The Golden Hourglass
No, that's just the kind of person he was.
Victor gazed at his friend with those deep-set eyes.
In this life, he sincerely hoped Lucas could indulge in the travels he loved so much—to the farthest corners of the world.
To that end, he planned to send Lucas abroad before conscription orders could reach him.
"What's the farthest country you've always wanted to see?"
"Uh... well, I haven't been to Aylarcha yet. It's awfully remote, being an island and all."
Aylarcha—an island the size of a continent. There was no civilization there.
The swift-footed Inggris had led a fleet to invade and planted their king's flag, sparking divided opinions across the international community.
"Then I'd appreciate it if you went there. Say, for about four years."
"What? That long?"
"You don't have to stay only in Aylarcha. But from what I've heard, it's incredibly vast. On the surface, we need a local agent to study the natives' way of life and assess what the Inggris are up to."
The words flowed smoothly; he'd prepared them in advance.
Besides, Victor had always been adept at deception.
"They say there are creatures unique to Aylarcha. Odd-looking ones. Isn't that right up your alley?"
"Well... yeah, it is. If it's necessary, I suppose I should go."
Four years was quite a stretch, especially for a voyage that took three months by sea.
Coming out of nowhere like this, it was only natural he'd be taken aback.
"The Inggris are getting ambitious."
Victor watched Lucas murmur as if convincing himself, then gently lifted the corner of his mouth.
"It'd be a great help if you left right after the wedding."
"Aigoo. If you're putting it like that, it must really be needed. Fine, fine. I'll go."
In the end, Lucas gave up resisting.
It wasn't as if he was being sent to the Orient or anything.
Besides, the allure of exploring an unknown land—with Bayern backing, no less—was honestly tempting.
"But you'll have to provide generous funding."
"Of course."
This settled it.
Even if war broke out again, Lucas wouldn't die twice.
How could he be conscripted if he wasn't even in the country?
Victor was satisfied.
He had no intention of dying young this time either, so he could watch his friend grow old.
The rest of the group should arrive at Bayern soon, too.
It was a strange feeling—bittersweet, yet somehow joyful.
And right then.
A short gasp escaped Ibel's lips, though she hadn't yet fallen asleep.
"!"
They said extreme shock could leave a person speechless.
Ibel froze mid-brush of her hair, overwhelmed by the scene unfolding before her eyes.
It was a massive hourglass encircled by a golden ring.
A dazzling powder filled it, like stars ground to dust—each grain embossed with intricate numbers.
Unreadable letters were engraved along the upper and lower frames, shimmering so ethereally it was hard even to reach out.
What is this? Out of nowhere.
Her mouth went dry. Ibel swallowed, staring at the hourglass with trembling eyes.
How long had they faced off like that?
As if it could wait no longer, the hourglass inched toward her slyly.
Bobbing as if begging to be petted—or perhaps pleading to be noticed—Ibel's mind filled with a giant question mark.
It was clearly inanimate, yet it moved with intent... and that attitude, like it craved affection, was bizarre.
But the strangest thing was her own reaction.
Why do I want to pet it so badly?
What emanated from the hourglass was an emotion akin to longing.
Welcoming, joyful at reunion. Please, recognize me.
Overwhelmed by the warm, desperate feeling, Ibel finally extended her hand and caressed the frame.
"Ah."
It was warm.
Like reclaiming a cherished memento lost long ago.
An indescribable flutter brushed her heart, and then the hourglass dissolved into sparkling dust, seeping slowly into her—as if worried she'd be startled.
"Regression... and the hourglass?"
She patted herself down, but felt no real change.
Tilting her head, she lifted her collar to check her chest.
It seems connected, for sure.
Why had it appeared so suddenly?
And perfectly timed with Lucas's visit to the estate...?
"Hourglass."
She called once, but it didn't reappear.
It had clearly been absorbed into her.
"Clock...? Not that."
She tried names for it in various languages, but it stayed hidden.
As she racked her brain waiting for Victor, Ibel flopped onto the bed and replayed the scene.
There were unreadable letters.
What could they mean?
What in the world...
But perhaps the talk dragged on too long; Victor never came, and morning arrived.
It was a hectic day of full-scale wedding preparations.
"Careful there!"
"This fabric's too heavy—help!"
At dawn, loads of cloth and ribbons arrived for decorating the venue.
Ibel sampled dishes for the guests one by one, selected cake flavors.
After a frenzied morning and a smoked salmon sandwich for lunch, it was time for Damian.
Then a quick check on Anselm, and just as she thought she might catch a breath—
Victor approached and called her.
"Ibel. Dominik, Florian, and Giev have arrived."
"Ah."
The final members of the Twelve. Among them, the seven she'd felt especially close to.
Commander Victor Bayern.
Colonel Konrad von Eberstein.
Captain Lucas Steiner.
Heinrich.
Dominik.
Florian.
Giev...
People she could call friends.
And now they were here.
Without knowing why.
"Shall we have tea time? They're all looking anxious, not knowing why they've been summoned. I'd appreciate if you'd join us."
"I'll do that, Victor."
Of course.
Eberstein and Lucas had known Victor for years. Heinrich, even if not, was high-ranking enough to be acquainted.
But Dominik, Florian, Giev.
These three were forcibly conscripted—low nobility or commoners.
They'd come at the duke's call, but worry was natural.
Perfect. That hourglass from last night might appear again.
Harboring faint hope, Ibel headed to the drawing room with Victor.
As they walked the corridor, they exchanged quiet words.
About Lucas's gunshot wound and the hourglass.
Spouting off about an hourglass to just anyone would get her labeled insane, but Victor was different.
He'd experienced the same miracle.
"The scar from that emergency surgery I did? On Lucas?"
"Yes."
"But no memory of it... How intriguing."
What were the rules, exactly?
Ibel didn't voice it, but she feared one thing.
What if she regressed again from this life?
Things were stable, happy now... Losing it might be unbearable.
Regression wouldn't trigger only for unhappy lives, just because it was convenient.
"If my death is what sends me back..."
After a pause, she whispered.
"Victor. What if I die in this life..."
Her words trailed off, and Victor quietly finished for her.
"Let's figure it out together."
He'd tied off the unfinished sentence, as if afraid speaking it might make it real.
Ibel looked up into his blue eyes.
Curiously, the anxiety squeezing her chest eased a little.
The reason? Probably because she wasn't alone.
Sunlight poured through the windows.
Their shadows stretched long across the floor.
Side by side.
Not overlapping, but facing the same direction.
Gazing at them, Ibel suddenly thought:
If time rewound once more, she hoped it would be with him.
Selfish, perhaps—but then, she could endure anything.