It all started when Swen acted on his hunch—that the assassin responsible for Lord Shammings’ death would strike during the Queen’s absence.
Making his way to the kitchen, he found it as busy as always. However, as he inquired one of the cooks—a middle-aged woman he knew well, called Dolla—she told him something that he had expected to hear, yet surprised him as well.
“Yes, Chamberlain sir, someone was here indeed.”
Swen was understandably startled, both at hitting bull’s-eye, as well as the person’s identity. He never would have imagined it to be someone like him—but then again, this still proved nothing.
“And what did he do here?” Swen continued his line of questions therefore.
“Well, he asked for a refreshment. Man seemed awfully nervous, so I did think he needed it… and went to fetch it for him. When I returned, he was gone, which I thought odd.”
Odd indeed. “Isn’t it also odd for him to be here, when there is such an important speech downtown?”
“Now that you mention it.”
Swen hurriedly summoned a guard and told him to find the suspect, but his own investigation was not yet done, so he came back to the kitchen. If this man really was the assassin, and assuming he did something to further his goals—it had to be something minor and simple enough to be done during Dolla’s short absence.
“Any new herbs, Dolla?” he asked her.
“Hmm… we did receive a new shipment yesterday,” she said after thinking for a bit. “Should I send someone to check?”
Swen nodded. The inventories were stored in a room adjacent to but separate from the kitchen itself, so it was possible for the suspect to sneak inside and put something untoward. However, as he thought about this, he also noticed something hidden behind the counter. As Dolla returned with a few other staff, he questioned her about it.
“What are these boxes, then?”
“These? Oh, they’re fresh shipments from the sea… you know, fish and all of Her Majesty’s favorite food. We should actually refrigerate them… Gilly, take those boxes down to the cellar, will you?”
“Wait a moment. Are these shipments from today? All of them?” Swen asked, examining them from up close. “There isn’t, for example, an extra box?”
“No, I don’t think so…”
“And yet, one of them seems to have been opened,” he noted.
They both checked one of these shipments, and saw that indeed the lid was not as tight as the other boxes. “You’re right,” said Dolla.
Swen opened the box carefully, expecting to find something incriminating inside—but only saw a bunch of fish. Well, that was obvious. It didn’t mean those fish weren’t poisoned, though.
There was a need for some more information. “Keep searching for anything suspicious and don’t touch those boxes. Is that clear?” he ordered Dolla, who nodded fearfully. The other kitchen staff started whispering among themselves, but he had no time to deal with them. Instead Swen rushed away, looking for the guards.
“Yes, sir, he was very vocal about it, but we apprehended him,” informed him one of the guards and led Swen to an unused room, where the man was waiting for him.
“W-w-what is the meaning of this, Lord Chamberlain?!”
“A short while ago you have been in the kitchen. Is that correct?” Swen wasted no time in cutting straight to the chase.
“…I have.”
“And you have placed poison into the inventory.”
“I-I have not! You h-have no proof of such an outrageous a-a-accusation!”
Not right now, at least, Swen thought to himself. “The facts seem to be rather evident.” He took a few steps forward, glowering over the suspect. “After you left—quite suspiciously, by the way, as you have asked for a refreshment and then vanished—one of the boxes had been left open. Do you deny your involvement? Can you offer any other explanation?”
“I… I obviously deny it! As i-if I know what happened there! I n-n-never touched any fish!”
Swen’s eyes widened in shock, then his face softened into a smile. He already had the hunch he was dealing with an amateur, but he never thought it would be to this extent.
“I don’t believe I mentioned anything about fish,” Swen said, causing the other party to blanche. “Which means you really were the one to put them there, Lord Sacrum!”
“After that, he pretty much broke down and confessed,” explained Swen, shaking his head. “However, that wasn’t all. Although he admitted to this crime, he also claimed that it wasn’t made by his own initiative—but an idea given to him by none other than Lord Qumisson!”
After taking Levia and Qumisson to a secured room, he unfolded this tale, shocking both of them. He ended this story by pointing at the aforementioned Lord.
“How dare you,” Qumisson spat, “accuse me so brazenly without providing any piece of proof! I have done no such thing, either with Lord Sacrum or otherwise!”
Levia slightly narrowed her eyes, then looked back to Swen. “Swen, would you mind stepping outside for a moment?”
“…Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, although he cast a suspicious glance at Qumisson, freezing for an extra moment. Finally, the door closed.
“You cannot detain me here, Your Majesty,” said Qumisson, radiating all of his usual emotions.
Levia found most interactions with him to be absolutely boring. He was too steadfast in his opinions when compared to other people. Except when caught by surprise, he would always feel and act the same about everything.
She also wondered if she would ever feel him happy. However, it was likely that something like that could happen only after she died.
“Of course. This is a mere private talk between the two of us,” Levia said with her usual smile. For all of her criticizing Qumisson, she herself was also just as monotone, although she had her reasons. Well, the same went for him. “I do believe you are telling the truth and that you are not the one behind Lord Sacrum’s actions.”
Relief, but also—agreement. Yes, there was no doubt that this turn of events was just as unexpected for him as it was for her. Starting from his surprise at the moment that Swen revealed the culprit’s name and the shock at hearing his name involved in it as well. He was perhaps guilty of other things, but not of this.
“However, there still remains doubt that you might have assisted him, directly or otherwise. And… there is also the other assassin to consider.”
“That could have been the fool, as well, Your Majesty,” Qumisson insisted, although he was obviously lying.
“I seriously doubt it. If he really had a professional assassin working for him, he wouldn’t have tried acting directly. Even in desperation… he wouldn’t yet know about the latest failed attempt, after all. No, that couldn’t have been him.”
“There are plenty of other fools who wish to get rid of you, Your Majesty.”
“None as well-connected as you are.”
“And does that assassin of yours require any such connections?” he probed.
The truth of the matter was that they hadn’t been able to apprehend them, so most details were still unknown. According to Molton, the black-clad person was most likely a woman, but that was not nearly enough information. Well, her unique usage of channeling could perhaps lead them somewhere, given enough time to investigate, and they might find her body if they searched for it.
“Both of us know you are guilty, Lord Qumisson,” noted Levia, a statement reinforced by his inner response to this. “Unfortunately, words alone mean nothing, and I will be unable to prove this guilt of yours.”
Yes. Even if Levia hadn’t been hiding her ability from most people—though most nobles at least suspected it—she couldn’t use it as any sort of evidence either way. And, of course, no matter how much she tried playing with Qumisson’s emotions, he would never yield. He wouldn’t fall into the same sort of trap that tripped silly Lord Sacrum. This sort of deadlock repeated itself again and again and again ever since she ascended to the throne.
“This is nonsense and a complete waste of my time, Your Majesty. Rather than that, we should discuss what we’re about to do about that revelation of yours—”
“All in due time, Lord Qumisson. We must settle this, first.”
At this there was a loud creak as Qumisson pushed back his chair and rose. She wasn’t excepting much, but she was getting him this angry on purpose.
“I am a very busy man, Your Majesty,” he spoke, his voice still somehow calm in spite of the raging storm of his mind. “And I will not have—”
So focused on the man’s emotions as she was, Levia neglected to sense another angered person approaching the room until the door burst open, revealing a young man.
“Let Father go immediately!” demanded Callun.
Oh? What was Qumisson’s son doing there? Immediately after him also came the nervous form of Swen.
“I-I—Your Majesty, I tried stopping him—”
“What are you doing here?” asked Qumisson coldly, regarding his son with hostile eyes.
Callun smiled. “I heard you were being apprehended for suspicion of conspiring against the Queen. Which is completely ludicrous, of course.”
“Leave,” Qumisson ordered. “I do not need you here, stupid boy.”
“No, I will not. After all, how can I let Her Majesty blame you like this—when I am the culprit?”
All except for Levia froze in shock at his sudden words. She could of course tell that he was lying, but why was he doing that?
“Are you a complete idiot?” Qumisson spat.
“Arrest me, Your Majesty. I was the one who planned your death. I no longer have any need to hide that.”
“What are you playing at, young Lord Callun?” Levia asked calmly. He genuinely seemed angry at his father being treated like that, but she could also feel a sense of smugness and a hint of playfulness, as well as… pride? She hadn’t often met with the boy, so it was quite the novel experience for her.
“Will you not arrest me, then?” he said, staring directly in her eyes.
He, too, wished to see her fall, just like his father. Yet she also had the feeling that he wanted to see his father fail just as much. A contradictory and impulsive youngster… she couldn’t tell what he was trying to do at all.
Levia lazily waved a hand. “Even a child could tell you’re just foolishly covering for him.”
“Leave right this instant,” Qumisson said, anger finally seeping into his voice. “You are sullying our family name with your idiocy.”
“Fine,” said Callun, shrugging. “Then I will go. However, I need to talk with you, Father.”
Qumisson seemed just as confused, so this was not any part of his plan. Was the boy doing all this just to get his father out? It was completely unneeded, for one, and did he actually think something like this would work?
Levia acted a deep, thoughtful sigh. “I see that you have quite the strange familial relationship, Lord Qumisson. But that is fine. I will leave you father and son on your own—just contact me when you wish to renew our discussion.”
Qumisson glared at her, but the glare he sent at his son seemed even sharper. “We’re leaving,” he said, obviously biting down the anger and humiliation people on both sides had caused him. “You will explain to me whatever in the name of the Gods you were trying to do.”
“Sure, and then you can thank me for saving you.”
“There was nothing to save me from. I will have you thoroughly disciplined… perhaps Her Majesty will be inclined to send you down for a short respite in the dungeons because of that foul mouth of yours.”
Levia merely leaked a small chuckle at them, causing Qumisson to stare at her, and finally leave along with his son. She could hear them arguing from the corridor.
“Your Majesty, are you really just letting him…?” started Swen, closing his mouth as Levia gestured with her hand. She followed the pair with her ability until they left her range; there was a jumble of emotions there, but none that seemed like it would lead to anything.
“Unfortunately, I cannot hold him here,” Levia finally spoke. Her pensive expression then changed to a warm smile. “However, I must congratulate you, Lord Swen—you have caught the culprit splendidly. You have outdone Salom as a brilliant detective.”
“I… I did nothing worthy of praise, Your Majesty,” the man said, bowing. “I was merely here at the right place, at the right time. And you nearly went down like old Master Mayer where I wasn’t looking…” He scowled in anguish.
Even a decade later, Swen was still haunted by that event, probably much more than Levia would ever be. She found this sadness of his… admirable, although that was a completely wrong word for this.
“I had nothing but luck on my side,” he added glumly.
“At times, luck is all that is needed,” Levia said. “But let us leave this aside. Now, Lord Swen, if you wish to be helpful right here and now, there are still many things that need to be done following today’s events. I am counting on you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
For a few moments Niu could do nothing but simply gaze at the broken shell of a man holding the fairy’s body.
He kept mumbling something—an apology, a plea, or something else entirely—under his breath while crying profusely. The Goddess, so looming of a presence just before, was now completely still, even her hairs just lying on the floor motionlessly.
“Please…” Zade said, and Niu realized that he was talking to her. “Save her…”
Niu flinched a bit, and then glanced at the obviously dead fairy. I don’t think anything can be done for them anymore, she said into his mind, upon which he leaked a small sob. I’m sorry. I really wanted to help.
“I was so stupid,” he said, “so stupid… please kill me.”
Do you really wish for this? Niu asked. She wasn’t quite sure why she was responding this way; until just now, the man had been trying to kill her and everyone around. She even attacked him herself. Even if he seemed to be broken now, even if he regretted his actions, it didn’t matter at all.
Or did it? She had intended on trying to calm him down before. And now he seemed to be calm, or more precisely, not violent. Then again, he seemed to move in mood swings, so perhaps she’d better take this opportunity.
Too much hesitation… she hated this part of herself.
“I’ll kill him… if you can’t,” said a groggy voice nearby. With a start, Niu noticed the bloody figure of Roah slowly climbing up the half-ruined stairs. He was accompanied by one of the laborers that had large chunks missing from its body.
“Yes,” Zade said simply, not even looking toward the voice.
Niu couldn’t even feel happy at his survival for now. Roah held a knife in hand as he approached the man. He glanced at the Goddess, but she seemed at motionless as ever.
“You’ve done well, Niu. Make no mistake, none of this is your fault—so I will shoulder the responsibility for this,” Roah said.
What are you even talking about? Roah, don’t do this.
Roah turned to direct his one eye at her. She shuddered at how he looked with all the blood and his glinting eye. How was he even standing? “Don’t be silly, Niu. The man himself wants to be relieved of his suffering.”
Even she herself had attempted to harm this man not too long ago. And yet, and yet… it was a waste. We can still use him, she insisted. For information. And power. He’s probably harmless now.
Roah narrowed his eye. “It’s too dangerous. He can snap again at any given moment.”
“Yes, yes, just kill me…” Zade mumbled. Meanwhile, other soldiers and laborers seemed to have finally caught up to the scene from all sides, as if time had stopped before and only now resumed its flow. Niu was given a helping hand and stood up, wincing a bit at pain coming from her leg.
Look at Alsa, Niu said. It’s not like before. She seems to be affected by his mental state. If we kill him, who knows what’s going to happen?
Roah seemed to consider this for a bit, but then shook his head. “She wasn’t doing much until he arrived in the first place.” He turned back to the still-crying man. “I’ll just end this.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
There was probably no need for Roah to do it, personally and there didn’t seem to be any rush. Was he doing it for Niu’s sake, then? Without waiting for a reply, he swung down the knife toward Zade’s apparently defenseless neck.
“Wait.” A few strands of hair emerged silently to hold the knife in place a mere split second away from piercing Zade’s skin. He was the one who spoke.
“…Are you still going to resist?” Roah asked coldly, not letting go of the knife but not pushing on it either.
“Monan asked me… to live,” Zade spoke weakly, his lower lip quivering. “I can’t, die yet.”
And what do you intend to do? Niu asked.
His face still distorted in pain, Zade raised it to look straight at her. “I don’t know. My life’s lost all meaning years ago… and they gave me a fake one.” His gaze lowered again to the corpse. “And now I’ve lost even that.”
“We’ve defeated the Stroba,” Roah joined the conversation. “And intend on making Kalden even greater, and—if we figure out how—create a way to connect between the worlds. Do you wish to return there?”
Zade seemed surprised by his words. “I…” he muttered. “I no longer have anything there, either, but… do you think she would have wanted me to?”
I know nothing about this fairy, said Niu, but they saved my life. So I do not wish for their death to be meaningless.
Roah, who couldn’t hear Niu’s response, also said, “That doesn’t matter. Decide for yourself. It is true you can help us, but just as true you are too dangerous.”
“I… I will try… you can even use those horrible drinks to keep me calm… but I still… maybe I still…” the man mumbled.
Roah let go of the knife, and when he did, the hairs did as well, causing it to fall down and stab into the wooden floor. Zade started crying again, uncontrollably. That seemed to serve as an answer, for now at least. There was still a lot to think about, but judging from Roah’s expression as he glanced toward Niu, he accepted it.
Niu returned to watch the man crying over his loved one and found her gaze caught by a blood-splattered orange flower that fell nearby.
“Madam, madam, oh, this is horrible!”
Quietly sitting in the parlor until now, Lady Sacrum frowned at this voice. “What’s the matter, dear?” She regarded the overly excited maid that just entered the room.
The middle-aged woman fanned herself with a hand, looking about ready to cry. “His Lordship had been arrested!”
Ah, so he failed.
“We are wanted for questioning as well… oh, this is horrible!”
“What has that fool done?” she asked aloud, sighing.
“A-apparently he tried to poison the Queen… they say he also poisoned Lord Shammings… oh, this is just awful!” the maid repeated herself in anguish.
Of course, Lady Sacrum had rather suspected that was the case, considering the fact her husband was absent from the public speech. It was perhaps the boldest thing he’d ever done in his life, but it was also the end of him.
He really was a fool. If he hadn’t tried to test this method on Shammings first, there was a real chance he could have gotten the Queen. He should have gone off that horse once it became evident that another assassin was at work, but the stupid man probably thought that they were supporting him. Or rather, that Qumisson was supporting him.
This idea was one that Lady Sacrum herself had planted into his mind.
Her plan had been exceedingly simple. She faked a letter from Qumisson, telling her husband a method to kill the Queen without being implicated in it. These Sacrona-imported fish, that were somehow naturally poisonous, would be impossible to detect and stop in time. She handed him those fish and let him do as he saw fit.
In the best-case scenario, he would have succeeded and gotten rid of the Queen. If that happened, she would offer Qumisson a deal—expose her husband as the culprit, and in exchange become the Queen herself. She didn’t have much confidence in that plan, but she lost nothing from trying it.
Well, Shammings’ death had been unexpected, though. She had nothing against him and he wouldn’t have survived for many more years anyway, so it was a bit of a waste.
And, despite the fact that there seemingly was another assassin at work—she personally suspected Qumisson’s handiwork—which camouflaged her husband even better, he still squandered everything, the stupid man. So it really was a waste.
“Don’t worry, dear,” said Lady Sacrum, patting the poor old maid on her arm, “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. My husband wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Well, being questioned would be annoying, but there was nothing they could use to implicate her; she’d completely erased all traces leading to her. Even her stupid husband thought he was doing all of this in secret, scheming to present the Queen’s death as a gift to Qumisson. It was uncanny how husband and wife resembled each other when in all other accounts they were the opposite.
And if Levia was the one to question her… well, if the rumors about her powers were true, it would be a pain, but the woman couldn’t do anything. If she was a proper Queen she would either arrest Lady Sacrum without giving any excuses or else get rid of her discreetly, but Levia was too weak for it. The fact Qumisson was allowed to openly oppose her showed that plenty.
“Ooh, Madam… thank you,” said the maid, half-crying.
“Now, now, dear. Make us some tea—for you first, so you can relax. I’ll go speak with someone; I’ll probably get my husband out in no time.” The maid nodded and left in a hurry.
Would Levia execute him for this rather serious crime? There hadn’t been any executions during her reign, and perhaps she wouldn’t want to sour the positive atmosphere created by her speech.
Anyway, this was a failure. But no matter. Perhaps another chance will come. Even if not, Qumisson would never give up as long as he breathed.
Either way, Levia-O could only survive for so long.
The fight seemed to be finally, finally over. The Stroba resistance was squashed down—even if there would undoubtedly still be further troubles down the line—and the attacking human was apprehended. It was finally the time for healing.
Gen’s group arrived back at Kalden and after hearing everything was over, he was deposited on Karnana, the hospital tree. While he bore many wounds, luckily none of them were life-threatening. All he had to do was rest and recover.
It was morning when Shaya arrived there, determined. She too had undergone some treatment, but most of her problems were due to the poison that was still being cleansed out of her body slowly but surely.
“Good morning,” she greeted Gen with a somewhat stiff smile. “Brought you some cookies.” Due to the difference in ingredients, they were quite different when compared to those from Plainland, but still delicious.
“Oh? Thanks,” Gen said with raised brows, accepting the small bag she was holding. She sat down on the chair near his bed, clenching her hands. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thanks. How about you?”
“Not my best, obviously, but fine, all things considered.”
After that overly polite exchange, the pair sank into a bit of an awkward silence.
“So, how—”
“Gen, I have—”
They both spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time as they realized this.
“…Go ahead,” said Gen, smiling.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” said Shaya. Including thinking of how to actually phrase what she wanted to say. She knew she was going to fumble up her words anyway, but she still made the attempt. “About our situation here. About what we’re trying to do here. And about what I want to do here.”
“Like going back home?” Gen asked.
“Yes. But that seems to be far away still.”
Gen slightly scowled. “Sometimes it feels like they don’t even care about that.” He hurriedly added, “well, Roah, anyway.”
“They both changed so much, huh.” This wasn’t the first time she thought or said this. Roah was always quite problematic, but even so the four of them used to be friends of a kind. At the very least, Niu was an actual part of that friendship. But their arrival here seemed to cause a rift. One that they may never close again.
“I do believe Niu’s trying to do the right thing,” Gen clarified. “I’m just unsure if she knows how to. Well, better her than Acrus… or, again, Roah. But you don’t want to talk about that stuff at all, right? I’m sorry.” Shaya was surprised at his sudden focused gaze. Was her expression really that obvious? It almost made her blush.
She swallowed. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about what I want to do here. We’ve been through a lot lately, and we nearly lost each other,” she said, holding back tears, “but I was so glad at being there with you. We both have a lot to learn together, and I just wanted to, I always thought that, umm, what I’m trying to say is that I—”
She froze. She felt herself sweating and reddening and her throat was suddenly dry. Gen wore a slightly puzzled expression with just a hint of something else that she couldn’t decipher. She couldn’t just keep rambling like that. So Shaya just closed her eyes, pretended he wasn’t there and spoke her truest feelings.
“I love you, Gen.”
Oh Gods.
Oh Gods oh Gods.
She actually said it. She actually said it. She actually said it. Time seemed to stop as she kept her eyes closed.
It wasn’t her imagination, she actually said it. She wanted to run away so badly. Did time actually stop or was it only a second? Why wasn’t he saying anything? What kind of a face was he making? She was too scared to open her eyes—
And then Gen started laughing.
Surprised, Shaya opened her eyes. That was definitely not the kind of response she was expecting. Unless he was mocking her? She knew it, he actually hated her, thought she was disgusting—no, but that wasn’t the kind of laughter he let out. Besides, she saw he was also in tears.
“W-why are you laughing? Why are you crying?”
“I…” he stopped, as if also surprised by this fact, wiping his eyes. “I was so nervous and thought I just had false hopes about what you were going to say, so I… dunno.” He scratched his head and averted his gaze. “I never thought this day would come.”
“What…?”
“I love you too, Shaya.”
“…What?”
Once again everything around seemed to stop, to stretch into infinity—or perhaps that was simply the time that it took for her mind to catch up to reality. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she’d hear those words. She started crying too.
“D-don’t cry, please,” Gen mumbled awkwardly.
“But I thought that you… I always thought that you…” She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “I always thought that you liked Niu.”
Gen’s expression slightly clouded at that, but he soon smiled again. “Maybe… maybe before… no, never mind. Oh, man, I always thought it was so obvious but I’ve been thinking about you all along.”
Oh Gods. She wasn’t dreaming, was she?
She felt like her heart was about to burst from happiness and embarrassment. For a few minutes past that they barely said anything, mostly laughed and cried. Shaya often fantasized about this exact scenario countless times, but she never imagined that reality would be like that.
A missing part of her fantasy, though, had been for them to share a kiss… but maybe she was too influenced by Niu’s fairy tales. Besides, even the mere thought made her blush to death. There would be plenty of time for that later.
Now that their love had finally, finally blossomed, they had all the time in the world.
Niu stared at the wooden door, unmoving. Her laborer escorts said nothing, merely waiting for her, despite her staying like that for a couple of minutes now.
Things had been quite hectic—would be an understatement. The damage incurred by Zade’s rampage was by no means small, but the silver lining was that no one Niu knew got killed, to her immense relief. Gen and Shaya returned safely, Roah was roughened but not in any danger, and even small NiU was only just momentarily out of commission, working perfectly fine after getting a small fix.
As the most important things were concluded, Niu wanted to go visit Gen as he recovered. It scared her that they were growing distant, and she wanted to fix that. She took some free time and came there.
Unfortunately, her timing was the absolute worst.
It wasn’t like she arrived at the exact moment the confession happened, but when she heard Shaya’s voice from inside the room she hesitated and waited for a while, pondering the right moment to knock, or else to leave and come back at another opportunity.
And, as she just stood there and listened, it finally happened. She heard everything that happened from start to finish, and her mind went blank.
For Niu, Gen was her first and best friend. He was the one who found her and introduced her to an entirely different world—the one who allowed her to escape her former life. On the other hand, she was also the reason he lost his arm, so her feelings were always ambivalent.
Did she love him?
She wanted to say no. Niu never felt the sense of longing that was supposedly part of romantic love. But perhaps she was just deluding herself, trying to escape reality. Just like she ignored before the obvious signs that Shaya was in love with him, and the obvious signs that Shaya was trying to help her get with Gen.
And now the other girl went ahead and decided to take him for herself. Not that Niu had the right to blame her. But in her heart, she still did.
A storm of incomprehensible emotions assaulted Niu. Doubts from the past and worries about the future intermingled, creating butterflies in her stomach—not the good kind, but the kind that made her feel unbearably hot and threatened to induce tears.
Coming into this world, she gained plenty, and yet she also lost plenty. That was, perhaps, just the latest loss in that series.
After what seemed like an eternity of listening to the excited pair’s conversation inside while small NiU rubbed against her affectionately as though to comfort her, she finally turned her back to the door, lowering the small bouquet of flowers in her hand. One flower broke loose, landing softly on the wooden floor.
Almost as if to symbolize her current state of mind.
Also, oddly similar to the other expression of love that ended in tragedy the day before.
As she straightened the bouquet and kept staring at the lone flower below, a sudden thought hit her head like a hammer, raising sparks.
Something like this could happen from time to time. Perhaps it was exactly because of her mind seeking refuge from the painful thoughts that plagued it at the moment, that this idea suddenly sprang into her mind.
An inspiration bloomed. Just a certain, small association that led to her recalling several seemingly unrelated incidents, connecting them, and then wondering.
Hadn’t she seen something similar before? And hadn’t she seen that several times before, too?
Niu latched into the idea hungrily. She pushed aside her aching heart, tore her emotions from what was taking place right behind her and desperately began thinking.
Shaya declared her love and Gen reciprocated it. But that didn’t matter at all. It was a world-shattering event of a kind, to be sure, but Niu didn’t—shouldn’t—mind that at all, because she might have possibly found the seam they’d been looking for—
Screaming on the inside, she rushed away from the hospital. There were now many things she had to check on.
A lone figure was walking along the shoreline, far from most settlements, trying to avoid even the various fishing villages strewn here and there. She couldn’t allow herself to be seen for a while around Rumdon, after all, as they were most likely still looking for her.
Linza was in a lot of pain, but had to get out of there as soon as possible.
Her survival probably had been nothing short of a miracle. Slashed and stabbed by Molton, she was doomed to die, falling into the vast ravine. She couldn’t even channel well due to the pain, but desperately tried reducing her weight and flung her cloth ball wildly.
She knew that Molton would try to verify her death, so merely falling safely meant nothing. She hadn’t expected her random throw to lead her into a small hole at the cliff side. She tried hanging to it but then slipped, falling down—and landed on another jutting rock that led into a somewhat bigger depression in the ravine.
Bleeding and with her mind hazy, she crawled inside and waited, rounding her body. She thought she saw a figure moving in the air nearby, but even if it was Molton, he didn’t seem to notice her presence.
Some time seemed to pass; she suddenly realized that she regained her consciousness, meaning she’d lost it at some point. Her body screaming at her now that she was awake, she finally started treating her wounds. She always carried various healing salves and the like on her, just in case, even if these would not be so effective against wounds of that caliber. She tore her clothes to create makeshift bandages and bit back cries of pain, just in case.
Linza was weak and lost a lot of blood, but after about an hour she judged it to be safe enough. Molton was probably the only man who’d be able to investigate this area of the mountain, so she wasn’t too worried about pursuit. If they thought her dead it was even better, but she couldn’t count on it.
She didn’t have much confidence in her ability to treat herself, but she also couldn’t go to any physician. And she had to get away as soon as possible even in her wounded state.
When she felt confident enough in her channeling, she went down the ravine. Following this route Linza was able to safely leave the area of Copius, taking nearly the entire day to go around the town surrounding the mountain.
As night fell, she finally passed out at some bush.
She woke up groaning in pain at the middle of the night. Linza replaced her bandages, drank some water from a lake and went back to sleep.
Whether she lived or not, at least her work was finished. Her client asked for three assassination attempts, and she made them. Her payment had been in the form of small diamonds, which she carefully kept in a pouch hidden within her clothes, so that was still safe.
This mission was possibly her worst yet. It wasn’t her first time getting wounded during an assassination, but definitely never to this extent. Well, she should consider herself extremely lucky for escaping from the legendary Molton, at any rate.
That’s enough Rumdon for me for the next decade or so, I think, she grumbled in her mind as she fell asleep. She somehow survived the night and kept going.
A lone figure was walking along the vast labyrinthian underground complex of Marmony. Owing to their heavy body, their pace was slow, but they already knew the fastest and safest path to the surface.
The Stroba fell, conquered by their long-time enemies of Kalden. Once this fact became abundantly clear, Moanin finally exited their hiding place.
It was currently night-time, so the corridors (lit by phosphorescent mushrooms, as always) were almost empty, allowing Moanin to avoid any attention. Even so, when they took a certain turn, suddenly a pair of Kaldenian soldiers on their patrol appeared.
They barely had a chance to even raise a voice of surprise before Moanin threw a glass sphere at the ground and a sickeningly sweet smell instantly permeated the area. Moanin simply kept walking by the soldiers without them doing anything, not even letting out a voice. Soon they continued walking as if nothing happened.
Moanin’s supply was running low, but they estimated it should be enough for them to get out of Stroban territory without any issue. These glass spheres contained an extremely condensed form of the potion known as Iv-505, an agent that caused brief confusion, disorientation and short-term memory loss to anyone that inhaled it. Moanin had already ingested the antidote for it, of course. A useful tool for sneaking around while avoiding people’s attention; they did the same even when the soldiers had busted into their hiding place, causing them to report it as empty.
Now Moanin made their way outside, using these spheres as they saw fit. It was not a foolproof plan, after all, which was why they waited until things calmed down and late night. Even then they had the sneaking suspicion that Aisbroom would be immune to this trick, so they snuck around carefully.
During these last days they wondered what happened to their foolish descendant and their companion. Not even rumors managed to flow their way, and all their loyal subordinates had either surrendered or been killed in the ensuing fight.
If they managed to escape, then perhaps Moanin would meet them again. Even so, they had the distinct feeling that, at the very least, Monan did not survive.
That would be a most unfortunate result. It truly pained their heart to think about it. Sweet, sweet Monan… so useless, and yet so endearing. They too were part of Moanin’s plans, and if they perished during it, Moanin could only hope that their death would bring more utility than their life.
Moanin finally got out. There were a few guards around the perimeter of Marmony, so they had to use a couple more spheres to slip out, but they did so successfully.
They were getting tired, sweaty and their body was aching. They drank some Sa-077 as a stimulant, but that wouldn’t hold forever. Moanin had to find a place to rest.
Even they were unsure what the future held, but as long as they were alive everything was fine. No, even if they weren’t alive, their plan still seemed to be more or less going along as they envisioned it. So Moanin found themselves satisfied.
Some would say that the Stroba had fallen, but Moanin would disagree. They may have been humiliated, they may have suffered plenty and been brutally beaten down—
Even so, they were one step closer to salvation.
Salom found himself rather confused by the sudden request. These last days were full of many discussions between the two countries and they barely had time to breath, but now Niu asked him of all people to do something quite strange.
Trust me, Niu had told him, I do not want to get any hopes up, but this might prove to be very important.
It seemed that both Plainland and Fairland went through dangerous times, and yet the two Queens managed to survive and persist. The assassin aiming for Levia had been stopped and probably killed, and Swen had surprisingly managed to uncover even another assassin. They couldn’t fully relax just yet, but it was still a huge accomplishment.
More importantly, perhaps, now that the existence of the link with Fairland became known to the entirety of Rumdon—and indeed soon would spread through the entire world—there would be many new challenges.
But Salom realized that Niu wouldn’t ask for something like that as a joke or a trifle, so he set aside some time for the requested investigation. Luckily, with Copius being the capital and having the University in it, there was indeed the sort of expert that Niu was looking for.
He spoke to her again a few days later, armed with the answer she sought and a heavy suspicion that he knew what this was all about.
“I’ve inquired about the flower,” he told her. “Professor Ginarmo of the Nature Department claims that it is a rare species, one that was seemingly discovered only in recent years… the major theory being that it was imported from abroad, although no records of it exist in Sacrona as well.”
A small delay as the message was sent through the Heavenly Board and heard, and then Niu responded into his mind.
So it’s as I suspected… do you understand where my thoughts are headed to?
“Yes, I believe I know what you are thinking about, Niu. You believe that this genus of flower came from Fairland, right?”
Indeed, Niu replied, sounding pleased. The moment I recalled the existence of that flower, I went to ask Aisbroom about it—and you know what? It is an extremely common flower here, found all over the place. It doesn’t have any unique characteristics whatsoever, but its appearance is very striking, and so I have recognized it on several different occasions.
“And you believe,” said Salom, “that it means there is some way. A way to pass between the worlds…”
Yes. After all, this flower’s existence on Plainland predates the Beasts’ attack. Meaning, it couldn’t be connected to them. Roah theorized that perhaps it is a method faint enough that allows only things as small as seeds and pollens to pass, but what do you think?
A sound theory. It was either someone having travelled between the worlds before—an unlikely conclusion, given the information both sides possessed—or that there already was a path, however slim. And if such a path existed…
“We might be on the right track,” Salom agreed, smiling. Now that he ascertained the full scale of Niu’s idea and vocalized it, he was in fact starting to get excited as well. “There is definitely a path, and it is very likely that tentacle somehow made use of it, whether intentionally or not.”
That always seemed to be the biggest mystery of all: the tentacle did carry the black monsters, but never with the speed or the distance that the transported people experienced.
Yes. We are so, so close, Niu responded. She too was getting more and more excited. I’m glad that my hunch was right and that I asked you. We need to start investigating this in earnest immediately. Soon, we might be able to connect the two worlds once and for all!
We are created when all color fades.
We are nothing and everything at the same time. We begrudge the light and yet also fear the darkness. We are neither black nor white in essence.
We hunger. We devour. We wish for everything to end—so that everything can begin.
And you are much of the same, no? We ask you to join us. Be absorbed in our palette, for there can be no greater joy or pain.
We ask: who are you? Who… are you?