Dusty's Ego and the Geometry Gambit
Dusty might give off the vibe of a kindly old grandfather who warmly welcomes you back to your parents' house, but Zepeto is an extraordinary wizard. You can tell just from the fact that the notoriously arrogant White Tower acknowledged him. Judging by how he chatted so casually with the elders when I first arrived here, his skills must be at least on their level.
And yet, here he was, his expression grave. That's why I was taking this situation so seriously.
"I suspected as much, but your Heart Image seems to have already been half-devoured by Dusty."
"Is this related to how I haven't been in my right mind all this time?"
"Indeed."
To sum up Zepeto's explanation: Around the time Dusty started eroding my sense of self, my Heart Image began to erode as well. That part was manageable. Once I came to the cabin and became aware of it, the erosion stopped. But trouble started when I cornered the thing in a corner of my psyche and started tormenting it—beating it soundly with a broom and locking it in a barrel. Sensing the crisis, Dusty began to rebel in a new way: by interfering whenever I tried to cast magic.
It had used the moment I cast that spell just now to attack me—to drag out my sense of self and seize control of my body.
"...Does that even make sense?"
"Watch your language, young one."
Destiny, they call it. A fate bestowed by the heavens, an innate talent you're born with. I knew there was something fishy about all that irreverent talk, but attacking the very vessel itself—my body? At that point, it's no longer some abstract concept like fate or talent. It's more like...
"Naming it was the root of the problem. That's what gave the thing a faint sense of self."
You're kidding me. A split personality? I nearly handed over my entire body to my inner Hyde after playing at Jekyll and Hyde. If Zepeto hadn't intervened just now, I might have been the one shoved into the dustbin in the corner of my own psyche.
Up until then, it had only been a slow erosion—more instinct than anything, which was why simply recognizing it had been enough to halt it. But this time was different. Because I'd given it a name, it had developed a sense of self. Meaning it could pull who-knows-what from some hidden corner of my consciousness, just like it did moments ago.
Cold sweat trickled down my back as I looked up at Zepeto.
"What do I do?"
"Heh heh. Well now."
Zepeto was over seventy, with the knowledge and skill to match his years. But even for him, a case like mine was a first. Apparently, a Destiny that actively erodes its host's sense of self like this was exceedingly rare.
"Still, no need to worry too much. As long as you don't try imposing your Heart Image on your magic, this won't happen again."
"So you're saying I'll never be able to use Heart Image magic for the rest of my life?"
I'd been looking forward to trying it, too. My voice came out all deflated.
"That's why you need to take your time and negotiate a truce. Good thing it has a sense of self now—it should be easier to talk to. Heh heh."
Zepeto's stern expression melted away, and he slipped back into his usual sly demeanor like nothing had happened. It helped calm my rattled nerves a bit.
Whatever had happened, had happened. Now to figure out how to fix it.
For starters, as per Zepeto's advice, I decided to try talking to it.
I'm sorry. Want to make up?
I cautiously entered my inner world and extended a hand of reconciliation to Dusty. But it completely ignored me, pretending I wasn't even there. Too soon for apologies, maybe? With no choice, I retreated back to reality, postponing for later.
As Zepeto and I cleaned up the disheveled room, a sudden wave of resentment washed over me. Hold on—why the hell should I be the one apologizing? It started this mess. Dusty was really starting to piss me off.
After that day, I tried talking to Dusty several more times, aiming for some kind of compromise. But this jerk wouldn't even give me an inch to negotiate! It turned its back on me from inside the dustbin, refusing to so much as glance my way. I couldn't tell if it couldn't speak or just wouldn't, but one thing was clear: it was seriously sulking.
What a joke.
Was it a five-year-old? You started it! When were you planning to nibble away at my sense of self, huh? And now you're throwing a tantrum just because I whacked you with a broom a little? I'd made the first move toward peace, and it ignored me completely—how could I not get heated?
In a fit of anger, I grabbed the dustbin and shook it sha-ka-sha-ka. And now it was straight-up glaring at me. No eyes on that dust clump, but I could feel it instinctively. Our diplomatic relations hit rock bottom over the next few days.
Want to die? Spit out my Heart Image magic!
This was my mind. I was the boss here. Keep acting up like this, and it's a 500% tariff! Sha-ka-sha-ka-sha-ka!
It didn't yield. Trapped in the dustbin or not, it existed within my sense of self, so it had its own vicious ways of retaliating.
Thwack!
"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"
That was whenever Evel came near—sudden knuckle-raps to my head.
"Sorry. Dusty's fault."
"Dusty! Stop hitting me!"
Evel immediately pointed at me accusingly and yelled. A ten-year-old's worldview is like soft clay, still malleable, so she didn't find it all that strange that two personalities shared one body.
"If you keep it up, I'm telling Grandpa!"
With relations between me and Dusty at an all-time low, things weren't much better between her and Dusty. She had the Destiny of Extreme Cold and used Heart Image magic a lot around me, so Dusty probably just unilaterally hated her guts. That was my guess.
I turned to the fuming Evel.
"Go ahead and try."
"Wh-what...?"
"Dusty says."
A lie, of course. Dusty hadn't said a word. Truth was, I just needed Zepeto right then. Know one of the few perks of a split personality? You can pin all your trash talk and screw-ups on "it did it" with a single phrase.
"Dusty says hurry up and fetch him. Unless you want another smack."
I pretended to cock my fist high. Evel let out a squeak, then bolted out of the room.
"Gr-Grandpa—!"
In the end, she unleashed her ultimate move: Zepeto Summoning. As expected of an innate talent from Destiny, it worked like a charm. Less than a minute later, Zepeto arrived in the room.
"Why don't you leave Evel alone for a bit."
"Sorry. It's Dusty..."
"Hmm..."
For a moment, I flashed back to my school days in my previous life—a classmate who was hard of hearing from birth. Whenever he forgot homework or zoned out in class and got scolded, he'd play it off like he hadn't heard, using his disability as a shield. The teacher's face had looked just like that: transparent frustration, but unable to really punish him. Back then, as a kid, I'd secretly envied how he wriggled out of trouble every time.
And now here I was in another world, achieving self-actualization the same way. Long live fantasy worlds.
"I see. Dusty, huh... It seems to be getting craftier by the day—starting to take after its master, perhaps."
I let Zepeto's jab slide in one ear and out the other.
"Still, you can't go hitting friends. Write a reflection."
"Here."
I pulled the one I'd pre-written that morning from my pocket and handed it over. Zepeto's expression turned subtly odd.
"Right. So, why'd you call me?"
I cut straight to the chase.
"I've gotten interested in geometry and magic circles. Could you teach me?"
"Oho! Truly?"
His face lit up instantly.
Zepeto knew a ton, especially about life magic and geometry. I planned to learn geometry from him going forward.
Why geometry, of all things? Simple: it's the backbone and foundation of every magic circle. A magic circle is, at its core, a formula that defines the laws of the world using shapes and lines, containing them within. Whether for theory, spells, or sealing something away, it's all built on mathematical elements.
I intended to use that to craft a sealing magic circle and trap Dusty inside.
Of course, by common sense, sealing a Destiny in a physical magic circle is impossible. Being so rooted in theory and numbers, it can only contain clear, real-world laws. Abstract concepts like Destiny can't be crammed in. Normally, it'd be an idea not even worth attempting.
But...
Now that it has a sense of self, it's not entirely impossible.
Dusty's case was special. I'd given it a name, birthing a sense of self—which was causing me all this grief. But flip that around: with a clear ego, it was no longer purely abstract. A name anchors it to the world. And that meant it couldn't be wholly free from the world's laws anymore.
I wasn't 100% sure, but I decided to bet on the possibility.
I dove straight into my inner world and notified Dusty.
Wait there. I'll shove you in some parchment soon and burn it to a crisp.
It started buzzing anxiously in the dustbin—probably unnerved by my confident declaration. Hell, it was even wiggling little dust tendrils like it wanted to negotiate.
No dice. I said 500% tariff, remember?
Too late for regrets now. The window for compromise had closed. Better brace itself.
"What brought on this sudden change of heart? You were so averse to it last time."
"I awakened to the beauty of formulas and shapes. I want to discover more beauty."
"Ooooh...!"
I fobbed Zepeto off with a vague "got interested." If I told him the real reason, he'd try to stop me. I was well aware of the risks. It hadn't even been long since he'd warned me not to suppress my Destiny too harshly—and this was beyond suppression; it was outright eradication.
But think about it. How much had I lost because of Dusty? It stole my name, ruined my shot at a cushy life sucking honey as the count's daughter, kept me from using magic freely. And that's not all—it made me see Zepeto as some weird old man with baby talk and regression issues, turned Evel into an annoying trash-collecting pest who popped up at the worst times. Making me think that way about my precious family? Unforgivable.
You don't negotiate with terrorists.
After that, my days became a nonstop grind of studying. Zepeto absolutely adored math and geometry, and he eagerly accepted my request. Evel hated using her brain and refused to learn, so my plea must have properly ignited his passion for teaching.
"Now behold. In the hexagram based on the Intersecting Formation of the Six Sages, if we take the radius of the encircling circle as the measure of the axis, the area of the hexagonal barrier formed within is the axis measure squared, multiplied by the proportionality constant of three nested roots halved. But to fully bind its flow, we must account for the mana refraction rate by twisting the formula. Apply the law of ether conservation across the entire array of the formation's domain, and..."
Long story short, I wanted to tear my hair out right then and there. Why was the average IQ in this medieval fantasy world so damn high? Wasn't this supposed to be Happy Medieval-land, overflowing with barbarians? What the hell was this? What was I even learning? Calculus? Euclidean geometry? I got that it was math, but all the terms were so different from modern ones that my head felt like it might split open.
Why is this so hard...!
I clawed at my hair.
"Shall we move on? Next up is..."
Zepeto was an excellent teacher, but once he got going, he was like a wild horse with the reins off—charging ahead without giving the student time to digest.
I really should have remembered that wizards are all a little mad in some corner. My mistake.
"If we substitute the reverse mana wave into the end of this formula, doesn't the door to the seventh dimension open naturally? ...Are you listening?"
I was. And I understood jack squat.
"........."
Staring blankly at the parchment covered in shapes, I fell silent—then promptly shut my eyes and dove into my inner world.
Want to make up?
Sometimes, the time for compromise arrives dramatically.