7. The Butterfly Dream (胡蝶之夢) - 04
7. The Butterfly Dream (胡蝶之夢) - 04
She dreamed of an old dream.
A scene no one else in the world remembered. A scene she alone still held within her heart. She traced those lines again, revisiting the radiant memory she treasured more than anything in existence.
What did she live for? How much longer would she have to go on like this? Why had she been born into this world at all?
She had never found an answer to any of those questions. If she were forced to give one, she could only answer this way:
Just because.
There was no reason. She truly had no purpose in life, no will of her own, no hope to hold onto.
Because it was futile. She had already realized her life was a worthless one—living as a tool, only to die as a tool. She had already understood that the happiness ordinary people knew would never be granted to her.
Before she knew it, she had grown accustomed to the people around her treating her as a tool. She had grown accustomed to the truth that this was all she would ever be given. On the long road of life, she had accepted far too easily that happiness was a reward she would never receive.
...Yes. If only she had not met him, as if by fate, on that day.
Because of that meeting, the destiny surrounding her was overturned. On that day, she ceased to be a machine concealing its humanity and became a person. More precisely, that boy had drawn her into becoming one.
—Hey. We'll meet again next time, right? I mean, we can meet again... right?
—What's so hard about meeting? If you set your mind to it, we can meet anytime we want.
That was how she learned to promise to meet someone.
—...Mm, I know that. But still...
—Ah, don't tell me you're worried about what the grown-ups think. Don't worry about it. What you want is what matters. Why care what other people think?
That was how she learned to cherish and love herself.
—That was fun. Honestly, playing with you wasn't so bad. What about you?
—...I liked it. I even got excited. This was the first time I've ever talked and played with someone like this. All of it... I liked it.
That was how she learned to be happy with someone.
She had never told him, but she had been so very, very happy. Happy enough to worry whether someone like her was even allowed to taste such joy.
After that, they met several more times. With each meeting, memories piled up, and the jewels she needed to guard within her heart only multiplied. Small moments, perhaps, that others might see as unremarkable—but to her, they were so beautiful they could sear her very eyes.
And on their last meeting, the boy and girl exchanged a single promise. They hooked their pinkies together tightly and swore a solemn oath. It was the kind of promise shared only between naive, youthful children.
To the girl, it was more precious than any promise in the world, one she absolutely had to keep. And so she waited. She waited, and waited, and waited, and waited again.
...But that promise was forgotten. The reward for endless waiting came back only as bitter regret.
In the end, the girl could only sigh. If he were still the same as when they had met—if he were still that innocent boy—he would have remembered their promise. He would not have left her alone like this. That boy who once treasured her would not have abandoned her here by herself.
What had gone wrong? She had been his first, surely. Meeting him first, spending time with him first, making that first promise, and even the promise to share a future together—all of it had been hers first. She was without question the woman most fit to stand beside him. So why had he cast aside the one who came first and chosen only other women?
She was sick of it. Sick of everything. The existence of every obstacle blocking the path between her and him had become so loathsome it made her skin crawl. She even began to wonder whether she might have been happier if she had carried nothing at all.
...And right then, a devilish idea surfaced.
If—this remained purely in the realm of if—he looked only at her, like in those days when they first met?
If he forgot everything worldly and knew no one but her?
If she alone remained at his side when he remembered nothing at all?
Would he still refuse her then?
...Or would he finally love her?
****
"...I'm late."
Iris stood in a desolate clearing a considerable distance from House Castana, muttering the words in a bleak tone. She had rushed as much as she could, but the strain of dealing with the Bronze Birds and the Rocky Mountain Giant Bianca del Castana had unleashed had ultimately cost her.
The price of reproducing a transcendent level of Sword Principle with an incomplete body had been nothing short of brutal. It had not been full output—she had done her best to hold back her power—but even so, after swinging the Heavenly Sword, Iris had ended up unconscious for over a full day.
And this was the result. By the time she opened her eyes, everything had already concluded. She had missed Kain and Bianca del Castana's engagement ceremony. She had been unable to witness Kain's dazzling performance during the incident.
...And just a day ago, when Kain and Bianca del Castana had vanished from this very spot without a trace, she had ultimately been powerless to do anything at all.
"....."
She could only furrow her brow at the sight of an enormous crater splitting the desolate clearing wide open. By diameter alone it seemed well over a hundred meters, and even the most conservative estimate put its depth at more than ten. What was even more astonishing was that this crater had not been formed naturally. It was the product of someone's handiwork only the night before.
"...Hm."
Iris ran her hand lightly over the crater's cross-section. The surface was smooth as glass. As though the soil had been touched by a flame so scorching that its temperature could not even be measured.
To Iris's knowledge, only one magic in the world combined overwhelming destructive power capable of creating a crater this massive with a flame of such extreme heat.
"...White Flame's Lament."
A unique magic Bianca del Castana would personally develop ten years from now, usable only by her. At Bianca's sheer audacity—making not even the slightest attempt to conceal her spell's traces—Iris let out a hollow laugh despite herself.
"Truly brazen. Or did she leave these traces on purpose?"
Iris felt Bianca's line of thinking flicker within reach, almost graspable. At this point in time, White Flame's Lament was a magic that did not 'yet' exist in this world. Which meant no one else in the world could examine this crater and trace it back to Bianca del Castana.
...In other words, only someone who, like Bianca del Castana, had regressed from ten years in the future could ever find her trail.
"...What a cunning woman. I'm not fond of using my head this way."
To sum it up, this immense crater was effectively a message Bianca del Castana had left behind. Nothing less than a declaration of war: if you want to find me and Kain, be prepared to reveal that you, too, regressed from ten years in the future.
Of course, such a laughable bluff was not enough to frighten the empire's Imperial Princess. The essence that constituted the woman Iris El Debhart had not changed, now or ever. Underhanded scheming was not her hobby. Whatever cheap tricks the opponent resorted to, she would shatter them head-on.
As Iris stood gazing at the crater, lost in thought, a figure appeared behind her before prostrating himself with perfect courtesy. It was Chris, the Imperial Princess's knight escort, who had arrived.
"Your Highness. I have gathered intelligence from House Castana as you commanded."
At Chris's words, Iris nodded.
"First, recount the witness testimonies. What exactly happened here?"
Chris slowly began to speak.
"None of the attendants heading for House Estel bore any external wounds or injuries. They remember nothing at all. They simply lost consciousness at some point and collapsed to the ground. However, there is one exception."
"An exception?"
"Yes. A small girl named Aria, whom Lord Kain keeps as a personal maid."
"...Aria."
The moment she heard the name, Iris's eyebrows rose before she could stop them. She knew the white-haired girl named Aria quite well. The audacious girl who, during the verbal clash between her and Ariel Tiere at the banquet hall, had called Ariel an 'old lady.' The impudent girl Kain always kept at his side and doted on. And—
'...No. It's not certain.'
Iris immediately rejected a certain hypothesis that surfaced in her mind. It was not yet certain. There was no decisive proof. The resemblance could be a mere coincidence. She judged it best to refrain from hasty conclusions.
...Yes. Not yet.
"What is the child's current condition, that you bring her up?"
Iris spoke to Chris in as flat a tone as she could manage, to conceal what lay beneath.
"...She bears no external injuries, but is said to be suffering from Magic Exhaustion. According to the doctor, such symptoms manifest when one handles magic beyond their tolerance—magic beyond their proper capacity."
"Magic Exhaustion, is it."
Iris looked at the enormous crater stretched before her eyes and nodded as though something had fallen into place. It was easy to deduce that the child had fought quite desperately against Bianca del Castana, undeniably among the strongest humans alive at this point in time. Though, considering the girl had suffered no injury other than Magic Exhaustion against Bianca, it was clear Bianca had genuinely meant to avoid casualties.
"...Mm."
The clues were sufficient. Based on the various pieces of information Chris had relayed, Iris began assembling a framework for the truth of the incident—like fitting together a puzzle.
Bianca del Castana's primary research theme at the Black Tower: 'Human Memory.'
Kain and Bianca's engagement ceremony, abruptly canceled due to the attackers' ambush.
Kain and Bianca, who vanished leaving only this massive crater behind.
All the clues were on the table. And the single answer they pointed toward was so glaringly obvious it was absurd.
She had long known Bianca del Castana was a woman who had lost her mind, but even she had never imagined Bianca would pull something on this scale. Unless she was in such a desperate mental state that she truly had no other choice.
"...Chris. How long until this child called Aria regains consciousness?"
Even at Iris's somewhat abrupt question, Chris answered without hesitation.
"I heard that as her symptoms are not severe, she may open her eyes as early as this evening."
At Chris's reply, Iris mulled it over as though weighing something, then slowly spoke.
"We will return to House Castana for now. When the child Aria wakes, she will have words I wish to hear."
Having reached her decision, Iris turned sharply away from Chris. Then, in a voice too small for Chris to hear, she let out a sigh.
A grim premonition lingered—that she would have to play a long game of hide-and-seek with Bianca del Castana for some time to come.