Catalyst (1)
Lately, her sleep had grown a little longer.
It truly was only a little, but it had proven more of an ordeal than she'd expected. This body, born with Heavenly Might, stayed perfectly fine through days and nights without rest — wanting to sleep and being able to were two different things. When she did lie down hoping to drift off, she ended up staring blankly at the ceiling far longer than she actually slept.
Still, her sleep had increased, a little at that. But she could not dream. Drott. Elaine's last dream had stopped there.
"This is maddening."
She had never been one to dream, as a rule. The recent past was the exception. Why?
"Do I need to be tired first?"
As if. In her entire life, Elaine could count on one hand the times she'd felt fatigue. Hers was that kind of body. Save perhaps the day she'd faced the patchwork magic beast, there had never been another day exhaustion touched her.
And yet the dreams hadn't come only on the day of the patchwork beast. Fatigue and dreaming had nothing to do with each other.
What would it take to dream again?
Truthfully, it wasn't as though nothing came to mind.
"...Harad, was it?"
Ever since meeting Harad, Elaine had begun to dream now and then. And Harad had appeared in every single one of those dreams.
"That could be it."
The first of his kind she had ever laid eyes on. A magician, at that. Everything she had experienced with Harad had been new, one and all — so new it would have been stranger if none of it surfaced in her dreams.
Meeting Kubel and Shura had been an unfamiliar, singular experience as well. A magician for a father, an ordinary daughter for a child — hardly a common arrangement, was it? So it stood to reason they would appear in her dreams too. And since Harad had been the reason she met them at all, that was no stranger either.
"Drott."
But that damned Drott was the problem. Drott, where Shura had died. Drott, where Kubel had meant to move. Of all the names in the world, it had to match.
"And I'm supposed to call that a meaningless dream?"
Dreams, they say, are the unconscious made manifest. Had it been Serzilla, or any of the empire's great domains, perhaps — but Drott was a name Elaine had never once heard in her life. Something Elaine did not know had risen from her unconscious.
She had even wondered if it was magic, but there was no chance of that. Magic was a vague, boundless thing, yet that vagueness was chained to the Origin. Harad's Sun had nothing to do with dreams.
Which meant there was nothing else to grasp at.
"How stifling."
Whether it was coincidence or not, she would only know by dreaming — and she could not dream. Not that she could spend the whole day asleep. Her body was incapable of it, and Elaine was a busy woman besides.
Having changed into her training attire, Elaine headed straight for the training grounds. It was a place she knew by heart, yet somehow it felt more familiar still. Because she had seen it in her dreams, no doubt.
One person was there: Moresz Palaz. Elaine's swordsmanship master, and one of Serzilla's Sword Masters.
"Sorry I'm late."
Elaine greeted him with a smile.
"...What's the occasion?"
"You can say that again. First time I've overslept in ages."
Moresz's expression was subtly off. Elaine took it for a reaction to her tardiness.
"I meant, what brings you out here at all."
It wasn't.
"It has been ten days."
"Hm?"
"Ten days since you last showed your face to me, my lord."
"...Has it been that long already?"
Elaine's expression soured. Ten days. Come to think of it, that was exactly how long it had been since Kubel entered the Inner Castle.
"And what have you been doing all this while?"
"Things came up."
Over the past ten days she had used Arika to weed out the remnants who threatened Shura, and in doing so had grown closer to the girl. In other words, it had been a busy and deeply fulfilling stretch of time.
"It would appear it was not your work as the Grand Duke's heir."
"..."
Elaine could not refute him. The past ten days had been personal time.
"I acknowledge the talent you were born with, my lord. You have grasped everything there is to grasp; there is nothing left for me to teach."
"..."
"Which is why I understand your vanishing partway through lessons."
Moresz was earnest. Even with nothing left to teach, he was, unmistakably, Elaine's master.
"But, my lord — are you aware? This is the first time you have ever failed to attend. Ten days, no less."
He wasn't wrong. She had been late plenty of times, slipped out mid-lesson plenty more, but she had never once skipped entirely.
"Might you be growing lax of late?"
...Me?
Ten days.
The news that a new magician had entered the Inner Castle had long since spread everywhere it could. The stir was smaller than expected — because the one who had brought Kubel in was that same Harad.
"Is that magician strong too?"
"Wouldn't he have to be? He's built like Commander Toremote of the 1st Knight Order."
Because Harad had already won the 1st Knight Order's recognition. A man who had bested three knights single-handedly.
Not a magician — a powerhouse, they say.
Recalling the maids' chatter he'd overheard on a stroll, Harad let out a hollow laugh. If the North was going to be the North, this was it. Serzilla truly was something else. There was likely no place on the continent where magicians were regarded with this much respect.
Of course, none of it would be possible without the backing of Grand Duke Aratus's guarantee. And that guarantee itself would be unthinkable anywhere else on the continent.
My footing is still shaky, though.
The 1st Knight Order's endorsement carried weight only among the servants. With the other knight orders, he would have to earn recognition on his own — just as he had with the 1st. It would not be so difficult. Grand Duke Aratus would be handing him a new mission before long, and that mission would give him the occasion to earn the other orders' recognition.
Like the Great Wall sketch.
Even if it turned out to be nothing of the sort, it hardly mattered. What Harad needed was a pretext. So long as he had a pretext for contact with the knight orders, recognition could be won whenever he pleased.
How leisurely. Is he giving me time to rest? Or time for Shura to settle in?
Either way, there was no mistaking it for anything but the Grand Duke's consideration. Indifference, after all, could be a form of consideration in its own way. Thanks to that, daily life had turned monotonous — partly because Ellen did not covet the 2nd Boundary.
She wanted to go, and yet she was biting it back with the thought: I am the Grand Duke's heir. Because if disaster struck, Serzilla would lose its successor.
So she does think things through.
Harad found it unexpected, and was moved all the same. And before such a Harad, Kubel was grimacing like a man taking a dump.
"How does it look? What do you see? In your mind's eye, I mean."
"Smoke...? There is smoke, and, um, it's about the size of the first floor of this building."
Harad offered his own Sun as an example. His Sun was roughly the size of the heir's residence.
"Size is merely an index of your mana reserves. It tells us little about your Origin."
Mana was nourishment. The more mana an Origin consumed, the more it grew — but the concept of the Origin itself never changed. However much a flame grew, it could never become the Sun.
"What matters is the Origin itself. Describe the smoke for me — its density, its form."
Kubel explained his Origin in fits and starts. Beside Harad, Ellen was eating the lunch Kubel had prepared, her expression, for some reason, blank.
"Something the matter?"
"...No."
"Your face says otherwise."
It wasn't just her face — her appetite was failing her too. Ellen was picking listlessly at her food, quite unlike herself.
"Speak freely. It might help, who knows."
"..."
Ellen deliberated a moment, then opened her mouth.
"What if I—"
Just then, someone knocked at the door. Ellen tucked herself out of sight, and Harad, who had been teaching Kubel, went and opened it.
"So this is where you were, Harad."
The voice beyond the door was deep and booming. A voice she knew. Ellen knew every one of Serzilla's knights by voice alone.
"Been a while, Tresten. How's the body?"
It was Tresten of the 1st Knight Order. Tresten — the man Harad had once left half-crippled.
"Thanks to you, my ribs have thickened. Skin's grown tougher, too."
"That shouldn't be possible."
"It's true. Feel for yourself."
"I'll pass."
Tresten laughed heartily. Not a trace of bitterness over his defeat lingered anywhere on him — one of the North's more admirable qualities.
"What brings you today? Gulen was by yesterday."
And so the 1st Knight Order had taken to calling on Harad every few days. That, too, had become one more strand in the newly woven routine.
Tresten pulled something out from within his heavy coat.
"A rock?"
"No ordinary rock."
The rock was shaped like a star.
"It does look rather precious."
"Doesn't it? Found it in front of the Great Wall. Figured it might be magic, so I brought it along. Is it magic?"
"It's plain trash. Just take it back with you."
"Figured as much."
Satisfied, Tresten tossed the rock straight out into the yard — the same yard where Gulen had discarded a strangely shaped tree branch two days prior. That was why the 1st Knight Order kept coming around. Whenever they stumbled on something strange or out of the ordinary, their first instinct was to carry it to Harad. They had come to acknowledge not only his martial strength, but his knowledge as a magician as well.
"Was that the whole of your business?"
"It was. Come by the garrison soon. The Commander wants you along on the Boundary search operation."
"I'll head up when I find the time."
Tresten left without so much as a backward glance. Closing the door, Harad sat back down beside Ellen.
"Forgive the interruption. Go on."
"It's all right. I'll go check on Shura."
No sooner had Harad sat down than Ellen rose and left the annex. Harad gestured after her retreating back and looked at Kubel.
"You. Did you do something wrong while I was gone?"
"...Wouldn't the cause be more likely you than me, Harad?"
"Me?"
Shura had begun stepping beyond the Inner Castle three days prior. It was right after the last of the Liberation Magic Tower's Rebel Faction remnants that Arika had tracked down had been dealt with, and Ellen had chosen that moment to introduce Shura to the alley children.
"Shura's the prettiest!"
"I said that first."
"Shura says she doesn't like you."
Just as Ellen had predicted, the children took to Shura at once. Within a single day she was the most beloved child in the alley — though word had it there wasn't a boy in particular she fancied. The children ran about playing knight with slender branches in hand, and Shura was their princess. Look closely around that princess, and a number of stiff-moving men came into view: soldiers of the guard's third squad.
Ellen watched for a while as Shura mingled merrily with the soldiers guarding her, then moved on. Her destination was the Information Bureau's inner quarters, where Arika opened the door as though she had been waiting all along.
"Welcome, Ellen."
"You've been working hard."
Arika had been posted to the empire's western reaches three years ago and had only now returned — because Ellen had summoned her.
"It was nothing."
Three years ago or now, Arika hadn't changed a bit. Stiff as ever, and the loyalty glimpsed beneath that stiffness was as humbling as ever to receive. At times, it was almost a weight.
"How are things with the Liberation Tower?"
"No additional intelligence has come in. That said, there have been no intruders of late."
Arika pressed on as though she'd been waiting to.
"We are searching the territory for anyone who may have hidden themselves here in advance. As for the Rebel Faction's mages, I have lodged requests with our agents scattered across the continent."
The former would take time, and the latter should not be hoped for too much — so Arika added. The Liberation Tower was a clandestine order that had survived by slipping the eyes of the empire and the Church.
"And Iagar?"
"...It will likely be delayed."
Arika said it, looking sheepish.
"The Church has planted its flag in Iagar."
Meaning the Church had occupied it. Iagar had been attacked by a magician and reduced to ash by that magic.
"The information we can obtain is limited."
"I need all of it. I'm counting on you."
Ellen wanted to know everything about Harad, down to the smallest trifle. Only then, she believed, could she bring herself to trust him even as the Grand Duke's heir.
"And the tunnel-digger?"
The magician who took outside contracts digging tunnels that reached the Boundary.
"...Nothing yet."
Arika's face wavered — a rare occurrence. Ellen noticed there was something she wanted to say.
"You may say it."
"Forgive my presumption, but... I have doubts that this 'tunnel-digger' magician exists."
A magician, digging tunnels beneath Serzilla's earth? Arika found it hard to believe. Even knowing the tunnels were real.
"Then who do you suppose dug those tunnels?"
"That is..."
Arika could not answer. Ignorance of magic — that was why, Ellen thought. She had been exactly the same before she met Harad.
"The tunnel-digger does exist. We have to find that magician."
The tunnel-digger had first been spoken of by Harad, but Ellen was certain it was true. The tunnels were an escape route for magicians. Who but a magician could manage such a thing?
"...Understood."
At the certainty in Ellen's voice, Arika nodded. That the nod was a reluctant one, Ellen noticed as well.
"Do you not trust me?"
"I do. Only... I heard the source of the intelligence was that magician."
She meant Harad. Arika had called Harad a magician.
"I wonder if you might not be... bewitched by that magician. My apologies. That was out of line."
"..."
Lax? Bewitched?
Me?
Elaine let out a hollow laugh. Keeping company with Harad was nothing more than a diversion — Harad was, in the truest sense, a stimulating plaything. Without him, she would never have known the tunnels or the Boundary beyond them. She would never have known the lovely Shura, nor that Kubel's cooking was so damnably good.
Everything with Harad had been a stimulus to Ellen. The sort of stirring experiences she likely would never have tasted in a lifetime lived only as Elaine. That was all. Elaine had always kept the two apart. She had never once carried Ellen's affairs into Elaine's, nor neglected her duties as the heir. The body she had been born with made that possible.
The time spent as Ellen had grown — not because she had slackened on the tasks assigned to her from birth, but because she had cut back on sleep.
Training?
That paltry training was of no help whatsoever. The only reason she had shown her face at all was out of respect for Moresz Palaz, who had appointed himself her master. Cold as it was to say, there was nothing left for her to learn. Setting aura aside, Elaine's swordsmanship surpassed Moresz Palaz's. What Elaine needed was real combat — real combat, which Serzilla did not provide. And Harad had provided it. So what reason was there to attend training?
"..."
The investigation into the Rebel Faction was for Shura's safety. The reinvestigation of Harad was so that she might trust him as the Grand Duke's heir. The Grand Duke had chosen him, yes — but Harad was a magician. How could anyone trust such a magician at a glance? Trust required time. The intelligence on Iagar was merely one step within that span of time.
The tunnel-digger? He was a pest who had to be run to ground. She could hardly stand by while a magician burrowed through Serzilla's underbelly as he pleased — and that, too, was Elaine's charge.
"So what, exactly, is the problem?"
Every last one of them had a fitting reason. Elaine could not understand what Moresz and Arika had said. No — truthfully, she did. What they were pointing at was not her reasons, but the change in her. That her respect had worn away; that she had taken an interest in a magician she ought to be shunning. As if to ask whether that was right.
Even that, Elaine could not understand. How was yearning for the next realm of mastery "growing lax"? Her respect for Moresz Palaz gnawed at her like moths at cloth — given the choice between showing her face at joyless training and crawling through tunnels, the latter was the road to growth.
Harad? He was a man the Grand Duke had approved from the very start. Kubel and Shura had even been granted an annex in the Inner Castle. ...She was doing her best to accept what His Grace had accepted — how did that make her bewitched? The 1st Knight Order already all but depended on Harad.
"What do you want from me, then."
Elaine lit cigarette after cigarette. Every time she drew out a new one, Kubel came to mind; every time she lit it, Harad did.
"My lord."
Just then, someone knocked at the door.
"It is the 2nd Knight Commander."
Knight Commander Cassion of the 2nd Order.
"I have something I wish to say to you concerning the magician."
...Why on earth is he so desperate to eat me alive?