The Promise That Shattered
Morning of the second day of the dispatch.
Finished with breakfast, Simon and Merida set off across the 60th floor to begin their 'Cleaning'.
With the day's schedule starting bright and early, the quota was steep—at least five Cores had to be destroyed before they'd earn any free time.
"Simon, over there!"
Gotcha!
Merida seized his wrist and hauled him along. Simon wheezed as he was dragged in her wake.
"What's the big hurry, Merida?"
She glanced back and blinked at him as if he'd just asked something self-evident.
"I want to finish up fast so I can sleep."
"You already slept once after breakfast!"
"I want to sleep more."
She is truly the sleepiest person alive.
And so, as the two of them went about destroying Cores near the 60th floor, they ran into every manner of person imaginable. The 60th-floor range seemed to have become something of a hotspot—not that anyone could climb past the 70th, with Girdon lurking above.
"I am moved to tears! To witness with my own eyes the moment the Pongkure Formula is completed!"
One man wept hot tears of gratitude.
-Will you walk with me?
"It would be my honor. Until the day this ends, I shall stand beside you."
Another one had thrown himself into history, playing pretend at being a character in the scene.
"No! War is absolutely forbidden! In exactly two weeks you will die by the blade of your own ally!"
And then there was the man hopelessly over-immersed.
This was a temporal anomaly recreating a single moment of the past—nothing they changed here would actually alter history.
But this man was jabbing a finger at the actors, his face flushed crimson.
"Yes, you! You killed the Count! Don't think I don't know you're a spy sent from Kalross!"
The man blurted out every historical event that was still to come. The eyes of the historical figures listening turned suspiciously sharp, and before long their faces began to twist into something monstrous and grotesque.
-How? How? How? How? How?
-But I know it too. But I know it too. But I know it too.
-Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
Startled too late, the man yelped and stumbled backward.
"Back off!"
KWA-BOOM!
Simon hurled a Chaos Spear to cut off their advance.
"Do you not know the rules of the Tower? If you keep that up, the monsters will just multiply!"
"I—I only—! It's just so maddening, knowing and still being unable to stop it...! That man is my ancestor!"
"Even if you succeed here, you can't change the present."
Simon answered coolly and drew out a second Chaos Spear.
"Merida, help me with—huh?"
But then.
Merida was sprawled in a sunlit window, curled up in her signature 'cat-loaf' posture, dozing off with a blissful look on her face, head bobbing with every nod.
"Get up, Merida!"
It was, all in all, a dispatch assignment utterly lacking in any sense of urgency.
Dawn arrived.
A thick darkness blanketed the Tower, and once again Simon had come to meet the Ghost of Time.
[You've come.]
Just as the day before, the Ghost of Time helped him disable the security spell formation on the 63rd floor. Simon slipped safely inside and activated Nephthys's artifact.
"Phew."
When the recording was finished, Simon tucked the briefcase into his sub-space and sank into a chair with a troubled expression.
The Ghost of Time chuckled softly.
[You look unwell.]
"I'm worried."
Simon rested his chin on his hand and looked at him.
"More than that—aren't you being far too calm? In three days, the Tower of Time is coming down. If the Tower goes wrong, you'll vanish along with it."
[It isn't calmness—it's simply knowing there's nothing to be done.]
the Ghost of Time said.
[I can see time, but at the same time I am a being that belongs to the Tower. Whatever I might do, I cannot change the Tower's future, now blackened as it is.]
With that, the Ghost of Time pointed at Simon.
[An outsider, and one who bears a special power—you alone are the hope. All I can do is exert influence upon you.]
"Then instead of showing me Mayrin and Serne's past, wouldn't it be faster to just tell me what I need to do?"
[There is no need for haste.]
the Ghost of Time said.
[Every event unfolds according to its appointed hour. What matters most right now is that you come, slowly and carefully, to know the truth about the Ivory Tower.]
A somewhat flimsy logic, perhaps—still, it reminded Simon that a transcendent being was, in the end, a transcendent being.
Simon rose from his seat.
"Then let's begin."
[Very well.]
The Ghost of Time swept his hand, and the space around Simon was washed over in gray, like a scene from history.
Tee-hee-hee!
Ahahaha!
In time, Mayrin and Serne became the very best of friends.
As the two of them grew close, the Ivory Tower children who had once mocked Serne as a beggar's child began to mingle with her naturally as well.
With Mayrin's help, Serne adapted quickly to life in the Ivory Tower.
"Ah, I'm worn out!"
The two girls, thoroughly played out, flopped down onto the grass.
They gazed blankly up at the white clouds, then turned their heads at the same moment to look at each other—and promptly burst out laughing. Simply meeting each other's eyes was enough to make them happy.
"Today's lessons were fun, weren't they, Seri?"
"Mm-hm. I liked drawing what we'll be like in the future. What do you want to be when you grow up, Mayrin?"
"Me?"
Mayrin grinned.
"I'm going to be a magnificent Lady of the Ivory Tower when I grow up!"
"Whoa!"
"And then I'll make the Tower flourish more than anyone ever has! I'll make the people outside look up to us again!"
"But isn't it Kizen's era right now?"
"Higher than Kizen. Greater than Kizen!"
Mayrin stretched her hand toward the clouds, making a motion of seizing one and closing her fist around it.
"By any means necessary, I'll bring back the glorious age of the Ivory Tower!"
The education the children of the Ivory Tower received above all else was history.
Two thousand years of age. Two thousand years of the Tower's greatness.
Every child here carried a towering pride in the Ivory Tower.
"Mm-hm. You'll make a wonderful Lady of the Ivory Tower, Mayrin."
Serne said. Mayrin suddenly went red in the face and turned her head away in embarrassment.
Serne chuckled, hooked her little finger up, and held it out.
"I promise. Mayrin."
"Promise what?"
She curled her own finger around Mayrin's.
"I'm going to make you the Lady of the Ivory Tower."
"...Mm. Thank you, Seri."
It was a heartwarming sight.
And then.
Simon, watching all of this from a distance, was scratching at the side of his head.
They were that close back then—so how on earth did they become rivals?
Shaaaah—
Gray filled the surroundings as the scene shifted.
Considerable time had passed, it seemed—Mayrin and Serne had both shed their childish air and were beginning to carry themselves like proper young ladies.
"Hah... hah..."
Kneeling on the floor before the two of them sat a white orb.
Mayrin panted, staring at it. Its surface was buried so deeply in ice that she could barely make out its shape.
I did it...!
She wiped the sweat streaming down her face and smiled.
The teacher who taught them magic smiled warmly as well.
"What remarkable talent, Lady Mayrin. To think you've already sheathed this orb in ice at your age."
Mayrin's head snapped up.
"It's impressive, right? Isn't it?"
"Of course. This orb is called the Orb of the Ice Emperor. No degree of skill in ice magic alone can freeze it. Only those blessed by the spirits—only the chosen—can ever ice it over."
As a child, Mayrin had frozen this orb and paraded the feat around, drawing the admiration of every adult in the Tower upon herself. That was why Mayrin had loved the orb.
The teacher turned to look at Serne, seated nearby.
"Then shall we have Lady Serne try as well?"
"Yes."
She calmly placed her hand upon the orb.
CRACK-BOOOOM!
The teacher's face went round as a saucer, he let out a strangled yelp, and he collapsed where he stood. The children around them were just as thrown into disarray.
The Orb of the Ice Emperor jutted upward in jagged spikes, like a glacier.
H-how is this possible! Even adult necromancers with open Cores can't do this—!
Serne lifted her head.
"Did I do well?"
"...Y-yes. Extraordinary."
Serne was utterly calm—but as Mayrin watched, a look of raw, aching envy spread across her face.
When the lesson ended, the two walked home side by side.
"Seri, that was amazing."
Mayrin muttered with a sullen expression. Serne blinked, then smiled brightly.
"It's nothing. With a little practice, you could do it just as well, Mayrin."
The truth was that Serne's talent had been erupting from the very moment she'd begun studying magic.
Mayrin, trained from childhood as a prodigy, had been considerably far ahead in her magical curriculum—but Serne had overtaken her in less than a year. Some of the adults were already saying that once Serne opened her Core and could clothe her magic in Jet-Black, the gap would widen far more.
"Seri!"
She couldn't be left behind like this. Mayrin clenched both fists and raised her voice.
"That ice magic assignment you were just given—can't you teach me? Right now!"
"Hm?"
A rueful smile crossed Serne's face.
"Learn from me? But you're the Ivory Tower's heiress, Mayrin."
"Oh, who cares about that! Teach me! I want to be better too!"
"Ah. Well. If you insist that much..."
"Thank you, Seri!"
Mayrin threw her arms around Serne in a bear hug. Serne smiled and gently smoothed her hair.
"So, where should we prac—"
"Lady Serne!"
Mages of the Ivory Tower came hurrying up to them, out of breath.
"The elders of the Tower summon you."
"Oh. All right."
Serne glanced back at Mayrin.
"I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you."
"...N-no, it's fine!"
Mayrin waved her hands, forcing a smile.
"Hurry back, Seri!"
"Mm. I'll be right back."
These days, Serne had a monopoly on the adults' attention.
Natural enough—hers was an absolute talent that might appear once in a thousand years.
-The word 'genius' is almost too small for her!
-That spell! Shall we attempt it ourselves?
-Heavens above! She's truly done it. My departed master—are you watching from beyond?
Teach her one thing, and she grasped twenty.
Her talent quite literally reached the heavens.
And naturally, whispers like these began to drift through the halls.
-Of course, the heiress Mayrin is also splendid, but...
-A pity, the rival she was given.
-The very comparison borders on the absurd.
The adults who had clicked their tongues at Serne's gutter-born origins when she first arrived were now enthralled by her talent.
-Serne! Hi there!
-Been well? Want to come eat lunch with us?
The children who had once teased Serne for being penniless now followed her alone. Every boy nursed a crush on her, and to the girls she was the object of pure admiration.
And, ironically, it was Mayrin—the first to open her heart and take Serne in—whose side was now left with nothing but Serne's shadow of absence.
"The elders called for me, but it was nothing much."
Serne chuckled.
"Just another demonstration of magic for them."
"...Oh. Is that so?"
Mayrin smiled without letting anything show.
All of it happened simply because Serne's skill was superior. None of it was Serne's fault.
And yet the more she reminded herself of that,
the more Mayrin felt herself shrinking, growing small and shabby in her own eyes.
"Hey—Seri?"
"Mm."
"About the seat of Lady of the Ivory Tower."
"Mm."
"The adults..."
Her lips trembled.
"They say you suit it better than me... and the truth is, I've been thinking the same..."
Gotcha.
Serne seized both of Mayrin's shoulders. Mayrin flinched and looked up.
"I made a promise, didn't I?"
Serne's gaze was earnest as she stared into her.
"Do you remember what I said? When I hooked my little finger with yours?"
"...Ah. Yes."
"What was it?"
Mayrin flushed scarlet and answered in a voice barely above a whisper.
"...Th-that you'd make me the Lady of the Ivory Tower."
"That's right."
Only then did Serne smile brightly.
"Whatever the adults say, the Lady of the Ivory Tower is you. Mayrin."
Her eyes went hot.
There was nothing to resent, nothing to envy.
Her friend was still her friend—and she was the one person who believed in Mayrin's dream of becoming the Lady of the Ivory Tower, cheering her on more sincerely than anyone else in the world.
"Thank you, Seri."
Bursting into tears, Mayrin pulled Serne into her arms.
The next morning.
Mayrin was hurrying along at a quick trot.
One of the adults had given her an errand: deliver a book to the Lord of the Ivory Tower.
Privately, Mayrin was pleased. It was a chance to make an impression on the Tower's ruler, even in some small way.
She knew he was on bad terms with her father—but he was still, unmistakably, the most powerful figure in the Tower, and the one who had named her heiress.
And then, out of nowhere, the thought struck her.
...Does the Lord of the Ivory Tower regret making me his heiress?
The question gnawed at her.
Serne, the Lord's own daughter, was a genius being called the greatest in the two-thousand-year history of the Ivory Tower.
In truth...
Mayrin admitted it to herself, in some corner of her heart.
That Serne was better suited to be the Lady of the Ivory Tower than she was.
The adults said so, and she felt it too.
Of course, once an heiress was chosen the decision was final—but she had heard that talk of amending the Tower's laws to seat Serne there was already circulating.
-I promise. I'm going to make you the Lady of the Ivory Tower.
-Whatever the adults say, the Lady of the Ivory Tower is you. Mayrin.
Coming from Serne, she could believe it.
If the Tower's laws changed and Serne became heiress, Mayrin intended to accept it.
And she had even resolved to be the one to persuade Serne, if Serne tried to refuse the seat. This time, she wanted to be the one to say it.
I'm going to make you the Lady of the Ivory Tower.
Hah.
Mayrin gathered her tangled feelings and strode onward.
"@^$#&!!"
But a loud commotion was spilling out of the Lord of the Ivory Tower's chamber.
Someone had arrived before her?
Mayrin quieted her footsteps and crept closer.
"Why? Father!"
A voice sharp enough to tear the air. Mayrin couldn't help but startle.
Seri?
She had never once seen Serne—always so poised and composed—shout in fury like this.
Curiosity drew Mayrin a few steps nearer.
"Mayrin doesn't have the skill for it!"
Thud.
Mayrin felt her heart plunge straight down.
"Look at this! I froze the Orb of the Ice Emperor this much! Mayrin can't do anything like this!"
After one more admonishing word from the Lord of the Ivory Tower, Serne shouted out roughly:
"I will say this clearly—on this, and on this alone, I will not yield!"
That day, Mayrin—
"I am going to be the Lady of the Ivory Tower!"
—felt everything that had sustained her heart shatter into pieces.