A Question for the Professor
Where are we going, anyway?
Innocent hurried after Bayul as he strode down the corridor. A little girl in a blue dress, standing out sharply against the sea of identical uniforms—though to anyone but Bayul, she was invisible.
"We're going to see a professor."
A professor? What's that?
"The man we saw in the lecture hall earlier. I thought he was sitting there quietly attending class, but apparently not?"
He was just resting. He was tired.
"So spirits get tired too. Are you very tired?"
On the surface, nothing about her had changed. Her twin-tailed hair swayed with every step, still as pretty and adorable as ever, and the fluttering blue dress only made her look more lively and cute.
I haven't slept in days.
"You haven't slept?"
That was news to Bayul.
"Why not?"
Because I'm too happy.
"Happy? About what?"
Because I have a name now! Innocent. I love my name so, so much!
Bayul gave her an incredulous look, and she darted over to plant herself in his path.
What do you mean, 'just that'? I'm the only spirit with a name!
Come to think of it, she'd said something similar before—that having a name was a first for her.
"By the way, where are the other spirits? Are there many of them?"
I bump into some now and then when I'm out and about, but not that many.
"Out and about?"
Yeah. I saw the most of them when you passed out.
The temple, he realized. Though Bayul had no memory of it, he'd been told that signs of all four great elements had appeared that day.
Would he ever get to meet them too? Quinn had said it was impossible, but Bayul couldn't help hoping.
Fire, wind, earth.
What would they look like? What personalities and powers would they have? Ever since meeting Innocent, his curiosity had only grown.
His fear of spirits was gone now. Meeting Innocent had convinced him of one thing:
The spirits were entirely on his side. She teased and pranked him at every turn, laughed, sulked, and threw the occasional tantrum—but her attention was always, always fixed on Bayul.
She knew, uncannily, what he wanted and what bothered him—this, despite having no idea where or how she herself had been born, or even how old she was.
She didn't even know what the Spirit Realm was. Apparently she'd only just learned that she was something called a spirit.
The only thing Innocent remembered was Bayul. She couldn't recall everything perfectly, but she said that from her very first moment of memory, she had been at his side—and that revelation genuinely stunned him.
She'd been hovering around all along; he simply hadn't been able to see her. And after he collapsed, she said she'd kept her distance because she thought he didn't want her around.
The reason Bayul could still meet Innocent even while carrying divine power was, as Quinn suspected, the Mark of the Oath. The amplified energy of water had grown strong enough for him to see her with his own eyes—a kind of awakening, in effect.
At that thought, Bayul felt a fresh wave of gratitude. He'd come to the Academy, met Quinn, and through him learned about spirits—and realized he wasn't a sickly invalid after all. An astonishing transformation, all in the span of a single week.
What else might the remaining four years bring? For the first time in his life, Bayul began to look forward to what lay ahead.
By the way, where's Quinn?
"Quinn? Why do you ask?"
Because I haven't seen him since breakfast.
"Ah, that's because we're in different classes. You'll see him when second period starts."
What about Ingrid?
"Hmm, Ingrid... I'd have to ask Aidan about that one."
Tsk. Playing with Ingrid is the fun part.
"If you stay quiet while I talk with the professor, I'll make sure you get to see Ingrid too."
Really?
"Yes, and you'll behave, won't you?"
If Innocent started chattering or flitting back and forth during what was supposed to be a serious conversation, focusing would be impossible. He'd already been caught daydreaming in class; he couldn't afford another mistake.
Okay! I'll wait right here like a good girl. Deal?
She nodded so earnestly that she looked every inch the adorable little lady. Bayul glanced around to make sure no one was near, then gently patted her head.
Hee hee.
Clearly pleased by the touch, Innocent beamed and fluttered up into the air.
When Bayul arrived at Professor Rothius's office, nerves strung tight, the professor wasn't alone. Judging by the yellow emblem, the other student seemed to be a fellow first-year, but he was remarkably tall. Broad, squared shoulders and a lean, powerful frame marked him unmistakably as a Knight Department student.
Logan.
Whenever Bayul saw a tall swordsman from the Knight Department, Logan came to mind unbidden. When would he get to see him again? The thought of the missing friend weighed on Bayul's heart once more today.
"Right on time."
A cigarette clamped between his lips, Professor Rothius waved him closer.
"This is Elaine. First-year, Theology Department. You know Bayul, of course? Say your hellos."
Theology?
So Bayul's guess about the Knight Department had been wrong. Not all of them, admittedly, but students who majored in theology usually went on to become priests or holy knights. If Elaine wasn't Knight Department, then surely—Bayul would have bet on it—he was on the holy knight track.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Yes, hello."
Bayul returned the other's courteous bow with a bow of his own. Whether from a recently broken voice or simply his natural tone, Elaine's voice was slightly rough and deep.
"Hey, hey! What are you two, thirty-something uncles? Fellow freshmen saying 'the pleasure is mine'? It's awkward just watching you, you two!"
When it came to awkwardness, though, Bayul had the edge. For a classmate, Elaine carried himself with a remarkably mature air—a weighty, solid presence. Was that the gravity unique to those who served a god? Bayul could only wonder.
"Well then, Professor, I'll take my leave."
"Running off already? Fine, fine. Thanks for letting me know. See you in class tomorrow."
After a light bow, Elaine departed. As Bayul stared blankly after his retreating figure, the professor's cheerful voice reached him.
"Bayul, I have good news. Priest Wagner has made a full recovery as of this morning."
"...Priest Wagner?"
"The one who treated you. Didn't you know?"
"Things were so chaotic then... But what was ailing him?"
The news came entirely out of the blue. Bayul had heard that the priest lost consciousness partway through his treatment, but he'd assumed he woke up soon after—just as Bayul himself had.
"It seems he overexerted himself while treating you. Divine power recovers far more slowly than a mage's or knight's mana, you see. It's a common occurrence right after an exhausting healing session."
Bayul had received divine healings so often since childhood that he was sick to death of them, but never once had a priest fallen ill or collapsed in the process. Not until now.
The repulsion against divine power.
Quinn had explained that this happened because the Mark of the Oath had swollen the water energy within him. Divine power was an absolute force that only a select few of pure faith could wield—and the power of the spirits was strong enough to overcome it head-on. It was astonishing, all over again.
"How are you doing?"
"...Pardon?"
"Your body. Any unusual symptoms since then?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm sorry for worrying you."
"I'd heard about your constitution, so I knew about it in general terms, but I'll admit I didn't realize it was serious enough for you to collapse like that, so suddenly. I'll be more careful from now on—and you, Bayul, make sure to stop by the temple regularly for checkups. Don't forget."
Everything had been because of the spirits, so the divine healings were no longer necessary. But if he abruptly stopped after fainting like that, people would find it strange. Word would reach his father, too.
"Understood."
Bayul agreed for the moment. He could simply taper the visits down gradually and naturally.
"That Elaine you just met will be handling communications between the temple and you. He's not much of a talker, but he's a reliable one—get along well with him and it'll do you good."
"...Was there nothing else?"
"Anything else? Like what?"
"About Priest Wagner... regarding me..."
"Ah, I heard he asked about your condition the moment he woke. Worried about his patient before himself, while he was still spent—remarkable, isn't it?"
"Is that... all?"
The priest had clearly witnessed that strange sight that day. If so, surely there should have been some reaction—yet not a single word of it.
Did he really say nothing at all? Why?
"If you want to thank him, paying him a visit after classes wouldn't be a bad idea."
"...Yes."
"For the record, I contacted Duke Randert separately. He's said to be all right now, but it seemed something he ought to know."
Bayul had expected as much. Professor or no, his father would have learned of that day's events through some channel regardless. The only difference was when, and from whom.
He'd wanted the first news his father heard to be something worth rejoicing over.
Would he worry?
A bitter taste spread through Bayul's mouth.
"What are you brooding over now?"
"...Pardon?"
"It's written all over your face. Some trouble on your mind?"
Professor Rothius asked with surprising earnestness. His hair was still a crow's nest, his chin scruffy with patchy stubble, a cigarette butt dangling from his lips—but his eyes burned with startling intensity.
Bayul swallowed hard and answered.
"No, nothing like that."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"All right. We'll leave it at that for now. The important thing is that my office is always open. You know what I mean?"
"...Thank you."
"Shall we head out, then?"
Just then, the bell rang for the end of class. Tucking an even thicker book under his arm than during first period, Professor Rothius set off, with a gloomy-faced Bayul trailing behind him.
Bayul!
Innocent came racing over the instant the door opened—then pulled up short at the sight of him.
What's wrong? Did something happen?
No. It's nothing.
Bayul shook his head with a faint smile.
Hmm, that's a no. Your heart's gotten heavy. Was it because of this man?
Arms crossed, Innocent glowered up at Professor Rothius. The way she narrowed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks was properly feisty—but the cuteness outweighed it by far, and Bayul found himself smiling before he knew it.
"Why are you laughing?"
Professor Rothius, walking ahead, turned back with the look of a man who found Bayul's behavior utterly bizarre.
"Did you see something amusing?"
"Ah, that's..."
As the flustered Bayul hesitated, the professor's gaze grew suspicious by the second. The atmosphere made it clear he wouldn't escape without saying something.
Tch. Can't a person even laugh in peace? Bayul, want me to yell at him for you?
What? No!
Don't! Absolutely not!
Bayul, who had been groping for an excuse, snapped wide awake. For one instant, the memory of her unleashing a water drenching flashed through his mind.
And not on just anyone—on a professor. In a corridor, no less! That, above all, he had to prevent.
"P-Professor!"
Bayul stepped briskly in front of Rothius.
"Do you happen to know anything about spirits?"