1

Amid blackness without boundaries glowed a faint light. A tiny red spark, like a stray ember, afloat in the same void that surrounded Izumi all around, a short distance before her eyes. Staring at that light, Izumi regained a semblance of self-awareness. As her eyes slowly regained focus, she saw that the flame-like glow was emitted by a tiny being. A person hardly the size of her palm, a female fairy, wearing a short, bright orange dress. The fairy’s short hair as well was of the color of a lively fire, rustled by an invisible breeze.

“Finally I got through to you!” the being told Izumi in a strangely familiar, angry tone.

“Eh?” Leaning to examine the tiny creature closer, Izumi realized that she had seen her before. “You were that...that...Um, who were you again?”

The foreign name just wouldn’t come to her.

“You already forgot!? I can’t believe you!” the fairy snapped at her. “I am the Lord of the Scarlet Flame! Yubilea is my name, the name Goddess Iraam herself gave me at creation! Don’t you ever forget it, human!”

“Right. Bet you don’t remember my name either.”

“Who even cares about you!?”

“Ah, now I’ve got it,” Izumi remembered at last. “You were that firecracker at the big temple in the Empire. I thought you went and died somewhere? Or, that’s what I was told.”

“Oh well, it’s true,” Yubilea reluctantly admitted. “I am dead, or as close to being dead as is possible without ceasing to exist altogether. I am no longer a Divine spirit, far less a Lord. Together with my Authority, I was devoured.”

“I see. Then why are you here? Where are we, anyway?”

“Inside your own dumb head, where else!” the red spirit answered. “As to why I’m here—it’s because I had a grudge.”

“A grudge?”

“That’s right. I had a regret I simply couldn’t let go, no matter what. I couldn’t allow myself to disappear before it's settled. So I clung onto your soul and narrowly escaped demise alongside my sisters, as a disembodied fragment of a spirit, even lesser than a wraith. As they say, to escape your enemy, you have to hide in the last place they’ll look; which tends to be right under their own belly.”

“I don’t really get it, but whatever,” Izumi tilted her head. “What was that last regret then? You wanted to taste pistachio gelato one more time? I can relate.”

“As if! What is that, even!? Sounds nasty!” the spirit angrily replied. “That’s not it, at all! I only had one regret, and you should know what it is, better than anyone!”

“Me?” Izumi raised her brows. “If it’s not pistachio, then is it rum raisin? We weren’t that close, were we? I can’t claim to know your tastes.”

“It’s not a matter of tastes! And that’s just the thing—we were enemies.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Izumi twisted her lips and thought. “It was nothing personal, really.”

“You made it personal for me,” Yubilea grimly retorted.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about our battle! Our epic duel to the death!”

“Something like that happened?”

“It did! Just how poor is your memory!?”

“I suppose we scuffled for a bit. It wasn’t that impressionable, really. Then what?”

“The conclusion—there never was one! After being so humiliated, I was forced to bow out like a dog! I did so out of reverence for my sister, but—as I thought, it’s still galling! It’s killing me! A figure of speech. You know what I mean! I can’t leave things half-finished! Not if there’s any way I can help it.”

“Okay. I get it,” Izumi made a deep sigh. “So what do you want from me, exactly? To pick up where we left off? Don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a bit of a...difference in size at the moment. I don’t think it’d be very fair, as things stand.”

“It’s not a problem of size!” Yubilea wailed. “It’s the problem of me being even less than a ghost now! I don’t have any way of interfering with the physical world anymore. Not even the spiritual. I hover here on the brink of your consciousness, with no way out. It’s the worst!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for you. Really am.”

“You don’t sound like you get it, at all! At any rate, the only reason I was able to contact you, even on this unconscious level, is because you’ve left the White Death’s dominion. But that’s only temporary. Sooner or later, that monster will take over all lands and I’ll be flushed out. I just know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” the red spirit shook her head. “Fortunately, this is still Carbannact’s territory. That child is friendly to all natural spirits. So long as we stay here, I should be able to recover somewhat. Coming here was a good decision, human!”

“I don’t really want more company in my head, though,” Izumi said. “Is there any way I can find you a new home?”

“No. I’m not going to leave. Not until I can recover enough to take over a new vessel and bring our fight to its rightful conclusion.”

“That doesn’t sound too good to me. Not one bit. Maybe I’ll just phone Ai-chan and ask for pest control—”

“No, no, no, no!” Yubilea quickly pleaded. “Don’t do that! Please don’t do that! I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. I—I’ll make this a mutually beneficial deal, so why don’t you just go along with it, for now?”

“Mutually beneficial?” Izumi repeated. “When its ultimate purpose is to kill me?”

“I didn’t say anything about killing!” the spirit retorted. “Although, that may have been part of the original plan—but not quite. I’ve changed my mind. What I really seek, deep down, is just closure. I am willing to accept a conclusion of any kind to our dispute, so long as it’s satisfactory. So, on the way to that, I may be able to provide you with a boon or two to keep you, er, willing.”

“Like what?” Izumi shrugged. “You said you don’t have any power left.”

“That’s right, I don’t,” the red spirit admitted. “But, having existed since the dawn of time, I may know a thing or two that could be of use to you.”

“I see. For example?”

“…”

“….”

“…..”

“…….”

“...Well, I can’t think of anything when you put me on the spot like that!” Yubilea cried. “Don’t stare at me! You’ll see! If you can help me grow stronger, then I can also increase the range of assistance I can provide. It’s not a bad deal, is it?”

“Now it’s a deal?” Izumi sighed. “To be honest with you, you’re not selling it. And I thought you called us enemies? With that in mind, you’d help me best by just finding a new head to infest.”

“An agreement! A—a temporary truce! Co-habitation! Nothing too binding or strictly defined! Come on, give a spirit a hand! What are you, a monster?”

“I’m not giving you one finger, that’s for sure,” Izumi told Yubilea. “But...well, I suppose you can stay where you are, so long as you don’t make too much of a mess. The moment it becomes a pain for me, I’ll call for an exorcist. I happen to know a few good ones.”

“I’ll be nice! I swear it!”

The spirit’s words started to grow faint in Izumi’s ears. She could see Yubilea’s fiery glow no more, and found herself as if drifting upward. Taken by a gentle, illusory lift, she arose towards the brightness of another day. Once again to emerge in the waking world.

2

Izumi opened her eyes and cautiously sat up. She found that what she had been lying on was a stone floor. It wasn’t completely bare but covered with the pelt of some unknown, white-furred animal of prodigious proportions, and felt quite comfortable to lie on. The floor itself gave off mild warmth as well, rendering her body relaxed and free of chill.

Recalling her own situation again, Izumi took a few seconds to examine herself.

She was dressed in her own clothes, but they had been somehow cleaned and dried—there was no trace of blood or dirt on them. Only the few tears here and there proved that it was still the same attire Carmelia had given her the previous morning.

Izumi looked at her hands. The broken fingers had healed, the cuts and scrapes closed, with only faint, pale scars to mark the damaged spots. Her legs as well were whole and functional, her toes moving as willed, with no pain—someone had removed the shoes. Breathing didn’t hurt either, and Izumi lightly patted her sides to check that her ribs were intact and correctly aligned.

Inhale. Exhale.

Once again, she had been saved, it seemed.

Next, Izumi turned her attention to the room around her. It was round, like half a sphere, the ceiling arching wide overhead. Everything was made of what looked like pearl-white stone, basking in the glow of a wide fireplace on the left. There was no wood in it; flames danced in the hearth on their own, probably sustained by some metaphysical technique.

There was very little in terms of furniture in the room.

On the right stood a tall closet, which Izumi suspected to be a wardrobe. She couldn’t be sure, as the doors of that tall box were closed and had no handles or labels, only narrow seams to mark where it could open. Like the rooms the human guests had been given, this one was lit by tiny spotlights embedded in the ceiling, which faint, gold-lined vine patterns decorated. Despite the ascetic furnishing, it was certainly a cozy place to stay.

Ahead of Izumi, in the back of the room, was a rectangular table of solid stone—or perhaps a bench—directly merged to the floor, with furs for cover. And above the seat was a large, circular window on the wall

On the bench, staring out of the window, sat a young girl.

She quietly gazed at the stars that twinkled above the mountains’ gloomy silhouette, as if posing for a painting. Sleek, white-gold hair flowed down the girl’s shoulders, reaching about midway down the back. Her light, white dress allowed Izumi to observe the girl’s slim figure in borderline embarrassing clarity. The woman’s heart picked up the pace, as if to remind her that it was there.

Perfect.

It was the only word to describe such a being.

Perfection.

The limbs and head in proportion to the torso. The nose’s position relative to the mouth and the eyes. The gentle jawline, the little chin. The quality of her hair. The size of her feet, the lines of her toes. There was not one degrading spot or a blemish that would have diminished the aesthetic quality of the whole. A petite flower in the shape of a girl. Rather than something produced by a natural, random assortment of genes, the girl looked straight up manufactured, a product designed with mathematical precision, assembled with greatest care.

Still, regardless of the associations, she was clearly neither a toy nor a fantasy, but a living being, a child. Reaching this conclusion made the initial excitement in Izumi fade, replaced by a somewhat parental sympathy.

The one to have saved Izumi from the near-guaranteed demise was that stargazing child, of this there could be no doubt. As if following the woman’s train of thought, having allowed it to run uninterrupted to this point, that girl now turned her head and smiled at Izumi.

“Um...” For a moment, Izumi was unsure of what to say. Then again, there was only one thing she could say, given the circumstances. “Thanks for saving me, I suppose?”

“Saving you?” the girl tilted her head, puzzled. “I am not sure what that means.”

“You keep somebody from dying,” Izumi blankly explained, unsure if the child was being very serious. “That’s what we call, ‘saving a person’s life’.”

“I see,” the emiri nodded in understanding. “The stories I have read often speak of the taking of lives as if it were a noble and virtuous deed. But there are times when it is better to spare a life instead? To be honest with you, I had never seen anyone die before, and did not understand what the stories were about. Hm. I have learned many things since meeting you. For that, I should thank you instead.”

“And you are?”

“I am Naliya,” the girl introduced herself. “Naliya De Laatha Nu Dani Ti Nidia. The Light of the First Star of Dawn Which Shines over Land.”

“Naliya...Alright,” Izumi nodded. “Easy enough to remember.”

“Thank you,” the child said, as though complimented. “And what is your name?”

“I’m Izumi. Itaka Izumi.”

“I...zu...mi,” the girl, Naliya, thoughtfully repeated, tasting the sounds. “It is a most curious name. I do not recognize this language. What does it mean?”

“The family name’s written as ‘fount’,” Izumi recounted. “‘Ita’ is from ‘pain’, and ‘ka’ stands for ‘lesson’.”

Those words, her own name, and names in general, were all that remained with Izumi of her own tongue. Everything else in her head had been converted into the terms and concepts of the foreign cultures of Ortho. No matter how she tried, she could only speak in the common language of the people of Noertia now. Attempting to write a kanji, the result turned into local alphabet as soon as she became mindful of the meaning.

Not that she particularly cared. Language was a small price to pay for freedom.

“—Are you human?”

“Huh?”

Naliya’s sudden question threw Izumi for a loop.

“You look human,” the child said. “Or the way I have heard humans described. But the soul within you is strange, whispering of a distant past, far removed from all I know. Where did you come from, Izumi? Why are you here? I have not seen other humans before, so I would like to know.”

“I...”

Izumi was unsure of how to reply, but her confusion lasted only for a moment.

Naliya smiled again and held out her little hand to the woman.

“Come closer,” she said. “Come sit here with me. Let us look at the stars together and talk.”

3

Izumi took a seat next to Naliya by the window. They talked about many things as the darkness of the night slowly started to withdraw and become overtaken by the velvet glow of the coming day.

Izumi told the elven child about her past, about her dream of becoming a hero in another world, about how she had been summoned into the rain, and about her meeting with the noble princess of a faraway kingdom. She talked about the charming assassin with a gentle heart, about the military commander who hunted nightmares, about the magician who had sacrificed all for her people, about the legendary warriors gathered around the throne of the mighty empire, about the man who wanted to rule the world, about the bard who sought greatness promised by destiny, and about the young knights of the remote barony, who had traveled a long way in search of justice.

By morning, answering the last question, Izumi yawned, her throat sore for all the talking, and stretched her arms.

“Thank you,” Naliya told her with a gentle smile that showed no hint of weariness. “You are the first to have answered my questions. My teachers often tell me that there are things I do not need to know, and anyone beside my teachers is not allowed to speak with me. Yes. I am glad that I kept you from death.”

“Eh...Well, I’m glad I didn’t die,” Izumi said.

“I would much like to keep you to myself. As a pet...No, a friend.”

Naliya looked Izumi directly in the eyes, leaning closer, and there was a dangerous yearning, a thirst in that look.

“A—but, I’ve been doing almost all the talking here!” Izumi said, hurrying to avert her face. “If we’re going to be friends, why don’t you tell me about yourself next?”

Naliya’s expression clouded and she looked down, pulling back.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “There is very little I can tell you. Since I do not know myself very well.”

“Hmm?”

“Little ever happens here. I spend my days either here in the Palace, or in the garden below. I am not allowed to go elsewhere. I am told my existence is very special, but I cannot say why. I know many things, but they are things I never lived to see for myself.”

“I...see.”

“Sometimes, I get this strange feeling. Like I should be somewhere else. I wish I could go outside and witness all the things I’ve only been told of. But my teachers say the world outside is very dangerous. No matter what, I must not leave the Palace. Am I strange, for wanting to go regardless?”

“...No, I think it’s only normal.”

More like, aren’t you just a prisoner?

“Hmm?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Izumi hurriedly hid her gloomy thoughts.

“I know,” Naliya suddenly stood and took Izumi’s hand. “Rather than speaking of myself, there are things I want to show you. You will be amazed, Izumi! They are things you have not seen on your travels, I am sure!”

Led by the arm, like a mother with her eager daughter at an amusement park, Izumi followed Naliya out of the room. By the looks of the interior, it seemed Naliya had told the truth. They were still in the Palace where Izumi and the rest had been staying—only, while the guestrooms were downstairs, Naliya’s quarters were far higher, on a level above the treetops.

The girl guided Izumi through the labyrinthine palace of vast hallways and lengthy staircases, where they would occasionally stop to gaze at the peculiarities of elven architecture and magitechnical prowess, and things that were mystifying and abstruse for both the human and the elf alike.

The two occasionally came across other elves, but they didn’t spare Izumi so much as a glance. So long as she was in Naliya’s company, it was as if the woman had become invisible to them. Then again, the people they saw were neither knights nor nobles, but appeared more like workers or servants; engineers, going about maintaining the complex Palace facilities. So focused they were in their duties, that they likely held little interest for anything else.

Eventually, several floors below Naliya’s chamber, the two stepped into a vast hall, almost entirely filled by a lush garden. Much of the floor space was occupied by short trees, their branches heavily misshapen, and densely tangled to form near-impenetrable barriers, dense bushes veiling their distorted trunks.

The lights were dimmed, of a bluish shade, enhanced by the presence of tiny insects like fireflies, which gave off a glow of a similar azure hue, as they floated soundlessly about.

Izumi and Naliya wandered through the maze-like garden, following a cleared, narrow walkway through, eventually reaching the center of the room.

There a sight even more fantastic awaited them.

There was a low metal pedestal standing up from the floor, about three feet tall, with a great, transparent sphere hovering above it, perhaps as wide as twelve feet across. It wasn’t made of glass, but appeared to be magical in nature, containing what might have been water.

Inside the great sphere floated some kind of an animal, like a fish in a bowl.

A fish it was not, however.

Roughly the size of a beaver, the creature was covered by a short, feathery fur of blue-green color, and had a head vaguely akin to a squirrel, with round black eyes and a tiny dot nose. The ears were long and whip-like, the legs like those of a gekko. The body was otherwise distinctly mammalian, with a long, flat-ended tail, which the animal used to sluggishly propel itself around in the sphere.

At the guest’s appearance, the beast reared its head, turning the cautious gaze of its beady eyes at them. It moved its ears in obvious excitement over the sight of Naliya, but remained cautious due to Izumi’s presence.

“Alá! Cani vis si neló!” Naliya exclaimed and hurried to greet the animal, which floated closer to her on the border of the sphere.

Turning around, Naliya introduced the being to Izumi.

“This is the Divine Lord of Verdancy, Carbannact. Long ago, my people brought him from across the sea. Here, his blessing shields us from the hazards of the island, and allows the flora of the lost land to flourish.”

“Ehh...Nice to meet you?” Izumi told the spirit, maintaining a respectful distance. Her past experiences with Divines weren’t too pleasant, even if Carbannact looked rather cute.

The Lord made no sound but only stared at Izumi.

Maybe it wasn’t too well-versed in human speech.

“I see. You are right about that,” Naliya said, nodding to the creature.

“It’s a telepath!?” Izumi exclaimed. “W-what were you talking about? What did it say? Something about me?”

“I would rather not repeat it,” the girl replied. “You might not like it.”

“Whaaat, now I really want to know what he said! What was it!?”

“It was nothing very important. Please forget about it.”

“Why won’t he talk to me directly? That’s bullying!”

“He says your mind is too preoccupied to hear his voice.”

“That’s a lie. It’s a lie, isn’t it? No, really, what was it that he said...!?”

“Ah, yes. They are very, very soft,” Naliya said to Carbannact again, nodding.

“WHAAAT!? SERIOUSLY, THE HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?”

Ignoring Izumi, Naliya faced the Divine spirit, and they appeared to be lost in a continued, unvoiced conversation. Shortly, the girl turned back to Izumi, and the look on her face had grown more serious.

“Lord Carbannact has asked me to convey a message for you,” she informed.

“Huh?” Izumi raised her brows. “A message?”

“’You should hurry’, he says.”

“Eh?”

“Time is running out. The promised day is soon here. You are qualified to use the Heaven’s Pillar. But if you miss the timing, the world can no longer be mended. So he says.”

“W-what?” Izumi shuddered, looking at the elven child and the weird animal staring at her. “Can’t he be a little more specific? What’s going to happen, exactly?”

Naliya fell quiet, as if struggling to comprehend the spirit’s words.

“He insists that you already know what he means,” she then reported. “The world needs be restored, or the serpent will reign, and wolves will devour the children of the Gods.”

“Wolves…?” Izumi repeated with a frown.

Naliya listened again and then recited,

“’In time, one will become many’. Does that mean anything to you?”

Izumi didn’t feel like asking more questions. Suddenly, she began to feel ill, and the restlessness which had haunted her for weeks surfaced in her heart once again.

“...We should go,” she said and turned away, unwilling to hear a word more.

4

Izumi and Naliya departed from Carbannact’s hall and continued to wander around the Palace, like on an idle family day out. Izumi remained unsettled by the spirit’s words for quite some time, and could barely bring herself to pay attention to Naliya’s chatter. Eventually, the marvels of the elven palace stole her attention again, however, and she forgot the sense of dread in her bosom. She had thought nothing would surprise her after the light road across the marshland, but the royal stronghold even had voice-controlled elevators and motion detection systems, making it comparable, if not superior, to modern Earth’s technology.

“Come. There is one more place I want you to see,” Naliya said, leading the woman to a large, cylindrical elevator. After a brief descent, the two stepped out in a tall, straightforward corridor without branching paths.

Walking on, they arrived at a grand relief of magnificent proportions, at least seventeen feet tall, and two thirds of that in width. The artwork was sculpted of silver, or some such lustrous metal, and it depicted a spectacular, life-like scene of numerous elves playing in a flourishing garden, or a jungle. So precise was the image in detail, that one could have counted all the individual leaves, which were likely to number in several thousands. Only the odd, stylized perspective threw off the sense of realism.

“This is...” Izumi failed to hide her surprise at the sight of the piece. Truly, she had never seen anything like it in all her life.

“Amarno,” Naliya proudly said. “The land where our people came into being, given life by Valios, and watched over by Ludevik and Telios. So I have been told.”

“Ah, is that right?” Izumi continued to stare at the door.

As beautiful as the relief was, she couldn’t help but think there was a slightly sinister undertone to it. Perhaps it was only her imagination, inspired by the grim fate of the elven land. The carefree days depicted in the artwork were now only in memories and legends. Or maybe the uneasy impression was due to none of the characters in the door looking very happy or smiling.

“Come,” Naliya said, beckoning the woman to follow.

“Huh?”

Izumi had thought the relief was their destination, but had been mistaken, it seemed.

At their approach—probably reacting to Naliya—the enormous artwork became divided in the middle, and opened without a sound. It had only been a door, after all, and beyond stood another corridor.

Passing through, the two came into a chamber of almost religious air, a wide, circular space with a tall ceiling, the interior gleaming with ornate, gilded patterns. The cost and care poured into the room’s décor doubtless matched the extravagant entrance. But it wasn’t the gold and shine alone that made the place seem similar to a house of faith. In the back of the otherwise empty room, facing the visitors, was an altarpiece of no less morbid designs than the crucifixes of Christian churches.

“The heck…?”

Izumi twisted her brows with unease.

What she was looking at was a human figure.

Or an elven figure, to be precise. Of course, setting aside the size of the body and the shape of the ears, there were no noteworthy differences in anatomy. It was disturbing all the same.

Hanging five feet above the ground, suspended by numerous translucent silk ribbons, the figure had no arms, and the legs as well were missing from midway down the thighs. It was only the torso of a well-endowed, mature woman, veiled in a pure white cloth. The face was covered by an ebony mask of simplistic features. The skin looked as though made of spotless marble. The stumps of arms and legs were encased in gold. The effigy was even given highly life-like hair, long and smooth, as so many cords of finest platinum.

For a statue, it was in incredibly poor taste, Izumi felt, despite the expensive finish. What was it meant to represent and why had the entire room been dedicated to such a thing? No one was there to worship the idol, and neither was the sight of it very soothing. Instead, looking at the dismembered statue filled Izumi with uncanny unease, to the point of nausea. Beneath the serene, dignified surface was something deeply unsettling, like a silenced scream of horror captured in stone.

Watching Naliya approach that terrible apparition without any concern, Izumi wanted to seize the girl and pull her away. This was definitely not the place for children to be playing around.

However, before Izumi could suggest leaving, they were interrupted by a voice coming from behind them.

——“As expected, the best way to find you is to look from the last place where you should be.”

They turned around and Izumi sighed in relief. Indeed, it was none other than Carmelia’s dark figure, who approached them now.

“Ah, your grace,” Naliya turned back and curtsied to the sorceress. “I am delighted to meet you in person, after hearing so much about you from my teachers. I am Naliya.”

“How unexpected,” Carmelia noted with a hint of irony. “I imagined they would tell you I was dead.”

“So they did,” Naliya replied. “But their thoughts could not hide the truth. The feelings they have for you are strong.”

“Clever girl,” the cirelo offered a dry compliment. “And, as clever as you are, you should know that this place is forbidden, for both you and that woman. Hurry off now, and I shall keep quiet about our meeting.”

Carmelia’s motherly tone allowed no arguments. Naliya bowed her head with a mischievous little smile, and ran for the exit. But there, on the edge of the corridor, she paused and turned to look back at Izumi.

“We will see each other again, won’t we?” the child asked. “I much enjoyed your company, Izumi!”

The affection in the girl’s tone and look made Izumi’s face take color out of embarrassment. Under Carmelia’s keen stare, the summoned earthling did her best to preserve her failing composure, and replied with a nod,

“Ah, sure.”

“You still have to tell me about the world you came from!”

With a light giggle, Naliya ran away, down the path they’d come, and the doors soon closed after her again.

Taking a deep breath, Izumi braced herself for a painful verbal slashing, but to her surprise, Carmelia merely walked past her, and approached the creepy statue in the back of the hall.

“Naliya is the first pure-blooded emiri child to have born in over eight hundred years,” the sorceress said.

“Huh? Eight hundred…?”

“Indeed. No one knows exactly why, but Alderia is a land without children. Without new life. Perhaps it is something in the soil? Something in the air? Perhaps it was the water we drank? The food we ate? Or the collective trauma, of losing so much and being forced apart as a people? Who can say? Either way, emiri and cirelo alike were doomed to slow extinction. I had planned to use the fact for leverage in our negotiations, having discovered a possible solution. But I was too late, it seems. Something changed, only twenty years ago, as that child came into being.”

“Naliya?”

“She is the most precious treasure of Alderia now, and the emiri guard her with mad jealousy. I cannot even begin to guess how you two came to cross paths, but I shall hear that story another time. Now, if you will excuse me for a moment. I need to pay my respects.”

Stepping before the hair-raising effigy hanging from the ceiling, Carmelia looked up at it with a solemn expression.

“I’ve kept you waiting——Mother.”

For a moment, at least ten seconds, Izumi froze completely, unable to move a muscle, or make a sound. She even forgot to breathe. Then, blood rushed into her head again and, a pulsating hum in her ears, she stammered,

“W-what did you say, just now…?”

“Surprised?” the sorceress asked. “It is not a statue you look upon. It is my mother, High Queen Lebennaum. Or what remains of her.”

“I...ah...err...” Izumi struggled to think of what to say. It was a rather shocking revelation. Before she could decide on anything worthwhile, Carmelia resumed with an explanation.

“It was in early autumn,” she recounted. “The Berennoldt line, our last major defensive perimeter, was breached by the daemons. The capital had to be evacuated. The masses of refugees pooled to the east, looking in vain for a shelter, the royal family among them. On the way, my mother sent the rest of us ahead and took to the south herself, to pass through the province of Elevro, where her sons had their house. Even though we had reports of enemy activity in the region. Perhaps motherly love made the decision for her, some manner of a protective instinct that overpowered her reasoning? Or perhaps she thought that under her lead, they could still stop the assault and force it back? At the time, many were still under the illusion that they were fighting a conventional war, against a foe that could be strategically outmaneuvered and defeated by numbers and tactics. Oh well, no one may know her purpose now.”

Carmelia paused for a moment, before continuing the heavy story.

“Elevro was overrun in one night. The casualties numbered in tens of thousands. Men, women, children. Warriors, civilians. The daemons care little. When the news finally reached us, carried by the few survivors, we went blind with rage. Unable to bear the tragedy, we amassed all available forces and mounted a senseless counterattack. We fought like beasts to reclaim the land. And by a miracle, we did. Or perhaps, were allowed to. In order to find—this.”

Izumi had thought the figure was disturbing before.

Now she couldn’t even bear to look at it anymore.

Forcing her gaze onto the floor, she suppressed the urge to run away, and listened on.

“Her arms and legs had been severed. Her tongue had been torn out of her mouth. For a week, she had lain in the ruins of Elevro, tortured and alone, surrounded by the corpses of her sons and retainers. Yet—she did not die. A bearer of the royal bloodline dating back to the days when Gods still walked this earth, life burned fierce in her. The curse of silen devehra could not overcome her soul, and so, my mother was ultimately rescued. But while the body persisted, the mind could not. Not responding to anything, not moving at all, not making a sound, she has remained in a state of uninterrupted catatonia to this day. As you can see.”

“Why…?” Izumi blurted, unable to contain herself any longer.

“—Why didn’t they kill her and free her from the agony?” Carmelia completed the loathsome thought. “It might have been the most merciful thing to do, to end her suffering then and there, rather than have it carry on for all eternity. But who could have done the deed? Whose hands would be worthy of touching her, of ending her? Who could take responsibility for murdering the Queen Most High? The killer being executed would not be enough to bring such a sin to balance. Beyond abominable, it was unthinkable. My Father could not endure the thought. And neither could I.”

The sorceress turned away.

“We did all we could to ease her suffering and give her peace. My mother now serves as a warning for the emiri—a reminder of what happens when one defies nature in his hubris. But we cirelo see a different meaning in her fate. Never may we allow such a tragedy to befall any living soul again. To stop the nightmare, we must fight it. Resist it to our last breath. Allowing it to exist means to surrender to it, to enable it. Seeing my mother for one last time, I am reaffirmed in my conviction.”

Turning around, Carmelia concluded her story.

“Come now. We had best be on our way. Though I may be the Queen Mother's descendant, our hosts will not approve of my visit here.”

Izumi followed after the sorceress, glad to leave the eerie chamber.

“But, why the creepy mask...?” she asked on the way back.

Izumi knew she shouldn’t have, that it was too tactless, but the question haunted her. An inexplicable compulsion drove her tongue.

“Her face was not mauled, if such concerns you,” Carmelia answered the woman’s childishness with commendable patience. But on this topic, even the sorceress’s usual composure showed signs of faltering. “However...her eyes could not be closed. The ceaseless stare of them was too much for anyone to tolerate. Regardless of her state, it was not the look of someone unconscious. That gaze drove people into insanity. Her features had to be covered.”

On the way back to the elevator, Izumi could swear she felt the stare of the unseen eyes on her back, even through the doors. There was such a thing as knowing too much, she thought, determined never again to return to that haunting hall, if only it could be avoided.