Wizard of the Deep Sea

TL/ED – Miso

For one thing, it was hard to tell with the mask on, but I was ten years old.

I couldn’t recover any memories. There were no lost memories to begin with.

Naturally, a blunt response was all that came out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is our first meeting.”

From my perspective it wasn’t, but from Azrael’s perspective, it truly was the first time.

When I cut him off flatly, he shrugged and replied.

“I’ve never seen the likes of you before either. It’s been hundreds of years since I’ve even spoken with a Fallen.”

“…Then what’s this about memories?”

“You know the Key. You have the memory of it.” Azrael spouted this incomprehensible nonsense and forced the staff he’d been holding into my hands.

“What’s a Key?”

“A Pass. Someone entrusted their memories to you and gave you a string so you could access them. And the moment you see and memorize it, it’s etched into your soul. It leaves a trace I can detect.”

“A Pass…?”

A Pass that grants access to memories.

I understood what it meant, but the idea that I knew one…

“…Ah.”

“Sounds like something’s coming back to you.”

“Somewhat.”

I conceded with a deep frown.

There was exactly one. The string of characters that the future Sharmia had shown me.

In other words, the memories Azrael was offering to give me now were those of Crimson Circle Sharmia.

“I still don’t understand, though.”

I shook my head, still bewildered.

“You wouldn’t have met that person either, the one whose memories you claim to have.”

Azrael at this point in time had only just met Sharmia.

If he hadn’t received the memories during that encounter, the timeline didn’t add up.

“You’re probably right.”

Azrael readily agreed with a nod.

“Why would I need to meet them personally? I’m just the gatekeeper and caretaker of the Ark. The vast space I manage doesn’t allow only a single entrance, nor does it have only one caretaker. It’s most likely memories stored by someone else, from a different point in time.”

“What are you saying…?”

“I merely borrow the sorcery called the Ark. Someone else may have shoved memories inside it, but if you know the Key, it falls to me to open it for you.”

“Do I have to open it?”

“Suit yourself. I have no intention of forcing you. No intention of fighting either.”

Azrael answered indifferently and sat down.

“But if you’re going to decide, do it quickly. My stew should be boiling right about now.”

“…”

I looked at Azrael, utterly unconcerned since it wasn’t his problem, and sorted through the situation.

Crimson Circle Sharmia had left some kind of memory for me.

From what I’d seen so far, she was deeply hostile toward me. She had somehow lured Sharmia toward the Ark, toward Azrael, and I had followed because I absolutely could not afford to lose Sharmia.

She had even sent an Assassin after me. Though that seemed less about targeting me directly and more about making Sharmia lose trust in me, an attempt to drive us apart.

And on top of that, Azrael…?

“…?”

…Something.

How to put it. All of this felt less like something she’d done for her own sake.

And more like an elaborate setup to get Azrael and me alone together. That was the impression it gave.

There was a good chance I was overthinking it, but…

“Let me ask one thing.”

“You’ve already asked a ridiculous amount, and now you want more.”

“…Is viewing the memories a dangerous act?”

“Dangerous, my ass. Do you feel pain when a character dies in a play you’re watching? The act of viewing memories itself isn’t dangerous in the slightest. The only real danger is how those memories might change you.”

“So I can take that to mean my life won’t be at risk?”

“As long as you don’t get so distraught by the contents that you kill yourself, sure.”

“…”

Given that the Pass, the Key, had been handed over, it wasn’t born from complete indifference.

The future Sharmia wanted me to view the memories she’d left behind.

‘No matter how I look at it, this feels like a trap…’

If she’d gone through such a convoluted method to lure me all the way here, the prevailing theory was that the implanted memories would cause serious damage to my psyche.

But then again, hearing Azrael’s assurance tilted my resolve toward taking the challenge.

Every second I wasted was a second I should have been chasing after Sharmia. I had to decide quickly.

“Hmm, curiosity always kills the cat.”

-Scratch, scrape, scratch! Without hesitation, I used the staff to trace the sentence the future Sharmia had shown me.

As if he’d known I would, Azrael glanced down at the dirt floor, nodded, and rose to his feet.

“Key confirmed. I’ll open it for you.”

“…”

Azrael’s hand touched my head.

It was the same sensation I’d felt before, and it was no more pleasant this time.

The world turning blinding white, then cutting to pitch black, over and over, dozens of times.

The speed accelerating, until the world blurred into gray, and there…

“Gah.”

A nosebleed burst and trickled down.

When I came to my senses, Azrael was pulling his hand away from my head with a look of disbelief.

“Every blood vessel in your eyes has burst. I just crammed roughly an encyclopedia’s worth in there, you know?”

“I’m, fine.”

I raised a hand to stop him and searched through my mind.

New memories, new memories, new memories…

“There’s nothing.”

“That so?”

I agonized for a full five minutes, but not a single new memory surfaced.

When I looked to Azrael for some kind of answer, he just shrugged and let out a mocking laugh.

“Well, it’s not my problem anymore.”

“What?”

“I opened the Ark with the Key. The rest is, well, your business. My stew’s going to reduce to nothing if I don’t get back, so if you’ll excuse me.”

I watched Azrael stroll away without a care in the world, briefly considered crushing his skull, then let out a sigh and gave up the thought.

There wasn’t a moment to spare. I activated Current Sense to search for Sharmia, who was stuck somewhere out there.

[Blood, spreading, east, there.]

[—Wait, here, monster, blood, dying.]

“…?”

Dozens of times more precisely than before.

…I was beginning to understand the language of the Deep Sea Creatures.

***

Deep Sea Creatures or not, the most important thing right now was Sharmia.

When I sprinted with everything I had toward where she was, I made it in time, thankfully.

Sharmia had her head bowed low, gripping a dagger.

In front of her lay the corpse of a Knight… or something close to one.

…Was I too late?

“I, I can’t do it…”

Thankfully, I wasn’t too late.

The dagger was plunged into the bare ground. The Knight was merely unconscious, and Sharmia was trembling, lifting her shaking hands to cover her face as tears welled up.

“I just, I can’t…”

“Your Highness.”

This was where it mattered.

I approached slowly, took hold of the back of the Princess’s hand from behind her, and pulled the dagger from the ground.

“…?”

“It seems you have some misunderstanding. Even if you kill this Knight here and now, it would not be murder.”

“Wh-why not?”

“You’re going to erase the memory of it anyway, aren’t you?”

Then, with that hand, I gently pressed the blade against the Knight’s neck.

“Ngh…”

Sharmia resisted with all her strength.

I whispered softly to her, offering my counsel.

“If there’s no memory of the killing, then the killing never happened.”

“…That’s just playing with words.”

“How so?”

“Just because there’s no memory doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Isn’t that exactly the same thing you’re trying to do right now?”

Sharmia, who had been about to argue back, froze with her mouth open.

In the end, erasing memories and running away had been the very purpose she’d set for herself from the beginning. I had merely reminded her of it.

“If the Calamity comes regardless, this Knight will die a far more horrible death. What you would be performing is not murder but mercy, and you’ll forget even that guilt in a single breath.”

“Wh-what do you want from me?”

“It’s simple. I want to help you achieve what you desire.”

I took Sharmia’s hand again and pressed it downward.

She still resisted, but with far less force than before.

“Ngh…”

My logic had persuaded her, at least a little.

Her cowed expression carried a note of resignation. Just as the dagger was about to slide smoothly into the Knight’s neck.

“…I can’t, after all.”

Sharmia twisted her hand free and stopped once more.

“That’s just, too…”

“Too cruel? Keeping them alive is the crueler thing.”

“…”

“I won’t tell you to kill everyone in the world. But surely you can manage to end the life right before your eyes.”

Watching Sharmia tremble, unable to form words, I felt a twinge of pity.

She was still a child. Was it right to mold her into this, just because she happened to possess a power that allowed infinite Regression to the past, the mental fortitude to endure it, and the status of a Princess?

…It wasn’t right, but I couldn’t deny that it was necessary.

I pushed her further.

“If it’s too painful, you may simply leave. I’ll take care of it.”

“…Why are you trying to help me? Didn’t you, didn’t you deceive me?”

“As I said. My purpose is to help you, Your Highness. Whether you want it or not.”

I all but snatched the dagger from her bewildered grasp, leveled it at the Knight’s throat, and offered Sharmia my advice.

“If you don’t wish to watch, you should leave first.”

“…”

She stumbled back a few steps, on the verge of rejecting the scene before her and fleeing, when her lips moved hesitantly, piecing words together.

“I have something I want to ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“…That Knight.”

Sharmia looked down at the Knight with eyes full of compassion.

“She grew up in an Orphanage, was bought by an Assassin, and was taught nothing but how to kill. That’s what I heard. A person crushed under the weight of her sins, with no one to take her in, slowly dying. She confessed it all herself.”

“A sinner who deserves death, then.”

“Yes, a sinner. I know that too… But then, was she born just to suffer?”

“She suffers because she was born. There’s nothing strange about it.”

I explained to her, gently and carefully.

“On the way here, you saw the children begging in the streets. Could you find even a fragment of happiness in their lives?”

“…No.”

“This Knight isn’t special. For the vast majority, to be born and to live is nothing more than suffering. And for most, it ends in misery. Do you understand?”

A long silence passed.

Sharmia stared down at the Knight’s face for a long, long time.

As if, lost in some deep thought.

I had to cajole the Princess however I could, to turn her into something out of her right mind, an angel who would make sound judgments and fight tooth and nail to save everyone.

But…

What emerged from that prolonged deliberation was something I couldn’t comprehend at all.

“Can’t we postpone it?”

“Pardon?”

Postpone. Death?

I struggled to understand what she was saying. Even knowing how sharp Sharmia was, it made no sense.

But Sharmia, in complete earnestness.

And in quiet composure, met my gaze.

“What if, they were raised like livestock?”

“…”

“If an equal end comes for everyone anyway, then as long as that fact is kept hidden, I can use the future I know to make them happy.”

Listening to the words she laid out, I realized something.

I had been making a grave mistake.

The present Sharmia, the current Sharmia, and the future Sharmia who had joined the Crimson Circle.

I had assumed they were all practically different people, thinking different thoughts, acting in different ways.

Even in this very moment, I didn’t think that assumption was wrong. Memories, after all, made up the greater part of who a person was.

But.

In the end, the essence was one and the same.

“In the final moment, when they can no longer run, when they can’t hold even a shred of hope against the end bearing down on them.”

Watching Sharmia’s eyes begin to glitter as if gazing at an impossible dream, I quietly trembled.

Sharmia hadn’t joined the Crimson Circle because of some shift in emotion.

“What if, at that moment, everything that was postponed is finished all at once?”

From the very beginning.

…No.

From today, from this very moment.

She had thought it all through.