Spring's Awakening and a Letter from the Academy
As the story was being rewritten, the once-chilling winds began to carry a trace of warmth. The snow that had piled up throughout the winter gradually started to melt, and the spirit—who had been moping around the room ever since the first snowfall—suddenly regained her old vigor as if nothing had happened. She began trailing after Lene and me with boundless energy.
With the weather announcing that winter's end wasn't far off, the day Arlan would leave home for the academy drew closer with every passing sunrise. He might be able to visit during the academy's vacation, but the travel time and hassle made it inefficient. It would probably be several years before we saw his face again, so we spent the remaining time with him as much as possible without becoming a nuisance.
"Your uncle lives near the academy, so if you run into any trouble or difficulties, go ask him for help."
"Yes, Mother. I will."
"And remember, you can't hold your liquor, so try to avoid drinking. Got it?"
"Ahaha... Yes."
The days passed in the blink of an eye without any particular incidents, and soon it was time for Arlan to leave the estate for the academy. Our whole family checked meticulously to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then gathered to see him off in his smartly dressed outfit. Arlan hid his churning emotions behind a thin smile as he received Mother's worried advice, Father's encouragement, and greetings from Aran and us sisters. He climbed into the waiting carriage and left the estate behind.
Only after the carriage carrying Arlan passed through the estate gates did Mother finally let her held-back tears fall. As Father comforted her, I wondered if Lene might be the same and turned to look—only to narrow my eyes at the sight of her already whispering with the spirit about what they should play today.
"Hmm, today with big brother... Oh, right. He's not here anymore."
"The way you say that makes it sound like... Never mind."
It wasn't as if she was completely unaffected. For several days after Arlan left, Lene would look for him and then droop in disappointment. When we asked Aran for help, he quietly adjusted his pace to match ours without a word.
After Arlan's departure, daily life felt a little duller than before. But thanks to the spirit regaining her energy on the day the welcome spring rain began to fall, we quickly forgot about it.
Then, around the time Lene and I turned six, a letter written by Arlan after entering the academy arrived.
I'm doing well at the academy. I got into a few fights with some arrogant nobles who were throwing their weight around just because of their status—even though we're all just students here—and taught them a lesson. I'm also staying far away from alcohol, just as Mother advised.
Please don't worry. Everything's fine.
"Heh heh, the boy's already causing trouble."
"Goodness... Blood really can't be hidden, can it?"
The letter told us he was getting along without any major worries, so our family let out sighs of relief as if on cue.
"By the way, Mother, what did you mean by 'blood can't be hidden'?"
When the lingering mood from the letter had faded a bit, I asked about the intriguing comment. Mother turned to look at Father. After watching him clear his throat awkwardly, she chuckled and told us that Father had done something similar during his own academy days.
"What? Father did?"
The story didn't match Father's usual image at all—the gentle man who seemed so far removed from any kind of fighting. When both Aran and I reacted with wide-eyed surprise, Mother told us how, back when Father attended the academy, he had thoroughly humbled the central nobles who looked down on those who had pioneered the western wastelands and risen to nobility.
He hadn't beaten them black and blue like Arlan, but he had crushed them with overwhelming margins in the very fields they prided themselves on. As we listened with our mouths hanging open in awe, Father simply said it was no big deal.
His modest reaction made us giggle, and we pestered Mother to tell us more about her academy days. The stories eventually led to how the two of them had met, fallen in love, and gotten married. When it reached the part about the proposal that night, I had to cut in.
"You really don't have to tell us about that night..."
In the end, the only one getting more and more excited was Mother. I barely managed to escape by using the excuse of inviting Aran for a walk in the garden.
"Sigh, I never imagined I'd be hearing my parents' love story at this age..."
Aran, who had practically fled into the garden, agreed that he felt the same. I laughed and told him he was still at the perfect age to hear such things.
The three of us—no, four if you counted the spirit clinging to me—strolled leisurely through the garden. At one point Aran tilted his head and stroked his chin as if he'd noticed something strange.
"What's wrong? Do you see something, Brother?"
Lene, sensing something fun in his odd reaction, asked with a hint of eager expectation in her voice.
He gave a small snort of laughter at Lene's sparkling eyes, then stretched out the hand that had been stroking his chin and pointed toward the garden, which was bursting with the vitality of spring.
"Doesn't it seem even more lively than last year?"
At Aran's words, I had a pretty good idea what he meant and glanced sideways. The spirit made no attempt to hide her pride, puffing out her chest as if to say this was clearly her handiwork.
Keeping my face carefully neutral, I told him it was probably because so much snow had fallen over winter. Now that it was melting in the spring and soaking the ground, everything just looked more alive. He thought for a moment, then nodded.
I was letting out a sigh of relief, thinking we'd safely gotten past it, when I suddenly felt a hand on my head. Before I could even wonder what was happening, he had completely ruined my neatly combed and arranged hair. I shrieked.
"What do you think you're doing!"
When Lene let out a sharp yelp—her hair now just as messy—Aran burst into laughter, teased us, and dashed ahead.
"Haha! You shouldn't let your guard down—Whoa!"
We sisters reflexively started to chase him, but then saw Aran trip over something in the grass and go tumbling. We turned narrowed eyes on the spirit. She proudly claimed responsibility, looking even more pleased with herself than before. We high-fived her tiny hand, then ran over to the groaning Aran and kicked him with all our strength.
"Ow! Wait! That was my shin—you got me right in the shin!"
"That's right. I was aiming exactly there!"
"I'm still your brother! That's too much!"
"If you mess up our hair like that, you deserve it even if you're our brother!"
Aside from the solid hit to the shin, there weren't any real blows, but Aran played along with exaggerated gestures and dramatic screams. He kept entertaining us until we were completely worn out.
There were other moments too—like when we disturbed a bee buzzing around the fully bloomed flowers and Aran had to scoop us up under his arms and run for it—but those were fun in their own way, and we shrieked with laughter.
A few days later, in response to Father's letter saying he wanted to discuss magic lamps, the kind-faced count who had hosted the party last autumn visited the estate.
Thanks to having to dress up properly from early morning, it had been a bit of work, but we greeted him with perfect politeness and without showing any sign of tiredness. The count complimented Father, saying the young ladies were truly lovely.
Father smiled at the pleasant words. As we walked along in the comfortable atmosphere, the count's eyes suddenly widened at the sight of the estate garden visible through the window.
"The garden is truly magnificent."
Father waved off the count's admiration for the beautifully maintained garden—thanks to the hard work of the servants—saying it was excessive praise. Compared to the garden during the party, it still fell quite short.
The count replied that was all in the past now. From this year on, for some reason it had become strangely difficult to manage, and everyone was struggling with it.
Don't tell me...
At those words, something clicked. When I turned my head, the spirit raised her little hand and pointed straight at herself.
It hadn't been intentional, but I still felt a bit uncomfortable about causing trouble. Still, I convinced myself it was all just a series of coincidences.
After all, it wasn't as if we'd done anything on purpose, and the whole thing had only happened because she had followed us here. Thinking that way helped me let it go, but I still felt I shouldn't just ignore it. After the count finished speaking with Father and was about to leave, I gave him a polite farewell that carried my apology.
"Thank you for coming such a long way."
"Not at all, Marquis."
"We truly appreciate your hospitality."
After that, whether because the discussion with the count had gone well or not, the magic lamp technician who visited the estate spoke with Father and then replaced the magic lamps throughout the mansion.
Everyone was amazed by the light that brightly illuminated even the darkest nights, but having grown quite used to such sights in my previous life, it didn't make much of an impression on me.
"Ugh... It's good that our income is increasing, but it's not so pleasant when the workload increases along with it."
Afterward, the technicians headed to the cities in our territory and replaced the magic lamps there. People's active hours grew longer, and the territory's income rose meaningfully. However, minor accidents and troubles increased at a similar rate, giving Father and the others quite a headache.
Not wanting to burden Father any further, we were careful not to cause any accidents or mischief. We spent the warm spring playing with the spirit.
Then, on a day when the colorful spring flowers had fallen and even the stubborn ones that remained were brought down by the rain, we watched the scene from inside with the spirit. We smiled brightly, thinking that it was finally summer and we would be able to meet Undine again.