Unnamed Memory, Vol. 6: Death of the Nameless Story

 4. At the End of a Memory
Tinasha was not a child for very long. Her position and the tumultuousness of the era did not permit it.
She couldn’t rely on anyone or trust them. All around the young queen enthroned under extraordinary circumstances were people who either feared her or wanted her removed.
Her only supporters were the twelve mystical spirits she had inherited. They were the only ones she could trust, and they became like friends and family to her.
“I’m exhausted.” The girl sighed, lying facedown on her huge bed.
Only a few months had passed since her coronation, and fourteen-year-old Tinasha buried her face in her pillow and sucked in a deep breath. The spirit Senn, there as her bodyguard, said to her, “You should sleep. You can’t keep going like this.”
“I’m fine. I won’t stay up much longer. Kill any assassins that come while I’m sleeping, okay?”
“No matter who it is?”
“No matter who,” she replied flatly. When Senn didn’t answer, tears welled in her dark eyes. She mumbled into her pillow, “I mean…if I’m ever indulgent with anyone… Well, that’s exactly the type of person that they’ll try to use to kill me. I have to treat them all the same. That way, only those willing to fight me will come.”
She was undoubtedly thinking of how, just the other day, a lady-in-waiting around the queen’s age had attempted regicide. If she showed any weakness, her political opponents would take advantage of it. Blood did not determine who inherited the throne of Tuldarr. Eliminating Tinasha meant someone else could take her place.
Senn opened his mouth, but mostly repeated what he’d said earlier. “You should sleep. You’ll sit on the throne until you’re an old woman. That’s probably going to feel like a long time to you.”
“Not that long, I bet,” she muttered. She would probably die before that. No matter how idealistic or powerful anyone was, they would not last long in times like these. People were always tricking and stabbing one another in the back. All wished for it to end, but none could find a way out. That was true for the entire mainland.
Thus, even if Tinasha triumphed and survived, she wanted to relinquish her status before turning gray. Decades of using her extraordinary power to intimidate everyone into submission might very well drive her insane. Even if she retained her wits, her subjects would suffer if her ways of thinking grew old-fashioned and she began to pursue peace and quiet for herself. So, at most, she had another twenty years of this left.
Ruminating on how that was a very long time indeed, Tinasha glanced up. “If you want me to fall asleep, talk to me.”
“Talk to you? Shall I report on something?”
“No, just talk. Tell me about you. What was it like when you manifested before? When you made the contract with the first king?”
Her request came out of nowhere, and Senn looked bewildered. However, when he saw the hopeful curiosity in Tinasha’s eyes, he gave a rueful smile. The spirit leaned against the wall to indulge his master’s very age-appropriate curiosity. “When I manifested back then, I had quite a bit of freedom.”
“You have freedom now, too, Senn.”
“Maybe,” the man with bluish-white hair said with a dry laugh. His voice was tinged with the slightest hint of yearning. “Just as you can never forget the man who saved you…I met a very strange woman once, too, a long time ago.”
The girl rested her elbows on the bed, staring at Senn. It was rare for him to talk about himself. Out of all the twelve spirits, he was the most unemotional.
“She was free-spirited, capricious, and affectionate. She would wander off only to come back, repeating the process each time I appeared in this realm.”
“Was she…a demon?”
It would be impossible for someone with the life span of an ordinary human to come and see him each time he, a royal spirit, manifested upon the coronation of a new ruler.
Senn only smiled and did not answer. Pushing himself off the wall, he came over to the bed and placed a blanket over his master’s lithe frame. Tinasha noticed for the first time that he wore a ring.
Senn’s ruby eyes went half-lidded in a very human gesture of sympathy. “If you ever grow tired of it all, you should visit her. She’s a troublemaker, but…I know she’d make a good friend for you.”
He stroked Tinasha’s hair and, for the third time, said, “Sleep.”
The girl nodded and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, her heart feeling somewhat lighter.
They were the only family she would trust. But they also belonged to…the ruler.
A ruler was a symbol of strength and the greatest cog in the machine that kept the citizens alive and the country running.
Regents did not need emotions or individuality.
Relying on another was a weakness. Trust meant a gap in her defenses. That was why she didn’t mind being alone, as long as she had enough strength to do so.
For the next five years of Tinasha’s rule she maintained that ideology—treading on thin ice all the while.
She never wavered, and displayed no weakness.
As ruler, she would use her devastating power to secure victory with all the pride of a queen.
That was, after all, the last promise she made to him.

A flicker of emotion showed in Tinasha’s dark eyes as she gazed down at the miniature garden. Next to her, Legis noticed it and glanced at her. Without making the slightest movement, Tinasha said to the two spirits on her other side, “I’ve gotten sloppy lately.”
“Yes, especially since your engagement, but you’ve been like this ever since you arrived in this time period, you know. I thought you were just exhausted,” Mila remarked.
“Thank you for that tart answer. It’s quite refreshing,” said Tinasha, though a smile didn’t bloom on her face like it normally did. Feeling as though something were slightly off, Legis stared at her.
Karr, the other spirit, piped up. “But you never used to be super vigilant when you were younger anyway, little girl. You were so obedient and sweet that I was actually a little worried.”
“What? You were? That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” the queen replied.
“Well, it’s the first time I’m telling you. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing, either. You’re only human. After becoming queen, you did everything so perfectly and carefully that it had me a bit concerned.”
“A queen can’t very well act like she’s still a child,” Tinasha remarked, nodding as if the conversation wasn’t about her. “In any case, dealing with this person I’m up against feels like he’s able to read my thoughts. As if that isn’t impolite enough, he even seems to know my private personal details. I don’t want him poking his nose in there.”
Valt was clearly one step ahead of Tinasha. Since their first meeting, she had gotten the strangest sense that he could read her like a book. How was he able to look past the facade of Queen Tinasha of Tuldarr? Valt understood Tinasha’s love for Oscar and what she would do to be useful to the king, using that information to trap her.
It was how he’d kidnapped her—he’d seized a chance after the battle with Simila. Likewise, he’d taken advantage of that same understanding of Tinasha to steal the Eleterria orb. Zefiria’s feelings for Oscar kept him from harm, but things could have easily escalated and resulted in his death.
Tinasha would not let Valt get away with it anymore.
Before she was a private citizen, she was a queen.
She could discard her emotions any way she pleased. She could forget them.
Only those capable of that could sit on the throne.
A ruler required a mind. Not a heart.
“I’m going to switch to another mentality.”
Now she wore another face, one she had never shown in this era. Surely Valt wouldn’t recognize it.
She turned a cold gaze upon the miniature garden. The light faded from her eyes. This all-powerful mage made soft a declaration of war.
“I hereby accept his challenge and will show him a side of me he does not know.”
There came a change like drawing the curtains on a window. Something had altered, something small yet fundamentally different.
The air in the room shifted.
With heads lowered, the two spirits flanking Tinasha spoke together. “We are yours to command, my queen.”
Tinasha gave a haughty nod. Threatening waves emanated from her, making all in the room frightened to so much as breathe. Legis had gone rigid all over. Tinasha pointed to a series of settlements in Tuldarr. “These three villages first, and these two places. Make arrangements.”
“Yes…Your Majesty,” he replied.
“Also, bring me all the materials you have pertaining to Magdalsia. I’ll read them by tonight.”
“I shall,” Legis said with a bow. He paid careful attention to her many orders, never lifting his head. The intimidating air Tinasha emanated made him hesitant to do so. He merely listened as she gave instructions in a dispassionate tone of voice.
Tinasha had behaved coolly before, but she always retained a sense of amiable self-deprecation.
Not this time. None of that was present now. This was likely her true persona.
History spoke of her as a fierce queen who did not hesitate to execute anyone, and who never feared dirtying her own hands. A shiver ran through Legis as he beheld the truth of it.

Lying on her bed, she closed her eyes. Alone in the dark, Tinasha began to sort through all the knowledge she had accumulated. She also considered the wards and surveillance spells she had set up all over, drawing new information from them.
Before entering her magic sleep four hundred years ago, she would end each day reviewing her plan and what she needed to do. She also wrote down part of that in a diary. What to prioritize, what to discard. What verdict to give, what to rescue.
Those on the throne faced these choices constantly. There could be no personal feelings involved, nor sense of self.
Tinasha expanded her consciousness. Her mind emptied. She tidied up and categorized all the disparate fragments. While multiple thoughts ran concurrently, she took a step back and observed the mental jumble with the benefit of perspective.
I still don’t know where Senn is.
Her heart ached to acknowledge it. Each of her twelve spirits was irreplaceable.
She had confidants and supporters during the Dark Age, but none who could be counted as close friends. And for every supporter, there had been an opponent.
In this era with Oscar, Tinasha knew neither allies nor enemies. Perhaps it was only natural that she’d grown a bit soft. It didn’t offend her to be told that; it was true.
Perhaps the time since waking in the modern day had merely been an extended vacation—a nice bit of fun for one who had been running her whole life.
And now it was coming to an end. Tinasha would set aside her own personal happiness and stride forward.
No one needed a rusted, inoperative cog.
“Ah!”
All of a sudden, Tinasha sensed someone nearby and instinctively cast a spell, leaping to her feet on the bed. Before she could launch the magic from her right hand, she caught a glimpse of a very surprised-looking man just ahead.
“Hey, you scared me,” he said.
“Oscar! I was lost in thought and didn’t realize it was you. Sorry,” Tinasha replied, dismissing her spell.
Oscar was mid-lunge to evade the attack; it would have been a good fight. He sat on the edge of the bed and threw Tinasha a baffled glance once he got a closer look at her. “Your forehead’s all scrunched up. What were you thinking so hard about?”
“All sorts of things,” she answered with a tight smile. Standing, she went to grab a bottle of liqueur, and a book on the table caught her eye. “Oscar, do you know the story of the Mirror of Oblivion?”
“The Mirror of Oblivion? Sure. The fairy tale, right? The one in the book I got for the castle library.”
Once upon a time, there lived a princess in a small country. She grew up happy and beloved by all, but one day the king and queen were attacked by bandits while outside the castle and perished. The princess fell into despair and refused to leave her room for a year, no matter how her royal attendants cajoled her.
But then a traveling mage heard of her plight and sent her an old looking glass, a mirror said to absorb all sadness. When she peered into it, she stopped crying and left her room to be among her people again.
Such was the ancient fable recounted since the dawn of the Dark Age.
“The story of the Mirror of Oblivion is told all over our land,” said Tinasha, “but it changes a little in each region. In some versions, it isn’t sadness the mirror takes, but memories. Others have it that the mirror steals the minds of those who refuse to believe in its power, and sends them into comas.”
“Huh. That’s interesting.”
“About a hundred years ago, a researcher in Tuldarr looked into it and published a paper. According to the report, every nation has the odd account of someone who encountered the mirror. Following that trail leads us to the last place it was sighted…Magdalsia.” Tinasha handed Oscar a glass.
He looked faintly shocked. “Do you think the fairy tale has some connection to the witch in Magdalsia?”
“It’s one possibility of many. However, if the Witch of the Forbidden Forest wanted to steal a country, why would she appear after the king fell into a coma? It would be easier for someone with her power to use psychological manipulation, rather than incapacitate a ruler. The incapacitated king is why Tuldarr learned of the situation, after all.”
“So you believe the witch appeared because the king fell unconscious?”
“That’s what I suspect. I’m going through any fishy-sounding stories with a fine-tooth comb to try and discover what brought on the king’s mystery coma and why it summoned a witch. The Mirror of Oblivion is one compelling candidate,” Tinasha explained, climbing onto the bed, sprawling out on her back, and throwing an arm over her eyes.
It looked like she wanted the conversation to end there. Sensing something different about her in that moment, Oscar set down his glass. “Tinasha?”
Five days had passed since one orb of Eleterria was stolen from Farsas. Ever since, Oscar had noticed a slight change in Tinasha’s behavior. It was as though her mind were constantly working while her emotions had been set aside. There was a noticeable sharpness to her as well, like all her edges were honed.
Called back to herself, Tinasha asked, “Hmm? What is it?”
“Nothing. Are you upset?”
“I’m not upset,” she chirped, smiling at Oscar. But her arm remained thrown across her eyes. She wouldn’t look at him—as if she had no need to. It was certainly different from anger. Oscar could sense how terribly far away her heart was, and he found himself at a loss for words.
This was the woman he was supposed to marry in three weeks, yet it was the first time he’d seen this side of her.
They still met every day as usual, but recently, Oscar had noticed that something felt slightly off, accompanied by a mysterious sense of déjà vu. Thus, he made sure to ask Tinasha about it to check on her, and sure enough, something really had changed.
What was to blame for this shift? Oscar reached out and touched Tinasha’s face. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” she replied, dropping her arm and revealing her dark, cold eyes. Tinasha sat up and looped her arms around her knees. “I think I’m going to visit Magdalsia to investigate after all.”
“You’re what?”
“I’ll go undercover, gather what info I can, and then take out the witch, if necessary,” she stated. Her matter-of-fact demeanor stunned Oscar.
He recovered swiftly, however. “Absolutely not. Do you realize that your abdication and our wedding are just around the corner? Why go stirring up trouble?”
“I am the only person who can battle the Witch of the Forbidden Forest,” Tinasha answered. To Oscar, that felt more scathing than the words alone should have been. He remembered Lavinia’s letter, which rendered him incapable of replying, before Tinasha could continue. “If I let her do as she pleases, things might grow out of control. I will take her down now, before that can happen.”
“But…she still has royal authority in Magdalsia. Considering your position, one wrong move could start a war,” Oscar pointed out.
“So I should just wait for her to attack? If we delay, we’ll only end up suffering greater damage, and there’s no telling how she’ll outsmart us.”
“But that’s—”
In a sense, Tinasha was correct. Responding now was the right move to secure peace in Tuldarr. However, it was also a clear act of war. Such a preemptive strike from a powerful mage had not been seen in hundreds of years. Should the truth of it come to light, the ramifications would shake the mainland to its core. It was akin to…
“You’re going against the times,” Oscar observed. A while back, Druza had attacked Farsas with a forbidden curse, and Tinasha had aided in repelling it. In the aftermath, the major powers signed a treaty banning the use of forbidden curses in war. Should Tinasha go rogue here, that treaty might turn into mere lip service.
In reply, Tinasha gave a beautiful smile and a confident answer. “That will get sorted out one way or another.”
Implicit in what she said was enough power to make anyone who heard her tremble.
This woman sat on the throne four centuries ago; that was who she was. At her center, she was a Dark Age queen.
Oscar hadn’t forgotten it, but ultimately, he hadn’t known what that truly meant. During that period, everyone had to fight and backstab one another—life itself was not guaranteed. To protect her country, Tinasha had vanquished a witch. And now, she was attempting to do it again.
Yet while she’d survived then, she could easily lose this fight.
Oscar grabbed her arm. “Don’t go.”
“You don’t have the authority to stop me,” she replied, echoing something Oscar had said to her once. But it felt different coming from her.
For a moment, Oscar wavered between warning her as one ruler to another or stopping the woman as her fiancé. No matter which he chose, the answer was the same. “I am going to be your husband.”
“You are. And I will become Farsas’s queen consort. I have that position to keep in mind,” Tinasha said, giving the answer of a sovereign queen. Her black eyes glanced down at Oscar’s grip on her arm. “But we aren’t married yet, and you are a member of a foreign nation.”
“Tinasha…”
Having her point it out made all the blood rush to his head, but it was unquestionably true. Oscar knew very well that they ruled different countries, although they had come far by supporting each other. So then why was she rejecting him now?
“Do you not want to live in this era?” he muttered. Hadn’t Tinasha traveled forward four hundred years in time to be with him?
Her black eyes widened a fraction. There was a tranquil glow to them. “This time period is the reason we’re not enemies.”
Was that a form of hope in her eyes?
Oscar recalled how Tinasha had abdicated during the Dark Age. After defeating a witch and triumphing over Tayiri, rumors began circulating in Tuldarr that someone who could kill a witch might be a witch herself. Amid that tumult, Tinasha was forced to relinquish her position.
And she was even stronger now than she was then.
Oscar stared at her, this person he once thought he knew extremely well. Perhaps the best solution would be for her to lose her chastity and a fraction of her power with it. Tinasha carried too much individual might and too strong a desire to head into battle. It was dangerous to leave her unattended. One misstep could spell catastrophe for the mainland.
However, that was not an option the man who loved Tinasha could suggest.
As Oscar fell silent, still clinging to her arm, Tinasha gave him an innocent smile. “What’s wrong? If you’re thinking of reducing my magic, go ahead. I’ll win, even if I lose some of my ability to use spiritual magic. Or are you thinking of restraining me in a more direct manner?”
Beneath that grin lay a hostility that made it plain she wouldn’t balk at making an enemy of him.
She was so far away, distant enough to be unreachable.
How could she have changed this much?
Oscar was stunned, and he released Tinasha’s arm without realizing it. “I don’t…know what you’re thinking.”
“The same as ever. This is who I’ve always been,” she stated as she reached up and looped her arms around Oscar’s neck, snuggling in and holding him tight.
Her warmth was no different, but her mind couldn’t have been further away.
Closing his eyes against a significant rush of sentimentality, Oscar realized where that odd sense of familiarity had come from.
This was the same person he caught a glimpse of in Tinasha’s diaries from four hundred years ago.

Piled haphazardly on the floor of the study were stacks of papers penned by the past sixty-seven generations of so-called heirs to the family. All of them had written so much—no, some refused and fled. One such example was his own father, who hanged himself.
“Valt, did you scribe any of these?” Miralys asked.
“Plenty. Whenever I had something I wanted recorded for the next time.”
Miralys frowned, holding a broom in her hand. As her eyes turned anxious, Valt immediately gave her a reassuring smile. “There’s no need for you to make that face. The people who wrote these did so because they wanted to. What they recorded would disappear with a rewinding of time. But while all of them could remember every life they experienced, they didn’t know anything beyond that. If they wanted to inform future heirs about what had happened up until that point and what changed when time restarted, writing it down was the only way.”
Some of the past successors had memories from multiple lifetimes, while others didn’t. There had been many types of heirs before Valt. Only a small portion of their number were recorded here.
“Of course, not everyone documented things each time. Some were too worn down by multiple rewritings of history to leave records. To fill in those blanks, others penned what they recalled of records they had read in earlier lives. It really varied,” Valt explained. The sizable archives seemed a representation of a great many people and all the lifetimes they’d experienced.
However, the only thing that mattered was what each one had inside. Valt glanced at the girl next to him. The first time he met her was at the end of a distant memory, one so remote it was aggravating.
In a part of some forest only a few steps from a main road, he saved an injured girl. The Miralys of the present didn’t remember it, but Valt would never truly forget. It was a terribly precious…and very regrettable memory.
Miralys walked over to the stack of papers. “There’s some material on the Witch of the Azure Moon in here, isn’t there?”
“Yes, although she rarely came down from her tower. I know more of her than the records do. Because I knew her when she was his queen—”
Just then, the ceiling of the study shook violently. Miralys screamed, “What’s going on?!”
“Oh no, did she abandon Magdalsia to come here?” Valt moaned.
From the way the mansion was creaking and groaning, it was obvious who had arrived.
“Miralys, over here!” Valt shouted, dashing to a corner of the study and lifting the trapdoor concealed on the floor there. It led to a passage underground, and he stuffed Miralys into it. Despite her shock, she obeyed without a word. Valt had one foot down in the passage when he wove a fire spell and launched it at the archives.
“Valt?!”
“It’s fine. We can’t leave them there.”
Tearing his gaze away from the burning sheaves, Valt hurried down the stairs. As he dashed along the underground passageway that led off the property, he muttered, “Why is she doing this when she should be incredibly busy? In a sense, she’s more trouble than when she was his queen.”
Across countless lifetimes, Tinasha had been a witch and queen consort at once. Valt knew. Having lived for eons, she held herself apart from the world. She was a fiercely compassionate, kindhearted loner who liked people but kept her distance.
The current Tinasha was similar to all of that, yet atypical. The king of Farsas drew out her girlish side remarkably, though in the past several days, she’d been acting more merciless than when she was a witch. Perhaps because her mind was still young, she was highly aggressive and decisive. That was how she had conducted herself as a sovereign during the Dark Age—a side of her Valt was ignorant of.
“This was in the records from four hundred years ago, but I certainly never expected the change to be this drastic,” Valt said quietly. Cold sweat formed on his nape as he hurried down the passageway that stretched into the dark.
That was when he heard the roar of a cave-in behind him.
Focusing on what needs to be done could avert sadness.
Tinasha had learned that form of mental control when she was queen many years ago.
Therefore, she was not sad. She’d never had anything to be sad about.
“If they thought I’d focus all my attention on Magdalsia and take no action, they’re sorely mistaken,” the queen stated coldly, her face an emotionless mask.
Next to her, Mila asked, “Are you sure about this, Lady Tinasha?”
“Sure about what?”
“You’re fighting with the Akashia swordsman,” the spirit remarked while floating next to Tinasha in the sky.
For a moment, Tinasha gaped at Mila. Then she burst out laughing. “We’re not fighting. We just had a disagreement.”
“But you’re about to get married. What if he’s tired of you now?”
“Hmm. Well, I can’t do anything about that if it happens,” Tinasha replied indifferently.
Mila’s eyes grew wide. “You’re really okay with it?”
“I can’t change how he feels, and I have something I need to do. Even if I don’t become his queen, I can still be by his side in other ways. Farsas would approve of something like that more readily anyhow.”
“Something like what?”
Tinasha only grimaced. Then an intricate spell configuration formed between her hands. From the air, the queen peered down at the mansion below. Located on the outskirts of a rural town in Tayiri, the holiday villa had belonged to some noble or other for five years. That was the cover story, anyway. However, several days of monitoring a magical surveillance network that spanned the mainland had revealed the truth.
Tinasha snapped her fingers. “I finally got a bite on one of my lines, but it took up a good chunk of time. Still, now I have some hope of winning.” She signaled Mila with a look, and the spirit nodded. “Let’s go. After this, I have to appear at the Gandona ball.”
The queen snapped again. With that cue, her spell became a gigantic cage and sank onto the mansion below. It would prevent teleportation and crush anything within.
Unfortunately, it was repelled, if only just, by defensive wards laid upon the estate. Mila whistled. “Wow! That’s a pretty ironclad barrier.”
“Looks like we’ll have to force our way in,” Tinasha said dismissively, lifting her right hand. Then she swung it straight down. A huge hammer made of magic smashed a hole in the villa’s roof with a loud bang. With the core of the wards destroyed, the barrier dispersed.
Tinasha and Mila descended into the hole. Immediately, Mila frowned. “It’s all smoky. Did something catch on fire?”
“Or someone set one, perhaps as a smoke screen,” Tinasha replied, erecting a defensive barrier around herself and the spirit as she landed inside the mansion. They appeared to be in the living room, although it was difficult to be certain, given all the floating white ash.
As she redirected the airflow in the room, Tinasha glanced around. Smoke was pouring from a spot just beyond a toppled wooden chair. Mila went in first, followed by Tinasha. There she found the source of the blaze.
“Documents?”
Stacks of papers were alight. There were enough sheets for close to one hundred bound volumes. Tinasha picked up a sheaf that was farthest from the conflagration, which had so far been spared the flames. She strained to make out what it said.
“What in the—?”
“I’m sorry, Lady Tinasha. They got away,” Mila reported, popping her head out from a hole in one corner of the room. The underground passage must have taken them outside the ban on teleportation. Tinasha’s attack was meant to catch them off guard, but they’d still proved to be quicker.
However, Tinasha was more concerned with the papers in her hands. As she read, her face screwed up in a dark scowl.

Once a year, the Great Nation of Gandona held a ceremony to commemorate its founding, an event the most influential and powerful individuals of every country attended.
Naturally, Oscar was in attendance at the castle in Gandona. He suppressed a sigh as he donned formal attire in his guest room. He never liked going to state functions, but that was the least of his worries.
His first concern was that Aurelia’s guardian, a revolting demon man, would also be there. The other was that he would see his fiancée.
While Tinasha refused to let him stop her, she ultimately didn’t go to Magdalsia. When he asked if she was holding herself back, she smiled but said nothing. Oscar was puzzled by the distance that had somehow opened up between them, even though they saw each other daily.
He’d even inquired whether she’d had a change of heart about their relationship. With a strained grin, she’d denied it, claiming she didn’t suddenly hate him. However, she did request a hold on wedding planning for the moment, because the near future was too uncertain. From Oscar’s perspective, it was clear that things had shifted around in her list of priorities.
“Why is she so impossible to get a read on?” he muttered, staring at himself in the mirror as he fastened his jacket cuffs. His foul mood was written all over his face, but aside from that, he looked fine. Upon leaving his guest chamber and joining Als, who had been waiting outside, they entered the hall.
First, Oscar greeted the king of Gandona, the man of the hour. After that, he looked around but did not see Tinasha. However, he caught sight of Aurelia and her chaperone on the other side of the hall. The man noticed Oscar’s gaze and gave him a nasty smirk, one entirely unlike the pleasant smiles he’d shown all the young ladies in attendance.
Oscar’s eye twitched. Under his breath, he muttered, “I hate that guy.”
Als evidently caught the remark, for he winced. “It does not appear that Queen Tinasha has arrived.”
“Yeah, she’s been running around like crazy lately,” Oscar replied curtly.
That was when the woman in question made her appearance.
Although her hair was only in a loose updo, and she was dressed in a black gown sporting little ornamentation, she was still beautiful enough to turn heads. Oscar watched from a distance as she greeted the king of Gandona with a diplomatic smile. Behind her trailed a red-haired girl clad in formal attire, marking perhaps the first time a mystical spirit had accompanied Tinasha to an official function. Oscar was surprised.
After Tinasha completed her formal greetings, she let her gaze wander the hall. After marking out where Oscar and Travis were, she wove her way through the crowd and approached the former. He glanced down, partially dismayed. “You’re dressed so plainly. And you’re late, too.”
“I made it just on time. I haven’t eaten anything yet… It hasn’t been my lucky day,” she replied, sighing dispiritedly.
Now she looked like the Tinasha he knew. Oscar laughed and grabbed a plate from a nearby table. “Here, get some sugar.”
“You want me to start with sweets?!” Tinasha cried, but she received the tray obediently enough and partook of the cream-covered pastries. As she devoured them with impeccable manners, she took a step closer to Oscar and whispered, “I found out something kind of dicey. I want to ask Travis about it.”
After a sullen pause, Oscar bit out, “Fine.”
While he certainly wanted to object, he knew that would do no good. It risked worsening his relationship with Tinasha, throwing the situation into chaos. Of course, that might happen after she spoke with Travis anyway, but they could worry about that when it happened.
Once Oscar nodded, Mila brought Travis and Aurelia over. Travis bowed and gave a courteous greeting, which morphed into his usual rough manner of speaking immediately after Tinasha put up a barrier to prevent anyone from hearing their conversation.
“What did you call us over for? What do you need?” he questioned brusquely.
Tinasha finished her second pastry and set her plate down. “I’ll get right to it. Do you have any memories of time repeating?”
Oscar frowned. He knew what she was trying to ask. Tinasha wanted to know if this demon king recalled the world before Eleterria rewrote it.
Aurelia looked confused. Patting her head, Travis scoffed. “Oh, so that’s what this is about. I don’t have any memories, because those orbs are outsiders’ artifacts.”
Tinasha cocked an eyebrow. “Outsiders’ artifacts? What does that mean?”
“What? You mean you don’t know?” Travis said. He glanced at Oscar, who shook his head. Reluctantly, Travis went on. “To put it simply, it’s a general term for items with powers that shouldn’t be possible under the laws of magic. That means they affect me as much as anyone else. There are no exceptions.”
“Really? Sometimes you truly make me wonder. Occasionally, you act like you know the future or you’re aware of what it was before things changed.”
“I don’t know anything. Get off my back,” Travis huffed, waving Tinasha off crossly.
That made Oscar recall something. “Wait. The first time we met, you called me her husband.”
At the time, Oscar and Tinasha hadn’t been engaged—they hadn’t even been romantically involved. Surely that meant Travis knew their prior history, the one where they were married.
The demon king could not mask his annoyance at Oscar’s comment. “You didn’t need to remember that…”
“It was kind of hard to forget.”
“Shall I erase that memory for you?”
Before the two men could engage in pointless bickering, Tinasha intervened. “Travis, answer me honestly. I saw records of a history that doesn’t exist.”
Tinasha’s face had gone pale, and Travis replied irritably, “You saw that? Which part?”
“The part about Cezar. Before history changed, there was no Simila in Cezar. It was a prosperous Great Nation that never attacked Farsas.”
No one said a word.
After thinking it over for a few seconds, Travis patted Aurelia on the shoulder. “You go over there for a while.”
“Oh, but—”
“Go on. And don’t follow any strangers,” he insisted in a tone brooking no refusal. The girl nodded and left the hall, looking over her shoulder repeatedly as she walked away.
Once Aurelia was gone, Travis turned back to Oscar and Tinasha. “First off, I really don’t recall anything. High-ranking demons are not exactly compatible with outsiders’ artifacts, because they operate on all planes of existence. That said, I’ve seen the same records you did—many times. There’s this family of Time-Readers, and they do retain their memories. They have mass archives of various repeated histories that they pass down through generations. The current heir is… You know him, don’t you? A guy named Valt.”
Oscar and Tinasha both inhaled sharply.
The plot against them, the meticulousness of it. Everything traced back to the frightening records and memories their enemy had access to. It was difficult to believe right away, but it was also a truth they had both somehow suspected. They were left stunned.
“Did you only see the records about Cezar?” Travis drawled, sounding bored.
“Yes. All the others were destroyed in a fire,” Tinasha answered.
“Well, I’d call that lucky. It’s best for humans not to see too much of that stuff,” the demon king said.
In a sense, he was probably right. The records spoke of something Tinasha had no memory of—a self that was not herself. Accounts of a vanished world could only be for sentimental purposes. It didn’t seem to Oscar that any good could come from reading them.
Oscar glanced at Tinasha. “Were the papers that escaped the fire Valt’s?”
“Yes. I’ve been tracking his magic for a while and traced him to a mansion in a corner of Tayiri. I attacked it just before coming here. The coward got away by escaping through an underground passage.”
“Bet that shaved a dozen years off his life span.”
While Oscar did believe Tinasha hadn’t gone to Magdalsia, he hadn’t expected her to go after Valt instead. The man did have one half of Eleterria, though, which put him at the top of Tinasha’s priority list.
“Tell me more about these outsiders’ artifacts. What does ‘powers that shouldn’t be possible under the laws of magic’ mean?” Tinasha pressed.
“Why do I have to tell you? Figure it out on your own,” Travis grumbled.
“Valt wants Eleterria!” she cried, and Travis scowled for the first time during their conversation.
He stared searchingly at Oscar, then at Tinasha. With an annoyed click of his tongue, he responded, “Outsiders’ artifacts enable what is impossible according to the laws of magic. That doesn’t mean they operate using undiscovered principles—they defy them. And there’s a few of them around. Most of them are objects with legendary characteristics, like Eleterria.”
“They defy the laws of magic, huh?” Oscar repeated quietly. Tinasha had told him multiple times that it was beyond magic to rewind time. He also knew of something else she had spoken of in the same way. “Does that mean those old ruins full of cocoons were an outsiders’ artifact, too?”
“Huh? Oh, that place that abducts humans and makes copies of them. That’s an interesting one. A long time ago, I saw it swallow up entire villages all at once,” Travis commented.
“If you saw it happen, you should have done something about it!” Tinasha exclaimed, naturally.
“As if I’d care,” Travis sniffed, naturally.
She let out a long, resigned sigh. “Why are they called outsiders’ artifacts, anyway? This is the first time I’ve heard that name.”
“Well, because the existence of such things is a problem in and of itself. Any humans who know about them would have a hard time going public with that knowledge. They were all brought in from beyond our world,” Travis said blandly.
His explanation didn’t surprise Oscar, because he’d suspected the same thing himself and had asked Tinasha about it once. Undoubtedly, she remembered that conversation, too, because she only seemed a little rattled as she asked, “So there really is something outside of our world?”
“Why did you think there wouldn’t be? You mortals can barely even recognize that there are different planes of existence, but you acknowledge that they’re real because we demons and other negative manifestations exist. So why didn’t an outsiders’ artifact lead you to consider the existence of something foreign to this world?”
“It seemed like a leap too far. We have far more evidence of the different realms and planes of existence,” Tinasha pointed out.
“So rigid in your thinking. Well, you’re free to believe what you like. Go ahead and think that what you know is all that exists, without even considering that there may be those who enjoy watching you from the outside.” Travis smirked, looking as if none of this had anything to do with him.
Perhaps he truly believed himself uninvolved. After all, he had also spent centuries delighted with spectating humans.
Tinasha huffed out a laugh. “So it’s like how characters in a book remain unaware that a person is observing from outside the story? But if all they want to do is watch us, then isn’t rewriting the past overly intrusive?”
“It’s you mortals who make the choice to alter history. Regardless, it’s futile to understand what the outsiders are thinking. I met one of them a long time ago—a completely incomprehensible woman.”
Tinasha hopped forward. “You’ve met one?! That’s not fair! It’s like you know the correct answer already!”
“Oh, hush. It’s you mortals’ own fault for being so out of the loop. Besides, while she was an outsider, she also wasn’t. She chose to be an ally to humans and lived and died among them. This happened long before you were born. That was just one person, and she has nothing to do with the artifacts.”
Oscar frowned. Over the course of simply listening to Travis and Tinasha talk, something had gotten stuck in his mind. Earlier, when Travis had said, “You mean you don’t know?” he’d looked at Oscar, not at Tinasha.
“Wait, was she—?”
Before Oscar could finish his thought, however, a man approached, having slipped briskly through the crowd. He bowed silently before Tinasha, though anxiety was clear on his face. Oscar recognized him as a magistrate of Tuldarr.
“Your Majesty, I have an urgent message,” he said, then glanced at the other two men, unsure if he should go on with them present.
“They are of no concern. Speak,” ordered the queen.
“Yes, Your Majesty. A short while ago, Magdalsia breached the national border and began an invasion. They have about thirty thousand troops and will reach southern Tuldarr in a half hour.”
“What?” Oscar blurted out in his surprise.
But Tinasha only let out a small sigh. Her dark eyes shone with a cold gleam. Rapidly, her entire aura sharpened to a point. “They’ve come a bit earlier than I anticipated. Understood. Give the order to mobilize our troops. I will be there immediately.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” answered the magistrate, who hurried off into the throng the way he’d come.
Tinasha watched him depart and then turned to Oscar. For a second, he saw loneliness in her eyes. Yet all too soon, it was painted over by the falling of a cold night.
The corners of her lips turned up as she smiled. “I will take my leave now. Thank you, Travis.”
“Sure. See you,” he replied.
The black-clad queen made to leave, and, before Oscar could stop her, she disappeared.
Oscar brought a hand to his mouth. Tuldarr was under attack by another country. While Magdalsia was no Great Nation, it had a witch at its helm who was very likely to utilize a forbidden curse in the war or introduce some manner of weapon that was even worse. Given Tinasha’s reaction, she had been aware that Magdalsia was readying itself for battle. Tuldarr’s own army was prepared to march as well. Tinasha hadn’t gone to Magdalsia personally, because she had chosen war with them over conquering the witch.
“Finally, she’s back to her old self. I didn’t know how long she was going to keep acting like some spineless wimp.” Travis sounded deeply amused. Oscar eyed this inhuman creature.
Noticing the gaze, the demon king stared back at Oscar. “What’s with that face? She’s always been like that. She just got soft after coming to this time period. Oh, here’s a fun story. I’ll tell you about the war with Tayiri.”
Travis grinned mockingly. “At the time, the Tayiri army had about…fifty thousand troops, I think. And Tuldarr had less than seven hundred.”
“What? They couldn’t have possibly stood a chance, then.”
“That’s what you’d think, right? But it’s true. Tuldarr was an isolated country, ignorant of the ways of the world. They didn’t have a proper military back then, although once she became queen, things changed. She started training up soldiers little by little and organized the mages for combat, too. Still, she had no end of enemies within the castle. So when Tayiri attacked, she was stuck inside.”
“She couldn’t act?”
“Yep. The Traditionalists opposed war with Tayiri and wanted her to surrender without a fight. They believed Tuldarr couldn’t win.”
“So she couldn’t get to the battlefield…”
In the Dark Age, having many enemies in the castle was a given. Tinasha had also been an extremely young queen. If she left to battle Tayiri, the Traditionalists might have seized their chance to take over the country and declare a surrender. Thus, she stayed put to prevent that, choosing not to yield for the future of mages and Tuldarr.
She was fierce by nature, but that did not mean she preferred eccentric strategies. If at all possible, she would have surely raised an army the size of Tayiri’s and engaged the enemy.
Instead, she cooked up an outlandish plan. Of the two thousand troops in Tuldarr, one thousand were sent to the border to warn Druza and Farsas, while three hundred remained in the castle. She took the remaining seven hundred to confront Tayiri.
It was on a stormy day that Tayiri discovered Tuldarr’s army numbered only a few hundred and set out to slaughter them. However, Tuldarr’s military fled without a fight once they spotted the Tayiri soldiers. Following in pursuit, the Tayiri army’s formation got disrupted, and they landed smack in the middle of a fog that had crept up around them while they were unaware. Such a thick mist was highly unusual for a grassland. Heedless, they wandered into the dense fog like children lost in a nightmare, unable to see the people and horses ahead of them. Amid the vapor, they began killing one another by mistake with unprecedented ferocity.
It all went as the Tuldarr army had cleverly orchestrated. As the Tayiri soldiers realized they were fighting one another, they found themselves blocked by a huge wall of flames. From the other side of the burning walls, relentless volleys of magic buffeted them. The surviving Tayiri soldiers later said, “That was a sight no one should ever have to see.”
Unable to fight back, the army was routed by fire and spells. After a narrow escape, the Tayiri army discovered it had suffered thirty thousand casualties on the first day.
Most horrifying of all was that the one who had instructed Tuldarr’s forces was the queen in the castle.
She observed through the eyes of the mystical spirits she dispatched for surveillance while also communicating magically with her closest advisers. That was how she gave direction to the mages in the army and, even from so far away in the palace, reversed the overwhelming disadvantage.
The next day, a witch appeared before her.
Oscar held back a sigh of grief for young Tinasha.
He trusted that she was an excellent ruler. From what little he’d seen of her diary, he knew she’d stood firm in a maelstrom of war both within the country and without.
However, he’d never imagined her orchestrating such a cutthroat strategy. The way she smiled at him so innocently made it difficult to believe.
This meant that Tinasha was now back to her true self, the queen who fought to the bitter end despite her own loneliness.
So that’s her other side… It’s truly a world apart.
All royals had two faces—a public one and a private one. While Oscar largely operated with his public demeanor while keeping his private feelings in check, Tinasha’s two sides formed a clear duality. Both portions were opposed.
That was only becoming evident now that Tuldarr was at war, despite remaining hidden during her coronation and her fight with the demoness.
The appearance of a witch meant that Tinasha was about to become the Witch Killer Queen once more.
“I told you it was a fun story, didn’t I? Anyway, she was fighting a battle while working on eliminating her enemies in Tuldarr at the same time. She didn’t have any spirits to spare—they were all filling in as castle guards for the soldiers who’d gone off to fight. The Traditionalists who meant to capitalize on a chance to assassinate her wound up arrested instead. She left herself open on purpose, and they fell for it. One after another, they were all executed or banished.”
“All of them? But wasn’t it the Traditionalists who pressured her to step down after the war?”
“So the records claim, but it’s not actually true. There wasn’t a single Traditionalist left by then. She made the decision herself to appear like she’d been forced to abdicate to satisfy Tayiri.”
“But…”
If Tinasha had stepped down from the throne by choice, then that changed the story drastically. It made clear that she believed her extraordinary might put her at the same level as a witch. She’d expelled herself for having too much strength.
“There is no need for a ruler to possess mighty power.”
She’d said that many times since coming to this time period. From the beginning, she’d seen herself as an anachronism. Yet she had chosen the path of abomination once again.
And once the dust settled, what would she relinquish this time?
Wait a minute… Is she not planning to become my queen?
If a person dangerous enough to kill witches single-handedly became the queen consort of the Great Nation of Farsas, other countries would undoubtedly grow exceedingly worried. That meant Tinasha had already abandoned a future where she became Oscar’s queen. It explained her request for the wedding plans to be postponed.
Even if she still came to him after everything was over, it would only be as someone under the watchful eye of Akashia’s wielder. At best, Tinasha would be his mistress; at worst, a prisoner. Either way, she would never show herself in public. She was going to force him to accept that.
“She’s crazy,” Oscar muttered.
He knew that if such a future came to be, Tinasha would only smile and insist, “I’m perfectly happy this way.”
Whether that was true or not, Oscar would find it unbearable.
Oscar turned to Als, who stood behind him. “Change of plans. I’m going back to Farsas.”
If he acted now, there was still a chance that the situation could be resolved privately, without other countries finding out. Legis, the next king of Tuldarr, wouldn’t want the image of the queen who preceded him to be tainted with needless prejudice. Oscar could work with Legis and appeal to the other nations. While Tinasha confronted the witch, they would handle the diplomatic side of things and control the narrative.
Fortunately, Magdalsia was the aggressor, and it was headed by a witch, a creature fearsome to all. Oscar felt confident that if he got the major nations’ understanding, he could do something from within Farsas. All that remained was coordinating with Tinasha.
As Oscar bid a hasty good-bye, Travis suddenly went from smirking to grave. “About what we discussed tonight… Do not hand over Eleterria. I don’t want any do-overs of history, even if I remain unaware of them. I don’t want to forget Aurelia, and there’s no guarantee that things will happen the same way. Don’t use it, and don’t allow it to get stolen. I refuse to let this timeline go.” Without waiting for a reply, the demon king walked away, melting into the crowd.
Now that this inhuman being had gone back to his girl, where should Oscar go next? What should he do? He still didn’t have a clear idea, but inaction was not an option. Thus, Oscar left the ornate, gorgeously decorated hall behind, his heart heavy.
Although his aim was to get out of Gandona swiftly, Oscar had to make a detour to his guest room first. And it was there that he detected something was off.
Nothing had been amiss when he left the room, but now there was very clearly something wrong. Oscar scanned the room, gripped by a vague sensation that he wasn’t alone. Drawing Akashia, he demanded, “Who is it?”
He hadn’t expected an answer, but a young man replied, “I have a few things to discuss with you, so I let myself in.”
No person emerged—there was only a voice. Oscar recognized it, however. “Valt? Show yourself.”
“You can’t be serious. I’m quite afraid of you, you know. Anyway, would you like to hear something nice? It’s about the Witch of the Forbidden Forest.”
Oscar’s intuition told him that what he could sense of Valt was too faint for the man to be hidden in the room. While Oscar had deliberated over how to respond to the mysterious voice at first, that made him fire back, “Tell me.”
“Always so quick to decide. The woman who controls Magdalsia now…is not the Witch of the Forbidden Forest,” Valt revealed, and Oscar had to bite his tongue to stop from making a noise of surprise.
Tinasha had all but decided that the one stirring up trouble was a witch. If she was wrong, the consequences could be astronomical.
Valt went on calmly. “However, physically, she is the same as the Witch of the Forbidden Forest. It is only the soul inside that differs. The soul inside her now is that of King Hubert of Magdalsia.”
Oscar frowned. Things were escalating beyond expectation to a scale that felt absurd. “Is that even possible?”
“Not with magic. But unfortunately, there is an artifact that enables it. I believe you call it the Mirror of Oblivion?”
“Is that an outsiders’ artifact?”
“Oh, did you hear that from that demon king? That does save me the trouble of explaining. Yes, it is an outsiders’ artifact. The witch’s soul is sealed within the looking glass, along with your queen’s missing spirit.”
“Within the mirror? According to the fairy tale, it’s only supposed to absorb sadness.”
“Yes, in the most widely circulated version. But absorbing sadness is merely one side effect. What the Mirror of Oblivion actually does is capture human souls and memories, recording them. It’s triggered when you lock eyes with your reflection.”
Valt was revealing incredibly detailed information about an item from beyond the known world. Perhaps Valt knew so much about it because of his intimacy with another outsiders’ artifact, Eleterria.
“The Mirror of Oblivion has been sealed away along with the Witch of the Forbidden Forest in a cave deep in Magdalsia for a very long time. But it would appear the seal has been broken, and the mirror was taken and sold to the king as an antique. King Hubert gazed into his new looking glass, but the seal within the artifact must still be intact. His extracted soul couldn’t enter it. From there, I imagine it wandered around until it found the body of the witch and possessed it.”
Oscar picked up on a vague sense of bitterness from Valt, though it vanished in an instant, so perhaps it was only his imagination.
“If the mirror is broken, the witch’s true spirit will return, and the king’s will be driven from her body. But outsiders’ artifacts are sturdily crafted, so your queen is the only one who can manage it.”
“What a ridiculous story,” Oscar scoffed. He was having a hard time believing all of this coming from out of nowhere. According to mages, separating a person’s soul from their body was impossible. But outsiders’ artifacts enabled what was magically impossible.
In a voice kept even so as not to give away his doubt over which was the truth, Oscar replied, “If that’s true, why are you telling me this? It sounds like a trap.”
“It is true. I’ve offended Tinasha quite terribly in the past, so I wanted to do something to try and mend her impression of me a little.”
“That’s not going to happen. Aren’t you the one who gave the Mirror of Oblivion to the king of Magdalsia in the first place?”
“Why…would you think that?” Valt questioned stiffly.
Oscar retorted matter-of-factly, “You’re much too knowledgeable about all of this to be merely a messenger. What’s your angle? If you’re trying to lure her out, you’re on a suicide mission.”
“I’m not that reckless. She is quite formidable at present.”
Several hours earlier, Tinasha had attacked Valt’s estate. He shouldn’t want to see her at all, so then how did he stand to benefit? Why had he given the king of Magdalsia the Mirror of Oblivion only to turn around and feed Oscar information and urge him to undo everything?
Belatedly, Valt responded to Oscar’s question. His voice sounded strained. “It’s simple. It was a mistake to use the witch’s body to declare war on Tuldarr. In truth, I only intended for the Mirror of Oblivion to put King Hubert into a coma for a diversion.”
“Yeah, you’ve really botched this one. And now you want her to clean up your mess?”
“I don’t care if Tuldarr and the witch end up clashing. But…I don’t wish for her to remain in that state. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
“………”
Ever since the Eleterria orb had been stolen, Tinasha had been changing by the day.
She decided everything on her own and implemented her decisions immediately. That had to be difficult for Valt to contend with. Tinasha had to be somewhat aware of this herself, since she fretted that Valt could predict her thoughts.
“Left to her own devices, she’ll take unpredictable actions like destroying my mansion. I’d like to ask you to take the reins, so to speak. And, admittedly, I don’t wish for her to die. You can tell that I bear her no ill will, can’t you?”
“You would have killed us long ago if you wanted to.”
“I’m glad you understand. So consider this a mere confluence of mutual interest. All you have to do is tell her that she needs to break the mirror. No one has to fight a witch. I would hate for Tuldarr Castle and its half of Eleterria to be destroyed in a battle.”
“By witch, you mean Hubert, right?”
“Yes, but magic is in the soul, while half of knowledge resides within the body, and the two are linked. A different soul can still use quite a bit of the body’s magical power. At most, the spells will be clumsy and crude. Now that he has the strength of a witch, he will not hesitate to wield it even more brazenly than she would have. That’s obvious from how Magdalsia mobilized for battle.”
Under normal circumstances, a country as small as Magdalsia would never have attacked Tuldarr. It wouldn’t stand a chance at winning. However, King Hubert must have decided that victory was assured with the witch’s power.
Too much strength could easily lead a person astray, a fact that history had borne out. Generals had brandished devastating military might to carry out massacres, while kings had ordered execution after execution for no reason at all. Forbidden curses were proof enough that a not insignificant number of mages had also fallen prey to such temptations.
And then there were the witches.
Far too mighty, their deeds—feats that should not be humanly possible—became the stuff of legends.
With the capabilities of a witch, the king of Magdalsia wished to trample over the Magic Empire that had been his neighbor for so many years.
“He’s got ambition; I’ll give him that. He’s certainly creating trouble for us,” remarked Oscar.
“Having power makes you want to use it. However, we know its limit. The Mirror of Oblivion is in the castle of Magdalsia. Destroy it, and this will be over,” Valt said, repeating his instructions as if to indicate that the conversation was over.
Oscar still had questions, though. “I heard you have memories of before the timeline changed.”
“That demon king told you that, too? He’s really ruining things for me with how much he meddles.”
“Why do you want Eleterria?” Oscar pressed.
“To change the past, of course.”
“Then wouldn’t just one orb be enough?”
“It will be meaningless without both. Shouldn’t you be hastening to your lady’s side?”
“She…doesn’t want my help,” Oscar admitted, unable to hide his bitterness.
Tinasha’s first war in four centuries and the desire to prevent Valt from predicting her actions had changed her.
But in all likelihood, she hadn’t told Oscar a thing because she didn’t want to drag him and Farsas into the conflict. Oscar had done the same to her once. On that occasion, Tinasha had provided aid secretly to help him break a forbidden curse, even though Tuldarr would have wanted to receive public credit for intervening.
Oscar wondered if his private wish to attempt something similar would be a violation of Tinasha’s choice. He thought of the distance that had formed between them. It was the proper space two rulers ought to maintain. Up until recently, Tinasha was the one bridging it, moving closer to him with an innocent smile and unguarded affection. Those qualities had made Oscar choose her to stand beside him.
And now, she would no longer lean on him, becoming again the sovereign queen who acted for her homeland. It was clear from their previous conversations that she did not require his help.
Valt sounded dismayed. “Isn’t it a little late for this? Don’t slack off just because you earned her heart so easily this time. In every other instance, you only managed to win her over after considerable effort. That she loved you from the start is unique. You need to act prudently.”
“What the hell are you talking about…?”
Valt had to be referring to previous timelines. Oscar had no recollection of doing anything worth such censure, but it also felt like the blame really did lie with him somehow. He pursed his lips.
Valt went on, his voice brimming with conviction. “This is who she really is. But she’s also her true self when she’s with you. She is not your one and only partner, but you are hers. You will always be the one who saves her. And you’re going to let her go?”
“You…certainly sound confident. It’s like you’ve witnessed it all personally.”
“Because I have. Why do you think I can predict both of your actions? I worked for you both once, in the past.”
“What?” Oscar blurted out.
Valt had infiltrated Farsas as a court mage from Yarda, a neighboring country. It wasn’t beyond conception to learn he’d worked directly for Farsas in another timeline. Tinasha was right when she’d said Valt was familiar with them. Apparently, he’d even been close with the two.
“So you’re a spy. I can’t believe I have no memory of you ever existing.”
“Think that if you like, but it isn’t as if I manipulate time at will. Back then, a farmer who lived far away from Farsas had Eleterria. The orbs changed hands many times, and I wasn’t able to follow their trail.”
“But you still remember all the previous timelines?” Oscar demanded.
Valt fell silent. After a few moments, that aura of bitterness seeped out again. “For me, the events happened a very long time ago. To you two, they never existed. However, I am well aware of how often you rescued her in many of those erased histories, and of how deeply she loves you.”
A purehearted, lonely, earnest, and ruthless woman.
What kind of person was Tinasha in another timeline? And was Oscar really her salvation?
Had she loved him regardless?
It was all ludicrous. Without meaning to, Oscar let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t the slightest notion what parts were true. He was genuinely bewildered. Was this how a person with knowledge of lost histories spoke?
Valt continued placidly. “If you understand, then you need to get going. Now Tuldarr is… She is fulfilling the role, but ordinarily, you would be the one facing a witch, yes?”
“Because…of Akashia,” Oscar muttered. Possessing the royal sword made Oscar the prime candidate for vanquishing a witch.
“Go carry out your mission. Save her,” Valt instructed candidly. Too candidly.
But for some strange reason, it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, the truth of it sank through Oscar like a stone. He clenched one hand into a fist, then released it. Tinasha’s sad smile when they had bid good-bye to each other surfaced in his memory.
Oscar made up his mind, selecting the path that had always been right there for him—the road to a life with her. That decision had long since been made.
He had to be brutally honest with her to bridge the distance between them. It was no longer the Dark Age when she was a lonely queen. She had crossed four hundred years to find him.
“How dare you say she isn’t my one and only. You’ve got some nerve,” Oscar spat.
“It’s true.”
“I don’t care about something I don’t recall existing. She’s the only one for me, and I’ll prove it,” Oscar proclaimed, sheathing Akashia and heading for the door. Before exiting, he turned back to the empty room. “And someday, I’m going to pay you back in full for what you did.”
Valt offered no reply. He only chuckled, sounding both amused and perturbed. Then his faint aura faded from the room entirely.
After watching Oscar leave the room from a distant vantage point, Valt let out a long sigh. Undoing his spell, he sank into a chair.
The fifth witch was not the king of Farsas’s only partner. In many timelines, he never met her and married other women instead.
Still, Valt knew better than anyone that Oscar was the most attached to Tinasha out of all of them. Because of that, he had been given the opportunity to go after her once more.

The army marched on through the night as if possessed, and when the lights of a village came into view, the procession halted. The settlement sat in southwestern Tuldarr, close to the Magdalsian border. The general in command of the vanguard battalion hissed to his troops. “Kill the villagers. Watch out for any mages mixed in. Don’t let a single person escape. Stack up the food in the center of town.”
The soldiers nodded. Despite the vast power difference, none showed any fear over challenging a Great Nation. They were like expressionless dolls.
“Let’s go,” the general ordered, and the soldiers kicked their horses into a gallop.
A woman floating in the sky observed all this with delight. She had curly light-brown hair and amber eyes. Her brilliant beauty contrasted with the cruel smile on her lips. While she called herself Lucia, the soul controlling her body was not hers.
Unable to suppress his glee, the king whispered in her voice, “So this is how Tuldarr falls…”
Magdalsia’s glorious and prosperous neighbor had flourished for many years with its power and expertise, inciting jealousy all the while. The king envied how Tuldarr could thrive so much compared to his own land, where nothing ever changed. So when power fell in his lap, his first desire was to stomp out that irksome thorn to the north. He had whipped all of this together in a short time, because Tuldarr would notice if he delayed. Having the country’s ruler operate under the delusion that the king of Magdalsia was comatose and that a mystery woman had usurped the nation was best.
There was no time like the present. Starting today, he would remake the history of the entire mainland.
As the king surveyed the terrain below through Lucia’s eyes, he realized that he hadn’t heard any screams or weapons clashing.
Immediately after, a mage in the ground battalion contacted him telepathically.
“The village is empty! No one is here!”
“What…?”
Lucia’s beautiful face twisted into a scowl. Then a white light flooded the entire village; the king lifted his arms to cover his face. The light persisted for half a minute, turning the landscape as bright as day. But when it vanished, the king found that his connection to the mage on the ground had been cut and that the troops there had vanished as well.
“How many did we catch?” asked Tinasha. The queen was in her command center.
“A little over a thousand with all three villages combined,” reported Renart, and Tinasha nodded.
When she learned that Magdalsia’s army was on the march, the first thing she did was lay a trap close to the border. Once her sensors notified her that the Magdalsian troops had crossed the border, she evacuated the villagers and set up a spell in their place that would trigger once the enemy troops broke in. The spell was one of Tinasha’s devising and had two primary effects—it would put all living beings in the vicinity to sleep, and then it would forcibly teleport them away after a few seconds. The Magdalsian soldiers had attempted to slaughter defenseless villagers, only to fall into Tuldarr’s ploy.
“What should we do with the soldiers we teleported?” inquired Renart. “At the moment, they are being held within a barrier.”
“Their mind control should wear off by the time they wake up. If they fight back, kill them. I’m hoping to defeat the witch before that happens, though.” Tinasha leaned back in her chair as she observed the map hung in her war tent.
Most of the soldiers in this war were victims, except the instigator of all of it, the witch. Tinasha preferred to release the troops unharmed, but she would kill them if necessary.
Her top priority was the people of Tuldarr, and she couldn’t afford to forget it.
The queen, clad in black mage’s garb as her battle attire, issued her orders with a dispassionate face.
Tuldarr’s last war was the great one fought against Tayiri four centuries ago. Magdalsia had no more experience in battle than Tuldarr. Farsas and other countries situated in the center of the mainland were constantly fighting off enemies, so their forces were battle-hardened and well-trained, but Tuldarr and Magdalsia had enjoyed peace since the end of the Dark Age.
And while that had made them very fortunate and blessed indeed, it also meant they were unreliable in a crisis.
However, Tuldarr had Tinasha.
Even a witch would come to learn what it was like to square off against a country focused on magic. This was what Tinasha had been preparing for this whole time.
Initially, she had intended to go alone and wipe out the witch. But when she thought about the future of her country, she decided to take a different approach.
Oscar’s objections hadn’t swayed Tinasha’s decision. This was her best chance while she was still queen to let the world know what it meant to war with Tuldarr. She would etch Tuldarr’s singular power onto the pages of history so that none would think of challenging it for at least another few hundred years. She also wanted the soldiers and mages of Tuldarr that she would be leaving behind to gain combat experience.
Tinasha chose to sacrifice a minor nation manipulated by a witch for the benefit of her homeland.
“Now that they’ll think twice before setting foot in another village, I suppose it’s time for the next stage of the plan. Please make ready,” Tinasha ordered, getting to her feet. Her advisers stared at her with fear and awe as she strode out of the tent with a sheathed sword.
Once she was outside, she drew the thin rapier. The enchanted blade glimmered a faint purple. It had originally belonged to the Farsas treasure vault, but Oscar told her no one was using it and gave it to her. She would wield it as a weapon that could function both as a blade and as a spell catalyst.
With her naked blade in one hand, Tinasha surveyed her troops. They had made camp on a grassy plain sloping gently south at the exact halfway point between Tuldarr’s capital and the southwestern border.
As commanded by Tinasha, the Tuldarr army in its arc formation numbered close to forty thousand in order to match Magdalsia’s thirty thousand.
It would’ve been dangerous to have fewer troops than the enemy, while too many would lead to others writing the victory off as one achieved by numbers alone. Therefore, this was the safest course. This force was still sizable enough to engage without needing to resort to deceptive tactics anyhow.
“All that’s left is to see how she teleports in.”
There were three main types of magical teleportation: individual teleportation, teleportation portals, and transportation arrays.
When a mage wished to warp away, they would use individual teleportation magic to disappear and then reappear at a destination.
Teleporting other people required opening a portal. The spell to create a portal was a grade of difficulty higher than that for individual teleportation, but it could be used in many ways. However, the farther the distance to the destination, the more magic and spell configuration power it took, and multiple coordinates for the target location were required to make a larger portal.
The final type was a transportation array, a spell seared into the ground as a permanent installation. It allowed non-mages to warp away at any time without the mage who wove the magic. However, such arrays needed regular maintenance and had to be continuously charged with magical power. This meant that locations connected by the spell had to authorize its installation or it would be almost impossible to set up.
In wartime, transportation arrays were employed regularly, as they allowed armies to warp from a fortress or castle to the national border and deploy for battle without consuming a mage’s power.
However, once out on the battlefield, there were no transportation arrays. Mages who possessed other countries’ large-scale teleportation coordinates were scarce, and such information was necessary to make an array. Similarly, almost no one had the required magic to open a massive portal, making it impractical on all fronts.
After considering all this, Tinasha decided that a witch would probably deploy her army using teleportation. The longer the march, the greater the physical toll. It also increased the risk of being waylaid en route.
Teleporting solved those issues and allowed the enemy to sneak into Tuldarr. Tinasha had set her trap assuming the witch would think the same way.
Tinasha expanded the defensive wards of cities that were both close to the capital and near locations that could accommodate an army of thirty thousand. She did this with every settlement except for two. Then she laid out a network of lightly cloaked patrol spells and sprinkled tiny pebbles all around that would deter any mage from wanting to teleport into the terrain.
This ensured that there were only two places an army could appear—the plains to the east or the ruins of the old castle city to the south.
Tinasha believed that there was a 60 percent chance that Magdalsia’s army would teleport in via a portal and an 80 percent chance that said portal would lead to one of those two places.
“If they march in normally, we can use that time to change our formation. But if they teleport—”
Before Tinasha could finish her sentence, the air in the middle of the grassy plains warped.
The source of the disturbance was just beyond where her army was stationed. A buzz and a frisson of tension ran through the troops.
Sweeping her sword to one side, Tinasha teleported to the center of the vanguard.
Cast in the moonlight, the queen floated up into the air and drew all eyes to her.
Before the distorting space, Tinasha turned back to face her forces.
“Soldiers of Tuldarr, do not be afraid. I promise you victory. No matter who our enemy is, we will not allow them to invade our lands. Now show me your strength!”
Her orders were as clear as crystal, seeping into every fighter present. An exuberant roar erupted from the Tuldarr army. Here and there, soldiers offered morale-boosting cheers and praise for the queen.
Tinasha gave a little smile and turned to face the warping in the air. It spread rapidly, tearing a hole in the atmosphere with a high-pitched ringing.
After a moment, a large force appeared on the grassy field.
With the Tuldarr army deployed in a crescent shape, the Magdalsian troops were surrounded on three sides. The invaders surveyed the situation and then froze. Undoubtedly, they had expected to appear from the witch’s portal on the eastern plains. However, it was there that another portal had brought them here.
Immediately, Magdalsia’s soldiers found themselves fenced in. Moreover, the grassland was a gentle slope, and the Tuldarr side was positioned on the higher ground. Clearly, Magdalsia’s forces had warped into a trap. An ordinary army might have fallen into a panic.
The Magdalsian troops were still partially under the witch’s control, so the soldiers overcame their moment of stupefaction quickly and drew their swords.
Innumerable white blades caught the moonlight and sparkled like an ocean.
Tinasha frowned. “So they really are just puppets under her control. I had heard she specialized in psychological magic, but controlling an entire army is certainly no easy feat.”
“What do we do, Your Majesty?”
“We follow the plan,” Tinasha replied coolly.
The enemy soldiers attempted to gallop up the grassy field on horseback. Eyeing them placidly, the queen lifted her sword. On that cue, all the Tuldarr mages fed magic into a spell.
A net of lightning flashed across the meadow, scattering sparks into the night.
Screams mingled with electrical crackles as soldiers and horses toppled onto the ground in succession. The queen beheld the display with a blank expression.
The spell was a large-scale one designed to knock out the troops who had fallen into the trap. Tinasha had chosen this method partly because killing mind-controlled warriors would affect her army’s morale, and also because it was safer to take on stunned opponents. Battles between mages largely entailed setting lots of ploys in advance. If a mage had to have a battle, it was preferable that it proceeded according to a plan. The war with Tayiri four hundred years ago had been much the same—except for the part where a witch showed up.
Rendered immobile, the capable number of Magdalsian troops dwindled swiftly. Relief spread throughout the Tuldarr army as its soldiers watched it happen.
And that was when a powerful rush of magic burst open overhead.
“Wha—?!”
Mages who had been concentrating on the large-scale spell yelped and stood aghast, doubting their eyes.
“What in the world is that?!” someone exclaimed.
Out of the darkness emerged a gigantic red hand, large enough to grab hold of a castle spire. It slammed down toward the Tuldarr troops as if crushing a bug.
Soldiers screamed as the front lines fell apart.
The army was ready to flee the terrifying scene when their queen strode forward and called out in a ringing, far-reaching voice, “It’s an illusion. Do not falter.”
To verify her claim, Tinasha swung her sword, and the red hand vanished without a trace. The night returned to normal.
However, the huge mass of magic in the air only emanated more bloodlust.
Tinasha turned her head to look behind her. “All right, it looks like the star of our show has finally arrived. Renart, please handle the rest.”
“I wish you the utmost luck in battle, Your Majesty,” Renart replied, bowing deeply.
Scornful laughter rained down from the sky. “Will you ever tire of these petty tricks? Do you really think a so-called Queen of Tuldarr can win against a witch?”
“Of course I do. I’ll make sure history remembers this,” Tinasha replied, launching up into the inky sky. Another woman floated there in waiting, barely visible against the ebon darkness.
Moonlight glinted off the woman’s light-brown hair, turning it silver. She wore a belligerent smile. “If you’d only sit there and look pretty, you’d make a lovely doll. I’ll train that insolence out of you, make you my slave, and keep you as a beloved pet.”
“Which of us needs training, I wonder? If you want me, pay with your life,” Tinasha shot back. She wasted no time casting a spell with her left hand. Once launched overhead, the straightforward yet powerful magic manifested.
A fierce wave of power shook the atmosphere, so strong that Tris ducked. While she was still young enough that other mages objected to her taking part in the battle, she refused to back down. Ultimately, she had been permitted to fight under the condition that she keep away from the front lines.
The Tuldarr army’s vanguard was beating a swift retreat. The majority of the Magdalsian soldiers had been neutralized already. Tinasha’s plan called for everyone to fall back once the witch showed herself.
Tris stood at the very rear of Tuldarr’s forces, closest to the castle city. Wind whipped past, howling in her ears, and she peered into the sky. The unmistakable hum of beating wings was growing louder. When she scanned for the source, she spied a great black shadow approaching.
“What is that…?” Hastily, Tris began drawing a spell, but the spirit next to her stopped her.
“Wait. That’s Nark.”
“What? Do you know that thing?” Tris asked, frowning at the unfamiliar name. Still, she dismissed her magic, allowing the dragon to glide in close and land in front of her. A man jumped off its gigantic back.
Pamyra came running from her position in the army, drawn by this latest arrival. When the man caught sight of her, he asked, “Is Tinasha here?”
“Yes, but she’s battling the witch…”
“Battling already, huh? Where?”
“In the sky above the front line.”
“Why do they always love to go flying? I guess I can’t talk to her, then,” said Oscar.
“You can,” corrected Eir, who was nearby.
Oscar threw him a look of surprise. “I see. Using a spirit…? I’d appreciate that, but it might distract her from the fight.”
“It’s probably fine. She issued orders to the army while fighting a witch four hundred years ago,” Eir informed him.
After a sigh, Oscar responded, “She really doesn’t know how to be ordinary, does she? All right then, let me talk to her.” Eir nodded and opened up a spell around Oscar. The girl next to him was so nervous that her knees were knocking together.
Overhead, a ray of red light shot through the heavens.
What made witches so terrifying wasn’t their great power—it was the spells and experience they had honed over their long lives. At least that was how Tinasha saw it. The most frightening thing of all was the unknown.
However, the woman before her was different. She poured tremendous magic into the simplest constructs.
Of course, the illusions and psychological contamination magic she employed between regular attack spells were very high level, but they were nothing that Tinasha couldn’t fend off, prepared as she was to take on a witch.
If this is all she’s got, I can kill her.
This one was nowhere near the caliber of either the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned, Leonora, or the Witch of Silence, Lavinia.
Dodging a torrent of light that came racing her way, Tinasha taunted, “Is that all you’ve got? Once you’re out of steam, I’ll kill you.”
“Damn you,” snarled the witch, an ugly look twisting her fine features.
Tinasha was very well acquainted with that look—the hatred and loathing in a would-be assassin’s eyes upon realizing they couldn’t defeat the queen. She had walked a long road paved with the blood of such people.
She felt no anguish about it, then or now. The weak perished on the battlefield. That was how it was.
However, Tinasha did have something she wanted to know. Fixing her dark eyes right on the other woman, she asked, “Do you know where Senn went?”
She recalled what he’d said to her when she was a young girl.
“If you ever get tired of it all, you should go visit her. She’s a troublemaker, but…I know she’d make a good friend for you.”
Senn’s lover, the one he said was free-spirited, capricious, and affectionate.
It was hard to link that description with the person Tinasha was battling. However, this woman had come to see Senn every time he manifested, which meant she had to be a long-lived witch.
And that suggested she could be responsible for Senn’s disappearance.
Tinasha kept herself alert as she awaited a reply, on guard all the while.
Yet the woman only gave her a suspicious frown. “Senn? What’s that?”
“My spirit. You are the Witch of the Forbidden Forest, aren’t you?”
That question prompted an unnatural pause. Before Tinasha could repeat her inquiry, Lucia’s red lips curled. “Yes. I’m a witch.”
She didn’t offer her true name or her witch title. Lavinia had been that way as well.
Tinasha pressed on. “Senn knew you, so you captured him to prevent him from telling me who you really are, didn’t you? What have you done with Senn?”
The woman gave an overly affected shrug. “Who knows?” Her disdainful response caused Tinasha to pause.
It was obvious that Lucia didn’t intend to give an honest reply, and hounding her anyway would only put Tinasha at a disadvantage. She was in the middle of a battle, and her opponent commanded an enemy army. It was better to prioritize her country, not her personal feelings.
Thus Tinasha declared, “Then I need nothing more from you. You will die here.”
In all honesty, it would have been infinitely better had things never reached this point. Senn was like family to Tinasha, and the witch was undoubtedly an important person in his life, just like how the younger Tinasha had valued the Oscar who rescued her.
It broke Tinasha’s heart to eliminate someone like that while Senn was unaware. Perhaps if she and Lucrezia had met centuries ago, things wouldn’t have turned out like this.
There was little point in waxing sentimental about preferring not to kill the witch, however.
Tinasha sucked in a sharp breath. Her vision grew crisp and clear.
The other woman attempted to cast a spell in the dark sky, but it was only a simple attack spell. She would be crushed by a greater power, and this would be the end.
“Wane, o ring. Let your circulation break off, and your fingertips corrode away. Your remaining thoughts shall be eternal and bring you awareness from beyond.”
Suppressing her emotions, the queen cast a spell with her right hand, intoning the words with a dispassionate tone.
“Tinasha.”
“Eek!” she yelped, her half-formed magic dispersing. “Wh-what do you want, Oscar?!”
Why had he interrupted her out of the blue, and why did she hear his voice when he wasn’t here?
Fortunately, Tinasha snapped out of her shock quickly and scrambled to dispatch the spheres of light flying her way.
Infusing her voice with magic, Tinasha went on, “Why are you…? Why are you using Eir to speak to me? Why are you here?”
“Just listen to me. That witch isn’t who you think. It’s the king of Magdalsia.”
“What?”
“The real witch’s soul is locked inside the Mirror of Oblivion, and so is that mystical spirit of yours. You need to go to Magdalsia, find the mirror, and destroy it. That will return the witch to normal.”
“What…? Where is all this coming from?” Tinasha responded. This was so abrupt that she found it hard to believe. However, Oscar had proved before that he bore a keen intuition for falsehoods. He would never offer unverified information at such a critical juncture.
Once more, Tinasha sized up the enemy floating across from her in the sky.
Why were the spells the witch used so simple? Why had she appeared after the king fell into a coma? Why was her note written in the king’s handwriting? Why was she so desperate to seize authority over the country? It all made sense if the king of Magdalsia was in control of the witch’s body.
Instead of the spell she’d been preparing when Oscar contacted her, Tinasha cast a simple one with no incantation. As she released it as a feint, she asked coldly, “Who told you all of this?”
“Valt.”
“Whaaaaaaat?!”
“I know what you’re thinking. Just go to Magdalsia and find that mirror. If the spirit really is inside it, you can hear everything from him and decide whether or not to break the mirror then. If it doesn’t look like you can find it, just teleport out of there immediately.”
“………”
Find Senn and learn the truth—she did want to do that if possible. Unfortunately, the situation didn’t allow for it.
“I’m in the middle of a battle… I can’t just leave,” Tinasha pointed out.
“I’ll take over.”
“Excuse me? This is Tuldarr’s war. You can’t just join in; this has nothing to do with you! It’s out of the question. I appreciate the information, but you need to return to Farsas.”
“No.”
“I’m going to get very mad, you know,” Tinasha warned. If Oscar was speaking through Eir, that meant he was here on the battlefield. Had he even considered his position before rushing in? Oscar could be as stubborn as he liked in their private lives as Tinasha’s husband, but being a king meant drawing some firm lines. Quelling her desire to yell at him, Tinasha snapped, “I am not your wife. I am the Queen of Tuldarr, and I won’t permit you to interfere.”
“The battle is mostly won already, isn’t it? All that’s left is fighting the witch and cleaning everything up. I’m only proposing that I help bring things to an end in a way you’ll agree with.”
“I can’t twist the situation and prioritize what I ‘agree with.’”
That would be tantamount to letting her personal desire to find Senn and learn the truth take over. Tinasha would only indulge in that after settling things here. As the ruler of Tuldarr, she controlled this conflict and refused to relinquish that.
No one could replace Tinasha. Four centuries ago, she had operated alone. While her spirits were like family, they did not offer opinions to their queen and master. They were demons in human territory, after all. Likewise, Tinasha’s mortal supporters obeyed their queen’s orders to the letter. Tuldarr leaned on its ruler as a pillar, and Tinasha had lived nineteen years in that system, never straying from it.
“A ruler is the cog in the machine that keeps the country running smoothly. That machine must not be weakened by any personal feelings.”
Oscar had once called Tinasha spoiled for not understanding how to rely on other people, and that may have been true. Yes, she trusted him. She knew that he would always be there to help if he was able.
However, Tinasha rejected that assistance. This was her duty, and she couldn’t share it with anyone else. She was the only one left who knew just how stifling the Dark Age had been.
While shooting down the witch’s attacks, Tinasha closed her eyes. The young queen in her memory was telling her to refuse.
Doubt led to weakness. There could be no faltering here. Tinasha had to harden herself and be ruthless.
“Even what’s most important—can be forgotten.”
Tinasha crossed her arms, and red blades shot out from them, arcing through the air toward the witch. Lucia released luminous bolts to intercept them, but the red blades wove around the counterattack deftly and closed in.
“You little brat!” the witch spat, and she teleported away. She wasn’t swift enough to escape completely, though. One of Tinasha’s blades cut deep into her arm, reaching down to the bone. The sight of the deep gash caused Tinasha’s face to scrunch up.
If the soul inside her isn’t really the witch…
Who was trying to kill her now? Who was the enemy and who wasn’t?
Doubts snuck in, but Tinasha exhaled them, turning her mind away from those ideas.
“I understand what you’re saying. But we’re in a different time period now. You don’t have to bear every burden all alone. Better to lean on me than regret it later.”
She had to shut down her mind.
“And I’ll share those burdens with you for the rest of our lives.”
Tinasha bit her lip.
She had never spurned solitude. It was her cradle, there with her from her earliest memories—a membrane that covered her always. It was natural to her, and she felt nothing about it.
But the only time she had cried from loneliness and let out all the feelings she couldn’t hold in any longer, there had been a man who promised her it would all get better.
And so, she had traveled four centuries to reach him.
So why did she want to cry again now?
“The mirror is an outsiders’ artifact. You are the only one who can break it. You have to go.”
Tinasha didn’t answer, instead casting spell after spell dispiritedly.
“Trust me. I’ll figure this out for you.”
Four hundred years ago wasn’t such a long time for Tinasha. She had been asleep for it all, so it felt no longer than a year.
Every day since waking had been fun. She wasn’t alone, and she got to be happy. He really had kept his promise.
“But I…”
Tinasha’s eyes grew hot, and she closed them. No matter how happy her days were, she was the one outlier from another era who didn’t belong.
She couldn’t forget that, nor could she change it. When called, she had to rise from her warm place and do what was necessary. She had to choose a lifestyle befitting her position.
It should have been simple. It was all she knew.
Tears spilled from between Tinasha’s long black eyelashes. She didn’t know why she was crying, but it seemed to her that everything she’d carried with her this whole time was melting away bit by bit and turning into sobs.
Tinasha sucked in a hot breath. “No matter how crude her spells are, normal people have no way of resisting psychological magic.”
“I’m only going to be buying time, so I’ll manage somehow. I just need you to agree to it.”
With a leap, Tinasha soared through the air. Razors came speeding for her, and she deployed an array of glowing spheres to block each one.
What is the real witch like?
She knew that these objects of the world’s fear and abhorrence were, in fact, just human beings.
Yet could Tinasha allow herself to waver and to rely on him? Would it not be equivalent to weighing her country and a single man against everything else? The gamble was far too unbalanced. It was much safer to kill the witch here and search for the mirror afterward.
Tinasha used her sword to hurl a spell and watched the woman offset it with one of her own, a look of loathing on her face.
Pale moonlight flooded the grassy plains. With one eye on the beautiful vista, Tinasha thought about her missing spirit.
Why was he sealed in the mirror with the witch? What did the witch mean to him?
Tinasha had no answer at present.
Still, anyone could be someone else’s salvation, just as one man had saved her.
As long as they honored that relationship.
“Lean on me. I want to repay you for what you did during the Druza situation.”
His voice sank deep into her. She looked out over the rolling landscape that stretched far into the distance. Out here, there was no division between one time period and the next.
“What if…you hold out until I break the mirror and the real witch returns to her body and tries to kill you? What would you do then?”
“I would kill her with Akashia. That’s its purpose.”
“……”
Just as Tuldarr was strong enough to handle forbidden curses, the Akashia swordsman was a match for mages. And witches were no exception to that. They were Oscar’s natural enemies.
Similarly, Tinasha believed him the only one capable of defeating her.
There could be no finer substitute for her.
Tinasha wiped her tears.
He had given her an option she would not have normally had, and with it, she would make a new decision.
Words infused with power held the night spellbound.
“I command all spirits who hear my voice. I give you two orders. One is to avoid death. The other is to treat the Akashia swordsman as your temporary master and aid him. Reply to me that you understand.”
After a beat, eleven spirits voiced their acceptance of her orders.
Nodding, Tinasha sheathed her sword and eyed the ground below. The Tuldarr army had withdrawn, leaving only the spirits and a man gazing up at her.
He had eyes bluer than the evening sky.
Her one and only.
Oscar’s hand was outstretched to Tinasha with that same warmth that always gave her strength.
The witch hurled a magic attack aimed for Tinasha, who negated it with a simple wave of her hand. Then she took a breath and teleported away.
When she reappeared, she was standing next to another ruler.
Oscar glanced down at Tinasha and smiled. With his off hand, he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “Crybaby.”
“Shut up.”
“Are you running from me, little girl?” the witch called from above. Both Tinasha and Oscar looked up at her.
Evidently recognizing the man next to Tinasha, the witch blanched. “The king of Farsas… The bearer of Akashia! Did you call him here because you knew you couldn’t defeat me?”
“No, but you’re close,” replied Tinasha.
The witch snorted and descended toward the ground. She eyed Oscar judgmentally as she reached a level no higher than his head. “Stripling, are you so besotted with this woman that you’re willing to interfere in others’ business? She’s too scrawny to whet my appetite, but I’ll train her until that body’s got more worth showing.”
The lascivious leer on the witch’s beautiful features made Oscar and Tinasha exchange a glance. The latter whispered, “How crass…”
“That’s how men’s minds work. And he’s a pervert,” replied the former.
“What are you mumbling about? Would you like to learn just how powerful a witch is?”
Hubert, king of Magdalsia, lifted the witch’s arms high. Acquiring this body had also given him access to all the ways it could use its power. He could make whatever he wanted into reality. And once he realized the extent of his new strength…humans seemed so very weak and insignificant.
Nothing was beyond him. He could mold the world to be as he wished. People often dubbed the current era the Age of Witches. Were that true, then why didn’t the witches take center stage if they possessed this much power? They should’ve done whatever they pleased. If they had the capability, why not dominate?
“Watch, because I’m going to gobble you up,” Hubert declared with a laugh.
Then the earsplitting din of thousands of wings flapping descended over the plain. A swarm of insects whirled into a vortex with Oscar and Tinasha at the eye.
While Oscar boggled at the sight, Tinasha took hold of his left hand. “Listen to me. Psychological magic takes root by manipulating the senses. It uses sight, sound, smell, and touch to hijack your sense of reality and burrow into your psyche.”
Her hand was small and warm. Despite the buzzing cacophony, her voice was clear.
“Don’t let your senses drift too far away. They will be your lifeline and your weapon. Trust your intuition so you can identify the truth. You are stronger than a witch.”
“Got it,” Oscar said, and as he did, the raging horde of insects vanished soundlessly. It had all been a hallucination.
While Oscar blinked in mild surprise, Tinasha gave him a fond smile. “I won’t be liable if you get yourself killed.”
“We’re not even married yet. I can’t die now. I’d have too many regrets.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re feeling ready. I’m glad. In that case, get going. Please help me.”
“Of course. Your wish is my command.”
Tinasha gave his hand one last squeeze. Then she released him and leaped into the sky. Swift as a teleport, she shot up to Hubert and passed right by him. “He’ll be your opponent now. I’ll see you again later.”
“You little…”
Hubert whirled to fling a spell at her, but the queen was already gone. Hubert faced Oscar, grinding his teeth in frustration over his lovely prey having escaped. “It’s no fun playing with a man. Well, no matter. I’ll make sure to leave your head intact so I can show that woman how insolent you are.”
“Big talk from someone on borrowed power. Your facade has already cracked wide open.”
“………”
“Good thing you invaded her country. If it were mine, I would have slaughtered all your toy soldiers without any mercy at all.”
Hubert’s face twisted; his false witch persona had crumbled. The witch’s creamy pale skin turned an ugly dark red. Her lips, which should’ve been curved in an alluring smile, spasmed.
“Insolent little wretch… Let’s see if you can still say that when you’re ripped into a thousand pieces.”
Beneath the azure moon, a dragon circled the sky. As its huge black shadow skimmed over the plains below, the two kings faced each other.

Magdalsia was an agricultural nation, and most of its citizens were farmers. Almost none of the houses had their lights on this late.
The only light came from windows in the castle walls. As Tinasha surveyed Magdalsia Castle from high in the air, she began a slow descent.
The magical probes she had sent out didn’t detect anything. The mirror was probably cloaked. If it were in the castle, it would be in the treasure vault or the king’s personal chambers. Catching someone and making them show her the way was likely better than searching blindly.
Tinasha selected a window in the farthest back room she could find and opened it with magic. The furnishings in the dark chamber were all lavish but lacked any evidence of use. She exited into a hallway lit by a flickering candelabra and broke into a run. A guard happened to be patrolling at the opposite end of the corridor.
Naturally, the watchman was stunned to see Tinasha, but she teleported to him before he could cry out. His body went rigid as the flat of her sword pressed against his throat. “Show me to the king’s rooms. I’ve muted your voice, so you won’t be able to call for help. You know what will happen if you resist, don’t you?”
The man could only gasp for air like a fish as this unbelievably beautiful woman threatened him with truly unsettling words. He was powerless to reply, only panting and exhaling.
Tinasha gave him a beatific smile. “Now that you understand, run. I’m in a hurry.”
She waved a hand, and a life-size statue in the hallway broke into pieces.
The soldier rushed to nod and repeatedly bow before setting off at a trot for the king’s rooms. Tinasha effortlessly knocked out any guards and ladies-in-waiting they passed along the way. When they finally reached the king’s chambers, she knocked out that guard as well. Drawing her sword, she entered the chamber.
At first glance, it was utterly ordinary. The space was more furnished than Oscar’s chambers, but that was due to the difference in personalities, not wealth. Tinasha swept her gaze around the area before venturing in deeper.
In the center of the bedroom sat a bed with a silk canopy. She walked right up to it and tore through the curtains with her sword. On the bed lay King Hubert’s soulless body, sustained by magic. Close inspection revealed that his chest was rising and falling.
“Ugh. What a conceited old fool,” Tinasha muttered. While she felt like lashing out, she didn’t have time for that. She began the search for the mirror; the only sound in the chamber the incapacitated man’s breathing.
The door opened, and Tinasha quickly looked over her shoulder to find Queen Gemma. Gasping, Tinasha began a spell instinctively but soon stopped herself. The queen was rooted to the floor, staring at the intruder with astonishment, and the light of reason in her eyes indicated that she was herself and not a controlled puppet.
As Gemma stood frozen, Tinasha faced her properly. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“I-I’m so sorry… The king…won’t listen to me…”
“I understand. I’m going to bring him back, but I need you to tell me where the mirror is. Do you know?”
Judging by the queen’s behavior, Hubert had probably informed her of everything after he’d chased Tinasha out under the guise of Lucia. Gemma was undoubtedly feeling extremely confused over everything. Her husband had taken over a witch’s body and mobilized the troops to attack the Great Nation next door. No wonder Queen Gemma looked like an exhausted shell of herself. Tinasha hadn’t known King Hubert prior to all of this, but Legis had described him as a normal sort of ruler. He would go down in history as a prime example of how too much power could change someone all too easily.
Gemma hesitated to answer, but she could likely sense Tinasha’s cutthroat determination. As her eyes quivered with fear, she pointed to the back of the chamber. “I-in that room…”
There was indeed a small door there, which Tinasha had dismissed as an entrance to a closet or the like. Nodding to the queen, Tinasha headed for it and broke the lock with magic. Sending some magic lights into the dark room, Tinasha stepped in and immediately discovered a stone pedestal draped with scarlet cashmere.
Atop the stand rested an ancient oval mirror that showed a dull reflection of the magic lights in the air. Tinasha gazed at it with trepidation.
An outsiders’ artifact, a thing that runs counter to all laws.
Knowing what she did now about these items, this looking glass seemed dreadfully unfathomable and terrifying.
Still, she couldn’t falter now. She drew a deep breath.
“Ah…”
Gemma breathed from behind Tinasha, voice trembling. Tinasha was about to warn the other queen to stand back for fear of danger when a burning heat seared her left flank. Tinasha was confused for a second before a sharp pain kicked in.
“Aaaahh!”
Reflexively, she doubled over. Pressing a hand to her side, she discovered a slender dagger, the sort concealed for self-defense, embedded deep in her torso. Gemma had stabbed Tinasha from behind, and she stared at the Queen of Tuldarr with eyes full of terror. Trembling, she managed to say, “If you release the witch…the king will…”
But that was all she got out before fleeing.
Tinasha couldn’t do a thing to stop Gemma. Her body was swiftly growing cold, and she collapsed to her knees in a puddle of blood.

The Tuldarr mages, stationed some distance away, stared in horror at the tornado that had abruptly formed on the grassy plain. Only a few knew that the king of Farsas stood before it.
The wielder of the royal sword, who was battling the witch in place of his fiancée, didn’t seem fazed at all as he watched the oncoming tornado.
“That one’s not a hallucination,” Oscar remarked.
“Doesn’t look like it,” agreed Eir, who was next to him. The spirit sounded just as emotionless and nonchalant as Oscar. Their conversation made it hard to believe they were up against a witch.
Giving Akashia a light swing, Oscar asked, “Can you get rid of it?”
“Hmm. Three or four of us should be able to. Give the order.”
“I don’t know everyone’s names, though. All right then, Mila, how about you pick the team for me?”
Mila wasn’t physically present, but her voice sounded in the air as she gave compliance. A few seconds later, the tornado dispersed.
Nark flew back over. The dragon had been keeping a safe distance from the tornado.
Across the field, now utterly still without so much as a breeze, Hubert’s eyes glinted with rage. “Queen’s spirits! How dare you insolent little monsters intervene! Show yourselves!”
“He seems pretty mad. You guys should retreat for now,” Oscar said in a blasé tone, and the spirits obeyed. Only Eir remained. Because Oscar was protected by an anti-magic barrier, almost all direct spells bounced off him. But he was still susceptible to psychological magic and the aftereffects of anything conjured. By this point, he had endured several illusions, all of which had been defeated by his unusually acute intuition.
“The hardest part is staying alive without killing him,” Oscar muttered as he held Akashia at the ready. When he glanced down at his beloved sword, he frowned to find that its hilt had become a white snake. The serpent raised its head to strike, but Oscar just gave it a careless shake. When he looked back at Hubert, he found three burning spheres heading for him.
Oscar leaped forward to evade the flames that singed the air as they sped past and blocked his escape. He thrust out with the sword, its hilt still a snake.
“Don’t you realize how many years I’ve had this?”
The sword destroyed the first fire sphere. Oscar took a step back and broke the other coming from the left as well. For the third, Oscar stabbed the length of Akashia into the flames to pierce and shatter the spell’s core.
Even if the entire sword looked like a snake, Oscar still knew the length, width, and weight of it.
But after dispatching the attacks with almost disappointing swiftness, Oscar felt his vision go dark, and he stopped where he was. The moonlight and the distant lights all died, leaving the plain in total darkness. Oscar cursed himself for having fallen into his enemy’s trap.
Then he reasoned, “Well, it’s kind of a fun challenge now that it’s dark.”
Closing his eyes for a moment, he recalled what Tinasha had told him—to not let his senses get too distant. They were his lifeline and his weapon.
Mocking laughter filled the darkness. “Do you enjoy the little world I’ve created?”
After heaving a disgusted sigh, Oscar readied Akashia—now back to normal—and took a step forward. “It’s pitch-black. But maybe it actually isn’t? Eir, are you there?”
Although the spirit had been beside Oscar moments earlier, there was no reply.
Oscar gave a light tap to the ground in front of him. It seemed solid. Then he sensed something and dodged a step to the left. Something sharp whizzed by.
He scratched his head with his off hand. “I just need to focus on not dying. That’ll be easy enough.”
“Easy? Have you lost your mind and deluded yourself into believing you can win?”
“I haven’t, so don’t worry about it,” Oscar retorted.
Taking it to be a bluff, Hubert let out a delighted laugh. “Allow me to show you the most traumatic memory of your youth.”
At the edge of the darkness, a light flared to life as though someone had lit a lantern. Oscar frowned, squinting at the sight. Then he slowly moved toward it.
In the light, a woman lay facedown in a pool of blood that oozed out from her onto the floor. Oscar approached his mother’s corpse and stared down at it. He didn’t know what expression his mother had worn when she’d died; he hadn’t seen it.
If he turned her over, he would learn. Oscar snorted at the deluded notion. This hallucination came from his own memories. It couldn’t include something he didn’t remember.
There was nothing to think about.
Oscar sharpened his vision to a fine point, then honed it even further. Amid the darkness, the faintest outlines of interlocking spells revealed themselves.
He took another step in, past his mother’s body, and swept Akashia through an empty spot in the air.
“Preposterous!” came an astonished shout. With a tinkling of shattering glass, the darkness ruptured.
The plains returned. Oscar found that Hubert was right in front of him, but high enough above to be out of Akashia’s reach.
“You may have called up a traumatic memory, but it’s part of the past now. Showing it to me means nothing, although I guess I do feel a bit disgusted. Once you’re back in your original body, I’m going to kill you.”
Hubert glanced down at the witch’s belly, where the tip of Akashia had grazed the skin. The moment Oscar had readied his blade, Hubert had fled instinctively, yet the cut had been too quick to evade completely.
Hubert’s arms were trembling. “Why, you little…horrid brat…”
“Go on, go on,” Oscar teased as he checked his off hand to ensure the ring Tinasha had given him was there.
Killing the witch wouldn’t be too difficult. However, that wasn’t Oscar’s intention, so he mulled over other possible actions as he looked to the sky.

The smell of her own blood filled her nostrils.
“Ugh…”
Tinasha held her breath and yanked the dagger from her side. Suppressing a groan, she cast anesthetic and healing spells on herself.
While Gemma had probably done it without realizing, she’d twisted the dagger as she thrust, causing an unexpected amount of hemorrhaging. Tinasha’s magic couldn’t do anything about the blood loss, but she had to carry on regardless.
Keeping a hand pressed to the freshly closed wound, Tinasha stood and approached the Mirror of Oblivion. She picked it up, careful not to peer into the artifact.
“Judging by how that queen reacted, this must be the real thing…”
All that remained was to take it or destroy it right here. Tinasha hoped to verify something first, though.
While channeling some of her magic through the looking glass, she asked, “Senn, can you hear me?”
The inside of the mirror felt like a bottomless pit. Tinasha’s magic kept sinking deeper and deeper with no end. That highly unusual sensation proved that the mirror was certainly no ordinary tool.
Valt had said to destroy it, but was that the right thing to do? Even if he wasn’t lying to Oscar, Valt could be wrong.
It wouldn’t do for Tinasha to delay; she had left the witch to Oscar and had to decide quickly.
Then her sunken magic reacted to something.
“Senn!” she cried, joy coloring her voice.
He really was inside it. The reaction was very weak, suggesting he was quite distant.
The mirror was a cage holding her spirit captive. Tinasha tried to apply pressure to the mirror’s exterior to see if it could be destroyed. But it didn’t yield, even when she increased the force. The artifact was abnormally sturdy. She had no choice but to withdraw her magic.
“This is going to be tough…”
Tinasha wavered for only one moment over what to do next.
She cast a barrier around the vicinity before pouring her power and consciousness into the mirror.
After closing her eyes, Tinasha expanded her magic to connect her own darkness to the looking glass’s depths. If this artifact was capable of capturing parts of the human psyche, then it had to be possible to enter it.
Careful not to detach her mind from her body, she spread her consciousness out further as she lowered a thread into the bottomless gloom—a thread that was her very soul.
No sooner did she make the attempt than her magic bumped up against a ward inside the mirror. The spell configuration, different from the one placed on the looking glass itself, forbade outside entry. The spell was so exquisitely crafted that Tinasha almost began to admire it.
“Can I break it? I suppose I have to.”
Tinasha explored the configuration, which resembled a fine mesh net. Conceptual entities like high-ranking demons could probably slip through it easily, explaining how Senn had gotten by.
All that Tinasha, a human, could do was hurriedly search for the spell’s cores.
There were twelve of them arranged in a circle. After identifying the cores, she focused her energy on them and exhaled all the breath in her body.
Then she took a deep breath and held it.
“Disperse.”
A short word was all it took to break the foundation of the spell configuration to pieces.
Then Tinasha’s consciousness descended into the darkness alone, a darkness that was very long and seemingly unending.
But it was only a few moments before she reached the bottom, landing in a place that was utter darkness. A familiar voice called out, “My queen!”
“Senn! Oh, I’m so glad.” Tinasha let out a sigh of sheer relief, but she couldn’t lose focus here. Tersely, she demanded, “Tell me what’s going on. Outside, Magdalsia is attacking Tuldarr, and the Witch of the Forbidden Forest seems to be behind it. She’s battling Oscar now.”
“The Witch of the Forbidden Forest? But she’s right here.”
“Ah, so the real one really is in the mirror. King Hubert of Magdalsia is in control of her body at the moment,” Tinasha informed him.
Although Senn was only a presence she could sense, she could feel him scowling. “He’s the one who used the mirror. It must have separated his soul from his body, but then his soul bounced off the barrier and went into Lucrezia’s instead.”
“Lucrezia?”
“The Witch of the Forbidden Forest.”
That must have been her real name. Tinasha peered into the darkness. “Is she here now? How did she end up here?”
“She’s asleep. Judging from the barrier’s spell configuration, she likely put it up herself. She locked the mirror away with herself inside it. I sensed her when the seal came undone and went to check on her. When I did, I slipped through the barrier and got myself trapped inside the looking glass. Sorry for disappearing,” Senn explained.
“Travis did say that these artifacts don’t get along too well with high-ranking demons,” Tinasha remarked.
Senn fell silent at his lady’s mention of the demon king. Undoubtedly, he wore a look of disgust.
Now the problem lay with the witch Lucrezia. Was it right for Tinasha to destroy the mirror with the witch sleeping inside it?
While Tinasha waffled over what to do, Senn said, “She’s right over there. If you can’t see her, I’ll let you look through my eyes.”
At that statement, the darkness lifted. While Tinasha’s surroundings didn’t grow brighter, she could see around her. Senn was standing nearby, and the many other entities she detected had to be souls absorbed by the mirror, already partially destroyed. Farther beyond was a gigantic pillar that caught Tinasha’s attention.
It was about as thick around as a dozen adults holding hands in a ring. It stretched so high that the top of it wasn’t visible, while its base plunged through a hole in the darkness down into the depths.
The pillar itself emitted a faint white glow. Inside it floated a girl hugging her knees to her chest with her eyes closed.
“Is that…the witch?”
Her light-brown curly hair and beautiful face were reminiscent of Lucia’s, but their ages were disparate. The sleeping girl in a pale-green dress couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen.
As she was locked inside a translucent pillar, she clearly wasn’t an ordinary human. Tinasha felt a twinge of uneasiness to behold her.
Senn nodded. “When her soul separated from her body, it returned to the shape closest to her true essence. That pillar isn’t native to the artifact. It’s here to protect her.”
“To protect her?” Tinasha repeated quietly, approaching the column cautiously. She craned her head up and tilted it down to observe how it stretched endlessly in both directions. A hole surrounded the edges of the pillar. She couldn’t tell how far she would drop if she fell into it.