A Lesson About Futility (3)

(Leo)

***

When it came time to begin the next round of searches, everything was the same as it was the previous day. I had retreated to Akiyoshi's room for a glass of iced tea to cool down, not wanting gray and purple strings of magic to leak from me. It was necessary I saved those if I didn't want to crash the same way as I did yesterday, though that was probably inevitable.

I was thankful the prince's anger already boiled over, and he was cordial with me again. Otherwise, I would have had something akin to a meltdown.

He escorted me to the courtyard, which didn't have many staff members, but all the aristocrats took their places along the benches, awaiting the commencement of the ritual.

Meeting the tense eyes of the Heides, I nodded to them gently as if to reassure them I was dedicated to doing my best to help. I certainly needed them as an impetus after Inei's outburst wore my patience thin.

The weight of everything settled over me, and my body was almost too weak to hold it up for the second time. If the operation didn't go well today, I was certain the guilt would immobilize me.

I noticed—once again—that amethysts dotted one circle, and I knew exactly who did it. I bit my lip, aware I now owed multiple people favors for their aid.

"Sinclair," I whispered gently to them before they stepped into their circle.

We both stood beside a bush, a lengthy and awkward thing that obstructed our vision like a blinding spotlight.

"I didn't want you to go get those. You hardly rested last night."

"It's no big deal," they murmured back, concealed by the mutters of our prospective spectators. "I found them in the castle storage, anyways."

My eyes widened. "You mean to say Inei had the stones all along? What is he thinking?"

Shaking their head, they deflected my questions by saying, "Only the amethysts were in there. Not many either."

They peered around the gossiping audience, who avoided Sinclair's eyes when confronted. The drama from the day before was as fresh on everyone's minds as newly dead meat.

Sinclair pulled me behind the adjacent shrub, threaded an arm around my waist, and whispered, "Good luck today. I'm sure it won't be as bad as yesterday was, and if it is, I'll take care of you for however long it takes you to get better." They gave me one of their most genuine grins, and I returned one. "Let's get this done quickly, okay?"

Their soft voice soothed my nerves, and I nodded, hugging them around the back while burying my face in their neck. (They were too short to go for a crash landing on their chest, so I settled for an angular adjustment to a different crater.)

"Don't overwork yourself," I said lightheartedly, "or else I won't have someone to stargaze and eat macarons with."

They chuckled and let go to push me back into the view of the aristocrats. "Let's hurry and get this over with. I want to spend my time with someone who cares enough to do those things with me. Just like it always is."

The butterflies in my stomach came back. Could they have picked a worse time to rattle me?

Ah—perhaps they were just the motivation I needed to get my act together and scan, scan, scan in a frenzy!

We assumed our places within our circles as Algor proceeded once more with his dance. The jaunty and strange motions began our escapade, and I soon entered that purely mental form.

However, this time I was prepared.

The fluctuation between a clear mind and haze that awaited elimination by a purple light still threw me off, but I soon grew accustomed to the cycling every few minutes. I braced myself for it, which was something I couldn't say was true the day before.

The only change was the bright portal through which I mentally jumped back in time, but that sort of magic was already familiar to me from the multitude of occasions during which I (maybe, perhaps) stole junk.

We imitated this process at different intervals. I was never certain what era I was in or if the other fairies accompanied me. With gaps in my mind, I continued on without another choice, letting the moments tick by.

The only notable thing I processed throughout the strenuous journey was one notable pillar of light exactly 199 years, 200 days, and eighteen hours prior to when we began our expedition. Like a bird seeking its prey, I approached the promising spot cautiously. The column was in an urban center rather than a remote area, which made it more likely for me to find a princess.

However, when I arrived, I found Algor's past self standing alongside a royal baby, bestowing magic upon it. I smiled. I must have borne witness to the birth of King Daemon's ancestor.

Two evenings and countless expeditions later, my body and mind reconnected at the same place they unclasped from each other like chain links. Since each of the fairies checked different frames of time, I was unsure whether success was reached during those restless, frantic hours. On my end, I knew there wasn't any, but who could've said Algor or Sinclair hadn't found the nobles besides themselves?

It appeared as if I was the first to arrive back, and I was subjected to the scrutiny of the press (ahem, the aristocrats) first. If my dizzy mind couldn't even arrange the letters in my own name, how did everyone expect me to organize a conclusive report with a third of the evidence?

"Did you find them?" Hikaru asked.

He was more gentle than his husband, but I didn't put him past getting emotionally charged enough to slap me as well.

Flinching, my eyes fixated on the ground, the radiance from my expression dwindling.

"No." I peered up, holding out palms as a buffer. "But… But there's no need to lose hope."

That statement struck him like a punch to the gut, but he nodded slowly. As he did so, both Sinclair and Algor arrived, still frazzled. In their stupor, Hikaru and Inei decided it was a good idea to immediately question them like the couple never learned the definition of patience. (Likely. They lived in a castle where they got anything they wanted when they wanted it. Spoiled children—but I wasn't any better.)

"Don't bother them too much," I told the kings. "They need a minute."

I frowned as I watched them ignore me to approach the fairies, but I was just as eager as Hikaru and Inei to know about their findings. The only thing was: I didn't know how I'd handle that rush of disappointment and self-reproach or an overdose of pure dopamine—scenarios as equally likely as the weighted sides of a triple beam balance. My knees became weak in anticipation, and my eyelids were so heavy that it was hard to trail my gaze across the clearing.

Inei barked, "Did you find my daughter? *Did you find my daughter?*"

As he shook both fairies' shoulders, Algor's eyes turned cold.

"Inei—"

"Your Highness," Sinclair distraughtly replied, and a putrid feeling surged through my veins.

"Answer me!" Inei shouted while Hikaru glanced over his husband's shoulder lifelessly.

Sinclair gulped, eyelids falling halfway shut as they tilted their chin up.

"We… could not find your daughter."

"You *what*?" Inei shouted with a shiny tear rolling down his face, gripping the messenger by their collar. "Tell me you're lying! Tell me this is all a joke!"

Limp in his grasp, the fairy cried.

"Do you really want me to lie to you?" Their voice sounded strained and shrill. "Do you want me to fake a smile to tell you it's all right? I'll do it if that's what you wish to see, Your Highness. I'll give up anything for everyone to feel just a little better."

They had none of the malice that consumed them yesterday; instead, they were overtaken by a grim sadness as they reported the unfortunate news.

I fell to the ground and bawled, feeling like a completely negligent fucking idiot. I was the one who could have prevented this in the first place if I watched over the kids better, and I was too incompetent to fix the problem. Far too many people were dragged into it, making me want to lay at each and every one of their feet to beg for forgiveness. I was sick of watching everyone hurt while letting myself break apart like rock shards for them to cut their fingers on while collecting.

A comforting pair of arms encircled my waist. Then, a distinct sound of sobbing came from behind me from someone who rarely did so.

"Leo, it's not your fault," Akiyoshi told me in a thin voice. "You tried your best."

A rush of wet spots dotted my back, and my wings tensed as a cheek rubbed against them.

"It's my fault for all this. You only wanted the best for them. My family knows that, even if we don't seem like it."

"I let them do that that day, Akiyoshi," I lamented, still unable to meet the poor boy's eyes. "I let *you* do that that day. I'm still guilty. I'm so sorry to *you* that we can't find your sister. I know you and your parents loved her dearly. I know she'll always remain in your hearts."

I swept my arm across my face. "And… I know… she's someone… none of you can replace."