Unspeakable Circumstances
They had reached their destination in a single bound thanks to Ophelia's ability, but the journey back to Hugo's mansion still demanded a certain amount of primitive travel. Simply having Seira — a teleporter — in hand did not mean they could leap straight to Rihnn whenever they pleased.
Inside the rattling carriage, Seira passed the time by giving Shiron a magic lecture.
"Teleportation is by no means an all-purpose spell."
"Yeah. I know."
"Oh? So you also know that you have to know the exact coordinates of where you are standing and the exact coordinates of where you're trying to go?"
"No. That part I didn't know."
"What… how boring."
And just like that, Seira's lecture fizzled out midway.
Unlike Seira, who was passionately expounding on magic, Shiron seemed thoroughly uninterested; he refused to give her his full attention. He simply watched the scenery roll by as they made their way toward a place where teleportation would be possible.
What a strange kid.
Seira pouted, somehow feeling put out.
Shiron's attitude right now was… the kind of polite half-listening that kept a conversation from dying without ever truly engaging.
No matter how well-bred a noble brat might be, people were people — they were supposed to harbor at least some curiosity about the unknown. All the more so when the subject was something like teleportation, a magic that completely disregarded the laws of the world.
And it isn't just his attitude that's strange.
Chin propped in her hand, Seira stared hard at Shiron.
The information he knows is full of holes. Superficial, like something he just overheard somewhere.
Seira ran back through every conversation she'd had with him. Not out of suspicion, though. Future Sight was a power even Seira — who had lived for centuries — had never heard of.
It was only natural that someone with a scholar's streak like hers would be curious.
"Something just occurred to me. Mind if I ask you a question?"
"No. Don't."
"…You said you have Future Sight. So how far can you see?"
"I told you not to."
Shiron fixed Seira with a stare loaded with irritation.
From Dawn Castle in the Macal Mountains all the way to Elmo Gorge, Seira's mouth had barely stopped moving. Shiron knew he needed to get closer to her, so he had answered her questions — if only halfheartedly — but talking about Future Sight was another matter entirely. He had no desire to tip his hand.
"Why does a little kid like you have so many secrets? Can't you just tell me?"
But Seira was not the type to shrink back just because some child glared at her. She crossed her arms with the air of someone nursing a grudge, which had the effect of pushing her chest together into a rather provocative display.
"I even swore a mana oath, you know. You can't even handle mana, so you can't make one. Doesn't that seem unfair to you? Hm? Come on, just spill it clean. My lips are sealed."
"Yeah. Absolutely not."
Shiron started to curl one corner of his mouth into a smirk… and stopped. A complicated disappointment filled his chest instead.
This woman is nothing like the game. Does she have any idea how old she is?
They said you never really knew someone until you met them in person, didn't they? The Seira he had dealt with these past few days had been shocking in more ways than one.
The transcendent air she had carried in the game was nowhere to be found. For someone who had easily lived five hundred years, the word that suited her better than Lucia was brat.
At least Lucia pretends to act like an adult. How do you live past five hundred and still act like a child?
"Hah."
"What? Why the sigh?"
"This much I can tell you. Because the you I'm looking at right now is nothing like what I imagined."
"What's wrong with how I look?"
Seira crossed and uncrossed her legs as she spoke.
"Be honest — aren't I pretty?"
"…What?"
What is she even talking about all of a sudden? Shiron's expression went blank for a second. Watching the usually unflappable boy actually flustered, a faint curve touched Seira's lips.
"Let me guess why you sighed."
"…"
"Compared to whatever version of me showed up in your prophecy, the real thing is so much prettier that it took your breath away. That's definitely it."
"What kind of garbage are you spouting all of a sudden."
"Don't pretend it isn't true."
Seira shrugged and winked one eye shut.
"You snuck a look at my chest earlier. Did you think I wouldn't notice? You dirty little brat. You're blushing — so I was right."
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
Shiron buried his face in both hands. Not to hide a blush, though — a faint wave of dizziness had hit him, and he was just dry-washing his face.
His face was not hot in the slightest.
"Young Master. We have arrived."
It was then, while that idiotic conversation was still dragging on, that Yuma spoke up from the coachman's seat.
Elmo Gorge.
A place that still held an unexplored ether mine.
Seira climbed down from the carriage before Shiron even had the chance.
"As expected of Yuma. Dropped us exactly where I wanted. Truly, that meticulous nature of yours never fades, no matter how many ye—"
"You."
Yuma's lovely brow furrowed as she cut Seira off mid-sentence.
"Do not act familiar with me."
Yuma brushed past Seira and walked to Shiron's side. She straightened his slightly mussed clothes as she continued.
"I have heard that you repeatedly tried — and failed — to cast mind-control magic on the Young Master. I still do not trust you. If it were not for him, you would already be dead."
"Yuma. I'm fine."
"Young Master. I am deeply uneasy. Why take a woman like that as a companion? Her magical skill may slightly surpass mine in certain areas, yes — but her character is unrefined and her attire is vulgar beyond measure."
Yuma snapped her head around and glared at Seira. The force in that gaze alone looked cold enough to freeze a person solid.
"Her sense of morality is strange as well. Volunteering to become a slave and taking pleasure in waiting on powerless humans… that is simply… perverse, is it not?"
"Th-that's not—!"
"What part of it is not?"
Having finished straightening Shiron's clothes, Yuma rose to her full height. Standing roughly a finger-joint taller than Seira, her eyes sharpened to a blade's edge.
"Just now… you poured crude remarks at the still-young Young Master about him looking at your chest and being dirty, did you not? Even the most frivolous child among Dawn Castle's guardians holds her tongue before him out of basic reverence."
"…"
"If you are a lady at all — if you are not a harlot — then mind your speech. Can someone who stands at a hero's side not manage even that much?"
Under the torrent of Yuma's scolding, Seira clamped her mouth shut, unable to mount a proper defense.
There was nothing wrong with what Yuma had said. Looking back on it now, Seira may well have let the reins slip a little.
But she had never indulged in her little games out of malice.
Become a slave. Serve a master. And when crisis struck that master, reveal her true identity and extend a helping hand.
She had cast mind-control magic, yes — but only once, at the auction house, and in the end everyone had wept tears of gratitude toward her.
The buyer was glad to have their crisis resolved. Seira was glad to be praised. Everyone walked away happy.
Nobody loses, so isn't it a good thing in the end?
But she couldn't quite bring herself to say that out loud. Playing the powerless slave only worked because people so readily forgot. Now, though, this boy named Shiron remembered every last one of her habits.
"Kid. Stand over here."
Having no desire to become a punchline over it, Seira quietly began preparing the teleport.
Shiron turned and looked at Yuma.
Seira's teleportation could only bring one companion, so Encia had already gone on ahead to the mansion. It was time to part with Yuma.
"Yuma. Thank you."
"Not at all. It is only what I ought to do."
The cold expression from moments before vanished without a trace as Yuma offered Shiron a warm smile.
Seira couldn't bring herself to insert herself into their farewell.
Not because Yuma's dual nature had stunned her — but because she had never, in her entire life, seen that look on Yuma's face.
Where did all the venom go? She's playing full-on mother hen.
"Take a deep breath. It'll make you a little queasy."
A hand trembling with surging mana settled on Shiron's shoulder.
They arrived in a corner of the mansion.
Shiron stepped forward on slightly unsteady legs and braced a hand against the wall. The dizziness kept him from fully controlling his body, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself upright.
Returning to the mansion did not mean the work was done.
Wiping cold sweat from his brow, Shiron looked at Seira.
"Alright. Do what I told you yesterday."
"…Fine."
Seira activated Polymorph and shifted into Elysee's form.
"And lift the mind control you put on Siriel."
"…I told you I only cast it that one time."
Steadying his breathing, Shiron walked on at a measured pace.
"Is there anyone strong in this mansion?"
"…There is."
Seira focused her senses as she answered. The presence at the heart of the estate was every bit as formidable as Yuma's.
"Perfect."
Shiron turned his steps not toward the annex but toward the main building. He needed to see Hugo, catch up on everything left unsaid, and explain what came next.
"Isn't this an awful lot of trouble, though? Do we really have to go this far?"
"You wouldn't understand, but I owe my uncle a great deal. He's as good as a father to me for taking me in. How could I do something so ungrateful?"
"…If you say so."
Arriving before Hugo's study, Shiron drew a steadying breath and knocked.
"—Enter."
Permission came from beyond the door in a heavy voice.
"It has been some time, Uncle."
Shiron bowed deeply in greeting.
"What business brings you this time?"
Perhaps because Shiron had vanished from the mansion without a word, there was a distinctly frosty edge to Hugo's tone.
"I intend to leave the estate for a while."
"Is this about the bill?"
"The bill?"
"Yes. My, you spent quite a sum."
Hugo held out a sheet of paper. An ordinary card statement. It wasn't important right now, so Shiron quietly tucked it into his coat. The debt had no fixed due date anyway, and he had no intention of settling it immediately.
More to the point—
"Please don't concern yourself. I can repay all of it on my own."
Shiron spoke with confidence. Then Seira, who had been standing behind him, stepped forward. Hugo — who had never once let his guard down around the girl who had worn Elysee's face this whole time — darkened as he looked at her.
"And who are you?"
"I am Seira Romere. Seeker of All Magic, and the greatest mage—"
Smack!
A sharp sting bloomed across her backside, and Seira whipped around.
"Wh-what was that for?! Why did you hit me?!"
"Who do you think you are, talking so casually? Use honorifics."
"I-I'm over six hundred years old! Why would I use honorifics with a human hundreds of years younger than—"
Smack!
"Don't talk back. I'm using honorifics — why aren't you?"
"…"
Hugo watched their exchange with a thoroughly awkward expression. Judging by the way they spoke to each other, their relationship was anything but ordinary. He had been bracing himself to scold his nephew at Eldrina's request, but with things taking this turn, all that preparation had gone to waste.
"Uncle."
"…Yes."
"At any rate, I plan to leave the estate for a few years. I'll be back by my coming-of-age ceremony, so please don't worry too much. And… um…"
As if choosing his words carefully, Shiron toyed with his lower lip.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"
He had meant to bring up Hugo's death — but it seemed he still needed a little more time to prepare himself.