92 - Picnic
"It's easier if you think of this as a dream."
"A dream...?"
"Yeah. Alchemist is magic that stores wishes and makes them real."
So Nami had used magic to realize a dream within a dream? Yuna's head still tilted in confusion. With every step, dew-laden grass rustled against her legs, and the cold air filling her lungs felt far too vivid to be fake.
"Nami, then what's with those people over there? Are they magic too?"
Haru pointed curiously at the golden-haired siblings.
"Yeah, you could call it magic. On the other hand, they're people I missed."
"I still don't get it..."
"Just think of them as regular people like us."
In the distance, the sky and meadow blended into an endless horizon, filling the place with a serene stillness, as if time itself had paused. The hill looked far off from where they stood, but a few steps later, they were already at the picnic blanket. That's why she called it a dream, Haru murmured softly.
"Hey, kids."
Nami greeted them first, her eyes misty with emotion. The siblings, who had been pinning down the wind-tossed blanket, froze.
"You...? The princess?"
"Whoa! Estasha! Finally feeling like you've stepped out of your room? Who's that with you? Friends? Introduce me too!"
Nami casually advised the sulky kids.
"You know how to play house, right? From now on, you're Princess Yuna, and you're Princess Haru."
"Eww, house? Out of nowhere?"
"Eek, princess...!"
Haru recoiled slightly, while Yuna swelled with excitement. Becoming a princess had been Yuna's lifelong dream. She never imagined Nami shared the taste.
"Let me introduce you properly. Say your names in order: Yuna and Haru."
"Uh, hi... Yuna, and Haru."
"Hi! So nice to meet you! Everyone's names are so pretty!"
Nami switched the order this time.
"This boy's Hiasen, and call the little one Niobe. Not too hard, right?"
"Uh... hi, Hiasen oppa?"
"Hi, Niobe unnie."
"Yeah! Nice to meet you!"
The girls still found the golden-haired siblings awkward. They seemed even more exotic than their classmate Han Se-ri, speaking their language yet feeling so alien. Their striking beauty only widened the gap.
Hiasen's long lashes trembled faintly as he scanned the three girls.
"Estasha...?"
"Yeah, Hiasen."
"You've changed a lot."
"A lot's happened."
"You said you wouldn't come till it was all over. Have you achieved your dreams now?"
"...Yeah."
"Was I there at the end?"
"You were."
"Good... The me out there didn't leave you alone."
Nami's words were only half-true. Hiasen the Emperor had taken Princess Estasha's final life. But she hid it, not wanting to spoil the mood.
"Oppa, seriously! Why bring up weird stuff and kill the vibe?"
"Niobe, stay quiet if you're distracted."
"Yeah? So what? I'm not playing with you—I'm playing with Estasha only~!"
Niobe scampered over and hooked arms with Nami.
"Come sit quick! Picnic's all set. Yuna and Haru are welcome too!"
The group had jumped from two to five, so the blanket felt a bit small. But Hiasen and Nami half-reclined on the grass to make room.
"Um... you guys knew Nami from before?"
Haru asked. Niobe, with her ever-grinning face, answered.
"Of course! Estasha's our eternal little sis!"
The words came from a platinum blonde girl whose hair whipped in the wind, her golden eyes practically swallowed by her dimples. It was funny hearing her call Nami "little sis," but as Nami had said, they decided to roll with it. The line between common sense and nonsense had already blurred.
"On the flip side, I want to ask you two. How'd you meet Estasha?"
"We're classmates at the academy!"
Yuna answered Hiasen's question confidently.
"And besties...!"
She added without missing a beat.
"Academy? Estasha, didn't you drop out?"
"I reenrolled."
"Figures. You've always wanted friends."
"Me...?"
"Yeah."
"Hiasen, still spouting nonsense."
"I'm always serious."
"Even that tone..."
Everything felt familiar, nostalgic. Niobe's playfulness, Hiasen's teasing. Nami's face darkened again at these ties she'd never see anew.
"Estasha, ahh—"
Niobe spotted her and shoved a cream-filled éclair into her mouth without asking.
"Mmph—!"
"Eat up! No weight gain! Heehee."
Nami barely spat out a crumb with her baby teeth.
"I just learned this. Nami, you lived abroad?"
"You could say yes, or no."
If Alchemist materialized dreams, these must be Nami's acquaintances from their chats. Yuna marveled that such cool, pretty people claimed her as kin.
Nami finished the éclair and commented.
"Weird. Different world, different body, but the Raoul-Sys save holds. Same stars, maybe?"
This strongly proved her past life wasn't some fleeting dream. Hiasen and Niobe were real people; her reincarnation was the same Estasha.
Nami had cast it on a whim—nothing to lose. The magic she'd pulled out in tough times, the one that kept her from suicide's sweet lure, matched her memories perfectly.
* * *
It wasn't unreasonable for people here to mistake Alchemist for mere stargazing magic. When cast by chance, all they'd see was the vast cosmos, hard to grasp its true use.
In her past life, even Raoul Luminos, who discovered it, or Hiasen, who taught it to her, thought it just let you see stars.
Alchemist was illusion magic reconstructing and materializing one's happiest moments. Based on starlight wavelengths reaching Earth, it created realistic, detailed fantasies. Notably, it built worlds from star-stored info, not flawed personal memories.
But it was a double-edged sword. Casters escaped harsh reality for sweet respite, yet the void upon return was indescribable. The happiest memory meant reality was always grimmer.
I used Alchemist (Raoul-Sys) only when I wanted to abandon my duties. The most during the Sloth Subjugation War, probably. To make the implanted Sloth seed rampage, I couldn't sleep—a bizarre, inhumane method.
Just endure stupidly, over and over. The magic substituted cerebrospinal fluid, forcibly clearing adenosine and amyloid beta toxins, relaxing muscles to ease fatigue. But it only mimicked deep sleep, never erased the need.
Repeating that hell for a year, Alchemist was essential to stay sane.
'Though chanting it in my sleep... maybe I worried my friends for nothing.'
Meanwhile, the fake Hiasen and Niobe here marveled at my changed body. No wonder—I'd cast it over ten times. Even illusory personalities retained memories of my visits.
"New name's Nami? Too bad I can't call you Shasha anymore."
"Ancient nickname... and look how different I am."
"I was shocked. Thought you'd swallowed another poison spider."
Hiasen smirked slyly.
"Come on, I'm not a kid. I've lived four times your life now."
No spider dyes hair black. If it did, it'd sell to seniors as dye.
Our walk filled with idle chat. He'd beaten Payran in swordplay; Josephine's fiancé cheated with a border baron's daughter, dooming the house. Vivid as yesterday, but over twenty years old.
He repeated the same tales each visit; I always listened eagerly. Magic fixed him at thirteen, but his maturity made chats feel real-friend-like. Nostalgia wasn't bad.
"Nice. Talking to you's always easiest, Hiasen. Cocky tone aside."
"I'm a kid now! You've lived years more outside. Normal. But know what? Chatting with you was the world's hardest for me."
"What? So you hung out with me out of pity?"
His sudden confession stung. Was I the fallback friend?
"Not like that, Estasha."
"Then what."
"...Not telling you ever."
"Unbelievable."
Hiasen stuck out his tongue.
"Ack!"
He bit it—I stifled a laugh at the absurdity. The man who'd rocked high society as Kaizen's handsomest, undone like this? Smitten ladies would've loved the twist. His looks-obsession irked me. They'd praise him even mid-shit.
"You frowning makes you ugly."
My jab made him blush and turn away.
"N-not ugly...?"
He knew his beauty—raged whenever I called him ugly, demanding retractions. Look at that narcissist fussing his curls. With a mirror, he'd groom all day.