You Can't Go Back. Because I'll Make Sure of It.
Alevian reached out to steady the swaying Yona.
But Yona slapped the hand away without a shred of mercy and glared up at him.
She knew, of course. She knew this failure wasn't Alevian's fault, and it wasn't Escara's either.
It was because of what dwelled in her arms — those incomprehensible inscriptions scrawled across her right arm, and Berbaria coiled into her left. They were the reason. And yet she couldn't exactly go lopping her own arms off.
So this rage — this rage with nowhere to go, spewing out in no direction it could even name — was bound to leak through the smallest crack, no matter how hard she pressed it down.
Just like now, at Alevian.
Alevian simply watched as Yona knocked his hand aside. His eyes softened with something like pity, then clouded over with an unreadable, sly gleam, then softened once more — shifting and shifting again.
Yona stared back at that ever-changing face, just as quietly.
Her golden eyes were burning, vivid and bright. And now — now that the one and only goal she had chased all this time had lost its light and crumbled away — Yona bit her lip, hard.
"...My arm. This thing on my arm. That's why it failed, isn't it?"
Her voice didn't waver. It wasn't boiling with anger, either. It only trembled, faintly, from being strangled down and down again.
With that voice — more tightly reined in than usual — Yona pressed the question.
"If it weren't for this, for this, it would have worked. Right? That's true, isn't it, Alevian? What you told me earlier?"
Heat began to creep into her voice, little by little.
If it failed, then where? Why? And how could that failure be overcome? As Yona clawed for answers, Alevian nodded. It was no lie, which made answering her remarkably easy.
"Yes. Our pretty one — you truly did return to being a man, at least in part. But those tattoos on your arms—"
Alevian paused there and drew a breath. The serpent sigil inked on Yona's left arm was unmistakably Berbaria's mark. With things having progressed this far, even Alevian would need to revise his plans.
The stage where he could simply dispose of her was already far behind them, after all.
"They're why it failed. Without them, the magic was a success. Without question."
"I see."
Yona nodded. Then, at some point, she had picked up the nun's habit Escara had laid out for her, and began to change into it.
"Fine. Then from here on out, we start over. Finding proof that it's possible — that's enough for me. Once I've scrubbed these tattoos off completely, then I—"
Yes. It hadn't been a wasted effort. She now knew it could be done. All that remained was to begin again.
"Next time I get the procedure done, Alevian — you're paying. If you tell me to scrape together another hundred and twenty gold coins..."
Yona shuddered violently at the very thought. A hundred and twenty gold coins — did he think that was a joke? Alec's words from back then suddenly weighed on her, unbearably heavy.
"Of course. Next time it comes from me. No — from Escara. Isn't that right, Escara?"
When Alevian turned, Escara — who had been standing awkwardly behind them — gave a similarly awkward smile and nodded. A hundred and twenty gold coins was hardly a fortune to people like them; it made no difference either way.
"Got it. I'm leaving now."
"Yes, then I'll have the gryphon—"
Yona waved off Alevian as he moved to follow.
"Don't bother. I'll take the stairs. Just point me the way."
"...All right."
Alevian took her hand to guide her. The warmth of it brought Alec to Yona's mind.
What kind of face would he make, seeing me like this?
Would he laugh and say serves you right? Then she'd have to slug him one.
Alec came sprinting up to the reception desk, gasping for air. His face was flushed scarlet from the run, his breathing ragged and heavy — and the moment the receptionist laid eyes on him, she pointed to the staircase behind Yona's right shoulder.
"Your party member is on the thirteenth floor—"
"Thank you!"
The words were barely out of her mouth before Alec was already tearing toward the stairs.
His breath had climbed all the way to his chin; every step sent a sharp ache stabbing up through his chest. But he did not stop. His body demanded rest with every stair he conquered — even a Guard proud of his endurance had limits — but the image of one woman burning in his mind kept demanding that he run.
And he obeyed. Alec hurled himself up the staircase like a madman, leaping two and three steps at a time. He had to climb these stairs — the faster he climbed, the sooner he'd reach her — and that baseless certainty screamed at him that rest was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Fourth floor. Fifth. Sixth.
. . .
Tenth. Eleventh.
Then, at last, a soft, familiar footfall — and Alec's pace began to slow.
That footfall. That stride. That particular rhythm of walking. And that breathing. And finally, drifting down from above—
"...Baldy."
That voice.
Alec lifted his head and looked up.
Yona, wrapped in her black nun's habit. Her white hair a tousled mess, left uncombed. White legs stretching out from the slit of the habit. The brown hunting knife strapped to her thigh. And above all — those golden eyes, wide and round, staring straight at him.
He could see it. He was seeing it. So clearly he could hardly bear it.
In those golden eyes — the moisture pooling at their corners. The moment she saw him, it spilled over in a single line of tears.
And that was all. No more came.
But the despair and sorrow, the defeat and fury that had risen in that gaze — all of it washed over Alec like a wave. He saw himself reflected in her glistening eyes, and watched her expression begin to change.
Despair becoming hope. Sorrow becoming joy. Defeat becoming relief. Rage becoming solace.
Watching his own image grow larger and larger within Yona's eyes—
"Yona!"
Alec wrung the name from the bottom of his lungs.
Strength flooded back into legs that had held nothing left. Stairs he'd sworn he could never climb again were leapt in great bounds. He flung out his arm — and in those golden eyes, so close now, his own face appeared, growing larger and larger.
"Ba— Baldy…"
The word never got to finish.
The instant Alec stretched out his arms, an armful of Yona's warmth fell into them.
What do you think you're doing? Why are you always this clingy when I'm trying to think? — the Yona who used to squabble like that, punching him in the ribs, thump thump — that same Yona, finding that Alec had no intention whatsoever of letting go, finally gave up and wrapped her own arms around his waist in return.
"Thank goodness. Thank goodness… really, really, thank goodness…"
Good? What's good about it? I burned a fortune and failed, that's what— Yona squawked and grumbled on and on. She was clearly furious — but to Alec, it sounded like a bluebird chirping right beside his ear.
It was a voice he'd thought he would never hear again, wasn't it? A warmth he'd thought he could never hold again, wasn't it? A face he'd believed he would never see again?
Just knowing that voice was scolding in his ear made the whole world look impossibly beautiful to Alec. This tower of mages, the explosion — none of it mattered. The tower could have collapsed to its foundations and he wouldn't have cared.
Yona hadn't turned back into a man. She was here, right now, like this. In his arms.
I will never let go of this warmth again, Alec swore.
He would make her feel it so deeply that the thought of becoming a man never even surfaced — would make her understand, a hundred times over, that this was worth more than any return.
Yes, Yona. From now on, I won't remain someone who merely guards your side.
I'll become the one who reaches out his hand to you.
So that you can erase, with your own hands, the thought of ever going back — so that I can become the man who holds the largest place in your heart.
So that the thought of returning never even occurs to you.
Like that.
Because I will make it so.
With Yona held against his chest, Alec vowed, and vowed again.
"Let go of me, you bald idiot!"
"You want me to contact Ceres?"
"Yeah."
The aftermath of the explosion on the thirteenth floor was being sorted out on its own — and since neither Alevian nor Escara was in any position to take responsibility for it personally, it was the tower's administrators who were scrambling. Leaving the cleanup to them, Alevian had brought Yona and Alec back to his own room, where the three of them sat over tea. At Yona's request, his brow creased faintly.
Of all people, why Ceres— But then again, given the woman's Personalized Magic, he could understand exactly why Yona would ask.
"It's because of Purification, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I don't need to explain the details, do I?"
"Hmm…"
Alevian set down his teacup and sank into thought.
He knew Ceres's Personalized Magic was Purification. He couldn't reveal the woman's true identity just yet either — but at the very least, if Yona was to be derailed from Ceres's plans, then Ceres casting Purification on her was a necessity.
So long as it was certain that the transformation magic had failed because of those tattoos, erasing them through Ceres would smooth the path considerably. The real question was whether Ceres would ever part with her Personalized Magic so readily…
"Fine — understood. I'll reach out to her privately. And what will you two do now?"
Alevian stole a glance at Alec, who had been sneaking looks at Yona all this while, utterly incapable of hiding his joy. Alevian understood perfectly well why the man was so delighted — but if he had his way, the sooner Alec gave up on his feelings, the better.
"We're going to see Kayak. Water's too expensive here, and we can't stay long."
Yona had once had more than a hundred gold coins to her name, but after paying the cost of the magic she'd been left flat broke. Which meant that even something as simple as a meal at an inn today would have to be put on Alec's tab.
"Kayak? Kayak… now who was that, again?"
Alevian turned his memory inside out. The name rang a bell, but the face wouldn't come.
"The lizard who came with us from Evian."
"Ah. Now I remember. The lizardman."
Yes — he remembered now. Alevian recalled the lizardman warrior he had watched through his scrying crystal. Since only Yona and Alec had entered the tower, he'd assumed the creature had died somewhere along the way; apparently not.
"He said his home is up that way, along the Cantasia River. We'll stop by there, then head back to Evian."
"I see. I intend to stay here a while longer, so I'm afraid I can't accompany you."
"...Oh, come with— actually, no, that's fine. Don't bother."
Actually, that would suit me just fine— rose to the tip of her tongue, but there was no need to say it out loud.
"When do you leave?"
"We'll get our shopping done tomorrow morning and set out in the afternoon."
It was about time she bought a new bedroll, after all. With this and that to prepare, they'd be lucky to leave by afternoon.
Yona licked her lips and rose from her seat. She had spent a hundred and twenty gold coins and failed — but she'd learned exactly why it had failed, and next time the fee would be waived. Hardly money burned for nothing.
And besides—
"Let's go, Baldy. Feels like we're about to get busy all over again."
"Uh — yeah. Right."
Watching Alec drain his teacup in a gulp and scramble to his feet, Yona felt it — somehow, against her own expectations, a small, very small, but undeniable sense of relief.
Strange, the things a heart can do, she thought.