A Leaf of the World Tree
A ceasefire and an alliance request, of all things.
Serhin would never do this — not if he were alive.
It had to be one of two things. Either Serhin was truly dead, or he had gone mad.
I stopped mid-stride, halting in the middle of the corridor.
Serhin... is dead?
The moment the thought took shape, a heaviness settled over my chest.
Serhin had been the master I once served at sword's point — but he had also been a friend who shared long years beside me. Dwelling on his death was never a welcome exercise.
No. That's not it.
I shook my head, brushing the unverified hypothesis out of my mind. There was no sense spiraling into gloom over something I'd merely imagined.
Nothing has actually been confirmed.
Above all, Serhin was not the kind of man to die so easily.
Once, a long time ago, he had shown up half-dead, his body a ruin — and when I fussed over him, worried sick, he had said this to me:
"As if I'd ever die before you and leave you behind."
Right. That was exactly the kind of man he was.
Whatever happened, he'd survive it and come striding back to stand in front of me.
So no — I would set aside these needless worries about Serhin being dead or driven mad.
I started walking down the corridor again.
"A ceasefire request and an alliance proposal at the same time... What on earth has happened to the Tenasis Empire?"
Ed asked gravely, and Kadrian shook his head.
"We know nothing yet. We'll find out once we enter the palace."
The letter itself contained only a brief summary regarding the alliance. The details would have to wait until the council was formally underway.
"So another marathon meeting, then."
"Looks like it."
The Grand Council of Nobles.
In the Cadea Empire, the imperial faction, the noble faction, and the temple faction each selected five houses, granting them the right to attend the Grand Council. It was there that the empire's most critical affairs were debated and decided — and matters as weighty as an alliance were settled within that very chamber.
Which meant that by now, grand nobles from every corner of the empire would be making their way up to the imperial palace in the capital.
Ed stroked his chin and spoke.
"Your Highness. It seems fairly certain that His Majesty the Emperor will accept this alliance proposal."
"He will. There's no justification left for refusing."
The Cadea Empire had waged war for long years to claim the Remarte Disputed Territory. And the longer a war dragged on, the heavier the burden grew on the empire's own people. The costs of recruiting and maintaining soldiers were ultimately drawn from their labor and their taxes.
On top of that, with every passing year of war, more families lost parents, children, brothers, and sisters — and the strain had begun to warp the very structure of society. There was no way the imperial family could have been blind to the melancholy and despair saturating the entire empire.
And then, at precisely this moment, the Tenasis Empire had requested a ceasefire — and even proposed an alliance.
The Emperor of Cadea would surely see it as an opportunity.
"So he can end the war and soothe the hearts of his people, while wringing every last concession out of Tenasis that can possibly be wrung. Is that the shape of it?"
"Exactly. And it means gaining an ally to face the black magicians alongside us."
Kadrian slid open a desk drawer and drew out a single leather pouch.
It was the one the High Priest had given him — the day Freya and he had visited the temple together not long ago.
He held the pouch out to Ed.
"Take a look."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Ed opened the pouch Kadrian handed him and examined its contents. He had assumed it would hold something connected to the Tenasis alliance — what emerged instead was nothing of the sort. His eyes went wide with surprise.
"A... leaf?"
What Ed drew from the pouch was a single leaf.
Its vivid green surface looked freshly plucked from its branch, still brimming with life. The cut end of the stem glistened with moisture, and its sturdy veins spoke unmistakably of good health.
A golden vein ran straight down the center of the deep green blade, with fine, delicate veins branching off to either side in perfect symmetry. The pattern woven from straight lines and curves was so mysterious it evoked the ancient script of a forgotten tongue.
Thanks to those veins, glowing faintly like starlight in a night sky, the whole leaf glittered as though it had been dusted with powdered gold.
Ed flicked the leaf lightly back and forth as he spoke. Despite the careless gesture, his expression and voice were utterly earnest.
"This is a World Tree leaf."
"It is. Ever seen one before?"
Ed shook his head.
"Never with my own eyes. But I knew the general appearance from the ancient texts preserved within my tribe."
Ed was of the Marcats tribe. The Marcats — wolf beastfolk — were a nomadic people, and because they roamed the continent without settling anywhere for long, they had accumulated a wealth of knowledge from every corner of the land.
Ed studied the leaf a moment longer, then tilted his head.
"But something doesn't add up, Your Highness. Didn't you tell me that the World Tree has ceased its activity and is dying?"
"I did."
"Then I can't understand how a leaf this healthy could have grown from a tree that's stopped living. Could it possibly be a forgery?"
"It came from the High Priest himself, so there's no doubt it's a genuine World Tree leaf."
"Then... you're saying the World Tree is coming back to life?"
Kadrian paused, recalling the High Priest's words, then slowly nodded.
"...The leaves began to grow again precisely two years ago, he said."
"!"
At that answer, Ed's eyebrows shot up.
"Y-Your Highness! Two years ago — isn't that exactly when she awakened?"
"..."
The she Ed spoke of was Freya.
"Then there's no reason left to doubt her, is th-there?!"
Ed stammered — a rare thing for him. Kadrian continued, unruffled.
"The High Priest says there are traces of black magic on that soul."
"...I beg your pardon?"
Ed pressed his lips together tightly, then opened his mouth slowly.
"But when we brought the crystal orb back from the temple and checked, there was no reaction to black magic. And now, suddenly, black magic?"
"According to the High Priest, it's no more than a faint smudge — but even that much constitutes evidence of contact with black magic."
Ed hastily thrust the leaf forward, eyes flashing.
"Your Highness! This is what evidence looks like! This leaf you can hold in your hand — not a single word from the High Priest!"
Whew. Ed exhaled and reined in his agitation.
"Besides, you said it was just a smudge, didn't you? Not exactly the kind of thing that clings to you like the dust you pick up walking down a road, is it?!"
"The dust on a roadside and black magic smeared across a soul belong to entirely different realms. Funny how a clever fellow starts spouting nonsense the moment it suits him."
"N-no, that's... that much is true, but..."
Ed's voice trailed off.
Still. What if His Highness is right — what if the soul really was tampered with by a black magician?
There were simply too many suspicious points to accept Freya at face value, no questions asked.
Ed thought he understood, too, why Kadrian could not bring himself to be certain.
He gazed at the leaf with something like regret.
If only her memories had come back whole...
If Freya had not lost her memories, none of this suspicion would have been necessary.
With so many circumstances pointing against her, no single leaf could bury every doubt.
The World Tree coming back to life is undeniable proof that her soul awakened. But it isn't proof that she woke in her own body.
That, most likely, was where Kadrian felt a more careful approach was required.
Ed asked cautiously.
"You... haven't already made your decision, have you?"
He was asking about Freya's disposition.
Kadrian spoke heavily.
"I intend to show her to one more person. As a final test."
"Ah...!"
Ed had a fair guess as to who that one person was, and a groan escaped him.
"Since I'll be stopping by the Grand Duke's residence after this campaign anyway, I'm holding off on any decision until then."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Hoo. Ed let out a long, relieved sigh.
Just then, Kadrian lifted the letter lying on his desk.
"And one more thing."
"Yes?"
Kadrian waved the letter back and forth so that Ed could see it clearly.
"The palace is restricting us to a single attendant."
"Ah..."
By custom, a noble entering the palace brought attendants in his retinue — a guard knight, an aide, or a vassal. And before entering, one was obliged to write down the identity of one's chosen companion and submit it to the palace in advance.
Kadrian held the letter out to Ed and asked.
"Will you come?"
"Eh—what?!"
Ed shot up out of his seat in protest. He glared at the letter as though it were something filthy and shouted.
"Absolutely not!"
It was common enough for an aide to accompany his lord into the palace as part of his retinue.
But Ed clearly wanted no part of that perfectly ordinary arrangement.
"I don't want to... cause Your Highness any more trouble than I already have."
His eyes dropped to the floor, and his voice sank low and gloomy.
Kadrian looked at him and shook his head.
The truth was that Ed disliked crossing paths with the members of other noble houses.
Because the prejudice of those who had once kept beastfolk as slaves still lingered, stubborn as ever.
Once — just once — he had lost his composure entirely and gone berserk inside the palace. The nobles who mocked and demeaned him had gone so far as to drag Kadrian's name into their sneering.
The head of one noble house had been badly injured in the affair.
Kadrian had smoothed things over as best he could, but in the end, one of the Grand Duke's mines passed into the hands of the victim's family as compensation.
After that, Ed had made a point of avoiding any gathering where nobles assembled.
Kadrian nodded.
"Nothing to be done about it, then. I could bring Allen or Count Norbert instead."
At that, Ed hurried over and said,
"Don't do that — take our head butler with you instead!"