The Brand (5)
Late afternoon.
The Tower Master hummed a little tune as she examined the child. Rebecca did not care for it one bit. An inscrutable, fox-like woman whose true intentions were impossible to fathom — and that vacant grin she wore in front of a patient in distress, what in the world was that supposed to be?
"Heeey, Sir Knight? Would you mind backing up juuust a little?"
"I'm sorry, Tower Master. But the child is anxious."
"If you keeep this up, you're going to interfere with the examination."
"I will remain at a distance that does not interfere."
The look on the Tower Master's face seemed to say, What kind of bitch is this supposed to be?
But Rebecca had not the slightest intention of yielding.
As if I could ever trust these black-hearted mage bastards.
She drew herself into an even more rigidly upright position of attention and stood guard at the girl's side. The only person in this world who could command her was one: Her Majesty Empress Aria.
"Eeeh~? Don't knights these days have any respect for their superiors?"
"My 'sword' moves solely according to the will of Her Majesty Empress Aria."
A provocation, slipped in sideways: I am a knight. Therefore you, a mage, are not my superior, and I have even less reason to take your orders. This time she had well and truly gotten under the woman's skin. The smile vanished from the Tower Master's face without a trace. A few seconds of silence — and then their gazes collided head-on in the empty air between them.
"Haha. Perhaps it would be best to continue the examination first?"
"Hmm...♪ I suppose we'll have to, won't we~?"
Only after the Chancellor's mediation did the Tower Master turn her head toward the girl.
"Umm, patient~?"
"……."
No answer came. What came instead were fluttering, paper-thin eyelids and the first signs of hyperventilation. Frightened, perhaps, by the ugly atmosphere of a moment ago, the child was trembling like an aspen, her eyes darting around the room without rest.
"Pa.tient~?"
"Y-yes—! Great Mage!"
The words burst out almost like a scream.
Seris's hand, reaching to take the girl's pulse, stopped dead.
...'Great Mage'?
A manner of speech that seemed designed to leap out like an almost unconditional reflex. They had said she'd been abused for a long, long time, hadn't they. More than that — this reaction. She was afraid of the very existence of mages? Why? Was the Magic Tower involved in this child's abuse as well? Set that aside for later. A feeling like this would only get worse the longer the silence stretched.
"Oh my~♪ 'Great,' she says~ I'm quite beside myself at such a cute person's praise~♪ Now, would you give me your hand?"
She made a show of being overly flustered, hoping to put the child at ease. But the girl before her was already one step from full panic. A maddening tremor traveled up through the small wrist Seris had taken lightly in her fingers.
...Wait. What is this?
Magic circles, packed dense upon the white of the wrist. They followed the line of the arm and vanished beneath the sleeve, continuing onto the skin hidden underneath. To see them more clearly, Seris rolled up the sleeve of the child's nightclothes.
"—!"
Her narrowed eyes flew wide with horror.
No. These were no ordinary magic circles.
Spirai Raden
Karpos Lepanisis
Cuera Tis Diaphora
Traces of curses that had been erased and carved in again dozens of times. Cold sweat ran down her back. Every last one of them was a curse of dizzying power. With these three alone, this child's existence was, to black mages, a small temple — a sanctuary.
What... what in the world is this...?
Alarm bells screamed through her mind.
A catastrophe the empire had never imagined had come upon them.
The traces of black magic they said had been found in Tenrin? This was not even in the same conversation as that child's play. What lay before her eyes was ancient black magic of genuine Apocalypse class.
The shock was so vast that her mind swam.
This was bad.
How far did these curses run?
How many more kinds were inscribed upon her?
No — before any of that... how was this child even alive?
"Well then, Tower Master. How is the child's condition?"
"……."
Rebecca's question did not reach her ears.
Suspicion and confusion crashed over her like a storm.
"I say, Miss Seris?"
Don't tell me — a real demon? Yes. That would make it possible to survive curses this powerful. But are you going to call this child a demon on that reason alone? Don't you think the evidence is far too thin? And besides — a demon who inscribes curses upon its own true body? Do you honestly think that makes sense? There isn't a shred of a reason it would, and you've never even heard of such an anomaly.
"Hhk?! Ghk—! Ghhk—?!"
"Miss!"
So what of it? Snap out of it, Seris. You read that letter the Chancellor sent you. Decay Mana and the summoning of evil spirits. That is unmistakably a demon's power. Don't forget. Letting your guard down is fatal. Demons are skilled at deception. How many comrades lost their lives falling for cheap tricks? Who's to say this isn't an act as well? Whatever the case, this child's existence is extremely danger—
"Miss Seris! Stop this at once!"
The Chancellor's urgent cry snapped her back to herself.
"Hhk, hhk...! I-I'm sorry! I did wrong!"
Ah.
"S-spare me. Spare me. Please...! Hhk, hnnh, hhk, hnnh—!"
For an instant, without meaning to, she had loosed mana thick with killing intent at the child. She gathered the mana back in haste, but spilled water could not be put back in the cup.
"G-Great Mage...! Please, hhhk, have mercy...! Great Mage, I don't want to hurt. Hnnh, Great Mage, Great Mage, Great Mage, Great Mage, Great Mage—!"
Panic. White as a sheet, the child looked up at her and wrung her clasped hands, begging. The same mutter, over and over, like a sick parrot. And from those dead eyes, tears poured and poured.
...She isn't a demon.
Demons cannot shed tears. Structurally, they possess no tear ducts. That did not mean she had ruled out illusion magic. But when she felt not the slightest flow of mana from the child, even that possibility vanished clean away. Only then did she understand. How stupidly she had been digging her own grave, all this time, all by herself. How cruelly she had suspected her.
"What in the world do you think you're doing, Tower Master!"
"...I'm sorry."
"Damn it!"
A voice raw with fury.
The knight scooped the terrified girl into her arms in a rush.
"It's alright. It's alright. It's nothing."
"Hnnh, hhhk— G-Great, hnnh, hnnh."
"There, there. You're not scared. I'm here."
It seemed a situation like this had happened more than a few times already. The hands that soothed her were, by now, quite practiced.
"Breathe in, and out. Slowly. That's it. You're doing well."
Before long, the trembling subsided enough to see. Thank goodness she was here.
"...I have something to tell you. It's important for the child as well—"
"Leave this room at once."
The order of expulsion cut her off as clean as a blade. A piercing chill radiated from the eyes that glared at her.
"I received a command from Her Majesty Aria to protect this child."
The hand that was not holding the girl moved to the scabbard at her hip.
A vivid blue aura rippled into being.
Ah. This was a lost cause.
At least for today, it was impossible.
"So do not come here again. I will not say it twice."
"……."
Regret came flooding in too late. Her chest throbbed with guilt.
"I'll come back once the child has calmed down."
Forgiveness. Can I even ask for it?
Midnight.
The Imperial Knights. The training grounds, where a blizzard tore through the air.
Five hundred fully armed senior knights had been summoned in emergency.
"Knights, hear me!"
Rebecca's voice crashed down like thunder. And as if in answer — crash — the sound of armor snapping into formation.
"I, Rebecca Atraingel, petition you in order to fulfill Her Majesty the Empress's command!"
An imperial order. And a request for cooperation from the Imperial Guard knight carrying it out. The instant those words fell, like a revelation, Sonia — who had been standing ready below the platform — raised a red banner high. The standard of the Knight King, Astaria Edelgard, snapping in the snow-wind. For the knights of the empire, no other will could exist beneath that most exalted emblem.
"My sword and my heart stand beside Her Majesty the Empress!"
Five hundred voices answered as one, like a roll of thunder.
Until the next imperial command, mage access to Iscaron's Yard shall be thoroughly restricted. Knights, hold your tongues — and from this moment, remember that every mage who would set foot across this threshold is an enemy of Her Majesty the Empress.
Iscaron's Yard. The name given to the Imperial Knights' domain within the palace.
"Stand united! And answer the Oath!"
"My sword and my heart stand beside Her Majesty the Empress!"
Once more, a fierce roar filled the training grounds. The reason might well have invited questions — and yet not a single soul harbored any doubt. If that is Her Majesty's will, then it is my will as well. To be a knight who had sworn loyalty to Empress Aria's Eirene Oath — the vow that had ended the empire's long dark age and opened a true era of peace — meant precisely that. And Rebecca Atraingel was, in name and in fact, Vice Knight Commander of the Imperial Knights. In other words, the one who, after Knight Commander Duncan, was most deeply devoted to the Oath. They had no reason not to follow her.
"……."
But before long, Rebecca would come to understand.
That this, too, had been a mistake she should never have made.