A Five-Year Leash
The Saintess studied my frozen silence for a while, as if she found it thoroughly entertaining.
"This is a first."
"……A first of what."
"Our clever, sharp-tongued Altiera, unable to find a single word of rebuttal without even a second's hesitation."
The way she said it scraped at something inside me. I felt foul.
I clicked my tongue under my breath and hauled my composure back into place.
"So. What is it you want from me?"
"Oh my. Straight to business already? I was hoping to hear a little more of that adorable sulking."
"You've looked after us with such meticulous care. I find it difficult to believe this is blind charity."
The Saintess smiled, bright and easy. She did not deny it.
Of course. Nothing in this world came free. That woman covered for the others no matter whom they beat or what trouble they caused, put whatever they wanted into their hands, and bent them to her word. Anyone who invested that much effort was bound to want something in return.
She touched her lips to a teacup still breathing steam.
"Become my hands."
"……Your hands?"
"There are so many things in this world I cannot do myself. A little dirty. A little rough."
The scope of that answer was far too wide, and a wide demand usually meant she had a great many things she intended to stuff inside it.
"I would like to know how far you mean to order me."
"Hmm."
She tilted her head as if considering it.
"I will not give you anything insane. Betray the Church. Kill an innocent for no reason at all. Burn an entire village to the ground."
"'For no reason at all.'"
"Altiera hates anything she doesn't find reasonable, doesn't she?"
She laughed as if it were nothing. I was not reassured in the slightest.
"The seven of you have a very special power sleeping inside you."
"What power?"
Without the least hesitation, and yet with exquisite secrecy, her lips shaped the words.
"The power of demons."
I narrowed my eyes.
Before I died, in that pure white space, the Creator had said our sins would be left as they were. That a moment would come when those sins proved useful. Was this what he had meant? If usefulness amounted to this, then that bastard had meant to use us as weapons from the very beginning. Another ground for the appeal, then.
For the Saintess of the holiest Church in the world, the word was worse than shocking. It was seditious. In a world where even contact with a demon got a person branded a heretic and burned at the stake, the Saintess herself was keeping seven orphans who carried demonic power?
"This hardly seems like something one says in the middle of a church. Are you hoping we reach the pyre before the demons do?"
"Of course not."
"And if this story gets out?"
"That must never happen."
"And yet you are telling me."
The Saintess blinked those clear, wide eyes once.
"Is Altiera going to step outside and run her mouth?"
"A hypothetical."
"I see."
She smiled.
"Then you will end up like the child Videllia drowned not long ago."
"……."
A chill slid up the back of my neck.
Videllia. That girl who wagged her tail at a single compliment about her looks had killed someone, and the Saintess had quietly buried it. Before my mind could even sort out that hideous chain of cause and effect, the seven-year-old body recognized the danger first. My fingers tightened on the arm of the chair.
The Saintess was still smiling, benevolent as an angel. Her face said she had no need to spell out what would happen if I ran my mouth. I seriously wondered whether I was sitting across from a mafia boss.
"……I will keep my mouth sewn shut."
"As expected. Altiera is quick on the uptake. How lovely."
"So. What does the actual work consist of?"
"Demons, to start."
She set the teacup down.
"You will be dealing with things ordinary clergy cannot handle. From now on, you will wake the power sleeping inside you and learn how to wield it. When you turn fifteen, you will be commissioned as formal battle nuns."
Battle nuns. The front line of demon hunting. In short, become the hounds who handled the work the Saintess found inconvenient to touch herself.
"After we are commissioned, how long do we grind under you?"
"Hmm."
She rested her chin on her hand.
"Until I no longer need you?"
Light as a joke. I let out a short scoff, laced my fingers on the table, and leaned forward a little.
"I refuse."
"Oh my."
"A labor contract with no end date is no different from a bill of slavery."
I looked her straight in the eye.
"State the term precisely."
A deep interest stirred in the Saintess's eyes. It was not the sort of thing a seven-year-old was supposed to say. She raised a white hand and spread five slender fingers.
"Then."
She thought for a moment, and smiled.
"Exactly five years from the day of your formal commission."
"Five years."
I calculated quickly. Seven years old now. Commission as a battle nun at fifteen. Eight years under the Saintess's protection, food and shelter secured, building the strength to survive this vicious world. Then five years of obligation. Thirteen in all.
Long. But as the price of gaining the power to protect this body for certain, it was not more than I could bear. More than anything, it had an end. That mattered.
"Agreed."
When I nodded, the Saintess blinked as if surprised.
"That is all?"
"No."
"Of course."
I held up one finger.
"When the five years are over, let me go. Truly free."
"Free."
"Yes."
She studied me for a moment.
"You do not simply mean being turned out of the convent, do you?"
"……."
When I did not answer, the corner of her mouth lifted. That expression again.
"If I put you out of the convent this very moment, would you truly be free?"
"I could find a way to live."
"A seven-year-old, alone?"
"……."
"No money. No status. No one to protect you."
She traced the rim of the teacup slowly with one finger.
"The moment you stepped outside, you would have to lean on someone else."
"That is……"
Hard to deny. I still knew little about this world. Throwing me out would not make me a free person. To keep from starving, I would have to put myself under someone. Without status, I would need protection. In the end, the convent walls would simply be replaced by a different master.
The Saintess smiled.
"So I will do it properly."
"Do what?"
"When the five years end."
She raised one finger.
"A status that lets you live in the heart of the Empire."
A second.
"A name the Church cannot summon at will."
A third.
"And enough wealth that you never have to bow your head to anyone over money for the rest of your life."
I said nothing. She smiled with her eyes.
"A noble title should be enough."
"A noble."
"I do not think you would want one with land attached."
"……."
Accurate.
"And an office would be a nuisance, would it not?"
"……It would."
"Then I will look into a name only. An old house whose line has died out should do nicely."
I watched her in silence. It was the same as last time. Before I could even explain what I wanted, that woman shaped it and set it down in front of me.
"I will prepare the fortune as well."
She added it as if it were nothing.
"Enough that Altiera could idle her whole life and never run short."
That was a considerably attractive condition. The heart of the Empire, where the threat of demons and monsters was comparatively thin. With status and money, at least I would not have to live beneath anyone. Once I was out of the Saintess's hands, could I, as I was now, manufacture better terms for living on my own?
Not immediately. Then I would use her. The foothold she was holding out.
"Five years from now."
I said it as if confirming the terms.
"I receive the status and the fortune you named, and I leave your hands completely."
"Yes."
"You can never drag me back by force."
"Yes."
"Wherever I am, whatever I do, you do not interfere."
"That too."
She agreed far too easily. Suspiciously so. But there was nothing more I could extract in this room.
"Then the contract is settled."
The Saintess rose and came to stand before me, holding out a small white hand. I looked down at it.
She probably thought she had done to me what she had done to the other six: dangled a fine carrot and fastened a leash around my neck. I did not care.
Think whatever you like.
Five years. A precise end. In the meantime I would gain the power to survive this world, make use of the Saintess's authority, and at the last take the money and the status as well. After that, it was over.
I took her hand without hesitation.
"I am counting on you, Altiera."
"For five years only."
She laughed softly.
"Already waiting for the day it ends."
"Contracts with a deadline are like that."
She let go. Then, as if it were nothing at all, she spoke.
"Then I had better start preparing."
"Preparing what?"
"You said you would become my hands."
Her eyes traveled over me, slowly, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.
"But Altiera, as you are now, is far too weak."
"I am seven."
"I know."
She smiled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Which is why you must be taught."
"By you, personally?"
"Heavens, no."
Immediate.
"I am a busy person."
"……."
For some reason, that rankled.
She lifted the teacup again.
"Do not worry."
A gentle smile rested at her mouth.
"I know someone very good."
"Someone good."
"Yes."
Wait. For no reason I could name, that felt ominous.
The Saintess smiled, radiant.
"An instructor who will turn all of you into splendid battle nuns."
I looked at that smile, and thought.
……It is the words "someone good" that I trust least of all.