Familiar, Yet Unfamiliar (1)
When Marei returned from Ran's Shrine to the academy, lunchtime had already slipped quietly past. The corridors were nearly empty; aside from the occasional hurried student rushing to make up for lost time, no one else wandered the halls. Marei had lingered far longer than intended, lost in the endless, yielding embrace of Ran's body as she accepted his desire without end. He had even stayed to help with the aftermath, only to remember his afternoon appointment and leave with a hasty apology. The thought of Ran now, cradling her swollen belly as though already heavy with child while drawing out every last drop, made his spent length stir once more. Sticky longing tugged at his ankles, yet he forced his thoughts elsewhere and quickened his steps like everyone else. He had wanted to press his hand against that rounded belly, but time was unforgivingly tight. The thoroughly indecent notion of stepping on his master's stomach next time rose naturally in his mind.
Valter Academy was vast. Marei was slowly growing accustomed to school life, yet the sheer scale of the grounds still left him wondering when—if ever—he would truly feel at home. It was time to meet Celine. Only then did he realize they had never properly exchanged contact information. All he knew of Celine Ferdinand was that she was eighteen—seventeen by imperial reckoning—and that she carried the clear, refreshing scent one might find by a dawn-lit lake. Come to think of it, there were no classes this afternoon, so returning home would have been perfectly acceptable. He belatedly felt guilty for what he had done to Ran. The hazy memory surfaced: Friday afternoons were meant for meeting Senior Celine regarding the mentorship program. Perhaps it was Ran's fault after all; she had been the one to seduce him so thoroughly with that small body. The thought eased his conscience a little.
Even so, Marei made his way to the beautifully tended garden where he had last met Celine. By the time sweat soaked his back, he finally found the spot—only to discover Celine was nowhere to be seen.
“I knew you would be waiting.”
Marei, who had been reading while waiting for Celine, lifted his head at the unfamiliar voice. Flames blazed right before his eyes—fierce, searing flames that looked ready to consume anything. Startled by the sudden vision, Marei could only stare blankly at the flickering fire. It was profoundly sacred, yet somehow profane.
“Are you all right, Marei de Pawen?”
“Angel…?”
At the sound of the voice once more, the towering flames vanished without a trace. In their place stood the angel. Crimson hair, crimson eyes—an embodiment of fire given human form. The dissonance was striking, yet it only heightened her allure.
“Hm? Not entirely wrong… though I believe I introduced myself as Shasha last time?”
“I-I’m sorry. I remembered your name, but… when I saw the wings, it just slipped out.”
“Hahaha… Well, I am an angel, so it’s not incorrect. Being called ‘angel’ is a little embarrassing, though.”
Shasha bent down to meet Marei’s gaze, then straightened and looked down at him. Her sparkling red eyes and hair that burned redder than sunset carried a strange, captivating magic. “Teacher Marcre…”
“I believe I asked you to call me Senior Shasha. Speak comfortably, all right?”
Shasha covered her mouth and laughed softly. Despite her appearance that seemed ready to ignite at any moment, her presence felt remarkably gentle and soothing. Without a veil, dressed in a white nun’s habit, her wings—tall as an adult man—rested behind her like ornaments.
“Celine didn’t show up again, did she?”
“Not ‘again’… she just hasn’t arrived yet.”
Shasha let out a small sigh. “I thought this time would be different. She must be busy. If you have nothing else to do, would you like me to take you somewhere interesting?”
“Yes.”
Marei nodded readily at the offer. While he did not dislike studying, Valter—and the academy—remained full of wonders to a boy who had yet to shed his country roots. Curiosity warred with his timid nature, leaving him watching silently rather than asking questions.
“Where are we going?”
“A choir rehearsal. Come on, grab your book and let’s go. If Ilien sees you alone, she’ll definitely have something to say about it. She’s scarier than she looks when she’s angry.” Shasha smiled playfully.
Following Shasha, they arrived at a cathedral so beautifully constructed that it inspired reverence. Though not particularly grand, it was a single-story structure whose ceiling soared dozens of meters high—an unusual design. Beyond the massive doors, at least five meters tall, faint, clear voices could be heard.
“We seem to be a little late.”
Shasha winked with one eye and carefully opened the door. Without a sound, the wooden doors parted to reveal soprano voices weaving harmonies in an ancient tongue too difficult to understand.
“Wow…”
Dozens of people sang as though they were one. Unfamiliar words brushed past his ears; tenor voices filled the cathedral, followed by lower harmonies. Light poured through the stained glass in a dazzling play of colors.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Yes!”
At the sight of Marei clapping softly with sparkling eyes, Shasha let out a quiet laugh. The hymn gradually faded, as though preparing to leap forward, then slowly died away. A woman in a white gown dotted with gold walked slowly to the center.
“Look, that girl is the main soprano.”
A brown-haired girl stood before the microphone, taking a small breath. Something about her face seemed familiar. Marei stepped closer to see the lead soprano’s features clearly: brown hair tied in a ponytail, dark eyes, a face that looked stubborn.
“Gilia Marita…?”
“You know her?”
“Yes, ah… she’s my cousin.”
What a coincidence. Shasha, who had been watching Gilia while murmuring so softly it was nearly lost beneath the choir’s harmonies, observed the girl who dreamed of becoming an officer. Standing at the center of the choir and producing a clear soprano voice—so unlike the rigid image of a soldier—Gilia drew an admiring murmur from Marei.
“She sings… beautifully.”
“She’s still a little rough. Even now her range wavers slightly.”
To Marei’s ears the performance sounded flawless, yet Shasha shook her head in mild disapproval. He had thought she would be like Lee Ha-eun—full of mischief—but she was strangely strict.
“That girl knows it too. I suppose I’ll have to step in. Stay right here and don’t go anywhere, all right?”
At Shasha’s earnest request, Marei nodded. Smiling brightly as though pleased by his obedience, Shasha walked slowly forward. Her crimson lashes were strikingly attractive.
The once-perfect harmonies began to lose direction. The sacred quality of the hymn melted into something ordinary. Gilia’s face turned pale; confusion spread across the choir members’ expressions.
“~♬”
Approaching the front, Shasha placed a hand over her heart and continued the hymn in the ancient tongue. Color returned to Gilia’s cheeks. Taking Gilia’s wrist as the girl tried to step away from the central microphone, Shasha positioned her in front of it and urged her on, gradually drawing out her voice. Gilia licked her dry lips, met Shasha’s gaze, nodded, and began to sing—reaching heights that seemed impossible for a human voice—following Shasha’s lead.
Light filtered through the stained glass, illuminating the cathedral. At its center stood Shasha, hands clasped neatly, wings slowly unfurling. White feathers drifted weightlessly, scattering in every direction and sparkling with the colors of the glass. To Marei, watching her, she seemed the very image of a protagonist from a book or film—beautiful, devout, impossible to look away from. Though he felt a twinge of guilt toward Erden, the sight of Shasha singing with angelic wings spread wide felt far more saintly than anything else.
The choir’s supporting voices grew quieter until they faded entirely, yet Shasha’s voice rose higher and stronger, completing the sacred hymn alone. It was breathtakingly beautiful and wondrous. Elves, beastkin, vampires—all were beings of the same world, yet Shasha singing looked as though a page from a storybook had come to life. Unreal, perhaps. Marei stared at her, entranced. Her voice soared to the very limit of human range, bursting forth with power. An inexplicable tremor ran through his body. He did not know what emotion he felt, only that he wanted to capture her figure and voice exactly as they were—from beginning to end. Gilia’s voice beside him was barely audible; Shasha’s alone held an irresistible charm.
“Not bad, was it?”
“Ah, yes? Yes? Ah, yes. It was wonderful. Really…”
Startled by a voice, Marei came to his senses to find Shasha standing right in front of him. He remembered being lost in her voice, yet the hymn had already ended.
“If you praise me that much, I’ll get embarrassed.”
“You were truly amazing. Wow, I never thought I liked hymns much, but listening to your voice gave me chills. Honestly…”
Normally shy and awkward with compliments, Marei now wanted to express every bit of his admiration. Unable to find the right words, he stumbled over his speech.
“Enough, enough. If you keep complimenting me like that, I won’t be able to lift my head from embarrassment…”
“But…!”
“Gilia! Stop your cousin! I appreciate the praise, but it’s too much!”
Gilia looked away, embarrassed. Only then did Marei notice the choir members had gathered around him.
“This is the boy who came to observe, right?”
“Yes, Marei de Pawen. He said he’s Gilia’s cousin. I brought him without realizing it.”
“Pawen… as in the Governor-General’s…”
Whispers grew louder. Then came the inevitable questions. In the classroom they had asked about Labella; here, questions about Loren poured forth without pause.
“I… don’t have any particular connection with Lord Loren. I probably know even less about him than all of you.”
Marei knew every intimate detail about Labella—where her erogenous zones were, the location of every mole on her hips—yet he knew nothing of Loren. All he remembered clearly was the first time they met: those eyes that looked ready to cut a person down.
“Don’t torment the boy who came to observe. Gilia, your cousin is being harassed—aren’t you going to help?”
“Ah, yes! E-everyone, please stop…”
Gilia Marita had seemed stiff in class, yet here in the choir she was different. The brief thought crossed Marei’s mind. Once Gilia intervened, the barrage of questions subsided.
“It’s embarrassing how obviously everyone’s staring. If you’re interested in the choir, would you like to try?”
“Pardon?”
“You won’t be taking the spotlight like the sopranos or tenors, but adding harmonies is simple and fun. Students who come to observe or are introduced at the beginning of the semester often try it, so there’s no need to feel pressured. Ah, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Shasha waved her hands, careful not to burden him. The others watched Marei with familiar expressions, while Gilia signaled with her eyes and mouth that he should give it a try.
“I… I’ve never properly learned to sing before.”
“Ah, yes. I do know a few hymns. There was a place of worship where I used to live.”
“What’s your favorite piece? Hmm… everyone knows this one, so we won’t need sheet music. Let’s do it right away. Have you sung it before? Well, adding harmonies isn’t difficult for this piece. Shall we give it a try?”
At Shasha’s glance, the choir members nodded. Marei took the sheet music she offered and began to sing, stumbling along with the others.
“First time? It seems like it… but your voice is really good. I thought an elf was singing. How does a boy produce such a tone…?”
When the song ended, Shasha looked at Marei in surprise. The choir members beside them began praising him as well—commenting that his voice remained high because his voice hadn’t changed yet, that he had talent.
“I-It’s not that impressive.”
“No, no, it was really good. If you’re interested, you could join our practices. With a little polishing, you’d make a fine tenor even after your voice changes.”
At Shasha’s endless praise, Marei’s face flushed crimson and he bowed his head deeply. Though he wanted to sing more with them, the overwhelming compliments made him step back and watch their rehearsal in a daze. Whenever Gilia showed signs of faltering during the soprano highlight, Shasha naturally took over and completed the piece. Watching Gilia refuse to give up and Shasha’s wings flutter with joy, Marei could not take his eyes off Shasha until practice ended.