Chapter 1
Part 3
It is often said that vegetation is sparse in the United Kingdom. Not only was the northern edge of the country covered in ice, but many forests were wiped out due to deforestation during the Industrial Revolution. On top of that, with the highest mountain in the country being a mere 1344 meters, the natural environment was far from diverse.
That being said.
From what I had personally seen, the country was plenty spacious, and filled with all kinds of life.
Past the bushes of bracken at the foot of the mountain, layers upon layers of ash and oak trees surrounded the path cutting gently up the side of the hill. Though the path itself looked somewhat tiring, what was more so was the journey here. It had taken 14 hours by train, including countless transfers, to get into the general area. Then, after staying the night at a local inn, the journey continued with 3 hours on a bus, and another 5 hours of walking. In short, we were now in the middle of nowhere.
The cool September wind was refreshing, and brought with it a myriad of scents. The scent of wet earth, churned thoroughly by each step taken. The gentle scent of herbs, most likely wild heather. The mouldy smell of thick sap, the hesitantly gathering insects, the rotting of trees and the droppings of small animals. All of these were smells I was very familiar with.
There was so much life, it couldn't be thought of as dirty. Similarly in this case, there was so much death, it couldn't be thought of as beautiful. These two ideas always seemed to come as a set.
Thoughts about my life in London clouded my mind. Even though there were some few ten thousand times as many people there compared to my home, it was a place that made me feel most of the people there were in the service of "death." Even though it was a town built with such cleanliness in mind, it gave me goosebumps countless times. Even if my two month stay there were to become twenty years, I would never be able to accept that place, and I'm sure it would never be able to accept me either.
Even now, just thinking about it caused such feelings of dread-
"...w, wait...!"
"---!"
The hand that landed on my shoulder, shaking just like a zombie, made me flinch. As if I had been caught by Medusa's eyes, I stiffly turned as little as I could to see behind me.
"M-master...!"
Of course, the outstretched hand belonged to the deeply distressed, sweat-drenched form of my master.
"M-my lady, could we please slow down a little bit?" he wheezed.
Luckily or not, it seemed he didn't notice my reaction. After all, if he had had the composure to do so, he most definitely would not have let it slide. Using my fingers to massage my stiffened face, I replied nonchalantly.
"But master, at this rate, we will be late to the invitation's designated meeting time."
"...okay, then at least give me 10 minutes. No, 5 minutes. Just please let me sit down."
Breathing heavily, he he raised five fingers.
"...you have three minutes."
Giving him that compromise, I leaned up against a nearby oak. To my slightly overheated body, the cool bark of the tree felt pleasant. Really, I preferred stone to trees, and even earth to stone, but this place didn't seem like it had any intention of indulging me. If I were to close my eyes here and sleep, I felt like everything so far could have been a dream. But if I were to wake up and find myself back in my hometown, what would happen?
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my right hand.
"Ihihihihi! Just because your a magus, you think that makes it okay for you to have a weak body?"
Again, it was neither my master nor I that spoke, but a third voice without a body. Strictly speaking, the voice came from my right hand, but even so, my master simply looked at the ground and complained in an exhausted voice about being brought up in the city.
This third voice never did anything but spout insults and abuse. Ever since I was able to recognize things around me, this third voice had always been with me, but I hadn't once seen it improve in any way. That being said, over the past few decades, it had only had the chance to speak to about five people, myself included.
(...Have I not changed much, either?)
I thought to myself idly.
Since two months ago, the number of people I have properly spoken two hadn't even doubled. My environment had changed to a bewildering degree, but I hadn't changed at all. It felt like I was just being left behind. Compared to the half-hearted way I was now, surely even the resolve I had mustered in leaving my home town was better. It was like I alone was just floating aimlessly like a jellyfish.
My master, as he cursed while massaging his feet, and this thing at my right hand, and even if nothing else at least my own state of being, were all clearly spelled out for me. So why was I still so clumsy?
"...why am I still such an idiot?"
Like a curse, I whispered those words.
After that, following countless complaints and requests for breaks from my master, we came to a place where the forest opened up into a clearing.
"Hey hey, what's that?" the voice at my right hand gave an amazed moan. I also bunched my eyebrows.
It was a rock.
A rock so big that if three adult men were to work together, they might be able to lift it. On that rock was the figure of a person lying down. On top of the rock, with a surface reminiscent of a tortoise's shell, he skillfully rolled around as if half asleep, while still keeping his balance.
Even as it looked like he was about to fall, he never did. Like those water-drinking birds I used to watch when I was a child, when he looked like he was about to stop, he would keep moving. On the green surface of the rock, his burly figure continued to sway back and forth, and just when it seemed like the slightest of pushes would send him crashing to the ground - his eyes snapped open, and he looked directly at us.
"Ah, you're finally here!"
Calmly spinning himself into a cross-legged posture, he sat up and waved.
His filthy hands were thick and muscled. His face seemed as if it hadn't been shaved, or taken care of in any way, in months. Dust and dirt caked his skin to the point his natural skin tone was unreadable.
His clothes gave the feeling of something like a nomad, but even they couldn't hide his muscularity. His arms, legs, and even his neck were startlingly thick, the hard work gone into forging them evident. He may have been only slightly taller than my master, but I wouldn't be surprised if his weight was close to double.
"Well, you two look like an odd group. Well, you look odd enough on your own, but this young lady looks completely different. Wait, this isn't some kidnapping in progress, is it?"
His loud laughter revealed surprisingly white teeth. His dark eyes were also quite pretty. But, there was an unmistakable danger within them. They were eyes that held a feeling like a child's innocence mixed with an elder's cunning.
"...u-um"
"...who are you?"
In my place, my exhausted master spoke. His voice carried a tiredness that said even speaking was a chore.
"Flue," the man replied. "That's my name."
"...that's a pretty cute name, for someone looking like yourself."
"Well, my whole name is Flueger, but I don't like it that much. If you just stop at Flue, it's a much more pleasant name, like a gentle breeze," he said with a certain deepness.
Rather than a gentle breeze, I thought the harsh desert sun, or a brilliant spotlight like in a pro wrestling arena was more suitable to him, but he did have a mysteriously refreshing quality about him. My master, however, just seemed irritated. Even I was blinking in surprise at him. In our past incidents, we rarely came across people like him.
(-Hihi, if your master is a skinny fox, then I guess that makes this guy a half-asleep camel, doesn't it?)
Once again, a voice came from near my right hand. This time, it was a whisper low enough that only I could hear it.
"Hmmm?"
The man - Flue, snapped his gaze over to me. It was unthinkable that he had actually heard the voice. Even so, his cheerful yet scrutinizing gaze looked me up and down. His impolite, yet not quite vulgar gaze seemed to see right through me. With a bewildered air, he raised one finger.
"Why are you wearing that grey hood? You're an awfully pretty girl, and it doesn't look like your hiding any scars or anything..."
"That's...because..."
"I'd appreciate if you left my apprentice alone, thank you very much."
While I was struggling to find an answer, my master forced himself between the two of us.
"Ah, so you are a teacher and student! I thought you had the face of a teacher, but I wasn't quite sure..."
"And what kind of face is that?"
"High strung and nervous, yet still looking like you are someone who takes care of others? Butlers from those old black and white movies made that face a lot, too."
With an apologetic expression, Flue scratched his head.
"You seem a little bit too straightforward to be a magus, don't you think?"
Of course, neither I nor my master were under any illusion that our meeting with him this far in the wilderness was a simple coincidence. After taking another breath, my master spoke again.
"So you also received the invitation?"
"Ohh, yes!"
Flue jumped down from the rock on which he was still sitting. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out an envelope that, in contrast to the rest of his appearance, was in pristine condition. It was made of high grade paper, with a faint watermark. Even without looking, we could tell that the symbol pressed into the sealing wax and the watermark depicted an angel's feather. Naturally, we carried that exact envelope with us.
"Why exactly were you taking a nap in a place like this?"
"Well, I got a bit lonely walking all by myself," he said something ridiculous. Waving his envelope in the air, he laughed affably. "I figured, if I got an invitation like this, then there must be someone else coming too. And look, bingo!"
"Did you ever consider the possibility that you might have been the last one to arrive?"
"I'd deal with it if it happened. I'd be on the verge of tears, but I'm pretty fast you know! I wouldn't be late."
He flexed his arms in what seemed to be some sort of poorly executed appeal. In some way, it reminded me of a lion trying its hardest to wag its tail. It seemed to match the sweat and dirt caked face, and his humourous impression.
In a way, maybe that was his personal virtue.
"...well, would you like to come with us, then?"
I asked suddenly, earning a chastising look from my master. In all honesty, I don't know why I said it. Neither I nor my master liked travelling with any more companions than were necessary, to the point that I could feel my own face heating up from shyness just from offering the invitation.
"Really?!"
With sparkling eyes, the man laughed cheerfully. The smile he gave was as extravagant as a fine alcohol in a bar.
"Alright! You won't have to ask me twice! But really, I'm glad you asked. Travelling alone is so boring."
"..."
Despite the sour face he was making, he extended a hand to my master.
"The name's Flue! Once again, it's a pleasure!"
"...Lord El-Melloi II. This is my apprentice Gray."
Though he didn't accept the handshake, he reluctantly offered at least his name in a way of greeting, prompting an impressed whistle from Flue.
"El-Melloi. I see, I see. You're the one from those rumors at the Clock Tower! Your that Lord that jumped from Mineralogy to Modern Magecraft, huh?"
"Yeah, that's right." This time, he cleanly cut eye contact after speaking.
"Oh, right. You wouldn't happen to have any alcohol on you, would you? I'm fresh out."
"I'm not in the habit of carrying alcohol around with me. And you aren't getting any of my cigars, either."
"Bleh."
After such a curt refusal, Flue proceeded to click his tongue repeatedly, as if he was close to tears.
"Let's get going, Gray! If you're slow we're leaving you behind!"
After kicking some sand and adjusting his coat, my master continued his ascent of the mountain path. Of course, 30 minutes later, the one who was slowest and constantly moaning for respite, was just as everyone predicted, my master.
-At long last, the Castle of Separation showed itself.
**************
I was unsure whether it was something that could really be called a castle. The tranquil lake that expanded behind it, and the rugged drawbridge before us certainly gave it that air. The interweaving of the forest, lake, and marble of the walls displayed a solemn beauty that would be hard to find in even in fairy tales. If comparing it to the many famous castles of Great Britain, it couldn't be said to be inferior in any way.
But.
The great, leaning spire gave off the impression of a spine twisted in agony. The countless marble bricks were piled up in a way that seemed perfectly calculated to make people feel uneasy. Of course, they must have been built up, but they gave the distinct impression that they existed in that shape from the start, and that they had just been dug up from their sleeping place deep in the earth of the mountain. It was a place that gave off that kind of impossible illusion.
-The crumbling castle gate, like a broken ribcage.
-The warped castle walls, like arms embracing the earth.
-The main building on the other side of the castle, even now reminded me of a beating heart.
It was as if some giant had had its skin and muscle torn away, and had been turned inside out. That was the kind of impression it left deep in the observer's mind.
"....ah..."
My body suddenly began to tremble.
Compared to the photographs I had seen earlier, it looked far more ominous - far more sublime.
The Castle of Separation, Adra.
"...so the children of Angels were giants?" my master murmured with a frown.
"Angels'...children?"
"From the books of the Apocrypha. If we believe the description from the first book of Enoch, the children of Angels and humans were up to 3000 cubits tall. In today's measurements, that would be about 1,300 meters. This castle would easily match that."
"Well, aren't we knowledgeable?"
Turning to face Flue, my master's expression steadily grew worse and worse.
"If you're a magus, you should at least know this much."
"There's a difference between just knowing something and being able to spit it out on a moment's notice. Besides, you aren't just reciting information blindly based on a single look, are you?"
"..."
"This is a place that would make you think of its creator, so shouldn't we be talking about that?"
"Speaking of which, what would you know about that?"
My master threw a sharp look at Flue as he asked.
"The creator of this Castle of Separation, the one known as the Magus of Ashbourne...surely you didn't come here without knowing at least that much?"
"Heheheh. Looks like I've really kicked the wrong hornet's nest."
In reply to Flue's droll response, my master pressed him further.
"We haven't asked you about who you really are yet, have we?"
Shrugging as if accepting the fact that this time there was no way to avoid the subject, Flue gathered the sleeves of his robes.
"I'm a mercenary. I work mostly in the Middle East, sticking my neck out whenever magic is involved. Every once in a while, the Clock Tower requests my services as well."
"So, you're a Spell Caster, huh?"
"Haha, sorry." Flue rubbed his own head apologetically.
I'd heard of them, too.
A magus was one who pursued the Truth of magecraft - sometimes called the "Spiral of Origin" - with everything they had, generation after generation, investing all means and abilities towards that end. The abilities they gained as a result of that pursuit were just a byproduct, and were nothing more than a means to which they could reach that Truth.
In contrast, there were also those who had no interest in the Truth, and who saw magecraft as a convenient tool to be exploited. These people were called Spell Casters. Normal magi detested these kinds of people like they were poisonous snakes. Or at least that was what I had been told within the Clock Tower.
"So, I imagine it would probably bother you to be seen with me. Shall we split up and enter separately then?"
With a depressed air, Flue pointed a finger at the draw bridge to the castle.
A few seconds passed.
"...you ask that now?"
After spitting out those words, my master stepped onto the drawbridge. Giving me a shy smile, Flue fell in step with me.
Through the open castle gate was a simple, yet spacious front garden. Made in the style of an English garden - or maybe more appropriately, as if the owner had little interest in it, the natural scenery gave off the strong impression of being built to the bare minimum of appearances. Even so, as if something had captured his interest, my master threw his gaze two or three times to some rose bushes behind the castle gate.
The scent of roses was thick. Though I didn't know all that much about flowers, so I didn't know if they were actually roses. Just that there was a thick, clinging scent in the air.
Standing at the entrance to the keep was a man in a slim-fitted suit. He somewhat gave off the impression of a butler.
"My apologies for the wait. Lord El-Melloi II, along with Mr. Flueger." With a courteous bow, he opened the door.
The lobby within was suprisingly large. And...
"...ahhh"
Unconsciously, I gulped.
It was a space overflowing with Angels.
Rows upon rows of Angel statues. They came in all different forms and materials, some wood, some iron, some even sculpted from what appeared to be crystal. In addition, stained glass depictions of bow-wielding cupids, paintings of valiant, sword-wielding Archangels, and frescos depicting Dominions bestowed with great authority adorned the space in abundance. Even the chandelier hanging from the ceiling bore the motif of an angel's wings and halo.
And they weren't just famous Angels either.
Angels like the ones my master had shown me - I had studied up on them a little before we left London - far from the classical depictions of Angels as holy beings, even those who appeared as little more than monsters were present. The bizarre, four winged and four-faced Cherubs, and the six-winged serpents known as Seraphs.
With their various forms and styles, the number of angels placed around the keep easily exceeded a few hundred.
(...)
As I looked, a terribly pungent sensation welled up in my throat.
There was no way something like this could be considered just a simple collection. No, if it was just a collection of art, there was no explanation for the mysterious pressure it created, considering its age and strength. It was as if someone had lavishly indulged in an obsession of theirs, and we had walked into that person's Cabinet of Curiosities. Or maybe walked directly inside their mind.
If that was the case, that made this place-
(...like brain matter.)
The atmosphere of the room felt thick and sticky. I involuntarily stumbled, placing both my hands on the stone floor. It became incredibly difficult to breathe. The trembling I felt when I first saw the castle became worse and worse. I felt like I was sinking into a swamp. And in that swamp floated countless eyes, watching us as we drowned. Observation that couldn't be escaped. For what felt like an eternity, I felt nothing but the sensation of falling into an Angel's brain.
"It's an illusion."
I heard a voice. I couldn't even tell where the voice came from.
"My Lady, this isn't even Magecraft. The 'colour' of this place is just appealing to your innate sensitivity. You are just being run down by your own abilities. It doesn't matter what, just create a new direction for it. You've learned the basics of Meditation, haven't you?"
Meditation? I didn't know anything about that. For that matter, I didn't even know where I was.
...But. A peculiar smell entered my nose.
It was like the smell was scratching at the back of my head - and as I smelled that familiar scent, the stone floor under my feet returned. The atmosphere was just sticky, so of course there were no floating eyeballs. I could hear my own laboured breathing, and felt an unpleasant sweat on my skin.
Looking down at me, my master had apparently started smoking a cigar.
"What did you see?"
"...umm...a swamp of brain matter, and eyes watching me..."
"I see. Defensive Meditation training was supposed to be one of the first things we covered, but I see I'll have to add it to your homework when we return."
"Guh..."
It was frustrating, but I couldn't argue.
Puffing out smoke from his cigar, my master turned his gaze to the center of the lobby.
"Of course, the other humans gathered here wouldn't lose to such hyperventilation, would they?"
Beside me, Flue also looked into the lobby. Immediately, he broke his gaze away. Following my master's gaze, from close to the spiral staircase in the lobby, a single person was approaching us.
"Whoa!"
At the same time as Flue hurriedly jumped behind a nearby pillar and hid, the approaching person greeted my master.
Blonde hair and blue eyes.
From his personal appearance, he looked like an impressive young man. He still seemed to be in his mid twenties, but he carried a sense of confidence and experience that didn't match his age. From his unblemished white suit, to his necktie pin encrusted with precious stones, to his calm and collected demeanour, his manliness seemed to be on a different level.
"It has been a while, Lord El-Melloi."
"Lord El-Melloi II, please. If you leave out the II, its a name too heavy for my shoulders."
"You are too humble. I have heard of your exploits as a Lord within the Clock Tower."
Beyond just sounding like he was trying to be polite, his voice held a genuine sincerity that was pleasant on the ears. It was a voice that seemed to reveal the months and years he had lived. There was no doubt he faced all obstacles in life with the same straightforwardness.
"You praise me too much. With your reputation within the Clock Tower, The Knight Heine Istari is much more illustrious than I am."
"I'm not the one who managed to get a title out of Her Excellency, though."
The joking words of my master were deflected hard and fast.
As my composure had returned somewhat, and I was already a little bit separated from the two of them, I turned to the hidden Flue.
"...is he famous?"
"Oi, you really don't know him? I thought you were El-Melloi's follower."
"...I only met him and entered the Clock Tower recently."
After my honest admission, Flue breathed a sigh.
He had even gone through the trouble of hiding himself, so there wasn't any reason for him to answer me, but the way he honestly responded to my inquiry reminded me that he was a good person in his own way.
"The Istari were a family well-noted for their alchemy, but Heine himself is an interesting case. At one point in the past, he had turned his back on the life of a magus and become a monk with the Church."
"The Church?"
In this circumstance, "The Church" did not refer to the everyday religious institution. It was the underside of that organization, a group whose primary goal was to hunt down "heretics." It was one of the very few organizations that surpassed the Clock Tower in scale. Their stance on the usage of Mysteries was rather different from that of the Clock Tower, so the two organizations were often in conflict with each other. To magi, it was something they disliked even talking about.
For me, the Church was an organization I was much more familiar with than the Clock Tower.
"Uh, so, why did he return to being a magus then?
"They didn't want his talent to go to waste, so his family pulled him back in."
Seeing my blinking face, Flue's mouth twisted slightly.
"Thanks to that, the relationship between the Church and the Clock Tower became even more problematic, and for a time things were actually rather dangerous. But I guess that just shows how much value he has. The Istari family must be so proud."
Which must have meant that the one who fought his way out of the Church was Heine Istari himself.
In order to defend the providence of God, the combat strength of the Church was tempered to a state beyond common comprehension. If he had used his own magic to defeat the master assassins from the Church, it was no wonder he was famous in the Clock Tower as well. From just hearing this one thing about him, he seemed like an unbelievable person - not just the deeds of a genius, but an impression closer to that of a great catastrophe.
(...but, that...)
I also thought of something else.
The fact that the assassins he had defeated with his own hands may have been his previous comrades - what feelings did that leave in Heine Istari?
As I mulled this over,
"...Brother."
A young girl, wearing a white one-piece dress, popped her head out from behind the spiral staircase where she had been hiding. With a timid behaviour that reminded me of a small bird, she couldn't have been more than 8 years old. The young man gave her a gentle smile.
"It's okay, Rosalind. Lord El-Melloi II is an honest person."
"...o-okay."
After pattering her way over to her brother, she bowed her head slightly.
"I'm his younger sister, Rosalind Istari. Pleased to meet you."
With a shyness that seemed even now like she would break down any moment, she greeted him.
Seeing her begin coughing and immediately guessing it was the smoke, my master hastily pulled his cigar from his mouth and returned it to his cigar case, earning an apologetic nod from Heine.
"So, that is-"
Raising his head, he looked over towards me. It seems at that same point, Flue entered his field of vision for the first time. Seeing Flue cover his face with a hand at having been discovered, my master asked Heine.
"Do you know Flue? We met him on our way here, and he decided to walk with us."
"...Yes."
The young man nodded.
The refreshing demeanour he had held up until now vanished in an instant, his voice now holding a cruel, inhumane quality.
"...yes. If you mean the Master-slaying Astrologer Flueger, then yes, I've heard of him."
Originally Posted by Asunder
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