The Girl the World Loves

The two siblings, beloved by the world, faced each other awkwardly. Then, uncharacteristically, Rudmila cautiously lifted her head. On the neat dining table covered with fine linen, plates were set out. A teacup was gently placed atop one with a soft clink. At the sound, Monte flinched, making the atmosphere even more funeral-like. The siblings exchanged desperate glares, as if cursing each other silently.

"......"

After a long silence, the head of the Cardia family, Yurshil Cardia, finally spoke. Her voice was dignified, brimming with charisma—and laced with a hint of dread.

"I thought I hadn't deprived you of anything in life."

She took a refined sip of her tea, then glared at her two children. They flinched. Just a single glance had frozen these two, who ranked second only to the emperor in the Empire. Narrowing her eyes, Yurshil asked about the story she'd just heard from Monte and Rudmila. About Riru. About the adoption.

"You needed a sibling, did you? Saying things like that?"

Adoption. Of all things—a girl, a little girl? What nonsense, Yurshil muttered inwardly. The already tense atmosphere froze over once more. With those words, she pointed toward Riru, who was soundly asleep in the garden. She'd been peeking through the window earlier but had gone back to nap. Kids would be kids. From this distance, Riru looked no bigger than Yurshil's knuckle, sleeping peacefully with soft breaths.

Rubbing her forehead, Yurshil asked, "Where on earth did you pick up this child?"

Seeing his chance to explain, Monte jumped in quickly. Shooting to his feet, he launched into his defense.

"First off, Mother, I know you're shocked—"

"Sit."

"Y-Yes...! Ahem, well, that kid isn't someone I or Rudmila brought home."

Grinning like some voice-phishing scammer, Monte deflated and sat back down at her curt command. As he finished, Yurshil nodded, lifting her teacup again for another elegant sip, as if urging him to continue. Monte recounted everything to his mother without omission. How Riru had been abandoned by the Collodic family. How Speredo had found her. How cute and lovable Riru was, her appetite, her squishiness. And... her terrifying, monstrous talent.

Monte especially hammered home Riru's tragic past, veins bulging in his neck as he ranted.

"Her whole body was covered in burns! At that age?!"

"I saw them too," Rudmila added quietly.

Ignoring the unhelpful backup, Monte pressed on to Yurshil. About the little genius who smiled brightly here but harbored vengeance against Collodic. He wove in his own opinions.

Yurshil, savoring her tea in silence, opened her eyes. Monte shut his mouth, ready to hang on her every word. But Yurshil hesitated, words ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the tip of her tongue. She'd meant to say no to the adoption outright—something tugged at her heart, though.

She glanced at Riru in the garden, now buried under a swarm of butterflies mid-nap. Why are there so many butterflies clinging and fluttering all over her? Watching Riru a moment longer, Yurshil thought: What a small, cute child. She'd make such a lovely granddaughter. If only Rudmila were half that size, how adorable she'd be. Having always dreamed of a cute daughter, Yurshil already felt fondness for Riru. And factors to nurture that fondness emerged.

If even Monte speaks of her like that... She recalled her son's personality—he never praised anyone, even in death. Proud, aloof, the epitome of arrogance. If he said so, the talent must be real.

That tiny child—a great mage who could make history? From Monte's description alone, she evoked images of mythic archmages from founding legends. Yurshil didn't buy it easily. And rightly so. She was in the Empire's top 1%—no, top 0.001% among them. A being who outshone countless others. They called her a monster. Naturally. Even she thought no one should ever match her talent again. She had it, so she lived greatly. Her becoming family head as a woman wasn't mere luck—it was overwhelming talent that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crushed all other heirs.

"You say that cute little one overflows with talent?"

Monte nodded vigorously. Rudmila hadn't yet—only Monte had seen Riru's true power. Rudmila had simply fallen for the girl's noble heart, believing Monte's hype enough to think her an amazing mage.

Argh, our Riru's a human weapon. No, not some ugly term... damn, can't find the right words! So Monte's frustration boiled over alone.

Yurshil looked out the window. Her eyes widened at the even denser crowd around Riru.

...Cats too?

Cats, butterflies, sparrows—all swarming, sleeping near Riru. The elegant, mystical sight piqued her curiosity. Cats licked her cheeks. Butterflies perched on her hair and fingertips, avoiding eyes and nose. Birds nested on her belly, heads bobbing. It was a dreamlike scene. Like a girl beloved by the whole world. A fairy-tale girl unfolding in reality, complicating Yurshil's mind.

...Loved by the world.

Yurshil closed her eyes briefly, recalling her father—memory faded, but his voice crystal clear. Strict with her, yet kind, sparing no advice. Utterly coincidental, she thought. A girl fated to die in the snowfields. That girl, by sheer chance—pure coincidence—crossed paths with her. The Empire's highest meeting the lowest? An improbably grave coincidence.

"Too many coincidences to overlook."

Pausing her thoughts, she decided to heed her father's long-ago advice. Rising with her imposing frame, she set down her teacup. The siblings shot up after her. Nose itching oddly, she chuckled softly and headed to the garden. To see if this child, loved by nature, was truly loved by the world.

The Empire's greatest explorer, the doctor who'd saved countless lives—chewing on his words stirred her to probe this child further.

"Let's see."

Curiosity and faint excitement carried Yurshil into the garden. Adoption still felt off. If this Riru didn't measure up, she'd cast her out—no mercy. One step forward.

"Hm...?"

A butterfly alighted on her hand. One that never would have, normally.

* * *

I woke quietly from sleep. My nose itched; sitting up, I saw why.

"You guys again!"

I swatted my hand. Lately, napping in the garden meant animals swarming me.

"Shoo."

Shaking wildly, sparrows tumbled off. One fat, plump one wheezed in front of me, so I scooped it up. It didn't resist—just stared, then closed its eyes.

"Such a shameless chubby bird."

I gazed at the sparrow dozing on my hand. Its belly poked out; I poked it with a fingertip and looked up. The clear, gentle afternoon sun greeted me. But three shadows loomed side by side before me. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I peered ahead.

"Chubby bird, huh? Cute way to put it?"

My eyes locked with Yurshil's amused expression. Instinctively, I squeezed the sparrow harder.

Squish.

Its belly squished out beside my fingers.

What? How long have they been watching? They didn't look like voyeurs. Sensing something off, I eyed them warily. Monte looked anxious, fidgety. Rudmila, proud somehow. And the enigmatic Yurshil—staring at me with an oddly inscrutable gaze.

What's with her suddenly?

I met her eyes. My red reflected in hers, tinting them subtly. She spoke after a pause.

"Little one, I heard about you. Abandoned by Collodic, right?"

I froze. Hearing Collodic made me shrink.

"Hm... I see."

Yurshil knelt to my level, shadow falling over me. Her tone was kind yet firm.

"I heard you dream of revenge, too."

Ah, that story. I turned serious. Cardia's head, and revenge—no joking matter.

"Yes. I want that family destroyed."

Suppressing rage, I said it. Yurshil tilted her head, a twisted smile forming.

"How much?"

"...A lot."

I stood silently before her. She just smiled down, saying nothing. Then:

"I can help you. If you want, I could reduce Collodic to ashes right now."

My eyes widened. Monte and Rudmila flinched. As they opened mouths, Yurshil silenced them with a hand.

In the hush, she continued: "I like valuable people. I'm greedier than anyone."

Her cheek twitched. Lying? Observing her, sudden pressure choked me. Massive aura poured from her.

"You learned magic, right? Little one, release your mana at full power. Now."

She spread her arms, expectant. Nearby cats and sparrows bared teeth at her.

"My... mana?"

"Yes, your mana. Show your talent. This is your one and only chance—the sole shot to back yourself with Cardia."

Her pressure mounted. Expectation in her eyes swelled.

Mana? Here? I could. If I did, hateful Collodic would crumble. Revenge on those who broke me!

Collodic... who poured boiling water on me, tried gouging my eyes.

Vast mana writhed in me. Rage-born wave surged to burst free.

Shaaa!

Chirp, tweet. Cats licked my calves frantically. Sparrows clung to my shoulders, kicking futilely. Refusing to leave. As if they loved me.

Love. Yes, love.

Revenge on the family that never loved me...

Recalling my goal—vengeance on Collodic—I drew power. Rudmila gaped. Monte edged back. But the woman before me stood firm, arms crossed.

She offered the chance. Show power now, and revenge—mine, and for all the dead children!

...Me.

...Me.

I began to see them. Children gathering hands around me. With each clasp, my mana amplified. As if supporting whatever I did.

But I looked at Yurshil ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cardia. She watched me, hair swaying, noble poise intact. Then down at my feet.

Mrrrow... Chirp, chirp.

Show magic, gain her as backing. But I withdrew my mana.

Whoosh...

Tension eased; peace returned to the afternoon.

In that instant, Yurshil's lips curved warmly. She knelt fully on one knee, eyes gentle.

"Why'd you stop?"

Her question held layers. Showing mana could've gained so much. Why stop?

My answer:

"'Cause these dummies won't run."

Cats rubbing against me, sparrows, a crow who-knew-when. Caw, caw. Butterflies swarming my head. Mana would've killed them all. Foolish as they were, their deaths... What separated me from Collodic?

I never wanted them dead anyway.

"...Sorry, but I don't want to kill them. If this was my last chance... oh well."

I bowed my head. Regrettable, but Collodic revenge would be solo. With a wry smile, I set the sparrow down.

Cardia's head watched long, then:

"Pfft."

Laughter burst.

"Hahaha!"

She kept laughing, awkwardly long. "It exists... it really... really exists." Tears streamed—not from sadness, but pure relief.

* * *

Yurshil witnessed her father's words made flesh. Understood. A foolish adult's rash test, yet the girl proved it—better than imagined.

What is it?

Strange. She shouldn't feel this. ...Adoption, was it? Why were adoption papers on her mind?