1

The morning was misty and damp, with pale, ashen clouds looming low over the treetops. The formerly green slope had been trampled muddy by the dozens of men working on the palisade all day yesterday, until the peaceful night. It would take a summer or two before the grass would grow there again with prior vitality. Today, the dark, beaten earth served as an adequate companion to the foreboding skies.

The outpost's defenses were successfully completed within the time frame given, and now an exemplary palisade surrounded the buildings from all sides, like a long row of sharpened teeth. It posed an indomitable obstacle to unlikely bandits, basilisks, wolves, perhaps even unicorns. A moat as well had dug and the woodcutters were now adding the finishing touches by poking sharpened sticks at the bottom of it.

Safety had been attained, but not many were able to enjoy it.

“There, say aah,” Izumi said, lifting a spoon.

“I can eat by myself!” Yuliana bashfully insisted.

“Now, now. Don't be difficult. It's hard by yourself, isn't it?”

In the little yard left before the cabins, in front of the main entryway, two thick poles had been hammered deep into the earth, a distance away from one another. Large metal hoops had been nailed into the poles and in those hoops, two prisoners had their hands bound tightly with chains.

There, starting from the second period on, or roughly six in the morning, they were to suffer their punishment for desertion, until otherwise stated. The Princess of Langoria on the right, her brave knight on the left. By their sorry state, anyone entering the outpost could see for themselves the fruits of cowardice vividly illustrated.

Though prisoners escaping their captors couldn't exactly be compared to soldiers fleeing the front line, the two were treated as such nevertheless, perhaps as a sign that the Imperials had already taken them for their own. This observation wrung the princess's conscience only that much more painfully.

Still, as far as corporal punishments went, theirs was a light one.

Because the two guards Brian had knocked out regained consciousness and their mild injuries were quickly treated by the wizard, the escapees were shown mercy. Had the men been killed, Brian would've equally faced the penalty of death. Yuliana had her royal status to shield her life in any event, but she still felt deeply grateful to her past self for telling the man to show restraint.

Not that it made their present situation any less disgraceful.

“How could I forget about the geas...” Yuliana lamented. “I'm so stupid!”

“There, there,” Izumi said, crouching before the girl, a breakfast bowl in her hand. “Your porridge is going cold.”

The chains were so short, that Yuliana had to keep her hands slightly raised while seated. She could've still eaten normally by herself if only she stood up close to the pole. Yet, for some strange reason, Izumi insisted on feeding her instead.

Yuliana failed to appreciate the assistance, as she felt it only added to the humiliation.

The Imperials could have easily treated Izumi and Riswelze as the runaway princess's partners in crime and have them share the punishment, but the mobile kitchen staff vouched for the innocence of their assistant. There was no way Izumi could have conspired with anybody while busy stirring soup. The assassin's presence, on the other hand, was elusive enough to bring into question whether such a person was even present. Thus, neither had their freedom restrained by any orders.

No one particularly cared whether they stayed or left in the first place. Rather, the two of them running away would've reduced the number of mouths to be fed.

“Why do you still bother with me?” Yuliana asked the woman, dejected. “Don't you despise me? I did such a thing, yet...”

“Hm?” Izumi raised her brows. “You did something you shouldn't have?”

“I was about to leave you behind! Doesn't that make you angry? Don't you feel hurt and betrayed? We've been through so much together and I was about to turn my back on all that. I deserve no kindness! I believed I was doing it for the best of my kingdom, but...as I thought, it was too much...”

“Not really,” Izumi blankly answered. “I came here for the spring of youth, remember? I'm not going to leave before it's found or proved non-existent. I never said you must tag along. Rather, I think running away was the right idea. I'd feel better knowing you're someplace safer too. I agree that how you went about it was a bit thoughtless, but accidents can happen to anyone.”

“Izumi...” Yuliana was moved by her friend’s magnanimity.

“Although, in retrospect, the idea of Yule secretly eloping with a hot stud does make me feel mysteriously angry and jealous. Then again, NTR can be exciting too, under the right circumstances! In fact, I'm almost enjoying my anger, ufufufu...”

“...Once again, I have no idea what you're talking about. And I told you, Brian and I do not have that kind of relationship.”

“Yes, yes, that's what all politicians say. Now open wide.”

“Sorry, I'm not particularly hungry, so you don't have t—amph! Hn!”

“My, that won't do. Don't you know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day?”

“Wah, it's already gone cold! Disgustin—ack!”

“Didn't your mom ever tell you not to be a picky eater. Here. Open wiiide!”

“You—you're totally upset with me, aren't you!? Have mercy! I'm sorry! Om—!”

Rather than an act of kindness, the breakfast was probably more accurately labeled as a form of torture.

“It sure got quiet around here,” Izumi noted, pausing to listen around.

“Yes...”

At daybreak, by the Vizier's decree, two lightly equipped scout groups of twenty-five knights each had been dispatched in search of the miraculous spring. That meant the company's fighting strength was effectively reduced to a third.

Of the remaining twenty-eight, two were stationed at the front gate. Two at the side exit. Two at the command's cottage. And three on the watchtowers raised a few feet above the palisade, one per each. One more pair patrolled the grounds outside. The rest were in the kitchen squad, worked with the woodcutters on reinforcing the wall, or just rested while waiting for their shift.

There was no question that any enemy trying to approach the outpost would be easily detected before it could cause any damage. The main issue was, were the defenders’ numbers enough to actually repel this enemy as well?

People needed to come and go all the time, so the front entrance remained open and unbarred. Yuliana couldn't avoid feeling unnervingly vulnerable in her position. Like a sacrificial maiden left for a dragon.

“What will you do if they find the spring?” she tried to distract herself and asked Izumi.

“Me? Get a cup, of course.”

“Think they will let you? It's eternal youth we're talking about. Men have gone mad over less than that. And the Emperor is not known for sharing things.”

“Well, I'm not about to ask their permission.”

“So you'll fight?” Yuliana asked. “Everybody here? The whole company?”

“If it comes to that, I guess?”

“...You really have not a worry in the world, do you?”

“You get wrinkles if you worry too much,” Izumi said. “I can't afford to worry any more, until I get a shot.”

“Is it that important to you, being young? Something to die for?”

“Isn't it to anyone? In my world, people are pretty obsessed with the age thing. No one wants to end up looking like a raisin, lonely, weak and helpless, suffering from all kinds of bothersome ailments, before slowly losing their minds. Who'd want to go through that?”

“I always thought it was a thing to aspire for,” Yuliana said. “Growing old, surrounded by family, your children, your children's children and their children. Seeing your legacy carry on after you, the way your parents passed the torch to you when it was your time. Isn't that a form of immortality of its own?”

“That really is one medieval way of looking at things,” Izumi said. “What is my legacy? I have no children and don’t plan on getting any either. The only things my parents left me were shame and loathing. Yes, all that’s here is me. When I am no more, there’ll be nothing left. Looking back at my life, thinking, ‘that’s it, that was all I did’—I don't want that. There's still hope for me. There has to be more for me! I still have a future! My dream came true! Now that I've made it into another world, I'm sure I can achieve some great things that are worth being remembered. I only need a bit more time! Just a bit more time, that's all.”

“Why do you need to achieve something?” Yuliana asked. “Aren't you fine just the way you are? A person like you existed—isn’t that a plenty precious thing on its own? Anything you do won’t lessen the value of that.”

“It's because you're still young that you can say that.”

“I don't think that's...”

“Yes, it is. I was a naturalist too, once. When I was your age. I didn't spare any thought to what a pain growing old would be, until I one day realized I wasn't a kid anymore. It happened too suddenly. One morning, I just realized I couldn't get fired up anymore. The heat in me mellowed down to something lukewarm instead. That magical 'I feel like I could do anything if only I tried'-feeling that young people have—I didn't have it in me anymore. It became 'it's such a bother to try again, I'll just do what I have to'. When I was your age, I ran five miles every morning. Now I get out of breath on the stairs before the fifth floor. I gotta wake up for the toilet at three every morning. And it only keeps getting worse. This isn't funny. Inside me is still a girl who wants to be a hero! But outside is something else. I can’t be content with being ‘just me’!”

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“You're not that old...At thirty-eight...I think.”

“You don't get how fast the time goes. The older you get, the faster the years seem to fly by. Soon I’ll be forty. Then fifty. Then sixty. Seventy. No, I’m not even going to live that long!”

“You don't even look old.”

“I do. You can tell the age by the hands. See? You can put on make-up and cream to make your face look all smooth and nice. But it will always show on the hands. Look how bony, veiny, and wrinkly they are! My fingers are dry, cold, and numb because the circulation is so poor. All bones. They're like the hands of a skeleton, a zombie! Who would want to be touched or held by hands like these? I can't stand it.”

“Izumi...”

“You're beautiful, Yule,” the woman said with a distant smile. “I adore you. And I envy you. Picturing myself standing next to you makes me feel like hurling. It's unpleasant, isn't it? Saying we're friends is just silly. We have nothing in common, as we are. It's a bad joke that we ever met.”

“Don't say that…! What's gotten into you!”

Izumi stood up and looked down at the princess, her expression as clouded as the heavens above.

“I'm going to become young again. No matter what. I still want to go on many more adventures with you. So I will fix it here. In this world, miracles can happen. If not...then my story will end here.”

“...What do you mean?”

Without answering, Izumi turned and walked away.

“It bothered you so much…?” Yuliana bitterly said and hid her face behind her knees. “I really thought you were fine just the way you are…!”

2

Izumi went to wash her face at the well. She had said more than intended, but there was no taking back what was done. Splashing her face with the icy water, she drew a deep breath, slapped her cheeks, and tried to psyche herself up again.

I’m being weirdly emotional. Is it the forest, or...

—“Now I've got it!” a cheerful voice suddenly spoke up behind her.

Izumi turned around and saw Riswelze standing there, in a triumphant pose.

“Rise? What's up?”

“Runes,” the girl said.

“Ehh…? Runes?”

“Yes. Since you can't do conventional magic, I'm going to teach you runes!” Riswelze explained while walking closer. “Remember what we talked about spells? Language and potential. Well, the thing is, runes conveniently happen to be both the language and the potential, in the same package. So you should be able to use them the same as anybody else, even without any personal ability.”

“Wow, really?” Izumi immediately forgot about her worries.

“Yes. It's really simple. Come here.”

Rise had a stick she'd picked up from somewhere in her hand and she now crouched, drawing on the muddy ground with it, while Izumi watched.

“Runes are the ancient language in written form. It's a writing system given to people by the Gods themselves, tens of thousands of years ago. Nowadays, much of the old alphabet has been lost. Even though the language itself is still known, elves, people, cruleans, all have devised their own writing systems, so not many original runes of power are known. And those who do know them tend to keep them to themselves. But I'll teach you what I know. To cast them, all you need to do is draw the rune—it doesn't even have to be readable—speak its name, and...magic happens.”

“Ooh! How handy!” Izumi commented.

“The only tricky part is, as with spells and incantations, that you still have to learn the name and the meaning of the rune first. Once you memorize those, you're good to go.”

“Well, it shouldn't be a problem. I always got good grades at kanji quizzes!”

“What hisses?”

“Never mind.”

“Anyway. Look here. This is Brandt. The rune of ignition.” Riswelze pointed at the letter she'd drawn in the dirt. “In the old tongue, the word means 'a sparkle of light'. It sets on fire whatever it's written on. See, I crossed over that line there. If I hadn't, the mud would've started burning there when I spoke the word. You always have to be careful with these.”

“Yes, mom,” Izumi nodded. “Brandt...Where have I heard that before? Ah, yes, now that I think about it, Ai-chan's God had a similar name, didn't he…? Is that just a coincidence?”

“Ah, a good point. It's not a coincidence. In the past, Brann was the God of Light. His name itself is synonymous with 'light'. Additionally, there's a common convention of naming the royal children in the old tongue. The ruling family of Langoria, for example, is named 'Brannan', which basically means, 'Brann's own'. You can also read that as, 'children of light'. They consider themselves the light god's chosen people, see?”

“But the Imperials said Brann didn't make people...”

“Yes, well, according to the lore, Brann created the goti, not humans, that’s true. But whatever. Every ruler out there insists that this or that deity is on their side, nothing new about that. It’s just a way of saying that you’re more righteous than everybody else, nobody cares about the old books. Let's get on with the lesson.”

“Then, this rune...is it the same that's on those arrows?”

The Imperial daemon-slaying arrows were capable of setting anything they touched in flames...Neither of the women had forgotten the gross demonstration from two days back. But Riswelze shook her head.

“No. I took a closer look at them and the rune written on the arrowheads is different. I believe they called it, ‘the rune of immolation’. I don't know that one or how to read it. I also don't know how they work without the name being spoken, but I guess some nifty magic is at play there. I can only teach you what I know, so let's stick to the basics.”

“Okay.”

“Brandt is pretty handy, you can use it to set up a campfire or create a distraction if you're in a bind. I have a piece of paper here, so try to write the rune down.”

“Let's see...”

Izumi copied the rune on the ground onto the paper Riswelze gave her with a piece of coal, sans the additional line. It turned out a bit crooked but still recognizable and the assassin approved it. Holding the paper up, Izumi drew breath and said,

“Do I really have to speak the magic word?”

“...Yes, you do.”

“It’s embarrassing...”

“Get over it!”

“Ahem. Brandt.”

“….”

“Brandt. Brandbrandbrandbrandt.”

“….”

Nothing happened. The paper in her hands remained perfectly intact and cold.

Waving it around, trying to smell smoke, Izumi contorted her brows, trying to imagine what she did wrong. To no avail.

“Why am I not surprised...Again.”

“Let me see that!”

Riswelze tore the paper in two, wrote the rune on her half and repeated Izumi's gesture.

“Brandt.”

The paper immediately caught fire and burned to cinders in a matter of seconds.

“Like that.”

“That's what I did!”

“You did something wrong. Try again!”

“Ummm...”

Izumi wrote the rune anew and tried again. And again. And again.

Soon the paper was full of scribbles but remained untouched by fire.

“Did you really understand the meaning? Sparkle of light. Like, 'light springing into existence out of nothing'. Not just any kind of light, a tiny flame that is hot and burns, a primal fire. That's the meaning. Those were the words my master used.”

“Amen. I get it, but it's still not working. Your rune's busted.”

“No, you're misunderstanding something. Try again.”

——“You waste your time, young lady.”

The magic lesson became unexpectedly interrupted by a voice from behind the two. The women stood and turned to see the old Imperial Court Wizard, Yornwhal, looking at them a few paces away, while leaning on his staff. The man had a complex look on his face, that appeared to say their magic class was silly. Or else the student was. When had he appeared there, not even Riswelze could tell.

“What do you mean...?” Izumi asked. “I don’t have the potential then?”

Not immediately answering, the man stepped closer and spoke,

“A long, long time ago, men saw the peerless sorceries of the emiri and the goti, and became jealous and embittered. 'We are nothing', they said. 'We are weak, we are sick, mortal, grow old and die, and we know not magic either; what meaning is there to this torturous existence?' Their God, Hamaran, heard this and took pity on them. He called his followers together and gave them the power of magic to lighten up their dark days. Magic became a source of joy and pride to humans. But it also made us greedy and prideful, led us astray time after time again, and drove a wedge between us and the other races. In time, Hamaran grew to regret giving us such a power, but he didn't take the gift away either. Young or old, weak or strong, the potential lies dormant in each and every one, to be discovered or let lie. Except you.” He fixed the gaze of his blue eyes at Izumi. “You were never given that gift, being a human of another world.”

“Eh?” Izumi was surprised. “How did you know?”

“Goodness, I am not that blind or stupid!” the wizard exclaimed. “Your looks are too strange. And watching this charade convinced me. Indeed, there is a man like you in the capital as well. He could never learn magic either. I suspect none of your kind has that ability. Because no matter how you look similar to us, you are not a human created by the same Gods.”

“Really?” The revelation made Izumi's pulse quicken. “There's another summoned person? Is he from the same world? What’s he like?”

“Why don't you come to Bhastifal and see for yourself?” Yornwhal replied. “He remains at the palace, as his majesty's guest. I’ve no doubt you’ll see him, eventually. Provided, of course, that any of us make it out of Felorn alive.”

“You doubt our chances then, old man?” Riswelze asked. “Nothing bad happened last night, did it?”

“That's what worries me,” the wizard lowered his tone. “It is too quiet. Have you ever been to a forest this silent before? There is something strange in the air. Something sinister. The men at the sick tent...they aren't getting any better. Their wounds are treated, they should be young men at the top of their form. Yet they remain at death's door. Tormented by nightmares, they twist and toss restlessly and awake with a high fever. After a little march in the woods? His majesty's elite? How many dangerous missions do you think they have survived before this day? My herbs or spells have no effect. It's not their flesh that drags them down.”

He fell silent and walked on, leaving the two to digest his words for a moment, before stopping to continue,

“There is a strange pressure in the air. It probes our minds, keeps us on the edge. No spirit I know does this. Sending most of the troops away could have been a sound decision. Whatever causes the mysterious ailment, it affects the idle the worst. The less there are here to endure it, the better.”

“Why tell us?” Riswelze asked. “Shouldn't you inform the big chiefs?”

“I have,” the wizard bitterly replied. “But I'm afraid our dear leaders are too absorbed in their respective obsessions to pay heed to the 'ramblings of an old man'. I fear for them, but what can I do? By my oath, I am also bound to his majesty's will. I will do what is asked of me, that is all I can. But you...when the time comes, stand by your princess. Do not leave her alone.”

Having shared his advice to the two, Yornwhal climbed up the cottage stairs and disappeared inside. Left staring at the wooden door where the yellow paint flaked, Izumi muttered,

“As I thought, growing old sucks.”