You Look So Much Like Someone I Know
"You remind me so much of someone I know?"
In an instant, the warm, honeyed air around Israfil changed. A chill ran down Simon's spine, and Lethe, caught off guard, went wide-eyed like a startled rabbit.
Simon forced himself to think calmly.
Someone who looks like me? Could she know my parents?
It didn't feel like the kind of passing remark people throw around — "you look like so-and-so." Her voice, her expression, were deadly serious.
She had already settled on her own answer and was simply running through the procedure of confirming it. Deflecting the topic or muddying the point would clearly backfire.
I need to answer this really, really well.
She seemed like a good person, but she was still the Saintess of Efnel — the Dark Alliance's greatest enemy. He absolutely could not let his guard down.
After a moment of deliberation, Simon decided to stick his head straight into the lion's mouth.
"I don't know who it is you think I resemble, Saintess."
"But whatever you're imagining right now — I'd say you're right."
Even as he said it, Simon watched her expression with intense focus.
First, he had to determine whether the person she saw in him was someone negative to her — or positive.
"......"
Her trembling pupils betrayed hesitation. The corners of her mouth twitched. Her thoughts had frozen over, and her voice came out very slightly smothered.
She was at a loss for what to do. Thankfully, that was not a negative sign. The correct thing to say and what she truly felt were colliding with each other.
Good. Now I absolutely must not be the first to say it out loud.
Simon waited with patience, lips pressed into a firm line. And at last, her mouth opened.
"I see."
She turned her gaze on Lethe, eyes faintly reproachful. Lethe flinched.
"Saintess Israfil! I— I only—!"
"Stay still, Lethe. So that's how it was. You refused my invitation to visit during the break and went off somewhere far away."
Her gaze shifted to Simon.
"Let me ask you again, Priest Ska. Are you Anna's son?"
Israfil's reasoning would have been sound. Simon bowed his head.
"Yes. I came here to save my mother, who has fallen ill."
Whoosh!
Simon doubted his own eyes. Israfil had stepped forward and abruptly pulled him into an embrace.
The situation was so sudden that Simon's whole body went rigid.
"Ohh."
Releasing her arms, Israfil studied Simon's face with shining, moved eyes.
"Smile for me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Smile. Quickly, now."
Her voice carried an almost desperate urgency. Simon, unsure what else to do, managed to arrange his face into the most winning smile he could muster.
"Ohh."
Tears of emotion welled in her pitch-black pupils.
"Your smile is the very image of Anna's."
With those words, Israfil drew Simon into another tight embrace.
Strangely enough, hearing that he resembled Anna made the wall of wariness Simon had been holding up crumble away like grains of sand.
"Forgive my rudeness, but what is your relationship with my mother?"
"Let me think."
Closing her eyes once more to hide her black irises, Israfil smiled softly and stepped back from him.
"Sisters, bound not by blood. That's how I would define it."
"Oh."
Simon smiled back at her.
"Then Saintess Israfil is my aunt."
"!"
At those words, Israfil leapt several meters into the air before coming back down.
"Say it again! Say it once more!"
"A-Aunt?"
"Hohohoho!"
Meanwhile, Lethe, watching the whole scene from a short distance away, wore an utterly dumbfounded expression.
I've never seen Saintess Israfil this excited. What on earth?
There was a reason Lethe had kept Simon's existence a secret from her.
If she had asked Israfil for aid — asked her to help Anna and Simon — then not only Lethe but Israfil too would have sinned against the Goddess. It was enough that one person bore that sin.
And more than anything, Israfil never voiced a single opinion about Anna.
In the Holy Federation, Anna was a traitor — a woman who had latched onto a necromancer, abandoned her sacred duties as a Saintess, and betrayed her homeland. For Israfil, a Saintess, being asked how she felt about Anna was itself an insult.
Israfil spoke.
"I've been worried sick. Ties between the Holy Federation and the Dark Alliance have deteriorated terribly lately, and all logistics have been under strict control. I fretted over whether the medicine supplied each year would actually make its way to Anna."
Her gaze turned to Lethe.
"Priest Ska crossed the border in search of medicine for our nephew, and Lethe was guiding him. Am I right to understand it that way?"
"N-no, not quite! I already delivered the medicine to Teacher Anna! It's just that another problem has come up—!"
Lethe explained everything from beginning to end. Israfil listened gravely, then nodded.
"So the Essence of Purification lodged itself in Anna... I see. So that's why."
Israfil rested a hand on her hip.
"And you meant to go to the Tree of Life to obtain the 'White Leaf,' the most crucial material for the surgery? That's reckless in the extreme. How exactly did you plan to get it?"
Simon and Lethe exchanged an uneasy glance, and Israfil raised her voice.
"Stop looking at each other and speak up!"
The atmosphere was that of being scolded. As Lethe fidgeted in confusion, Simon answered in her place.
"We intended to travel to where the Tree of Life stands and negotiate with the tree's keepers."
Simon drew the ancient imperial coins from his pocket.
"And if the negotiation failed, we considered stealing it. I'm sorry."
Israfil shook her head in exasperation.
"Youthful daring is one thing, but there are limits! The mountain where the Tree of Life stands is crawling with Class 6 and Class 7 monsters! You meant for two students to punch through that?"
At that, Lethe bristled and cut in.
"You know how strong I am! If it's me, I could—!"
"Not another word, Lethe. When you return to Efnel after the break, it's one month of fasting."
Lethe hung her head, sunk in gloom.
Three months of self-imposed fasting, plus another month on the Saintess's orders. She might spend an entire semester eating nothing but watery, flavorless porridge.
Israfil turned her eyes to Simon.
"Of course, that necromancer who's about to become my brother-in-law would surely have arranged some method or other... Still."
Simon flinched at that.
"As an adult, I cannot permit children to travel to a place so dangerous."
"Saintess Israfil! We absolutely must—!"
"I'll get it for you."
"I'm sorry?"
When Simon made a flustered sound, Israfil smiled warmly.
"Within this Holy Federation, I am a demigod. There is nothing here my power cannot accomplish. I will obtain it, without fail."
Every word dripped with trust. Just as she said — if a Saintess herself stepped forward, what could possibly be impossible in this land?
Moved, Simon bowed his head at once.
"Thank you so much, Saintess Israfil!"
At that, Israfil smiled once more.
"There's a villa I purchased nearby. Let's go there."
As Israfil moved her fingers, the three of them were enveloped in droplets of water.
The villa Israfil brought them to was a quiet wooden house overlooking the sea.
Simon and Lethe spent two days living there. The exhaustion of their travels and battles had accumulated, it seemed, because they spent most of their time doing nothing but sleeping.
Simon realized that pushing on to the Tree of Life in that condition would indeed have been difficult.
Two days later, Israfil returned.
"Didn't I say I'd get it?"
When she opened the box, a white leaf nestled in a red cushion came into view.
Remarkably, a faint divinity radiated from the leaf, and its distinctive pattern matched Richard's description exactly.
Simon's arms trembled.
To think we'd obtain it this easily!
Israfil held the box open, watching Simon with expectant eyes. Before long, Simon broke into a bright smile and spoke.
"Thank you so much, Auntie!"
The upward twitch of Israfil's lips was barely perceptible, but Lethe — who knew that this was, for her, an enormous cry of joy — snickered.
The three of them shared dinner and talked.
"By the way, Saintess Israfil."
"Yes, go ahead."
"You said you and my mother are sisters not bound by blood. But what was your relationship with her, exactly?"
"Ah. I never did explain, did I."
Strictly speaking, she was not truly Simon's aunt.
Back in her days as a Saintess, Israfil had been Anna's maidservant. Just as Anna had taken in the orphaned Lethe, she had once taken in the homeless Israfil as well.
Anna had marked Israfil's talent early on. When Anna rose to Saintess, she passed the vacant seat of eldest daughter of the Cross family to Israfil, and when Anna enrolled at Efnel, she personally petitioned the Pope so that Israfil — then nothing more than a maid — could study there as well.
Mistress and servant had become inseparable friends, spent their school days side by side, and graduated at the very top of their class.
"Someday, you will succeed me, Israfil."
When Anna — the star of stars in those days — had said that, Israfil had tilted her head in puzzlement. She had graduated second in the class behind Anna, but even so, she was no match for Anna's genius.
She hadn't understood those words at the time.
Then one day, Anna was caught up in a great incident and vanished. Rumors soon spread that she had married a necromancer and given up her Saintesshood.
Efnel, fearing for the dignity of the clergy and the possible collapse of the Saintesses' authority, announced that Anna had died a martyr in battle. And the Essence of Miracle, passed through countless Saintess candidates, at last came to Israfil.
And so the years had carried them to the present.
Now I'm curious.
Simon rested his chin on his hand as he listened to Israfil's reminiscences.
What was my mother like in her Saintess days?
Every time Simon had found himself in a crisis, people who owed their salvation to Anna — Lethe, Israfil, and others — had kept appearing to lend him a hand.
Even now, even if they were technically enemies, they had not forgotten Anna.
He had been curious about Richard's school days too — the infamous troublemaker and Legion Commander of Kizen — but now he found himself equally curious about Anna's days as a Saintess at Efnel.
"It may sound odd, coming from a Saintess."
Israfil said, lifting her fork.
"From now on, you are never to speak Anna's name to anyone in the Holy Federation, nor reveal your identity first. That was a genuinely dangerous thing you did."
Her point was well taken.
Israfil was something of an oddity in the Holy Federation, and among the Priests there were far more radical fanatics like Chief Inquisitor Late.
If the name of the traitor Anna came up, they would gnash their teeth and try to kill him on the spot.
"Lethe and I happen to be entangled with you on rather personal terms, so you were fortunate. But you are a necromancer. The moment you meet a Priest, be on your guard without exception, and be prepared to fight them down. I say this for your own sake."
She meant that from now on, he must carry the awareness of what he was — a necromancer — and never mistake friend for foe.
Had he met Israfil on a battlefield rather than as a friend of Lethe's, Simon could well have died at her hands.
And of course, there was no guarantee such a thing wouldn't happen in the future.
Simon nodded earnestly.
"I'll keep that in mind. But knowing that people like the two of you exist gives me hope."
"Hohoho! Our nephew certainly has a silver tongue."
...Huh? What is this?
With Israfil doting so single-mindedly on Simon, Lethe was beginning to feel oddly left out.
Hmm. So is this what that guy felt back then, watching me and Teacher Anna play together?
"If you don't eat that omelet, I'm taking it."
"Ah! I'm eating it!"
Israfil watched the two of them scuffle with an amused smile, then spoke.
"So, will you be returning to the Dark Alliance tomorrow?"
"Yes."
Simon nodded.
"Now that we have what we came for, I want to hurry back and treat my mother."
"Of course. Anna's health comes first. If it were up to me, I'd prepare a long-range teleportation circle for you myself."
"No, no, we couldn't possibly impose more. We'll take the Holy Rail back."
Simon knew that Israfil had to leave for the Sky Island early the next morning. Israfil looked at Lethe.
"Guide him well until the very end, Lethe."
"Yes, yes. I know."
She answered with her lips pushed out in a pout. Israfil quietly chuckled and rose from her seat.
"Well then, shall we all head to bed?"
"Yes!"
After parting ways with Israfil, the two returned to the city with the rail station and boarded the Holy Rail.
Nothing about it was difficult. All they had to do was retrace their route back the way they had come.
Except—
"Third class?! Are you kidding me?!"
Lethe wailed.
The return train had no reservations, and every seat in first and second class was taken.
In theory, Lethe could have brandished her Efnel uniform, driven the first-class passengers down to third, and claimed their seats — but neither of them wanted to go that far.
In the end, they settled for third class on the way back.
"Oh, looks like we've got newcomers."
"Welcome aboard~"
Simon returned the greeting warmly. Lethe gave only a sullen little nod, then climbed up into her second-level bunk.
There were heresy inquisitors on this train too, interrogating passengers with unusual rigor on account of the recent train abduction incidents — but Simon had already been thoroughly tempered by Metin's interrogation.
He could pass through without raising a shred of suspicion.
"Hup."
Simon climbed into his bunk and took out some paper.
He had written a letter to every single member of his group, one by one, planning to send them once he returned home.
— To Dick.
— To Meilin.
— To Camibarez.
The start of the new term at Kizen is coming up soon, isn't it.
With his heart fluttering in anticipation, Simon picked up his quill.