Proposal
"Let's step outside and talk."
At Cedric's suggestion, Ryly nodded. He'd rather have this conversation somewhere without an audience.
The way they went outside, however, was another matter entirely. The moment Ryly thought Huh?, Cedric had already closed the distance in a blink, tucked him under one arm, and thrown himself out the window.
They landed in a secluded forest beyond the Holy City. While Ryly clutched his churning stomach, Cedric pulled a wand from his coat and immediately recited a barrier spell. The ward that bloomed around them was just large enough for two — the kind that sealed off sound and hid whatever happened inside.
Preparations finished, Cedric turned to look at him.
"Alright. Go ahead. Start however you like."
Ryly steadied his breathing and opened his mouth, his voice carefully even.
"...Can I become a Holy Knight too?"
He was leading with that? The bearded man blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question.
"Anyone who believes in the Saint has the qualifications. You'd have to pass the entrance exam, of course. But looking at you, I don't think you've got what it takes to be a Holy Knight."
"And why is that?"
Ryly's brow twitched, then smoothed. He was keeping his face carefully neutral in front of a man of such high standing.
"A Holy Knight's first duty is to protect the Saintess. The Saint's bloodline. That hasn't changed in any era, and it never will. After that come the citizens. If it's one member of your own family against a hundred civilians, you're expected to choose the hundred. You need the kind of devotion that will let you throw your own life away without blinking."
"..."
"So. Could you do that? From where I'm standing, the second your girlfriend's in danger you'd go running straight to her."
He thought back to the first time he'd found these two. A boy covered head to toe in wounds, and a girl who'd gotten off relatively lightly. The story had written itself the moment he laid eyes on them.
Ryly's carefully smoothed expression folded back into a frown.
"She's not my girlfriend... Either way, isn't it only natural for a person to put their own family first?"
"One of the Holy Knights I know actually sacrificed the husband she loved to save a city of tens of thousands."
"..."
"It's cruel. That day was... it really was... Hah. Honestly, I don't want to force that kind of thing on anyone either. I get what you're after. You want to get stronger so you can protect that Sugar kid. Something like that."
Ryly was silent for a moment. Then, as if he'd made up his mind, he nodded.
"...Yes. I want to set her free. If I get strong enough, I can stay by her side and protect her even if she leaves the Holy City."
It's not like I can follow her around all day protecting her, after all.
He'd taken the idea from something this man had said earlier. That was why he'd asked about becoming a Holy Knight. If he became one — if he could stay glued to Sugar's side the way Cedric had described — he could keep her out of the heretics' hands. He could drive them off. And then the white-haired girl would be free to go wherever she wanted.
"How old are you?"
"Huh? Eleven... ah, I'll be twelve this year."
"A little kid, going on about..."
Cedric laughed, incredulous. Then he stroked his beard and looked down at the bold boy in front of him.
"Fine. I can make you stronger. You don't have to be a Holy Knight to get what you want. But I've got something I'm curious about too."
"..."
He held out a palm and wiggled his fingers, the gesture unmistakable. Hand it over.
Ryly clenched his fist, then opened it, and summoned the book. He'd already been caught. Better to come clean before this got any worse.
"Good. Must've been terrifying to show me that. Takes guts."
A hand the size of a frying pan thumped Ryly on the back.
"Mind if I take a look?"
"...I don't think that's a good idea."
"You little brat. You know how many forbidden books I've confiscated?"
Cedric took the book with complete confidence and flipped open the cover.
A sharp slap of paper. Three seconds later, he slammed it shut.
"..."
"Hey... where the hell did you get something this horrific?"
"It's been with me since... some point. I don't know when it started."
"And you understand what's written in here?"
"For the most part... it contains languages from all kinds of countries, but the moment something is written on a page, it just... sinks into my head on its own. So yes. I can understand it."
"From what I saw, it was nothing but curses. The kind that activate just from perceiving them."
"That has nothing to do with my will—"
"Yeah. You didn't do that. That's the book's own defense mechanism... So what have you used this thing for? Did you use it to serve your own greed?"
"..."
"You can speak freely. This isn't a heresy inquisition. Those have procedures, you know. If I'd wanted to go that route, I'd have thrown you in the dungeon already."
The reassurance pulled a long, shuddering breath out of Ryly. Old memories came crowding in — short ones, and ones that weren't short at all, all of them arriving in a messy rush.
The person he'd been before meeting Sugar and the person he was now felt like two different people. The fact that one girl had changed him this much sat strangely in his chest. His pride didn't want to admit it. He had no choice but to admit it anyway.
He groped his way back through those days and quietly began to speak.
"At first... I just wanted knowledge. I filled its pages by killing wild animals."
So that was how the pages were deciphered. Cedric nodded.
"Back then I just wanted to know. I wanted to reach a higher level... and when the results stalled, I even considered killing people."
"And? Did you, or didn't you?"
"...I did."
"Why?"
"To save her..."
Cedric let out a short, incredulous breath. All that buildup, and that was the answer.
"That's all? The ones you killed that day — that was it?"
"Yes. You can confiscate the book. I'll help however I can to uncover its mysteries. If I have to be punished, I'll accept any punishment short of prison. So please... help me become stronger."
The boy bowed his head low.
Cedric watched him in silence. Then he rapped his knuckles against Ryly's skull — a noogie from a hand like an iron skillet, hard enough to send stars bursting across the boy's vision.
"You idiot. You killed a few heretics and you think you deserve punishment? Then should every Holy Knight be locked up? Are the Inquisitors all high traitors?"
"But I... I used a Grimoire..."
Ryly clutched his ringing head and mumbled. Cedric held the book back out to him.
"Just take it. Put it away."
He did as he was told. The book vanished as if it had never been there.
"Alright. I didn't see a thing today. All that happened is some precocious little brat with a talent for magic asked me to take him as a disciple, and I figured I'd give it a shot."
"What? No, wait. You're going to keep this a secret? And — disciple...?"
His head was spinning. Part of that was the physical damage, but most of it was the words this man had just thrown at him. He couldn't keep up.
"What, you don't want to be my disciple?"
"No... but your duties as a Guardian..."
"The place runs fine without me. I'm barely in the Holy City to begin with — Advent season, and that's about it. I'm out in the field so much the folks back here love dumping jobs on me. 'Sir Cedric's already outside — Sir Cedric will be passing right by there anyway —' Ugh. I'm so damn sick of it."
"So I'd be going with you."
"That's right. Or would you rather train around the Holy City carrying that nightmare of a book? If another Holy Knight spots it, you're on your own from there. I won't be able to protect you."
"N-no. That's not it. It's just so sudden."
"Don't worry. You're in a better spot than that girl. You can hide that book almost perfectly, can't you? Even the Saintess doesn't seem to have noticed..."
The enormous light that wrapped the Holy City. The barrier that filtered out evil. It hadn't so much as snagged on this.
Then again, given her personality, she might have noticed and simply chosen to look the other way.
Cedric considered that for a moment, then went on.
"Anyway, I can manage taking one kid along. It's still a ways until you enroll at Stille, so for a few years... hmm. Good choice, Stille. Not as safe as the Holy City, but pretty secure."
Ryly's mouth opened and closed in front of the chattering middle-aged knight.
None of this was bad news. A man of this caliber — one of the people who led the Holy City — offering to teach him was a rare opportunity. And he was going to pretend he'd never seen the Grimoire. That alone was more than Ryly could have asked for.
It was all good news.
And that was exactly why one question wouldn't leave him alone. A boy who'd been burned too many times was suspicious by nature. A kind of distrust that served as a defense mechanism. It had come undone for one girl, but as for everyone else... well.
"...Why do you trust me?"
He'd seen that wicked book, and he was going to keep it secret — and offer a helping hand on top of that. The question carried all of that with it. Cedric answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
"I'm an adult. Guiding a kid with that kind of dangerous power in the right direction is just what you do. ...Honestly, it's a pain. But I already saw it, so what can I do? I've got to take responsibility."
"..."
"Besides, you showed me how much you love and care for that one girl. How could I not trust you? The Saint looked upon humanity's foolishness and still chose to believe in us. So how could I not answer a heart as devoted as yours?"
He sounded almost sentimental. I really am getting old, huh.
Ryly listened in silence. Then he said exactly one thing.
"...It's not like that."
"What's not?"
"The loving and caring. It's not."
"Hah... Fine. Whatever you say. Anyway — think about what we talked about today."
Unbelievable. Cedric grumbled under his breath and started down the path back toward the Holy City.
"...Thank you."
Ryly offered the words to the man's back and followed. Cedric had told him to think about it, but honestly, he'd already decided. Turning down an opportunity like this would be stupid.
He tried to picture the future waiting for him. Excitement over a new path and worry over what it would cost tangled together in his chest until the whole thing felt strange.
If he had to choose, the worry was heavier. According to this Guardian, he'd be living outside the Holy City. That meant being apart from Sugar. He would have to spend some time away from the girl he'd always been glued to — the girl he'd assumed he would always be glued to.
It was for her sake, of course. But would she be all right?
Would she be fine without him? She was the kind of girl who'd get into who-knew-what if you left her alone. He was supposed to be there to stop her.
The thought of parting made his chest feel... something.
"..."
Ryly's face tightened. He ignored the unpleasant feeling that kept rising behind his ribs, and they returned to the Holy City.
Knock, knock—
"Hey... Sugar. You in?"
By the time they got back, the sun was going down. Ryly headed for Sugar's room. He needed to tell her what he and Cedric had talked about. He also needed to write up his testimony about that day's incident and turn it in.
He knocked. Nothing.
"I'm coming in."
Still nothing.
He opened the door onto an empty room.
Gone to dinner, probably. She never missed a meal. She'd have waited for him, gotten tired of waiting, and gone ahead — or come by the room, found it empty, and headed straight for the dining hall.
Having more or less settled on that, Ryly sat down at the table. Report paper lay scattered across it. The pages they'd used for their written conversation were tucked safely inside his clothes, so that was fine.
He didn't particularly feel like eating. Better to get the testimony written instead. He picked up a pencil, and — of course — the words wouldn't come.
He didn't feel like doing anything. His thoughts were a mess. His head ached from turning the same things over and over.
He just felt lonely, somehow.
He just... wanted to see Sugar.
"..."
He flopped face-down onto the table.
He stayed like that, nose mashed against the wood, until breathing became difficult. When he turned his head a little to the side, he could see the bed.
Sugar's bed.
The place where a girl who smelled so sweet slept. Where her white hair and pale skin had rubbed against the sheets, leaving her scent soaked into the fabric.
He stared at it for a long time. Then he buried his face in the table again.
Then he looked at the bed. Then back at the table. The whole sequence repeated every few seconds.
In the end, he started banging his head against the wood. What am I even thinking right now?
He was a boy who always had far too much on his mind, all because of one girl.
Around the same time.
The girl responsible for turning that boy into such a wreck was currently up on the roof of the Grand Cathedral.
She'd followed a kid who'd been in a chase with a Holy Knight, and by the time she came to her senses, here she was.
"Why do you keep following me..."
"I told you, have you seen my friend?"
"I don't know... I've said it like a hundred times..."
"Ah... well. What a waste of time."
"You're the one who followed me!"
No matter where she went, driving people up the wall was one thing she never failed at.