Unnamed Memory

 10. Moon Fragments
A vast, pale-blue sky stretched out overhead.
Clouds streamed past and filtered the heat of the sun, shielding those below.
Amid this gentle afternoon, the clang of metal clashing against metal echoed throughout the castle courtyard. The clear sound rang brightly. At times, it would come in quick staccato, while at others, it would be a slow legato.
“Don’t fall back right away, Tinasha.”
“Urgh.”
Practice sword in hand, the witch parried blows from a similar weapon. She advanced toward her opponent’s left. Leaning forward lightly, she attempted to knock him off his feet.
Her blade was repelled with a soft clink, however. It went flying out of her hand, rotated several times in midair, and landed some distance away.
“Oh, that was close,” she said, clutching her numb wrist as she eyed the fallen sword.
Oscar rested the flat of his sword on Tinasha’s shoulder as he drawled, “Put up a barrier to repel anyone who might get close. I don’t want stray swords impaling people.”
“All right,” Tinasha agreed, and she jogged over to retrieve the weapon. After checking her wrist, she took hold of the hilt and assumed a fighting stance again.
“Is His Majesty here?” asked Als as he popped into the lounge. He’d looked everywhere for his king, and this was the last place on the list. He cocked his head to the side when he failed to find Oscar there, either.
Kav looked up from the essay he was writing and answered, “He’s outside.”
“Outside?” Als repeated, glancing toward the windows in the back. The mages who frequented the lounge were standing there, watching the courtyard below.
Als joined them and peered down, too. There he found his lord and the witch having a sword fight. “What’s going on here?” he inquired.
Pamyra answered him with a wince. “His Majesty said his reflexes were slowing and dragged Lady Tinasha out there.”
“I see.”
The witch was quite capable with a sword, but Oscar’s superior skill was quite apparent, even at a distance. Als, who fell somewhere between the two when it came to swordsmanship, studied their practice with rapt interest.
“Those two really do get along well,” commented Sylvia.
“I suppose they do,” replied Doan from his spot next to her. Then he remembered something, and an evil smirk crossed his face. “There’s only four months left in their contract. How about we bet on whether they’ll get married before it expires?”
“What?” cried Sylvia. Her brows knitted disapprovingly.
From behind them, Kav declared, “I’ll wager on it never happening,” without even looking up from his writing.
Doan laughed out loud after hearing his challenge so readily accepted.
“I bet that they will get married!” Sylvia shot back with a huff. Her cheeks were puffed out.
With sides drawn, the instigator of the wager joined in and said, “I’m with Kav. It won’t happen.”
Als shook his head in exasperation as he listened to the three mages. When the trio looked at him expectantly, however, he admitted, “I think they will. That’s my hope anyway.”
The votes were split half-and-half, and everyone looked pensive. Pamyra, who hadn’t placed a bet yet, offered, “I think the most important issue facing them isn’t their own feelings but the political situation surrounding them.”
“True enough,” Doan agreed with a nod.
Als cut in. “But in terms of someone who’ll be an immediate asset, there’s no better queen than Miss Tinasha. She’s strong, and she’s the heir to Tuldarr. She has knowledge and techniques that any other country would love to have.”
“She brought almost all the artifacts from the Tuldarr treasure vault to Farsas,” Pamyra revealed.
“You don’t say,” Als replied. He looked down at the witch in the courtyard with a good degree of shock. She was parrying and thrusting her sword in silence, her lithe form supple and flexible.
Pamyra watched her lady calmly. “I bet they will get married. I’d like her to find happiness sometime soon.”
Unaware she was the subject of much speculation, Tinasha lunged again and once more found her sword knocked away.
Oscar returned to his study, feeling satisfied now that he’d loosened up his muscles. Tinasha, however, flopped onto the couch by the wall as soon as she got through the door. She crumpled into her seat like a boneless cat.
“You all right?” Oscar asked with a frown.
“I’ll be fine once I’ve had an hour to rest. I don’t have a lot of stamina…”
“You should put on a bit more weight.”
“I don’t think I can build any more muscle than this,” she answered, staring at her thin arms and legs. To all appearances, mage’s bodies were low in fat and muscle.
It was stranger still that she could even wield a sword with that physique, but perhaps her many years of experience had afforded her technique enough to compensate. In reality, no one could’ve held something as heavy as a sword without first strengthening their physical form in some way.
“You’re not tired?” Tinasha asked.
“That was just a warm-up for me. Lately I feel like I’m going to rot away behind a desk.”
As she thought about it, Tinasha realized that she’d seen Oscar doing nothing but clerical work for the past three weeks. The last time the king had enjoyed some fresh air and exercise had been during the death song incident.
To Tinasha, Oscar seemed the type who belonged out in the thick of battle. The truth, however, was that he spent almost all his time dealing with documents. He never even took time off. Tinasha felt a bit sorry for him. Oscar was still a young man, after all.
“What do you think about visiting the brothel?” the witch suddenly suggested.
“Are you teasing me?” Oscar asked, incredulous.
“I’m not trying to…,” Tinasha said, floating up into the air and zooming over to his side. She was so tired that it was easier to use magic than walk.
With his free hand, Oscar tugged on a lock of her hair. “I’d rather you take me to the sea again.”
“That’s easy enough,” replied the witch, sinking down onto the edge of the desk and picking up the papers that were left. She felt like there weren’t as many as usual. Checking the clock, she saw that it was only noon. “Then how about I help you with these, and we go somewhere in the evening? We can go to the sea or wherever else you’d like.”
Oscar’s eyes widened a fraction at her suggestion. “We can go anywhere?”
“As long as it’s on the mainland. The city, the mountains, the lake, anywhere.”
“The lake, then,” Oscar decided.
“The lake it is,” Tinasha repeated with a soft smile.
Oscar felt his heart dance with joy like when he was a child.
After all his hard work, he’d earned a bit of fun. So long as he was with his witch, he couldn’t ask for anything more.
With Tinasha’s help, Oscar’s remaining paperwork was resolved in under half an hour. She went back to her rooms to get ready and changed into a light, flowy dress.
“Normally the two of you are busy when you go out together, so relax and enjoy yourselves,” Pamyra said cheerily as she helped her lady change.
Tinasha nodded but picked up on something odd she couldn’t overlook. “Something about what you said makes it sound like we’re a pair of lovers…”
“That’s precisely what it looks like.”
“Wait…,” Tinasha objected, feeling as if something was wrong.
Pamyra gave the witch a placid smile in return. “Judging by appearances, the two of you are very intimate.”
This was a clear wake-up call. When Tinasha reflected on how she and Oscar normally interacted, she could certainly see why things would seem that way. Tinasha acknowledged the facts and let out a sigh. “I guess it’s because I’ve gotten used to him touching me all the time…and I end up touching him, too. If this keeps up for another hundred years, I might end up marrying him by mistake. Scary!”
“Will it really take another hundred years…? And even then, ‘by mistake’…?” Pamyra murmured, feeling incredibly disappointed. She was hoping to see her lady happily wed.
Oscar and Tinasha left the castle before sunset. First, they used Tinasha’s transportation array to jump to her tower; then they flew farther west on Nark’s back. Oscar was in holiday mode, carrying a normal longsword instead of Akashia.
“Which lake are we headed to?” he inquired.
“Lake Soknas in the south of Old Tuldarr. Now it’s part of Magdalsia, I believe. We’re almost there.”
Magdalsia was a small nation in the southwest. Cattle farming thrived there, and mountains and forest dominated the majority of the country.
As they flew through the evening sky on Nark’s back, red slowly began to tinge the sky. The setting sun dipped over the mountaintops. Tinasha pointed to the overlapping peaks.
“There it is, look.”
Tucked between the mountains was a flat stretch of land. Its edges were ringed with trees, and the lake in the center glittered with a reflection of the evening sun. Nark gradually dropped altitude.
“I came here many, many times when I was little. A long time ago, you used to be able to collect bluish crystals called moonstones by the waterside, but I heard that you almost never find them now. I miss them,” Tinasha explained.
“…I see,” Oscar answered.
It was rare for the witch to talk about her past, and Oscar studied her face intently. He saw only nostalgia there, no gloom, and that reassured him.
Nark descended lower and lower. By the time the dragon was about three stories above the ground, it was flying directly over the lake. The witch leaned to one side off the dragon’s back and gazed down below. The water was clear but fairly deep, as the bottom wasn’t visible.
“Where should we land?” Tinasha wondered aloud.
“Okay, let’s go!” Oscar declared.
“What?”
He scooped her up in his arms and leaped off the dragon.
Her long scream echoed across the lake, followed by a gigantic splash.
Several seconds later, Oscar floated to the surface with Tinasha in his arms. He burst out laughing at the shock on her face.
“Y-you gave me a scare… What do you think you’re doing?”
“I thought that would be nice and invigorating.”
“It was more like terrifying!” Tinasha cried. She felt all over his body to check for injuries. He’d shielded her from the impact, so she was fine. Most likely owing to the protective barrier, even his sword was still in its sheath. All was well.
Looking up, Oscar saw Nark circling the lake while shrinking smaller; it had noticed its master was gone. Still laughing, Oscar readjusted his hold on Tinasha. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you scream.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve heard it myself…,” she grumbled, placing a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and pushing off up into the air. She wrung out water from the hem of her dress. She hadn’t planned to swim today, so the cloth was sopping and heavy. Looking down, Tinasha saw that Oscar had started swimming. Fortunately, the water temperature was perfect. He was having so much fun that he actually looked his age for once, and Tinasha grinned. “It looks like this will be a good break for you. I’m glad.”
“All thanks to you. Does anything live in this lake?”
“In the past, it was just ordinary sea creatures, but now no one knows. Try to be careful.”
“Got it.”
After flying around the area, Nark landed on the witch’s shoulder. She lowered herself to the surface of the water and sat down there.
The eastern edge of the lake glittered a crimson shade, while in the west it was dark from the shade of the trees. A pale moon began to claw its way up. The sky was still a few shades lighter than the color of Oscar’s eyes.
Tinasha raked back her wet hair. She could use magic to dry it, but it wasn’t especially necessary, since it could very easily get wet again. Oscar swam up to her and rested his chin on her knees. “You look like a water spirit doing that.”
“Do I? Maybe I shouldn’t be sitting on the water.”
“Eh, I think it’s fine,” Oscar said. He tugged on her hair to bring her face close and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Tinasha’s eyes narrowed like a cat’s, and she gazed back at him with a complicated look on her face. “You know, Pamyra said we seem like a pair of lovers.”
“Do you have a problem with that?” Oscar’s counter came so quickly that the witch had to take a moment to consider the question. Even if they seemed that way to others, that didn’t mean anything had actually changed.
“…Not really.”
“I suppose we would, though,” Oscar commented, smiling at Tinasha as he pushed back stray locks of his hair. Most of his smiles were more on the intimidating side—wry smirks or amused grins—so when he showed a simple grin like this, it was utterly captivating.
Tinasha reached out to touch his face. His blue eyes reflected the darkling sky. Upon gazing into them, she thought she could see the moon there, too, and leaned closer for a better look.
That was when Oscar yanked Tinasha down into the water, cradling her in his arms and pulling her to him. Not a moment later, something whizzed through the air. Something flew in from the shore and collided with Oscar’s barrier.
“What was that?!” Tinasha cried.
“An arrow…,” Oscar replied.
Tinasha rushed to catch Nark in her arms as the creature hit the water. Narrowly avoiding sinking, it thrashed in her arms. Oscar stood in front of them protectively, glaring at the shore.
“Did you hit it?”
“I don’t know. It went into the water.”
Five men stared out at the lake surface from the forest at the water’s edge.
It’d looked like someone was sitting on top of the water, but that must have been an optical illusion. One man gave up and shrugged, lowering his bow.
“Would’ve been great to get a water spirit’s treasure, though.”
“If that really was a water spirit, you don’t want to provoke it. And even if you killed it, it would just sink into the lake and you’d never get it.”
“Whatever it was looked human, but it was probably a fish or something.”
The men exchanged disappointed and relieved remarks as they turned back to leave.
Just then, a loud splash came from behind them.
There was a woman standing on the shore that they could see through the trees. Her feet were submerged, and the hem of her black dress trailed in the water. Long jet-black hair and glistening white skin painted a portrait of ethereal beauty.
The men froze, but one of the younger ones pulled out an arrow. Taking that as a signal, the rest of the group did the same.
“Wait. We’re human,” the woman insisted. The men squinted suspiciously at her.
“Human? Really?”
“Yes, really. We came from Farsas.”
“I knew you’d look like a water spirit,” came a new voice. Startled, the group of hapless hunters scanned the woods. They saw a young man leaning against a tree with a sword fastened at his hip. He was dripping wet from head to toe, as if he’d been swimming. “That’s my companion. She’s a mage.”
“Ah…,” the men murmured, finally accepting the explanation. Mages were a rare sight in rural lands, though there were many in Farsas who were ignorant of magic users as well.
A man who looked to be the oldest of the group stepped forward. “We’re very sorry. We were convinced she was a water spirit and acted terribly. Are you hurt at all?”
“I’m fine,” the woman said with a bright smile, coming to stand next to her companion. The men bowed their heads, abashed.
“Normally, we’d be too scared of a water spirit to lay a finger on one, but we panicked…”
“Has there been some sort of problem recently?” inquired the witch.
“No, there’s a festival in our town today,” one hunter explained.
“A festival? For water spirit elimination?” Tinasha repeated, finding it curious. Quickly, she dried her clothes and Oscar’s. The men were thoroughly impressed by the trick.
One man in the middle of the group laughed as he explained, “It’s a marriage festival. Nowadays, the celebration almost never accompanies a real marriage, but the whole town still gets into it. People come from neighboring towns and villages to take part, too. Would you two like to join in?”
“What would that entail?” Tinasha pressed.
“Women just wait in town. Men make the rounds of the lake and rustle up gifts—from nature, that is. They bring them back to the woman they want to propose to.”
“I see.”
Rural areas had curious festivals. Mountain hamlets without much in the way of entertainment might toil all year preparing for festivals like this one. While Tinasha was impressed, she had no intention of participating. No sooner had she opened her mouth to refuse the invitation than Oscar tapped her lightly on the head.
“Sounds interesting. Let’s do it.”
“What?! Wh-what’s gotten into you?” she protested.
“We’re here and everything, so why not? You go head on into town.”
“You can’t be serious… You don’t even have Aka—”
Tinasha was about to say Akashia when Oscar ground his knuckles against her temples.
“I’ll be fine. Go on now,” Oscar insisted.
“I didn’t miss you doing this to me! Ow!”
Oscar patted his worrywart protector’s head. Leaning slightly, he whispered in her ear, “We’re somewhere safe. There’s no danger, so relax and wait for me. Things like this can be fun once in a while.”
“…All right. We did come here for you in the first place…”
Oscar still had Tinasha’s protective barrier, but above all else, he was a strong fighter in his own right. The townsmen saw that they’d wrapped up their discussion and showed Tinasha the way back to the town. Apparently, while there were only five of them now, many more would soon arrive to scour the woods.
Oscar gave the witch a jaunty wave. “Don’t follow any men you don’t know.”
“I’m not some lost child!” Tinasha retorted. While she still felt a bit uneasy, she had no choice but to leave and head for the town.
It only took a few minutes of walking before she arrived at the settlement. The place was in full festival mode. People were crowded onto the narrow streets, with alcohol and food on offer everywhere. It was completely dark, but soft lights gleamed from every direction, giving the whole place a warm glow. The sound of children singing drifted from somewhere nearby.
As Tinasha stood and paused at the entrance taking everything in, an unfamiliar middle-aged woman tapped her on the shoulder. “You’re here for the festival, aren’t you? Where have you come from?”
“Farsas.”
“Another faraway place… Well, you’re welcome here. Are you here alone?”
“I came with someone, but he’s out gathering things in the forest.”
“Ah, so you’ve got a boyfriend. Then you’ll need to change.”
“What?”
Before Tinasha could even ask why she needed to change, she was led away.
The middle-aged woman brought Tinasha to the town gathering hall, where she guided the confused witch into a room jammed full of women changing. A chorus of admiring cries rose up from the women near the entrance.
“Wow, so gorgeous.”
“Heard she came from Farsas. So sophisticated.”
The excited women ushered Tinasha into a chair before she could get a word in edgewise and set about applying makeup to her.
“Um…”
“Don’t talk! I’m putting on your lipstick now.”
All the ladies surrounding poor Tinasha appeared to be married. They gleefully painted her face. The younger women, on the other hand, were busy getting themselves ready. Tinasha wondered why she’d bothered coming to such a distant place when she could’ve been subjected to the same treatment back in the castle. She wanted to run away but knew that it’d upset the people attending to her.
Partway through a little sigh, Tinasha’s eyes suddenly widened. Something had made contact with Oscar’s protective barrier. A slight fluctuation in magic reverberated within her.
“What’s wrong?” asked the woman powdering Tinasha’s face after noticing her darkened expression.
“Nothing… I’m just worried about my companion.”
“He’s fine. You should trust your boyfriend more!” the lady assured her with a grin, clapping Tinasha on the back cheerfully. Worry had already sunk in, however, and Tinasha couldn’t shake it.
Finally, the women finished getting ready and trooped out to the town plaza. Tinasha followed, clad in the outfit she’d been forcibly loaned.
The center of the village was now full to the brim with women in gorgeous costumes, filling the place with the bright din of youth. As the women waited for their suitors, men returned from the woods one after another, found their mates, and presented them with gifts. Each presentation earned a chorus of sighing admiration, which in turn only elevated the overall excitement.
Tinasha took in the spectacle, standing at one edge of the plaza with a veil covering her face.
She did have some awareness of how her features made her stand out in a crowd. All she had to do now was meet up with Oscar and go home, but no matter how long she waited, he failed to show. Tinasha detected no further disturbances to the barrier, but that did little to reassure her.
The witch looked up at the sky from the gap in the veil. The moon glimmered translucently in the heavens.
She wondered if she should go after him or not.
It wasn’t that Tinasha didn’t trust Oscar, but knowing that he was alone made it difficult for her to relax. She was staring at the ground, plagued with indecision, when her veil was suddenly lifted up. Startled, Tinasha looked up.
“Did I keep you waiting?” asked a familiar voice.
Tinasha recognized Oscar and sighed deeply in relief. When they parted, his clothes were dry, but for some reason, he’d gotten all wet again. As she reached out to dry his clothes, she smiled and admitted, “I was worried.”
“No trust in me at all, huh? Hold out your hand.”
Puzzled, Tinasha held out both hands. Oscar dropped something he’d been holding into them. The five rounded crystals were tinged with faintest blue.
“These are…”
“I bet you haven’t seen them in a while, right?”
The townspeople surrounding the pair gasped at the sight of the rare moonstones.
For a while, Tinasha merely stared at the collected stones that rested in her open palms. She recalled the ones she’d once collected herself. They were long gone now.
Warmth bubbled up inside the witch’s chest. Blinking rapidly, she felt on the verge of tears. When she looked up at Oscar, he offered her an abashed smile.
“Thank you. I’m really…very happy,” Tinasha said, beaming at him. While her childhood was long past, the grin on her face still appeared innocent. She was positive she wasn’t doing a very good job of smiling, but she really was very happy.
Oscar leaned in close to her. She closed her eyes and accepted his kiss.
It didn’t matter that they looked like a pair of lovers even though they weren’t. She couldn’t put it into words.
It was enough that he was next to her, touching her.
All of it felt entirely natural, and that’s what made it real.
After Tinasha changed back, she and Oscar left the town. From Nark’s back, they watched the lake grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
Tinasha was clutching the moonstones protectively. “Where were these?”
“The lake bottom. I grabbed a water spirit and made it show me.”
The witch’s jaw dropped; she was speechless. This man had the rare talent of finding trouble wherever he went.
Tinasha didn’t feel like lecturing him at the moment, however. The moonstones were warm from her body heat.
“When we get back to the castle, will you change their shape and mold them into a necklace or something?” Oscar inquired.
“No… I’ll keep them like this.”
“Okay then,” he accepted, patting her on the head. She closed her eyes, happy.
Oscar’s touch was warm and fond, and Tinasha abandoned herself to the memories that washed over her.


Unnamed Memory

 11. Green Vines
The wide underground cave was stuffy and damp.
Revered as sacred ground, the hollow had long been kept a secret. A young man clad in blue gazed at murals that illustrated major moments in history. His sword was already wet with blood, red droplets dripping off the tip.
For a time, all was quiet and no one spoke.
A man who’d fallen before the youth looked like he was still breathing, though only faintly. Another man knelt next to him and looked up at the youth in blue.
“Who are you? Why do you have that sword? Only our leader should be able to inherit th—” In the middle of speaking, he caught sight of his elder brother, facedown on the ground. The man’s older sibling was the current leader of their clan. Sure enough, his hand was curled around the hilt of a sword identical to the one the mysterious young man was carrying.
There should’ve only been one of that blade in all the world. What did this mean? Why did this young man have the weapon’s twin and know of their holy place? Why had he tried to kill his elder brother?
The man’s mind swirled with doubts, and the one garbed in blue looked down at him. “You were just and fair. You treated me sincerely, which is more than I can say for my overly fickle father. It was you who taught me how to fight. I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“…What did you say?”
He was certain he’d never taught this boy anything. This was their first time meeting. The man’s clan was nomadic. They were a band of robbers that drifted from one country to the next. This strange blue assailant had appeared in one of the safe houses the clan maintained.
The man’s older brother, the leader, leveled a furious look at the youth. Evidently, the mysterious boy had appeared while they were raiding a town, and they’d chased him off. The leader went after the fleeing boy and entered this sacred place. By the time the leader realized he’d been lured into a deserted area, the one in blue cut him down easily.
The boy ignored his questions and continued blithely, “I actually wish I could’ve saved my mother. But even if I’d prevented that raid, I wouldn’t have disappeared. I know that if I let him live, he’ll make my mother unhappy someday. He’ll burn her village down and take her away, treating her like his plaything. He won’t give her enough food, and he’ll make her sleep on straw. He’ll whip her harder when she gets sick and weak. He’ll try to be a good father to me, but…no father of mine would treat my mother like an old rag.”
The youth’s words were directed at the clan leader’s younger brother, who could only guess at the meaning of the speech. Dazed, he looked at the boy and asked, “What are you saying…? You and he aren’t even that far apart in age. He can’t be your—”
“Exactly. This all happens later for you. But that future isn’t going to exist. I’ve altered it for the sake of my mother.” The boy scowled, and his face steeled against pain. “My mother was a kind and beautiful person. She should never have been forced to live that kind of life…”
The youth in blue let out a deep sigh. Quietly, he spoke into the dark cave.
“After her death…I learned of a way to change the past. Then I came here.”
His voice echoed off the rock walls and faded away. The clan leader’s younger brother ruminated on what the boy had said over and over. Finally, he said, “…So that means you’re…”
What the boy said pointed to only one thing.
He’d come from the near future to change the past. The one in blue was the spawn of the clan leader and some woman he’d abducted. The young man had somehow gone back in time to save his mother from her fate.
It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable even. That the boy carried a copy of the clan leader’s sword was powerful evidence, however. The weapon was only to be bequeathed to the next head of the faction of bandits, after all.
“Tell me your name,” the younger brother of the clan leader insisted, hardly understanding why he’d said it himself. He simply felt like if he didn’t ask now, he’d never know. Nothing would be left of the boy. It would be as if he were never there. Perhaps the man asked for a name because he believed that. For the first time, the boy’s face relaxed.
“You were the only one who was sympathetic to my mother. You helped me when I was little and buried her in her home village. That’s why I’ll tell you everything. My name—and how I came to be here.”
The boy glanced down at his father on the ground. A flowing pool of blood made it clear that he had little time left. That much was clear to all three who were present. The boy returned the sword to its sheath and presented it to his young uncle. “If possible, give this sword to my mother someday. Tell her it’s a gift from someone who wishes her happiness.”
As soon as the boy’s father died, he would wink out of existence with him.
With that moment fast approaching, the uncle accepted the sword…and nodded.

The eastern side of the mainland was home to the major nation of Gandona and an equally large country called Mensanne. There were many far smaller states that dotted the area as well. This created a land of many crisscrossing international borders. Unfortunately, this often gave rise to conflicts. Many of the smaller domains repeatedly invaded their neighbors.
Yarda’s invasion of Farsas ten years ago was one such case. Despite Yarda’s sudden attack, Farsas easily repelled the incursion. At the time, Yarda was well on its way to major nation status, but defeat saw it relinquishing half of its land.
One hundred years ago, Farsas built the fortress of Minnedart to keep an eye on its tumultuous eastern border. It was the largest garrison in the country, with thirty thousand troops stationed there at all times to secure the edge of Farsas territory.
“Inspecting the fortress? I’ll go, too. If I take my eyes off you, you’re bound to wind up in trouble,” said Tinasha.
“You’re the only one who would say that,” returned Oscar.
“Everyone thinks it; they just don’t tell you.”
Oscar eyed the witch from his desk. She was standing before him, riffling through his stack of paperwork. In three days, Oscar was heading to Minnedart with several military officers to conduct a regular inspection.
As the witch read up on the eastern border, she hummed admiringly. “I see there was a skirmish ten years ago.”
“A small one, yeah. You’re not really up on this stuff, are you?”
“I normally keep to myself… Ten years ago means you were alive to see it, right?”
Oscar thought that Tinasha’s long life often made her phrase things somewhat strangely, but he kept that idea to himself. Instead, he cast back to his memories of the conflict. “Yep. I remember it because during the cease-fire negotiations, Yarda said they wanted me to marry their princess.”
“What happened with that?” Tinasha pressed.
“I didn’t agree. It only would’ve made things worse,” Oscar explained.
“Oh right,” Tinasha said.
At the time, Oscar still had his curse. If the princess from Yarda had gotten pregnant and died, the two nations’ tenuous peace would’ve broken down in a heartbeat.
The curse breaker herself muttered, “Indeed, indeed,” evidently having banished all memory of the curse now that it was gone.
It seemed that Yarda bitterly regretted the entire affair, as they interpreted Farsas’s inexplicable rejection of the offer to mean that a Yardan princess wasn’t good enough to be queen of Farsas. Yarda had been in too weak of a position to back out of peace talks at the time, however, and ten years had done little to close the power gap between the two neighboring states.
While Oscar attended to other matters, he added, “It’ll take about three days, so pack for that.”
“All right,” Tinasha replied. She returned the papers she’d taken to the desk and vanished from the room. Snorting at how abruptly she’d left, Oscar picked up the documents.
On the day of the observation, Oscar, Tinasha, General Granfort, and three officers used a transportation array to reach the fortress of Minnedart.
Farsas had over forty generals, and Granfort was the oldest among them. His initial misgivings about the witch had softened quite a bit with time. This probably had something to do with Oscar’s father, the former king, recounting the events of seventy years ago to the members of the royal council.
This served to clear up the misconception that Tinasha was a witch scheming to possess the country and revealed that she had claimed the throne of Tuldarr. Someone like that had to be acknowledged as highly valuable to society. Granfort and the others came to welcome her as a counterbalance to Oscar, considering how she often scolded him and kept him in line.
Two generals stationed at Minnedart welcomed the inspection party. General Edgard, who commanded the fortress, was Granfort’s peer. The other, Galen, was a rather young officer of only twenty-seven years. They both appeared surprised to see the witch but concealed that feeling immediately and knelt to bow to their king. Once the ritual greetings were complete, Tinasha tugged on Oscar’s sleeve. “I really think I should have come in disguise…”
“That would be no fun for me. It’s fine,” Oscar replied in clipped tones. Tinasha scowled. As she followed him down a corridor in the fortress, she looked out the window and saw kids playing in a courtyard below. “Children live here?”
“Residents of a nearby village have been living here since last year. The men of the town died in a battle, so Minnedart took in their elderly, women, and children.”
“A battle…” Tinasha sighed. The children’s cheerful shrieks of joy echoed throughout the courtyard.
Carel, a soldier stationed at Minnedart, saw that it was his break time and headed for the courtyard. Once the kids saw him, they dropped the stones they were playing with and ran up to him gleefully.
“Carel! Tell us a story! We want a story!”
“A story, huh? What do you want to hear?”
“The story of the blue knight!”
“Again?” Carel asked. He removed his sword and placed it on the ground before sitting down cross-legged. He was only eighteen. Having joined the army two years ago, Carel was still at the recruit training stage. The kids surrounded him, their eyes shining with anticipation.
“Once upon a time, when our settlement was a vast prairie, there lived a beautiful girl in a village. A never-ending stream of suitors longed for her hand in marriage. But she turned them all away.”
“I guess none of them were very handsome.”
“Hush and listen. But one day, bad men on horses attacked the village. The bad men set fire to houses, burned the village, and tried to kill people. But then a knight dressed all in blue appeared. He drove out the bad men and saved the girl they were about to carry off. She was deeply moved and said she would be glad to marry him, but he declined and disappeared. The end.”
“Carel, that was over too fast!”
“Tell us a better story!”
The children protested one after another. Carel answered seriously, “It’s all true. That’s your story, and don’t ask for more.”
The kids continued to pout, and Carel was reaching to poke at their cheeks when he heard a young woman giggling from behind him. Whirling around, he saw a lovely and unfamiliar woman standing there. She met his eyes and bobbed her head to him.
“I’m sorry. I was curious about what kind of story you were telling,” said the king’s witch as she grinned.
“If that was over too fast, does that mean the real story is much longer?”
Carel was thrown into a fluster upon learning of her identity, but when Tinasha asked for details about the tale, he sat back down. The children had lost interest and gone off to draw pictures on the ground some distance away.
“The story I told is actually a real thing that happened in our village two hundred years ago. The blue knight was apparently the son of the girl he saved.”
“Er… So you’re saying he came from the future?” Tinasha asked.
“That’s right. He was the son she had after she was kidnapped by the riders. It’s said he came to the past to change his mother’s ill fate. Changing the past in such a way meant he’d never be born, though. Even knowing that, he still saved her… And legend has it that this is the sword the blue knight left behind.”
Carel held up the sword he’d set aside. The hilt was engraved with a horse motif. The blade appeared well used but carefully maintained. That it had been handed down for two centuries suggested there could be some magic housed within it.
The witch examined the weapon, then voiced an objection. “I see… I think this story is far from the kind meant for children.”
As folktales go, it was well made, but it was public knowledge that there was no way to go back in time, even with magic. The part about the knight coming from the future wasn’t true, but it was still an intricately formed story. Tinasha looked back at the kids playing.
“Do they come from the same village as you?” she asked.
“Yes… Actually, our home was attacked by a tribe of riders a year ago… We sent out troops to defend ourselves, but almost all the men were killed. Survivors were graciously allowed to stay here. Sometimes I curse myself for not having been there. I’m sure I could’ve done something…” Carel bit his lip.
Tinasha’s face darkened. According to Oscar, a band of horse riders belonging to no country—a group known as the Ito—had long plagued these lands. They were nomadic and roved from nation to nation. Their raids were sudden, and they disappeared just as quickly as they came. Many attempts had been made to stamp them out, but as they would immediately cross into another country and go into hiding, they’d evaded justice for a long time.
“The village chief’s wife hasn’t smiled for a whole year because her husband died protecting her. They just crush people’s lives underfoot without a care… I can’t let them get away with what they do,” Carel spat, his hands curling into fists. Anger filled his eyes, as if his hated foes were right there before him.
Revenge begat revenge. Tinasha knew that all too well.
That was why she couldn’t allow any threats to Oscar, not even the tiniest seed. She would intervene and nip them in the bud before they could take the form of revenge. She knew they were all laughable tricks. She also knew that she would accept it if she got herself killed someday as a result.
Regardless, she’d lived for far too long to cling to ideals… Her hands were already covered in blood.
After dinner following the first day of inspection, Galen asked Oscar about his sleeping arrangements and Oscar burst out laughing. The rest of the party gaped as their king howled uproariously.
“E-er, did I say something I shouldn’t have?” inquired Galen.
“Unbelievable. Did someone put you up to that?” snickered Oscar.
Galen had asked Oscar if the witch would be staying with him. It had seemed to be an innocent enough question, but it just as easily could’ve been the work of council members who’d pestered Oscar about marriage and heirs. After Oscar declared that he didn’t intend to choose anyone but Tinasha, quite a few people were now trying to push him in that direction.
Oscar prepared to tell Galen he was wrong, but Tinasha spoke up first from her place beside the king. With a hint of exasperation, she said, “If Oscar doesn’t mind, I don’t, either.”
“…Do you have a fever or something?” Oscar asked, placing his hand against her forehead in true confusion.
She didn’t feel hot, though she did frown at him. “I’m the one who insisted on coming along. It’s fine, I’ll just change my shape.”
“Oh right.”
Oscar remembered how she’d recently morphed herself into a dragon like Nark. The witch had the ability to change her outward appearance and age at will. With Tinasha as a wholly different creature, it was true that there would be nothing improper about them sleeping together.
“In that case, I’ve got no complaints,” Oscar declared.
Galen breathed a sigh of relief and departed. Oscar and Tinasha were left alone, and the witch said feelingly, “It’s actually perfect. This way I’ll know if you sneak out at night.”
“There really is no trust in this relationship…” Oscar groaned.
“I’d think it strange if there were,” Tinasha retorted coolly, then let out a little yawn.
The after-dinner conference lasted long into the night. The main topic of discussion was Yarda’s renewed suspicious activity. Oscar gave instructions to investigate, then retired to his bedchamber. There he found the witch dozing on the couch. It looked like she’d bathed and changed into loungewear.
“Tinasha, don’t sleep there,” Oscar said, tapping her lightly on the cheek, but she didn’t stir.
She’d never know if I snuck out now, thought Oscar ruefully. Unfortunately, even if he did, there was nothing to do right now.
Deciding to let Tinasha have a proper night’s rest, Oscar picked up her light frame and carried her to the bed—then he paused. He remembered how she shot up from the bed the last time he laid her down like this.
Trauma from four hundred years ago was the cause of that, but Tinasha might still be plagued by that same nightmare. Even if things with Lanak had been resolved, Oscar couldn’t be sure. After a few seconds’ consideration, he sat down on the bed with Tinasha in his arms. He lay her down in his lap and poked her cheek again.
“Wake up, wake up.”
With a little groan, the witch’s eyes fluttered open. Dark spheres heavy with sleep blinked up at Oscar.
“If you’re gonna go to sleep, do it in the bed,” Oscar chided.
“Okay…,” Tinasha murmured, crawling over to a corner of the huge bed with his help. Then she curled up like a cat and fell back to sleep.
While Oscar was relieved to see she wasn’t having a nightmare, he realized something else with chagrin.
“You didn’t change your shape at all…,” he muttered, grabbing a lock of her hair. This time, however, she showed no signs of waking.
Sighing, Oscar covered Tinasha with the blankets and then left to go take his own bath.

There were images she could never forget.
Blood and the body of her fallen husband. The young man she could see just past his body. His arm on the ground.
For whatever reason, these gruesome memories of the past played back in black and white.
The only color was the chilling eyes of the man glaring at her.
They were a deep green, the color of a forest that knew no sun.
She didn’t want to see him ever again. She didn’t want to look.
But that green continued to torment her.

After leaving the witch where she was and going to sleep, Oscar awoke in the dead of night with a strange suffocating sensation. He blinked his eyes open but had trouble seeing anything. His body felt heavy. Something warm was touching him.
As that went on, he realized something had slipped between his lips and was licking into his mouth. He woke up instantly.
Oscar was shivering and dizzy all over. The woman’s tongue intertwined with his. His hands were held down, and he moved one to touch her cheek.
She noticed it and slowly pulled back. She sat up and lay a hand along his face; he was staring at her. With the empty eyes of a dreamer, she gazed into his blue eyes…and spoke.
“Wrong…,” Tinasha murmured, then suddenly shouted, “No!” With that cry, she leaped up.
Oscar gaped at her. “What do you think you were doing…?”
“I got synced up…,” Tinasha replied, sounding mortified. She clutched the sides of her head as she leaned over the bed.
As she moaned in distress like a child, Oscar came back to himself and patted her head. “That’s enough—just explain. I don’t understand what’s happening. Did you suddenly feel like marrying me?”
“Not at all…”
“You don’t have to answer so fast.”
“I was in a deep sleep, so I dreamed on someone else’s frequency…”
“What the hell?” Oscar asked, rubbing his temples. The manner in which he’d been roused from bed had left his head spinning. Checking the clock, he saw it was still hours before dawn.
The witch pulled her knees under herself, sitting up straight on the bed. She appeared somewhat more collected now. “Most likely, someone in this fortress is asleep and dreaming of something passionate. They’re unconsciously broadcasting those thoughts. The person in question probably has magic, but likely doesn’t know how to control it. Something like this wouldn’t affect normal people, but I have magic, and I was tired… I guess I picked up on it. I’m sorry!”
“That was bad for my heart.”
“Please forget all about it…,” the witch begged, groveling. Just looking at her like that filled Oscar with fatigue. He didn’t even consider taking advantage of the situation; he was just exhausted. This brief, strange incident had left him feeling as though heavy stones were weighing down his nerves.
“You said it was wrong. What was wrong?” Oscar inquired.
“Your eye color, I think. It wasn’t green…,” Tinasha admitted.
“I’m glad you woke up,” Oscar said coldly. The witch refused to meet his eyes. Even if his response hadn’t been so frigid, she was still too ashamed of her own conduct. “Anyway, I’m going back to sleep. You better change your shape like you said you would.”
“Okay…”
Oscar lay back down, rolling so that he was facing away from Tinasha. The witch finally lifted her head and changed into a black kitten. Feebly, she wrapped her tail around herself. Unfortunately, sleep proved elusive for her after the shameful mistake she’d made.
When he woke up the next morning, Oscar picked up the curled-up cat by his pillow. The little animal gave a big yawn and jumped onto his shoulder, where it stretched. Oscar stroked its neck and said, his voice low, “If you want to stay a spirit sorcerer, you better remain in that form all day.”
The warning sent a shiver through the cat, and the creature shrank in on itself, ears drooping.

During the morning of the second day of inspection, Oscar made the rounds through the fortress. He listened to discussions of repairs for the deteriorating bastion walls. After that, he retired to a makeshift study and reviewed other reports. A few representatives of the refugee villagers requested an audience. Oscar granted it, and in came an elder—the former chief of the village—and a lovely young woman in her late twenties. Her pale golden hair was bound up, revealing the lines of her fine features. Ordinarily she would have been a peerless beauty, but at the moment, pronounced shadows cast a pall over her looks.
Sensing the presence of visitors, the black cat curled up on the corner of the desk lifted its head. It sat up slowly and stared at the young woman. Oscar took notice and glanced at her.
“I see. So it’s you.”
“Excuse me?” the woman asked.
“No, it’s nothing.”
The woman introduced herself as Elze, the widow of the chief who was murdered. Even when she smiled to be polite, sorrow could be felt in every line of her face. With the greetings concluded, she turned to leave, but Oscar called out to stop her. “Did your late husband have green eyes?”
His casual question caused her to stiffen. Her grief-stricken expression froze in shock, which Oscar found suspicious.
“No, they were brown.” The elderly former chief was the one to answer.
“Huh. Ah, sorry for asking about something trivial. You can go,” Oscar declared. Once they’d left the room, he rested his chin on a hand thoughtfully. Bored, he sent the ornamental crystal ball on the desk rolling toward the cat. Its ears perked up, and it pounced on it.
Oscar petted the cat as it toyed with the sphere, and he whispered into its black ears, “Whose dream do you think she was seeing?”
The cat ducked its head in a shrug and batted at the ball again with one black paw, sending it spinning.
Come noon, Oscar rode out of the fortress on horseback with Granfort and the other officers and soldiers.
Minnedart’s inspection was also something of an excuse to check on things in the adjoining country of Yarda. With a black cat riding on his shoulder, Oscar gazed curiously at a reddish-brown, craggy expanse from his perch on a cliff. “The landscape changes as if there really was some sort of boundary. It looks completely different from the fortress’s surroundings.”
“People say this area was formed from some kind of upheaval of bedrock during the Dark Age. There’s even steeper canyons closer to the border and tiny fissures hidden in the ground, so please be careful,” Tinasha warned.
“Will do,” Oscar said.
Rocky hills and jagged peaks of many different sizes clustered together to form a natural wall. The formation had long safeguarded Farsas’s eastern front until Minnedart was built. An incursive force that was marching west into Farsas would have to veer farther south to avoid the difficult terrain. That would put such an army’s path close to the border with Gandona.
Ten years ago, however, Yarda had crossed these precipitous canyons to invade. The eastern half of the rocky ravine had belonged to Yarda at the time, allowing them to lay their preparations without Farsas’s knowledge.
Oscar stroked the cat on his shoulder. “Time to head back. I still have to tour the village.”
Today marked one year since the refugees’ village had been attacked. Plans were underway to help them relocate. Many wanted to look around the ruins of their old home before they did so, however. They had left the fort together and were waiting with a guard escort at the base of the canyon region.
Oscar grabbed the reins and turned his horse around. Avoiding the protruding rock pillars that dotted the landscape, he guided his steed as it snaked its way down. As Oscar was jolted along in the saddle, he took in the sharp features of his surroundings. “When I’m with Tinasha, we teleport places a lot. It’s nice to travel normally for once.”
When the black cat heard that, it whapped Oscar’s head with a front paw. The king didn’t look like he minded the cat’s slaps, however. The rest of the party, following behind, didn’t know quite how to respond and stayed silent.
Once they were halfway through their descent, Oscar’s horse suddenly stopped. The black cat on his shoulder raised its head.
“Your Majesty? What’s wrong?” called Granfort. Before Oscar could respond, a shadow loomed overhead.
Looking up, they saw a full lineup of men stood on the rocky hills towering on either side. Each man had an arrow readied.
The king had close to fifty of the projectiles pointed at him. With startling calmness, he mused, “Ito, huh? I thought you were a horse tribe. Where are the horses?”
“Y-Your Majesty… You shouldn’t provoke them…,” Granfort insisted.
“Tinasha, don’t make a move. Stay down,” Oscar instructed, giving his protector a concise order. Hearing her name calmed the men’s nerves a fraction. But the cat, half on its feet already, threw him a look of protest before reluctantly settling back down on his shoulder.
One of the Ito archers stepped forward. He was tall and appeared to be in his early thirties. He looked down on the Farsasian party with eyes the same deep green shade as a sunless forest.
“I’m the leader of the Ito. I want to talk to the most powerful one among you.”
“I guess that’d be me,” Oscar drawled. Then, with all the majesty of a king infusing his tone, he went on to command, “Give us your name.”
The people of Farsas all sat up straight at that, and the archers recoiled slightly as well. Only the man who’d declared himself the Ito leader met Oscar’s gaze without flinching, though he did seem surprised. He threw out his chest and declared arrogantly, “My name is Javi. We want something and came to negotiate.”
“You’re awfully shameless for a thief. We wouldn’t mind cutting all of you down right here, right now,” Oscar needled.
“That’s some big talk considering the situation you’re in. Don’t you have eyes?” Javi retorted. He probably reasoned that with all his archers’ arrows trained on the Farsasian party from the high ground, they could kill the whole lot of them in a second. The instant a single shaft was loosed, however, it would be the Ito who fell. Oscar had only traveled to the border with a small party precisely because it was fewer people to protect if a fight broke out.
The king of Farsas responded with a shrug.
“You all can think what you want. Looting’s been our clan’s way of life for a long, long time. We take pride in it. How is that different from taking an army and attacking another country? I’m following a much more honest way of life than a man who doesn’t fight and just gives orders,” Javi snapped.
A cynical smile played about Oscar’s lips as the fur of the black cat on his shoulder bristled. It opened its mouth to growl threateningly, but Oscar picked it up by the scruff of its neck. He ignored the little animal’s struggling.
“You do love to talk, don’t you? What do you want?” asked Oscar.
“A woman,” Javi answered.
At that, Oscar and the cat exchanged a glance.

A dry breeze blew in from the deserted village. From horseback, Elze gazed out into the distance.
This had been a peaceful place once. At the time, Elze had thought things would continue that way forever.
She hadn’t been unhappy with her husband or her life in the village. Elze had married the man she’d been ordered to and built a home with him. He cherished her, and their life was idyllic. She was very happy—up until the day the village was attacked.
The man who killed her husband. His eyes had seared into her.
Elze didn’t want to see him ever again. She found herself unable to forget those deep green eyes, however.
How often had she wished to forget them? She’d spent many nights desperately wishing to return to how things used to be.
The more she thought, the more those eyes plagued her dreams. She had no idea how long it would be until she could escape them.
“What’s wrong, my lady?” asked Carel. The question brought Elze back to herself. The young man assigned to guard her was from her village. The concern in his voice was plain.
Elze shook her head minutely. “It’s nothing. I apologize.”
Each time she was called “my lady”—the term of address for a chief’s wife—it brought reality rushing back. She felt suffocated, like there was nowhere for her to go.
That hollow sensation was absolutely because she’d lost her husband. Elze could no longer see a place to move on to or a path to tread.
Ever since that day, she’d remained frozen.
“Elze,” came the voice of the former chief who’d accompanied her. She turned around, only to seize up in astonishment.
“Why…?”
The king’s expedition party was coming down from the rocky hills, but its members had clearly changed since they’d set out. General Granfort was at the head of the group, instead of the king. What’s more, men who appeared to be Ito riders were mixed in among them.
Guards around Elze began buzzing with concern over what’d happened. Carel’s face darkened at the sight of his hated enemies. Granfort, however, galloped over to Elze and said, “I apologize, but the situation has changed. We need you to come with us before we go to the village.”
“Come with…? To—to where…? Why are they…?”
“It’s a summons from His Majesty. You, at the very least, are to come with us,” Granfort declared with a grave look. Then he turned his horse around. Numb with shock and incomprehension, Elze followed, only to be reunited with those green eyes she had desperately wished never to see again.
The rocky protrusions jutted up together onto a hilltop composed of reddish-brown rock. Upon that was a natural, open clearing.
It was circular, situated atop huge, natural columns. The site was so high that a fall almost certainly meant death. There were large pieces of stone that rose higher surrounding it, however.
Oscar dismounted from his horse and brought only the cat with him to the unusually formed plateau. He looked around with admiration. “It’s like a giant cage. Interesting. Didn’t know this place existed.”
“This is a holy place for the Ito. It is said that a long time ago, a god once visited this place.”
“A god? Was it Aetea? A child of Aetea?”
“Neither. The god’s name has been lost. It was some other deity.”
Javi’s strange way of speaking made Oscar glance at the witch in cat form, but the cat only twitched its tail disinterestedly. Tuldarr had been an atheistic magic nation, after all.
More than thirty Ito riders arrayed themselves around the holy clearing, making no effort to hide their hostility. Oscar paid their attitude no mind, inspecting the cracks and fissures in the ground. He looked up to ask Javi, “So you want a duel?”
“I do. If you want to call over men from the fortress to fight, I’ll send a messenger.”
“No need. I’ll make do with the men I have here.”
The guards who accompanied their king didn’t appear intimidated, despite being outnumbered nearly five to one. They glared right back at the row of Ito men around the edge, who were emanating cold animosity.
Just then, Granfort appeared at the top of the narrow hill road leading to the clearing. Elze followed behind him, and she turned white as a sheet when she caught sight of Javi.
He stared at her evenly. “It’s been a while.”
“Ah…” was all she managed to get out before going motionless.
Oscar cocked his head to look at her. “Did Granfort tell you the situation?”
“Ah yes…,” Elze replied.
She was what Javi wanted.
One year ago, he’d failed to carry her off. This time for sure, he vowed to use force to take her away.
Currently, Elze had no one to protect her. Her husband as well as the men of the village were all dead. So Javi insisted on having someone from the fortress that had taken her in act as her defender. Not wanting to engage in open war with the Farsasian troops and waste the lives of his clan, the Ito man had proposed a duel.
The demand was the last straw for the Farsasian side. Many lost their tempers and called the Ito audacious, greedy thieves. To them, the Ito were criminals and in no position to request a fair match. They wanted troops summoned to crush the raiders head-on.
The people of the Ito were not without their own complaints.
When they looted towns, they didn’t kill women or children, and they had their own families to provide for. To them, pillaging was a duty they had to carry out to maintain their clan’s way of life.
However, no matter the Ito’s circumstances, looting and pillaging were acts that Farsas could not allow. There was no way that Farsas would simply nod understandingly and acknowledge the Ito clan’s assertions. That was where the negotiations broke down. It was Oscar who’d quickly put an end to things.
“Before us stands an enemy that has long eluded us. If we can win the duel and get them to do what we say, that’ll speed things up. That means that you are going to be the witness.”
“I—I…,” stammered Elze, so dumbfounded that she was like a hollow doll that couldn’t move. She stood there at a loss for words as uncontrollable emotions crashed over her. Behind her, Carel scowled at Javi with eyes burning with hatred.
Javi looked away from them and pointed to Oscar. “You choose three of your strongest. I’ll do the same. Sound good?”
“No problem here. It’ll be over faster with fewer people. Truthfully, I don’t mind if it’s just you and me.”
“What a stupid brat you are. All you do is mouth off. The people around you must suffer so much.” Javi snorted. The black cat tried to swoop down on him from Oscar’s shoulder, but the king wrapped a hand around its belly to hold it in place. The cat fought him desperately but couldn’t escape his grip.
“If we win, you’re forbidden from any looting and pillaging in Farsas from now on…and you know what will happen if you break your word,” Oscar stated, his voice turning low and threatening all of a sudden. Javi flinched at the decree but concealed the unconscious motion and nodded.
When Javi turned around and gave a signal, two men from the line along the edge stepped forward to fight in the duel. After approving them, he stared at Elze, who was still trembling next to Granfort.
She stared back at him, her beautiful face fraught with fear. It was no different than a year ago. She looked so forlorn and helpless that a gust of wind could blow her away.
That, however, was precisely what instilled such attraction in Javi.
He had met her during a looting where the smell of blood roamed heavy about the air. Shielded by her husband’s back, she’d struggled to hold him up. She was beautiful. Javi was done in at first sight. The fierce glint in her eyes as she’d looked at her husband had completely taken hold of him. He wanted to make her eyes glow that way for him.
Among Javi’s faded memories, only the image of her remained vivid and bright.
He could never forget the look of shock in her eyes as she stared at him over her fallen husband.
He had never felt this much attachment toward another person. But he wanted her badly. He couldn’t give up.
That was why he was here now.
Without taking his eyes off Elze, Javi rubbed his left arm. It had been magically reattached. Getting the limb back in proper working order had required a considerable amount of pain and hard work.
Elze’s eyes widened slightly. Her thin lips trembled.
Scratching his head in annoyance, Oscar walked over to where his team was. “So I’m definitely one of the three. What should we do about the other two…?”
He grabbed the cat by the back of its neck and lifted it up to eye level. “Going by order of strength, this one should be first, but right now she’s just a cat.”
Just then, the cat’s outline rippled. The tiny black kitten turned back into the witch’s original shape in a flash. Oscar’s face darkened as he scolded, “I told you not to change back. Are you asking to get punished?”
“Just because I was a cat, you can’t grab me by the back of the neck. I’ll suffocate!” Tinasha spat.
The others were speechless at the witch’s sudden appearance. No one thought that the king’s short-tempered little kitten was his protector in disguise. Rubbing the back of her neck, Tinasha said offhand, “I’ll go.”
“No,” Oscar refused.
“Let me finish… Of those two he’s going with, the shorter one is probably a mage.”
Oscar eyed the two men standing in the clearing. Both the muscular giant and the short-statured man were carrying swords and didn’t look like mages. If Tinasha said it was so, however, then Oscar believed her.
“Got it. I’ll leave him to you.”
“Understood,” Tinasha replied, already starting to tie up her long hair. Drawing closer to Oscar, she whispered, “Also… Isn’t there something strange about this place? I feel an odd presence.”
“An odd presence… They said it’s a holy place. Could that be it?”
“Mmm… Something about the story of ‘a visit from another god’ is fishy. If it wasn’t some member of Aetea’s lineage, then what did they take for a god?”
“A high-ranking demon maybe? That sort of thing happens a lot.”
“It does, but I think it’s something more…” Tinasha trailed off. The witch racked her brain, trying to figure out what it was that nagged at her. She shot a glance at Oscar with her dark eyes. “Maybe I should transport everyone to a different location? Like the castle training grounds or something.”
“That would certainly be interesting, but I don’t think they’d go for it. We just have to make our win quick,” Oscar said, patting her head.
That was when a young man ran up to him. “Your Majesty! Please choose me!”
The appeal came from a rather desperate-looking Carel. Oscar gazed into his eyes, which swirled with resentment. “Why?” asked the king.
“They’re the ones who attacked my village. They killed my father.”
Tinasha frowned. Oscar took that in, then returned his gaze to the soldier.
“What’s your name?”
“Carel, Your Majesty.”
“Got it. You’re in,” Oscar decided, and joy bloomed on Carel’s face.
Now I can defeat my enemies, the young man thought. He looked over at Elze, but she was still deathly pale and staring at Javi.
The first fight of the duel was between Carel and Joaquin, the enormous Ito man. The spectators held their breath as the two men drew their swords and faced off. Carel had the slenderer physique by a long shot. Against a person as large as Joaquin, it looked like a child was battling an adult.
Joaquin looked down on his opponent and sneered. “You’re a survivor from your village? You should have stayed hidden.”
“Shut up, you savage!” cried Carel, readying his sword. It was obvious to all that he exuded inexperience.
The match seemed decided before it had even started. Javi, however, frowned at Carel. “That sword… Why does he have it?”
Carel’s weapon was the spitting image of a blade passed down from leader to leader in the Ito clan since ancient times. Javi was certain the real sword had been shattered in a battle during the previous clan leader’s time.
Javi found it suspicious. Then he recalled something from his childhood.
Deep in a sacred place, there was a story carved into the wall next to a mural—
“And start!” called out a voice, signaling the beginning of the match.
Carel swung his sword in a huge arc before running straight at Joaquin. He brought a blow down on his opponent with all his might. Joaquin deflected it with a smile, however. Carel slashed over and over at the giant man, but none of the swings ever made contact. Even so, Carel kept attacking head-on.
After a while of batting slashes away, Joaquin’s lips curved up and he struck down powerfully from above.
Unable to withstand the force of the strike, Carel was sent sprawling. The Ito guffawed as if they were watching an entertaining spectacle.
“Dammit…,” Carel muttered, face flushing with shame. He wasn’t even allowed a chance to get back on his feet, however. Joaquin brought his sword down to crush the young man. Still seated, Carel scrambled back. The desperate maneuver had afforded him safety, but it didn’t look like he’d be able to avoid a third attack.
Carel’s eyes shut in anticipation of death. No impact came, though, no matter how long he waited. He opened his eyes a fraction. “What…?”
There was a slender sword standing right before his eyes. Joaquin’s sword had been deflected by one much thinner and was now embedded in the ground. A small pair of feet crunched on the sand next to Carel, who was still in shock.
“The match goes on. I’m up next,” said the witch in a voice as cold as ice. Her long ebony hair was bound up tight.
“You’re sending out a woman? Farsas must be running out of capable people,” sneered Javi.
“She’s actually too capable, if you can believe it,” Oscar retorted flippantly.
All eyes were on Tinasha, who casually readied her sword. Her formfitting mage’s costume threw her slim and elegant figure into sharp relief. The second man to fight, Inigo, grinned at her lasciviously as he gave her body a long, slow once-over. He pulled out a curved sword and faced her. “You’re a fine woman, though a bit too skinny. Maybe I’ll skin you.”
“You’re certainly welcome to try,” Tinasha invited, flashing him a cruel smile. When the start signal came, she leaped off the ground. Her strike wasn’t powerful, but it came down with fearsome speed. Reflexively, Inigo held up his sword to block it. The witch’s weapon worked so fast that the Ito man’s head was liable to go flying off his shoulders if he lost focus for even a moment. He reassessed his initial contempt of the woman.
In a cold sweat, Inigo blocked three more attacks, then poured his strength into launching one big blow. Tinasha dodged it and jumped back. After waiting for the right timing, Inigo aimed his sword point right for her. He cast a spell, pouring magic into it.
He brought forth an invisible rope and sent the tip flying toward Tinasha’s thin frame. Conjured cord twined around her, binding her instantaneously.
Her arms were lifted up, and with her wrists bound, she dropped her sword. The Farsasian side broke into a commotion when they saw that.
On the other side, crude grins spread across the faces of the Ito clansmen, who were well aware of Inigo’s power.
Not many mages used swords. Few would’ve guessed that Inigo could use magic, especially after taking his rustic dress into account. Inigo had used that misconception to take advantage of scores of people in the past, toying with them before killing them. Inigo had savored every petrified look when his victims realized they’d been immobilized.
Inigo approached Tinasha and placed the point of his sword right between her collarbones. She met his gaze evenly, not appearing frightened at all.
“No one said we couldn’t use magic, did they?” he snickered, sure of his victory. He moved to slit her costume open with his blade.
Before he could, his sword shattered apart with a ringing noise.
Inigo’s jaw dropped as he stared at the sparkling fragments lying on the ground. It didn’t feel real, and he didn’t quite register the evident danger he was in. He looked up to find his opponent floating in the air with a merciless smile on her lips. In a lilting voice, she said, “You’re right. No one said we couldn’t use magic.”
Her ivory hands closed around his neck. Then the clearing echoed with the sounds of his screams.
“So that puts us at a draw,” Oscar said matter-of-factly, eyeing Tinasha after she came back from her fight.
Javi looked stunned. “What did you do to Inigo…? What is that woman?”
“A mage got done in by magic. I don’t think I did anything unusual,” Tinasha answered. She returned to Oscar’s side and undid her hair. “Okay, now let’s go home. Right away. As soon as possible.”
“What’s got you so spooked…? Well, go on, then, Tinasha,” he said. She caught his meaning and floated up to dab her blood behind his ears. That would allow a sword to get past his barrier, though not magic. Javi couldn’t cast spells, though, so that was enough.
As she was checking the spell, Oscar caught sight of her white earlobe and suddenly drew close and nibbled on it.
“Hyaugh!” she cried in a strange voice, blushing and jumping back. If she were still in cat form, the fur on her back would’ve been standing on end.
She pressed her hands to her ears, while Oscar tossed her an evil grin. “That’s for not doing what you’re told. Stupid cat.”
“Ugh! Why…?” Tinasha muttered reproachfully. Leaving her there, Oscar walked into the clearing, Javi following after him.
The air around them was tense. A dry breeze blew between the rock pillars.
Once he reached the center of the clearing, Oscar turned to look at Elze. He stared at her, something significant in his gaze. “What do you want me to do? Shall I kill him?”
Faced with this sudden question, Elze’s eyes widened and she gaped back at him.
She couldn’t think. No answer rose from her heart. Her breath came in faint gasps as she stammered, “Th-that man killed my husband…”
“I know. But that’s not what you want, is it?”
“Wh-what I want…”
All Elze had to go on were the facts of what had happened. She was born and raised in a completely normal environment. She’d gotten married as her parents had wished. What she wanted had never mattered. Elze had never been aware of a want or a desire of her own. She avoided what one should and never did anything improper. She had lived a very ordinary, stagnant life.
It was unthinkable for her to feel attracted to a man who was an enemy.
Standing next to the king, Javi’s deep green eyes bored right into Elze. She stiffened beneath the weight of his gaze.
She couldn’t answer, and Oscar eventually looked away to focus on his duel against Javi. He threw a sidelong look at the spectators and saw that Tinasha—perhaps doing what she’d been told—had changed back into a cat and was perched on top of a small rock pillar with her paws and tail tucked under her body. She looked extremely serious, which made Oscar snort as he pulled out Akashia.
“Hurry and come at me already. If I don’t get back soon, I’ll have a mountain of work,” Oscar taunted.
“Little brat… You better be ready,” Javi spat. He drew out a long broadsword. It was crafted to prioritize weight over sharpness and had the ability to smash apart an opponent along with their sword when he struck at full strength. Anyone who’d ever faced Javi knew to fear that weapon, but Oscar didn’t appear bothered in the slightest. Javi licked his lips and settled himself into position.
The start signal came.
As it did, Javi charged straight ahead. Immediately, he swung at Oscar.
His sword’s powerful slash was surely lethal for anyone on the receiving end, whether they parried it or not. Oscar leaped back to avoid it.
Javi struck back swiftly with his heavy weapon, closing the distance between them with a sideways swipe. Oscar dodged the second attack. When Javi’s next blow came, Oscar fended it off with the edge of Akashia. He then used his left hand to catch hold of Javi’s right arm.
“What?!”
Oscar ignored Javi’s cry. With incredible speed, Oscar drew back his own blade.
Formidable strength brought Akashia whistling forward, and the sword severed Javi’s arm just above the elbow.
The limb hit the ground with a dull thump. Soon after, a bestial scream ripped through the clearing.
Javi fell to his knees in pain, but he still reached out with his left hand for his fallen sword.
Before his fingers could touch the blade, however, Akashia was at his throat. A calm voice called to the Ito leader. “Looks like it’s my victory. I’ll make sure you honor our agreement.”
A cheer rose up from the Farsasian side. The Ito were breathless with astonishment.
Biting his lip, Javi glared at his right hand and his sword.
Elze nearly fainted as the match came to a close, but Granfort supported her.
Amid all the wild enthusiasm, her body felt strangely cold. Color faded from the world.
The only parts of the scene that seemed alive were the man groveling on the ground without his arm and the red of his blood.
She couldn’t hear anything.
She couldn’t say anything.
His green eyes took hold of her. His mouth formed the shape of her name.
The world lurched. Elze slumped over.
The next thing she knew, she was on her knees in the pool of blood, reaching out for his face.
“D… Don’t die…”
That was all she was finally able to say.
Javi’s emerald eyes were so much more brilliant than they’d been in her dreams.
Oscar exhaled and sheathed Akashia. He then went over to the black cat and placed it on his shoulder.
He turned back to gaze at the man and woman in the center of the clearing. The dazed woman was trying desperately to stanch the bleeding from the man’s arm.
Both sides watched in silence as the bizarre scene played out.
Oscar snorted in disgust and spoke to the cat on his shoulder. “Tinasha, can you reattach his arm?”
“I refuse.”
“I suppose you would, but stop the bleeding, at least.”
The witch wanted to tut at him in annoyance. Oscar had never intended to have her reattach the man’s arm in the first place. He’d just made an unacceptable request first, so that she’d agree to something less drastic afterward.
Tinasha wanted to protest, but in the end, she bit her tongue and cast a spell to stop Javi’s bleeding.
“What do you want to do about her? If you want to retrieve her, I will,” Tinasha said.
“She can decide for herself. If she’s been dreaming about him, let her face him herself,” the king replied, and the cat stared up at him.
That was when her dark eyes grew huge.
The wind died down flat and the atmosphere suddenly changed.
Sensing something abnormal, Oscar shouted, “Get away from there!” to the two people in the middle of the plateau.
“What?” Javi asked. He was the only one to react to Oscar’s warning. Elze wasn’t moving; her hands seemed affixed to the puddle of blood. She was looking down and away. Concerned, Javi put his left hand on her.
“Hey, what’s wr—?”
Something invisible repelled his hand.
The wind whipped back up again, swirling into a vortex with Elze at the eye. The maelstrom quickly grew faster and faster, throwing the people in the clearing into chaos. Oscar shouted at everyone, “Get down from here! You’ll get drawn into it!”
“Your order doesn’t decide anyth—!” shouted back an Ito member, whose words were cut off as the high winds pulled him off his feet. With a scream, he was swept out between a gap in the outcroppings and fell to the ground below. This shocked the other Ito clansmen into action.
“R-run!” someone cried, and panic rippled out among them. People crashed into one another as they hurried to escape. Cries of those being trampled could be heard.
Oscar kept a hand on the cat. The poor thing looked like it was going to be sucked up in the vortex.
“Tinasha, are you all right? What’s going on?”
“I’ll…teleport them…,” croaked a hoarse feline voice as a transportation array engulfed all of the Farsasian citizens in the clearing. Granfort and Carel disappeared with surprised looks on their faces, but Elze remained at the center of the whirling winds. She was stock-still in the pool of blood. Suddenly, from a corner of the clearing, Inigo shrieked and squirmed away.
Cracks opened up in the earth of the clearing. Immediately, they widened and the red bedrock inside fizzled into sand and started to crumble away, joining the windstorm.
“Not good… Tinasha, you okay?” Oscar asked again.
At this rate, the entire clearing was going to cave in. Oscar looked up at the cat on his shoulder.
Now the cat was breathing raggedly. Its tiny body was shivering, and its black gaze couldn’t stay steady. The witch was in a bad way, and a scowl crossed Oscar’s handsome face. He heard Tinasha’s feeble voice plead, “Oscar… You must…stop it…”
The king of Farsas saw that a white mist was seeping up from the fissure closest to the center. It was heading toward him, and he used Akashia to clear it away. The mist vanished when it touched the sword, but fresh vapor streamed up in an endless supply. The huge chasm in the middle was widening little by little, and some sort of particularly thick mass was crawling up from it. It looked distinctively human as it tried to stand up from within the deep crevice.
“What the hell is that…?”
The white mass reached its handlike appendages up to the sky. As it pulled itself free, it began to float into the air.
Something like that couldn’t be allowed to run free.
Oscar recognized that much intuitively, but there was little he could do in the face of such mighty wind. As a stream of sand reached his feet, Oscar brandished Akashia before the white creature.
Then he threw the royal sword into the air. It soared through the eddying gale and pierced the white thing. The strange creature’s body immediately dispersed.
Unfortunately, an even larger fissure cracked open the clearing. With a violent lurch, the cat fell from Oscar’s shoulder into the gigantic aperture.
“Tinasha!” Oscar shouted, reaching for her. He missed but dived in after her without a moment’s hesitation.
The king and the witch were swallowed up by the holy ground.
They tumbled into a pitch-black opening in the rock.
Before Oscar could worry about where they would land, the crevice opened up into a wide space filled with dim white light. He and Tinasha were falling toward a body of water. Oscar finally managed to catch hold of the black cat in midair, taking it into his arms.
Immediately after, the pair plunged into the water with an enormous splash.
Oscar broke the surface right away, boosting the cat up onto his shoulder. The cat had stiffened, its black eyes huge.
“Are you unharmed?” Oscar asked with urgency.
“Yu—”
“Yu?”
“Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck! I hate water! I hate being wet!”
“Whoa, what’s wrong? Calm down,” Oscar insisted, but even as he spoke, the sopping wet cat was in chaos, attempting to clamber up from the water to his head. It dug its claws into his back in its panic, and Oscar patted the little animal. “I understand. You can change back into a human, so calm down. We’ve got to swim for a bit—don’t fall in.”
The pair were in a faintly lit, gigantic cave with walls of rock. It was much bigger than the underground cave Tinasha had taken him to on his birthday, though not as deep. It was more of a spring than a lake. Oscar was uninjured due in large part to his protective barrier. The considerable impact against the water would have undoubtedly broken something otherwise. It may have just been a spring that formed when underground water pooled, but to the wet cat, it was a full-scale calamity.
What Oscar said must have brought Tinasha back to her senses and calmed her a little, because she transformed back into her original shape. The shift hadn’t freed her of a cat’s fear of water, however, and she clung tearfully to Oscar’s neck while he swam.
“I—I got soaked… My fur got so wet…”
“You can swim. What’s gotten into you? I can’t see where I’m going; move your arm out of the way.”
“Cats hate getting wet! What is this awful place?”