
The cloudless night sky looked like a bottomless pit. Just by staring up at it, she seeped herself in the sensation of falling endlessly into darkness.
She considered this the perfect time to think. But at the same time, she thought this the perfect time to simply be and not think.
“You’ll get sick out here.”
A scarf landed gently on her shoulders.
She turned around. Standing there was a tall woman smiling gently—Nygglatho.
“Is something worrying you?”
“Mm… Does it seem that way?”
“Well, my instinct, sharpened from looking after plenty of girls your age, is badgering me that there is.” She grinned. “If you’re looking at the stars, then does that mean that unease of yours is back? The one about the world breaking?”
“Mm… Yes but no.” She wondered briefly how she might explain it. “It’s Willem.”
“Oh my.”
“There’s an odd look in his eyes. I only just met him, but I’ve been feeling like I’ve seen him somewhere before.”
“My oh my.” Nygglatho sounded amused. “Is this love at first sight with you, too?”
“No,” she responded readily. “That’s not it. I think he’s the same as me.”
“…Ah.”
A brief silence.
Nygglatho came straight to Nephren’s side. The railing, built to accommodate the faeries’ height, was terribly short compared to this tall woman.
“He knows this world isn’t unshakable. Everything can disappear in an instant if we just look away—and he’s actually experienced that. He’s already once lost sight of who he is, and he still can’t find the answer.”
Not only that, but it was certainly something more weighty and painful than what Nephren felt, which was simply residual tremors from her previous life.
He’d already lost his entire world. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he’d lost everything in the time in between.
“But he smiles, even though he hasn’t forgotten his fears or even overcome them. He bears it all, but he still looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s not just his body—his heart is covered in cracks. It could shatter at any time.” Nephren slowly shook her head. “I don’t know how to treat him.”
“I see.” Nygglatho nodded slightly. “What do you want to do, Ren?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m not asking what you’re planning on doing but what you want to do.”
“I don’t…get it.”
Wanting things was never something Nephren was very good at. When it came to doing what she was told or carrying out orders, she could manage. But when it came to doing things based on her own will and desire, she suddenly became dull and lethargic.
“…Do you like Willem, Ren?”
“I already answered that—no.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Do you think you could like him not as a girl but in a broader sense?”
Nephren pondered for a moment.
“I don’t hate him, at least.”
“Then perhaps you could stick by his side.”
That was an odd thing for her to say.
Nephren unconsciously studied Nygglatho’s face closely.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s much more reassuring to be close together than it is to be all alone. So long as you both feel the same way, then I’m sure just being together will help you support each other.”
“Is that how it works?”
“That is how it works.”
Nephren thought back to several days ago, in the material room.
Why had she been unable to ignore him as he’d fought alone against stacks of paper, and she had called out to him? Why had she ended up helping him? Why, after growing tired of the unusual work, had she fallen asleep on his lap and felt a certain peace of mind?
Nygglatho told her that those who felt the same could support each other. Did that essentially mean that Nephren Ruq Insania could find relief in her heart, too, just by staying with him?
“I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t be able to pull off that kind of mental health care. I think I’d be happy if you were to do it for me, Ren.”
“Hmm…”
She looked up to the starry sky, peering distantly into the massive, consuming emptiness, which was never too far from this world.
“Okay. I’ll do what I can to see what works,” Nephren responded, her gaze still trained on the sky, her awareness heightened.
“Thanks.”
She heard the troll’s kind voice coming from right beside her.
Over in the recreation room, Nephren found Willem, surrounded by various board games, playing with Tiat and the other younger faeries.
I’ll try sitting next to him…
She stuck herself right up against his back.
“…What is it?” Willem turned around to ask.
“An experiment,” Nephren responded. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.”
Willem was satisfied with that answer, so he nodded and didn’t ask any more.
Nephren again checked to see how she felt about this situation. Well, it certainly wasn’t terrible. And if Willem, who she was stuck to, didn’t feel so bad about it, then this might be a rather effective arrangement.
“Yaaaah!”
Collon leaped onto them, perhaps thinking it looked fun.
“Woooo!”
Pannibal leaped onto her, perhaps thinking it might be fun adding some chaos to the situation.
Once that happened, everyone else was quick to follow. Kana. Almita. Giniette. They leaped on top of one another with delighted, rallying cries. The stack of faeries got higher and higher.
Since they were small children, they each individually did not weigh too much. But together as a group, it turned out to be a weighty affair.
“Nnngggaaaah?!” Willem yelled, his body shaking.
Nephren noticed someone was watching them, and she looked up toward the hallway.
There stood Chtholly.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“What are you girls up to?”
“Sheesh, letting little kids do that will just teach them bad manners.”
All sorts of things that Chtholly might say came to mind. But Chtholly, having noticed Nephren looking at her, whirled around without a word. She ran to her room.
“…Mm.”
It seemed she still hadn’t been able to shake off her complicated state of mind.
Nephren thought that it might be a good idea if she went to console her, but she was now a part of the foundation in this faerie tower. She couldn’t move.
“Nnngggrrraaaaaah!!”
“Wheeee!”
“Up, up!”
Despite his entire body shaking, Willem stayed sturdy, supporting the little faeries on his back and shoulders. His heart and body were supposed to be breaking. He wore a cool expression and laughed in jest, but he should still be in so much pain.
……Yeah.
Nephren didn’t want him to break.
That was why she was going to do what she could to support him.
She closed her eyes and made up her mind.
“Oh? What’s all this? Looks like a lot of fun!”
Nephren opened her eyes. This time, it was Nygglatho standing in the hallway.
All ten fingers twitching, she sidled up to the group and asked, “Would you mind if I joined in?”
“Wait, hold on. Think about this. Seriously, don’t do this.”
Willem’s begging was more in earnest than in jest, but Nygglatho didn’t listen.
“Hiii-yah!”
“Stoppp!” Willem yelled, sounding on the edge of tears. The pile of faeries squealed in delight.
“……”
Nephren would do what she could to support him. If she didn’t, then one day, somehow, he would be crushed under his own weight.
Dizzy from acting as the base for Willem and all the faeries, she once again carved her resolve deeply into her heart.
5. The Ailuranthrope Man
Dawn had broken on what should have been day three of special training.
Chtholly was washing her face with cold water.
Calm down, she told herself.
She had taken a personal big step now that she was aware of her own romantic feelings. But in another sense, the problem was not much more than her personal feelings being in an unusual state. She couldn’t let them manipulate her and cause problems for others; on top of that, she would hate for Ithea and Nygglatho to take pity on her if they saw her helpless against her own feelings.
Her face got hot whenever she thought about Willem. She could forcefully chase the heat away by splashing cold water on her face.
She was no longer able to think calmly about the situation—about the fact that the merchant from another island (which was her guess) might recruit him and take him away. It was just as Nygglatho said—she needed to ask him herself. Chtholly as she was now still had the courage to act on that.
“Come now, Collon, wash your face properly!”
“No, it’s too cold!”
“I totally agree; I don’t want to touch cold water on a cold day like this.”
“H-hey, both of you, get back here!”
Familiar voices raised a ruckus like they always did. Lively trampling feet dashed down the hallway behind her.
Now it’s my turn, Chtholly thought.
She whirled around and roared, “Hey!” When the noisy ones—Tiat and the others—stopped, she put her hands on her hips to take her commanding pose. No running in the hallway. Wash your face and brush your teeth. Set an example for the younger ones.
Yes. By acting the way she normally did, she would reclaim her normal self. That’s what she would do.
She dried her face with a towel, and just as she was about to turn around, she spotted Willem Kmetsch out of the corner of her eye. He wore an overcoat for going outside on top of his regular military uniform.
“…Oh.”
For a brief moment, she couldn’t help the thought crossing her mind—he’s so handsome.
Infatuation was truly a terrifying thing—it so easily clouded her senses once it had taken root inside her. She was dazzled for a brief moment by seeing him dressed to go out, something she had seen many times and was already rather used to seeing.
Then, in the next moment, a feeling of unease shook her. Something was off.
“…Huh?”
It was almost time for their daily sword lesson to begin.
And those lessons—at least, according to the precedent set in the last two days—were carried out wearing clothes that were decidedly unstylish.
No—
Willem was dressed for going out, but not for field practice. Where was he going? What was he going to do there? No, it couldn’t be.
Her unease—which she thought she had overcome just a few moments ago—slowly reared its ugly head again.
Everything vanished from thought. Still gripping the towel she had dried her face with, she dashed down the hall at full speed.
“Oh.” Willem looked up. “Perfect timing—I need to tell you something. We’re taking a break from practice today, so rest up and build some muscle.”
She wasn’t going to listen to him.
Chtholly, who had practically slammed on the brakes just in front of Willem, looked up at him with a taut expression.
“Absolutely no independent training. And no accidental activating of the venenum. That’ll just inhibit a healthy recovery—”
“Where are you going?” Chtholly asked, her tone as deep and dark as if it were emerging from the depths of hell.
“Just some dumb business. I’ll be back,” he responded, his gaze shifting toward the main entrance. Chtholly followed suit and also looked that way. There stood a familiar-looking ailuranthrope man. He noticed her and briefly lifted up his hat in greeting.
“N—”
Chtholly’s body moved on its own.
She stepped between the two, threw her arms open wide, and blocked Willem’s way.
“No! Don’t go!”
“Huh?”
“Don’t go! You promised—you promised you’d wait for me! I’ll work hard! I’ll do my best and come home! So please!”
It’s worth reiterating that this was early in the morning.
Everyone was busy getting ready for the day ahead, and this was right about the time most were leaving their rooms.
“I’m useless! I know I’d be useless without you! I wouldn’t be able to fight, I wouldn’t be able to win, and I wouldn’t be able to come home! Without you here, I’m nothing!”
Incoherence. Her feelings were wrung out, piecing together sentences as they went.
The faeries washing their faces, the faeries running around the hallway, and the troll who was carrying a basket of laundry all turned to look at Chtholly.
“Uhhh…” Willem’s gaze drifted back and forth as he scratched his cheek, unsure of what was going on. “…What are you talking about?”
The cat—er, the man’s name was Ramikeldi Limashenka.
He had been born on this island, but he’d dreamed of life in the city and left almost twenty years ago. After that, just as Chtholly and the others had guessed, he went on to be a tobacco dealer on Island No. 13. He either must have had an innate business sense or perhaps he was lucky, because the business itself was a success. It was only last month that he’d received word that his mother, who had stayed behind on the island, had died. It was an opportunity; he left the company, which he had spent all this time building up, to a younger person; then, after a trip on the public airship routes and with private ferrymen, he came home to Island No. 68.
It was his first time home in twenty years, and the old clock on the wall had stopped working.
It was a precious thing, filled with memories with his family.
Anything with form would one day break. That was a given fact of life. But perhaps it was a bit audacious of him to say this and that about memories when he had neglected his home and family for such a long time. And yet, Ramikeldi still wished he could hear the clock strike the hour one last time.
“Look, these clocks have all these complicated mechanisms inside, right?”
They were in the parlor room of the Limashenka household.
The lid popped off, and underneath, just like Willem had said, the clock was stuffed with springs, screws, and gears.
“…”
Chtholly stayed silent.
“Not only that, but this is an old-world type, one that isn’t powered by any crystals but by mechanics alone. Not something an amateur could poke around in and fix on their own,” Willem continued as he dexterously removed several parts with a practiced hand: rusted gears, bent shafts, shrunken combs that couldn’t serve their purpose anymore.
“…”
Chtholly stayed silent.
“But he still wanted to do something about it, so Nygglatho stuck her nose in his business and told him about me. She’s the worst; all she really said about me was that I looked like I could do a lot of stuff so I could probably fix mechanical things.”
Perhaps it was an awful introduction, but this man was doing exactly what she’d said he would. Wasn’t this supposed to be untouchable by amateurs? Every engineer should hear exactly what he had to say—“This’s like child’s play compared to repairing dug weapons.” And when that happened, all those engineers should be given rocks perfect for throwing.
“…And that’s what I told Ithea and Nephren yesterday.”
“What?”
“After yesterday’s lessons, they came up to me like, ‘Spill it.’ They didn’t tell you?”
Chtholly glared sharply at Ithea.
Ithea quickly looked the other way and forced a laugh.
“…Explain yourself.”
“Um, well, I just thought things’d turn out funnier if I stayed quiet.”
“You—!”
“I mean, look, you got a little more honest with yourself because you didn’t know. Your confession earlier was pretty good, I’d say. I was hoping for a little more from you, like you’d be a little more forward or you’d hug him or push him over, but it was worth watching, and I think you got your feelings across to the officer, so it’s all okay in the end…”
Ithea raised both her hands in submission.
“No, it’s not!”
“…Oh, okay.”
She lowered them, disappointed.
“It doesn’t matter that you did all that, because I’m always honest! I always get my feelings across to others!”
“Nya-ha-ha, don’t get so mad. See, a smiling Chtholly is a charming Chtholly!”
“You think I can smile now?!”
Ithea ran off.
Chtholly chased her.
“Hey, don’t get too crazy in someone else’s house.” Willem sent a half-hearted scolding after them, his eyes still glued to the mechanics.
Nephren, standing beside him, sighed briefly.
“Sorry they’re so noisy, Mr. Rami.”
“That’s all right. It’s been too quiet for much too long; I’m sure the house is happy to hear a bit of noise,” the ailuranthrope said before gently narrowing his amber-colored eyes. “Are these your daughters?”
“Uhhh, well…,” Willem responded, scratching his cheek, “…we’re not related by blood, but they’re all a part of my very precious family.”
“I see.” The ailuranthrope nodded.
Nephren stared up closely at Willem’s profile.
Chtholly was still chasing her.
He took out all the broken parts and replaced them with new parts he had just recently ordered.
The repair work was finished.
It was almost two in the afternoon.
“…Ooh…”
Chtholly’s face was flushed with embarrassment.
Beside her was Ithea, her hair mussed, who said to her, “I’m sooorryyy,” with hardly any hint of apology in her tone.
“Now, if this goes well, then it’ll work…” Willem pointed both the short and long hands toward the top.
There was a quiet click. A few moments later, a lush noise produced by the gold comb spilled from within the resonance box.
“All right.” Willem nodded vigorously.
“Ohhh… That’s a real nice sound…,” Ithea with her mussed hair murmured, her tone genuine.
“I know this song. It’s…”
It was a familiar tune: a nursery song, passed down through the ages on one of the islands, and its title in the common parlance was—
“…‘The Place I Want to Go Home To.’”
Yes, that was it.
The lyrics came to her. It was an old, old war song.
In summary, a soldier writes a letter to his family from a war zone far, far away from his home.
He sends his gratitude to his mother and father.
He sends his love to his brothers and sisters.
He sends his affection to all those he spent his youth with.
The letter ends with him stating that there was still so much he wanted to do in his homeland, so even though it might take some time, he would absolutely survive the war and come home.
The song never said if he ultimately mailed the letter in the first place or if he managed to make it home.
“…Thank…you…,” Ramikeldi murmured, large tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. “Oh dear, how unsightly.” He hurriedly wiped his eyes. “That brings back so many old memories. I mustn’t cry anymore now that I’m getting older.”
“Ha-ha-ha.” Willem laughed gently.
Though she didn’t know how he felt on the inside, Chtholly thought to herself that his laugh seemed somehow pained.
6. “The Place I Want to Go Home To”
“We don’t have a lotta time left at this point. We’ll begin with a bit of special training, starting today.”
Willem and Chtholly were the only ones at the training area (their name for the clearing). Ithea and Nephren were ordered to only repeat all the training up until that point and not to come here today.
Willem’s expression was stiffer than usual.
“You’ll learn how to work with a Carillon in a close fight, along with some superpowered moves that you can only use when the situation gets desperate. I don’t have the confidence to teach all this stuff unless I concentrate on you alone.”
Willem held a stick in his hand like he always did. But Chtholly was wielding something different today—the most powerful dug weapon, the unrivaled Seniorious.
“It’s really that amazing?”
“Amazing? I guess you could say that. It was always too amazing for me to get the hang of.”
…Huh?
“What does that—?”
“It’s the worst. They claim only people with labels slapped on them, like, someone born in the bloodline of a master swordsman, or a person born with a curse, or someone who had loved ones cruelly ripped away from them are able to manage it. A guy like me—someone born to normal, ordinary citizens—would never in a million years be qualified to activate this stuff. Am I right?”
Ah—Um, I know you want me to agree with you, but I’m kind of in a tough spot here.
“Five hundred years ago, I tried using it just by imitating the forms. Then, uh, I guess my invocation was pretty half-baked, ’cause I only really got powerful enough to slice a mountain in half, and as a result, I practically died from pushing myself despite being unqualified. And if I hadn’t been petrified just before dying, that would’ve been the end for me.”
Ummm.
It was hard to tell how much of that was a joke. Should she laugh?
“—And I’m going to use this?”
“Yeah. Sorry about the qualification stuff; even if we can’t cover any of the named moves, you should have no trouble learning venenum-controlled breathing and the basic sword movements if we just concentrate on those.”
Willem Kmetsch was strong, and not just in terms of fighting strength. It was hard to pin down exactly, but he was very strong as a person, too.
He was going to pass on to her a way of fighting that he was never able to master.
“But still, it’s true we don’t have any time, so I’m just gonna toss it all at you, and you’ll just have to remember it.”
“Okay…”
Chtholly nodded with resolve.
“Lose focus, and someone’ll end up dying right here, before the main event. Most likely me.”
“Uh…huh?”
He didn’t need to say that.
“Give it all you got.”
“I will.”
Willem held his stick at the ready.
Chtholly held Seniorious at the ready.
She kindled the slightest bit of venenum. Light began to envelop Seniorious through the cracks in the blade as if it was slowly awakening from a deep slumber.
“—Hey,” Chtholly spoke up, collapsed comfortably on the grass.
“Hmm?” Willem responded, leaning against a nearby tree, his shoulders sagged in exhaustion.
“Did you have, like, y’know, a sweetheart or something in the past?”
“Why this all of a sudden?”
“I just want to know. And it’ll impact my own plans going forward.”
“What?” Willem ruffled his bangs. “I didn’t have time for any of that. Once I qualified to be a Quasi Brave, all my days were filled with training and study and fighting and war.”
There was a hint of nostalgia in his response.
“Okay. Then do you have plans to go anywhere after this?”
“After what?”
“You’re this warehouse’s papier-mâché manager. But you’re not contracted to stay forever, right? The day your term ends will come eventually, right?”
“Hmm… Yeah, I guess so.” He pondered for a moment. “I haven’t decided, and I haven’t even thought about it. I bet if I ask Glick, he’ll probably find me something I can enjoy.”
He brought up a familiar-sounding name of someone she didn’t know. Who was Glick?
“Well, I’m here for now, at least. If I could, I’d wanna go and pummel those Beasts into the ground, but the way I am now, I’d just hold you back. So…” The corners of Willem’s lips began drifting upward ever so slightly. “So I’m just gonna do what I can right now. I’ll watch after the little ones while I wait for you guys to get back, and I’ll give you the most extravagant welcome.”
“…Yeah.”
“’Cause I promised, remember? I’m gonna feed you so much butter cake, you’ll explode.”
“…Yeah…” Chtholly nodded with a smile, and after a moment of thought, she pointed out, “…Hold on. You added something there, didn’t you?”
What am I? Chtholly thought.
It was a question that had been coming to mind more frequently as of late.
She was a leprechaun: a spirit of the dead who could not stay dead. An unliving life-form. A weapon that discarded her entire being to fight for those who did have proper life.
The dug weapon deemed compatible with her was Seniorious. She was fifteen years old. She had been born in a forest on Island No. 94.
And now, amid the throes of her first unrequited love, she would soon be headed to a dire battle.
But.
She had a place to come home to. She had someone to announce her return to.
That person was waiting here for her.
That’s why she was sure—no, she was certain that she would come home.
And then, as she stuffed herself with butter cake, she would laugh out loud in happiness—
“…Huh?” Willem made a sudden noise of befuddlement.
“Hmm? What is it?” Even though her body still wasn’t moving, Chtholly managed to lift her head, bringing her beloved’s expression into view.
“Do you remember that last collision we just had?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. That…grasping thing you sent up into the sky. Don’t worry—I never forget the stuff you teach me.”
“Grasping Gossamer Crane. It’s originally an unarmed move, but that’s what it’s like if you switch it around a bit and use it as a sword technique… Anyway, you don’t really have to remember that one.”
“I was actually asking if you remembered something else—Seniorious.”
“…Huh?”
“After that impact, it was knocked out of your hands, right? Do you remember which way it went?”
“Oh… Um…”
Sweat dripped down Chtholly’s forehead.
Island No. 68 was a rural island, one that was mostly covered in forests and marshes. The area around the faerie warehouse was no exception. The trees were cleared so that there was enough room for them to live, of course, but everything beyond that, between the hard-to-see gaps in the dense woods, was dark swamps of all shapes and sizes.
“Oh…oh no!!”
There was no time for her to leisurely complain about her body being unable to move. Chtholly forced her body—which was still screaming in pain all over—off the ground and leaped to her feet.
It was a close call.
Seniorious was covered in mud all the way up to the handle, and the entire time—from the moment it was pulled out until it was polished—it somehow looked annoyed.
On a slight tangent—
“Ngaaaaaah!”
—It’s worth adding that for a short time afterward, Tiat developed a certain eccentricity where she would put mustard in her tea, down it in one go, and then let out a shriek.