Chapter 4: Deneb (3)

　　“Your family didn’t object to you coming to Witagium?” Sharon asked.

　　“No. When I was accepted, the entire orphanage celebrated,” Luina said. “The nuns were a little worried because they thought it might be dangerous.”

　　“Oh.”

　　“But I would’ve had to leave the orphanage once I finished my required schooling, and there was no way I could afford academy tuition. Plus, my grades weren’t high enough to earn a scholarship to an ordinary academy.”

　　There were few ways for an orphaned girl without higher education to make a living.

　　If Luina had not been a witian, she would probably have entered domestic service as soon as she left the orphanage or married into some equally modest household—assuming she was fortunate enough to find a suitor at all.

　　But Sharon’s expression had darkened so quickly that Luina decided not to elaborate.

　　“…I’m sorry.”

　　She really is kind. Luina gave a small laugh as Sharon fidgeted, her face clouded with guilt.

　　“No, it’s okay. I grew up surrounded by people who loved me, so I never felt deprived. When I was preparing for the entrance exam, the whole village helped me. Getting into Witagium was likely the best outcome I could ever have hoped for.”

　　“I’m glad things worked out. Oh, by the way, how did you find out you were a witian? Usually, only families that have produced witians for generations arrange blood tests.”

　　“A Tamacula broke into the orphanage when I was nine. Its fang scratched my arm, but I survived. That was how we found out.”

　　Little Jenny hadn’t been so lucky, Luina thought, an old sorrow tightening around her heart.

　　If she had known she was a witian then, she could’ve held her one last time. Because of the risk of infection, Jenny had not even been buried with her body intact.

　　Luina had watched her little sister turn to ash, then cut off her own long hair without hesitation. Jenny had loved to play with it as she fell asleep.

　　Burying those locks with Jenny had been the only farewell Luina could give her.

　　Luina’s expression had tightened with lingering regret, but her eyes widened when Sharon suddenly shrieked. She had always known Sharon’s voice was clear and carrying, but she had not realized just how loud it could be.

　　“Really?! You actually saw a Tamacula? Does it really look like a mole?” Sharon gasped.

　　“It looked similar, but its fangs were this long. Its claws were viciously sharp, too.” Luina held out her hand, indicating a length slightly longer than her middle finger.

　　Sharon squealed and clasped her hands together, looking utterly thrilled. “I want to see one too! Is it truly faster than a cat? And can it jump high?”

　　“Yes. It leaped close to my height in a single jump…”

　　Sharon leaned in closer, her eyes shining with curiosity as Luina continued explaining in her usual calm manner.

* * *

　　When Luina was handed a real sword during her first swordsmanship class, she was taken aback. The sword was far longer and heavier than she had anticipated.

　　This could ruin my wrist if I’m not careful.

　　For the first time, Luina had encountered an obstacle she could not overcome with speed alone.

　　Unlike a wooden sword, which she could swing with relative freedom, a real blade left far less room for reckless movement. If she fought the way she had during childhood war games, she would end up carving either herself or someone else to pieces.

　　I have to relearn everything from scratch, she realized.

　　Luina diligently copied the instructor’s basic movements when a dull ache spread through her wrist, making her frown.

　　“The classmate standing directly in front of or behind you is your training partner,” Arthur announced. “Use the movements you learned today and spar freely.”

　　Training partner?

　　Turning around, Luina saw a tall, slender, black-haired boy standing behind her with an indifferent expression. She did not recognize his face at a glance, but his silhouette seemed familiar.

　　Where have I seen him before?

　　As Luina quietly searched her memory, her eyes widened when the boy’s sword sharply cut through the air a couple of times.

　　Oh. He was the best swordsman in Group B. His name was… right, Ferken Alios.

　　Luina gave him a small, welcoming smile. Ferken answered with a perfunctory nod, then attacked before she had even assumed her stance. Luina reacted without much surprise and raised her sword to block.

　　The surrounding students, however, recoiled in horror.

　　“Is he insane?”

　　“That’s a real sword!”

　　Ferken’s blade moved too fast for the eye to follow. Some of his strikes drove so dangerously deep past Luina’s guard that the watching students felt their blood run cold.

　　Each time Luina narrowly knocked aside an attack vicious enough to be aimed at a hated enemy, cries of alarm rose from the crowd.

　　Clang! Clang!

　　The sound of sharpened blades fiercely clashing eventually drew the attention of everyone in the training ground. Arthur, who had been observing each person’s stance from one end, rushed over in surprise, but it was not a situation that allowed for forced separation. A wrong intervention would see him minced.

　　After watching the duel for a moment, Arthur finally had to bellow.

　　“Stop!”

　　Even after the command, Luina and Ferken traded another six or seven blows before finally stepping apart.

　　Arthur was secretly impressed by their skill, but the first principle of military life was absolute obedience. He let out an incredulous laugh, then barked at them.

　　“What do you think you’re doing? I told you to practice what you learned today!”

　　“My apologies, Instructor,” Ferken replied, bowing respectfully. “You said we would be partners, so I wanted to assess her skill. I may have gotten a little carried away.”

　　A little carried away? The bastard had all but tried to carve Luina apart!

　　The other students stared at Ferken, mouths hanging open. Watching him bow with perfect courtesy, as though he were an entirely different person from moments ago, made their temples throb.

　　“Your enthusiasm is commendable, but safety comes first during training. Do not forget that the person in front of you is your partner, not a monster. Save the dismemberment for actual combat.”

　　“Understood,” Ferken replied.

　　The training ground remained unsettled until the session concluded. The students had thought Luina was far beyond ordinary, but Ferken’s skill seemed almost godlike.

　　Unfortunately, his temperament was far too vile for anyone to look up to him, and his manner of speaking was even worse.

　　“First time using a real sword?” Ferken asked.

　　“Yes,” Luina replied.

　　“If you’re going to face me again, build up your strength first. If a longsword is too heavy, you could try throwing knives or something.”

　　That arrogant bastard! Throwing knives? Had he just told their top student to perform in a circus? Several hot-tempered students cursed Ferken openly.

　　Fortunately—or unfortunately—Luina was not socially astute enough to catch the insult. She was too busy marveling that, for the first time in her life, she had met someone who utterly outclassed her.

　　“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind,” Luina said calmly.

　　Ferken gave a quiet scoff. The faint sneer on his handsome face was infuriating enough to make everyone want to smack him in the back of the head. But since Luina did not seem offended, no one could step in on her behalf.

　　Rowen silently watched the other students thump their chests in frustration. Rowen’s expression tightened, almost too subtly to notice.

* * *

　　“Rowen, you must keep your head down. Never reveal what you know or draw attention to yourself. Live as though you were already dead… quietly.”

　　His mother’s anguished expression gradually faded, and soon the familiar dormitory ceiling came into view. Rowen lay still for a moment, steadying his breathing, then sat up. It was still early, but he knew he would not fall asleep again.

　　What rotten luck. It was the weekend, and he had finally had the chance to sleep in.

　　Thanks to waking early, Rowen had already exercised and finished his review, yet it was barely midday. With nothing else to do, he considered going out to buy toiletries rather than waste the rest of the day indoors.

　　He had resolved not to draw attention to himself and did his best not to be fussy. Still, the soap provided by the school smelled genuinely awful.

　　A sizable market lay about twenty minutes from Witagium on foot. Rowen wandered through, looking around at the stalls, until he spotted Luina in front of a stationer’s shop. She was studying the display with an oddly grave expression.

　　Unlike most of their classmates, who still acted awkwardly around him nearly a month into the term, Luina had kept her promise to treat him like anyone else. She was the only friend around whom he could truly relax.

　　“What on earth are you thinking about so seriously?” he asked.

　　“Ah, Rowen. They give you five extra colored pencils if you buy ten.”

　　“Doesn’t the school provide those?”

　　“They’re not for me. I want to give them to the younger children at the orphanage. Fifteen should be enough for everyone to share.”

　　“Then buy them. That sounds like a good deal.”

　　“I know. That’s why I’m tempted, but…” Luina hesitated. “If I buy these, I won’t have enough money left for snacks. I promised I’d bring cake next time, but this sale ends tomorrow.”

　　Ten colored pencils could not cost more than one silver, could they? Rowen thought, but soon realized Luina had no parents to send her an allowance. Her scholarship was her only income.

　　Rowen knew very well that this could come off as a rude question, but he could not stop himself from asking, “Your scholarship… how much do you get?”

　　“Thirty silver a month,” Luina replied.

　　For once, Rowen was at a loss for words. It was less than a week’s wages for a day laborer. Once he accounted for the carriage fare and all the snacks Luina carried to the orphanage every other week, she could hardly have been spending anything on herself.

　　Rowen stole a glance at Luina, then quietly slipped his ringed left hand into his pocket. His mother had been bitterly disappointed that its gem was worth far less than the ones his siblings had received.

　　Yet even if Luina saved every coin of her scholarship until graduation, she still could not afford it.

　　A heaviness settled over Rowen as he considered what to do. Would Luina be offended if he offered to buy the colored pencils? How could he help without hurting her pride?

　　After a moment of thought, an idea lit his eyes.

　　“Luina, I’m going to the imperial palace next weekend. Would you like me to drop you off at the orphanage on the way? If you tell me when you’ll be heading back, I can have the carriage pick you up as well. You could use the money you save on the fare to buy both the colored pencils and the cake.”

　　“Really? That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

　　Rowen had offered with great care, half-afraid she might take offense. When her face brightened, he could finally relax and smile.

　　While Luina paid, Rowen started toward the washroom. An ominous chill prickled across the back of his neck. Rowen spun around. Few people possessed instincts for danger as sharp as Rowen’s.

　　A sharp streak of light split the clear sky.

　　Then came a series of thunderous booms, and the ground began to shake.