The Weight of a Thousand Pages

The library was vast enough to feel almost excessive for the simple task of organizing a journey and closing a book. In one far corner, a fireplace crackled alone, its flames struggling to drive out the creeping damp of Riaska. The other three walls, untouched by its warmth, were crammed with research documents, encyclopedias, and illustrations.

Though the space was so large that stepping inside brought an immediate wave of loneliness, there were no windows at all. This was partly to preserve the books and materials, but it had also been designed for my sake. In this land where rain fell every day and storms raged without mercy, only a room with no walls facing the outside could truly shield me from the sound of thunder.

Perhaps it was the side effect of my bond with that entity growing stronger, forcing me to confront memories from my previous life head-on. Whatever the reason, I had come to fear the distant rumble of thunder with pure instinct. My best guess… was that it stemmed from having died by electrocution.

No matter how hard I tried to control it with reason, it was useless. Bishop Lumina, taking pity on my suffering, had attempted hypnosis. Rin had even tried directly manipulating my brain. None of it worked. It was as if the very essence of my soul had already been imprinted with terror toward electricity and lightning.

That was why the library had to be built in such a thoroughly enclosed location.

And so, in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠center of this study—completely isolated from the sky and the reverberations of the storms—stood an enormous research table scattered with all manner of pictures and documents.

On that table rested a small magical lamp, glowing with a soft white light that flickered gently when infused with mana. Before it, casting a long shadow, was a small, weary-looking figure meticulously organizing the materials spread across the desk.

…It was me.

I slipped a bookmark into the final pages of the massive, thick book—nearly two thousand pages long, made from high-quality, long-lasting paper—then collapsed into my chair with a sigh. It was a sigh of deep satisfaction.

“Haa… It’s finally done.”

Of all the tasks I had undertaken in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this life, the greatest one was nearing completion. Only one final knot remained: the keystone to place atop everything once the rest had been stacked.

The Bountiful Lands of Rest: A Complete Encyclopedia of Riaska’s History, Culture, Folklore, Products, and Geography.

It was an encyclopedia and propaganda piece about a distant land, sponsored by Bishop Lumina, the ruler of Cashel Groa. Most of Riaska’s power holders—who governed their own territories while loosely united by a common faith—had contributed to its writing, directly or indirectly.

At two thousand pages, it included detailed illustrations drawn by Rin herself. The text was written in tiny script to fit as much content as possible. Copying it would be an arduous task, yet I had already prepared several incomplete drafts to send to Riaska’s bishops.

It had been easy. With enough paper or parchment, I could have printed far more. The grimoire Master Viran left me even contained the duplication spell she had once used to copy her own magic book. I never imagined I would use such a grand spell for something like this first.

I stared quietly at the golden embossing on the cover.

…Co-authored by Kaira, Daughter of Pirel and Rasail, and Rin, Daughter of Kaira.

I still wondered if we could truly travel the empire under these names, but for now, we would go with it. Perhaps the very fact that it was written by the infamous “Witch of Sand” would serve as its own form of promotion. If the book were even banned, more people would want to read it.

“Once the final revisions are done, I’ll write the preface, correct any typos, check the annotations thoroughly several times, and then distribute the copies…”

Slouched in my chair, I blinked up at the ceiling where an unlit, ornate chandelier hung. Just as I picked up my pen again and reached for the inkwell, someone knocked cautiously on the library door.

“Come in.”

There was a click as the handle turned, followed by a desperate grunting sound. That alone told me who it was.

Rin, who still looked exactly as I had at ten years old, entered carrying a basket and spoke carefully.

“Mom, these are fruits freshly picked this spring. Bishop Lumina picked them herself and put them in the basket. Please eat some while you work.”

“Thank you. By the way, how did the thing I asked for turn out?”

“You mean distributing the concentrated distillate of fruit spirits? Thanks to the bishop practically forcing the issue, it’s being used widely inside Cashel Groa, especially among midwives and doctors. I’ve organized the before-and-after data. I’ll hand it over to you soon.”

That’s right. Since I was writing the book anyway, I had decided to include a bit of… fabrication. With an alchemist daughter and a land where distilled spirits were everyday fare, I planned to spread ethanol disinfection methods throughout Riaska before the book was finished, presenting them to the empire as one of this region’s astonishing customs.

It would have been nice if I could have made something like red medicine, but in my previous life I had only known it was effective—I had no idea how to actually make it. This was the best I could do.

Rin handed me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the fruit basket, then pulled a small flask from her pocket.

“…That’s alcohol, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Hehe.”

“It’s bad for you. Drink in moderation.”

“I’m a magical being, so I don’t have to worry about that. And even if my body gets damaged, I have plenty of replacement cells, so it’s fine.”

I pouted, clearly displeased.

“The girl who used to pass out after just one drink when she was inside my head has grown up a lot.”

“When I was staying at Lord Naixon’s house, I had to come into contact with all kinds of chemicals. I mutated in various ways during that time and gained resistance! Hehe.”

Perhaps because there were so many opportunities to encounter distilled spirits in this land where even children and farmers thought nothing of drinking during the day, Rin had developed a hobby of tasting various alcohols every day in that tiny body of hers. Since the alcohol would transfer to me the moment it touched her protoplasmic outer layer, I tried to avoid physical contact with her as much as possible.

…It was a lesson I had learned only after several occasions of becoming completely drunk, losing my mind, and begging her to extend her slender tentacles and ravage my brain or womanhood.

As I had written in the book, the people of Riaska were well aware that drinking too much alcohol shortened one’s lifespan. Yet whenever the topic came up, the residents of every territory in Riaska would answer in perfect unison:

I put on a pair of gloves. I needed to stroke the head of my tiny daughter, who was already tipsy and beginning to melt back into soft, swaying slime. And I had to do it without getting drunk myself.

I stroked Rin’s head. Though she maintained a human shape, she had no body heat, so her skin felt cold. It was cool, squishy, slightly sticky, chewy, and had a pleasant elasticity that bounced back with a delightful jiggle when pressed and released.

This is healing…

Calming my mind with that pleasant sensation, I began thinking about the preface.

At that moment, something slipped through the gap of the open library door with a soft shhh. There was only one being in this entire palace who could move with such a presence.

“Did you cough, Bishop?”

I deliberately spoke loudly. Immediately, a long shadow crept silently into the room from beyond the door, as if seeping through the wood.

The pale, faint light of the magical lantern—thin as spider silk—illuminated Lumina’s pure white face.

“Indeed. Another beautiful night, Lady Kaira. I heard that your writing is nearly finished these past few days. Might I see the completed manuscript today?”

“You already know the progress, since I update the copies for you every day, Bishop.”

The elderly vampire with a snake’s tail smiled benevolently.

“Ufufu. That may be true, but I’ve found myself feeling like a child eagerly awaiting the completion of a wonderful new toy. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.”

I offered a gentle smile to my gracious patron.

The support Lumina had given me went far beyond material and logistical aid for the book. She had also helped me release my pent-up heat at appropriate intervals so I wouldn’t fall completely into corruption. There had been some influence from the captivating gaze unique to vampires, the way she looked at me with eyes full of desire.

Still, for over three years, Lumina had frequently played with me—and with Rin—at night… or rather, during the day, cooling my burning body. In return, she always took a few sips of blood. She was more than worthy of gratitude.

“All that remains is the preface, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once the overall revisions are complete.”

“I see. It really is almost finished. Though the most difficult part still lies ahead. In a preface, it’s best to make the strongest possible claim. You should write it so that readers can imagine, even once, what intentions Lady Kaira had in writing this book.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“However, there is one regrettable aspect, which is why I came to give you a small hint.”

As Lumina spoke, her snake-like tongue flicked out. The fact that the ruler of a vast territory—with plenty to do even at night—and a bishop who was essentially a queen overseeing the divided rule of Riaska had set aside time for me meant this was no casual visit.

“If you have any advice on what should be added or revised in my humble work, I will treasure it and not let it pass unheard.”

“There’s no need to be so formal. Now, the regrettable part… is the section about you, Lady Kaira.”

“Me…? About… me…?”

But this book was an encyclopedia of Riaska’s customs. Any content related to the author would be unnecessary embellishment. As if reading my confusion, Lumina smiled softly.

“Yes. The adventures you experienced. This book will likely be immediately designated as banned in the empire. People will wonder what possessed the Witch of Sand to write her own name into a book that introduces Riaska. If you add a little of your adventure story, it will truly become a book beloved by the people. As an afterword to the preface, perhaps.”

It was certainly an appetizing suggestion. It would allow me to publicize my adventures while safely spreading the claim that I had been unjustly framed and called a witch.

“But that would be quite a long story. Is such an unnecessary section really needed in an encyclopedia?”

“Well, a little length won’t hurt, will it? It’s not merely a dictionary but a travelogue. The author’s own tales of wandering the world would lend it credibility. I’d like to read such an interesting introduction myself. Take all the time you need.”

I thought quietly. Certainly, having the chance to defend myself through the book was not a bad choice. The only problems were where to begin and whether I could resurrect the memories of melting away inside the parasite’s burrow.

I closed the thick manuscript where I had written a line or two of the preface and pointed out the issue.

“I’m worried whether I’ll be able to remember that long journey well enough to write it.”

“Recollection is not labor but pleasure. I will give you all the time you need. Organize your thoughts while eating, while sleeping, while sitting comfortably in a chair—any way at all. Shall I cast a hypnosis spell if you wish? One that can draw out your memories fully.”

“If you need me, I can help too. Since I can poke around in your brain and make contact anywhere, I should be able to make even faded memories clear again.”

I bitterly declined the consideration of the two who offered to help me with such spine-chilling words.

“It’s all right. Then, as you said, I’ll recall the old memories one page at a time…”

After sending the two away, I slumped in the library chair. Lumina’s rising meant it was already the middle of the night. Spending the entire day—and now the night—buried in the smell of old paper without seeing a single ray of sunlight had left me somewhat exhausted.

Yes. Let’s take it slow and remember.

I relaxed my body, gradually letting my consciousness blur, and struggled to recall the beginning of the adventure I would introduce to the readers…<|eos|>