To the Empire (1)
A hollow expanse filled with nothing but pure white—so utterly white that it rendered everything invisible.
At the center of that space floated a woman, wings dangling lazily as she drifted in midair.
The beautiful golden-haired goddess peered with half-lidded, drowsy eyes at the countless screens suspended in the void.
Click. Click.
She flicked her fingers idly, as if handling some tedious clerical chore, glancing from one screen to the next—until
Ding!
A bright chime rang out, and one among the many screens flared with golden light.
The goddess, who had been nodding off, jolted awake, rubbed her eyes, and leaned in for a closer look.
The screen showed a lakeside bathed in moonlight.
A beastkin sat quietly offering her ears to a boy's touch, her prim face hiding the invisible tail that wagged furiously behind her.
At the sight of that peculiar scene, the goddess broke into a wide smile and clapped her hands.
"Ah, he finally found the first bond!"
Her voice carried the pure relief of someone who had at last cleared a long-overdue assignment.
But the joy lasted only a moment. As she gazed down at the boy on the screen—Ian—her lips soon pushed out in a pout.
"Still… it took way too long. A full twelve years by human reckoning. Even if he has to find them one by one, that's way too leisurely~."
She spun a lazy circle in the air, grumbling all the while.
"Ah~!"
Then, as if a brilliant idea had just struck her, she clapped lightly once more.
Clap!
With that crisp sound, dazzling stardust burst like fireworks and filled the endless void of nothingness.
The glittering golden powder poured down like a waterfall toward Ian on the screen.
"No choice, then! I'll widen the range a little."
A sunny smile bloomed on the goddess's lips.
"So that even if you don't go looking yourself, the others will notice you from wherever they are and come find you on their own."
She gently stroked the screen now thoroughly steeped in stardust and murmured softly,
"That way… that place, too, can become peaceful all the sooner."
"Nngh…."
For some reason I couldn't open my eyes properly that morning.
I was sure I had gone to bed early and fallen asleep as usual.
Yet a heavy fatigue clung to me as if someone had shone a flashlight straight into my face while I slept.
The last time I'd felt anything like this was in my past life, in the military, when some weirdo woke me for night watch by blasting a flashlight into my eyes….
In the end I shuffled out into the courtyard later than usual, rolling my stiff neck this way and that, when
"What? Are you sick, Ian oppa?"
Lucy popped up from somewhere, staring up at my face with both hands planted on her hips.
"Huh? No. I'm fine. Just a restless night, I guess."
"See! I told you not to sneak around at night! Did you go for another walk by the lake by yourself? Last time you brought back a pitch-black dog—what did you do this time!"
"I told you I didn't."
Lucy pouted and whined in her usual way.
Had the eerie atmosphere I'd sensed by the well yesterday really been nothing more than a mistake after all?
I must have been short on sleep and imagined the whole thing.
Still… had I ever brought home a black dog?
Ah. She must mean the Border Collie.
While the two of us bickered like monkeys grooming each other, Vermina approached across the courtyard.
She called us to the center of the yard as if conducting roll call.
"Well done."
Of course, there was no grand induction ceremony for orphans being conscripted into the army.
We simply stood there in the dust-blown courtyard and that was all.
Even so, Vermina—immaculately dressed in her uniform—wore an expression of absolute seriousness.
"There are no other successful candidates besides the two of you."
As she spoke, her gaze lingered for a long time on the crumpled lump of scrap metal Lucy had submitted the day before.
…It can only be opened with the strength of an Apprentice Knight or higher, or with mana output of at least a 2nd Circle Mage. How in the world did that child open it?
Beats me. I'm pretty curious myself.
Unfortunately Lucy's inner thoughts didn't reach me, so I had no way of knowing either.
And the person in question showed no particular change.
Then again, with an item like that, it was only natural that no one else had managed to open it.
After a brief glance at Lucy, Vermina continued.
"Tomorrow morning we depart for Kronen, capital of the Stark Empire."
"The capital is quite a distance. We will take a carriage from the lower village, pass through Rox Fief, and then follow the central highway—."
Unfamiliar place names spilled one after another from her lips.
In short, by her account it would be a fairly long journey of a full fifteen days by carriage.
"The military will provide basic board and lodging, but if you have any personal necessities, pack them all by the end of today."
There wasn't really anything to pack.
The orphanage never gave us pocket money, and the only things we could take were the few sets of clothes on our backs.
After laying out the entire lengthy itinerary, Vermina added one last remark as if it had just occurred to her.
"Ah, the Mother Superior wishes to see you both before we leave. Once you've finished packing, report to her office."
The Mother Superior's room lay at the very end of the monastery corridor.
A dim chamber that barely admitted sunlight, situated far from the buildings where the children usually stayed.
Even though I had lived at the orphanage for quite some time, today was the first time I had ever stepped inside.
The interior looked exactly as one might picture a devout nun's cell: a simple wooden bed, stacks of documents piled high on a battered desk, and a single faded cross.
The air carried the mingled scent of old paper and aged wood that might drift through an ancient chapel.
"You've come."
The moment we entered, the Mother Superior glanced outside, shut the window, and thoroughly locked the door as well.
Then she took a small silver bell from a drawer and gave it a light shake.
Ting.
At the clear chime, Lucy flinched beside me.
I had no way of sensing it myself, but judging by the Mother Superior's suspicious preparations, it was probably a magic tool that prevented sound from leaking out—something like a Soundproofing Bell.
Only after completing every precaution did she carefully open her mouth.
"Ian, and Lucy."
She looked from one of us to the other and let out a deep sigh.
"My heart is heavy knowing you must leave this place. The outside world is far colder and harsher than the monastery…."
She fussed over our worn collars for a while, offering the usual warm fretting: never skip a meal no matter what you eat, never endure an injury without seeking treatment.
After gazing at us with lingering affection for a long time, her expression slowly grew solemn.
"The Imperial Army… is a far more terrible and wicked place than either of you can imagine."
Combined with everything I had overheard from Vermina's thoughts, this had to be at least the fifth such warning.
So far the only face of the Imperial Army I had actually seen was Vermina's….
Just how ruthless an organization must it be for everyone to speak of it with such dread?
"They treat powerless children without family or connections as little more than expendable tools. There are endless dark rumors that they throw them as bait onto the front lines swarming with magical beasts, or use them as subjects for horrific black-magic experiments."
The Mother Superior's voice trembled slightly.
After pouring out her worries for some time, she carefully drew something from her robes and set it on the desk.
Two small cloth pouches embroidered with clumsy, uneven stitches.
"May we open them?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
Inside each pouch lay a single gleaming silver coin.
The moment I saw those coins, Vermina's thoughts from a few days earlier in the dining hall suddenly returned to me.
She had pressed a few silver coins into the Mother Superior's hand, asking her in secret to improve the children's meals.
Apparently not every last one of those coins had been turned into potatoes.
"When you reach the capital, Kronen, do not enter the barracks. Find a coachman and ask him to take you to Ashen Fief in the west."
Lucy's startled eyes darted between the Mother Superior and me.
"You have not yet been formally entered on the military rolls, so even if you disappear they will not pursue you with full force. Use this money to escape by any means necessary."
Escape, she said.
"Ashen Fief?"
"Yes. Once you arrive in Ashen Fief, seek out a man named Wolf who runs a smithy in the back alleys."
The Mother Superior indicated the cloth pouches in our hands with a glance.
"Show him these pouches… and he will help you at least once."
"Mother Superior…."
While Lucy clung to her with tears in her eyes, I bowed my head and slipped the pouch into my clothes.
"Understood. Thank you, Mother Superior."
In all the time I had known her, the Mother Superior was not someone who spoke nonsense.
Whether I would actually run away as she advised remained to be seen, but there was no reason to refuse free money.
And a short while later,
when we came face-to-face with the carriage that would carry us, the Mother Superior's words began to hit home.
The carriage waiting for us after we followed a soldier down into the village looked rather impressive, to be sure.
A sleek, glossy black horse and what appeared to be the finest plush leather seats.
By the standards of this era it was practically a moving suite.
Except that one belonged to our officer, Vermina.
"Come on, stop dawdling and get inside already!"
The soldier's curt finger pointed to a wooden wagon covered by a rough canvas tarp.
At a glance it looked more suited for cargo than passengers—a proper freight wagon.
Behind the driver's seat, sacks of provisions and bales of hay rolled about in the corners; there was not so much as a single seat to sit on.
The only fittings were crude iron bars meant to keep the load from tumbling out.
"…It's a cargo bed."
Lucy's voice was thick with disbelief.
"Yeah, looks like it."
I glanced at the hay scattered across the wagon floor and gave a light shrug.
"Still, hay's softer than bare boards. Let's get on."