There was another stunned, yet shorter, silence.

“…I can’t believe we haven’t asked all this time,” said Roah with a half-sigh, half-groan, shaking his head.

That more or less summed up Niu’s thoughts on the matter as well. The days seemed to be the same and there wasn’t any particular need to refer to months or years until now—no, actually, they have referred to it, one time.

Niu was the first to raise this question by raising her slate.

Then does that count for your age, too?

It had happened not too long after they arrived. They were still distraught and confused about many things, not to mention being in the midst of the tense trek to Kalden. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t thought of delving into it ever since and merely accepted it as fact. It had seemed at first as a source of major shock—that the fairies lived up to be hundreds of years old. However, everything was now overturned with that new piece of information.

Seele kept smiling, though their smile transformed into a more solemn one. “It does.”

“Seele… do you know what we refer to as a ‘year’?” asked Roah.

“No, but I can guess from your reactions it’s much longer than us, right?”

Roah nodded. “Forty days in a month, ten months in a year.”

“Month,” said Seele, as if to taste the word, “I didn’t know that term.”

“If my very rough calculations are correct,” said Roah, furrowing his brows, “then you should be about 40 years old in Plainland years.”

Niu gazed at Seele. Never mind the originally claimed 407, they sure didn’t look like they were 40, either. It was abnormal either way.

“I see. Actually, I thought you sounded a bit too small, when you all told me you were fourteen… but then again, we also develop fast, so I just thought faeries developed even faster,” said Seele, still with that same kind of slightly sad smile.

Does that mean that fairies only live to around 50, then? Niu asked.

“By your reckoning, it seems that way,” replied TriX.

“This is… so messed up,” mumbled Gen, fist clenched, then hurriedly added, “err, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“…It’s fine, I understand. I guess we should have had this conversation earlier.”

Niu further considered the implications of this in the ensuing lull. In the past, humans too lived up to only their fifties or so, but with advancements in medicine and farming leading to better care and nutrition, lifespans went up as well. Currently people could live well into their seventies or even eighties.

On the other hand, the society of fairies seemed much more advanced, at least in certain areas, but they only lived up to their fifties or so? Was the classification of “months” as “years” a simple mistranslation, or perhaps an attempt to make their life seem longer that it was?

“Please don’t look so sad,” Seele asked. “In the past apparently we used to live far longer, but things changed with time. We also started giving birth less and less… but you know what?” they widened their smile. “I think you’re going to change it.”

“U-us?” asked Shaya.

“I’m sure the contact with your world will change things. And anyway, we’re already used to this—so you don’t need to worry at all!” Seele said. However, that was easier said than done. “Oh… so is it not a good time for the sweet, then?” they added with an awkward laugh.

“Do you derive enjoyment of doing such things without first consulting with me?” asked Aisbroom’s flat voice. As usual, they were standing—never invited to sit down, of course—near the throne for a discussion with the Ruler. And as usual, Acrus wore an expression that was a mix of amusement and gloating.

“Is that a complaint, my general?” Acrus asked back.

“It is a question. I merely believe it is prudent to let me know of such things in advance,” said Aisbroom, their expression not faltering in the least.

“You see, there is a reason why I haven’t told you.” Acrus shifted their legs on the throne. It was made from lacquered, crimson-colored wood that was almost as soft as rubber, so it was probably the most comfortable seat in all of Kalden. “I knew you wouldn’t have agreed to it. Worse, you may have tried to stop it.”

“I would have done no such thing,” Aisbroom calmly replied. “Your will is the will of the kingdom. I just like to know what is happening. Especially when it regards such underhanded dealings in the party.”

“And allow you the chance to plan your eventual revenge more efficiently? I do not think so,” said Acrus with a flippant smile. If they were trying to elicit some response from Aisbroom, however, they failed in doing so, for Aisbroom’s expression was as unreadable as ever.

“I do, however,” Aisbroom finally spoke, “wonder if that course of action is wise. And during the Grand Feast, no less?”

Acrus’s smile lessened. “I will generously ignore your doubts about my wisdom. But you do not have to worry, my loyal general; everything was taken under consideration. Besides, we do not stand to lose anything.”

“What about the possible loss of life? And we might also lose a valuable resource, namely the faeries,” said Aisbroom.

The Ruler snorted. “Even one is as good as four. Should I favor your disciple, while we’re on the subject?”

“They are no disciple of mine.”

“Riiight,” Acrus said. “Aisbroom, you should simply lean back and enjoy the festivities. Well, and serve your role as my bodyguard, but that goes without saying.”

Goes without saying, does it? Not only do you disregard the fact we are currently at war and hold this Feast in the first place, but you even hinder my security arrangements for said Feast with some idiotic plan. No matter how many years I serve at your side, I will never understand your true aims, thought Aisbroom. Outwardly, however, they only said, “Understood.”

After a short pause Acrus spoke again as if just recalling something. “By the way, you didn’t seem that surprised about me being Seeded.”

“I was surprised, trust me,” said Aisbroom emotionlessly. “Though I know you were probably planning it for a long time. It was a bold move, but an effective one; already there are talks of the continued prosperity of the kingdom. That, combined with the Feast, should secure the cooperation of both citizens and allies.”

Acrus sighed. “Of course, of course, I know all about that. But what I am wondering is something else entirely. At first I wondered whether you are so grumpy because you will not get to enjoy the Feast itself.” There they paused, leaning a bit forward and smiling mysteriously. “Or else… are you perhaps jealous, with you being, unlike me, barren?”

There was only the slightest of changes to Aisbroom’s expression. Their eyebrows lowered almost imperceptibly.

“I guess not,” finally said Acrus after a strained silence. “I apologize for having misjudged you. Now, I am sure you have plenty of matters to attend to.”

With nothing on their face to indicate their inner tumult, Aisbroom bowed elegantly and left. There were, indeed, matters to attend to—including the preparations for the next battle. For although Acrus told nothing about it to the populace, not wanting to ruin their morale and keep their attention on the Grand Feast, it had been confirmed not long ago.

A third wave was currently on its way.

“No.” Gen’s voice was harsh and resolute. “No. There is no way in this side of the world that I’m wearing that. Never.”

Even Niu couldn’t help but suppress a smile. Roah, too, looked like he was about to burst laughing, a nasty smile spreading on his face. He was probably lucky that Gen was too occupied to notice his expression.

“Aww, why not? It’s very cute.” Seele sounded disappointed.

“…That’s the exact problem!”

Come noon, the four had been taken to one of the shortest trees in Kalden in a district known for its textile work. This was, apparently, a clothes shop that served even the Ruler. They had been sent there to acquire their formal wear, but encountered a problem almost immediately: all clothes offered to them were dresses.

Currently, Seele was holding out a cream-colored, flowing garment toward Gen, claiming that it fit the color of his eyes. However, he was having none of it. He was even blushing in embarrassment at the mere thought.

Seele sighed. “Are you sure? Maybe another color, then?”

“No!” he immediately replied. “I-I… we don’t wear things for girls… right, Roah?” Despite their usual rivalry, he looked for help from the other boy.

“Huh, don’t we?” Roah said. “I think it’d look good on you,” he added with a smile.

“Y-you traitor!” Gen raised a fist.

Shaya giggled but said, “Come on, stop teasing him. Um, Seele, are there really no other kinds of clothes?”

She herself was clad in a violet-colored dress. She lacked a unified elegance—Seele had claimed that before the party they’d be able to get makeup, have their hair done and such—but still looked fancy enough. As the average fairy was much slimmer the dress was a bit tight for her, but not suffocating. In fact, she seemed to enjoy wearing it.

“Well… I’m sure that can be arranged,” Seele conceded, seemingly disappointed. They started talking to the attendants around, all of them silent thus far due to the language barrier.

Gen sighed and walked away gingerly as if to distance himself from the cursed clothes. He then cleared his throat. “Err… looking good, Shaya. You too, Niu.”

“Thanks!” Shaya said, beaming.

Niu smiled awkwardly. In contrast to Shaya, she was extremely uncomfortable. Her entire life was spent in the cheapest possible sorts of clothes, mostly ones that had been patched many times over, so she felt unworthy for this kind of clothing. Some of it was also a bit revealing. Right now, however, she wore what was not much more than a long blouse. It was, at least, breezy and non-gaudy, unlike what Shaya was wearing.

“Aren’t you excited, Niu?” Shaya asked her. Then, perhaps finally realizing that she was several magnitudes more enthusiastic than her friend, she bashfully averted her gaze.

Niu merely shrugged; she didn’t feel like having a party at all, especially not while dolled up like this. Even if there was also a part of her that wished she could fully enjoy it and take her mind off of things.

“How come you’re the only one not dressed?” Gen asked Roah angrily.

“Hmm? Oh, that’s thanks to you. I told them I’d wear whatever you’ll choose,” he answered calmly.

“Why you little…”

“Gen, Gen!” Seele called from behind, holding out another piece of cloth. “How about this one?”

“That’s a skirt! Ughhh…”

While about three layers of bars separated Salom from the beast, he didn’t feel safe at all.

That was to be expected; he’d seen with his very eyes that even steel doors wouldn’t be able to keep these monsters at check. He was pretty sure the main reason the dark creature hadn’t managed to escape was because it was weakened.

Although this one—a beast that looked to be a cross between a spider, a bear and a rat—was the only living specimen they managed to procure during the last wave, they have been learning quite a bit about it.

First of all, as had been already surmised, it was extremely weak against any form of channeling. Conversely, anything purely physical didn’t affect it as much as expected. Currently it was wrapped in chains, but it had already displayed the ability to break them easily; plates inscribed with weight icons served to keep it in place.

Everything seemed to point to the beast being somehow channeling-related. They were unable to get samples of its flesh, since every cut was healed and whatever had been cut off completely, promptly vanished into thin air. It was extremely aggressive toward humans, but had no interest in any meat that was presented to it; furthermore, it didn’t seem to require any food at all, though it was visibly weakening as time went on, with its already-blurry outlines becoming even fainter.

Salom finished reading the latest reports—though they found nothing new, so it was mostly reporting on the monster’s current condition—and once again glanced at the subject.

The beast snarled weakly, looking like it was ready to pounce on Salom at any moment. But of course, even without the bars there were half a dozen guards pacing around the rooms and another half a dozen outside at all times. The University wasn’t pleased that one of its rooms was being used this way, but the Queen overruled their objections immediately, as it was felt that this was the place best suited for this kind of research.

Salom sighed quietly. “Thank you,” he said to the personnel that brought him in, “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Need any help, Professor?”

“Thank you, but there’s no need,” he replied with a smile, nodding slightly and starting to roll himself toward the exit. The guard nearest the steel door opened it for him. Salom thought he heard a low growl from the beast behind, but didn’t turn back, and left.

Well, that burned an hour or so. It wasn’t that Salom actually was that interested in the black monsters—he was, but they’d already squeezed out pretty much every drop of information they could from that one single specimen—but he used that more as a distraction. This current month was understandably very hectic and it only grew worse, so that was almost equivalent to a break. He started understanding how Stard usually handled this.

He passed through the streets of Copius. They used to be boisterous and full of people, but lately it had become almost a ghost town. The number of people itself hadn’t changed; after all, with the damage incurred by the waves many people have lost their homes. This included both those who lived in the city as well as fugitive from other nearby towns. Salom was glad that the Queen was the one who needed to take care of that and not him, but that was small comfort.

Normal life there was hurt by the circumstances and crime was on the rise, so perhaps it wasn’t wise of Salom to loiter around by himself, but he felt that at least the University district was safe enough still. Besides, rolling himself allowed him to prolong a little the time until his next task.

With an apparent new wave approaching as well, work would never stop. They were all still toiling on the communication system as well as many other small projects to aid them in their time of need.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit that he was finally starting to feel his age. He was constantly tired in ways he’d never felt before.

“Professor Saburn.” A sudden voice came from nearby. As he turned his head around, he saw a young soldier standing there. It was Gen’s brother Revol.

“Ah, hello,” Salom greeted him with a tired smile. “I heard you’ve been hurt during the wave, but I see you’re up and running again.”

Revol returned a similarly tired smile. “Well, I lived. Unlike other people.” Once saying that, both men cast their glances down.

Saburn had wanted to tell the young man about his brother’s survival very, very much, but that was not possible. He’d suggested that they could at least release that information to the children’s relatives, but the Queen immediately denied it.

He understood the rationale, of course. The more people that knew about it, the harder it was to prevent leaks. Even so, he felt like he wanted to at least put some people at ease.

“It’s not over yet, and we both have our jobs to do… so I pray for you stay strong,” Salom finally said. He wasn’t Stard, so that was the extent of what he could do for the young man.

Revol nodded. “Thank you. I hope so as well,” he said with only a faint smile. “Well then… where are you going, Professor? Need a hand?”

“To the palace,” he replied. “Thank you, but that will not necessary. I’m sure you are busy as well.”

Revol laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, just trying to take my mind off of things.”

“All of us.”

As they parted and took on their separate ways, Salom couldn’t help but think how Revol was both like and unlike his younger brother. And he hoped that he could unite them soon.

Come evening, the clothes fiasco had yet to be solved; with Gen’s rejection of anything that was even a slight bit girly, he wasn't left with many options. Seele had concluded that they simply ought to order something custom-made, and so Gen’s measurements had been taken. The same went for Roah as well, after he’d finished gloating and laughing from the side. The two girls, meanwhile, have already made their decision.

After going back and having dinner, it just so happened that Roah and Seele were left alone in the dining room.

“It really was a shock, you know,” he suddenly said.

“Hmm? What was? —Oh, you mean this morning.”

Roah nodded. “I felt pretty stupid just taking for granted that we…” he shook his head, “well, never mind that. It’s just like we feel with our measly several decades when you thought that you had way more than that.”

“I didn’t think you be disturbed by that, actually.”

“I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed at the moment,” he said, shrugging.

“What does that word mean? Over…thing.”

“Hmm, it means being affected by something very strongly, whether physically or emotionally.”

“Ah, I think I understand. So it's like…” Seele said a word in their language, thus teaching him another new word.

“Thanks, noted. By the way, this is a complete change in subject, but… do you believe that we’ll ever get home?”

Seele was silent for a few moments. Their expression twitched for a bit and they bit their lips. “Well, I hope so for you.”

“But you don’t believe it.”

“You’re making this hard for me,” Seele said with a smile.

Roah kept his face emotionless. “I just want the truth.” He knew fully well that Seele preferred to act bubbly and optimistic and not to dwell on any negatives. However, he wanted his information to be as accurate as possible, and Seele was currently the best source for it.

“I…” Seele hesitated. “I don’t know what to say. The situation is complicated as it is. And it’s not like they tell me everything. But I don’t think we have any way to get you back right now.”

“And what do you think about the Ruler?” Roah suddenly attacked a completely different topic, purposely catching Seele by surprise.

“I-I don't really…”

“You don’t like them. In fact, I wonder if anyone in this entire city does.”

“T-that’s not true!” Seele hurriedly replied. “The people… respect the Ruler—”

“Respect is not love,” Roah interjected, leaning forward on the table. “And I don’t know if it’s even respect, or just fear. Seele… you’ve told us that the Plainland project stopped about 200 years ago. But now that I know it’s much less than that… does it have anything to do with Acrus?”

Once again Seele seemed hesitant, but at last spoke. “Yes, that was when Acrus came to rule.”

“And under what circumstances did that happen?” he kept investigating. Seele glanced around sheepishly, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them.

“He killed the previous Ruler,” they said quietly.

A coup d'état, then? So that was probably why they didn’t like the current Ruler, Roah imagined. Especially if the previous Ruler was well-liked. It also meant that Acrus probably disposed of any opposition; Roah wouldn’t be surprised to find out if there were numerous other failed attempts of coup d'état later.

Well, that was nothing but speculation, though. He had a lot to ask, but knew that prying too much would cause even Seele to close up. He now realized the source of their fears to speak ill of their Ruler.

“Did the Ruler also stop the development of laborers?” he asked instead.

“Wha…” Seele mumbled. “How did you know that?”

So he was right. “It was just a guess, actually,” Roah replied. “I just imagined that a nation that started using this kind of invention hundreds of years ago—well, now I know it’s not true, but still—would have many more laborers by now. But even here in the capital I’d seen only a handful. Consequently, I had the feeling that all development had been stopped along with the attempts at communication, and I don’t know what else.”

Seele sighed. “You really notice everything. Even without me telling you things.”

“Sorry. I was always like that.”

“You were, huh.” Suddenly Seele furrowed their brows and lowered their gaze, sinking into their thoughts. Had Roah gone too far? This should probably conclude his round of questioning, then. But just as he thought this, he was surprised by Seele’s next words. “Roah… you're not planning to become the next Ruler, right?”

“What—” he uttered, caught unprepared. Then he laughed. “Is that what you think?”

“I, I don’t know. With all the questions…” they looked worriedly at him.

Roah shook his head. “I’m not fit to be a king at all. They’d all hate me just the same. Besides, I have no way of doing… that.” Not now, at least. “It would be suicidal, considering my position.”

Seele sighed in relief, wearing a smile. “Good, I was worried for a second you’d try something stupid.”

But Seele’s worries were justified, even if they didn’t know it, for Roah did have a plan. He couldn’t just sit there and wait for a miracle or pray for things to go well, but he was also just as powerless as he said. He did, however, have his cunning.

Even the fire was only a small part of it. He both gained a bit of a name for himself as well as managed to ascertain a threat he could use over the kingdom if he ever needed to. It had been quite the big risk for a very small result, but he felt that it would be worth it.

There were many factors he had to take into account, and some things he had yet to test, but he thought that his plan was worth a chance… the only trouble was that he still lacked something.

His plan was currently nearly impossible with the resources and information that he had. However, he had the feeling that there was something nearby he was missing, something that would help him take that next step. Would he find it in time, though?

Rumdon’s capital of Copius housed many of the kingdom’s nobles. Their position had somewhat been weakened following the loss of the previous King, Mekuriel-N, but none of them were going down without a fight. Most banded together to make as much trouble as possible for Levia, headed by one Lord Qumisson.

The Marstens were one such family. They owned the ground on the outskirts of the city, a location that also helped them avoid most of the damages incurred by the waves. The Marstens were in charge of textile work and the wineries of Rumdon, the former of which also served well in these hard times. Lord Qumisson, who usually resided in a town way further down the mountain, was currently lodging in the Marsten mansion.

He was drinking fine tea in his chambers, served to him by one of the Marsten household servants, when there was a knock on the door.

“You may enter,” Qumisson said.

Opening the door was a short, bald man. He was dressed smartly and elegantly, yet seemed too jittery and nervous to be an actual noble. His name was Moger, and he was one of Lord Qumisson’s stewards.

“Pardon my lateness, milord,” the man greeted him, using a handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his brows.

Qumisson faintly nodded. “Come and have a seat, my friend. Shall I have them bring out another cup?”

Moger shook his head and did as he was told while still slightly fidgeting. He then cleared his throat and wet his lips. “I apologize, milord; I have disappointed you,” he finally said. There was no change to Qumisson’s expression.

“Have you found out nothing?”

“Nary a clue, milord. The Queen’s defenses against information leakage are, as of now, yet too thick to penetrate.”

“I do know how careful that smug snake is,” said Qumisson.

“And yet, I do apologize again,” said Moger, bowing.

“Come now, friend.” Qumisson put his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, smiling. "It is but a mere setback; do not act as if you've let me down."

Lord Qumisson was known as cold, calculating and strict, and that reputation helped carry him through power, with the Queen being almost the only person who wasn’t intimidated of him. If she could even be intimidated by anything at all. However, there was still a reason for the fierce, warm loyalty of all his servants and subjects.

“…Thank you, milord,” said Moger, bowing once again.

“Our battle has only just begun, Moger,” Qumisson announced, grabbing the decorated stick near his chair. He rose from his seat, his stick used more for fashion rather than a genuine need. He paced toward the window, glancing at the almost empty streets. “That woman has many secrets, so we will definitely pluck out some of them before long.”

It had been so much easier with the previous king, her father, and the (very) temporary king, her husband. However, both were dead—and he still suspected that at least one of them had been made so by the Queen’s own hands—and the country had been subsequently led to deteriorate. He couldn’t forgive this.

He, who had served as the King’s close aide and confidant, had been cast aside. Actually, since he was the King’s cousin, he was the one most suitable to replace him, but instead that wretched woman took control.

Being in the King’s confidence he knew some state secrets, and so he could suspect how Levia was using some of them. However, her security was extremely tight, and he couldn’t act based on mere suppositions and guesses. Especially not when she could read his heart with her cursed ability, while on the other hand he never could understand what was going through that head of hers no matter how much he tried.

“Actually, milord,” Moger said suddenly, cutting the thread of Qumisson’s thought. “I’ve just recalled. Although it is not, in and of itself, worthy of attention… perhaps there is something deeper going there.”

“Hmm? What is it? Even if irrelevant, I assume it’s of some interest, since you have pointed that out.”

Moger nodded. “You do remember Professor Saburn, of course.”

“That mock-noble… indeed. Yes, he has apparently been involved in current matters.”

“Not only that, but he has apparently taken a protégé; the young daughter of the Mordack family.”

Qumisson thought for a while. “Yes, she also is part of the army, if I recall. Is there something happening with the two of them? An affair, perhaps?” His mind instantly wandered to whatever would offer him an advantage. Well, both of them were unmarried so it wouldn’t be such a big scandal, but still.

“Not quite, milord—or at least, it does not appear so,” Moger replied. “However, both were seen regularly coming to the palace as of late. Lord Saburn is perhaps to be expected… but the Mordack girl, not so much.”

“So there might be something going there, then.” Qumisson’s mind accelerated further. “And the girl might be the key to getting that information.”

“Exactly so, milord.”

Qumisson thought for a while, then nodded. “Good work. I have heard that she is young, impressionable and inexperienced. If she is involved, then it might greatly benefit us. We can try and pursue that avenue.” He patted Moger on the shoulder again. “I am pleased. Keep me informed about this matter, if you will.”

“Gladly, milord.”

Oobab—that was the name of one of Kalden’s most peculiar trees. The name meant “barrel-like”, and it came from the fact that while the tree was short, relatively speaking, it was extremely thick. Each floor could hold about 500 people. For this reason and others, it was used to house all sorts of great events.

The second floor of Oobab served as the largest hall. Its northern edge was raised into a platform that overlooked the entire hall. Acrus Kalden stood on that stage, solemnly gazing on the vast audience. In contrast to the usual, the Ruler wore an extravagant outfit; a dress made of the finest cotton, billowing waves of cold colors that accentuated Acrus’s relatively pale complexion. Their hair was styled with many rings and curls with warm colors to contrast that.

Not far from them also stood Aisbroom, surprisingly in their regular outfit—white clothes with a wild assortment of plants on clothes and hair. While Acrus seemed to be sneering over the audience, Aisbroom instead scanned them, wary and alert for anything that might endanger the Ruler. Other attendants and guards waited to the sides of the stages, far from the glowing bulbs suspended from the ceiling.

Acrus clapped their hands, causing the low murmur of the crowd to gradually settle down into silence. Nodding after perhaps finding it satisfactory, Acrus began to speak.

“Welcome, everyone,” their voice echoed. “Many people have been invited here tonight by me. I do thank you all for coming.” They smiled and spread their arms. “We are at war, but like I have said before, there is also much to celebrate. Other than me and my future scion, I also dedicate this Feast to some particular, unique guests: our very own faeries.”

Immediately the entire hall focused their eyes on the four faeries sitting near the front of the stage in the table especially reserved to them. Their presence wasn’t a state secret or anything like that, what with them even taking part in the fight against the wave, but most citizens only heard the rumors, even among those of high society who were invited to the Feast.

There were once again waves of muttering in the crowd, so Acrus clapped once again to silence them.

“You will have plenty of time to interact with them or whisper about them, so do not worry,” they said with a smile. “Well, there will be some language difficulties, but do as you will. Now then…” Acrus paused, glancing all over the audience. Everyone’s positions were clear from the stage. The faeries, the ambassadors, the royal court and so on and so on… but there were also some enemies afoot, even if he couldn’t directly see them. “I will not tire you out with my speech any longer. You will have music, and you will have food. Let the Grand Feast begin!”

All of the flowers falling by

The spring reflected in my eye