Echoes

My consciousness, which had been swimming through a world of fantasy, drifted back into place.

The body that had been trembling with bliss and exhilaration suddenly reeled under a wave of fear and distant, unfocused dread.

Doubt and impatience brought heat to my skin, and curiosity opened up a hollow ache in my stomach.

For a brief moment, nausea surged up—then vanished.

I could barely hear anything around me.

For a long while, the trembling wouldn’t stop, and the focus of my awareness kept slipping away, then snapping back.

At last, I came to my senses.

The repeating voice tickled my ears.

The auxiliary AI kept spewing error messages as though it were reciting a spell.

Forcing open my stubbornly closed eyes, I found myself plastered against a wall.

Feeling along it with a hand that seemed to have lost all sensation, I realized that what I had thought was a wall was actually the floor.

The sound of wind battering against a window came faintly from somewhere far away. There was the smell of dust, settled thickly on the floor.

Only then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did reality begin to return.

“Ugh….”

It felt as if someone had turned my sense of self inside out from head to toe.

I remembered gripping the rune stone tightly, but after that, almost nothing came back to me.

The sea of mystery, the burning land, and the giant.

It had seemed to speak to me about something, but I couldn’t recall a single word of it. Irritated, I let out a groan without thinking.

Well. I should probably get up first.

With that settled, I moved my hands and feet.

Their motions were comical, writhing like a puppet with cut strings.

My limbs sagged uselessly, like a sopping wad of tissue, as I forced myself upright.

I managed to raise my torso, turn my body, and sit on the floor at last.

“I said I heard you. Shut up.”

“....”

Only after I silenced the ringing in my ears could I give my full attention to my own body.

First of all, my head hurt.

From my brain to my temples, there wasn’t a single place that didn’t ache, as if someone had taken a hammer and carefully struck me in several places, several times over.

And every so often, a stabbing pain flared up, as though something were piercing straight through me and splitting me apart.

As if that weren’t enough, my eyes hurt too, like insects had been gnawing at them with tiny, rasping mandibles.

I clutched my head and got to my feet.

My body swayed, difficult to steady. Beyond the window, I could see the world outside, now swallowed completely by darkness.

In the glass, a glimpse of a girl looked back at me with an expression of utter dismay, her orange and blue eyes fixed on mine.

Eyes.

“…I’m not even surprised anymore.”

The instant I registered my changed eyes, the racket of pain inside them vanished all at once.

Not only that, but something strange was reaching my fingertips.

If I had to put it into words, it felt like a light tapping at the ends of my fingers. Without thinking, I flicked my hand through the air, and a translucent current appeared where nothing had been visible before.

Even without anyone teaching me, I understood it instinctively.

Mana—what was now called mystery, the invisible energy.

I could see it moving now in time with my hand.

When I moved my hand this way and that, the mystery roiled in response. I could feel its texture at my fingertips, as though I were cutting through water.

Watching it made my excitement rise hot and bright, like a child who had just discovered a new toy.

Without thinking, I murmured the rune that came to mind.

“ansuz.”

A stream of pale blue-white light flashed between my fingers in an instant.

More than curiosity, surprise took hold of me. When I spoke rune after rune, blue currents snapped and crackled between my fingers.

I hadn’t really felt it when I’d only read about it in books, but experiencing it myself was far more amazing than I expected.

Electricity was being generated without any conductive material at all.

“Ghk.”

Then, all of a sudden, a chill crept up behind me.

While I’d been unconscious, I must have sweated cold the entire time, because my back was damp through to the spine.

The cold set my body shuddering again and again.

It clung to me stickily, with no intention of letting go.

“I’ll have to wash again….”

With a sigh came a wave of self-disgust.

I went into the bathroom and stripped off my soaked clothes.

This was the second time I’d seen the bare skin of this changed body.

The skin was pale, with touches of red here and there that gave it a faint vitality.

My black eyes had become orange and blue, blinking back at me in the mirror.

My loosened hair, heavy with hot water, draped itself along the line of my back and shoulders.

Even if the shock was less than the first time, it was still a sudden and disorienting thing.

The girl reflected in the mirror through the steam was clearly displeased with the current situation, her face twisted into a grimace.

Still, it was already done. There was nothing I could do about it right this second.

I turned my attention away from the unpleasant sensation. Letting the warm water from the shower stream over my head, I called out to the AI.

“Report the current situation.”

“....”

“That error message from earlier. Report the details.”

“Access was made through an unidentifiable route. As a result, mental contamination, system alteration, and bad sectors have occurred in memory.”

The water falling over my forehead sent my bangs drooping into my eyes. I brushed the wet strands back with my hand.

It seemed to have defined the changes in me after the seal was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠broken as contamination.

“Ignore the mental contamination. What do you mean by system alteration and bad sectors?”

“...Unable to answer.”

This had never happened before.

I tilted my head slightly, a flicker of confusion rising in me.

Normally, this AI was designed to produce a result by any means necessary.

I could guarantee that, because I was the one who had designed it and the one who had built it.

“Check core functions.”

“Inspection in progress. Search engine normal, database normal, quantized storage normal, limited logic engine normal, memory unavailable for inspection. Additional abnormal responses have been reported in the system.”

“Report it accurately.”

“I cannot.”

The same reaction as before.

Judging from how it was functioning, the core functions didn’t seem to have any problems.

The bad sectors in memory and the system’s abnormal reactions were troubling, but I didn’t particularly want to pry into them in a place this filthy and cramped.

For now, I’d wash up and think. The moment I made that decision—

“…!”

“Warning. Abnormal reaction detected.”

The mystery floating all around me rippled.

Without meaning to, I turned my head toward the disturbance.

Beyond the bathroom wall, something outside the inn was coming my way, wrapped in a faint veil of mystery.

The shape on the other side of the wall looked to be about the size of an adult man.

I reached back through my memory and recalled the contents of the old book.

A mage could see and feel mana, that is, mystery, and by moving it, could even convey intent to another mage nearby.

And the man now disturbing the current around me was—

“…Is he asking me to come out and see him?”

If he was the mage who had killed my parents—

My fist clenched tightly of its own accord. If he really was that mage, there was so much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I needed to ask him that I hardly knew where to begin.

The nights of Nordfjord were cold.

Once the sun slipped beyond the foothills, mountain winds carrying the chill of permanent snow descended as if they had been waiting for the chance, sliding down the slopes in a steady rush.

By the time they forced their way through the conifer forest and reached the town, their strength had weakened, but the cold they carried with them had not.

When that steadily descending chill met the briny wind blowing in from the sea, it became a sudden gust with a mind of its own.

This gust was the very wind that had been rattling the inn’s window all evening long.

Outside, I pulled up the collar of my coat against the surrounding cold.

The only thing left for me to wear was a skirt, so I had no choice but to head out dressed like this.

My bare legs made the walk feel absurdly awkward.

Then, all at once, I felt a gaze settle on me.

I turned my head across the street.

On the other side of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the alley, where not a soul could be seen, a man with an indescribable air about him was watching me.

His mouth opened slowly.

His voice was gentle, yet unmistakably clear.

“Call me William.”

William.

He stood under the streetlamp, the only light in the dark night, which made the sharp line of his eyes stand out even more.

His long hair had been neatly combed down, and beneath the strands I could see a short cloak draped over his shoulders, fastened with a gold insignia.

The half-buttoned coat and the suit beneath it gave off an air of orderliness, but also of a certain arrogant composure.

The black staff held in his right hand gleamed in the streetlamp’s light.

He was in no way suited to Nordfjord, a place so rough around the edges.

A current of cold air blew from behind him and collided with me head-on.

I caught my hair before the chill wind could tangle it.

“If my manner bothers you, forgive me. If it does not, then answer. I did not come here to fight immediately, and I would first ask the name of the young lady before me.”

“Justina Schumacher.”

“Ah. I see.”

Even after hearing my name, William remained detached.

So much so that, for a moment, it almost solidified my suspicion that this man might not be the one who had killed my parents.

That thought was shattered by the one line he carelessly let slip next.

“Revenge, then. Are you trying to take revenge on me?”