The Dream Is Over

"Aeti, where are you?"

He called her name.

The spacious castle of Tuldarr was formed entirely of cold stone. The

people who walked its halls were like crafted dolls. No one turned to look at

him. They didn't see him.

With one exception—her.

"Aeti?"

Lanak peeked into an alabaster hall. There was the girl who would be

his bride, standing in the middle of an empty room.

Her slender arms were outstretched, and a finely woven spell burst forth

like a flower blooming. Suddenly, it expanded to fill the entire chamber, and

Lanak was struck breathless.

The spell was intricate and expansive, the height of craftsmanship.

No matter how Lanak stared, he couldn't understand it. He couldn't

parse it. Her power far outstripped his.

It was all he could do to stand there in shock. Finally, she noticed he was

there and turned around, giving him a sweet smile. "What is it, Lanak?"

"…Aeti."

Lanak had come because he wanted to see her. In this cold and quiet

castle, she was his only friend and ally.

His teachers had appeared unenthusiastic for a while now. After many

days of feeling stifled, wondering what had changed, he learned that her

tutors had all gone.

That's why he'd wanted to see her. He'd planned to comfort her and tell

her that he'd be the one to stick with her no matter how lonely she was.

But now…he knew.

Her power was the reason she was lonely. No one could teach her

anything. That was why her tutors left, and it was also why everyone lost

interest in him.

…She would be the one to inherit the throne of Tuldarr.

Surely everyone was thinking it. This delicate, lonely girl would be the

next queen.

She'd shown up after Lanak, yet at some point she'd far outpaced him.

If that truly came to pass, he would—

"Lanak?"

She was looking at him with her dark eyes. The eyes of the powerful.

The gaze of a pure person who knew nothing.

Lanak swallowed down the bile rising in his throat…and smiled. "It's

nothing, Aeti."

Even so, he was the only one who could protect her. He had to.

She still knew nothing, after all, and she was so alone in this castle.

"…Lanak, wake up."

Her voice was in his ears. She gently shook him awake.

Scenes of the distant past fading before him, Lanak blinked his eyes

open. A woman was staring at him, and he focused on her.

"…Aeti?" he murmured by reflex, and she frowned the littlest bit. Her

face was that of an adult, one he didn't know. He always felt slightly

uncomfortable looking at it. Letting out a deep breath, he straightened his

posture on the throne where he'd dozed off.

"I suppose I was…dreaming," he said.

"What kind of dream?"

"A dream of the past. When you were still a little girl…I think."

He meant when she was still a helpless child. Lanak racked his brain

trying to recall the rest of the memory that was growing hazy with each

passing second.

At his words, the woman merely made a curious expression. "How odd.

Anyway, it's already a new day."

All the preparations had been made for their move to reform the

continent. Emotions ran deep in Lanak's eyes as he looked at the woman.

"It's all thanks to you. Now the land can be at peace. Mages will live their

lives without fear."

Tuldarr had fallen long ago and would never return. There was no point

in reclaiming its throne. That country had not chosen Lanak.

That was why he made a new country for himself. One that would

ensure the oppressed could live peaceful lives in the future.

The witch, once a little girl, narrowed her eyes as she smiled. "If that is

what you wish."

If not for her, Lanak's ideas wouldn't have become reality. She had the

power to change all his visions into something real. That was the one thing

he hadn't obtained, no matter how hard he'd wished—

"…Aeti."

"Yes?"

The low timbre of his whispered call was answered quite innocently.

Her reply brought him back to himself. He didn't know what he'd been

thinking or what he was trying to say. Something bitter had been spreading

inside his heart. That much he was sure of.

"I'll protect you, Aeti," Lanak said, as much to remind himself as the

woman.

Now that she'd been reduced to a witch, he would protect her from

others. He had to. She was now a wretched creature, shunned and despised

by all.

Lanak nodded with satisfaction at his own answer.

However, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to fully go away.

Nearly fifty thousand troops gathered from the Four Great Nations

teleported to a fortress to the west of Tayiri.

The number might've seemed excessive considering they were only

going up against a few hundred Cuscull mages, but when faced with an

opponent of unknown strength, it felt necessary.

Oscar had successfully coerced the full story out of Reust and was livid

to discover that the Tayiri prince had been so easily manipulated into

wasting time. The day the witch had asked Reust to wait for was the

following day. The only hope now was to move out immediately in the

hope of catching Cuscull before its mages could enact whatever plan they'd

concocted.

At sunset, Oscar, still fuming, met with the generals at the gates of the

fortress. They discussed their marching route for the next day. During the

meeting, Oscar glanced up and happened to spy Sylvia running toward him.

Panting and gasping, she hurried to her king's side and delivered a report.

"Your Majesty, the scouts recovered a civilian girl. Apparently, she was

attacked by the mages on the road leading from here to Cuscull. Everyone's

gathering in the council room right now. You should come, too."

The girl's name was Luly.

She survived the burning of her village that sat near the Cuscull border.

A kindly mage living secluded in the woods had taken her in, but the two

had been separated after nearly being discovered by Cuscull forces. She

was found by the enemy as she made her way to the fortress, and they gave

chase. Oscar found himself deeply impressed as he listened intently to the

tale on his way to the council room.

"I can't believe she's unhurt after all that."

"Perhaps the Cuscull pursuers were merciful because she's a child. In

any case, you should hear it directly from her."

When they reached the council room, Sylvia opened the door for her

king. Oscar entered and joined a number of other royals and commanders

from other countries.

Encircled by these powerful people was the young girl. Immediately, her

eyes lit up as they fixed themselves on Oscar. "It's the prince! You're really

here!"

"…I'm not a prince…," Oscar muttered out of habit but then decided it

wasn't worth making a point of.

The girl had evidently heard his whispering, however. "Yes, you are!

She showed me. She said you were really strong!"

"Showed you? Who showed you?"

"The lady who saved me from the bad magicians. She was really pretty.

I couldn't stop crying, so she told me all kinds of stories. She showed me

lots of stuff. She put her hand on my forehead, and I could see all these

scenes like they were really happening."

It was a childish explanation, but a bell began to ring in Oscar's mind.

He sank to his knees and looked the child square in the eye. "Did she have

black hair?"

"Yeah. And black eyes. With no light at all, like nighttime."

He'd expected that answer and let out a little sigh. "Damn that elusive

woman…"

Standing back up, he placed a hand on top of the thoroughly exhaustedlooking little girl's head.

She'd been chased by mages, saved by a witch, and found on a prairie

an hour's ride from the fortress.

The troops departed at dawn and paused their march almost immediately

to send out mages as scouts. They couldn't afford to walk right into a trap

like what'd happened on the Asdra Plains.

Before long, the mages returned and expressed that nothing seemed

peculiar or amiss.

Doan was one of the scouts, and Oscar gestured for him to come speak

privately outside the tent.

"Is that true?" Oscar asked. "Nothing?"

"Actually, we could sense some faint magic in the vicinity but didn't

detect any spells. That said…if Miss Tinasha set a spell, I don't think any of

us would've been able to sense it anyway," Doan replied.

"I see. I thought so," said Oscar.

The others were wrapping up their discussion, having decided to press

on straight through. If they detoured now, they wouldn't be able to cross

into Cuscull on the same day. Even if it was a trap, the best course was

moving straight ahead.

As Oscar was deliberating over the situation, a young woman piped up

from behind him. "I do wish you keep moving after asking me for a favor."

"…Here's just the person I was looking for," Oscar said, turning around

to find the Witch of the Forbidden Forest pouting.

Hands on her hips, Lucrezia glared at Oscar. "I went to look at all the

towns and cities! It was a lot of trouble, you know!"

"Sorry. So what did you find?"

Passing soldiers and commanders glanced over with interest at the

beautiful lady having a hushed conversation with the king of Farsas. Oscar

and Lucrezia continued undaunted, though.

"A bit of this, a bit of that," she answered. "It certainly looks like our

girl has done something extraordinary. While the citizens appear to have

vanished, she's actually just delayed their time to the extreme and placed

them in a pseudo time-suspended state. On top of that, she's put up a

defensive barrier around them and taken away their sense of awareness.

They aren't gone. They're all still there, even now. Perceptive humans

should be able to sense them."

"Ah, I see…," Oscar said, remembering how Suzuto had reported the

feeling that something was there. Now that Lucrezia had explained it, Oscar

understood the cities were essentially full of invisible, intangible people.

Tinasha had somehow managed this incredible feat across eight cities

simultaneously. He was struck all over again by how fearsome the Witch of

the Azure Moon was.

Full of admiration for Tinasha, the king asked, "Can you undo it?"

"No way, that would be too much work. Besides, she's arranged it so

that it will wear off naturally with the passage of time. It's due to expire in

another hour, in fact," Lucrezia explained.

"Seriously?!"

"Seriously. Okay, I'll be going now."

"Hold on a second."

Lucrezia lifted her arms to teleport away, but Oscar grabbed one. She

gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm sorry, but since you're here, I'd like you to tell me if Tinasha has

cast some sort of magic ahead."

"Why me?"

"No one else can."

Only a fellow witch possessed the skill necessary to detect Tinasha's

spell craft.

Lucrezia retorted coolly, "No matter what's out there, you can't afford

any detours. So it hardly makes a difference. Rest assured, it's not anything

that will kill you." Then she stuck out her tongue. Evidently, she already

knew what sort of spell lay waiting on their path.

Oscar sighed. "So there really is something. Nothing good comes of

having Tinasha for an enemy."

"If you really understood that, you wouldn't have asked me for help.

You've got enough on your plate just dealing with her. If she finds out I was

involved, too, things will only get worse. Do you want to wring your own

neck?"

"I'm not in a position that affords choosiness. For now, I can only deal

with things as they come."

Oscar felt pretty sure he could find a way to silence the other countries.

Lucrezia picked up on his implicit meaning and gazed at him in

astonishment. "Stop acting so inflexible. It'll backfire on you later. If

anything, I'm giving preference to what she wants far more than you are."

"Giving preference? She's acting with total disregard for her own

interests," Oscar shot back.

"Even so, I can't help you more than I have. You'll have to figure

something out on your own," Lucrezia declared. Her words were harsh but

fair. Oscar scowled.

Lucrezia gave him information but refused to get directly involved. That

was her line in the sand. While it looked like she was forsaking Oscar, she

was actually respecting human freedom.

Oscar understood that and nodded, accepting that he wasn't going to get

his way. "Fine. I'll figure something out myself."

"What a good boy you are," teased the grinning witch. Her smile

quickly melted away, however. She turned very serious, far more so than

Oscar had ever seen before. In a low voice, she said, "She won't protect

herself. You must be her shield."

"…I know."

"I'm very glad she has you at this turning point," Lucrezia admitted, a

hazy fondness passing over her amber eyes. The emotion was gone after a

single blink, and Lucrezia smiled as wide as she ever had. "Work hard and

do your best."

After issuing some rather light words of encouragement, she was gone.

Oscar had the distinct feeling that two witches had him in the palms of their

hands. He took a breath to recenter himself, and then he went back into the

tent.

In the end, it was decided that the fifty thousand troops would proceed

as planned along the original route, although they suspected a trap.

In expectation of the worst, the royals and commanders were to all ride

in the very middle of the formation, however. This included Oscar, who let

his other generals lead the march while he surrounded himself with Als,

Meredina, Kumu, Doan, Kav, and Sylvia, among others. As long as he had

them near him, he knew he'd be able to weather whatever happened. Even

if it was a magical trap.

Much to the surprise of many, nothing extraordinary happened during

the first hour of marching. The commanders gradually began to relax in the

face of the uneventful monotony.

As the procession soldiered onward, a messenger came running from a

battalion stationed at the vanguard.

"No matter how far we go, our surroundings stay the same."

Upon hearing that, Kav murmured wonderingly, "Wow… To set up a

blockade of such a huge chunk of space. We had no idea we were going in

circles. Fairies use similar magic in forests a lot, but this might be the first

time in history that one on such a large scale has been accomplished."

More than half of what he said sounded more like a compliment than

anything, and Oscar felt a headache coming on. It was almost as if he could

hear Tinasha shouting Just go around and around in circles, then! at him.

"Her very existence should be illegal." Oscar groaned. "How can we

break the spell?"

"Locating its essence and destroying it is the quickest way out. Judging

from the scope, Miss Tinasha is not actively maintaining it now. She's set

up sigils and something to use as a core to do that for her. That's if we can

find it first—it's impossible to see this spell."

"I can't see it, either," Oscar said.

They were at a complete loss. Privately, Oscar cursed Lucrezia's

heartlessness, though only just a little.

The soldiers had halted, and from Oscar's position in the center of the

march, they seemed to be in quite the disarray. He looked around and saw

that the generals, royals, and aides-de-camp were trading information and

ideas on how best to escape their trap. His eyes caught sight of Reust, and

Oscar made a sour face.

It was all because of Reust's time wasting that things had gotten this bad

in the first place. Oscar felt a fresh wave of irritation threaten an angry

outburst.

Just as Oscar bit it back…a guest arrived.

It was a man clad in black mage's robes. He materialized in the midst of

the crowd without any forewarning, and as everyone's heads began to turn,

he bent one knee and made a sweeping bow. In a full, ringing voice, he

greeted the army with all due formality.

"I believe this is our first time meeting. I am the chief mage of Cuscull,

Bardalos."

"Wha—?"

Immediately, several soldiers drew their swords. In an instant, the air

was crackling with tension, and Bardalos gave an exaggerated shrug. "Ah,

don't be too hasty. If you kill me, you'll never get out of here. This is a fine

work of art crafted by the bride of our very own king. I doubt you'll be able

to get out now that you're inside it."

"You clown… What have you come here for?" spat out a Cezar general.

Bardalos only smiled at the attempted intimidation. He answered with

theatrical flourish, as if reveling in his assigned role. "On this fine day, you

are all bravely gathered here to make an offer of subordination to Cuscull. I

am most extremely and humbly delighted. I would be thrilled to allow you

the chance to witness our king's great act of bringing the entire mainland

under his control. If I may be so bold as to escort you…"

Bardalos wheeled around to take in everyone surrounding him.

"However, I'm afraid that I am unable to invite each and every one of

you. We do have limited seating. That said… Yes, I do believe we have

room for those of you who are here in this vicinity."

"Who would go along with that?!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself!"

Angry cries rose in reply to Bardalos's arrogant invitation. The man paid

them no mind, a masklike smile painted on his face.

Akashia in hand, Oscar stepped forward. "Fine. Take me."

"Your Majesty?!" shrieked Kumu. At once, Bardalos flashed Oscar a

pleased grin. He spread his arms wide, black robes billowing. A

complicated spell appeared before him.

"Of course, I can take you… But all the rest must go as well. No one has

the luxury of saying no. I'm afraid I rather need you as an audience. After

all, you're—"

The transportation array activated. The gate widened to encompass

around fifty people, with Bardalos at the center. Screams and shouts of

fright filled the air, muffling the latter half of Bardalos's sentence.

"—to be the bride's hostages."

Bardalos sneered ominously.

The transportation spell brought them to the middle of a huge, open

wasteland.

Gritty, sandy air whipped past.

They were standing in the midst of decaying ruins. A round plaza thick

with sand clouds was half-crumbled away, lined with a row of equally

eroded white stone pillars. Much of the stone paving underfoot was cracked

and peeling. Ten steps led up the center of the plaza to a raised section.

Atop that sat an old stone altar and a suspiciously new-looking empty

throne.

Oscar stood in the middle of the plaza, turning to observe everything.

"We've been ambushed, just like they planned," he muttered.

Everything looked peaceful, appearing as some visage from the distant

past. Along the outer edges of the plaza, an arena of circular stone steps

towered over them imperiously. The weathered things looked just like

petrified flower petals.

At present, the many rows of encircling steps were filled with several

hundred Cuscull mages. Their chilling gazes were locked on their newly

arrived guests. Mixed in among them were quite a few strange-looking

creatures, including winged, mid-level demons. Presumably, these had been

summoned and put to work.

Oscar gazed at the crowd calmly, but the others were frozen in place,

whether out of astonishment or fear.

Keeping his eyes forward, Oscar called for one of his confidantes. "Als,

what's your take?"

"Not good. There's way too many of them and way too few of us."

With only fifty on Oscar's side, a head-on battle seemed a poor choice.

Oscar checked on how his other subjects were doing and then drew

Akashia. Pitching his voice so they could hear, he ordered, "I have a

defensive barrier, so don't worry about me. Protect yourselves."

No matter what happened, Oscar knew he would not die so long as

Tinasha was alive. Oscar didn't intend to let his team die, either, however,

and he readjusted his grip on Akashia's hilt.

At that moment, a man appeared at the top of the central stairway,

flanked on either side by other mages.

His white hair caught the eye, and his robes were a magnificent finery

unto themselves. He stepped forward with his retinue trailing in his wake.

Next to the altar, Bardalos bowed to him and gave way.

Oscar fixed his eyes on the newly emerged man. "Lanak…"

When those around Oscar heard his growl, shock crossed their faces.

Lanak was a historical figure from four centuries ago, but here he

supposedly was looking not a day past twenty. With his abnormally pale

hair and skin, it was like he'd walked out of a dream.

Lanak surveyed his audience and smiled. "Welcome to the ruins of

Tuldarr's cathedral."

The involuntary guests all exchanged looks. Ruins of the famed Magic

Empire, a country that prided itself on its exceptional power, had been

sleeping here in silence throughout the centuries. Lanak took a seat on the

new throne that rested amid the ruins of a country lost so tragically.

"I've brought you all here today to share a proposal. At our current place

in history, people suffer cruel discrimination and strife. Tayiri, the foremost

enemy of our nation, is the greatest example of this. Their god is unfair and

fickle. His power does not reach you. Such is why people murder one

another. Whether it be hate or love, they kill."

Lanak's voice was even, bereft of both sternness and compassion. The

man appeared to be a doll parroting a learned phrase. His eyes even seemed

to be made of glass as he cast them down. "But we can put an end to that.

No more fighting. That will be the rule. Anyone who can't abide by it will

be punished immediately, no matter where they are on the mainland… I

have the power to enforce this."

"What?" Oscar cried without thinking. Many others were left

speechless. Surely some of them doubted Lanak's sanity. What he said was

tantamount to declaring his own divinity.

Suspicion flickered in the eyes of some of the guests, who suspected

Lanak of deception. The ruler of Cuscull laughed. "I'm sure you know of

the five huge reservoirs of magic known as magical lakes. They are formed

of natural life energy, magic, and the souls of countless humans. Right now,

each one is divided, mindlessly drawing in the life force of its surroundings.

But if we use a spell to connect the lakes into a network, it would form a

giant web across the continent. Once we do that, I'll be able to see

everything that happens right from this very chair. Even the weather will

bend according to my will. Magnificent, don't you agree?"

…Surveillance of the mainland and control of the weather.

It was like some nightmarish future vision. If Tinasha were here, Oscar

knew she'd object.

A vision of her doing just that popped into Oscar's mind, and he let out a

puff of laughter.

"Your Majesty…," Als warned from his spot at Oscar's side.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'll take this seriously."

The magical lakes were formed upon Tuldarr's destruction. Originally,

they were the power that Lanak was supposed to inherit but had proven too

much for him to control. Now he had fashioned a new method of doing so.

The demonic beast incident had taught Oscar about the power of the

magical lakes. Their wild and mighty energy accidentally created that

terrible creature from something never actually meant to be a weapon. If

Lanak could purposely bring all the magical lakes under his control, the

potential he'd possess really would rival a god's.

"He's practically insane for even thinking to try this, though."

No matter how noble Lanak's ideals were, he couldn't be allowed to spy

on the entire mainland. No one knew when his self-righteousness would go

off the rails.

Lanak stood from his throne and smiled. "The spell will take about an

hour. Waiting might bore you, but I do want you to bear witness. This is the

dawn of a new era, after all."

The king of Cuscull made sure his audience gasped in shock before

breaking into a wide grin. "Now then, allow me to introduce my bride. If

not for her, we could have never performed a spell of this magnitude. I'll be

borrowing her power as the catalyst. Aeti, come here."

Lanak waved his right hand, opening a teleportation gate next to him. A

woman emerged with three mage attendants in tow.

She was a resplendently pale creature, signifying to all that she was the

bride in question. Her radiance was such that it made it easy to forget the

dire circumstances at hand.

Her dress was replete with a long train crafted of multiple layers of lace.

Black flowers were strung into her long, ebony hair. Her fine features

would have taken a sculptor a lifetime to re-create, and her dark eyes were

cast downward in melancholy.

Slowly, her lashes lifted and she cast a glance at Lanak. As she did, the

audience gathered at the bottom of the stairs realized who she was and a

frisson of terror ran through the crowd. Two of the three mages at her side

turned pale as well. The one who didn't was a young woman who'd seen

fewer years than her peers.

Bardalos smirked as he took in the bride's expression. A smile on his

face, Lanak inclined his head. "What's wrong, Aeti?"

"Did you undo my spell?"

"I didn't. I helped Bardalos bring them here. I wanted them all to see."

"…Ah," Tinasha said shortly, then turned back to give a reassuring smile

to the attendants that flanked her. She moved to sit down beside Lanak's

throne. Midway through her motion, a rustic chair made of white stone

popped into being to catch her.

Lanak placed a hand on her shoulder. Then he began to chant a slow and

deliberate recitation.

As the sound of his incantation echoed off the ancient ruins, Oscar thought

about what he should do.

There was only one hour until the spell was complete. He had to do

something to stop it soon.

Simply trying to kill Lanak would incur retaliation from the surrounding

Cuscull mages. The other captives would no doubt be dragged into the

fighting, too. Worst of all, the enemy greatly outnumbered them, ensuring

that Oscar's side would lose.

"I just need an opportunity…"

Oscar looked to his shoulder and saw Nark let out a little yawn. He then

turned back to stare at the woman who gave him the dragon. Her dark gaze

had dropped to her feet; she refused to meet anyone's eyes. Oscar wondered

what her goal was in all this.

Pamyra didn't let her inner turmoil show on her face and simply kept a

close watch over her lady.

She'd never thought they'd summon an audience.

The mage couldn't be sure whether that had been Lanak's doing or

Bardalos's, nor did she want to think about how things were going to play

out with this new change to the plan.

"Give me power… Protect us…," Pamyra murmured to herself, praying

to anyone who might be listening.

Lanak's chanting echoed throughout the half-rotted sanctuary.

Four hundred years was a long time.

It was long enough to lose your mind, but Tinasha had overcome that.

For the first century, she hadn't been able to stand to talk to anyone

besides Lucrezia.

Her life had been an endless series of torments, from the loss of her

country to the betrayal of the one she loved most. Even after she'd become

a witch, there were those who still hunted her down, trying to gobble up

everything she had. Tinasha despised everything about those who had let

such terrible things happen to her.

Eventually, she succeeded in locking away her grief and resentment but

gave up on trusting and loving other people in the process. Tinasha feared

her searing hatred would return and bring the world to ruin if she ever dared

to love anyone again.

After the completion of her tower, Tinasha began to grant audiences to

those who overcame its trials. As time went on, she discovered she was

starting to like people a little.

They were interesting.

Fiercely devoted.

She was envious of how their lives soared and dipped so beautifully.

So this is what humans are like, she thought. Why am I different?

How much more time would have to pass before she could die?

Was slowly whittling down her own soul really bringing her closer to

what she wished for?

Life in the tower was peaceful and never changing. She was free and

alone.

Tinasha never found what she was looking for, no matter how long she

looked. Nor did she know why she was searching.

Her time was spent grasping at delusions.

Then it came. At last, she found the person she was searching for.

His humming voice was low and pleasant to listen to.

It was the voice that had often been her lullaby. His presence gave her

the strength to bear her empty childhood. So long as that boy was with her,

she could survive being driven into a detached wing of the castle for her

studies.

It was a sweet voice, one that promised protection.

Tinasha closed her eyes and followed the magic that was being drawn

out of her. She felt the enormous spell Lanak was weaving.

Once it was completed, everything would change. The spell he was

chanting was the beginning of the end.

What she wanted lay just ahead.

The sight of his demolished homeland didn't inspire any longing nostalgia

in Lanak.

In the Dark Age, the Magic Empire spanned a large territory, yet was

also impenetrable by other countries. The king at its head commanded

multiple high-ranking demons, any one of which could decimate an army.

Lanak had once believed in the future that ancient Tuldarr envisioned. He

had vowed to see it done.

All those feelings for his nation had died out at some point, however.

Perhaps they'd vanished when he realized he was not to be chosen as ruler,

or perhaps it was when Tuldarr fell. Even Lanak couldn't remember

anymore.

A long sleep had worn his heart and mind thin. Even his very

surroundings felt veiled and unreal as he sat on his throne. His one grip on

reality remained the warmth he could feel coming off the witch he was

clutching. He steadied his breathing and carefully wove together the words

of the spell.

"Silence drifting on a sea of grief. Countless outstretched hands choose

me. Neither morning nor night. Their eyes are everywhere."

Borrowing from Tinasha's inexhaustible wellspring of magic, Lanak

crafted the spell by tying together strands of her power. As small spells

threaded together, the creation turned massive.

At the same time, he reached out across the continent toward the five

magical lakes, grasping and linking them. The growing spell sucked up

even more magic from the lakes and urged them into harmony with one

another. Quickly, Lanak's conjuration began to extend out to every coast.

Huge amounts of force pulsed and coursed, and winds began to eddy and

swirl very slowly in the ruins.

Amid the growing storms, Lanak's voice crackled like thunder.

"I command the first lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I

command you under the name Compassion, which brought you into being.

Your location shall be daybreak."

…Lanak suddenly found himself wondering what he'd do once this was

over.

He'd only ever thought to control the land through magic. He hadn't

considered what to do after. He glanced at Tinasha, who was still sitting

next to him.

Perhaps he'd build her a mansion here. A place where she could live in

peace. She used to love her birth country. Surely that hadn't changed. Lanak

wanted to grant her the relaxing days she deserved. He wanted to free her

from her duties and loneliness.

"I command the second lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I

command you under the name Jealousy, which brought you into being. Your

location shall be morning."

Magic of this scale had never been seen in all of recorded history. The

ceremony required scrupulous care. There was meaning in taking the

trouble to do so, however. Once completed, there would never again be war.

People, no matter who they were, would gain the right to live their lives.

When he thought about it that way, even his long years of sleep seemed

worthwhile.

"I command the third lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I

command you under the name Denial, which brought you into being. Your

location shall be noon."

At the moment, Lanak had no complaints about taking the throne.

If there was one regret he truly had, it was that he couldn't quite recall

the sort of person he was in the past. He didn't know what he loved, what

he hated, or why he committed such a terrible act against Tinasha. He was

still the same person, but his own self felt formless and unmolded.

"I command the fourth lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I

command you under the name Longing, which brought you into being. Your

location shall be twilight."

When he thought of the past, the first thing to come to mind was always

her as a lovely young girl. In his memories, she was always blushing shyly.

He had to protect her. She existed solely for him to protect.

"I command the final lake that was born. I am the one who defines. I

command you under the name Hatred, which brought you into being. Your

location shall be midnight."

Why had he lived for four hundred years? Why hadn't he died?

He didn't know what he'd been thinking, putting himself into a magical

sleep, but suspected it was so he could see her again.

Calm feelings surging within him, Lanak gazed down at his bride.

She was staring up at him and perhaps had been for some time.

There was a challenging glint in her dark eyes.

For some reason, that look made him flinch and recoil.

A sneaking feeling began to grow.

He stopped chanting.

A smile flickered across Tinasha's face.

Lanak had never seen her make such an expression before.

Cuscull mages were abuzz with speculation as they watched the king's

bride suddenly stand up.

She brushed Lanak's hand from her shoulder. He stumbled back several

steps.

"Aeti, what are you…?"

The witch offered no answer. With a radiant smile, she faced him. More

specifically, she turned toward the spell configuration he had created. With

elegance, she extended a hand.

"Come."

In answer to her command, the enormous configuration rushed to her.

The winds swirling around the ruins dispersed at this new interference.

Struck dumb, Lanak tried to stop the spell from going to her. He stared

at the woman, thoroughly stunned.

"What are you doing?" Lanak asked. "This is—"

With a snort, the woman took in her surroundings

She gazed at the ruins of her fallen country with an overwhelming sense

of wistful longing.

"It's been so long…"

Her clear, lovely voice resounded far and wide.

She beamed at Lanak with a smile so beautiful that anyone in the world

would've found themselves entranced by it.

"I've been searching for you forever… I really wanted to see you; I

missed you. When we met again, I was so happy I could cry."

In her eyes shone honest admiration for Lanak. It was a look not unlike

that of love, though not quite the same.

Under her slender fingers, Lanak's complex spell array wavered even

more, jerking toward her. From her petal-shaped lips fell a whisper imbued

with trembling ardor. "I really needed you… What I truly wanted…was the

names of the lakes that only you, as the caster, knew."

The woman's smile twisted, and suddenly she was someone new.

In an instant, she changed from adorable young girl to powerful victor.

Her grin was bewitching and cruel.

Lanak felt the abyss within her seize hold of him.

"I can finally set free the bound souls of the people you killed four

hundred years ago—all those poor people who melted into the magical

lakes."

A proclamation from the distant past echoed. It spoke of a wish that had

survived the passing centuries.

Finally, signs of dawning comprehension showed on Lanak's face.

The witch extended her pale ivory arms wide.

"Come to me."

The spell was drawn into her arms. Lanak desperately tried to stop it, but

it was wrested from his hands and quickly fell under the woman's sway.

With a sweet, beatific smile, she poured magic into the complex array,

resetting it.

At an incredible speed, the witch transmuted the spell from one that

would control the magical lakes…into one that would dismantle and divert

them.

"Aeti, you…"

Lanak had lost all thought. All that remained in his mind were his few

feeble memories.

She should have been the person he needed to protect.

Once she was a weak, lonely little girl, but now she was a feared and

hated witch. She couldn't survive without him. He had to ensure her safety.

Letting her overpower him…was unacceptable.

Lanak was waking from his long sleep. Fury and hatred blotted out the

dreaming persona. Arising to replace it were the emotions that had been

previously frozen dead within him, feelings from a time long since

destroyed.

The violent, indelible passion that had led Lanak to slice open a poor

girl was now surging back to life.

"Aeti… Would you betray me again?"

"Betray you? The reason I am still alive today was all for this moment,"

the witch declared.

"Now, let the atonement begin!"

Her roaring declaration was a link between the past and the present.

Furious heat boiled in Lanak. Four hundred years later, this woman was

still getting in his way.

"Why, you… I won't allow it!"

Furious, Lanak prepared a spell to attack, but Tinasha effortlessly lifted

a hand and diffused it. Furious at the counter maneuver, Lanak barked, "Kill

this woman! …No, neutralize her! Cut off her limbs for all I care!"

Tinasha watched Lanak's pale face contort with hideous fury as she

leaped back a few paces. With a nasty sneer, she cooed, "It's been a long

time since I've seen you look like that. You're the spitting image of the man

you used to be. Does that mean you've finally woken up?"

"You've got a big mouth for a little brat!" Lanak spat acidly.

Renart and Pamyra hurried to Tinasha's side. She glanced at them, then

snapped her fingers. Pieces of obsidian appeared, floating in the air all

around her. With the same motion, Tinasha pointed at the captured audience

still standing at the base of the stairway. Forty of the dark, glassy stones

winked out and reappeared in a pattern around the group, forming a barrier.

"Ahhh… I knew it!" Pamyra cried in consternation, and Renart sighed.

The stones were infused with spells originally meant to form a protective

barrier around Tinasha. Despite her power, she still required concentration

for the incantation to divert the five magical lakes. That was why she

needed a barrier that could protect Oscar and the others during the

intervening time. Both Pamyra and Renart knew, however, that Tinasha was

protecting the captives at the expense of guarding herself.

"Go!" the witch hissed to her two loyal attendants.

Fending off the hail of offensive spells that came barreling downward

from every direction, Pamyra and Renart both turned down the command.

"No!"

"I refuse."

Lanak's huge spell had already activated, synchronizing the magical

lakes. If Tinasha relinquished now, a storm of magical power worse than

when Tuldarr was destroyed would carve its way across the land. The only

hope was to reset the spell and divert the magical lakes. Tinasha was the

only person capable of such a feat.

Guarding their lady, Pamyra and Renart retaliated against Lanak's

closest followers. The man himself fell back behind a row of his supporters

and was still clearly enraged. Evidently, he didn't want to expend his own

magic.

Without an incantation, Renart summoned up a blade of wind. It mowed

down two mages still in the middle of chanting. Pamyra was about to give

pursuit when she sensed something and threw up a defensive shield at

Renart's side. Black flames battered against it.

"Ngh! Damn you…!"

The attack was more intense than she'd anticipated, forcing Pamyra to

devote all her strength into fortifying the shield. She stumbled a few steps

back and glared at the source of the strike.

It was the mad mage Bardalos, standing there with a look of unmitigated

glee. "So you really did betray us! How hilarious!"

Bardalos loosed another wave of dark fire. This time, he aimed for the

witch, who was still deep in the middle of her diversion spell. Renart

hurried to block it, but a second spell came hurtling toward him and rooted

his feet to the ground.

"Lady Tinasha!" Pamyra screamed, afraid that Bardalos's attack would

reach the witch.

Much to her relief and surprise, however, the shadowy tongues of fire

never knew the taste of Tinasha's flesh.

Looking slightly put out, Tinasha glared up at the man who had leaped

to protect her.

"You really need to learn how to ask me for help," he drawled.

Before Tinasha stood the one man who could kill her.

As Oscar was eyeing the situation at the base of the steps, Als came running

up to him, hacking his way through Cuscull soldiers along the way. Doan

and the other mages intermittently stepped outside the barrier to return fire

against the enemy mages. Nark swelled in size and engaged in an aerial

battle against five demons.

Of those fifty who'd been kidnapped via teleport, close to half managed

to grasp the situation and spring into action. Some even dared to push past

Tinasha's shield. They charged forward to protect the witch, recognizing

that she was key to their survival. Others climbed the stone steps in an

attempt to reach the throne.

As things quickly devolved into a free-for-all, Bardalos hurled a spear of

light toward the man who'd stood himself in front of the witch. The magic

pole arm merely struck Oscar's barrier and shattered.

"What?!" Bardalos exclaimed in shock. Oscar cast a knowing glance

back at Tinasha. She returned the look while still working on Lanak's spell.

…He's here. He actually came.

Just knowing that was enough to fill her with a curious feeling of

reassurance. The back of her throat grew hot.

"What do you want me to do?" Oscar asked, and Tinasha looked down

and ran some calculations. It was going to take her thirty minutes to finish

reciting the spell. She wasn't sure she'd be able to last that long amid the

current chaotic situation. Even if she did, there was still a chance of

catastrophic damage.

Tinasha looked back up at Oscar. Her dark eyes glowed with a light that

Oscar knew very well.

"Give me as much time as you can."

"As you wish," he replied immediately. Tinasha nodded.

Then she began the new incantation that would overturn everything.

Positioning himself in front of Tinasha, Oscar prepared to square off against

Bardalos. The mad mage grinned with delight. "The swordsman of Akashia,

eh? Heard a lot of legends. Wonder how much is true."

"Hmm? I don't care," Oscar spat out and advanced on Bardalos. The

other man had been expecting that, however, and aimed a sickle of flames at

Oscar's feet.

Dodging it would risk the spell hitting Tinasha behind him. Instead,

Oscar brought down his sword and smashed Bardalos's magic apart.

Akashia scattered the flames, leaving only black scorch marks on the stone.

Bardalos licked his lips. "You're pretty good with that. I thought you

were just a foolish swordsman who'd let the barrier do all the work."

"I don't want to make any trouble for her—that's all," Oscar shot back.

The defensive barrier was linked to Tinasha. Oscar wasn't sure what was

going to happen as she completed her spell. As such, he wanted to make

certain that he didn't drain her power unnecessarily.

Bardalos sneered as the king again fended off the magic rushing at him

with a single sweep of Akashia. "It'll be interesting to see how long you can

keep that up. You might even die without ever moving a single step from

where you stand. That sure would be a shame. My first audience with the

Mage Killer is certainly turning out to be rather disappointing."

"Sorry to say, but my merciless teacher gave me one hell of a training

regimen. I promise you won't be disappointed, though I can't promise your

survival."

"Bold words. I hope you have the strength to back them up," Bardalos

sneered. With an arcane motion, he summoned up some two dozen fireballs

that floated in midair.

A swordsman who kept his distance would soon find himself battered by

a volley of ranged attacks. While this upstart king possessed a legendarily

dangerous weapon, Bardalos believed there was nothing to fear so long as

the sword never touched him. In his mind, the battle was already over—and

he had won.

"Go on—burn to cinders," he cried with glee, commanding a flurry of

fireballs down on Oscar. With one eye on his burning storm, Bardalos lifted

his right hand to cast his next spell. He believed wholeheartedly in his own

dominance, but then his eyes widened.

"Die."

Unbelievable speed, unbelievable distance. A drawn sword glittered

before his eyes like a polished mirror.

All of Bardalos's thoughts ended there. In one motion, Oscar had

cleaved through the foul man's magical defenses and his neck.

Many of the Cuscull mages began to lose their will to fight after seeing

their chief mage meet his end in a flashy spray of blood.

Behind them, Lanak continued to rage. "Summon more demons! Kill

them!" he howled.

At this royal decree, the mages on the outermost stone steps began

summoning incantations. A mage near the throne began the same sort of

spell, but Als came leaping up and quickly struck that person down. With

Pamyra and Renart in the fray as well, Lanak's forces were quickly losing

control of the platform with the throne.

To compensate, more and more of the mages who'd been in the outer

ring teleported into the center. The occasional demon came with them, too.

"That can't be true! There's no way Lady Aeterna would betray us!"

rose Tris's voice above the melee.

She couldn't bring herself to attack Tinasha, but neither could she

defend her like Pamyra and Renart. Unsure and unwilling, she simply stood

stock-still in disbelief. As other Cuscull mages teleported to the center of

the fight, she was pushed to the back.

Tris's childhood dreams were dying before her very eyes, and it seemed

that everyone was content not to help. Only power and blood mattered on

the battlefield. Finally, Tris tore her tear-filled eyes away from the spectacle

and ran off. Tears trailing behind her, she vanished into the wilderness. A

Cuscull mage who noticed the fleeing girl raised a hand to send a fire arrow

after her.

Meredina's sword bit into the caster and stopped the spell before it

began, however. Protected by a barrier made by Doan and Kav, she slashed

her way through the outer stone steps. As she pressed on through the crowd,

someone threw a ball of light in her face.

"What in the—?!"

Closing one eye reflexively, Meredina slashed blindly with her blade in

an attempt to hack through the spell. Before her sword made contact, the

incoming magical attack simply bounced off the protections that her friends

had placed on her.

"Stop acting like His Majesty. You can't cut through magic with a

normal sword," Doan reminded her, appalled, as he hurled a small lightning

bolt at some Cuscull mages.

"Wasn't it better than doing nothing?" she snapped back.

Meredina came in from the left. With a practiced motion, she severed

the arm of a mage that'd been attempting to protect himself with lightning.

He collapsed to the ground with a shriek, and Meredina continued to move

forward.

From behind, Doan calmly cautioned, "You're going a little too fast.

Slow down."

Meredina shrugged and took two steps back, only to meet the sharp

claws of a lizardman's swipe. A terrible, metallic screech rang out in the

arena. She exchanged three blows with the creature before plunging her

sword into its scaly chest.

Another lizard tried to grab her sword, but a Cezar general cut it down

from behind. Meredina pulled the blade out and nodded at the general, who

gave a casual wave back.

Sword in hand in the middle of the battlefield, Reust looked at the dauntless

Farsasian crew and bit back a sigh.

He had a habit of losing track of time during fights. One moment would

pass in a flash, and the next seemed to lag. It was like wandering endlessly

through a fog with no clear exit.

As he crossed swords with a wave of advancing demons, he looked up at

the witch on the stone platform. Even at this distance, her white dress made

her easy to spot.

She seemed just as beautiful as ever, even as she chanted her spell. Reust

was so caught up in looking at the lovely lines of her face that a small

magic spear grazed his shoulder. When he looked to see who had thrown it,

he saw a very young mage—a boy, really—scowling at him with fear and

hatred.

"Die! Rot in hell, you monster!"

The bitter cry was unmistakably meant for Reust alone.

Tayiri had built up this hatred over the centuries. Seeing it right before

him in the flesh took his breath away.

The boy sketched a rough spell array, then hurled it at Reust. It became a

fireball as it arced through the air, leaving a trail of flames in its wake.

Faced with a literal burning manifestation of anger, Reust choked out, "Is

this the result of Tayiri's sin…?"

It was indeed a terrible thing to deny others the very right to live as

human beings.

Both sides had been born with a twisted resentment of each other.

Had the day come for that to end? Was an end even possible?

Reust closed his eyes, ready to accept what came. Before the fireball

could consume him, it was dispelled. Whirling around, Reust saw a mage of

Farsas who waved him off casually.

"Save the deep thoughts for after this is over, Your Majesty. Right now,

our priority is surviving."

"…Got it," Reust answered curtly, though not without sincerity.

Tamping down the bitterness rooted in his heart, he strode up to the mage

boy. As the little magic user hurried to prepare another spell, Reust drove an

elbow into his stomach. He supported the buckling boy, gently laying him

down on the ground. The time to think would come later; for now, Reust

knew he had to keep his head up high.

He raised his sword, ready to engage his next opponent.

A winged demon swooped down upon the witch with its claws outstretched.

A burst of fire rose to meet it, however. Hurling attacks as they dashed up

the stone stairs, Sylvia and Kumu finally reached the top and rushed over to

Tinasha. Although she was in the middle of her long incantation, she

acknowledged the pair with a smile.

Overcome with joy that Tinasha was still her old self, Sylvia nearly

broke down in tears. "We'll protect you. I promise!" She then began to

chant a spell. "O midday star, o nighttime flower. O thing that cannot be

seen, breathe. Spiral up."

It was a rather elementary spell that induced sleep. However, in the

hands of Sylvia, a court mage, the effect was strengthened to a degree one

could only describe as bizarre. Ordinarily, the spell wouldn't have affected

other magic users very much. That was why the Cuscull mages chose to

ignore it. This complacency proved to be their undoing as one by one they

began to stumble and fall.

Next to her, Kumu took point in front of the witch so that Oscar could

enter the fray. He put up a defensive barrier and listened to the witch's

incantation more closely.

"…A double incantation?!" Kumu yelped in surprise before he could

stop himself, and all the mages around him turned their heads. The shock on

their faces meant that they'd realized it, too.

A double incantation was an old, high-grade magical art that had died

with Tuldarr.

According to the records, by using one incantation to create two spell

configurations, two types of magic could be utilized at the same time.

Doing so unfortunately required more than just the power to cast each spell

individually, making double incantations one of the most advanced magical

arts ever devised. Tinasha's usage of this now meant that she was preparing

to cast something besides her spell to divert the power of the magical lakes.

"And not only that…"

When Kumu realized what the second spell was, he gasped and fell

silent. Pamyra had come up to him, and she finished his sentence. "This

is…from Tuldarr's coronation ceremony…"

As if in response, the witch stretched out her right hand, palm facing

downward.

A white glowing circle of light appeared around her. It rapidly

expanded, stopping at the edge of the stone stairs. Lanak saw it from his

position in the air above the fray, and he seethed with fury.

"Aeti! How much further will you go to mock me?!"

Tinasha offered no answer.

Dozens of white, glowing spell patterns rose up within the great ring. A

huge light erupted from what would've been the one o'clock position had

the spell array been a clock. Soon after, a similar luminous burst appeared at

the two o'clock position, then three, and so on.

Powerful lights glowed in sequence until finally the twelve o'clock

position blazed to life.

Perched from a high vantage point, Doan beheld the incredible display

and muttered, "Could that be Tuldarr's…? Wait, twelve? All of them? She

can't be serious."

Brandishing Akashia against multiple demons, Oscar slashed apart the

torso of a lizardman who leaped at him. He snapped the weapon to shake

blood from its blade, then looked over his shoulder.

He caught sight of the witch and grinned. "Has enough time passed yet?

What are you gonna show us?"

Combatants on both sides chanced glances at the witch. An unbelievable

amount of magic had gathered around her.

This was when she showed what a witch was truly made of. Everyone

could feel in their bones that this was going to be a turning point in history.

Tinasha paused in her chanting and began to issue some sort of decree.

Her voice rang out sonorously across the battlefield.

"Appear, spirits bound to Tuldarr by an ancient contract! My name is

Tinasha As Meyer Ur Aeterna Tuldarr! I am your regent, and by this

proclamation, you are defined… Come to me!"

All was lost to a blinding explosion of white.

A violent torrent of power came rolling in. Sandy winds buffeted those

still standing.

The air changed. A stream of alternating hot and cold winds rushed in.

When the dust settled—Tuldarr's twelve hereditary spirits had appeared.

The beings known as the spirits of Tuldarr were legends spoken of in

magical history. They were high-ranking demons that the first king of

Tuldarr had summoned and bound to the nation. At the time a new regent

was crowned, one to three of them—based on the regent's magical abilities

—would be selected and put to use.

History had taught many that it was impossible for any ruler of Tuldarr

to control multiple high-ranking demons at once.

Tinasha's calling of all twelve seemed akin to lunacy, yet it was

happening before every nonbeliever's eyes.

The high-ranking demons stood above the circle. One of them, a man

with vermilion hair, said in a leisurely tone, "It's been so, so long since I

last made myself known."

"Oh? I hadn't gotten enough sleep yet…," another complained.

"Hey, the country's in ruins."

"Well, anything humans create is fragile."

As the demons started to chat with one other, the humans all around

gaped in shock. Some of the demons looked elderly, while others appeared

as young men and women. One or two even resembled children. Whatever

their appearance, it was clear that none were truly human. Their deep

crimson hair and aloof, intimidating airs betrayed their true natures.

If left to their own devices, they seemed liable to chat among themselves

forever, but a word from the witch shut them up.

"I order…"

At that, all the spirits knelt down. The old, white-haired one at the

twelve o'clock position spoke for its peers with a dignified tone. "Our

master. What is your order?"

"Annihilate the enemies. Leave those who do not show hostility

unharmed. Avoid killing if you can."

"We understand."

Their directive clear, the twelve rose to their feet. A few of them had

their eyes closed, yet others were openly smirking. The vermilion-haired

spirit appeared to be familiar with Tinasha and teased, "You're all grown up

but still such a naive little girl."

"Just do it," Tinasha commanded, waving a hand at them dismissively,

and they scattered.

Instantly, the nearly one hundred demons the Cuscull mages had

summoned all vanished.

The appearance of the spirits was enough to sap any remaining desire to

fight from Lanak's forces. Terrified of such a supernatural power, they

either surrendered or fled the scene.

Now free of opposition, the witch resumed her first incantation. All

anyone could do was watch the huge, intricately woven spell as it grew to

exceed all human limitations.

Just like that, the battle was over. Lanak turned tail and ran through the

ruins of the country he'd destroyed, panting all the while.

Gradually, the tumult grew distant. He tried to teleport away but found

concentration extremely difficult. Whether it was due to exhaustion from

the spell he'd created using Tinasha as a catalyst or more deep-set damage

from his long stasis was anyone's guess. Either way, his body's magic was

in tatters.

Lanak growled, the taste of fresh blood in his mouth. "Aeti…

Aeterna…"

All he did was repeat her name. It was impossible to say now whether

the word was spiked with hatred or something else entirely.

Over and over, Lanak repeated the name, as if calling it was the only

thing still anchoring him in this world. A cloud of sand rolled by and

engulfed the pale man.

Suddenly, Lanak's surroundings grew terribly dark. He looked up to see

a red dragon circling overhead. After catching sight of Lanak, the great

beast started into a descent. A man leaped off its back.

Amid the grit, Lanak spied a double-edged sword that'd been polished

to a mirrorlike sheen. He knew it well; the weapon was the only one of its

kind in all the land.

The man who'd leaped from the dragon was blocking Lanak's way.

Doing his best to remain calm, Lanak called, "Hello. We meet again, I see. I

believe the outcome of our little skirmish is already decided, so what are

you here for?"

"Oh, nothing. I just had something to ask you," Oscar replied,

readjusting his grip on Akashia's hilt. His handsome features were

emotionless, but an angry fire burned in his eyes.

"What could you possibly want from me? If there's anything you want

to know, you should ask Aeterna, not me."

Much like what had transpired in today's battle, Lanak was sure that

Tinasha understood more than he ever had. He was the only one who'd

been clueless.

"Aeti knows everything. Take pity on me. We were both potential rulers

of Tuldarr, but I wasn't powerful enough."

Lanak wished she'd stayed as the little girl he only had to protect. She

was supposed to marry him; that was her role. Unfortunately, her talent and

diligence had brought about a betrayal. If she'd only been weak, none of

this would have happened.

"It is because of her that Tuldarr came to ruin. She's the reason I…"

"You abused her trust," Oscar spat coldly. His words concealed a

frightening threat, and Lanak fell silent.

While the pale man was unsure of many things, he had a powerful hunch

that he was going to die here.

Lanak's long life, a journey bereft of joy, was coming to its end.

With indifference in his tone, Oscar asked another question. "What did

you feel when you cut her open?"

"…Ha."

Lanak's face twisted into something resembling a smile. He only

remembered that it was a lurid, ghastly sight.

He could hear her voice as she screamed and begged him to save her.

Her blood and entrails had gushed up from her little body. The nauseating

stench tickled his nose even now.

Lanak could still feel her innards in his hands, and he glanced down at

his empty palms.

Compassion, jealousy, denial, longing, and hatred.

The names he gave to the lakes were the only feelings Lanak had ever

felt toward her.

She was the woman who controlled his life and whose life he should

have controlled. In truth, he had loved her. She had reached out to him with

such innocence, and he'd only wanted to cherish her.

He simply never had the power to make that happen.

That was why…he'd wanted his power to exceed hers.

"Lanak, stay with me. Don't leave me alone."

"It's all right, Aeti. I'll protect you."

Someday, he'd awaken from that fleeting dream. The illusory vision of

the past that had so consumed Lanak for over four hundred years was now

finally giving way to reality.

…He was sure that she would never look back at him again.

Lanak had been the one who'd perished that terrible night at the altar. In

the throes of his demise, he'd ripped the purest part from his beloved.

The pallid man looked up with a crooked smile on his lips. "I wasn't

thinking about anything. She was just a tool."

Perhaps that's why he didn't need to say her name anymore.

Lanak closed his eyes, shutting out all feeling.

Akashia bore down on him, and in his final moments, Lanak whispered

her name one last time.

A young man selling firewood in the landlocked nation of Cezar was

suddenly struck by an odd sensation. Curious, he looked to the eastern sky.

Legend had it that an evil god and his worshippers had built a village

hidden in the forest along the eastern border. However, if the old tales were

to be believed, magic fell from the sky and destroyed the village four

hundred years ago.

After that, the place where the secluded settlement once stood became

known as something called a magical lake.

As the boy stared toward the horizon, he saw something shine brightly

in the sky and his eyes widened.

At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but the very next

moment, white lights began to fountain up from the forest. Rather leisurely,

they began to make their way up toward the sky.

"…What in the world?"

The sight was a wonder, a mystery, but beautiful to behold.

Such a spectacular phenomenon was enough to inspire faith in forsaken

gods.

A warm, soft breeze swept across the entire region, though there was no

wind.

The luminous motes continued their climbing until they diffused into the

sky, gradually diminishing in number and growing paler. The boy stood

rooted to the ground, entranced by the sight of it all.

At long last, all the floating, meandering globes dissolved into the

clouds and disappeared.

Nothing was left.

For a long time after, the young man gazed dumbly up at the heavens.

The titanic spell configuration, set aloft from the witch's grasp, finished

diverting the energy of the magical lakes and dissolved into the open air

above.

Now that her long incantation was finally over, Tinasha stared out at the

former battlefield with placid eyes.

The stench of blood and charred flesh clung heavily to the breeze. Burnt

and motionless bodies lay facedown. Tinasha carefully partook of the brutal

sight. Cries of agony and death still lingered in her ears, or perhaps the

sound was in her mind.

…It would be very easy to cry.

Tinasha didn't want to, though. Allowing her emotions to rise risked

them overflowing and her losing control. No matter what she felt, Tinasha

knew it didn't change the fact that every death today was her fault—her

burden.

Those who survived were staring at Tinasha with a strange elation. It

was the deep sort of emotion shared by comrades who fought side by side

for a united cause.

There were just as many—particularly those still cowering inside the

barrier Tinasha had formed with the pieces of obsidian—who eyed her

fearfully, however. Pamyra and Renart moved to shield their lady from

those hostile gazes.

They were covered in wounds from head to toe, and Tinasha cast them a

look as if to say, It's all right now.

Her dark eyes landed on Nark, who'd come back. The man who alighted

from the red dragon spotted her and wasted no time in rushing to her side.

Tinasha awaited him in silence.

A general from Gandona stopped Oscar before he could reach the witch.

"As the bearer of Akashia, I trust you know what needs to be done," he

said.

A nervous ripple ran through the crowd. All present knew that Oscar

was tasked with slaying the witch.

Oscar nodded tightly, then strode to Tinasha. He paused before Pamyra

and Renart, who were teeming with animosity. Before either could conjure

up some manner of defense for their lady, the witch talked them down.

"Thank you, both of you. Let him through."

While they were reluctant, they heeded their lady's order and stepped

aside.

Oscar passed between the two and at last came to stand before the witch.

Tinasha was about to call Oscar's name but held the word back.

She knew he had been crowned king of Farsas. That made it all the more

improper for people to know he had any connection to a witch. He was

someone who would walk the path of righteousness and go down in history

as a wise ruler.

Knowing this, Tinasha thought it best that she fade away and become

nothing more than his stepping-stone. She prayed that he would find

happiness in the future to come.

"Please…," she said, the quiet plea unconsciously spilling from her.

Realizing she'd spoken aloud, Tinasha pressed her lips shut tight.

She didn't know what she'd planned to say. All that she'd kept so

repressed had somehow slipped out a little. The lingering heat in her throat

felt good. Tinasha thought it more than she deserved to die while enjoying

that sensation.

The witch took a deep breath, then closed her eyes with a smile.

Diverting the magical lakes had exhausted her own power. It took

everything she had just to stand upright.

If she was to meet the end today, she wanted to greet it on her feet,

however—on her feet and dry-eyed.

The lakes were gone, Lanak was dead, and now she would die.

With her death, the ghosts of Tuldarr would disappear. After four

hundred years, the fate they had altered would at last right its course.

Tinasha tilted her head up a little, almost as if she were expecting a kiss.

She waited for Akashia to run her through.

Oscar reached out toward her face. He brushed her smooth cheeks.

"Do you remember what I said when you broke Lucrezia's spell?"

No answer came.

Very gently, he placed the blade of Akashia against her alabaster neck.

Tinasha's body crumpled into Oscar's arms.

"Aeti, come here."

She could hear a voice coming from very far away. It called her name,

and she opened her eyes.

Tinasha was peering down a stone corridor that seemed to stretch on

forever.

"Come to me, I've missed you."

The voice was coming from somewhere behind her. It belonged to a boy

who Tinasha missed terribly. She smiled. Tinasha recalled how she used to

feel accustomed to solitude but still longed to cling to the warmth of

someone's hands. Something not quite self-derision and not quite loneliness

filled her heart.

"Aeti."

…Names defined people.

The name one was called became their self.

No matter how sweetly the voice in her memories called that name,

Tinasha knew she would never turn back again. Aeti was a child who died a

long, long time ago.

"Good-bye, Lanak."

Eyes focused on what was ahead, Tinasha began to walk forward.

The stone felt cool under her bare feet and told her nothing of the future

that awaited her.

When she awoke, Tinasha realized she had no idea where she was.

In truth, she did know. It was more that she didn't understand. Her brain

felt heavy and slow as she shook her head. Sitting upright in bed, she

blinked blearily at the blue sky that could be glimpsed through the nearby

window.

As she did, the door opened without a sound. Tinasha glanced over and

saw a woman there. "Pamyra…?"

"Lady Tinasha, you're awake!" Pamyra cried, rushing over to kneel

before the bed and take Tinasha's hand. She placed it against her own

forehead, testing its warmth. "You've been asleep for over a week… I was

very worried."

"I'm alive?"

"Of course you are!" Pamyra reproved her, but it still didn't feel real.

Tinasha found she was wearing a nightgown, and she placed her feet on the

floor. She tried to stand, but her body was too weak for her to stay up. She

staggered, and Pamyra supported her.

"Thank you… So why am I in Farsas?"

"A lot of trouble has happened. But right now, you can't be up and

about. Rest some more."

They were in Tinasha's bedroom in Farsas Castle. She had vacated these

quarters, but it all looked the same as when she had left. Tinasha let Pamyra

push her back down and sat on the edge of her bed.

She asked about the other mage. "Where's Renart?"

"The laboratory. Should I call him?"

"No, I just wanted to know he was safe," Tinasha said. She had a feeling

that he was all right if Pamyra was, but it still gave her a sense of relief.

Tinasha took a breath, then looked up at Pamyra, who was checking the

witch's pulse.

"Pamyra, I have a request…"

"What is it?"

"I want to go out of this room… Help me bathe and change my clothes."

Her lady had barely recovered, so Pamyra pulled a face at this demand

but nodded reluctantly.

Bathing proved a little tiring but also felt so wonderful that it swept

aside what had built up inside her. It awakened her consciousness to a

degree and cleared her thoughts. Back in her bedroom, Tinasha used magic

to dry her hair and slipped into the long dress Pamyra brought her.

"It feels like my legs have weakened… I can't walk very well… It might

be easier to fly or teleport to get around."

"You need to rest properly!" Pamyra practically shrieked, and someone

outside the door took that as their cue to enter. The master of the castle

walked in, looking sullen.

"Don't go out if you aren't at your best."

"Oscar…"

He gave her the same warning as Pamyra, who bowed as she passed him

and left the room.

Tinasha used magic to float over and land in front of him. She'd lost a

bit of weight, and he picked her up like he would've done with a child. She

touched his cheek as she asked, "Why am I alive?"

"Right off the bat, huh? If you're feeling that good, I suppose you won't

mind if I grind my fist into your head for a moment."

"That really hurts. Please don't."

Oscar brought her to the bed and sat her down on its edge. Then he

dragged a nearby chair over and took a seat himself. "I never had any

intention of killing you. And it feels gross that you wanted to make me do

so."

"I'm sorry."

"Anyway, I've got tons more things I want to lecture you about. It's

likely to take half the day, so prepare yourself."

"…I'm sorry," Tinasha repeated, hanging her head like a child getting

reprimanded. Oscar reached out and entwined his fingers in her long, silky

black hair. As it was freshly dried, it was still a little warm.

The witch gazed into his eyes. They were a deep blue, and he stared at

her just as seriously as he had before. Belying his harsh words was a look

full of adoration that he lavished on her.

An indescribable sense of nostalgia welled up inside Tinasha when she

saw that. "Can I touch you?" she asked.

"Do what you want."

She floated up into the air and landed on her knees between his legs on

the chair. Looping her arms around his neck, she pressed in close.

She had always thought that loneliness was just a natural thing for her.

When she finally found a way out, she plunged in headfirst, but then left

it behind… The month and a half she had been away had felt like forever.

Everyone assumed Tinasha was dangerous, and she'd never thought it

mattered. All she'd cared about was waiting for the right moment to arrive.

Once it did, she believed she'd finally be able to pay back all the people she

hadn't been able to save. To that end, she did her best not to pay any

attention to what others thought, even if it wore away at her.

That was why Tinasha had held it all in—everything she wanted to cry

out. No matter how the irritation and self-hatred tore at her, she never let it

rise to the surface. Even when that sludge of emotion burned her up from

the inside and she thought she would go mad, she still told herself she

didn't have the right to express those feelings.

It was much the same as her childhood spent living all alone in a

detached wing of a castle.

No one was with her. She blamed herself for everything. That had long

since become her reality.

Acceptance should have settled in, yet Tinasha had always found herself

strangely…lonely.

"You brought me back."

"Of course I did."

Tinasha buried her face in Oscar's shoulder. He was just as steady and

warm as when she'd left.

Something began to rise up within her, tempting her to open up, but the

witch didn't know what to say. There was just a comforting heat in her

chest. It was so tranquil she felt ready to fall asleep in Oscar's arms.

Tinasha smiled, her wet eyelashes trembling. "A lot…happened. In the

past and now."

"Mm-hmm."

"But I…"

After getting that far, Tinasha found herself unable to continue. She was

positive that Oscar already knew anyway.

She breathed heavily, and as Oscar stroked her hair, he muttered, "Oh

right… You're my fiancée now."

"Why?!"

"If I didn't say you were, I couldn't have brought you back with me. It

was bad enough that someone told me to kill you, but your huge display of

power earned you a whole list of suitors."

"You need to respect my opinion!"

"You're already here; just do your best for the remaining half of the

year," Oscar instructed—as high-handed as ever.

Tinasha pulled back to heave a huge, exaggerated sigh, but she couldn't

stop her face from breaking into a grin. She looked up at him from under

her long lashes. "As you wish, then, O contract holder."

Oscar nodded solemnly, and she gave him an angelic smile. Then she

hugged him again, whispering "Thank you" in his ear.

After the battle at the ruins, Oscar immediately sat down with all the highranking members of each country.

"All right, let's jump right in and start our discussion of what to do postbattle. The plan is to cover everything we can, including how to handle

that," declared the king of Farsas, an irrepressible air of authority belying

his calm demeanor. The representatives of the other countries, Reust

included, picked up on the inherent threat in his words and gulped.

The conference, held at Tayiri Castle soon after the group returned, was

on a timer. The witch, depleted of her power and cuffed with the Farsas

sealing bracelet, was put to sleep in a separate room. If they didn't decide

how to handle her before she woke up, none could say how things would

play out.

Everyone understood that going into this discussion, though things

began under a veneer of calm. Focusing mainly on Reust, the group made

arrangements regarding compensation for the troops Tayiri sent out and the

Cuscull mages taken as prisoners of war. When talk finally turned to what

to do with the witch, a general of Cezar—one of the Four Great Nations—

readily volunteered as the first to speak.

"About the witch… Whatever her reasons, she sided with Cuscull and

she's incredibly guilty. There can be no better time to end the threat she

poses than this very moment… There would be one less threat to our land."

Among the five witches who were the symbols of their era, Tinasha was

undoubtedly the strongest.

The battle with Lanak had laid bare the extent of her power. On top of

that, she now controlled twelve high-ranking demons. She was not someone

they could just ignore.

The representative of Gandona, another Great Nation, agreed. A silence

of implicit consensus fell over the room.

Oscar surveyed the group, then rested his folded hands on the table.

"There's still room for discussion as to whether she's guilty. We were able

to confirm that all the people who vanished from cities and towns in Farsas

were restored unharmed before the battle."

"…What?"

"It seems likely that she used a kind of invisibility magic to merely hide

them. I'd like to know if this is the same for those cities that were 'attacked'

in other countries," Oscar said, though he knew what the answer would be.

Confusion broke out among those at the table.

The only one present who was not shocked to hear that was Reust. He

lifted a feeble hand to reply, "Tayiri has also confirmed what happened in

our cities. It's true—there were no victims wherever she was involved. I

can't say the same for the very first town that burned to the ground, but…

it's possible that she learned from that incident and intervened within

Cuscull to reduce future damage."

Tinasha had volunteered for a dirty job to make sure no one else came to

harm.

Those gathered in that very conference had seen with their own eyes

what Tinasha's true goal had been.

The queen of a ruined country. The witch who lived for those that had

been lost.

Oscar and the others carried the weight of their respective countries on

their backs. They all felt deeply moved despite themselves by the awfully

clumsy, sincere beauty of that woman.

The third prince of Gandona piped up nervously. "She's the successor to

Tuldarr, isn't she? Doesn't that mean she has magical knowledge that's

been otherwise lost for centuries? I think it overly hasty to execute her

while she's unconscious…"

"But we won't be able to stop her once she's awake. She's a witch,"

snapped the general of Cezar warningly, a sour look on his face.

Oscar cut in quickly. "If she's with me, I can stop her. She's very

reasonable as far as witches go. And I'm sure I don't need to explain why

Farsas is the most suited to take charge of her."

"…Akashia."

The royal sword of Farsas was the one weapon that could kill a witch.

Right now, a sealing bracelet, made of the same material as Akashia,

held Tinasha in check. At present, she wasn't a threat. The king of Farsas

was the only person in the land with items that could so disarm a witch at

his disposal.

Rather hesitantly, the Gandona general protested, "But wouldn't that

mean that Farsas has a monopoly on the witch's power? If she's as

reasonable as you say, I should think many countries would want to borrow

her power."

"If all you had to do was ask her for a favor, she wouldn't have been

living in a tower. As long as we don't do anything, she's completely

harmless—just floating around reading books all day long. But make one

wrong move and she'll reject you. The envoy from Cuscull made that

mistake, and she turned down his invitation."

"She refused an envoy from Cuscull? How do you know about that?"

"Because I was originally the one who brought her down from her

tower," Oscar admitted. Reust's eyes widened.

The others reacted in much the same way. Everyone looked like they

wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Slowly, Oscar looked

at each member of the conference in turn. Sitting up perfectly straight in his

chair, he said, "I'm sure she had her reasons for her part in the Cuscull

incident, but ultimately the fault is with my negligence. I apologize for that

and vow that nothing like this will happen again."

His low, resonant voice sent a ripple through the council. The

representatives from the other major nations exchanged glances, unsure of

how to respond to what the king of Farsas said. Though he was making his

own position highly precarious, Oscar went on matter-of-factly, "Bearing

that in mind, I intend to answer your concerns to your complete satisfaction.

Ask away."

Oscar ceded some ground in the debate, but his unwavering intent was

still clear in his attitude. Doubt plain in his tone, the Cezar general inquired,

"I'm sorry, but why are you going to so much trouble for her?"

The witch was a living cataclysm, an abominable oddity. Why was he, a

royal, taking steps to protect her? It was a perfectly natural question, and

Oscar smirked. "That's easy. It's because she's going to be my wife."

"What…?"

Palpable waves of varying degrees of shock ran through the room as

everyone's heads swiveled to look at Oscar.

The young king of Farsas just gave the largely uncomprehending group

a light smile. He finally picked up the cup of tea in front of him and took a

sip.

By the end of the day, the decision was made; the witch would stay with

Oscar.

"I just know he did something rash so he could take me in… Hmm, is it

really all right…?" Tinasha fretted between mouthfuls of soup in bed.

"I wouldn't worry about that part. He was kind enough to allow Renart

and me to stay with you, too," Pamyra said with a tight smile.

It certainly hadn't been easy—Oscar had been left with no choice but to

force his opinion on certain points—but he'd succeeded in convincing the

other representatives to withdraw their concerns about the witch. Upon

hearing that, Tinasha decided she needed to be on her best behavior

whenever she left Farsas.

Pamyra went on to explain one other thing she knew her lady was

wondering. "Tayiri initially held the Cuscull mages who surrendered, but

later they were allowed to return home. Prince Reust has declared that

Tayiri recognizes Cuscull as a self-governing, inviolate dominion for

mages."

"…Wow, that's unexpected."

"It appears he's taken your sermons to heart. Inspired by recent events, a

number of Tayiri people have begun speaking out about the persecution of

mages. Several members of the Tayiri elite had children born with magic

who were killed by the state, after all."

"Ah… I see now. That would help things along."

The death toll for Tayiri ultimately comprised those killed in that first

village that was razed and the soldiers who fell during the battle on the

Asdra Plains. Both were tragedies but may have marked the end to

something even bigger. Only the passage of time would say for sure.

Tinasha felt faintly for her part in the recent changes. Returning her

empty bowl to Pamyra, she broached the subject of one final person she

was worried about. "Do you know what happened to Tris?"

"I don't know where she is now, but…I'm sure she's doing fine

wherever she is. I just know it."

"Oh…"

It seemed Tinasha hadn't succeeded in saving everyone.

For all her power, such a feat was impossible. Just like turning back time

or returning the dead to life, there were some things she could do nothing

about.

Even if she had the ability, it was unfeasible to expect a single person to

help everyone. That was why Tinasha had decided a long time ago that she

wouldn't get involved. Her decision to exist as a witch was a choice to live

for those who had passed, not the living.

Even so, she couldn't help but mourn. Whether that amounted to

hypocrisy or self-gratification, she was still free to do it.

Tinasha gazed up at the canopy of her bed and sighed.

Everything she had been working toward was over now. There was

nothing left she wanted to do. If she died the next day, she wouldn't have

found it objectionable… Her contract with Oscar still remained, however.

Tinasha decided to live for just a while longer. She would live for the

man who hadn't killed her.

When she thought about it that way…she did feel a little glad to be

alive.