Movement
By the time they reached the shopping district, the Saint's Advent Festival had already transformed the streets into a celebration. Excitement lit every face. Gold, silver, and violet ornaments hung between the buildings, beautiful against the winter air—some of glass, some of ceramic, and others of a curious material that glowed with a soft light of its own.
The day was cold, but smiles bloomed on every face. People clutched gifts to their chests, or food, or whatever happiness they had found, and shared it with family, lovers, and friends. That was the kind of day Advent was.
"Oh…"
"Is there something there?"
Sugar let out a small sound of wonder at the rather fine spectacle, and the blind woman asked after it at once.
"It's the Saint's Advent Festival right now, so the streets look pretty."
"…Ah. That day has come around again."
Rubshi, who ordinarily treated Sugar with such painstaking care, said this much with a striking indifference. For heretics it was hardly a welcome occasion—and still less so for a faith that denied the Saint outright.
She could be warm enough in ordinary conversation, but the moment the Saint entered the talk, the air around her changed. Judging by her manners alone, she seemed a perfectly sound person.
Of course, she had tried to lay a surveillance spell on Sugar at their first meeting—Sugar still did not know that—and she had a habit of needling a boy far younger than herself, among other less-than-adult behavior. Mages tended to be willful by nature, though. At the very least, she was someone who had yet to do any direct harm.
Among the cult's people, she was the mildest of the mild. Why would someone like her even be in a place like that?
If this woman had never retired in the original story—if she had stayed—the grim fate waiting for Sugar might have been another matter entirely.
"…Why are you in the cult?"
The question left her mouth before she could stop it.
Faced with a sudden inquiry that cut straight through a hundred years of living, Rubshi quietly tapped her cane. Tok, tok, tok.
"That is rather like asking… why do you live?"
"Does it have to get that philosophical? I was just curious how you ended up joining, that kind of thing."
"Ah. The reason. The reason… Hmm. Do you believe in fate, Sugar?"
"Ugh. If you're going to start talking nonsense, forget I asked."
It wasn't even a Have you heard of our lord? pitch.
There were kinds of nonsense. The kind you could sit through, and the kind you could not. Religious nonsense landed in the latter pile with grim reliability—and Shadow Cult nonsense was a horror all its own.
Sugar picked up her pace. Fortunately, an apothecary had just come into view ahead. Rubshi made small, wounded little noises behind her.
Unfortunately.
"Ahh…"
"What's the matter?"
"The apothecary's on holiday. A grand closing for the Advent Festival."
The downturned corners of Rubshi's mouth, so lately sorrowful, began to creep upward again.
"Really now. What an unhelpful Saint."
"Hey. That's blasphemy."
"How rude of me."
She grinned when scolded, and did not look sorry in the slightest.
Irritated, Sugar poured mana into her steps and went bouncing on ahead. The tap of a walking cane followed at once. She kept up remarkably well.
"Sugar. Why the sudden hurry?"
"Just in case. I want to get to another apothecary before they close too."
It was an excuse, but the truth was mixed in, which meant it was not a lie. Sugar's expression did not so much as flicker as she headed straight for the next shop.
"They're all on holiday…"
At this rate, she was starting to wonder if they would find a single open door.
He's probably still coughing, even at this hour…
What if her little brother's fever spiked? Everyone would be busy preparing to receive their patrons. Was there even anyone to change out the wet towels?
She fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.
"Let's just go back. Everywhere else is probably closed too. We can at least buy some fruit."
Thinking she would peel him an apple or two, she turned around as she spoke—and found Rubshi with her head tipped back, frowning faintly at nothing.
"Rubshi?"
She had opened the eyes she always kept shut, and was rolling those empty gray pupils this way and that. What was a blind woman doing that for? From the look of her, she might have been studying the sky.
"Hmm…"
"Do you see something?"
"We should head back quickly."
Was it going to snow?
The sort of thing old people said—joints aching before the rain, before the snow.
Sugar smothered a private little laugh and started for the fruit shop. Rubshi, suddenly quiet, followed meekly in her wake.
Beneath the clamor of the festival, somewhere, it seemed a crow had cried.
The fruit shop, fortunately, was open.
Winter had driven the prices as high as they would go. Even so, Advent always sent fruit flying off the shelves, so closing was hardly an option. Money had to be made.
"Hello. How many apples can I get with this?"
Sugar had barely stepped inside and was just holding out her coin purse to the shopkeeper when Rubshi moved in front of her.
"I'll buy them, Sugar. Choose whatever you like."
"Oh."
A strangely familiar feeling crept over her.
"What if I said I wanted everything in the shop?"
"Uh… uh… I beg your pardon?"
"Yes."
Rubshi's hands began to tremble.
She had stepped forward so boldly. She had thought that now they were somewhat close, Sugar would not make unreasonable demands.
"W-well… I wouldn't mind, of course…"
"Heeh…"
"I would be treated as a burden… I might even be sold off somewhere… but if it is for you, Sugar…"
She had already been scolded once for spending too freely at the café, and again over the purchase of the cane. If she detonated a third incident now…
"I'm kidding."
As if sweeping every one of those worries aside, Sugar stuck out her tongue and began picking a modest bag's worth. Rubshi went limp with relief. Without the walking cane, she might have melted straight into the floor.
"But you make money too, right? How do you usually earn it?"
I work hard so I can buy Sugar delicious things… and build an altar, too…
What she had heard earlier drifted back, and curiosity got the better of her.
"I simply… take ordinary commissions."
The answer was more mundane than expected, and Sugar had started to nod along when something else occurred to her.
"Those… dark… you know. Those kinds…?"
She dropped her voice, glancing toward the shopkeeper standing off in the corner.
"They are ordinary ones from the commission office, of course! …Well, there are things like 'capture a violent criminal, dead or alive,' but I usually take monster-subjugation work."
What. That was actually unexpected.
Even with an outsider standing right there, it did not sound like a lie.
But wouldn't the bounty on her own head be worth more than anything she works so hard to earn…
A century-old Apostle.
Even if she claimed she did no evil, that was civilians only. She would have laid hands on people from the Holy City and the Floating Island often enough. And with that long a career, her name would carry weight.
And not a soul here knew that such an Apostle was standing in this shop. She would have used every trick she had to keep her identity hidden, and she had said herself that mana concealment was her specialty.
Hmm. Sugar rather wanted to learn that.
But given the nature of their relationship, it was not something she could simply bring up. Knowing Rubshi would not kidnap her was one thing. Laying bare the bottom of her own magic and the nature of her mana was another thing entirely.
Instruction always revealed such things, sooner or later. Rubshi would draw close to Sugar's mana. That was what she wanted to avoid.
To Rubshi, she was simply an unusual child with unusually pure mana. That was enough.
Rubshi still doesn't know about the connection between the Dark God and my mana.
A being who could quiet a Dark God with whom no proper communication was possible. A being the Dark God would love.
If she knew that, she would not be taking this leisurely attitude. She would be doing everything in her power to carry Sugar off. That easy composure would shatter, and she would come flying like a ghost.
So Sugar kept her mouth shut.
Besides, the friend currently laid up sick in bed would go absolutely berserk.
You dared learn mana manipulation from that person without even asking me!?
Pfft. The picture alone was enough to make her laugh, and she went on packing fruit with a foolish little grin.
"What a haul. Thank you."
She stepped out of the shop with a paper bag full of fruit gathered in both arms, thoroughly satisfied. This abundance. This extravagance. The jewel-bright sheen on the skins looked so good she nearly drooled.
Rubshi closed her wallet without a word. The woman had grown oddly quiet.
"Rubshi?"
Had she gotten angry? Winter prices would have been steep. Then again, she had spent far less than she had at the café.
"Thanks for buying them. I'll enjoy these."
Whatever sat between them, a gift was still something to be grateful for. She offered her thanks a second time—and Rubshi came striding right up to her.
"H-hey?"
"I'm glad I could be of help, Sugar. The wish to be your strength is, to me, like the darkness of the night sky."
"What kind of analogy is that. That's creepy."
Sugar edged backward. Rubshi did not falter. For every step Sugar took, Rubshi took two, until she was close enough to press right against her.
"Wait. Did you hate buying things for me that much?"
"On the contrary. I like it. I worked hard for precisely this."
"Your mouth and your feet are saying different things…"
She kept steering their steps somewhere. By the time Sugar came back to herself, they were on a narrow path between buildings—a dark alley where people would have to walk single file.
It was a different world from the main street, all festive gold and silver and violet.
"…Why are you suddenly doing this? What are you after?"
Rubshi stood silent, blocking the way forward, and Sugar had no choice but to give ground.
A strange little standoff.
The escape route behind me is…
She had her cane, at least. Pretending to settle the fruit bag in her arms, she slipped a hand inside her clothes. Then she glanced sideways—and saw people coming in from behind.
She clicked her tongue at the thought of being boxed in, then frowned, something about it sitting wrong, and turned to look properly.
They were shambling. Strange, broken steps. Eyes unfocused, drool running from their mouths.
Drunks, in the middle of the day? She kept watching, and there were too many sets of footsteps. People were coming in behind Rubshi as well. She could roughly make them out from the shadows.
"What… is this…"
"Stay still."
Rubshi murmured it quietly and pulled Sugar into her arms.
Sugar twisted, trying to resist—and from both directions came a grotesque sound.
Gueeerk. Eueerk— It was like the noise of a throat being cut, and yet, listening closely, it was subtly different.
One person at a time. One syllable at a time. They were pronouncing something.
If she held still and listened, those sounds gathered themselves into a single sentence with meaning.
A cult greeting. Her heart dropped.
She shoved her head out through the gap in Rubshi's arms at once.
The people who had spoken the sentence in concert let their mouths fall wide and began to sound, as if resonating with one another.
Aaaaaaah—
Eueueueueue—
Keeeeeerk—
They screamed as if their breath were leaving them. Chests and bellies swelled, filling with air until they ballooned.
It looked like a song of their own, stuffed with madness. A fitting hymn, if it was a hymn to the Dark God.
The sound climbed. The swelling grew worse. They were racing toward an end.
Then the finale.
BANG!!
Sugar could only blink at a spectacle that did not feel real.
The swollen people burst—and instead of blood and flesh, dozens of crows came pouring out.
The instant Rubshi leapt into the sky with Sugar in her arms, the crows took flight as well. They gathered toward some focal point high above and began to merge, one into the next.
A scene she had glimpsed in the underground waterway rose faintly in her mind.
"What is that!"
"A demon! An Apostle of the demon!"
Screams erupted from every direction.
Over the city, a giant crow assembled from all those smaller ones made for a thoroughly menacing sight. Pitch-black against the bright and festive square, a thing of bone without a scrap of flesh—it was gruesome in the extreme.
Chaotic shouting. People stumbling over one another in their rush to flee. All of it felt very far away.
Sugar simply stood on a rooftop and stared, and stared.
"…Just what. What is going on."
She was bewildered, but her tone came out fairly calm. When something too absurd happened, the mind sometimes snapped into focus instead of falling apart.
"I don't really know either. I've been taking too long bringing you in, so one of my colleagues seems to have taken offense…"
"…You said the cult doesn't harm ordinary citizens."
"Those people who just spent their lives were all our believers. Faithful ones under that friend's command."
Ah, may we meet again within Him… The praying look on her face was unpleasant.
Even as she spoke, the cutting wind kicked up by the giant bone crow tore at people's clothes, tore at flesh, shattered window glass. The square was in an uproar.
"This kind of hostage play isn't fun…"
"Hostage play? What do you mean?"
"They know I dislike harming citizens, so they're doing this on purpose. Leave converting you to them and come back quickly. Quit what you're doing and just retire already. But this only makes me more curious…"
What were they in such a hurry for… Rubshi muttered it with not a trace of a smile. She looked, if anything, irritated.
She tapped the rooftop with her walking cane, and something formless shot out with a sound like air being sliced through and struck the crow.
An explosion that felt as if it would burst the eardrums. The individual birds screamed and scattered to pieces.
She shouted it, then leapt for the ground with Sugar tucked under one arm.
"…Does that kind of taunt actually make him chase you?"
"Yes. Just as that friend knows me well, I know him quite as well. Even a little poke gets a lovely reaction."
No sooner had she said it than several crows, already gathering again, came straight after them. Rubshi fled beautifully, toying with the birds as she went. The speed was so great the wind against Sugar's cheeks hurt. Mid-flight she even chanted a spell and launched an attack somewhere—every inch the veteran.
"I'm sorry for pulling you into this, Sugar. I'll at least see you home, so don't worry."
As if to insist that none of this had been her will. The way she murmured it, holding Sugar fast, looked lonely.
"…"
Pinned under Rubshi's arm, Sugar used the moment to put her thoughts in order.
Claude. She remembered the name.
A ruthless Apostle. An enemy who appeared as a mid-boss. Someone she truly did not want to meet as Sugar.
And that someone was coming after them now.
There's a conflict inside the cult…
She did not know the finer structure of the split, but for the moment Rubshi stood on the opposite side from Claude.
The same organization, and yet they were forcing retirement on her this roughly. Apostles were supposed to stand on equal footing—this kind of sudden coercion went well beyond that.
As if there were a reason Rubshi had to retire.
Did the cult's atrocities accelerate after Rubshi left?
Claude had been a figure with a strong voice among the Apostles of the original story. A villain who committed cruel acts without the slightest hesitation. Together with a cult that no longer had Rubshi in it, he had done whatever he pleased.
"…Rubshi. What exactly is 'retirement' in the cult? What is it, that they'd go this far?"
"Ah. You wouldn't know, Sugar. Retirement is when an Apostle whose lifespan is running out goes into His embrace, to be together forever."
"…So they offer their own body as a sacrifice?"
"That's far too harsh a way to put it. It is the offering of gratitude, and at the same time the taking of a peaceful rest that no one can disturb."
She said this while splitting an incoming crow cleanly in two.
Intense enough.
At any rate, the purpose was clear.
In the original story, the cult had schemed in every corner of the continent to swallow it whole. At this point in time, those factions would still be in the middle of drawing up their blueprints. In the midst of that, they would have judged Apostle Rubshi—with her relatively gentle nature and her inconvenient sense of morality—an obstacle.
And so they wanted her gone quickly. Out of their sight.
Originally, Rubshi would have retired long ago without ever crossing paths with Sugar. But Sugar's injured face had kept her from going out, and that delay had snowballed all the way into this.
"Ah."
She was just feeling the dread of a snowball that had already grown too large to stop when Rubshi came to a sudden halt. Sugar lifted her head to look.
They were already in the little forest beside the slums—the same woods where Sugar had hunted giant burrow rats on commission.
People in black clothes stood in a line, blocking the way forward.