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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 06 Chapter 1

2013-08-13T21:03:49Z

72.18.60.8: /* Chapter 1: Emissary */

== Chapter 1: Emissary ==

===Part 1===

A buck casually walked atop a mountain ridge with an arid wind whistling around it.

The creature stood head and shoulders above its brethren and its right horn grew in a bizarre shape. The beast looked repulsive and monstrous.

To the villagers living at the foothills, it was a monster to be feared. In broad daylight, the creature trampled their fields as it pleased, eating its fill of the crops before disappearing into the mountains.

They could not stop it. Those who dared to give chase, hoes at the ready, were gored by its horns, suffering grievous wounds. Teams of seasoned hunters were sent to hunt it down. But this buck had a prodigious sense of smell and leg strength beyond the norm. It saw through every trap and when the hunters drew close, it would leap across cliffs, jump atop the rocky crags, or simply slide down steep slopes to elude them. As a result, even after three days and nights they had not been able to take it down.

And yet one young man was now bringing his bow to bear on this creature.

He could not have seen more than twenty winters and was of average build. But if one espied the arm which peeked out from his sleeves one could see that he was not lacking in training. There was vigor under his dark red locks and his gaze was keen as it focused on the buck.

From his hiding place in the crags below the stag’s ridge, there was a distance of about 300 alsin. No distance for a mere bow. If asked, any seasoned hunter would shake his head and advise to close in sixty, even seventy paces. What's more, this boy was also aiming against the grain of gravity, shooting from a low position to a higher one. A light breeze blew downhill from the ridge to the crag. With this, his approach and attack would be masked against his prey. Yet if he missed, this good fortune would have been in vain.

All this, the young man knew well. But he did not waver. He kept calm, notching a single arrow with an ease born of unceasing practice, following through until he had drawn the bow taut.

The wind ceased for but an instant. The young man, as though foreseeing this, let loose that arrow. It traced an arc through the sky and struck the stag in the neck.

It was an unerring blow almost as if it was sucked in by some unknown force. And yet the beast did not cry out. Rather it turned and fled in the direction opposite to the young man.

At this, he at last showed consternation. “Looks like that huge frame wasn’t just for show...”

Leaving his hiding spot he nocked another arrow as he made his way up the slope. It was not meant for the buck - in his mind, the hunt had been all but ended by his first strike. This arrow was meant for any surprises that might crop up along the way.

<nowiki>*</nowiki>Patata* The sound of flapping wings entered his ears as a creature the size of a large cat passed by his side.

But it was no cat. It was a dragon - its reptilian form scaled bronze with a greenish hue from head to tail, with horns, coarse sharp teeth, and wings that reminded one of a bat. Flitting about freely, as though disregarding the young man that was its companion.

If they were on level ground, he might have traveled on equal pace with it. But as it was, he stood in the rough of the rocks, only able to smile bitterly at the departing form of the dragon.

Regulating his breathing carefully, he scaled the ridge-

-and was dumbfounded by what he saw.

Where he had hidden there was naught but a barren rocky wasteland, and yet beyond the ridge there sprawled a large forest, filled with trees, bark, and dense greenery.

“Well. It’s not that I can’t find it...but this is going to be a chore.”

He was hesitant to go down. But he could not simply leave the mountain. The villagers would remain uneasy if he merely told them ‘the beast has been taken care of’. He needed proof of his hunt.

“And I still need to find Lunie...”

Lunie, of course, was the dragon who had just left him behind. Thankfully, he knew that he needn’t worry. It was small, but it was a dragon nonetheless. No creature in the woods would dare attack it. And though it was now nowhere to be seen, it was likely that it had gone after the wounded buck.

Making his way down the slope, the young man took great care as he stepped into the thicket. There could be snakes about, and he didn’t want to risk snagging his clothes on the branches. Once past the thicket, the cold air wrapped around him as he stepped into the verdant woods. The sunlight was greatly dimmed by the undergrowth and some trees even snaked along slope’s surface.

Indeed, there were few things worse than traversing a forest infested by overgrown weeds and roots.

As he approached cautiously, another *patata* of flapping wings could be heard. He stopped, and sure enough, out from deep within the forest’s gloom came Lunie. Recognizing him, the dragon whelp did an artful about-turn in mid-air and went back the way it came.

The young man gave chase and in not even ten paces, he found himself standing before the fallen buck. It had long breathed its last, having bled enough from the wound on its neck staining its fur-coat a deep crimson. Even so he did not relax - there were many tales of seemingly dead beasts using their last ounce of strength to rise up and bring their killers down with them in a rage. And judging from the distance between the ridge and the forest there was still a possibility that more wild beasts would come, having caught the scent of blood.

But Lunie seemed unwilling to humor his cautiousness, plonking itself unceremoniously onto the carcass and spitting him with a look of impatience. ‘Hurry up’, it seemed to say.

The young man grimaced, but made no hurried move nonetheless. Slowly he crept up to the buck, making sure that there were no other creatures about. Only when he had been absolutely certain did he return the arrow to its quiver, before taking a knee in front of the creature.

“Well done, Lunie,” he said, and at last flashed a genuine smile.

The young man’s name was Tigrevurmund Vorn.

Those close to him called him Tigre.

This year, he would be 17. Half a year had gone by since the day he left the land of his birth in Alsace to live in LeitMeritz, in the neighbouring country of Zhcted.

Tigre had initially thought to bring the buck down the mountain with him, but he’d happily given up on that thought upon realizing that the creature was heavy. Extraordinarily so at that.

So he hung the creature by its legs to a tree using a rope he’d prepared beforehand and prepared to dissect it.

Uncharacteristically, Lunie was curled up at his feet, but Tigre was not fooled. It was there only so it could get at the entrails that fell from the carcass at its convenience. It seemed rather eager to do so too, at that.

“Well, I guess I can only take the pelt back with me.” He definitely needed to bring the oddly-shaped horn back as proof of his success and that was no small amount of baggage to carry by itself. So, unfortunate though it was, he knew apart from what he would eat, he had to leave the rest of it behind. "Bones—those would work for proof too, but no, too heavy. Meat, it seems like I have to discard them all..."

Suddenly, he became aware of something rubbing against his trousers. As he looked down, he was chagrined to see Lunie stuffing a face full of blood and entrails into the bottom of his pants—its unique way of saying ‘More, please’. Well, nothing to be done about that. With a sigh, Tigre hefted his dagger, slicing off a few more pieces of meat for the hungry whelp.

By the time he actually finished the whole process, the sun had already reached its zenith. The removal of the horns had taken a large amount of time due to their size. He tied the pelt, still ringed with residual flesh and fats, with a rope of hemp, and put it into a backpack. Afterward, he washed his hands using the water in his canteen and got to starting a campfire. That done, he dug a trench, into which he dumped and buried the arbitrarily sized remains of the carcass.

While he was doing all this, Lunie, having eaten its fill, was lying asleep beside the campfire.

Half a year ago, when the breath of spring had only just begun its reign, Tigre had come to LeitMeritz. There, a chill wind still blew upon the plains, as a sign of Zhcted’s late-come springtime when compared to his homeland Brune.

He had waited for the mountains of LeitMeritz to thaw before trekking across them, hoping to see with his own eyes the land he now lived in, to feel with his hands and feet its depths and heights—or so he claimed; in actuality all he simply wanted was to experience to the fullest the thrills of hunting in unknown terrain.

Interestingly, for all they had interacted during his time as a captive in the court, or even later as a guest commander, he had never once enjoyed Lunie’s favor. Rather, that honor was given by the dragon to his servant-girl, Teita. Yet it insisted on being by his side when he went hunting. It would even sit on the horse that Tigre rode on when he went hunting, insisting that it be brought along regardless.

And how did the silver-haired Vanadis who was the whelp’s master reply when asked for her opinion on this strange turn of affairs?

“This fellow is probably bored to tears from being cooped up in a world of stone walls, so if you would be willing to bring him along...”

She even tacked a joke onto the request. “Don’t go returning to the wild now...”

Though he was unwilling, it was impossible to refuse her. Not when she looked upon the dragon she petted with an expression of both affection and regret at her inability to satisfy its desire to fly freely in the skies. She wasn’t all that different from the dragon, Tigre realized. She too was a person who could not live and do as she pleased.

In any case, he had the excuse of studying the geography of LeitMeritz. Of course, he wasn’t just there to hunt. So he had ended up bringing Lunie along anyway. And it had exceeded all his expectations—well, at least his expectations for a companion in battle anyway, like during this buck hunt. The rest of the time, it did not display any such attitude. In fact, Tigre fully expected that it would start treating him akin to a roadside pebble once they got off this mountain.

A regrettable situation. But despite his disappointment, Tigre made no move to improve their working relationship. After all, this wasn’t a human he was dealing with. Lunie may still be but a stripling, but it was still a dragon.

---''I can’t understand for the life of me why it follows me at all. Maybe for now I should keep my distance.''

Tigre thought as he watched the dragon snoozing by the fireside.

And as he continued to keep watch, well fed on a meal of venison, his thoughts turned to the events that led up to the present day.

He was born as the heir to Earl Vorn of Alsace in the northwest of Brune. He had inherited the title at the tender age of 14 when his father succumbed to illness and with it, the stigma of being of the lowest rank of nobles in the land.

But his life would change on a battlefield at summer’s end.

At Dinant, the nations of Zhcted and Brune had clashed over the right to control the stream along the borders, and Brune had been defeated. Tigre had led a hundred men in that battle, and there he had encountered the commander-in-chief of Zhcted’s forces—silver haired Eleanora Viltaria, whom they called [{{furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}] and [{{furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}], one of the Seven Vanadis.

His attempt to assassinate her had failed, but Ellen was taken by his skill with the bow and took him as a captive.

In the aftermath of the battle, the rivalry between Dukes Ganelon and Thenardier—the two foremost nobles of Brune—came to a head, and Alsace was swept up by the wave of turmoil into the fires of war. Upon hearing this news from his father’s loyal servant Batran, Tigre borrowed soldiers from Ellen to save the place of his birth, eventually avenging himself upon Thenardier after a great many battles to the death.

And yet even after all this, there was no happy conclusion. He had only achieved a brief time of peace, and he would have remained Ellen’s captive if not for the new ruler of Brune, the king’s daughter Regin, having helped to intercede on his behalf. Under the terms negotiated, he was to be returned to his homeland after spending three years as a guest commandant in Zhcted. That was the best that could be done for now. And so with the promise that he would return to them in three year’s time, Tigre bid farewell to the people of Brune and crossed the border into Zhcted, with his only companion being his maid Teita.

===Part 2===

Half a year had passed since that day. The tardy spring had gone swiftly by, and now even the summer would soon pass. Indeed, the brief nature of Zhcted’s summer compared to Brune’s was enough to leave an impression in and of itself.

His life in LeitMeritz so far had not been easy. One half of that he’d expected and the other of it he’d experienced. He had to learn how to speak, write, and to immerse himself in the local culture.

There was also no shortage of important personages from Zhcted who wished to meet with him. And though most of these chose to send emissaries rather than come in person, Tigre knew that establishing good relations with them was a necessity. In any case, failure was not an option; any failing on his part would smear the name of Ellen, who had given him a place to stay, and he couldn’t rightly allow that to happen.

Adding to his litany of woes were the almost daily assignments left to him by Ellen’s second-in-command Limlisha. The topics were of a grand scale, ranging from governance to military affairs—under governance, the subject could be anything between internal governance and multilateral relations.

She would also enlist his aid in her work often. This was cause for some complaint on his part. But he went along with it anyway. For one thing, the knowledge he gained while accompanying her would be useful in developing Alsace upon his return.

And for another, she wasn’t all work and no play. Under the guise of ‘inspections’ or ‘reviews’, she would sometimes allow him some free time to roam.

At last, dawn broke.

Smothering the fire with mud, Tigre shouldered his backpack and set out. Antlers in his right hand, bow in his left, and Lunie tagging alongside him, trademark *Patata* resounding as it flew. They reached the village in the foothills by the afternoon. There they presented the antler and pelt to much rejoicing and many eased minds among the villagers. However, among those who had been counted with the hunters there were many wide eyes.

“So he really managed to bring it down, eh...” The village chief, who had been responsible for leading the hunters, had only this to say.

He had gone into the mountains three mornings ago, alone. Having turned down the offer that the villagers made to have their hunters serve as his guides.

“For a hunt like this, I alone will be enough.” He’d said that even as he gazed up at the foothills from the village. “And with more people we run a greater risk of the buck getting wind of us, whether it be by sight or sound.”

It wasn’t arrogance, of course. And besides, he had subsequently grilled both the chief and the hunters for detailed information concerning the mountain.

Seeing this, the village chief had mixed feelings. On one hand he thought it was to be expected of a knight of the court. And yet on the other, he felt that the boy was only 17. Could he really be relied upon?

But Tigre had surpassed all their expectations, setting out alone and returning triumphant, having shot the beast down brilliantly.

He had succeeded where a group of six—including the chief himself—had failed throughout their five day long hunt. And he did not waste his breath on swaggering or on boasts of his ability.

Rather, Tigre just asked for a bed he could borrow for the night, which the chief obliged. He turned in rather early too.

When Tigre rose the next morning, the sky was still dark. It was a tad early for ‘morning’—even those whose farms were their livelihood had barely gotten out their beds.

“I’m sorry to wake you at this hour,” he said as he called the village chief forth from dreamland before informing him of his decision to leave.

The chief seemed shocked, and even a little disappointed. “If it is convenient for you, sir knight, please do tarry another day in our good village. We will prepare a feast for you as much as we may with our meager means.”

He asked once again. However, soon after expressing both gratitude and pushing a gentle refusal, Tigre quietly left the village and went on his way. The horse galloped along the path under a brightening sky, though it wasn’t very fast with both Tigre and Lunie sitting on it.

“What a waste...” Tigre mumbled to himself as he gazed heavenward. “...It’s not like I had anything urgent to do anyway.”

He was, of course, bemoaning the missed opportunity in the village chief’s offer. If this was Alsace, he might just have taken the proffered boon, but here he had Ellen to consider. She might have been alright with it, but she did not speak for all her subordinates. Particularly for those who already held a certain dislike for Tigre himself.

He couldn’t care less if they criticized him, but he would not allow them to do the same to Ellen.

===Part 3===

The sun was already falling into the west when they arrived at the capitol. They rode in via a side road constructed for the exclusive use of those in official service—with Lunie around the two of them would have made a sight for sore eyes in the crowded main streets of the city.

“Tigre-sama!” Just as they passed the gates, a familiar voice reached their ears, calling the youth’s name. It was Teita, chestnut hair tied behind her head, running towards them. She dressed after her usual fashion, long-sleeved one-piece dress falling into black folds below her legs and a clean white apron over it. Notably, she had discarded her old twin-tailed hairstyle for a single ponytail, which Tigre believed looked well on her too.

Of their immediate reactions, Lunie’s was the greater. It took to the air with a *Patata* and flew into her arms. Tigre merely exchanged smiles with her.

“I’m home, Teita.”

Upon catching Lunie, she held it close and it snuggled in her embrace. While doing so, she walked over to the youth.

“Welcome home, Tigre-sama.”

“Are you alright? You don’t have to carry it like that if it’s too heavy, you know?”

“Thank you. But Lunie’s not as heavy as it appears. I might get my clothes dirty though.” So she said, but if she was distressed, it did not show. Instead, like a mother beguiling a child, she petted the little dragon whelp.

This sixteen-year old girl, who like him was born in Alsace, had served him in the capacity of a maidservant since she was 11 till today, and even when he was set to live in LeitMeritz, she had insisted on following him.

This had been his wish as well, and Ellen had acquiesced. Nonetheless, he had worried at first that she, whom he treated like a sister, might not be able to adapt to the new environment. She had rendered his concerns moot, however, breaking the ice easily with the ladies of the court and their maids. Indeed, naught but a few days had passed before they all loved her.

Upon hearing this, Ellen had grimaced before saying thus.

“You’re quite something yourself, but it seems Teita hasn’t fallen behind. Quite the unexpected catch, isn’t she?” These words relieved Tigre greatly.

“Oh, yes. Tigre-sama, the Lady Eleanora and Miss Limlisha have important matters to discuss with you.”

“Important matters? With me?”

“Indeed. Lady Ellen instructed me to inform you of this upon your return.”

Upon hearing Teita recall her previous conversation with the Vanadis and her second, Tigre set his head askew in thought as he dismounted. It was all very odd. He had just returned, and had yet to greet anyone yet. Moreover, he was required to report to Ellen anyway.

Therefore, it must have been something of extraordinary importance, for her to have left him such specific instructions.

“Are they going to remind you not to take so many detours?” Teita asked.

Naturally, she did not say this in earnest. Those mischievous words were only meant to lighten his mood, Tigre guessed as he patted the younger girl on the head.

“Hmmm. That’s possible...” He did after all have a history of chatting Rurick up in the halls for too long while en route to the administration office. This habit which had earned him many a stern earful from Lim, and at times some nattering from the officials who disliked him whenever they could catch him. “In any case, I’ll head up there. Thank you, Teita.”

After handing both horse and dragon over to her, he headed up to the administration office. In the dying light of day, the corridors were dim, lit only by the flames of pinewood torches. But Ellen would be in there at this hour, he knew. He walked up to the door and knocked lightly, calling out as he did so. Sure enough, a moment later a ‘come in’ could be heard.

Opening the door, Tigre’s eyes were met by a familiar scenery. A modestly-sized room, a table of black sandalwood piled high with a veritable mountain of books, and two ladies attending to the paperwork.

The first of them sported waist-length silver hair and a blue-based silk dress. Her crimson eyes burned with vigor, and against a wall close within reach, she laid a longsword by. She was so fair of face, it was hard to imagine her as a skilled sword maiden capable of holding any man at bay. Yet she was and more. She was the administrator of this capitol, ruler of LeitMeritz and one of the seven Vanadis of Zhcted, seventeen year-old Eleanora Viltaria.

The other was golden-haired Limlisha—Lim, as both he and Ellen would normally address her—, Ellen’s second-in-command and confidante. Tall, twenty and well-endowed, her look of detached stoicism as she silently perused the documents before her was quite the opposite of Ellen’s.

“Looks like you made it back safely.”

After looking him up and down for a moment, Ellen’s expression relaxed visibly, and Lim greeted him with an upward quirk of her lips.

“I’m back indeed,” Tigre noted, before closing the door and pulling a chair over to sit on.

Ellen’s eyes glittered. “And how did the deal with the buck go?”

He gave a simple explanation of what had transpired in the village and on the mountain while Lim prepared wine for three. Naturally, the whole request had been their doing; Ellen had dispatched him to deal with the problem after the village had informed them of its plight.

Stopping the work in their hands, the three offered up a small toast in celebration of this success, and after having finished his explanation, Tigre switched topics.

“So I hear from Teita that you have important affairs to discuss with me.” At this, the two ladies exchanged glances, and Ellen dipped her gaze to the cup in her hands, as though considering her reply. A moment later, she lifted her eyes once again.

“Tigre. Have you heard of Asvarre?”

The sudden question came as a surprise, but Tigre recovered quickly. “It’s situated northwest of Brune, across the western sea of Zhcted, I think. It’s best known for its agriculture-based economy, but a few generations ago, they had a queen who led many campaigns of expansion into the continent.”

In actuality, the number of things he knew for sure about Asvarre could be counted off on one hand, and all that, he had learnt from Mashas. But being in the northeast, Alsace had no stake in that country. So for all he knew of Asvarre, it could be a fairy tale land—only the story of the conquering queen had made any lasting impression on him.

Once again, the two women exchanged looks. But these were looks of unease.

Draining her cup, Ellen spoke. “A certain someone has requested your presence in Asvarre.”

At this Tigre furrowed his brow. He did so not so much in surprise as he had in consternation. Judging from her tone, this request must be awfully hard to refuse. And there were only so many people in this world who could cause a Vanadis apprehension of this level. “And who might that be?”

“His majesty, the King,” Lim replied coolly.

Tigre’s eyes widened.

Victor, King of Zhcted. He had met the man once, when he was living in Zhcted following the conclusion of Brune’s civil strife. It was a formality that no official guest could avoid, especially not one staying for 3 years in the country, and in any case, he had heard from Ellen that the king desired to see him.

But for all that was worth the audience itself was frightfully short. The king had merely saw fit to praise his talents, and assure him that he would be given full freedom in Zhcted—with that, their meeting had come to an abrupt end.

Within that brief time, he had indeed felt the oppressive stateliness and authority emanating from the man on the throne. But what had struck him most profoundly had been the man’s eyes. Victor’s eyes were tranquil, yet cold and subdued. It made one think of the inmost depths of a dark forest, bereft of sunlight for a hundred years; like a deep bog without breath or sound of life.

But such thoughts about the monarch of a nation could not be shared with anyone, and so Tigre hid them, buried them deep in his heart.

Honestly, he didn’t make a good impression, Tigre thought. ‘An enigmatic old man’ was the most honest summary he could give on his thoughts concerning that man.

And now this person was ordering him to go to Asvarre.

“So what does he want me to do there?”

“Essentially, he wants you to serve as a secret envoy.”

At this point, Ellen put her cup down and folded her arms, a distressed look on her face.

“Tigre. What do you know about Asvarre’s situation, really?”

“Well, that there’s people in it, and they sing, dance and hunt all day long?”

“Indeed, and they slaughter their own people with axe and sword while they’re at it too.” He’d actually expected this, but still it seemed there was no chance that this would be a comfortable topic.

Lim put her still unfinished cup on the table, and then proceeded to retrieve a piece of parchment from a drawer beneath the table.

“...I suppose I’ve never really told you about Asvarre either, Tigre. I’ll try to make this brief.”

“Please do, sensei.” Tigre said mischievously.

Ellen laughed. “Yes, please do, sensei.”

With a sigh, Lim turned to the parchment and began to draw a simple map. “Now, until half a year ago, King Zechariah was still on the throne of Asvarre. At that time, there was intelligence to suggest that he planned to invade Brune, but due to his own poor health, he ultimately decided to sit back for a while and observe the situation.”

Tigre’s breath caught in his throat. He had underestimated till now just how much Brune had been like a sheep thrown among wolves during those times of turmoil half a year ago. True, Sachstein was repulsed by Roland, and he himself had driven Muozinel back. But if Asvarre had invaded from the west at that time...heaven only knew what would have happened then.

“A short time after the civil war in Brune ended,” Lim continued, “King Zechariah breathed his last. I can’t really say how exactly he died. Some say he died in an accident, others say he died of food poisoning.”

Now, the King of Asvarre had six children. His eldest, Jermaine, was to ascend the throne.
And that was where the madness began.

“A few days before the coronation ceremony, Jermaine called his siblings together and had them executed on counts of treason.”

“Heh, or so we heard afterward,” Ellen added drily, supplementing Lim’s lecture with her own comments. “It seems Jermaine is quite the arrogant character, and paranoid as well. I guess he hid his true colors while his father still lived, but with the throne in sight he must have decided to take action.”

This subject was repugnant to Tigre, but he nodded for Lim to continue anyway.

“However, two of the king’s children escaped Jermaine’s grasp—the second prince, Elliot, and the first princess, Guinevere.”

The larger part of the details that Lim mentioned afterward could be summarized as such: After making his way to safety, Elliot had begun a revolt against his brother. Despite the succession having been the king’s will, there were many among the nobility who had opposed Jermaine’s kin-slaying, and the revolt had been a success. Jermaine was forced to abandon the palace and flee.

“So now Asvarre is split into two—” Lim broke off as she concluded, “no, perhaps you could say three parts. Jermaine has hired mercenaries from Sachstein to bolster his own forces, while Elliot has done much the same by bringing the pirates of the coast into his ranks. Asvarre is in a state of chaos.”

“What about the princess Guinevere?” It was strange that she was not mentioned, so he asked.

“Rumors say that she is indifferent to either side, and has retired to a more quiet life. Most likely, she will not make any moves until the conflict between her brothers has been settled,” Lim said.

“And till now Zhcted has been supporting Elliot,” Ellen added.

“Oh yes. There’s that,” Lim said. “Okay, let’s stop talking about Asvarre for now.” With that, she produced another parchment, and began drawing up a map of the continent. Zhcted in the center, Asvarre west of the sea, Muozinel to the south on land and Brune to the southwest.

“Tigrevurmund.” Lim’s voice was scholarly and stern, like a teacher asking a question of her pupil. That meant that if he answered wrong, he was sure to be reprimanded. “Who, in your opinion, is the greatest threat to Zhcted at this time?”

“Muozinel, I suppose.”

“Correct.” Lim confirmed, unsmiling, as though this answer was a given.

“So you see, the situation in Asvarre is as we stated before. And in Brune, the scars left by the civil war have yet to heal. At best, it would take two or three years for it to make a full comeback.”

Needless to say, the next major factor was Muozinel. Even though they had been beaten back during their assault on Brune six months ago, in reality, only their navy had been dealt any significant casualties. Their land army—footsoldiers and cavalry both—had withdrawn before a decisive battle could be fought, as such minimizing their losses.

Muozinel now had an axe to grind against Zhcted as well—Tigre had the help of Zhcted troops in his rout of their advance army. Moreover, currently, Zhcted held Agnes, originally part of Brune, as their own territory, thus forming a strip of land belonging to Zhcted that Muozinel had to pass through first before it could attack. As such, Muozinel could only attack via sea, and that was impossible with their damaged navy: it could hardly even defend against an enemy attack as it was, let alone launch an invasion. So they could only sit on their hands and watch Brune recover.

“Sooner or later, we and Muozinel will surely clash. But when that will happen, no one knows. It could be three, even ten years from now.”

So saying, Ellen gazed at the wall behind her and the two flags that adorned it.

A silver sword upon black, for LeitMeritz, and for Zhcted the black dragon.

“The balance of power hangs on Asvarre’s decision—whether to join hands with Muozinel, or with us.”

Upon hearing Ellen’s words, Tigre at last understood. If Asvarre were to align itself with Zhcted, then the latter could concentrate all its energy on Muozinel. But if Asvarre were to make Muozinel its ally instead, then Zhcted would be beleaguered from both the south and the west, and it would have to divide its forces to tackle such a dire situation.

“As we were saying before, we would have preferred Elliot, but it seems he personally leans towards Muozinel. As such we shall have to support Jermaine instead.”

“So, this secret envoy you speak of...” Tigre trailed off.

Ellen looked distinctly apologetic. Seeing her struggle to reply, Lim stood in for the silver-haired Vanadis. “Tigrevurmund. I believe we had said before that this is the King’s request, not that of Lady Eleanora.”

“I know. There is no way Ellen would ask something like this of me.” He answered decisively to reassure them. It worked. Almost immediately the tension in the room decreased several fold. Both women loosed smiles, and Ellen heaved a sigh of relief while still hanging her head in apology.

“I’m sorry, Tigre.”

“You needn’t be, Ellen,” Tigre said. “More importantly, what does King Victor hope to achieve by sending me?” He didn’t know the foggiest about Asvarre. He hadn’t even been there. Ever. The king’s intentions were unfathomable in this regard.

“From a certain point of view you could say he wants to recruit you,” Ellen noted while passing her now empty cup back to Lim. “It’s basically selling favors, giving you honor and glory in exchange for your services. Isn’t that practice quite common in Brune as well?”

Tigre set his head askew—he still could not accept this. “But I am not King Victor’s subject, I am a citizen of Brune, a guest who will return to Brune in 3 years time, no?”

“And that’s precisely why he wants you. Think about it—do you really expect to live off the fat of the land once you get back after 3 years? If it were up to me, I’d make you a military advisor. That way you wouldn’t ever leave the palace even after a few years.”

Upon hearing Ellen speak so solemnly, Tigre could only contemplate in silence. It was true, for he was undeniably a person of meritorious deeds.

“Having received the title of [{{furigana|Star Shooter|Silvrash|}}] and [{{furigana|Knight of the Moonlight|Lumiere}}] from an enemy general and your own king respectively, you are someone who will definitely be in an important position once you get home. So as far as the King of Zhcted is concerned, selling you favors is the right thing to do.” Lim added coolly after pouring Ellen some more wine.

For her part, the Vanadis pulled open a drawer on her own desk, and from there retrieved a letter, two rings and a sleek tube.

The tube was half an arm long, and covered by a dark black cloth. On its cap, the seal of the King of Zhcted was engraved and inlaid in gold.

“This contains a secret message to Prince Jermaine, and the rings will be proof of your identity as the King’s envoy. But what I really want to show you is this—the king’s letter.” Taking the letter, Tigre read it carefully. The words of a king could not be ignored, not a single one.

It started with the normal salutations, with the King giving some praise for his gallantry in Brune and celebrating the newly forged peace between Brune and Zhcted before diving straight into the main topic.

—You are proof of the strong ties between Zhcted and Brune, and thus able to represent both nations before the Prince Jermaine. No one is more suited than you are to accomplish this task.

Written below are instructions as to how far we are willing support the prince in terms of finances and in the sending of troops, as well as the duration for which we shall do so. There are contingencies should extenuating circumstances force you to deviate from the initial plan, but you should return immediately should the situation go too far out of hand.—

So, Tigre mused. He wants to use me as a bargaining chip then.

At the end of the letter, there were instructions as to how he should enter Asvarre. He would travel from LeitMeritz to Regnis, and then from there he would rendezvous with some men the King sent before setting out together for Asvarre. He was flabbergasted at the sheer amount of detail the letter went into. It even mentioned what street he should be travelling by.

Suggesting that both Zhcted and Brune were in support of Prince Jermaine—quite clever of the King, really, Tigre thought.

Still. He glanced up from the letter and gave Ellen a look of unease. “Was Brune told of this?”

Ellen shook her head. “I doubt it.”

Lim nodded in agreement. “If it were so, Queen Regin would have passed the orders down to you herself, Tigrevurmund.”

She was right. In the end he was still a guest commandant, and not under any obligation to obey King Victor. Even the letter itself closed with these words—

“I, the King of Zhcted, earnestly ask of you—”

—meaning that this was no order, but a request.

And yet he could no so flippantly refuse. It was a request from a king, after all.

“...Aside from me, is there no one else who can take on this task?”

“Zhcted doesn’t lack for such people. But to the king, he couldn’t claim to be doing you a favor without at least asking you to do this much.”

Tigre tried to contemplate this for a few seconds, and then gave up, shrugging. Immediately, Lim scolded him in a low voice, and then proceeded to explain.

“You see, something like rooting out mountain bandits wouldn’t be adding any additional feathers to your cap. Your role in the Brune civil war has already demonstrated your bravery, and therefore your worth, enough.”

“There are other ways of winning honor, yes, but these would mostly involve you becoming a counsellor to the king. And that would put you in a precarious position—most of our nobles would oppose the idea of Brune interfering in affairs of governance, and it would undermine the king’s authority. So a diplomatic assignment would be the best option.” Ellen sighed.

It was true, Tigre knew. The advantages of sending him were exactly as King Victor had stated—and in those regards no one in Zhcted could compete with him.

“...And that’s how it is. Assuming that the King bears you no ill-will in the first place.” Ellen griped, leaning back in her chair.

Her casual posture relieved the young archer greatly, and he smiled. “I don’t remember ever doing anything to incur his ill-will.”

“If a country has a skilled general, do you not think that his very presence will cause the surrounding nations to be on their guard?” Lim noted coolly, remaining upright and altogether serious despite them. “In our country, there are many people who are displeased by your presence, Tigrevurmund...although I am not saying the king is one of these.”

“But the negotiations are important to Zhcted. Failure would be disastrous—so why would he give the task to me if he has enmity towards me?”

Ellen furrowed her brows as she spoke, her displeasure plain to see.“Well, since there is a contingency in place you will most likely be held responsible for any failure.”

“Of course, success would be still be best, but if you were to fail, getting rid of you would eliminate some future concerns. Depending on the situation, the blame could also be shifted onto Brune.” At this, Ellen swung back upright with a *BANG*, ignoring Lim, who cocked an eyebrow at her. “Actually, don’t you find it all very strange? If I were in the king’s place, I would throw you a banquet with someone else as the host, and make my request while the host distracts the rest of the guests.”

That was true. Tigre thought. He and the King had only met once—they weren’t friends by any means. There should have at least been some sort of party thrown to improve their relationship.

“It would only take a simple check to know that you’ve never been to Asvarre. Sending you there is like asking a child who doesn’t know left from right to go to a neighbouring village to buy something. And then there’s the men the king sent. We have no details on them. The whole thing practically screams ‘this is suspicious’!”

Indeed, it was getting quite hard to think that the king had given him this job for his ability.

“But King Victor has yet to reveal what he thinks of me, correct?” Tigre asked cautiously.

Both Lim and Ellen nodded.

“I can only think of 3 reasons why this was assigned to you. One would be to do you a favor by letting you take the honor of being a diplomat. The other might be to destroy you by putting you in a situation where you would be helpless. And the last would be to gauge your abilities.”

“Gauging my abilities?”

Ellen held up a hand. “In short, he wants to know if you are merely a person who is skilled in warfare, or if you have other skills besides. I still can’t tell if he wants you on his side, or if he wants to destroy you. But whatever it is, he definitely wants to use you.”

The silver-haired young woman chuckled a little, causing Tigre to grouse silently. None of the three options was anything to be glad about.

“And if he has any other design,” Ellen noted in a low, more serious tone, “it’s most likely to use your actions to see how the Vanadis—myself included—and the Queen of Brune will act.”

“Ellen, what should I—”

“Tigrevurmund,” Lim said in a stern voice, cutting him off. “Do not ask that of us.”

Ellen shook her head bitterly. “No matter what your decision is, I will respect it and do my utmost to help you. But it is you who must make the decision, Tigre.”

“I’m sorry.”

He could refuse. But that would lower the king’s opinion of him, and it would also affect Ellen and Brune. Turning to the map, Tigre thought about what was just said. He did not like Prince Jermaine, whom Zhcted was planning to support. And yet if his rival Elliot were to ascend to the throne, his alliance with Muozinel would threaten both Zhcted and Brune, for Brune and Asvarre shared a border.

And then there was the alliance with Zhcted to think about.

For the sake of our countries, must I support a foreign tyrant?

By virtue of lending support to Jermaine, it might be possible to request that he mend his ways. But he was not the King of Zhcted, Tigre knew. His words would most likely have no significant impact.

But he had to move past that. Sighing, he asked another question. “What sort of person is Prince Elliot, then?”

“Rumor has it that he’s not all that different from his brother. But at least he didn’t kill his whole family.”

“But previously you said that he roped pirates into his army to make up for his lack of numbers. Doesn’t that mean the army is no more than a band of thieves?”

King Victor must really want me to disappear, asking me to go into such a place alone.

“Will you refuse, then?”

“Might as well go. It might be a good opportunity to visit Asvarre anyway.” He meant this in earnest, but more because he did not wish to further burden the similarly-aged Vanadis. “But isn’t this a rather roundabout method? Asking me to be a secret envoy, and yet openly supporting Prince Elliot at the same time?”

“Playing both sides isn’t an uncommon tactic. Ludmira was like that that during the last war.” Ellen said.

“What?” Tigre asked, not comprehending her intent. “I thought Mira was a more straightforward person than that.”

Mira of course referred to Ludmira Lurie, [{{furigana|Snow Princess of the Frozen Wave|Michelia}}] of the seven Vanadis and the governor of Olmutz, a province to the south of LeitMeritz.

“You forget that she was Duke Thenardier’s ally at first, which was why she led troops to constrain us. In addition, she continued her pursuit even when we offered to retreat. In order to fulfill her obligations to the duke, she even fought a duel with me.” Ellen’s eyebrows arched in annoyance as she said this, but Tigre could not tell if it was his casual mention of Ludmira’s nickname, or general displeasure at his reply that caused her to act this way.

“But she protected Eleanora-sama from the assassin’s blade that time, even going so far as to risk her own life.” Lim pointed out stoically.

“W-Well, that was just her trying to make me owe her a favor!” Ellen blustered, her expression that of one caught off-guard. “Even if she didn’t think about it that way at the time, when the need arises, she will definitely find an excuse to bring it up!”

“It’s only natural to do that in negotiations,” Lim reminded.

Ellen ignored her, instead turning to Tigre. “And there was that battle against Muozinel. She didn’t come to help you right away, did she? She held off to observe, right? That’s not helping you, that was just her waiting for the moment where she could make you most indebted to her. And she only severed ties with Thenardier after that incident, don’t you forget!”

With that, she downed her cup of wine with much gusto.

Tigre for his part understood. This Machiavellian aspect to Ludmira’s character was probably so deeply ingrained that she did not think any worse of herself despite it. Still, given that she had been forced into a conflict due to her rival’s character, it was not surprising that Ellen would be so angry.

If it was Mira, how would she respond to this request?

During his time at LeitMeritz, Ludmira Lurie had paid three visits to the capitol, and she came for three reasons. Firstly, to inquire about the state of the mountain road in Vosyes and Brune in general; secondly, to make a show of being on excellent terms with Ellen. Lastly, she came to prevail upon Tigre to join her.

Every time Ellen received a report of her arrival, she would say ‘tell her not to come again’. But who would dare say that to a Vanadis? And in any case she was half joking. They needed the information that Ludmira regularly brought them concerning Muozinel, and a petty rivalry was no reason to hinder important exchanges of intelligence.

Following her meetings with Ellen she would go looking for Tigre. The first time, she attempted to use the promise of money to win him over, and failed. From then on, she would simply come to make small talk. She did try to invite him on a hunt, but Ellen had turned her down.

If it were her, she would hint at agreeing while avoiding giving a direct answer, all the while gathering intelligence as best she could in the background. And when the critical moment came she would refuse decisively.

Perhaps this is only the first of more difficult requests to come.

He still didn’t like the given task, but he could see it for its uses. And in any case, his complaints were best kept to himself.

===Part 4===

After staring at the door, Tigre had closed in his exit for a while, Ellen let out a sigh.

“Is this really alright?” Lim asked.

“We don’t have a choice, do we?” Ellen replied brusquely.

She’d agreed to let him go to Asvarre after their meeting. It was an odd thing—actually, she had been prepared to give way should he refuse adamantly, but as it turned out, he gave an unexpectedly decisive answer. She should have been glad about that, but her heart still felt heavy. Unwilling.

“I’m sorry about just now, Lim,” Ellen said with an apologetic smile. ‘Just now’ naturally referred to the point when Lim had butted in to stop Tigre from asking for her help in deciding. “I...probably wouldn’t have been able to answer him.”

In her heart of hearts, she wanted to say ‘don’t go’. But to deny the king’s request, they needed a viable alternative. Another way to foster closer ties between Zhcted and Asvarre. Or even someone to replace Tigre. But there was no such option. With regards to the king’s requirements there was none better than him, and she would be hard pressed to find such a substitute.

During Brune’s civil war, she was able to mollify the king by claiming that she had no choice but to do battle. And it had been a sweet deal overall. Brune footed much of the war bill, Zhcted had gained Agnes in the south, and Ellen had gained Tigre’s services through her co-ruling of Alsace.

This time, she had no such cards to play—without such, even a Vanadis must obey her king.

So despite herself, she could not tell him to stay. Supporting him was the only thing she could do now.

Turning her face to the window, Ellen gazed out at the scenery. The slow breeze of late summer blew across a land where the descent of darkness was nigh complete, with only a little sun peeked out from beyond the western horizon. The stars too, though she could not see them, must have already come out.

“When he came, the snowdrops were still in bloom...”

Snowdrops grew everywhere in Zhcted, and they were the herald of springtime. But spring had passed them by in a hurry. She spent hers governing, and he spent his getting accustomed to the land. And now, even summer was drawing to a close.

With a sigh, Ellen shook her head vigorously. Clearing her mind, she turned back to Lim once more, with a smile on her face. “Well, since he has decided to go, we should pave the way for him. I’ll be counting on you, Lim. This is the king’s request, so people can’t speak ill of it anyway.”

“Yes.” Lim flashed a rare smile, her voice ringing clearer than usual. But it seemed some anxiety came upon her, and cast a shadow over her turquoise eyes. “Yet there is still much to worry about. Becoming a secret envoy to an unknown country, with only one other person following...”

“Let us trust him,” Ellen said brightly, her words and eyes brimming with confidence. “He has shown us many miracles during this year we spent together. Yes, you could call it luck, but without the skill to use such good-fortune there would have been no miracles, and he has that sort of ability.”

That was exaggerating somewhat, but that was because she too felt uneasy. She could not help but worry. Indeed, perhaps she had even wished for him to refuse back then.

“He will return successful. We will send him off smiling, and we will receive him with that same smile. We can do that much, even if we can neither officially celebrate his designation as envoy due to its secret nature, nor reward him easily due to his status as a citizen of Brune.”

“Indeed.” Lim said, glad that her master had erased her worries.

With that they returned to their duties. But as Ellen sorted through the papers, a sudden thought came to her.

I wonder, has the distance between him and I lessened any?

Though she was busy most of the day, and Tigre was under constant scrutiny by the court officials, they still spent their free time together often. When the weather was good they would take afternoon naps on the roof, sometimes even sneaking out the palace under the noses of Lim and the other officials to roam the city streets. During official breaks, they would have tea and refreshments with Lim and Teita. These were all small, but important memories.

We even danced together in the city once.

In the tradition of Zhcted, such festivals always began with everyone singing and dancing together, and only later would couples form and dance alone. Apparently, this had originally been a way for men to choose their brides, but that custom had long been phased out, leaving behind only that fragment of knowledge and the form of the dance itself.

When they had found out about the origins of the practice, they had both gone red in the face, but did not stop holding hands as they departed. (Of course, no one else knew, for both of them were too embarrassed to speak of it.)

They never crossed the line, each having understood the other’s position. But the silver-haired Vanadis recalled those memories of their daily lives together, and she felt her heart grow warmer.

===Part 5===

Tigre’s room was somewhere in the bowels of the palace. Here, unlike outside where the employees of the palace still milled about even after sunset, there was relative peace. This had been one of Ellen’s considerations, for as a guest, he drew significantly more attention than when he had been a captive.

It was not a particularly luxurious place, but the deep green carpet, brick fireplace and an oak table-and-chair set gave it a relaxing atmosphere. There was no lack of necessities either; in the corner there was a cabinet draped with grapevine as well as a long table.

Upon entry, Tigre lit the lamp by the doorway, and hit the bell on the table.

Before long, footsteps approached the door. Teita’s footsteps.

“Tigre-sama, may I enter?”

“You needn’t be so uptight, I’m the only one here,” Tigre replied in a gentle tone.

The door opened, the chestnut-haired maid entering with a curtsy before lifting her head and sticking her tongue out at him. “I’m used to it already. And besides, I’m away from home.”

Back in Alsace, they had been even less formal with one another. Tigre favored shouting across the hallway to ringing a bell anytime, and Teita, for her part, would inquire clearly as to his requirements before entering, sparing them a lot of hassle. But this was not Alsace, and there were many officials here who disliked him for being so close to the likes of Ellen, Lim and Rurick. In front of such people, they had to pay more attention to such formalities.

“So,” Teita asked after receiving Tigre’s outer coat, “have you finished speaking to Lady Eleanora on the matter?”

A dark look crept over his face. “Do you have some time, Teita? I have some things I need to tell you concerning that.”

She nodded, perplexed.

Seeing that, Tigre walked over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of wine and a pair of wine glasses. This would be worrying to her, he knew, but nonetheless, he wanted her to know the truth.

After having her take a seat, he poured the wine. First for her, then for himself.

He downed a mouthful.

And then made his announcement.

“I need to go out for a time. I’ll be counting on you to take care of this place.”

Her eyes shot open, staring into the depths of the glass before her, the crimson fluids reflected her depression.

“This isn’t a hunt, is it?”

She was right. If this was a hunt or just some inspection in a nearby city, he would have spoken differently. He had done his best to sound calm, but there was no way he could completely hide the anxiety of stepping into unknown territory. Not from Teita, who had been serving him for so long.

So he didn’t bother playing dumb, merely lowering his gaze to meet hers.

“I know you won’t say unnecessary things to others. So I need you to keep a secret for me.”

After confirming her assent, he told her of the trip to Asvarre.

“I can’t tell you the details, but this a very troublesome matter. While I’m gone, you will tell anyone who asks that I have gone to Silesia,” Tigre said. “And...oh yes. Take care of Lunie while I’m out.”

“I understand the part about Lunie. But ‘to the capitol’?” Teita shook her head, uncomprehending.

“Don’t worry, Lim and Ellen are the ones cooking up the cover story. You just need to tally your account to theirs,” he assured her. “I did think of claiming illness to avoid meeting people, though.”

“That wouldn’t have been like you at all, Tigre-sama. I mean, those aren’t the sort of words a person who would go out during deep winter in furs to hunt would say. And I don’t think I could fool everyone like that,” she said, displaying her resolve in an ironic sort of way, to which he could only scratch his head, at a loss.

Seeing this, she smiled. “Tigre-sama. How far away is this Asvarre?”

“I don’t know. It’s my first time going there too. All I know is that I need to go northwest from here, and then head there by ship.”

“Ship. Sea,” Teita muttered, her eyes wide. Neither of them had ever even seen anything like those. The closest they had come was in images stirred up by the songs of a wandering troubadour, or from the stories of travelling artists who had been as far as Celeste, a town in Asvarre.

She bit her lip, her fists tightening about her apron as she tried to restrain the unease welling up inside her. Reaching for her cup, she downed it all in one go—

—and with a sigh she stood, placing the cup back on table, hazel eyes locking on his.

“I don’t really understand how important this task is. But you must come back safely, Tigre-sama.”

Tigre placed his own cup aside, and held her lightly, the fragrance of her hair wafting into his nose as he did so.

You’ve grown taller...

“I will come back,” he repeated over again. “I’ll definitely return safely.”

===Part 6===

Tigre left the palace before the dawn of the next day. He would travel not as Tigrevurmund Vorn, but as a common soldier of LeitMeritz. He had said his farewells to Lim and Teita, but not to Ellen.

I wish I could have said goodbye to Rurick and the others as well.

These things left him quite a few regrets, but as a secret envoy, his departure needed to be made known to as few people as was possible. Perhaps Rurick might figure it out on his own, though.

He also had to leave by the back gate, instead of from the front. At the side of the gate, a saddled horse was already awaiting him—Lim’s handiwork, most likely.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Tigre placed his black bow on the saddle and secured a quiver full of arrows to his luggage—if one could call a small pack with a bear doll tied to it ‘luggage’—behind.

The bear had been obtained from Lim the night before, when she had come to check on his luggage to confirm that he had brought everything.

“Well then, take everything out.” She had said this rather strictly, and he had complied, laying out each item on the table. Food and water for several days, a stone flint, a dagger with a bottle of oil, and a purse full of silver and copper coins.

There was also a letter Ellen had written to her friend Alexandra Arshven, the Vanadis Sasha. She had done this in a hurry, had given instructions for him to see her friend when he passed through Legnica.

“Sasha will give you additional guidance on my behalf, so it doesn’t matter if you are late by one or even two days—You must go to see her. Understood?” And with that, she had given the letter to him.

Lastly, there were the two rings as well as the silk-covered tube that contained a secret message in the king’s own hand. The surface of the tube had been rolled over with a tanned hide painted black, rendering it completely waterproof.

After inspecting everything item by item, Lim had told him to wait, and left the room for a while.

Before long, she returned, carrying between her arms quite a few new items: a bag of herbs, a bottle of ointment, ropes of hemp and straw, needle, thread and even a hand mirror.

“Bring these along too.”

She said this matter of factly even as she let him help her to arrange these additional things, much to Tigre’s shock.

“Isn’t this a little overdone?” Actually, all of these should have been necessities for travel as well, but he hadn’t thought to bring them with him initially. When he got to the port town at Legnica, he could just purchase all of those trifling things there.

“And what will you do if something happens before you get to Legnica?”

His suggestion had been coldly rejected. He knew she meant well though, and didn’t argue.

But his thoughts inadvertently spilled out into words. “It feels like you’re my mother or something.”

“M-Mother?!” Lim’s stoic mask shattered outright, her eyes going wide as she stared at Tigre, dismayed. In the face of this unexpectedly strong response, Tigre quickly backed down.

“I’m really sorry if that made you unhappy. Teita’s mother was like this too—she would inspect my luggage very scrupulously every time I headed out of town.” Here, he paused for a moment, barely stopping short of calling her naggy. “You reminded me of her.”

“I understand. Still, you should watch how you say things,” Lim said. She seemed to have regained her composure after a few moments, but Tigre still felt terrible about calling a twenty-year old woman ‘mother’.

“In that case, take this with you.”

At this moment, Lim put something into Tigre’s hand. Into his hand, not onto the table—it was a small bear doll.

“It’s a charm. Mothers always give them to their children when they go off travelling, so take it. —I don’t remember having a child this old, though,” she said roughly as his shocked gaze alternated between her and the doll. Perhaps if the room had been brighter lit he might have seen her blushing right up to her hair.

Honestly speaking, it was embarrassing to have to hang a bear doll onto his luggage. But when he thought of Lim’s feelings, he could not bear to take it off.

Leaping into the saddle, Tigre trotted the horse forward a few steps. Then suddenly he turned, gazing atop the city walls. It was still dark, and the contours of the palace walls were silhouetted against the darkness. But he could feel someone watching him.

Straining his vision, he caught a small movement.

Who’s there?

It wasn’t a soldier—a soldier would be carrying a torch at this hour. But it was not an intruder either. He could not feel the person trying to conceal his or her breathing.

A gust of wind blew in.

It did not come from the left or the right. It came rushing down from above, blowing his hair every which way and forcing him to squint.

In the midst of the gale, he caught sight of an object hurtling towards him, glittering faintly as it caught the light. About the size of an insect, but not as fast. He reached out and caught it.

It was a silver coin, and on closer inspection there were words written in ink on it.

‘Good luck’

His eyes scanned across the walls again, but that person was gone.

Glancing at the coin once more, he put it into his waist-pocket with great care. That done, he grabbed the reins and rode out into the streets, his form enveloped by the darkness.

He knew who the one standing on the walls was. The Vanadis who commanded the winds.

She could not send him off openly, and so she had chosen this method instead.

His drowsiness was far behind him now, gone with the wind. He felt warm, and full of vigor.

I will definitely return safely.

He would give her a pleasing result with his own hands.

So decided, he spurred his horse forward, through the streets at the crack of dawn.

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| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_06_Chapter_2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Owari no Chronicle:Volume2 Chapter 20

2013-08-12T03:05:06Z

72.18.60.8: /* Chapter 20: Heart of Realization */

==Chapter 20: Heart of Realization==
[[Image:OnC_v02_0177.png|thumb]]
''Do you realize it because you know nothing?

''Do you not realize it because you know everything?

''There are some people who do neither

Even though it was the beginning of the afternoon, the Kinugasa Library was dark.

The fluorescent lights on the ceiling were on, but that roof was high and the many bookshelves created shadows.

Three people could be seen within that slightly dark and pale library.

One was Siegfried who was speaking on the phone behind the counter.

One was Ooshiro Itaru who sat in a chair in the center of the stepped floor. His metal cane was leaning against the table.

The last was Sf who was observing a bookshelf in the back.

Ooshiro glanced over at the tall back standing behind the counter.

Siegfried had been on the phone for a while now and he showed no sign of finishing soon.

Itaru sank down a bit in his chair and crossed his legs. He shook the guest slipper around on the end of his sock.

“Itaru-sama.”

He turned toward that voice and found Sf standing expressionlessly with something in her hand.

“Oh, you found one of the blots on the record of my life.”

“Testament. It is your graduation album. But despite being called an album, it is a simple printed book.”

“Now here’s a surprise. A lecture on English from a German-made automaton. I thought that was your enemy’s language.”

“No, my true enemy is the Soviet Union. British and American ones have thin armor, so they are not a threat.”

“…What in the world are you talking about?”

“Tes. I am talking about automatons. …What is that look in your eyes? This is common knowledge in the industry. Is there a problem?”

“According to my ‘common knowledge’, the Soviet Union was gone before you were created. Perhaps I am just imagining things.”

“Tes. You are exactly right. However, the Soviet Union lives on in your heart, Itaru-sama.”

“Oh? Another surprise. A doll is speaking about the human heart. And does that mean my heart is your enemy?”

“No, but I have determined it is Soviet-made. Its armor is thick and its attacks are guaranteed to kill, but it has little individuality. It is also worth mentioning that the armor is tilted diagonally. The mass-produced ones are different, though.”

“You can also add that it is quite cold.”

“I have no heart, so I cannot determine that for myself.”

Sf gave an expressionless bow. She held out the musty blue album.

Itaru silently took the velvet-covered album.

He opened it, flipped through the pages, and sighed as he looked through the class photos. Sf then spoke from behind him.

“I see a lot of faces that show there are no thoughts going through their heads.”

“Don’t steal my lines.”

“It is my duty to save you whatever effort I can.”

“What about the effort of throwing you away when you break?”

“Do not worry. I am set to cease functioning at the same time that you are destroyed. There will be no-…”

Itaru closed his eyes and cut Sf off.

“Don’t say it. I’ve heard it so many times already,” he said expressionlessly.

“Testament,” replied Sf.

Sf fell silent and Itaru continued flipping through the album. He arrived at the graduation writings.

“Here it is. Read this ridiculous writing.”

“Tes. Should I read it out loud?”

“Yes.”

“Tes. You have not asked me to read you something in a long time. Not since five days after I arrived in Japan. I have checked my memory to a depth level of 5, so there is no mistaking it.”

“Yes, I remember. As a prank, I handed you a pornographic manga I had confiscated from a worker, but you suddenly began reading it quite loudly. Are your ethical standards set to overseas levels?”

“You never told me to throw it away and reading writings to one’s master is an important job of a maid or butler. However, my lack of emotion leaves me ill-suited for a text with so much shouting and so many sound effects.”

Itaru fell silent. He turned toward Sf with his eyes half-closed and held the album out toward her.

She took it and read, “Title: Stimulant.”

“No, The one right below that one.”

“Tes. Title: Untitled.

Just as we thought the long awaited time had come

A time came where we once more could only wait

We were taught nothing more than the accumulation of time

And new time was not what waited beyond our dreams

What we learned here was how to skillfully exploit time

And an understanding that nothingness is the time of salvation.”

As Sf finished reading the writing, Itaru held his right hand against his face.

“That is so much better when read by someone who works for me. I love this feeling of my hair standing on end.”

“I have determined this was written by you, Itaru-sama.”

“Yes, it was. You could tell?”

“Tes. I could see an intentional effort to make each line 10 words long. Also, I can find nothing more than harassment in the meaning of the text.”

“Hah. You really are an excellent machine. I really mean that, so rejoice and express that joy in your actions.”

“Tes.” Sf expressionlessly raised her arms above her hand and lowered them. “Did that satisfy your demand? If you wish for a more vigorous expression of joy, I can do it three times in a row.”

“The Germans really know how to make a high-performance machine.”

“Testament. Their support is excellent as well. Feel free to use me as you see fit.”

Instead of nodding, Itaru gestured further into the library with his chin. Sf turned in that direction with the album in hand.

“…”

The light blue slipper on the end of Itaru’s folded leg almost fell off, so she first put it back on properly.

She then walked off expressionlessly.

As she did, a small noise came from the counter behind her. It was the sound of a phone receiver being set down.

Itaru turned around and found Siegfried looking at him.

Itaru raised his sunglasses and said, “Men shouldn’t spend so long on the phone.”

“I had not spoken with this old comrade for 10 years. Now, Ooshiro Itaru, what do you need?”

“As Team Leviathan’s supervisor, I came to check on a few things related to the transportation of the holy sword Gram. After all, Mr. Zonburg, you were the most closely involved in the destruction of 1st-Gear.”

The white mechanical dragon Fafnir Custom slept in the base of 1st-Gear’s City faction that existed underground below a gym.

Wind blew through the darkness.

The wind had color. That color was black. The black wind blew back and forth above Fafnir Custom’s body as if dancing and then blew up toward the ceiling. A single small bell with writing carved into it hung there.

The wind struck the bell and the bell rang.

The bell emitted a high pitched noise and the wind suddenly formed a body.

It was a black cat. Specifically, the cat Brunhild owned.

“There we go.”

The black cat twisted in midair and landed on Fafnir Custom’s back. It pressed the inside of its legs against the slanted armor rather than trying to use its claws. It slowly lay down.

“Venerable Hagen,” said the cat.

“I am here.” A palely glowing old man appeared next to the black cat. He yawned and said, “Is this your periodic report?”

“Yes, it is. I have no news like yesterday, so I am just making an appearance.”

“We have nothing new here either. You can go find something to eat outside until the sound of the bell fades away. Nein will not notice.”

Hagen yawned again and the cat looked up at the side of the old man’s face.

“Do you have dreams too, Venerable Hagen?”

“Ah?” Hagen looked down at the black cat and finally formed a smile. “Yes, I do. I was just dreaming of when Brunhild asked for help while crying.”

“Was that when you joined with Fafnir Custom? …Why did you decide to do that as a member of the royal family?”

“I was the only one there with enough social status to lead everyone. And when we moved to this world, it was necessary to release the concepts inside it to create a concept space the people of 1st-Gear could live in. That meant someone had to join with Fafnir Custom.” He placed his chin in his hands and let out a meaningless sigh. “I did something inexcusable to Brunhild…no, to Nein. How is she doing with Siegfried?”

The black cat remained silent. It looked away from Hagen and took three breaths before finally responding.

“Sh-she is observing him. …And she is keeping her distance to…yes, to make sure she is not found out.”

“I see,” said Hagen with a nod.

He had a smile on his face, but the ends of his eyebrows had lowered a small bit.

“I see,” he muttered again. “Hey.”

“Wh-what is it?” asked the black cat.

Hagen nodded once, looked forward, and then looked down.

“What we must do for our respective positions can be a lot of trouble. But…”

“But?”

“At the very least, I want you to remain her ally.”

The black cat listened to what Hagen said and nodded in understanding within the dim darkness.

In the next moment, a knock came at the door to the room and a woman in a simple white outfit entered.

She was in a hurry. Her pace was quick as she entered and impatience could be heard in her voice.

“The investigation… The investigation is complete. It was exactly as you said, Lord Hagen.” The woman took a breath and continued speaking once her breathing was regulated. “A transport plane is preparing for takeoff at IAI headquarters. Most likely, the holy sword Gram will pass by over our heads tonight as it is transported!”

Siegfried’s words reverberated through the Kinugasa Library.

“So Gram will be transported tonight. 1st-Gear’s Leviathan Road will finally begin in earnest.”

Siegfried stood behind the counter while Itaru remained seated.

“My father must be going senile to leave this all to some kid. The provisional negotiations supposedly ended fine, but from what I hear, those negotiations were a sham.”

“You certainly are harsh.”

“I’m kind to myself. And that is what saves the smart ones. They run away from me.”

“Do you hope Sayama Mikoto and the others will withdraw from the Leviathan Road?”

“Only kids make decisions based on what they hope for.” Itaru pushed his sunglasses back up his nose. “But once Gram is stored in UCAT HQ, the real negotiations with 1st-Gear will begin.”

“And that will be the true beginning of the Leviathan Road?”

“Yes. If he is still involved then, he will be unable to back out. Gram’s arrival is the time limit for Sayama Mikoto. He must decide for himself by then.”

Itaru reached to the end of his crossed leg and returned the slipper Sf had fixed to its half-removed state.

He shook the light blue slipper with the tips of his toes and asked a question.

“Who were you on the phone with?”

“I told you it was old comrade, didn’t I? He was delighted that Sayama Mikoto has begun to take action. He said Sayama Mikoto will likely learn all sorts of things while not knowing what direction he is headed, just like we did long ago.”

“And about one in a hundred of the things he does will be successes?”

“Yes. One only arrives at the truth after many failures and doubts.” A small smile appeared on Siegfried’s lips. “I remember when we first learned of the Concept War in the National Defense Department days. Yes, that was when it was found out that I was only pretending to cooperate with the National Defense Department and that I had come to destroy the ley line modification facility for the German region.” His smile grew bitter. “I had yet to destroy the facility and yet it was destroyed. My comrades thought I had done it, so they pursued me and a battle began. It was then that it happened.”

“I’ve heard about this. The sky suddenly split open and a mechanical dragon and god of war dropped down.”

“It was a battle between 1st-Gear and 3rd-Gear. From that point on, we knew that the National Defense Department’s job extended beyond just our world,” said Siegfried. “So much was learned and so much was lost. And not all by us. If Sayama Mikoto accepts the Leviathan Road and charges ahead, will he see it all?”

“Who can say? He might run away or die before that happens. Do you remember what his grandfather would always say?”

“The surname Sayama indicates a villain?”

Itaru nodded and grinned.

“Will Sayama Mikoto be able to hold pride in the evil he commits? I am not talking about a skirmish with a small radical group or provisional negotiations against someone who is going easy on him. When faced with a true opponent, will he be able to settle things by using evil as righteousness? …And before that, will he be able to choose to step onto the battlefield? I do not know the answer to any of these questions.”

As Ooshiro spoke, Siegfried closed his eyes.

“Ooshiro Itaru, you are very particular about the surname Sayama. I heard the reason why from Diana.”

“Then you should understand why I hate that kid. I don’t even want to see him. The surname Sayama that I know is nothing like him. It does not refer to some ignorant kid who is protected by everything.”

“Itaru-sama.”

Itaru’s body relaxed when Sf called out from behind him.

He turned around just as Sf crouched down.

Sf once more silently fixed his slipper.

Itaru stood up, but his right leg trembled and almost gave out.

Sf reached out from the side and silently supported him.

“Here,” she said after grabbing his metal cane.

Itaru supported himself with the cane.

He straightened his back and nodded toward Siegfried.

“But… If the Leviathan Road continues forward, will my comrades take action?”

“Yes, Diana, the survivors of the National Defense Department, and the survivors of the original UCAT will take action. Mr. Zonburg, your friend is still alive.”

“I was just told as much over the phone. You mean Thunderson, right?” Siegfried frowned. “It is a shame that Yankee is still alive. He should be coming here with his great-grandchild within the year, though.”

Siegfried’s comment deepened the grin on Itaru’s face.

Itaru pushed his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes and bowed, all while standing at the bottom of the valley created by the bookshelves of Kinugasa Library.

“View it like a class reunion you think is a mistake, Mr. Zonburg.”

Seeing his actions and hearing his words, Sf belatedly bowed as well. Itaru slowly gave one last comment.

“That is one way to look at our Leviathan Road.”

Shinjou and Sayama sipped at drinks in Okutama Station as the sun set.

The wooden station building had a cement floor. They were sitting on a wooden bench by the wall at the entrance.

To get this far, they had taken a UCAT bus out to the front of IAI and then another bus from there. Sayama had to wait 20 minutes for his train, so they had plenty of time to talk.

It was the afternoon, but the entrance was almost deserted due to school not being in session. Shinjou listened to the sounds of cars and busses in the distance as she looked at the drink can in her hand.

She had never had melon soda before. She thought its flavor had less individuality than the sodas at UCAT.

She took a breath and looked at Sayama next to her. He was giving mineral water to Baku who sat on his shoulder even though he had just finished entering some numbers into the cell phone he had received at UCAT.

…''Is he the type of person who can’t relax without doing something?

Shinjou’s own question brought a bitter smile to her lips. She searched for something to say.

“Um, what do you think about what we were told earlier? About the holy sword Gram being suddenly transported today.”

Sayama looked away from Baku.

“Well.” He nodded and placed Baku and the bottle next to him. “It is indeed sudden. Word arrived just as we were leaving UCAT, but I suppose it starts when it starts.”

“What will you do, Sayama-kun? Will you take part in the Leviathan Road?”

“You will, won’t you? You want to pursue this Shinjou from the National Defense Department that Fasolt mentioned.”

“Yes. But I am talking about you, Sayama-kun, not me.”

“I see,” began Sayama quietly. “Currently, I think I am leaning toward not taking part.”

“Really?”

She tilted her head and Sayama nodded.

“Yes, really. In the end, I have not found an answer for myself. And now the time has come. It would be like going in for a test without studying properly. The problem is that I would rather back out than get a bad grade on this test.”

“When you say you haven’t found an answer for yourself, do you mean in relation to the surname Sayama indicating a villain?”

Sayama looked a bit surprised to hear that. He quickly composed himself and nodded slowly.

“Being hated is a difficult thing. And…both the knight’s group yesterday and Fasolt today took action while prepared for that. I achieved decent results both times, but I was no match for them where it really counts.” He took a breath. “Take Fasolt for example. He wishes for continued peace. That requires compromise and actions that can be seen as betrayals. But he is willing to go through with it regardless. Why is that?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. Do you think the radical factions can really gain anything by fighting?”

“I do,” said Sayama. “If they win and their opponent is gone, they will gain a world of peace all for themselves. And even if they do not lose, as long as they can show off their power, they can force their fearful enemy to compromise.”

“That’s solving everything with strength…”

“Strength is a rudimentary form of language, Shinjou-kun. If you agree, you shake hands. If you disagree, you punch them. Even without words, that will convey your meaning. Even now, there are tribes living on the earth that use strength in their standard customs. Let me ask this instead: why must everything be resolved with words? Words are an aspect of civilization that humans did not initially have. They are a replacement for strength. Why is it necessary to resolve everything with them?”

“B-because they don’t harm you or your opponent,” she said while subconsciously clenching her hands.

Green fizz spilled from the drink can in her hands.

“Ah,” said Shinjou as she frantically pulled a handkerchief from her pocket.

As she wiped off her hands, her thoughts were centered on her worry that Sayama did not even understand this simple concept.

…''This is important. It has to be.

She nodded in her heart and thought on what she should say to Sayama. Strength entered the inside of her eyebrows and she folded up her handkerchief.

“U-um, Sayama-kun…”

She stopped before she could continue speaking.

She saw Sayama looking toward her with a powerless smile on his face.

It was a simple smile and nothing else. However…

…''Why is he looking at me like that when I’m angry?

His reply came soon thereafter.

He nodded and said, “That is your answer, Shinjou-kun. You have the right to take the test. You are much more qualified than I am.”

His last sentence sent a chill down Shinjou’s back.

“N-no. I…I…”

“Do you want to say you could not speak with Fasolt and his absurd arguments today, with that group from yesterday, or with the werewolf the day before yesterday? Do you want to say that you cannot fight them either?”

Shinjou nodded.

“Why is it they refuse to talk things out?” asked Sayama.

“B-because…um…they have grudges that cannot be settled with words?”

“Yes. And so they refuse to sit at the negotiating table to talk things out. In other words, those who wish for peace can only speak with others who wish for a peaceful conclusion. However...”

“However?”

“Even those who do not wish for peace lose things in war. In fact… They are the ones who cannot forgive those losses, so they may be the ones who truly hate war.”

“…”

“In that case, what does it mean to make up for our crimes? Is it enough to make it up only to those who already assume a peaceful resolution? Is it really best to not even touch on those who wish for our deaths?”

“B-but if we stand before them, they might kill us, Sayama-kun.”

“That is why the Leviathan Road has given us power,” said Sayama. “I think I understand the meaning behind the initial conditions my grandfather gave the Leviathan Road. I think I understand why he has given us no information and has allowed us to fight.”

Sayama folded his arms and leaned back in the wooden bench. He could feel the chill of the rough wooden planks that sat at uneven heights.

“There are those in the ten Gears who hope for our deaths or defeat. Why do they wish for death? We have not been given any information on the past so that we can truly understand that and make use of that reason.”

“You mean knowledge we are given without searching it out has no value?”

“Yes. Knowledge only becomes wisdom if you have the will to learn. If we are given prepackaged knowledge and try to use it as a shield, the other races will not feel any sincerity in us.”

Sayama picked up Baku. The beast had been sticking its head in the clear bottle to peer at the water within, but he now flailed his limbs as he hung down. Once his gaze met Sayama’s he calmed down.

Sayama lowered Baku and tipped the bottle on its side. Baku stuck his head in the bottle’s opening and drank the water.

Shinjou smiled bitterly at the small animal’s behavior. Sayama made a similar smile.

“We are using Baku here in our investigation so we can view the past with no glorification or distortion. We must decide for ourselves based on that. And…”

“We must negotiate using strength, words, and every other means available to us?”

“Yes. This is why my grandfather left the Leviathan Road to me. The surname Sayama indicates a villain, so he wanted me to take that knowledge and wisdom and make what decisions I had to.”

Sayama closed his eyes.

He did not look at Shinjou or anything else around him.

“But,” he began. “Just because I have that knowledge and wisdom does not mean my evil is needed. After all, my grandfather did not always use that method.”

Sayama sensed Shinjou stiffening next to him. Eventually, she spoke.

“You probably should rethink this. This may indeed be a good role for you, Sayama-kun. But it’s wrong. It isn’t right to end everything by making someone the villain. Even if it’s important to you, I think it’s wrong.”

“But I am interested in the Leviathan Road. …If possible, I would like to take part.”

“But… can you trust yourself when you get serious?”

Sayama sighed.

He opened his eyes. The ends of Shinjou’s eyebrows were lowered as she stared at him.

''She is a welcome person to have around,'' he thought.

He looked her in the eye and several seconds of silence followed.

Finally, Shinjou looked down and spoke as if checking on something.

“Sayama-kun, do you really want to take part in the Leviathan Road?”

Sayama thought on her question. He thought back over everything and found only one answer.

“Yes.”

“I see. Then…think up some way of resolving this. Think up a way you can get serious and remain confident.” Shinjou lightly embraced her own body while still looking down. “If only there was some standard you could use when conflicted over whether your actions are a necessary evil or not. …I don’t know how you could know that, though.”

“A standard for necessary evil…? In other words, a villain’s requirement,” muttered Sayama.

He looked down at his feet and thought.

…''A standard to know for sure what I am doing is wrong, hm?

When he thought about it, it was a simple matter. To know whether he was wrong or not…

…''I just need someone by my side who is right.

He needed someone who was the opposite of himself. When he realized that, his pulse began to race.

“…”

He needed someone who could be a standard for him. He needed someone who would allow him to meet the proper requirements. And someone like that was already by his side.

He could easily know whether he was wrong or not if he looked at that person.

But Sayama had tried to keep that person out of his mind.

After all, if he took part in the Leviathan Road, it would mean that person would be standing in the same place as him. That person would be standing at the receiving end of grudges and could be killed. He had wanted to avoid that.

“…”

He silently began to sweat. His pulse grew even faster.

''What is this?'' he thought. ''This is not like me.

He just had to tell that person he needed them. He had to ask that person to stand with him on the battlefield and sit with him at the negotiating table. He had to ask tht person to accept enmity and death alongside him.

It was selfish.

Being hated as a villain was an issue for him alone, but this would be dragging another person down along with him.

However, that person’s voice reached his ears. It was a gentle and quiet voice.

It said, “I hope you can find a standard for yourself, Sayama-kun.”

Sayama stood up.

With the rustling of his suit, he looked at her. He looked at the opposite of himself who could act as his standard.

He looked at the girl named Shinjou.

Shinjou backed away slightly with her drink can in her hands.

Before her eyes, Sayama had stood up after letting his head droop down for a while. He was looking at her. He was wrinkling his brow and seemed to want to say something. That was why Shinjou had pulled back.

“Wh-what is it?”

Her question caused Sayama to jump as if he had suddenly realized something.

All strength suddenly left his expression. His usual expression quickly returned. This expression was almost a lack of expression. However, Shinjou thought his slightly downward-cast face appeared conflicted.

…''Is something the matter?

Shinjou tilted her head.

“Did something happen? Is it about the Leviathan Road or your standard?”

As she spoke, Shinjou wondered what it was she was worried about.

She had said the Leviathan Road was dangerous, but once he had said he wanted to take part, she had given him self-important advice and was trying to help him again.

''I must truly want…'' she began silently.

She wanted him to take part in the Leviathan Road.

She did not want him to die or be hated, but he could do things she could not. She wanted that.

She recalled when they had first met. She remembered when she had let him rest on her lap in that forest. He had admitted that she was right. She had always thought she was wrong, but he had said she was right.

And on the way back that night, she had apologized for forcing her thoughts onto him, but he had smiled and said she had done nothing of the sort.

She wondered if it was strange to be happy about having her thoughts denied.

…''To me, he is right and is a welcome person to have around.

Shinjou nodded in her heart.

…''I wonder if there is anything I can do to help him.

After the negotiations with Fasolt when he had been depressed over being unable to get serious, she had not been able to say anything.

She decided she needed to say something now. She opened her mouth to speak. The first time, only her lips moved. The second time, she produced a voice.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

Sayama turned back toward her. He lowered his head once more, looked up, and…

“…”

The train created a loud noise as it entered the station. The wheels caused the track to creak and Sayama turned around.

The sounds of the train slowed and finally stopped.

When Sayama turned back toward her, his expression was back to normal. However, this brought no relief to Shinjou. He was always acted the way he did because he wanted to be strong.

Sayama looked at her as they listened to the footsteps of the people walking from the platform to the entrance.

“Shinjou-kun, one quick thing.”

His voice was back to its normal tone when he spoke.

The words he had been about to speak with that shaken expression would not be coming. Shinjou felt a disappointed emptiness in her chest, but still tilted her head. If he had any complaints, she would listen.

“What? What is it?”

In her slightly titled vision, she saw Sayama pull the digital recorder from his pocket and hold it up.

The area was filled with the footsteps and other noises of the people on the platform.

Sayama ignored them and spoke with a serious expression.

“I forgot to ask about the continuation from before. You said you jumped when you thought I was going to touch your butt, but what happened then? Please tell me in great detail.”

As her vision twitched with thoughts similar to “you’re one stubborn bastard”, she saw Sayama check the watch on his left wrist.

“I have no time, but I am terribly curious. Come on. There is nothing to fear. Tell me forcefully and intensely!”

After that final comment, Shinjou forcefully and intensely slapped Sayama.

The art room curtain began to grow dyed in crimson.

Brunhild stood petrified as the black cat stood on the floor in front of her. Her right hand held the blue stone used to return the wind to the form of a cat. The small bird sat on her shoulder and she spoke in a slightly trembling voice.

“The holy sword Gram is…what?”

The black cat was catching its breath with its limbs sprawled out on the floor.

“It seems IAI HQ is sending Gram by air to the IAI Tokyo branch. He said…” The cat took a breath. “They will be shooting it down.”

“So a battle cannot be avoided now.”

“Fafner said you should return right away. He said he would leave taking care of Siegfried to you.”

“Eh?”

A movement came over Brunhild’s expressionless face. This movement was produced by strength.

When the black cat saw that expression, it turned away.

“If Gram is retrieved, its master, Siegfried, is sure to take action. Fafner said he would be left to you. Brunhild,” called the black cat. “Everyone is expecting to see the cries of resentment contained in the scythe of the underworld.”

Brunhild shook her head and stopped moving.

The small bird on her shoulder chirped.

Brunhild did not move when she heard it.

All expression had left her face. There was not even enough there to call it expressionless. It was as if all color had been lost from her face.

“…”

Brunhild remained silent, hung her head, and closed her eyes.

She bit her lower lip and knitted her brow.

A slight breath leaked from deep in her throat.

The black cat looked up at her. When it realized she had her eyes closed, the cat partially closed its own eyes, hung its head down, and gave a small nod.

“Okay,” mouthed the cat before looking up. “Brunhild?”

Brunhild opened her eyes. By the time their gazes met, the cat was looking at its owner the same as ever.

“Brunhild,” called the cat once more. “I am doing my best to be your ally.”

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