The Violet Girl (1)
A cutting chill hung in the air between them, dripping like frost. Julbert sat with his legs crossed, lifting his teacup with an easy look on his face, while Yulia glared at him as if she meant to freeze him where he sat.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're going on about, and the morning's barely started."
"Why did you approve the training hall for Greig?"
"What are you talking about? The school buildings are open for weekend hire, and Greig put in a request, so I accepted it. That's all."
"This should have gone through a meeting. Yesterday afternoon I clearly submitted it as an agenda item—"
Julbert let out a thin sigh and cut her off.
"Even the president said he couldn't see why it needed a meeting, and he approved it. Facility use is under our charge, in the end. Student Welfare."
"So the student council ends up looking as though it sanctioned a duel between students?"
"And what, we should send them outside to fight? What would you rather—have them brawl in Dusk Block?"
"Then what are the admission tickets for?"
"Well. A good thing is a good thing, isn't it?"
At that, Yulia's brow drew tight, as if she truly could not understand him, and she spoke as though she were about to shout.
"It's a vulgar thing to do, that's what. The student council taking money on top of permitting a duel?"
"Vulgar? We aren't using what we collect to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outer walls of the student hall. The plan is to give it back to the students—snacks, book purchases, that sort of thing."
"A fine pretext you have."
"Pretext? It actually helps the students. And this isn't my opinion. It's the opinion of the student council president, Prince Randolph. Care to look over the minutes?"
He leaned on the word prince.
James, who had been standing behind him, held the documents out to Yulia. She did not so much as glance at them.
"You were very busy yesterday, weren't you? Busy enough, in the middle of all that, to have a private word with His Highness."
"A private word? If I go to him officially and we talk, is that a secret meeting? And have you forgotten who Blow Deblique is?"
"I know perfectly well."
"You know perfectly well, and this is still your reaction? A little disappointing."
"What does that have to do with this?"
As if her answer did not please him, Julbert shook his head.
"No. It has everything to do with it. Things have come to this precisely because the man involved is Blow Deblique, the Scoundrel of Blanya."
"What are you—"
"If it were Rebecca Settelund, the one you're so fond of, dueling Greig, do you think the school would be in an uproar like this?"
"That's..."
"Or suppose you and I were the ones dueling? The point is, no one would even believe it."
"..."
"Which is why that fool never should have gone around stirring up the school the way he did. Reputation makes the situation, doesn't it?"
"Which is exactly why the student council should have stopped it, and seen that it was resolved some other way."
Yulia was all but pleading with him, but Julbert did not budge.
"Isn't the incident already too big for that? Right now the whole student body is simply waiting for Sunday. And did Blow say he wouldn't duel? Thinking of that temper, I'd say he accepted. Am I wrong?"
"I am speaking about our student council's stance."
"Fine. Then let's speak in terms of our stance. If we try to stop him, do you really think a man like Greig will sit quietly? Speaking as an officer of the student council, I consider trouble outside the school the worst outcome there is."
"You do work so hard to dress it up."
"Not dressing it up. A rational judgment, we ought to call it."
Yulia's lips moved for a moment. Then she leaned sharply toward him.
"Now what is that supposed to mean?"
"It all moved along so neatly for you. Greig sends the challenge, and the very next day—as if you'd been waiting—Redfrin's article is scattered everywhere, and then you even rent him the hall."
"Greig's got a better head for the situation than I expected."
"Hiding the sky with the palm of your hand. Do you think anything is true so long as you say it?"
"Hahaha! My apologies. I suffer from an affliction—I can't hold in my laughter when I hear something absurd."
"What do you even get out of doing this? Hervena? A few paltry votes?"
"I want only the happiness and enjoyment of the students of our Caypol Municipal Magic School. As head of the Student Welfare Department."
As if she would hear no more of it, Yulia turned her back and started for the door.
"Putting out a correction today?"
"Mind your own business."
"It's school business. How am I supposed to mind my own? Then again, there probably isn't anything to correct."
The door shut with a bang.
Julbert shrugged, lifted his teacup, and spoke.
"The tea's gone cold."
"Shall I have them brew another?"
"No. Bland has a flavor of its own, in its bland way."
On her way to morning class, Hervena had grown sensitive to the air around her—the way people dropped their voices into whispers every time they looked at her.
The rumor going around was that her own future would be decided by the outcome of Blow's duel. And it was not only rumor. Between yesterday and today, more than a few had come and asked her outright.
"Hervena, is this duel really being fought with you as the stake?"
"...No."
"Oh, really? I only asked, just in case."
"I don't know."
"But hey—there is a duel, right?"
"I said I don't know."
When she answered with her temper showing, they laughed awkwardly and found somewhere else to be.
The whole string of it sickened her. But she had a belief to hold to: that her master, the man he had become, would never do something like fight a duel.
She calmed herself with that, and when she stepped into the lecture room, everyone inside fell silent and watched her out of the corners of their eyes. She shot them a glare, and only then took her assigned seat. Skadi, who had been lying face-down on the desk, lifted her head in greeting.
"You're here?"
"Yeah."
"You look like you're in a bad mood."
"Would you be happy? They're chewing me up, tearing me apart, tasting every bit, and having a grand old time."
Hervena narrowed her eyes and shook her head.
"What did the young master say? You went back again last night."
"Yeah. I did."
"He said he won't duel, right? His temperament's changed lately, so I figured as much."
"Seemed to me like he's planning to."
The hand Hervena had been using to lay out her pens went still.
"What the hell kind of nonsense is that?"
"He said he would. This Sunday."
"Hey, you—"
"Teacher's here. We'll talk later?"
With that, Skadi turned her face forward. Hervena stared blankly at her, and every bit of will she had left simply drained away.
An hour passed like that. Hervena could not focus on the lesson at all, and of course the reason was her master.
When she had faced Blow again after so long, she had known he was changed. She had seen it in him—an air as peaceful and clear as a sunlit field of barley. A warmth that did not suit him. A smile that did not suit him.
And yet a duel.
At those two syllables, the peace she had been feeling these past days seemed to vanish like foam. What frightened her most now was the thought of Blow Deblique returning to the man he used to be. People did not change so easily. Just because the sun that had always risen in the east rose in the west today, there was no promise it would do so tomorrow.
Into her tangled thoughts rose the most faded memory she owned.
"Mom! Over there!"
Blow was the one who found her—five years old, groaning under a bridge from an illness no one could name—and the baron and baroness took her in and had her treated. In a mansion like a palace, Hervena put warm bread in her mouth for the first time, and to her Blow was a prince out of a fairy tale. A savior.
At first he truly looked after her. He even laid a towel on her burning forehead with his own hands. But the weight of what he felt for her then seemed to have been no more than the impulse of a child begging to be given a puppy. Not even a month had passed before he showed her not a scrap of interest. And the Hervena of those days was far too young to notice that, or to understand it.
Several months after she came to the mansion, she held out a bouquet she had worked hard to make from wildflowers.
"Young Master, this..."
"What's that?"
"A bouquet. I made it..."
"If it's flowers, the garden's full of them."
"..."
"You always do the most useless things."
The tone was so cold that she clung to Megan and sobbed for a long while. Even so, her heart toward him did not break. Whatever it took, however she had to do it, she wanted her prince to acknowledge her. That was no easy thing. Megan was recognized throughout the mansion for that particular thoroughness of hers, and when it came to schoolwork, Hervena had no means of surpassing Jane.
I'm really nothing at all. What if I'm abandoned again?
She was sunk in that despair when a man entered the domain. His name was White Flame, a Great Mage—of whom the Empire had only six. He had been watching her closely, the girl who was only just barely allowed among the neighborhood children, and one day he called her over and asked her name.
"Girl. What's your name?"
"Hervena."
"Hervena, you have a talent for magic. I'll speak of this to the baron."
When she heard those words from him, she was so happy she could have leapt. This was an age when mages were treated with regard. If she became a Great Mage and showed him, then Blow would have to acknowledge her. She drew water for White Flame and dug medicinal herbs, and she learned magic with everything she had. The result was that she was able to set out for Caipol together with Jane, the genius who was called Blow's right hand.
She came to Caipol with a dream swollen full, certain she could become anything. What she met there was a darker despair still. Blow's temper, grown rough, showed no sign of improving—and of course he showed her not the slightest interest. The one small mercy was that she possessed a talent she could not have hidden even if she tried.
If I produce results that can't be denied, the young master will acknowledge me.
So resolved, she decided she would be first. Not second. First. He attended the school too, so he would know just how bright an achievement that was. The classes of the first semester of the first year crushed the students under a staggering mass of memorization, and she studied until her nose bled. It was unbearably hard, and she could not even make friends properly the way everyone else did, but she endured that time somehow, on the single-minded will to prove herself to Blow.
Talent acknowledged by a Great Mage, and effort beyond anyone else's—she bloomed once more. In the end she won the shining report card that named her first in her year for the first semester. The day she received it, rain was falling so hard she could not see ahead.
"Where's the young master?"
"Now? He's probably drinking at a tavern..."
"Can you tell me where?"
"Yeah. It's Egg Bam, in Dusk Block."
Hervena smiled brightly and gave Jane her thanks. Worry lay on Jane's face as she looked at her, but Hervena paid that shadow no mind at all. Surely her young master would tell her she had done well. Perhaps he might even stroke her hair.
She went into the tavern with her heart swollen full. And, in a way she truly could not understand, Blow did not so much as pretend to know her. He was pouring drink after drink with burly cadets from the knight school, and he did not give her a single glance. Only after a few of the cadets, pitying her, dropped him a hint did Blow pick up her report card, as if he had no choice.
"Young Master, I came in first in the year this time..."
"Yeah, well. Impressive."
He gave it a rough look and flung the report card back at her. Hervena barely caught the paper as it fluttered through the air, and with a trembling voice she managed to go on.
"Young Master... I really worked so hard..."
"I'll be drinking. Come get me at dawn."
That was the whole of what Blow said to her. She went back outside and wandered the streets in the pouring rain. She stood in it for hours, and still the knot clenched inside her chest was not washed away in the least. Only when she looked like a drowned rat did she return to the dormitory, where she crouched on the bed and thought.
They say if you become a Great Mage, everyone looks up to you.
She thought of her first teacher, White Flame.
Then I'll become that, and show him.
With venom settled in her heart, she cut away the long hair she had kept until that day. From then on she clenched her teeth and tried not to care what Blow did. Whether he seized a history teacher by the collar, dueled the students of the nearby knight school, set off bursts of flame on the school grounds at night, or drank until he could not properly attend class—she shoved it all aside with the thought that good Jane would handle it. And in her mind, she separated Blow from his house.
That was as far as her thinking went, back then, and until not so long ago.
But by some joke of the god of fate, Blow Deblique had changed. As if lightning had struck him, he had become the very shape she had always dreamed of. And that fact made Hervena so happy she could have cried.
The first time she hauled sacks of potatoes at his request, she returned to the dormitory and shed tears where no one could see. She was keeping it secret even from Skadi beside her, and from Megan, who had come up to Caipol. But she was happy. Happy the way she had been the first time she was served warm soup at the mansion.
The changed Blow Deblique selling roasted potatoes in that rough Dusk Block, bringing Melo, being acknowledged by his father—every time he accomplished something, she felt a fulfillment greater than when she herself had accomplished something. And on top of that, her young master never scolded her, no matter how she whined or clicked her tongue. He only smiled.
What will Melo cook tomorrow? What strange thing will the young master get up to tomorrow?
After Blow came up, the words every day had become, for her, another name for anticipation.
And in the middle of that—a duel.
She could not read his heart at all.
...That damned duel. What was a thing like that even worth? He could simply not do it. He did it so much back then—wasn't it past time he was sick of it? If, if he went back to the way he was before...
Afraid of everything, Hervena covered her face with her hands. Skadi, who had been quietly watching her from the side, let out a long, deep sigh.
Having more or less wrapped up the evening trade, Blow had come with Skadi and Jane to an empty lot in Dusk Block. Linne and Rowbedi, who had heard about the duel, were with them as well, and Hervena stood apart from the rest, arms folded, watching. Blow glanced back at them, then looked at Skadi with a burdened face.
"Isn't this too many spectators?"
"There'll be even more than this on Sunday, won't there?"
"Well, that's true."
"Think of it as practice, then. Especially that Linne—she's only a second-year, but she uses some pretty advanced magic."
"Th-thank you for thinking so well of me!"
Unused to praise, Linne bowed all the way to the waist. Skadi shrugged and shifted her gaze to Jane.
"All right, Jane. Is the amplification potion ready?"
"I made it in a hurry, but... it should help you."
"Does it increase the power of the magic?"
"Yes. You can think of it as drawing out, in a dense concentration, mana you'd otherwise only be able to use later."
"Sounds outrageously dangerous just from the description."
Blow drank the potion without hesitation. At the foul taste rushing in, his brow crumpled.
"It tastes like complete shit."
"Who cares about that. How's the mana?"
"Pretty good. Feels like I've got power to spare."
He drew his mana out for them to see. Beside him, Linne and Rowbedi let out sounds of open admiration.
"Boss! Your purity is better than I expected!"
"Yeah?"
"I think you'd better use it right now!"
Blow nodded and reached a hand toward the sky. A crimson magic circle unfurled at his fingertips.
Flames split into many streams and began to whip toward the place his hand indicated. Heat rose that felt as though it could cook flesh where they stood. Everyone's eyes went wide, and Skadi shot him a thumbs-up.
"If you'd thrown that my way just now, it would've been pretty dangerous!!"
"Wooow!!!"
Melo, who had been watching in secret, popped out and clapped. Afraid she might get hurt, Blow cut the spell short.
"Young Master! The flames are sooo beautiful!!"
"...Yeah?"
Melo nodded at him over and over.
"Show me just one more time!"
Skadi, looking at Melo, flicked a glance at Linne, and Linne drew the girl away from him. A magic circle formed in Skadi's hand as well.
"Blow! Incoming!"
Her water magic dove straight for Blow's flames—but it turned to steam before it ever touched them.
"Oh, yesterday you were barely holding off a single spell. Good! This time I'll try something else."
A wave taller than Skadi herself was summoned and drove toward Blow, but the barrier of flame he had called up overcame it and went on shining. Seeing that, Skadi called to him in a bright voice.
"This much in a single day is incredible progress!"
"It's the potion doing the work."
"Is it?"
The words were hardly out before Skadi sent a jet of water flying at him. Blow summoned flame again—but this time it did not vanish at a touch the way it had before. Her water swallowed the fire. Skadi waved a hand at the sight and stepped in close.
"Huh, it really is like that!? It's fine! We just have to finish before then. Jane, you're lining up a scroll too, right?"
"I should be able to bring it by tomorrow evening."
"Good. Tomorrow let's stoke it properly one more time."
"Wow, that's so cool!!"
Melo's eyes sparkled as she watched them, and she began waving her hands forward with all her might.
"Fire Dance! Flame Shell!"
Nothing at all came from her hands. Laughter slipped from every mouth that saw her.
"Why won't it work for me!?"
"To do that, you have to feel mana first, Melo."
"Eh? What's that..."
Skadi went over to Melo, who looked as though she understood none of it, and stroked her head.
"It's something ordinary people have a hard time feeling. If there's time later, this big sister will teach you. Heheh."
They traded blows for another thirty minutes or so, until dizziness took Blow and he leaned against a tree. Skadi came over with worry on her face.
"...Blow, let's stop here for today. You already did this at lunch, too."
"Hah. It does seem to go a bit better after the potion, but..."
"The rebound's caught up with you. I think it's because you haven't been using any mana at all until now."
Rebound. The word for what happened when a potion, or some special magic, made a caster spend too much mana at once, so that the mana turned impure in an instant and struck back at the one who had cast it. Ordinarily, as in a mana rampage, the mana would trace itself through the body like veins of blood, or the flesh would be pushed past its limit and show dizziness, vomiting, and the like.
"Young Master! Are you okay?"
Blow smiled at Melo as if to say he was fine, let out a long breath, and spoke.
"...I'm fine. Let's go drink some beer."
"Yeah, let's go drink beer!! I'm having twenty mugs today!"
Rowbedi moved to support him, but Blow nodded that he was all right. While Linne explained—Just now, when you draw your mana, if you do it like this...!—and Blow nodded along, Hervena bit down hard on her lower lip and raked a hand through her own hair for no reason at all.
The table at Nynix had grown loud with drink. Hervena spoke to Skadi and Jane in a low voice.
"Jane. Skadi."
"Hm?"
"Let's talk. Just for a minute."
At her words, Jane's eyes met Skadi's. Blow, just then, was too busy talking with Melo and Linne to notice any of it.
"All right."
They followed Hervena out behind the inn. She looked at them for a moment, then spoke as if she could not understand.