But then again, I quite liked the sweet smell that the wax gave off. One of the lecturers would pick seasonal spices every morning, due to the supposed boost in concentration that they would give. I once went to thank that teacher for it, but he replied that I should “thank the bees, flowers, and herbs instead.”
…If it was now, then I would have probably told him that he deserved to be thanked regardless.
Back then, I had just come to London and hadn’t spoken to other people much.
Back then, I was comforted by the soft, easing scent. Though I knew that that wasn’t the original intent of the lecturer, I still wanted to thank him for the warm feeling that it sent through my heart, but…
I felt… somewhat anxious. I sat huddled in a corner of the classroom and held a hand to my chest. I had also handed in a report this time, so I was very concerned about what kind of comments I would get from my mentor.
I knew that I did not fit in here.
I was not a mage, just a disciple of my mentor. I was only allowed to sit here because of a long trail of coincidences. Though I was aware of this, the fact that I was a member of this classroom was imprinted into my heart.
I had made a misconception.
The misconception that I could continue to stay there. Just as these feelings circled through my mind, a familiar word resounded through the classroom.
It was only when I arrived in London that I realized the incredible power of desserts. I’m sure they contained a special sort of magic that made people forget about all the problems they were facing. The taste made me feel as if I was melting from the inside out. But this was the only time I could not let myself revel in this deliciousness.
Her laughter made me feel slightly relieved. This was the first time I realized that a smile from a friend could put you at ease.
I breathed in and nodded.
“Master said that he hoped I could help him. If so, putting forth all my effort is my duty as a disciple. Therefore, I must face this. Since I am here, I hope that Miss Reines can tell me.”
The population was probably only around a hundred people. It was a village that could disappear at any time, yet had spent decades in slumber. Most of the buildings were built with stone bricks and looked like they were at least a hundred years old. Though all the people who came by were dressed in modern clothes, it wouldn’t seem weird if they donned the clothes of the last century.
Either way, this sort of place was not uncommon in the Welsh countryside. Since it was on such a steep hill, delivery trucks probably wouldn’t be able to enter easily, so it was inevitable that it would be so undeveloped.
When we opened the large door of the church, it was surprisingly spacious inside. The ceiling was quite high, and the interior was well-cleaned, giving it a quiet atmosphere. Though it wasn’t grand, both the golden candelabras and the wooden pews were swept devoid of dust. The devoutness of the village was plain to see. There would probably be quite a few people gathered here every Sunday, sitting in a place where all was silent except for the fat priest’s preachings.
But the most eye-catching thing was deep inside the church.
“…A Black Madonna (in Western Christendom, used to refer to a painting or statue of the Virgin Mary and infant Jesus that are depicted in black).”
Indeed, it was a statue of the Virgin Mary that was dyed in inky black. Though she still held the infant Jesus in her hands, her stature seemed different, and full of majesty. She stood straight, and her gleaming eyes stared downwards. She seemed more like a female general than a kind mother.
“Besides that, if you wish to stay in this village, there are a few rules that you must follow.” Bersac said.
He raised four fingers.
“First, you must pray to the statue of the Holy Mother when you enter. You have already done this.” He lowered his index finger.
“Second, do not go out late at night.”
“Third, do not go to the graveyard alone. Fourth, though multiple people can enter the graveyard, do not ever enter the swamp. I hope you can follow these rules.”
Well, well.
We toured around the village with the girl as our guide, and learnt quite a bit from conversing with the villagers. For example, even though this was in Wales, English was spoken here.
For some historical reasons, the number of speakers of the Welsh language had been decreasing. At one time, less than half the population could speak it. It was only in recent years that the language was revived, and the cultural aspect of education has also been strengthened. As a result, there were more young people who could speak the language than old people. However, there was no such tendency in this village, which was probably due to the lack of communication with the rest of the world.
The hooded girl was also surprisingly respected by the villagers.
Though not all of them were like this, about half of them would first give an extremely formal salute to the girl before they spoke to us, as if they had seen a member of the nobility. Or perhaps I should call it awe? Either way, they did not treat her lightly.
Or perhaps I should call it the sort of worship you would expect to see towards an idol.
That’s what it reminded me of. Idol worship.
Rather than treating her as a person, it was like they were treating a holy object. Even though the attitudes were similar to the priest and the nun, they were more earnest, and seemed to be filled with joy. It was very weird.
…If that was the case, why was the girl so shy?
Being revered in a small village seemed more likely to make someone arrogant than shy. Okay, maybe I would be the only person who would become arrogant, but at least she shouldn’t be timid.
The subtle paradox of the situation disturbed my mind with a flood of questions.
But at least we now had a clear picture of the terrain.
The village was roughly the shape of an ellipse that had been squashed to the north and the south. It was shaped like the gourd that my brother had received when he was traveling in the Far East. The church was in the middle, and the swamp was on the south. The lodge we stayed at last night was in the west of the village.
“Ah, but once in a while, libraries and merchants with a lot of goods come by. I’ve looked forward to those days since I was little!”
“Libraries, huh. Do you like reading books?”
“Yes, I like detective novels, especially the classics…”
The girl sounded like she was excited for a moment, but then immediately returned to her original state as if a fire had been doused out.
“…I’m sorry. I’m always thinking about myself.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You were simply answering my question,” my brother said, smiling bitterly while shaking his head.
“Though we’ve only spoken for a couple of sentences, I can tell that you’re being troubled by something. However, there’s no need to think so lowly of yourself. You can have more faith in yourself.”
“Faith… in myself, you mean.”
“After all, didn’t Mr. Bersac give you the job of a guide because he trusts you? Even if you can’t trust yourself, you can trust the people around you, can’t you?”
“…”
The girl’s shoulders trembled briefly. It was the same feeling as when we had heard that piercing sound, but this time she only shook her left hand a couple of times.
She looked to the side and didn’t meet my brother’s eyes.
“Are you… that way too?”
“I used to be an absolute fool when I was younger. I never had real-self confidence for a moment. Even so, I lived for a while, and got to know a couple of idiots who believed in me.”
The girl put her hand over her right shoulder and fell into silence again.
“Well, now I can ask you. What happened after that? Why would that brother of mine take you in as a disciple?”
“……”
That question made a cold feeling of dread settle in my heart.
It was what I had escaped from. What I kept trying to avoid.
Something I definitely would not touch after I came to London.
I took a deep breath. I needed to be brave. At least, I should tell her about it. But how? My mind was still a mess. With much difficulty, I managed to get the words out of my throat.
“Someone… died.”
Hearing this, Reines frowned.
“Died? Who?”
“……”
After a few seconds of silence, I uttered two more words.
“…I …Did.”
Reines’ expression froze for a few seconds. Trimmau still poured tea for me as usual. It was the only time that the aroma did nothing to calm me.
“At the… Case in my hometown, I… Died.”
“Wait, this isn’t a metaphor for saying that the ‘you of the past’ died, right?” Reines asked.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
book 6
…If it was now, then I would have probably told him that he deserved to be thanked regardless.
Back then, I had just come to London and hadn’t spoken to other people much.
Back then, I was comforted by the soft, easing scent. Though I knew that that wasn’t the original intent of the lecturer, I still wanted to thank him for the warm feeling that it sent through my heart, but…
book 6
I knew that I did not fit in here.
I was not a mage, just a disciple of my mentor. I was only allowed to sit here because of a long trail of coincidences. Though I was aware of this, the fact that I was a member of this classroom was imprinted into my heart.
I had made a misconception.
The misconception that I could continue to stay there. Just as these feelings circled through my mind, a familiar word resounded through the classroom.
book 6
no subject
Reines laughed as I frantically waved my hands.
Her laughter made me feel slightly relieved. This was the first time I realized that a smile from a friend could put you at ease.
I breathed in and nodded.
“Master said that he hoped I could help him. If so, putting forth all my effort is my duty as a disciple. Therefore, I must face this. Since I am here, I hope that Miss Reines can tell me.”
village description
Either way, this sort of place was not uncommon in the Welsh countryside. Since it was on such a steep hill, delivery trucks probably wouldn’t be able to enter easily, so it was inevitable that it would be so undeveloped.
When we opened the large door of the church, it was surprisingly spacious inside. The ceiling was quite high, and the interior was well-cleaned, giving it a quiet atmosphere. Though it wasn’t grand, both the golden candelabras and the wooden pews were swept devoid of dust. The devoutness of the village was plain to see. There would probably be quite a few people gathered here every Sunday, sitting in a place where all was silent except for the fat priest’s preachings.
But the most eye-catching thing was deep inside the church.
“…A Black Madonna (in Western Christendom, used to refer to a painting or statue of the Virgin Mary and infant Jesus that are depicted in black).”
Indeed, it was a statue of the Virgin Mary that was dyed in inky black. Though she still held the infant Jesus in her hands, her stature seemed different, and full of majesty. She stood straight, and her gleaming eyes stared downwards. She seemed more like a female general than a kind mother.
“Besides that, if you wish to stay in this village, there are a few rules that you must follow.” Bersac said.
He raised four fingers.
“First, you must pray to the statue of the Holy Mother when you enter. You have already done this.” He lowered his index finger.
“Second, do not go out late at night.”
“Third, do not go to the graveyard alone. Fourth, though multiple people can enter the graveyard, do not ever enter the swamp. I hope you can follow these rules.”
Well, well.
We toured around the village with the girl as our guide, and learnt quite a bit from conversing with the villagers. For example, even though this was in Wales, English was spoken here.
For some historical reasons, the number of speakers of the Welsh language had been decreasing. At one time, less than half the population could speak it. It was only in recent years that the language was revived, and the cultural aspect of education has also been strengthened. As a result, there were more young people who could speak the language than old people. However, there was no such tendency in this village, which was probably due to the lack of communication with the rest of the world.
The hooded girl was also surprisingly respected by the villagers.
Though not all of them were like this, about half of them would first give an extremely formal salute to the girl before they spoke to us, as if they had seen a member of the nobility. Or perhaps I should call it awe? Either way, they did not treat her lightly.
Or perhaps I should call it the sort of worship you would expect to see towards an idol.
That’s what it reminded me of. Idol worship.
Rather than treating her as a person, it was like they were treating a holy object. Even though the attitudes were similar to the priest and the nun, they were more earnest, and seemed to be filled with joy. It was very weird.
…If that was the case, why was the girl so shy?
Being revered in a small village seemed more likely to make someone arrogant than shy. Okay, maybe I would be the only person who would become arrogant, but at least she shouldn’t be timid.
The subtle paradox of the situation disturbed my mind with a flood of questions.
But at least we now had a clear picture of the terrain.
The village was roughly the shape of an ellipse that had been squashed to the north and the south. It was shaped like the gourd that my brother had received when he was traveling in the Far East. The church was in the middle, and the swamp was on the south. The lodge we stayed at last night was in the west of the village.
We also went to visit the church again.
no subject
“Ah, but once in a while, libraries and merchants with a lot of goods come by. I’ve looked forward to those days since I was little!”
“Libraries, huh. Do you like reading books?”
“Yes, I like detective novels, especially the classics…”
The girl sounded like she was excited for a moment, but then immediately returned to her original state as if a fire had been doused out.
“…I’m sorry. I’m always thinking about myself.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You were simply answering my question,” my brother said, smiling bitterly while shaking his head.
“Though we’ve only spoken for a couple of sentences, I can tell that you’re being troubled by something. However, there’s no need to think so lowly of yourself. You can have more faith in yourself.”
“Faith… in myself, you mean.”
“After all, didn’t Mr. Bersac give you the job of a guide because he trusts you? Even if you can’t trust yourself, you can trust the people around you, can’t you?”
“…”
The girl’s shoulders trembled briefly. It was the same feeling as when we had heard that piercing sound, but this time she only shook her left hand a couple of times.
She looked to the side and didn’t meet my brother’s eyes.
“Are you… that way too?”
“I used to be an absolute fool when I was younger. I never had real-self confidence for a moment. Even so, I lived for a while, and got to know a couple of idiots who believed in me.”
The girl put her hand over her right shoulder and fell into silence again.
Next, my brother asked.
no subject
“……”
That question made a cold feeling of dread settle in my heart.
It was what I had escaped from. What I kept trying to avoid.
Something I definitely would not touch after I came to London.
I took a deep breath. I needed to be brave. At least, I should tell her about it. But how? My mind was still a mess. With much difficulty, I managed to get the words out of my throat.
“Someone… died.”
Hearing this, Reines frowned.
“Died? Who?”
“……”
After a few seconds of silence, I uttered two more words.
“…I …Did.”
Reines’ expression froze for a few seconds. Trimmau still poured tea for me as usual. It was the only time that the aroma did nothing to calm me.
“At the… Case in my hometown, I… Died.”
“Wait, this isn’t a metaphor for saying that the ‘you of the past’ died, right?” Reines asked.
Seeing my nod, she sighed.