The Succession Ceremony
It was dawn.
The sun had yet to rise, and the sky was still dim and pale. Not a cloud broke the expanse, so the stars stood out clear and sharp. It looked as though the weather would hold again today.
Shiron separated the cord from his necklace. He had been using the thing as a makeshift inventory for some time; it looked like nothing more than a plain bead, free of any ornament. It was no ordinary bead, however—it was a holy relic. The piece was so worthless he could not even remember its name, but he had not forgotten that it possessed a use beyond simple storage.
In Reincarnation Sword God, holy relics could be employed according to their unique effects—or they could be applied to a player’s character to bestow those effects. This particular relic served as inventory space; dismantle it and use it for enhancement, and one could reasonably expect an increase in inventory slots.
Dismantle and enhance. I’ve already separated it, so the real question is what comes next…
Shiron stared at the grimy jewel and let out a sigh. Dismantling was simple enough—just pry free the core gem that formed the heart of the relic. The trouble was the enhancement that followed; he felt no certainty there. Still, it was something to be grateful for that he was not completely without a guess. For now, he decided to trust his instincts.
…This isn’t going to come back and bite me later, is it?
Encia’s lemonade, you drank. Ophelia’s bracelet, you tore for accuracy. There was only one conclusion that followed from those precedents.
After gazing at the jewel for a long while, Shiron seemed to make up his mind. He closed his eyes and slipped the gem into his mouth.
…Gulp.
He took a mouthful of water, rolled the jewel around on his tongue a few times, and swallowed.
“Urgh.”
He had half-expected it to lodge in his throat and kill him, but the fear proved unfounded.
Even for a character drowning in death flags, dying like that would be going a bit far.
Shiron gave a dry little snort of laughter and prepared to leave.
The three children who were to undergo the Succession Ceremony rose of their own accord, without anyone waking them, and made their way to the castle gate.
“Let’s do our best together, Shiron oppa!”
“…….”
Siriel, dressed in light training clothes, approached Shiron with her hands clasped behind her back and offered the greeting. She had been so absorbed in conversation with Lucia the day before that she had barely spoken a word to him, and the omission still rankled. Truth be told, her male cousin two years her senior was a little hard to approach. The sight of Shiron chewing his meat with a silent scowl had looked, somehow, thoroughly furious.
Today, though, the venom seemed to have drained out of him a little.
“Yeah. You do your best too.”
Oppa, huh. Never heard that one in my life.
Shiron regarded Siriel’s bright greeting with mild discomfort before answering. He had not expected her to come up and speak first.
What could have happened over ten years to turn a kid this sunny into Shiron’s mortal enemy?
He found himself wondering whether Siriel had always been such a cheerful child to begin with. The Siriel of the killer whale had been a solitary island of a person—someone who never left anyone an opening. Even when he had played as Lucia, raising her affection had been a genuine ordeal.
“Shiron. Are you sick? You look pale.”
Lucia, who had been standing beside Siriel, stepped closer. The ponytail she had gathered her hair into suited her well. At her question, Siriel also peered at Shiron’s face. Cold sweat beaded on his ashen skin.
“……Shouldn’t we tell the adults?”
“Don’t say anything so awful. I’m just nervous. More importantly, let’s get to the main gate.”
Shiron brushed aside their concern and took the lead. Today was the Succession Ceremony—a critical turning point. He walked on, forcing down the bile that kept rising in his throat.
Perhaps because it was the day of the ceremony, the path from the mansion interior all the way to the main gate was deserted. Before long they reached the gate. Yuma and several maids stood waiting to guide the children.
“You have all arrived without exception.”
Yuma, dressed in a black gown, looked somehow unfamiliar. She did not wear her usual gentle smile, which made her seem even more impassive and still.
“Before the rite begins, I have one announcement.”
Yuma, overseer of the Succession Ceremony and One-horned Castle Keeper, looked down at the children as she spoke.
“Weapons, ornaments, and any other items imbued with magic may not be worn. If you are carrying any such thing, surrender it to us.”
She looked particularly at Shiron as she said it. The necklace that had hung around his neck these past few days was nowhere to be seen. Shiron let her gaze slide past him and merely shrugged.
Lucia and Shiron produced nothing. Siriel held out the blue ribbon that had been tying her hair.
“Here.”
The blindfolded maid beside Yuma accepted the ribbon with care. She examined it for a moment, then spoke to Yuma.
“Confirmed.”
“Very well. We will move.”
At Yuma’s glance, the maids posted at the castle gate heaved the doors open.
Krrrrrng.
A thin crust of frost that had formed overnight along the seams showered to the ground. The gates swung fully wide. Yuma led the way, and the children followed.
The Lake of Beginning, where the Succession Ceremony was held, lay beyond the western ridge of Dawn Castle.
“This place…”
When they reached the lake, Lucia’s eyes went wide with surprise. The lake nestled among the mountains had not changed with the years, and it stirred faded memories to life.
This is where I first met Yura.
Lucia stood still and gazed at the water. The sweep of the surrounding peaks was exactly as she remembered.
I never imagined the Succession Ceremony would be held here of all places.
She clenched her teeth. Was it because she was a child again? She had become so sentimental lately, she mocked herself. Everything had begun here. Lucia looked toward the distant shore. The vague recollections grew steadily clearer.
Sniffle.
Far off, a child crouched by the water’s edge, throwing stones—young Kyle. And then Yura, approaching with a smile and holding out a sword, rising like a heat haze…
“This is—”
Someone’s interruption scattered the vision at once.
“This is the place where the founder of the Prien line, Lady Kyle, received the Holy Sword from the messenger of God.”
“Wow!”
Siriel’s eyes shone; she was clearly delighted to stand in a place from the old stories.
“May I ask a question?”
Lucia raised a clenched fist.
“……By ‘messenger of God,’ do you mean an angel?”
“Yes. That is correct. Founder Kyle received a ‘revelation’ here. That lineage has been passed down through successive generations of the Prien family. That is why the Succession Ceremony has been held at this place for the past five hundred years.”
“……I see.”
“Then I shall explain the ceremony.”
Yuma turned to face the children.
“The criteria for success are simple. From this moment, each of you will, in turn, cross that lake.”
She turned and pointed to the frozen expanse. Morning sunlight caught the ice crystals and filled the view with glitter; beyond the far shore, a gathering of people could be made out. The weather was so fine that even at that distance their forms were clear. Hugo, Yohan, and Berta stood slightly apart, especially conspicuous. The figures lined up beside them were the maids who never appeared in the mansion—every one of them an observer of the ceremony.
At that moment Siriel thrust a hand high.
“I have a question.”
“Speak.”
“Is simply crossing all there is to it?”
Yuma nodded.
“That is correct. Thick ice covers the entire lake, yet mysteriously, only those who possess the proper qualities can cross it.”
“What happens to those who fail to cross?”
“They are stripped of the right to challenge the position of family head. But do not worry. Even if the ice breaks and you sink beneath the surface, nothing of great consequence will occur.”
Yuma looked at Shiron as she spoke. Shiron shook his head at her.
“We can simply use magic to pull you ashore. Now then, we must decide the order.”
“May I go first?”
Lucia stepped forward as she spoke, then glanced back at Shiron behind her.
“You go first.”
“……Thanks.”
With Shiron’s concession, Lucia drew a single deep breath. Yuma stepped aside to clear her path. Without hesitation Lucia walked to the sandy shore and set her foot upon the ice of the lake. She put her full weight on it and advanced at a steady pace.
……Is this really all there is?
It was… far too easy. When she reached the midpoint of the lake, Lucia bent one knee and rapped the ice with her knuckles.
Thud—thud—
She struck it with inner force, then drew out Aura from her fingertips and scored the surface. The ice was so thick that not a drop of water seeped through.
What the hell is this… It was never like this in the old days.
The lake of her memory shared only the same shape; everything else was utterly different. Five hundred years ago the villages near the lake had broken the ice and fished for a living. On the way here, however, she had found no trace of human habitation.
Lucia brushed off her hands, rose, and finished crossing the lake. Upon reaching the far shore she was welcomed by Hugo and the maids.
“You’ve got some nerve. Stopping halfway across to knock on the ice, of all things.”
Hugo clapped Lucia’s shoulder with a satisfied smile.
“It was nothing, really.”
Lucia pressed both hands to her cheeks. To be praised for simply crossing a lake… Being treated like a child was embarrassing.
Siriel’s next, then.
Lucia turned and looked back the way she had come. Far off, Siriel could be seen picking her way carefully across.
A short while later, Siriel finished the crossing and collapsed onto the shore the moment she set foot on solid ground.
“Aaaah, I was so nervous I thought I was going to die.”
“Well done, Siriel. Then the only one left is Shiron.”
“……Shiron.”
“He’s looked unwell since this morning.”
Siriel brushed the sand from her trousers and stood beside Lucia. The three of them watched Shiron, who still waited on the far side.
Shiron walked.
And then—
A spray of water erupted, and Shiron vanished.