Tidings
"...Isn't this a bit much?"
...
Wounds of every sort showed on her head — wounds dealt by my own two hands. A thin thread of blood ran from the corner of her lip, her hair hung in wild disarray, and as she rubbed at the lump risen on the crown of her head, her lips jutted out in a full-blown pout. Yet she offered no real complaint, which suggested she knew, at least in some part, that the fault was hers. For a human, patience might come cheaply. For one of dragonkind, it was never an easy virtue.
"...What do you take me for?"
...
"It is only that many among my kin are arrogant. Not all of us are."
...
"Arrogant I certainly am, of course — but I have no intention of quibbling over wrongs I committed first."
Her horns surfaced once more, and her pupils split into long vertical slits. In a space where not a single breath of wind stirred, her ash-gray hair swayed, one strand at a time.
"Well, regardless.. you passed my test. My test, which nearly every living thing refused and recoiled from."
...
"What matters is the result — and you overcame it. Which is to say, you have earned the right to wield my power."
Her torn wings unfurled with a beautiful rush of sound, and her voice began, once more, to sound like the cry of a beast — the kind that raises a chill across every inch of the body.
"Ah, this is the song of fire.
The blaze, burning and burning, spreads to every living thing—
though you cast yourself into the river,
the fire clinging to your flesh will never go out.
The mouse that sank beneath the water sings,
and its scalding screams boil even the river itself."
"Ah, this is the song of rain.
Each time the song ends, one more fire gutters out—
the rain falls, the river cools,
the fire dies, and the screams fall silent.
Yet the curtain of that song was soaked through at last, and torn.
The mouse that burned was dead as well,
and on the cooled banks no water remained.
What was left, in the end, was a handful of ash—
only black and pale ash, drenched in rain and fire."
...
"There. Done."
Her appearance returned to normal. No horns — no wings, even — just the ordinary shape of a human girl. And in place of that low, growling rumble, the thin, delicate voice of a young girl.
"...What was it you just did?"
"Nothing much. Think of it as something like the holy sign you humans trace."
Saying so, she came toward me. Her hand, to be precise.
"...?!"
"Ah — hold still."
Her hand made for my clothes, seized the back of my collar, and flipped it aside to bare my nape. I opened my mouth to demand what she thought she was doing, but her finger was pointing at something — a crest, sunk into the nape of my neck at who knows when, giving off a faint wisp of smoke.
"...What is this?"
"A crest marking you as my vassal. Even most of dragonkind won't dare disregard it."
...
"And with that, you have become my vassal. You'll be able to wield our tongue — Dragon Speech — as you please now, and its efficiency won't even be comparable to before."
...
"But don't go overindulging in it. That mark only grants you the qualification, nothing more."
"...?"
"Ha.. I mean use it only as far as that body of yours can endure. Your body is human, not dragon."
By her account, the crest was, at its heart, permission — sanction to use Dragon Speech and live. It meant that even other dragons who laid eyes on it would not kill me, would simply let the matter pass. The considerable boost in efficiency was a bonus on top. And best of all, I need never again worry about this body being stolen out from under me — no side effects to fret over, in other words. But that changed nothing about the strain the power heaped upon human flesh, and so her final instruction was to use it in moderation.
"And one more thing — don't ever come back here. Try to return even once more, and this time you may well die for real."
"...Understood."
"Listen to that voice. Still haven't gotten over being angry?"
...
"Heh. Well, I am sorry — so as a courtesy, I'll send you back the quick way."
"...What?"
"Go well, and live well. And don't come again. You are my vassal now, after all."
She gave my chest a light shove, and my body drifted backward. One step back — and there was no floor. The ground that should surely have been behind me could not be felt at all. The moment my gaze tipped backward, she waved her hand at me. A faint smile on her lips. A sad smile I felt I might never see anywhere else in any world.
"...!"
"Eek!!"
The instant I opened my eyes and tried to sit up, my head cracked against something.
"Y-Young Master?!"
"...Ella."
Ella was beside me, clutching her forehead, staring at me with eyes gone enormous. The shadows beneath them lay dark and deep, as though she had not slept a single minute of the night; her hair hung in disarray; and in one hand she still gripped a towel soaked through with water. Not knowing what to say first, I only looked at her in silence — and from those bright, alert eyes a single tear welled up, clear as a glass bead.
"Y-Young Master, are you all right?!"
"...Yeah, I think I'm f—"
"Hello?!! Anybody!!"
My heart softened at her choked, trembling voice — but only for a moment. She flung the wet towel from her hand and bolted from the room. Before long, several knights and elves came hurrying back in carrying medicine and bandages. Ella with them.
"Ooh, human — truly awake at last?!"
"..Haha, what a relief. A true relief!!"
"You are still a patient for now, human. Rest is essential."
They examined me from head to foot, swapping out my poultices and dressings. Their effusive welcome at the mere sight of me — as though I were some exalted personage — felt impossibly awkward. I was still failing to adjust to the unfamiliar cheers and admiration aimed my way when someone else stepped into the room. She, who still carried the scent of the living forest about her.
"Good to see you on your feet."
"..Princess, what brings you all the way here—"
"Do not strain yourself. Stay where you lie — your muscles will be stiff, having only just woken."
Sylvia Restonil. The princess of the elves. The moment she entered the room, the elves — and even the knights — knelt and rendered her their courtesies. Naturally I made to do the same, but she stepped into my path and stopped me.
"Elves. No — I will not have the benefactor of us all bowing his head to the likes of me."
...
It was a dangerous remark. At least, in a room with imperial knights in it. For she, holding the station of an elven princess, was declaring her intent to show favor to me — a man who, on paper, was a commoner. Yet she seemed not the least bit concerned with any of that. As if, just now, I were the only thing in the world that mattered.
"We struck a bargain, did we not? A Spirit Stone, in return for your granting one request of mine."
...
"Let that be as though it never was. The Spirit Stone I shall simply give."
...
"Your saving us alone was worth more than any single favor. And should you desire anything else, speak freely — whatever it may be, it is yours."
The words had scarcely left her before she bowed her head. From behind her rose the flustered murmurs of the other elves, but she paid them no mind. If anything, each time such sounds reached her ears, she only bowed her head deeper still.
"Truly — truly, I am grateful."
...
"And take this as well."
From her breast she produced a single small leaf. To look at, it resembled the leaf I had received from Plante — but what lay within it was wholly different. Upon that one impossibly verdant leaf, letters glittering like blue sapphire were inlaid in intricate detail, like the lines of a magic circle. As though the leaf itself were a language, and a sigil.
"P-Princess, that—!"
"Surely even that is a step too far—!"
"Silence."
The petty grumbling of the few elves still kneeling behind her she cut off at once — with a look that found them utterly pitiful.
"Are you dolts still so drunk on your own superiority that you cannot come to your senses?"
"N-no.."
"Th-that is not—!"
"Then hold your tongues — if you wish to preserve the lives that were saved at such pains."
Presently she turned to me again, her voice and expression now wholly different from a moment before. And drawing from her breast another leaf, identical to the one she had given me, she continued.
"That is the Primeval Leaf — a thing only the royalty of the elves may carry."
"..Why would you give such a thing to me—"
"There is a tale that the elders of old once bestowed it upon the benefactors of our kind — together with the decree that whoever bore this leaf be treated with the deepest reverence."
...
"There is no one but you who deserves to receive it. I would be glad if you would accept."
Once more she bowed her head to me, brief and deep, offered her thanks, and withdrew — and with that, the matter was closed. What remained to me now was—
"Young Master.. you really are all right, aren't you?"
"..Yeah. Weren't you right there beside me a moment ago?"
"R-really..?"
— nothing more than soothing Ella, who still sniffled beside the bed where I lay.
I stroked Ella's hair and asked after everything that had happened outside. Whether the restoration of the Great Forest was proceeding. What had become of that thing I had been carrying. Whether anything else had come up in the meantime. We traded such small, idle talk for a while — until Ella clapped her hands once, as though something had just occurred to her. Then she began to tremble, faintly, as if anxious over something, and looked up at me with eyes that put me in mind of an enormous pet dog.
"Y..Young Master.."
"What is it? Did something go wrong somewhere?"
"W..well.."
"Tell me, Ella."
"While you were unconscious.. someone said to be the Empire's diplomatic envoy came and went."
"..That hardly sounds like anything gone wrong. And I can't imagine you committed any particular rudeness."
The Empire and the elves had, to put it unkindly, at least forged amicable ties — so whether the man had come to take stock of conditions and offer aid, or to slip in through the crack of the moment, the visit of an envoy itself struck me as nothing out of the ordinary.
"B..but, umm.."
"...?"
"There was a message I was told to deliver to you.."
"What is it?"
"That His Majesty.. the Emperor.. wishes to meet with you.."
It was then that I understood. This was, by any measure, completely insane.