Chapter 278 : Chapter 278
Chapter 278: Gift
Mages were more meticulous than expected, and more careless than expected.
That was the portrait Albi, the mage of Promise, had shown.
But since the carelessness was rooted in prior meticulousness, her bluff was beyond reproach. It would have worked, had Harad not regressed.
Is that meticulous, or careless.
Harad stared at Eiga. Rags instead of clothes, a complexion pale as though overexerted, trembling hands, heat gone......
'Magical power depleted?'
The Eiga before him was full of openings.
Right now, even Kubel could kill him. With fists, not magic.
'How does that make sense.'
There were reasons to kill Basele Tuas.
Eiga disliked water.
But no reason for Eiga to be in this state.
Basele Tuas had been 4th Rank.
"Did you run into a high-Rank Magical Beast?"
"Something far more dangerous?"
A compliment to Harad.
Had the Tower of the Deep Sea joined the fray, Eiga wouldn't have phrased it that way.
"The Moon?"
The Moon is a woman, though.
"It was Night."
"Night?"
"Yes! Ah. Night is what the Moon dared name as her Star."
Each Tower had Stars, special mages second only to the Tower Master.
Originally the Tower of the Sun had been the originator, but over long ages the meaning of Star had shifted.
How presumptuous.
The pale Eiga muttered.
While the Sun had been absent, the Moon had created her own Star.
"My Star's star, then."
"Exactly."
Eiga clapped.
"What kind of mage is Night?"
"I don't know. An exceedingly dark one."
"You know it's a 'him,' at least."
"Volcano is fire too. Like me, some fires have occasionally seen things."
What illuminates the night is fire.
Meaning Night's vagueness couldn't defy that law.
"5th Rank, then."
"Higher than me, though."
That plainly displeased Eiga.
"Night targeted Basele Tuas. Correct?"
"You see it immediately! As expected of Lord Harad."
Eiga hadn't been able to protect him.
Saving his own skin had been the limit.
"Were you targeted too?"
"Yes! But when Basele Tuas died, Night withdrew at once."
Night's sole target had been Basele Tuas.
'Basele Tuas was killed because he was a Laash survivor. Because he'd seen the Sun there.'
Harad frowned.
'And Eiga Akker?'
Strictly speaking, Eiga too was a Laash survivor. He knew both Harein and Harad.
If Harad wished, Eiga could travel to the Otherworld and spread Harein's information.
'Why? An ally of the Moon? An ally of mine?'
Either made sense.
The Moon might be using Eiga to monitor Harad, or Eiga might be Harad's faithful subordinate.
-Big and small fires will come back.
The Moon's voice rang like a hallucination.
-There'll be a fire you want.
She'd said that. Take what you please.
The big and small fires meant Dreamers, and the fire he wanted meant the Torch.
That was why Harad had been certain they were gifts.
'One of many gifts, then.'
In hindsight, not just Aten the Extinguished Torch but Dreamers themselves were the gift.
'Among the Dreamers are fires like Eiga and fires like Aten.'
If they were like Aten, predate them; if like Eiga, take them in.
Sort the Dreamers as he pleased and consume at will. That seemed to be the Moon's meaning of gift.
'The Moon wants me to grow stronger. Wants to curry favor by helping.'
Whatever the process, that was the intent.
He'd nearly died to Tower Master Kandenkel, but that had been to make Harad take the Embers.
'Meaning Eiga can be trusted for now.'
Whatever his true motives, the mage called Eiga was of use to Harad. That was the Moon's intent.
'Scheming hag.'
The Moon was a hag. Night was a bastard.
Night. Harad mulled the Origin.
A mage unheard of in the past life. Like the Moon.
'Not a trace in the past life. Things this scheming, this powerful.'
As though they'd never existed.
"When it comes to the Moon Tower, I don't know much either!"
When their eyes met, Eiga answered as though he'd been waiting.
"But why did the Moon target Basele Tuas?"
Sincere? Or words promised to the Moon or Night?
"The Moon wants me. Without honoring the prophecy, and in secret from the Otherworld."
Harad didn't feel like scheming anymore.
Perhaps because his throat was dry.
"She wants to monopolize. The Sun."
"Pardon?"
"Does that make the Moon a Dreamer too?"
"How dare a mere Star!"
Eiga erupted.
The sweat across his body began turning to lava, but lacking magical power, only smoke rose.
"The nerve!"
Seemed sincere.
***
Night comes for Laash's survivors.
Only Basele Tuas had fallen so far, but the count would grow. The Moon was a scheming, meticulous woman.
'What if I take in the survivors?'
Little meaning.
He couldn't escort them to the Otherworld.
Even if they arrived, the Moon would act personally.
'Not bad, actually.'
Otherworld mages dying. From the Moon's perspective, carving her own flesh. Harad thought that was fine.
'Wish she'd kill more.'
The weaker the Otherworld, the better for him.
If the Otherworld learned of Harein, it might come to that.
"Charity work!"
Tunnel co-proprietor Eiga exclaimed.
After hearing Harad's tunnel explanation.
"Continental mages have it rough too. Not a great place."
"I've met asylum seekers in the Boundary. Rejected by the Otherworld."
"Lord Harad knows the Otherworld's ways too! Correct. The Otherworld doesn't accept just any mage."
Eiga's eyes narrowed as he stole a glance at the tunnel.
"You know that, yet leave it open?"
"Choice is freedom."
"Well said! Some mage who'd resolved to die might decide to live until finding this tunnel."
Hope, in a word.
Eiga had pinpointed precisely why Harad kept the tunnel.
"What about guests with impaired judgment? Very old, or very young mages."
"None so far."
Old or young guests had come, but their judgment had never been impaired. All had companions, and all had taken the village tunnel toward Manoa.
Because fearsome rumors about the Boundary abounded.
A village, a safe zone -- choosing that tunnel was natural.
And most asylum seekers who reached the village gave up on asylum. Harad didn't share that part.
"The tunnel you'll manage is this one."
Harad pointed to the tunnel Eiga had just emerged from.
"Where's the other? I heard there were two!"
"That one's under my Annex. Want to see?"
"May I?"
"No."
The Village of Embers.
The village that had inspired Harad was simultaneously a weakness.
No reason to go around exposing it.
Unless the Moon intervened, Grand Duke Aratus wouldn't stir. Same for the knights. He couldn't bring them along easily.
The village's safety was Harad's responsibility.
It was his village.
"The other tunnel, next time."
"Yes!"
Eiga grinned as if anything was fine.
Understandable in parts, still hard in others.
'Doesn't like the tunnel?'
None of his business.
If Serzila said jump, Harad jumped.
Eiga was a mage who jumped when Harad said jump. At least for now. The Moon had vouched, so for a while yet.
Harad, Eiga, and Ellen left the underground.
They'd come through Harad's Annex, but they exited through a door at the domain's edge. Thirsty and wanting fresh air.
"Not going in?"
"I'll escort you to the Inner Fortress."
"No need."
"Then in I go!"
Eiga bowed deeply in the middle of the road.
Before Jacks and Metel's house.
Since Seran's birth and his protection of the baby, Eiga had been staying here.
Not by coercion.
Just as Eiga had confirmed the couple's sincerity, Jacks and Metel had learned his. The Volcano had an unlikely fondness for babies. The belly band in his hand was a gift for Seran.
"A drink?"
Once Eiga entered the house, Ellen tilted her head and hand together.
The Snow Leopard's Footprint happened to be right there.
"Just you?"
"As if. You'll set a fire."
"That was Eternal Snow."
Not that Harad was weak; Serzila's spirits were simply that strong. He'd drunk a lot too. That night had demanded it.
"Never mind. You don't like it. You don't have to drink."
Ellen didn't push.
She wanted Harad to do as he pleased. Drink if he wanted, don't if he didn't.
"I like watching."
"Then come along."
Ellen beamed at the addition.
The night was so dark the eyes could barely see, yet Harad thought it was dazzling.
The Snow Leopard's Footprint was famous for terrible food.
But a fine tavern for its lack of customers.
"Come to think of it, there's no food now. Should we find another tavern?"
"Why no food?"
"You quit, remember. Tobacco."
"Ah."
Ellen had become a regular at the bland Snow Leopard's Footprint because the Flower District's Bare Flesh had gone under.
And because tobacco was the snack.
The Ellen before him had successfully quit.
"It's fine. I have a replacement."
"What?"
"A snack."
Instead of food or tobacco, Ellen pointed at Harad.
"You're my new snack."
"......"
Harad reflexively covered himself.
"That was your taste?"
"Not like that."
"Doesn't look like it."
Ellen's expression was somewhat scheming.
"I'll just look. Just look."
She looked like a criminal.
***
Quill pen.
The Magical Item the Liberation Tower favored came in pairs. Only a quill pen and its linked counterpart could communicate by writing.
Albi's quill pen hadn't moved yet.
She'd be in the middle of leaving the North about now.
Finer quality than the pen Isotta had owned and used to communicate with Bone Awl Kunlutsban. Its operating range would be greater too.
When the quill pen moved, that would be the moment Albi arrived at the Liberation Tower's base.
Perhaps the travel time could yield a distance estimate.
'Too simple? Right, she's not that stupid.'
In any case, it made for a cozy night.
The quill pen was quiet, and the Snow Leopard's Footprint with its terrible food was particularly still that night. Even whispered words conveyed every glance, every note, every feeling in full.
Ellen sometimes looked scheming, but she wasn't truly scheming. She seemed bold, then turned shy. She was brash only within the range of what she knew or had done.
Perhaps that was what made her cuter. Thinking so made his heart twitch. Or perhaps it was when Ellen's hand moved.
Thus the regression's constraint would assert itself whenever forgotten, but it wasn't much of a burden.
As long as he didn't violate the constraint, it didn't act strongly. That was the extent of the permitted vagueness.
Ellen drank moderately and returned to the Inner Fortress with Harad at a moderate hour of the dawn. She didn't dream.
Meaning stimuli were insufficient, and needed.
Like Albi, like last night. Harad stared at the ceiling's patterns and mulled dreams and Butterflies.
'The past life, the other world.'
Did that even make sense?
Even for the reverted Harad, it was something vague. He smelled something rank just then.
"......?"
Not just rank but the smell of blood.
Once perceived, the scent of iron rushed into his nostrils.
A head sat at his bedside.
Wide-eyed, a severed head. An unfamiliar face he'd never seen.
Yet the situation itself felt familiar.
"...... Deja vu?"
Harad lay still, only his eyes open, and stared at the head.
"What the hell?"
Until Ellen came.