As Dia gazed out into the dark, moonless night, the only thing she could think about was the profound sense of fear she held towards the darkened sky. The three Moons were now discs of darkness, and even the streetlights of Licencia, which had tripled in number and coverage ever since Claud took over security, seemed feeble under the swath of shadows.

She had been waiting there for an hour or so, simply watching as the night deepened. Some frightened screams had entered her ears, but she didn’t quite know if these sounds were just a trick of her mind or something else entirely.

“It’s scary.” Schwarz, who was standing at the entrance of Moon Mansion with her and Farah, shook his head. “Why at night, Claud?”

“It’s safer,” Claud replied from behind them. “My initial analysis has revealed that most clandestine activity has stopped in the night. I sent some people to check it out, and it would seem that the spies and other ne’er-do-wells don’t see a point in trying to do anything in such a deep darkness. For the thieves, everyone’s at home, while for those trying to spy on developments, it’s too dark to actually ascertain any useful information.”

“Geh, you scared me,” said Dia, turning around to glare at the Moon Lord who was in charge of security. Under the artificial lighting of Moon Mansion, his face seemed a tad foreign. Most of his facial features were wreathed in shadow, casting the visible bits into stark relief.

For a moment, he looked like a bird of prey.

“I’m on your side,” said Claud. “Right, Lily?”

“There’s no need to be scared of him,” Lily, who was hiding in Claud’s shadow, stepped out. “Also, do these visual effects look good?”

“Visual effects?” Dia stared at Claud and Lily, and then widened her eyes. “Wait a minute. Little wonder that these shadows looked so unnatural. You could definitely scare a whole bunch of people if you were to prowl around at dusk or dawn like this.”

“Right?” Claud asked, dispelling the deep darkness around his face. “We got this from some nice artefact store. You two should take one. Use it when you’re walking out, and anyone who sees you will start doubting their sanity.”

“…That’s your plan?”

“It’s a second plan,” Claud replied.

“The third,” said Lily, “are these chains. If there’s still people following you, just drop the chains on the ground and drag them along. Almost everyone would flee once this happens; we tested it out earlier.”

Dia thought back to the terrifying screams she had heard earlier, and then glared at Claud and Lily, who passed her the chain and a little ring.

“See that button there?” Lily asked, pointing to a black circle on the grey ring. It was subtle enough that no one could spot it without any prior knowledge. “Just press it, and for the next thirty minutes, you’ll be disguised!”

“By darkness and fear,” Claud added.

The two handed the same items over to Farah, who accepted them helplessly.

“I’m not going to say anything much,” said Risti, who had just arrived on the scene, but good luck to you guys. I’ve made a skillstick for Skyward Eye, so do use it if you ever see the need to.”

Schwarz passed Farah a small bag. “Full of apple juice. Make sure not to let Dia drink it all.”

“Hey.”

After everyone else offered a bit more advice, as well as some more little snacks and a bunch of HELPS — which was short for ‘High Energy, Large Portion Servings’. It was as if they didn’t actually have enough, and after Dia and Farah refused some of their more excessive offerings, the two of them left Moon Mansion.

Dia glanced back at the sturdy dome of her home, and then sighed.

“You could still turn back now,” said Farah.

“Yeah, no. I owe you many things. Protecting you is the least I can do,” said Dia. “Besides, you’re in need of good fighters, right? I don’t think you’re going to get ordinary people to protect Duke…Ruler Istrel when he comes along.”

“I might have to, if push comes to shove. We don’t have many mana-users there, and there are restrictions on sub-folders.” Farah rubbed her head.

“Restrictions?” Dia picked up on that word.

As they turned onto the main street, Farah nodded. “Yes. Restrictions. While sub-folders are not that different from full-fledged mana-users, sub-folders have a tendency not to do any manual work. They’ll rather search for a territory to hire them as mages, or, failing which, try to trick a bunch of foolish idiots into working under them and become an outlaw organisation.”

“Eh?”

“Yeah, that’s how it is,” said Farah, her voice quiet. “It is said that around four thousand years ago, the phenomenon of there being too many sub-folders roused the ire of Emperor Grandis, due to general unproductivity, and in his rage, he ordered a purge of these people.”

“A purge?”

“Killing them or enslaving them all,” Farah replied. “After that, he did something to wipe out the knowledge of sub-folders from the common masses, before decreeing that knowledge about sub-folders are to be restricted. Any noble that defies this decree will be stripped of their title and executed on the spot upon discovery.”

“By the Shadows of Grandis?” Dia asked, guessing the first organisation that came to her mind.

“By the Shadows of Grandis,” Farah replied, affirming her guess with a nod of her head. “As for organisations with mana-users, they’ll be completely destroyed if such knowledge were to proliferate.”

“…That’s why you got me to screen out a whole bunch of Moon Guards?”

“Yes,” said Farah. “The Shadows of Grandis are especially merciless in this regard. Even the Emperor’s children and descendants are not spared from this decree. The Emperor is very thorough in preventing the proliferation of such information. Schwarz knows about it — we brought this up in passing some time ago — but it’s not really something that would affect us.”

Dia nodded her head slowly. “True. That said, I don’t like it.”

“Well, your mistress might,” said Farah. “It’s meant to protect the existing power structures of nobility, as well as to ensure a stable flow of resources upwards and downwards.”

Their conversation paused as they approached the city gates. The guards there were very familiar with the Moon Lords, and after some conversation and verification, the two of them passed through the gates without incident.

A sea of shadows was all they could see.

“…Can we just go in the morning?” Dia asked. “This is really scary. I don’t think the previous years were this dark.”

“Dark, great Dark…you know.” Farah chuckled nervously. “Now I see why they were looking at me with such an odd light in their eyes. Well, don’t worry. We can make our way there easily. There’s already a nice track for us to walk on, so just don’t step away from it.”

“I must have been addled when I agreed to Claud’s suggestion,” Dia mumbled, but she obeyed Farah’s words anyway. It didn’t take long for Farah to work out her bearings, and after a while, the two of them had started on their journey proper.

“So, what were we talking about again?” Farah asked.

“…Let’s talk about more cheerful things instead,” Dia replied. “Purges, Shadows of Grandis…these conversation topics aren’t really what I want to talk about right now.”

“Cheerful topics…well, there is an ongoing festival in Farah County right now,” said the countess. “Unlike Licencia, the City of Trades, my territory is an agricultural one. It’s harvest time for moonwheat, and my people are rejoicing.”

“Moonwheat?”

“A local produce of Farah…”

“Wait, hold up,” said Dia. “I’m getting a bit confused now, since you and your territory share the same name. Is there another way I could call you or something? It’ll be a pain if I have to call you Countess Farah all the time.”

“Is it really that bad?” The countess made a little sound. “People usually call me Farah, so I might not respond to you in time. And I didn’t think there was a problem back then, even in my territory.”

“It’s quite impersonal, so…” Dia patted her shoulder, a touch of pity in her heart. “You should have told us. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone knows to call you by…by…”

Her voice trailed away. “Yeah, you didn’t kinda introduce your full name, did you?”

“Ehe.”

“Don’t ‘ehe’ me,” Dia replied, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, what should I call you?”

“Farah’s my first name,” she replied.

“What?” Dia scrunched up her face. “But your territory’s named Farah. How does that work? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Long story. How about you?” Farah asked. “Your original name and your current name…”

“Well, you can just treat me as the real thing,” Dia replied. “Please keep doing that. Just think of me as her, and everything will be fine. Got it?”

“Acting as a scapegoat is not an enviable job,” the countess murmured. “Still shouldn’t your pursuers all already know that you’re a fake? Why do you still keep up the pretence?”

“There are many reasons,” Dia replied, “one of which is, uh, how the revelation of my true identity will prompt Princess Dia to resurface in Grandis. It’s a signal, see?”

She wasn’t lying in that regard — once Dia revealed that she was actually not a double and was the real thing, the personage everyone knew as Princess Dia would obviously reappear in society.

It still hurt to lie, though.

Fobbing off any further questions, Dia began to ask about moonwheat, venturing deeper into the darkness altogether.