Without even opening her eyes, Alicia let out a groan. The morning’s light reached her, and she turned away instead of getting up. How kind of the mysterious, disembodied voice to confirm its existence—too bad it was speaking nonsense.

This has become all too tangled. One more week, she thought; she only has to bear with it for one more week. This Sunday, they would leave Merry’s domain, and either they escape or get caught out and die. They planned to circle the perimeter for a little while, to make sure they weren’t tracked, but Alicia didn’t want to imagine the worst.

For months now, she had been worrying every day. Even in moments that should’ve been relaxing, something was weighing down on her constantly. And now? Another thing. Any second now, she would pop a vein. She wasn’t sure how Cyg was holding up, but she’s been at this longer than he has.

“Alicia?” Merry’s voice pulled her back to wakefulness. She must’ve fallen back asleep.

With all her might, the apprentice threw off the covers and got out. “Sorry, I’m up now.”

Frowning, Merry said, “If you’re feeling a little under the weather, you can sleep in. I’ll speak to Cyg—”

“No, no, I’m coming down. I’m fine, really.”

A moment’s hesitation. Then, she relented. “If you say so. Breakfast is ready.”

Alicia watched the door close before looking over to her desk. So much to do, so little time. She hurried through her usual morning tasks, and by the time she made it to the dining table, the other two were lightly chatting while they waited for her.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, pulling out her chair. “You should’ve started without me.”

Cyg, his worry openly shown on his face, asked, “Are you really alright?”

“Definitely. You don’t have to worry about me.”

There’s much to talk about, but it would have to come later. For now, they’ll just have to eat. Alicia smoothed out her hair one last time and picked up her fork when Cyg decided to try something. He received Merry’s guidance unprompted last week, so he figured there was no problem if he were to ask for it this time around.

“Merry,” he began, “Actually, I just learned I could use soul magic a short while ago.”

“...You have?”

“Yeah, and I was thinking—since you’re good with domains, you’d be good with soul stuff too, right? I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

“How long have you been practicing? Have you told anyone?”

Cyg was acutely aware of how nervous he appeared. The more he considered concocting another half-truth, the more self-conscious he became, worsening it. Luckily, he practiced stilling his soul, and unable to help himself, he used that trick while speaking. “Just a short while. It’s been mostly self-taught.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Mostly?”

“Err... yeah, I managed to get some advice in passing before this.” He cussed silently. It’s been a long while since he messed up a lie this badly.

Merry seemed to consider it for a few seconds. “Sure,” she said, letting a beat pass before a blur of flesh shot out from underneath the table, slamming into Cyg’s neck and throwing him and his chair onto the ground, the new limb extending from her leg.

Alicia jumped in her chair, her blood running cold. She was too stunned to speak or even move. The witch had snapped his neck, and she suspiciously glanced around about before dismissing whatever she saw as irrelevant, having caught only a muddled glimpse of his soul being pulled away and dissipating.

Retracting the appendage, Merry said, “Sorry for ruining breakfast, Alicia, but you can never give a soul mage any leeway, especially one who starts lying to you the first moment they get. I had to get rid of him before he tried anything rash.”

Alicia thought her chest was about to explode. “I... I see...”

Walking around the table, the witch carried off the corpse. “I’ll take care of him. Really wish this didn’t have to happen, but it is what it is.”

She watched the witch fly off into the forest, slowly losing all of the tension she unknowingly stored. Alone in the room with the only other movement being a lantern’s flame and grass rustling outside, Alicia wondered if she should reset the loop. That was the first thing that came to mind, but the subsequent one went in an entirely different direction.

They weren’t in any danger. Merry didn’t know they were working together, and Alicia no longer had any plans to escape this loop. So, why not stay longer? She’d even have an entire month to work on the escape vehicle she barely started on.

Leaning back on her chair, Alicia picked at her food. Perhaps fate has given her a short break after all.

* * *

Sitting by the river, she looked over the puzzle box in her hands, wondering what the thief saw in this thing. It was only frustrating, and when one of the sides reset she very badly wanted to crack it open with magic—certainly a waste of time and not the fun sort. She placed it down before redirecting her focus toward the creek.

Her seat was always just close enough to see any fish that swam near the bank, but she didn’t need it this time. Casting out a large net of mana, she waited for something to brush up against it. The water itself was faintly imbued with life, but anything larger than a pebble could never be mistaken as anything ambient.

She caught something shortly after, a small thing that was plucked right out and into the air with her magic. Then, Alicia stole away another. And another. Maybe one more. Holding her breath now, she wove them around like puppets in a dance. Four was her new limit, and she still had enough mental leeway to enjoy it as a spectator. There was still a pang of disappointment, however, as it was nowhere near as dazzling as she’d wanted it to be. She’d seen pictures of schools of fish before—and what a curious plural noun that was—though this could hardly compare. Cyg had his juggling tricks, this was Alicia’s. Except, it never gave her any magical revelations, so she hadn’t bothered with it recently.

The apprentice snapped out of her reverie after realizing she spent a little too long holding them up, and she dropped all four back into the creek. Alicia then stood up, patted off her dress, and walked past the mangled trees she felled earlier so she could cut down another. With her healing Aspect, she grabbed and emptied all of the mana at the trunk, readying her earth Aspect to saw through. Making a mess of internal structures was easy with “healing”, but outright separation proved to be much more difficult. It explained the way Merry fought too.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Ironic that this was her main takeaway from trying to heal the guard.

* * *

About a week in, she snapped.

“Merry, help!” Alicia cried as she practically stormed inside the house. “What in the Gods is a wagon!?”

In the kitchen, the witch was looking over some flat stones with runes inscribed on them, all laid out next to one severed faerie limb. Hearing her apprentice’s question, she turned and looked at the elf as if she had hit her head. “...A vehicle used to transport people and goods, usually drawn by a horse or a magical mechanism.”

“No, I mean how is one built?! Why are they so complicated? I thought it’d be four wheels and two sticks and a box on top, but then I saw that I needed to make it turn, and the problems just kept on coming...!”

“Oh.” Merry stared blankly. “I’ll be frank—I never bothered with any of that when I could just fly around everywhere. Have you checked if any of the books we have—”

“Yes! I checked the study, your room, and mine,” she replied, “...Now that I think about it, it would be a little strange to keep a textbook on wagon design when we never need one.”

Placing a hand on her hip, the witch said, “I can go check the town if anyone has anything on that topic, but what’s this all of a sudden?”

“Well, I...” Alicia paused, trying to remember the excuse she came up with, “I can’t carry heavy things around with my magic, and I certainly can’t walk long distances, so I thought a small vehicle would solve my problems.”

“Hm. Excellent point. I’ll go checking around this weekend when I resupply. We’re running low on spices and herbs, so that would be the perfect time for a trip.”

* * *

There was one text, and it was a history book detailing how modern vehicles came into being. It was also completely worthless, choosing to focus on the anthropology side of it and how one could link societal needs with technological decisions. Mildly fascinating, Alicia admitted, but disappointing on how it skimmed over the mechanical details she needed.

Nevertheless, two weeks of constant prototyping was enough to create some kind of rudimentary abomination. She had figured to split the axle with spokes before cramming it down in size so it wasn’t quite as absurd. However, the first “working” ride revealed two things: she could feel every blasted bump on the ground, and all the intricate mechanisms inside were subjected to the same experience, promptly cracking and shattering into splinters after a few rigorous jolts.

Oh, she needed metal. An annoying amount of it, more than the nail bombs previously required. It was due to her shoddy craftsmanship, but what could an amateur do with limited time? Not to mention the sheer amount of mana needed to drive the thing, because this thing needed to be bigger; there needed to be room for the fuel.

Such were the conclusions she made as she sat in an open wooden box on wheels, half-broken in the middle of the forest. Alone. With only the accompaniment of a bird watching down from a tree.

“Cyg, what do you think?” she cried out, fully knowing he wasn’t there to listen. “I’ve become a jack of all trades! Maybe I’ll go build some houses after this.”

Loneliness? Her? After spending all this time with her own thoughts, unable to voice her concerns about Merry? Maybe this relatively short time with an ally has made her weak. She had a taste of friendly company and now she couldn’t go a damn month without wanting it again. Annoyed, she kicked the front of her wagon, cracking the already half-broken joint and sending the side swiveling outward.

She sat there for a few minutes before using her magic to stick it back together. It sucked, and so was the journey back. Half of it was done by the rest of her mana, and the other half relied on her meagre strength. Slowly, of course.

By the time she arrived back for dinner, Alicia was exhausted in every way.

“Why have you been pushing yourself so hard?” Merry asked when she saw her. The witch helped her apprentice in, saying, “You could’ve left it outside and I would’ve brought it back later.”

“I don’t know...” she answered, sitting down. “Feeling frustrated lately, mainly.”

Pushing aside the dishes on the table, the witch gave her a glass of water. “I’ll go make some soup. It’d be easier on you.”

“...Thanks.”

They didn’t say a word to each other as Merry went to work. The chopping of vegetables on a cutting board, the clinking of pots and pans being moved around, the crackling of fire on the stove and lanterns, they served well enough as music in the wait, and by the time it was done, Alicia’s appetite has come out on top, overcoming the chill from the Sea.

It was a little too hot, but the delicious smell started to gnaw at her stomach, and she blew at it before having a spoonful. The taste reminded her of just how many times she had the same meals in the past loops. Now a little wistful, she silently ate her light meal.

“Is there something else on your mind?” Merry asked, sitting down and not yet eating the meal she cooked earlier. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone getting this worked up over a wagon.”

“...” She didn’t quite know how to respond.

“...I know there’re some things we would all prefer to keep to ourselves, but if you ever want to talk, just know that I’m here.” Along with her words, she offered a warm smile. “Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out... well, I’ve always been one to believe that time was the magical ingredient that most people overlook. Effort alone can’t solve all things. Give the problem a little room to breathe. Maybe you’ll find something new.”

If only, Alicia grumbled in her mind. “...Maybe.”

“And, if that doesn’t work out, I’ll always be here to listen to your troubles.”

“This lecture feels weirdly out of place,” she said, letting out a chuckle. “Maybe better for moody, angsty children.”

“Well to me,” the witch said, interrupting her sentence with a mouthful of food. “That’s just everyone under the age of sixty.”

Alicia considered her next words. “If I’m being truthful, spending all day every day in this forest is driving me mad.”

And Merry was just as careful. “I heard there’s a travelling faire coming to Murkwell next month. What do you say we spend the weekend out when it happens? Get you out of the fresh wilderness air and into some rank village fog,” she said with a grin.

There was a second’s hesitation. If only.

“That would be wonderful,” Alicia replied, returning the smile with a weak one of her own.

* * *

Twenty-five days in, Alicia was sitting by the sickly guard in the basement. He was out cold, for his own sake, but she was down here to quell the plague. It rained the other day, so it was quite damp in there now. Not even a new potpourri could mask the dreadful smell that had built up.

“One month” could be a wild range of days, but for what was written in the circle, it was a precise thirty. Five days left to go, but she believed she had done all that she could. No, rather, she did all she wanted to do. Time to think was the most important thing, perhaps.

Alicia brought a hand to the man’s stub of a shoulder, and then she focused. First were the bones—she had to complete the parts that were cleaved with the rest of the limb, then came slotting each piece one after the other. Recreating any random arm was impossible, but he still has his other arm to use as a reference. If he was missing both entirely, the technique that all healing mages learn is to use their own body as a reference. Things like length and shape can be adjusted later, but who can perfectly recall the shape of every joint socket? Merry, who was able to reassemble herself purely from familiarity with her body, was proof that exceptions required unmanageable experience.

Then came the muscles, tendons, and ligaments. This was the most troubling part, for she was an elf and their mana-rich bodies made the comparison like apples and oranges. Or maybe oranges and tangerines. Every chance she could get around the guard, she was making comparisons and taking mental notes. Remember key points. Extrapolate the rest. The guard’s body wove outward, regenerating as Alicia worked. The hand? Twenty-seven damn bones and a web of meat tying it together.

The skin wrapped it all up to conclude the groundwork. Now came the moment of truth. Unwilling to wake the guard to test it himself, she manually manipulated each part of the arm, in parts and then in larger swaths, all the while she compared it with her own movements.

Then finally, she let out a heavy breath of relief. “I have no idea how it’ll actually hold up, but an arm’s an arm,” she said to the unconscious man.

Folding her hands, Alicia wondered how Merry would receive her suicide this loop. While she was here, she could lay the guard to rest, but that would lead to the witch searching for another victim. How morbid, she thought—her first decision on how to conscientiously exit a loop was far from pretty. She even wondered whether it would be better to die seemingly out of the blue or to act as if she was plotting a betrayal. What would settle best in Merry’s mind?

Leaning back on her chair, she closed her eyes. Simple was best, after all, and she stilled her heart as she’d done countless times before. To the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars, she prayed.

— ! —

May this be the last reset.