The True Nature of the Aura
Isabelle’s eyes sparkled like the night sky. “Let me say it once more, Rood. Your aura is not simply a restorative force.”
“It possesses the property of rewinding.”
Rood answered without thinking. “That can’t be right, can it?”
Aura was the power to manifest one’s will. Reproducing that will usually demanded endless repetition and refinement. For that reason, an aura inevitably took on the color of its user’s thoughts, habits, and chosen weapon.
Swordsmen tended to embody the concept of cutting. Moneck, who wielded a rapier, had internalized penetration. The aura archer Rood had just encountered had a bow as his main weapon, so his aura manifested as a rebounding force.
It’s not that I don’t regret the past.
But I have no desire to return to it.
No matter how many moments he wished he could undo, Rood had never truly wanted to go back. He might be lying if he claimed he didn’t wish to return to the moment before Dale died, yet even that longing had never been something he wanted to repeat.
Even if every aura is unique, can it really manifest like this?
The manifestation of aura varied according to the user, but the process of its formation was supposed to follow common principles. The secret manual Rood had obtained by chance had contained a similar passage.
Aura takes the shape of what is most familiar and most deeply desired.
That was why he had immediately rejected Isabelle’s theory.
“Still, look at the form your aura has taken.”
Rood turned his head. The round, boyish eyes from before had become sharper, more mature. Within them, purple irises that gleamed like the night sky still shone with undiminished light. Her lips were fuller and redder than before, and below her neck was a woman so mature it was hard to believe she was Isabelle. She held him tightly in her arms.
When Rood felt his face growing hot, he tried to step half a pace away from her. But Isabelle closed the distance at once, so he couldn’t manage it.
“It seems you’ve returned me to the way I looked right after the knighting ceremony—when you briefly released your aura.”
“Isn’t it just your appearance that changed?”
“No. I have noticed that the energy in my body shifts ever so slightly each time. So I believe this is correct.”
“Then if I infuse you with my aura every day, couldn’t you live without any elixirs at all?”
Rood voiced the obvious possibility, but Isabelle shook her head.
“Three reasons make that impossible.”
“What are they?”
Isabelle raised her index finger.
“First, it would not cure my congenital illness—it would merely postpone it. That is not true treatment.”
She extended her middle finger beside the first.
“Second, the time it takes to rewind is slower than the rate at which your aura accumulates. An aura usually fills completely in three days, yet even if you pour everything into me, you can only rewind a single day.”
Finally, she raised her ring finger as well.
“Third, even if you postpone the inevitable, if you leave yourself with no strength to protect me, what else is there but an easy death at the hands of outside forces?”
Isabelle lived under constant threat of assassination. Whenever Rood left her side or went to sleep, Pete would take over her guard, or additional soldiers would stand watch and patrols would be strengthened. If Rood exhausted every drop of his aura to rewind her condition and left nothing with which to protect her, it would be the perfect opportunity for those who sought to kill her.
“As expected, things never resolve easily. I understand.”
Rood scratched his head. “But I still don’t understand why my aura has the rewinding property.”
“I am not so well-versed in aura that I can give you an easy answer. Still, it seems there are quite a few ways it could be applied.”
“Simply rewinding things doesn’t seem very useful in combat.”
Most aura users wrapped their blades in aura, assimilated the surrounding air to launch formless sword strikes, or wielded invisible blades in the air. Yet if Rood tried to cut an enemy with his own aura, the best he could hope for was that the foe wouldn’t heal from the wound.
“I see it differently,” Isabelle said. “The ability to avoid fatal injuries is already tremendous. Could you not also rewind an enemy’s movements?”
Rood’s mind spun at her words. If he could pour his aura into an opponent and return their actions to the moment before they swung their sword, he would be able to subdue them with ease.
“Above all, you are my knight. If I suffer a mortal wound, there is still the possibility that I could survive thanks to you, is there not?”
Rood’s aura did not heal only its user. It could restore others he had assimilated as well, returning them to an earlier state.
Yet Rood let out a low groan and raised his hand.
“Hm? What are you curious about?”
“Two things.”
Rood continued, “First, is it truly possible to rewind an enemy’s movements? And second—”
He lowered his gaze and sighed.
“—how do I rewind only their movements?”
“Ah.”
Isabelle’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t considered that. Even if his aura could rewind motion, whether it could affect only the motion itself was still unknown. If he drove an enemy to the brink of death and used a secret technique to bind their movements, the result might simply be that the foe recovered from their mortal wound—just as Rood had done. What meaning would there be in sealing their movements after healing them?
“W-well, couldn’t we learn that gradually through training?”
Isabelle grew flustered and tried to list the positive aspects of Rood’s aura, but he found it difficult to accept.
“Like rewinding burnt meat to the perfect medium-rare stage, or turning back a delicious dessert so there’s still more than one bite left…”
“Are those supposed to be good examples?”
When Rood sighed, Isabelle closed her mouth and studied his expression carefully.
“In any case, it’s difficult to control and I have no idea how I should even train it.”
“How about starting by cutting a straw dummy and then restoring it?”
Rood nodded at her suggestion. “I’ll try that for now.”
“And you’re using formal speech again!”
“I got it… so just back off a little.”
To escape the sensation that had been bothering him, Rood gently pushed Isabelle’s shoulders.
“Besides, am I the only one who has to speak casually? You should talk that way too.”
“Th-this way of speaking is a habit. I can’t help it. And I am clearly the acting head of the family—how could I apply the same standard to you?”
“So you really are a rotten noble through and through.”
“Wh-what? Take that back this instant!”
Isabelle tried to grab him, but Rood caught her wrist instead, preventing her from moving properly.
“Let go! I told you to speak casually, not to insult me!”
“You said to talk more comfortably. This is how I normally speak. Don’t like it? Then beg me to go back to formal speech.”
Still holding her wrist, Rood moved his feet in time with her struggling. The two of them slowly spun in a circle, facing each other.
“Wh-what is this? I said let go…”
Isabelle’s face flushed as she stared into Rood’s eyes. He gazed back at her, his own face equally red.
As I thought. I don’t want to give up.
He had resolved himself many times, yet every time Isabelle’s restraint slipped, that resolve crumbled easily. The difference between noble and commoner, the fact that he was her bodyguard knight—none of it seemed to matter. No, he didn’t want it to matter.
If Isabelle would simply stay before him. If she wouldn’t leave, if they could keep turning like this forever, hand in hand.
“Mommy!”
When Isabelle nearly fell, Rood caught her waist with one hand. Her face turned even redder, like a sky at sunset. Seeing her trembling eyes, Rood belatedly regretted his actions.
Damn it. If only my aura could rewind time as well.
Rood let out a short sigh. No matter how powerful an aura was, it could not turn back time.
“Then I’ll be going to train. I’ll see you later.”
“Y-yes…”
Rood put strength into the hand supporting her waist and helped her stand properly. He gave her a simple salute, closed the door to the office behind him, and stepped out.
Get a hold of yourself. There’s a mountain of things I need to do.
Rood rubbed his flushed face several times. He had to think coldly and rationally.
Let’s start with what Isabelle mentioned.
He headed for the training grounds. Once more, he would swing his sword and search for a path forward.
Five days passed.
Rood climbed into the carriage that had been prepared since early morning. Three carriages of identical design stood in a line, and he boarded the one at the very rear.
Inside, Isabelle was already seated in traveling clothes, gazing out the window.
“Are we leaving right away?”
“Yes. Let us depart.”
At Rood’s signal, the three carriages began moving at once. The wheels rolled forward with a rumble, and the interior shook.
Feeling the carriage jolt beneath him, Rood instinctively understood.
His duty as Isabelle’s bodyguard knight had truly begun.