“—nghh…”
My eyes slowly slide open as small sparks of thought begin to form inside my brain. It doesn’t seem like I’m dead, and it certainly doesn’t feel like I’m lying in a puddle of my own blood. Unfortunately, I know how that feels all too well, and this does not feel like that.
I’m met with an all too unfamiliar ceiling, but with how long I’ve been traveling these past few weeks, I guess this was to be expected. The scent of lingering smoke and the flicker of orange light give it a strange sense of nostalgia.
The last thing I remember was fighting against that strange, spider-like creature. I was sure I punched it away, but for some reason my memories after that feel hazy. My throat is parched. A single gulp of cold water would probably wash away all discomfort.
“—!”
“Ow…”
A spark of electricity jolts my right shoulder. It feels similar to what I experience when using my Soul Sight, but instead of my eyes, it spreads across my physical body. Not to mention, it doesn’t feel like the static is coming from within me, but from somewhere outside.
Reacting instinctively, goosebumps rise along the right side of my neck. The wooden ceiling above me is made of thick tree logs bound together into a single structure. Funny enough, the bark hasn’t even been stripped, if that’s the right word.
Based on my angle of view, it’s clear that I’m lying somewhere on the ground, maybe tucked into a corner of the building. My head rests on something soft and plump, but the rest of my body from the neck down is slanted at an odd angle.
From my chest downward, a flat surface presses against me, keeping my body pinned in place.
I scan the room without lifting my head. I’m not the only one here. As my senses sharpen, I begin to hear the cries and groans of others around me. Still, I can’t bring myself to panic. Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m tired, or if I’ve simply gotten used to scenes like this.
The people around me, who I assume are taking shelter from something, are wearing the same clothing I saw in the city of Yucu Saa. This time, though, their beautiful white vestments are drenched and splattered with what I can only assume is dried blood.
My breathing stays steady. It feels strange to be this calm. Normally, I hear that even knights wake up in a panic after a battle. I suppose that means I’m either battle-hardened, or I’ve seen far too much for someone who’s supposed to be an ordinary student.
Twitching my left arm, I grasp how much physical strength I have within me, and surprisingly, I can move just fine. There isn’t a single bit of stuttering in my movements, as if I just woke up after a well-performed workout.
Flipping my hand around, I feel the texture of the ground. Its bumpy ridges run across my fingertips as small, raised splinters threaten to pierce my skin.
“Good morning. You’ve certainly taken your time waking up.”
Wow. The voice that talks in my ear is soft and soothing. I wish I could just capture it in a bottle and force it to talk to me as much as I’d like. If I were to fall asleep with someone with this voice speaking to me, I’d probably experience the best sleep of my life.
Once my eyes fully open, the scene around me comes into focus.
I’m lying on top of someone’s lap, my head resting against the soft fabric of their clothes. A faint warmth seeps into my cheek, steady and comforting, rising and falling with each quiet breath they take. Gentle fingers brush through my hair, slowly and carefully.
Additionally, I’m greeted with two large, circular calcium cannons blocking my view of the person’s face. They lean forward, their face peeking through the obstacles with a soft smile. Ears that belong to a fox twitch every other second, almost as if it’s reacting to her emotions. Her breath breezes across my face, tickling me enough that I shut one of my eyes.
“Fox-lady.” my mouth moves on its own, but it’s not like I’ve said anything rude to her anyways. I genuinely don’t know her name, and with the kind of atmosphere she’s setting by giving me a lap pillow, bombarding me with her large breasts, I can’t be blamed for feeling an extreme sense of comfort.
“If you’d prefer to rest a while longer, please don’t let me stop you.”
She flips her tail from behind and raises it over me. Before I can react, it falls gently onto my face.
This feels so nice. The texture of her fur is softer than any pillow or clothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I think the most expensive thing I’ve worn was Hana’s coat back in Atrila, which had some feathers or something on the inside.
But that’s nothing compared to this. It genuinely feels like all my troubles are being washed away with each passing second. My breath slows down again, and my eyes begin to drift back toward the land of dreams.
I need to stop myself, but I really don’t want to. The strength in my body is completely drained, but it’s not due to any magical interference. It’s purely this woman’s ability to comfort and pamper someone.
Are all Aimafinans like this? Or maybe it’s a unique trait of the fox-people.
“I need to get up.” I let out a weak protest, but the sound is muffled, eaten by the mass of fur covering my entire face.
Then, I feel a hand brushing against my hair. She runs her fingers so meticulously, scratching every itch, the stress in my body deflating with each stroke of her movement. Is this what it feels like for a canvas to be painted on?
“After all you’ve done to save us, I felt it was only appropriate to offer you some small token of gratitude.” she says, whispering into my ear. If I was a man, oh goodness, I would have fallen in love with her ages ago. If she isn’t taken already, and if I was a man, I would have wife’d her up the moment I felt this fur on my face.
She’s basically already a perfect mother.
Is that why she was so determined to save the kid as much as I was? Wait, yeah, the kid. Whatever happened to the kid?
Clenching my fist, I dig my nails into my palm to force myself awake. Temporarily jolted by the sharp pain, I muster all the strength within my body to speak.
My lips part, but no sound comes out at first. My throat feels dry, like the words themselves are stuck somewhere deep inside me. I swallow hard, forcing air into my lungs, trying again despite the weakness spreading through my body.
Even that small effort feels exhausting, like I’m dragging myself back from somewhere far away.
“What happened to the child?”
The hand on my head doesn’t stop, unfazed by the question that I asked.
“He’s stable, for now. Regrettably, he hasn’t awakened from his coma, though his breathing remains steady.”
“I’ve also taken the liberty of examining his magical energy. Fortunately, everything appears to be in order.”
My body deflates upon hearing her answer, as if my life goal has been fulfilled. But I can’t fall back asleep just yet. I haven’t done anything yet, and I need to find a cure for Albo as quickly as possible.
With that sudden surge of motivation, I slowly shove her needlessly large tail aside, getting up to meet her gaze. We lock eyes for a moment. Her facial features stand out to me as she looks at me, concerned.
It’s a bit hard to tell, due to the room’s color imbalance but her skin seems to be tanned. If I had to guess, it's probably because of Aimafina’s more jungly nature. The clothes she’s wearing are no different from when I first met her, but this time, I can clearly see the color of her eyes.
They’re a beautiful hue of amber. Every aspect of her body screams comfort and warmth. My breath hitches at the sheer overwhelmingness of her beauty. How can the women in this world keep getting more and more beautiful?
She’s definitely older than me, but I can’t tell whether or not she seems older than Hana. If I remember correctly, Hana said she was somewhere in her upper twenties, so the person in front of me might be around the same ballpark. Though, I did hear Aimafinans have longer lifespans.
I slap my cheek to put myself back into focus, before finally standing on my own two feet. On her knees, the fox-lady’s eyes drift upward, following every slight body movement I’m exerting. Furrowing my brows, I speak in a more serious tone.
“Thank you for saving me, ma’am.”
Letting out a soft exhale, she stands up as well, her height far surpassing mine. My head tilts slightly upward to meet her gaze. With a grin, she replies, “The name’s Andalia. Andalia Mitama.”
The name immediately clicks inside my head. It’s a family name that’s famous even back in Kala. There wasn’t a single magical textbook without referencing the great Mitama family, the pioneers of modern magical manipulation.
I should have figured it out much sooner. Her animalistic features blended in so naturally, I didn’t think twice about who she could have been. But from the wards she used, to the unique clothing, they were dead giveaways.
Finally, to not leave her hanging, I give her my own name, “I’m Saya. Saya Idlansil.”
Honestly, I never expected to see someone of great importance all the way out here near the border of the nation. If I remember correctly, she’s supposed to be the leading Shrine Priestess, second in command only after the Grand Chief of Aimafina.
“Idlansil…” her face goes pale for a moment, as if I’ve said something taboo. But before I can question her reaction, something distracts me.
“—Aughh..” the groaned pains of the others in the room interrupt my thoughts. It’s probably best if we leave the room and talk elsewhere. A lot of people are injured and clearly in discomfort. It’d be quite disrespectful if I made any loud noises in here.
Shuffling past me, Andalia’s platform shoes click against the rough, hard planks of wood on the ground. It’s almost as if she read my mind, as she slowly walks toward what I can only assume to be the exit from the house, seeing as it only has one door.
I quickly follow after her, turning my head left and right as I do. There are a total of eight other people, including the boy I rescued. Some are on the ground, unconscious, while others are propped up against the wall, leaning with every last bit of strength left in their bodies.
The boy occupies the only bed in the cabin, its vast white sheets dirtied by the dirt and dust from the now ruined city. Unlike everyone else, he seems the most at peace, his chest rising up and down rhythmically with every single breath.
Opening the door, Andalia steps out into the outside world. The sound of trees rustling in the wind is the first thing my ear catches, the chilly breeze of the winter air coming shortly after. Not wanting to disturb the injured inside, I quickly jog out into the darkness.
Andalia quickly closes the door behind me, as all the artificial light produced from the candles is snuffed out in favor of the rays of moonlight above us.
Even though the small bits of light are satisfying enough for me, it doesn’t seem to be the case for Andalia, as she takes out a single, small rectangular piece of paper from her sleeve. This one is a bit different from the ones I’ve seen earlier, the ink markings being much smaller and lacking the strange border at the edge of the ward.
Tossing it into the air, the paper sparks into flame as blue fire erupts from the center. It doesn’t take long for the fire to fully engulf the ward, a beautiful lightshow presenting itself before us, giving me enough vision to view the Shrine Priestess in all her beauty.
She flips her hair and lets her tail loose, no longer needing to keep it contained in such a small area. I gasp in admiration, hints of regret surfacing for pushing such a majestic thing away just minutes earlier.
“Don’t worry, honey. Once we get out of this, I’ll reward you with another lap pillow,” she says with a smirk. Even though it’s dark, every time she opens her mouth I can see the two sharp fangs in her mouth. Their sharpness is probably just as deadly as Rias’ shark-like teeth.
Can she read my mind or something? This is like two or three times that she’s done that now. Actually, since I don’t know much about Aimafinans, much less about the literal masters of magic manipulation, that possibility isn’t entirely off the table.
“Thank you.” I give the most bland reply back, along with a stale expression.
“More importantly,” I continue, “how long has it been since I’ve been knocked out?”
Last time I woke up in a strange place, I was out for three days. Even though Oktavia was the one who controlled my body back in Kala, when I woke up in Atrila my body felt all kinds of sore and tired. Not this time though. I could probably fight a hundred packs of wolves with how I currently feel.
Holding up her fingers to represent the passed time on her right hand, she replies, “two hours.”
It’s only been two hours? You’ve got to be joking, right? I’ve slept longer and felt more sluggish. What in the world is going on right now? Maybe this goes to show how much stronger I’ve gotten with magic, but still, it’s absurd to even imagine this situation.
“Two hours? Wait, if I’ve been out for two hours, how long have those people inside been there for?”
Her hand remains up, the digit unchanged.
“Two days.”
I recoil, taking a step back as the wind rattles the trees surrounding us. The cold air suddenly feels sharper against my skin, biting through whatever warmth I had left. My thoughts stumble over themselves, trying to make sense of what she just said, but nothing fits together.
For a moment, the quiet of the forest feels suffocating, like even the world itself is waiting for an answer I don’t have.
“Sorry, but that makes no sense.”
“I saw the villagers walking around the city, selling things, and one even tried to help me. How could they have been here for two days?”
Dropping her smile, she stares at me with droopy eyes. It kinda upsets me. It’s the face someone would make when they’re looking down at someone in pity. But why? I feel like I’ve asked a valid question.
“That’s because the city of Yucu Saa was destroyed two days ago.”
Before I could reply, she continued, “I was quite shocked to see you wander into the barrier alone, with the older man just barely standing on the edge of it.”
Thank goodness, at least Redus got out safe.
“At first, I assumed you were involved in the plot of imprisoning the city, but when I saw you fight the beast, I was immediately proved wrong.”
“The final nail in the coffin to confirm your alliance was when you risked your life to save the boy. If you truly were on the monster’s side, then you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to do such a good deed.”
Turning her head slightly, she faces the closed door. “They were fortunate souls who managed to escape the onslaught just before the barrier had completed. Or at least that’s the only assumption I could make based on their testimonies.”
“So you weren’t in the city when it happened?”
She shakes her head in denial, before turning her gaze back to me. Compared to before, her expression carries none of the warmth she displayed earlier. Her brows are furrowed in full seriousness.
“I only arrived after the fact. The Tree of Life whispered to me about a disturbance in Aimafina. Even though I typically don’t operate in other cities besides the capital, my heart wouldn’t let me abandon this anomaly.”
“Perhaps it was the Tree’s will breathing into my heart.”
“When I arrived, a pitch black dome surrounded the city, while the last remnants of its survivors, those people inside, were scattered all across the woods.”
I cut her off, “one second. You could see the black dome as well?”
Again, she shakes her head. “I couldn’t see it per se, but I could sense the miasma oozing from inside. When you went through the barrier, your body immediately vanished from the world, allowing me to determine the estimated border of the spell.”
She then pauses, as a question smoothly clicks in her mind. “As well?”
Channeling magical energy into my eye, I activate my Soul Sight, the world sinking into a deep blue. The shine of my technique glows white, overpowering the now dim light of the fading blue flame. Andalia’s face goes pale in shock, her eyes and jaw wide open. Her tail hides behind her, as if sensing an incoming threat.
“Long story short, I have the ability to see people’s souls, and the magical properties of things.”
Andalia immediately begins pacing in circles around me, her right hand raised to her chin as she loses herself in thought. Following her movements makes me a bit dizzy, especially since it seems like her pace is getting faster and faster with each passing breath.
Then, after a solid thirty seconds, she stops and lurches forward, her eyes staring directly into mine. I can’t see her facial expression due to my Soul Sight, but I can tell what she’s seeing is something far different. The surprise isn’t unexpected, but the way she reacts to my eyes is.
Normally, people get scared or startled by seeing something so unnatural, but she simply studies them, inching closer and closer to the point where I back off, thinking we might butt heads.
Curiosity painting her face, she says, “I’ve never met anyone with such unique abilities. I suppose I should have known you were special when you started using Kuno’s book.”
Leaning forward, she reaches out for the spellbook clipped to my belt, gripping it tightly with her slender fingers. Strangely, I remember dropping it back in the city. Maybe Andalia picked it up before we escaped?
More importantly…
“How’d you know the book belonged to the Butterfly Mage?”
She carefully inspects the brown spellbook, flipping it around several times. Her fingers try to pry it open to reveal its contents, but no matter how much she tries, the book doesn’t budge even a bit.
I’ve come to understand that I’m the only one able to open the book. At first, I thought it was because of my ability to use Arcane Magic. But even after I opened the book and tried to show both Hana and Viera, the actual contents were blank for them.
I’m not exactly sure why, or even how that’s possible, but if they couldn’t access it, I highly doubt Andalia would be able to.
“I met Kuno about five years ago,” she replies, tossing the book back to me. I lunge forward to catch it, its decently heavy weight throwing me slightly off balance.
“Frankly, when I saw your book shooting out ribbons, I assumed it was an illusion of some kind. After all, Aimafina is very well known for those kinds of spells.”
My mind recalls the wards she used as spells. She clearly has a Birthmark, I can see it on her neck. The real question is, how did those pieces of paper come to life, and more importantly, what technique did she use to execute them?
Building up the courage, I finally ask, “How do I make the book obey my commands? This is the second time it acted on its own, and if I can master those ribbons, then maybe my journey could be made slightly easier.”
I open the book to check how many pages are missing now, but to my surprise, I don’t see any signs of ripping or tearing from the spine. There isn’t a single remnant of paper left behind. I wonder if it’s because of the circumstances we were in, or if it has the ability to restore itself.
“If your book isn’t sentient,” she starts, “then I suppose the command for making it cast certain spells has something to do with desire.”
“Desire?” I’ve heard of desire taking an important role in magic, but the academy always focuses more on the visualization aspect.
Andalia nods while shifting her wards from her sleeve. “These wards are made from the leaves of the Tree of Life. Although they’re activated through my magical energy, it is my prayer that activates the will of the Tree.”
“After that, I simply have to trust that the souls residing within the wards are willing to work with me.”
How did I not see this before? The wards have faint strings of light attached to them. It’s kind of like the mud-hands, where people were technically dead, but their souls lived on. But this is a bit different. It’s barely noticeable, almost too thin to see at all.
“I see,” I reply, “I tried visualizing the ribbons that people often associate with the Butterfly Mage, but I didn’t know it was tied to desire as well.”
“Should I stop doing the visualization stuff entirely, or is it something to add on top of the desire?”
Sliding the papers back into her sleeve, she replies, “I would say it’s something to add on top. My wards are quite unique, and so is your book, so it’s hard to tell what technique to use exactly for the most efficient results.”
I nod in understanding. It’s definitely much easier said than done, but if I can somehow manage to get it to work a few times, I might be able to build some level of consistency over time. But more importantly…
“Andalia, I’m looking for a cure for my friend. Now that the situation is over, could you possibly help me find it?”
It’s better now than never. If anyone’s informed about Aimafina’s capabilities and medicine, it’s most likely going to be the second in command.
“I know it’s a bit selfish,” I go on, “considering everything that’s going on. But I wanted to ask before we parted ways.”
Leaning against the door, she cocks her head to the side. “What’s your friend’s illness?”
There’s not a shred of concern in her body language. As expected, she probably gets these kinds of inquiries a lot from people all around the world.
“It’s not an illness, but a curse.”
As if I called her something derogatory, she snaps her head back in place, her eyes glaring at the mere mention of such magic. As far as I can tell, she’s probably upset about something so unnatural existing in this world. After all, I’ve never even heard of an actual, cast curse until Albo was affected by it.
Her eyes widen and stay that way for a few seconds. The breaths she takes are no longer delicate, but sharp and quick. The fur on her ears and tail spikes up, the equivalent of a person getting goosebumps.
“I’m afraid our troubles aren’t over just yet. The monster still remains.”
Her words come as a shock to me. It was naive of me to think something that absurd would die in just one shot. But that’s not the end of the bad news, it’s definitely going to be about Albo. I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to save him, so even if she tells me that the cure is hard to obtain, I’ll push forward anyway.
“If your friend is cursed…” she mumbles, before restating it in a higher pitch, “there’s no way to cure him. Such a cure does not exist.”