Editing Dantalian no Shoka:Volume1 Chapter5 (section)

===Part 1===

This stone-built residence was half a day away from the capital, going by car and train.

However, the aristocratic owner of this cottage was just a come-down regional lord. So it wasn't all that palatial. It was just a very old building, really.

One could see the courtyard behind the thrown-open gate.

A wide range of flowers were blooming in all kinds of colours, and the morning fog had wet the grass that was growing thickly there.

The yard had probably not been cared for in years. It looked much more like a wilderness than a garden.

It was quite hard to believe that this place was occupied until just half a month ago, looking at this pitiful scenery.

A man was walking on the stone pavement of this garden.
[[Image:Dantalian_no_Shoka-vol1-p175.jpg|thumb|A man was walking on the stone pavement of this garden.]]
It was a young man wearing a frock coat. In his left hand, he held a small travel bag.

The face under the hat looked still young; he was probably about 18 or 19 years old.

His walk gave off the impression of a trained soldier, yet one could not sense any rudeness in the atmosphere enveloping him. His mien resembled the one of an earnest boy.

The young man arrived at the door at the end of the stone paving and stopped.

After gazing at the dilapidated mansion for a while, he laughed wryly at last.

"Did I inherit something troublesome there, I wonder...? Jeez, grandpa..."

He searched his pockets and took out an old key.

The key was golden with a rather strong tinge of red. A red jewel was worked into its shaft and the key was connected to a thin chain.

"I had always thought that he didn't care about others, but I didn't expect him to live at such a place," he murmured, mixed with a wry smile, and brought the golden key towards the lock of the entrance.

However, he instantly gave up on that and lowered his arm.

The key obviously did not match the shape of the keyhole.

"It's not the key to this door, huh... well, no big surprise I guess," he sighed lightly and hung the golden key around his neck like a pendant.

Then he searched his pocket again and took out an old bunch of keys.

They looked ordinary and weren't decorated in particular.

After trying out several of those keys, the door finally opened.

He slowly pushed the oak door open and entered the mansion.

After looking around in the dark with narrowed eyes, disappointment flashed on his face.

There was nothing inside.

The minimal things needed for living such as a leather sofa or a dining table were there, but other than that, there was nothing.

The book shelves were especially strange.

They were embedded in the walls of this mansion.

But not a single book was stored in them.

The young man touched the board of a shelf and stained his finger with the thick dust that had accumulated there.

This was proof that this shelf had not been used in years.

"What does that mean...?" he frowned suspiciously, and proceeded further to the inside.

The weak light shining in from the windows illuminated the dancing dust white. It looked almost like a deserted building.

The walls of each and every room next to the corridor were covered by giant book shelves.

But all of them were empty, without exception.

Not one book remained in this mansion.

Although there were no traces of them being carried out, they all had disappeared mysteriously.

Still confused by this fact, the young man finally arrived at the last room.

The room was inside a tower on the courtyard side.

The inside was small like a storeroom. The cold stone walls weren't coated with anything and an empty bookshelf was at the corner of the room.

The young man briefly looked around in the room. He was about to return to the corridor when he suddenly noticed something.

Below the thin cotton dust on the carpet, one could see something that looked like a rail.

"...I see."

A wry smile flashed on his face, upon which he lightly pushed the book shelf next to the wall.

The deep sound of gears resounded and the big book shelf slowly turned around.

A cavity appeared behind. It was a narrow staircase leading deep underground.

Taking a lamp that had been left in the mansion, the young man started to descend the dark stairs.

When he opened the door at the end of the hidden tunnel, he arrived at a broad basement.

The walls of the dark, damp room were dimly lit by faint lights. Furthermore, constructs that looked like half-destroyed pillars were scattered throughout the whole room and were casting long shadows.

At this sight, the young man flashed an amazed smile.

Those pillars consisted of books.

All those countless books of the mansion had been gathered and piled up in this basement, filling up half of its space. It was like looking at [http://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E7%84%A1%E7%B8%81%E4%BB%8F oriental grave stones], built by piling up stones.

It didn't seem like they were carried here for a purpose. It looked like someone had been reading books and had just thrown the ones he was done with somewhere, which finally led to this sight.

There were all kinds of books. Everything from cheap yellowbacks to complicated books about philosophy.

There were also many books written in old or foreign languages. It looked like someone had been reading through any paper with letters on it in reach.

Almost buried in those thousands of books, a small silhouette had bent its back without making any sound.

It was a young girl.

A little girl was sitting all alone on an armchair and had a book laid open on her knees.

In the basement of a deserted mansion, she was reading a book.

Upon seeing this unexpected spectacle, the young man held his breath, surprised.

The girl was so beautiful one could hardly believe she belonged to the living.

Her elegant black hair reached to her waist and was bound together by a lace headdress.

The colour of her eyes was as black as the night.

Her skin had a characteristic, oriental colour and seemed smooth like honey that was melted into milk; she looked almost like a valuable porcelain.<!-- Omitted the "the blood of the orient seemed to be strong in her"-->

Her dress was jet black.

The dress reminded one of the ceremonial robes of medieval knights; an odd mixture that couldn't be called dress or armor.

Her skirt was layered smoothly with many frills and her waist was decorated with a ribbon and seemed as frail as a fragile article. The metallic protectors on the back of her hands and the unrefined tasset that enfolded these outlines of her were rather strange, as they didn't fit to the dress that was decorated with laces.

She didn't make a movement; her gaze was focused on the book. There was no change in her artificial-seeming expression either.

"A doll...?" the young man murmured spontaneously. But then, one could hear the sound of a turning page.

In the next moment, she had already raised her head and was directly gazing at him.

His own surprised face was reflected in her insensate eyes that seemed like a clear morion.

But still unsure whether she really was human, the young man stood there dumbfounded until she said,

"Hey... who are you?" Moving her jewel-like lips, she continued, "What business does a human have here?"

Her voice sounded as lovely as the chirping of a songbird.

"What did you... come here for?" the girl asked the young man once again.

Her choice of words was confident and brash, but her voice wavered slightly at the end of the sentence. Her expressionless black eyes seemed kind of fearful.

At first, the young man appeared slightly surprised, but then he took off his hat<!--Why did I write head at first?--><!-- I wouldn't know. --><!--I thought you knew your stuff (物知り--> and bowed.

Her demonstration that she was a human made of flesh and blood and not a doll had apparently reminded him that such a gesture was a matter of course in front of a lady. Although she was a younger girl---

--- or possibly a diabolical figure.

"Please excuse my rudeness. My name is Huey. Hugh Anthony Disward. The grandson of the former owner of this mansion, actually."

He may have introduced himself politely, but that didn't change a thing about the girl's distrustful stare.

With the thick book in her arms, she stood up and carefully stepped backwards.

She was wary of Huey.

Or rather, she was afraid of him. Like a timid, shy child.

"You are... Wes' grandchild?"

She asked sceptically, upon which the young man, Huey, raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you acquainted with grandpa? How have you been related?" asked the slightly confused young man, while being glared at by the black-haired girl.

When Huey came a step closer, she became startled and hid half her face behind her book as if it were a shield.

"You may not come even a single step closer." She tried to scare him off. "I was the first to ask."

"Huh?"

"Tell me... why does Wes' grandson come here after such a long time?"

The young man stood surprised for a moment, but then he got a grip and slightly shook his head. "I am looking for the library."

"Library?" The girl cocked her head slightly.

Huey nodded. "Ah, it seems to be some kind of odd private library of which no one knows exactly where it is. I thought I might hit upon a clue here by searching through grandpa's collection."

"What's the name of that... library?"

"Ahh... what was it again... oh, right, Bibliotheca... Bibliotheca Mystica de Dantalian, I think...," said Huey, pondering while searching his blurred memories with squinted eyes.

The girl's face tensed. Her eyes, resembling the ones of a fearful cat, quivered in surprise.

"How... how did you get to know that name?" For some reason, she seemed to be irritated.

Huey noted her excessive reaction with surprise. The girl stared back wordlessly.

The young man gave in with a sigh. "...it was written in his will," he said without beating about the bush any longer.

"His will?" She made a bewildered face.

Huey took a crumpled envelope out of his coat and showed the girl the names of the sender and the receiver. "Grandpa sent me this letter shortly before his death. It says that he leaves all rights for this mansion to me. Under one condition."

"Condition...?"

"Actually, that is a mystery to me as well. 'Take over the «Bibliotheca Mystica».' That's all it said." Huey shrugged.

The girl eyed Huey without a word. She seemed to ponder something. Finally, she lowered her stare and murmured by herself, "...there is no such thing here. Nor anywhere in this world."

"So there's no book here where I could find a clue, either?" Huey grimaced out of unease. He looked around, at the mountains of books that filled this basement, and then he asked with a slightly astounded face, "...How can you be so sure about that? Or do you even want to tell me that you've read all these books?"

The girl nodded without hesitation. Then, she briefly and succinctly declared with an emotionless voice, "I was bored."

Now Huey was completely bereft of speech.

The giant anthology of his bibliomaniac grandfather, who had collected these over half the time of his life, was placed in this room.

Among the books were quite a few written in old, no longer used languages or ones written in strange signs. Even ancient documents, which would have to be deciphered by linguists, were among them.

But the girl in front of his eyes claimed to have read them all.

He couldn't believe it. But the girl didn't convey the impression of talking nonsense, either.

"Who... are you?" asked Huey, puzzled. "Why are you all alone in here? How are you related to grandpa?"

The girl's answer was simple, "Wez and I were friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes. He... was, a good man. It is really unfortunate that he passed away." She spoke with an absent look. A slight undertone of loneliness was in her voice.

"Really?" Huey didn't seem to be able to share her feelings. "Well... in his own way, even he was a lonely old man. I'm sure he was happy that a little girl from close by like you kept him company," he said. "But I don't think it's good to just break into other people's cellars," he added with a slightly contorted face.

The girl however, kept quiet. 

"Whatever. Tell me, might you have seen a cat or a dog around this mansion?" Huey composed himself and stated a question.

"No. I have seen no such thing around here," she shook her head indifferently.

Huey, puzzled, touched his cheek and said, "It might also be some kind of reptile... its name is 'Dalian'."

"Dalian?" The girl frowned.

Huey nodded with a sigh. "I actually didn't care about grandpa's will. I only came because I incidentally had some business in this town. But the annex of this letter had me a bit bothered..."

Out of the envelope he took out a crumpled sheet of paper, which was stuck between the will<!--stuck?-->.

On the paper was a short text in messy handwriting.

"'Take care of Dalian', it says... since it's from that man, I guess he wanted to tell me to take care of his pet." Huey showed her the text with a serious expression.

"P...Pet?!"

"That's why I thought I should hurry and and find that poor thing. After all, it would be a problem if it raged around the house, or if it were hungry, not to think of the excrement---"

"You... idiot of a grandson!"

Before Huey could finish talking, the girl let out a deep, angry voice from her lips.

A moment later, the young man contorted his face in pain. The black-clothed girl, who had fearfully stood by the wall beforehand, had suddenly run up to him and kicked his shin with the heel of her boot.

"Ouch. Why suddenly...?" Huey immediately protested, but was interrupted.

"Dalian is ''my'' name."

"...eh?!"

Huey could not hide his surprise in front of her beautiful, but angry face.

Then confusion appeared in his face. He had finally noticed what a peculiar trinket the girl wore.

Placed in the chest area of the noble dress, which was made of countless frills and laces, ''It'' was shining dully at the place where a ribbon or an adornment of flowers was supposed to be.

A steel box, affixed to a black leather band by silver chains.

A big, old lock hung in front of the girl's chest.