The Weight of a Secret
There are times when a room becomes thick with an uncomfortable, stifling atmosphere. It happens not just in physical spaces, but over phone calls and even in the exchange of text messages. I’d be acting like my usual self, yet the response I get feels… off, somehow. The other person doesn't bring up the issue, and they aren't exactly doing anything productive, either. They just let that heavy, suffocating air linger until, just as they’re about to leave, they start with, "Come here for a second." That kind of atmosphere.
If this were German, I bet there’d be a single word for it. Since it’s a language of compound nouns, they probably have a word for "the terror of an impending deadline" or "a joke you thought of too late." If it’s German, it’s definitely possible.
“…….”
“…….”
Right now, I was trapped in exactly that kind of atmosphere. My ability to endure it by thinking about other things had reached its limit. Someone, please, get me out of here.
It had been a normal day. After that "field training," I thought I’d be suffering from fatigue for a few days, but my body had returned to its normal rhythm faster than expected. The next day, I thought I’d have to dedicate myself to nursing the protagonist, who had come down with a summer cold, but by evening, they seemed well enough to wander around, and by the next morning, they were perfectly fine. Is this the level of vitality you need to survive in a fantasy world? But the protagonist isn't even originally from Edenia… It was a difficult problem to wrap my head around.
Having overcome all those piled-up obstacles, I arrived at Meredith’s inn room, only to step into a space where the very air felt like it was plastered to the floor. In truth, it wasn't entirely unexpected. It must have been because of what happened during the battle with Onyxia at the end of the field training. Even if it was within the realm of possibility, I hadn't expected this kind of reaction. I had imagined she would grab my shoulders and shake the truth out of me, or sit me down right there and interrogate me. Does she have that much to think about?
The only sound in the room was Meredith tapping her desk. From the perspective of the person being interrogated, it felt like my blood was drying up the longer it went on; I wished she would just speak plainly. Should I be the one to break the silence? Just as that thought crossed my mind, Meredith spoke first.
"Hazel, how did you do it?"
"What do you mean by 'how'…?"
"Obviously, what happened back then! How did you just reach in and use someone else's spell slot like that?"
Meredith began to pull over the tools she had pushed aside earlier. It was exactly how she started her lessons. "Do you have any idea what an incredible thing you’ve done? My goodness, that’s something mages have been searching for forever, and you just did it like it was nothing."
Ink, pens, scrap paper for notes, reference books… her hands moved skillfully as she spoke. Was it just my imagination? It almost felt like nothing was different from usual. "Do you know how old the attempts to use another person's slot are? Way back, when the Magic Empire existed… Hey, are you listening?"
Wait, was Meredith always this talkative? She pulled a scrap of cloth from the corner to wipe away a stray drop of ink, placed it on the desk, and sat back down. The talking stopped as if by magic. Meredith let out a long sigh and looked back at me.
"Hazel, who else knows you can do this?"
"The three who were there."
"Right. Me, Jiun, and that demon named Onyxia…" She said, jotting things down on her scrap paper one by one. "Then it seems almost no one else knows. Hands."
It was time. I obediently held out both hands. Meredith pressed her palms against mine and interlaced our fingers. Holding hands like this—I don't think I’ve done this since my parents played peek-a-boo with me when I was a toddler. Or was it back in elementary school playing hand-clapping games?
"Focus. Don't think about anything else."
With those final words, Meredith closed her eyes. Pain flowed in from my left hand. It traveled up my arm, passed through my Mana Circle, and spread throughout my entire body. The agony that had permeated every corner of my extremities returned, flowing out through my right hand. It hurt, but… it was bearable.
"It might feel a little ticklish, so just bear with it."
Ticklish? What on earth is she talking about? Am I the only one who feels this much pain? I had assumed other mages possessed superhuman mental fortitude, but was it just me who felt this agony? Once I started focusing on it, it felt even worse. I had to endure it. I had no idea why this pain only happened to me, but—no, actually, I had an inkling. It was obviously because of the slave brand. Whether my guess was right or wrong, if I showed I was in pain now, things would only get more complicated. Let's endure it… I didn't yet grasp the level of social stigma against slaves, but judging by Ameryel’s precedent, I knew it wouldn't end well if I were found out.
My legs twisted in discomfort. The circle spun violently, and the pain radiated through my whole body. "Hmm… I can't really tell. Do you not feel anything? Compared to what I’m doing, it should be… wait, hey, why are you sweating so much?"
Oh no. I was caught. As Meredith let go of my hands, the pain began to subside slowly. She placed her hand on my forehead to check for a fever and examined my body, asking if I was alright. What should I do? Should I run? Or should I lie? Meredith had a sharp side, but she was also secretly soft, so she might let it slide if I fumbled through an excuse. While I was agonizing over how to get out of this crisis, Meredith seemed lost in deep thought, perhaps trying to figure out how to explain this situation. Seeing that, all I could do was pray in my heart.
Please, let her not notice. Oh, you nameless Four Great Gods, I'm sorry. From now on, I won't run away when Ameryel asks me to read the scriptures. I was called a little nun, after all, so please, have some mercy and let me off just this once…
"Hazel."
Meredith broke the silence. Her eyes were incredibly sharp. It was hard to believe someone with a tear mole could look like that; usually, they were supposed to exude a gentle aura. "Take it off."
"Pardon?"
"It's better if you show me yourself before I have to find it."
Those were the eyes of someone who had lost their mind.
Hazel carefully loosened her buckle and took off her outer garment. It was a slightly embarrassing situation, but even that scene couldn't easily enter my mind. My head was filled with only one thought. And when I saw the brand engraved on Hazel's chest… honestly, I couldn't think of anything. My mind just went blank.
Hazel was a slave? A child this small, and with a guardian who seemed perfectly fine? Hazel and the guardian were of different races, but still, I had thought he was a reasonably kind guardian. At first, he took such special care of her that I thought he was her older brother. Could it be? Did Jiun simply snatch Hazel away from wherever she was being held? Because he's a rogue?
My head was a mess. It was worse than when a professor dumped a mountain of assignments on us on the first day of the semester. Now that I think about it, all the worries I had at the Academy seemed pointless. In the face of true shock, everything feels like a trivial, insect-like concern.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Put it back on."
It was a brand related to mana nerves. A Mana Nerve Engraving! It was a brand that any mage in this world would find abhorrent. What kind of human scum would think to carve such a brand onto a child this small? Mana nerves are delicate. Unless one is already adept at handling spells or has finished growing, one has to train with extreme caution, coaxing them along gently. In the old days, when spells weren't as refined, having sturdy mana nerves was often the top priority for marriage conditions among prestigious magic families. And yet, this child was so young, had never undergone training, and was a beastkin to boot?
Now, I understood to some extent. There was a reason Hazel’s body adapted so quickly despite being a beastkin. I felt pathetic for having thought, "I guess outstanding individuals appear even among beastkin." I should have been suspicious from the start. Hazel’s talent wasn't innate. It was manufactured! Her mana nerves, which should have been cramped by the flow of beastkin blood, had been torn to shreds and forcibly widened by the carving of the brand.
Another reason to take her to the Academy had just emerged. One of those old geezers must know how to treat this body. But before that, there was one thing I had to confirm.
"Hazel, do you know what that brand signifies?"
The child nodded in response.
"Do you… do you know who the master, or rather, the owner is? Ha… what should I even call this?"
An affirmation returned immediately.
"Is it… is it Jiun?"
The answer didn't come back right away. Hazel averted her gaze and hesitated. However, sometimes silence serves as a more definitive answer than words. I had thought they were just a kind guardian and a talented child… Short memories swirled in Meredith’s mind. The girl’s heart grew complicated.