I am in the basement, devising a magic circle. The grand magic I intend to realize is still far beyond even 「Comprehension」, so there are many parts where I find myself stuck.
I have many concerns as well. Countless ideas tangle and twist inside my head.
Perhaps because this is work I am doing, yet not work I will complete.
Or perhaps because, in the end, even I cannot be wholly free from a “predetermined death.”
“……He’s gone.”
Al Los said, her ear pressed to the ceiling. I looked at her and jerked my chin.
“Then come sit down.”
“Why?”
“When I look at you, magic comes to mind. Inspiration.”
“…….”
At that, Al Los glanced at the paper I was scribbling on.
“What are you going to do with that tiny piece of paper?”
“It is a very small part of the magic circle. Over a hundred thousand sheets like this must come together for the grand magic to be completed.”
Simply put, it was a puzzle. Of course, if I were using commercially available “magic paper,” there would be no need to go as far as several hundred thousand pieces, but this was ordinary paper obtained with coins.
“Seen up close, a magic circle is covered in all manner of formulas, but seen from afar, it is a work of art. Lines and circles form circuits, mana flows through them, and harmony is achieved.”
“……I know magic too.”
“I suppose so. You must have had a magic teacher as well.”
Al Los flinched. Ahem. She cleared her throat and shook her head.
“I am self-taught.”
“Puppetry is not something one can learn and bring to bloom alone. Especially not in the Ashes.”
“I managed.”
I already knew who her teacher was. There was no need to ask. In the setting, it was Adrienne, and in reality, it was likely the same.
I took a sheet of paper from my inner pocket.
“Take it.”
“……A contract?”
Al Los’s brow narrowed suspiciously.
“If I die, you need only deliver it to me. Then I will know at once what must be done.”
It was an employment contract stating the obligatory clauses, with Sylvia’s signature and mine written on it.
Al Los nodded, but her face stiffened at one particular clause.
“What does this Article 3 mean? It says you will teach Sylvia magic.”
“It means exactly what it says. I will help Sylvia perfectly realize this voice.”
“…….”
At that, Al Los silently crossed her arms. She seemed to be considering my intentions.
I said,
“It is a wager.”
“A wager?”
“Her magic and my magic. Which of the two will be completed first. The loser will step back without lingering attachment.”
“……Isn’t that dangerous? If that woman finishes first, we’re all screwed.”
At Al Los’s question, I shook my head.
“It is a somewhat shameful trick.”
Snap—
The pencil with which I had been drawing the magic circle suddenly broke. Al Los’s gaze fell on the pencil and my fingers.
“In this wager, I will never lose.”
“……Why?”
“Because the more Sylvia’s magic develops, the more ‘I’ become like myself.”
“…….”
Al Los did not understand, but Deculein was, by nature, an existence that could not be imitated. A human being who could not be mimicked.
Nevertheless, the fact that Sylvia had managed to realize me even to this degree was probably because the me beyond the sea had granted some sort of “permission.”
“If I become like myself, I will dismantle Sylvia’s magic.”
“……Even if there is a contract?”
“A contract with a demon is void.”
“…….”
Breaking contracts and betrayal were things the original Deculein did as easily as eating. No matter how much he had become a Deculein mixed with Kim Woojin, if the target was Sylvia, who had borrowed a demon’s power, he would ruthlessly tear it apart.
I looked back at Al Los.
“As you know, I am still incomplete. I think and move like Deculein, but something is lacking, and in the end, I am dying.”
Perhaps now, I might be closer to Kim Woojin than to Deculein.
No matter if it was the effect of my disposition, I was so captivated by Al Los’s beauty, and I felt such aching pity for Sylvia that my heart throbbed.
“Al Los. If you meet the original me, you must be careful as well.”
I was reflected in Al Los’s eyes. A clear light, like a mystical lake deep within a forest. Truly, an appearance suited to stirring Deculein’s impulses.
“I am satisfied with merely looking at you like this and gaining inspiration.”
I placed a hand on her face. I caressed it gently, as though handling a treasure.
“But he may try to have you preserved.”
In terms of “art,” Al Los was perfect.
Her trait was peerless, and precisely because of that, to Deculein, she was no different from an excellent item.
“Simply holding you in one’s eyes is enough to endlessly call forth inspiration, and art like that is rare.”
“……Is that so.”
“I do not wish for you to die or become unhappy.”
“…….”
Al Los avoided my eyes. Like a turtle, she drew her face back.
“Unhappy art has its own value, but if it withers and disappears, one cannot look upon it for long.”
I smiled and withdrew my hand.
“Make a doll before then. A doll to face the original me. And hide your main body. Passing by in a fleeting moment or meeting once should be fine, but do not remain long or close before me.”
I explained the code of conduct. Al Los listened quietly.
“It is rather regrettable and unfortunate that the original me will not be able to encounter the art that is you, but it cannot be helped. If you are to last.”
In that instant, Al Los’s expression hardened coldly.
“Last? I am human. Not art.”
“Yes. You are human. But why, then, did you hate yourself enough to hide behind a doll?”
“…….”
With a single sentence, he was rendered speechless. Every moment that expression changed was more mysterious than a canvas by da Vinci.
“Perhaps you have already been preserved by yourself. Until you break free from that self-loathing, I will be your death variable.”
“……Death variable?”
If it was Al Los, who had no confidence in herself, Deculein might gladly preserve her. A human who hated herself was worth less than most works of art.
But if it was Al Los, who had accepted herself, Deculein might leave her alive. As Al Los said, he might keep her by his side not as “art,” but as a “human”—no, as an “artistic human.”
“Let us end the chatter here.”
“……You were the one who started talking.”
I focused once more on designing the magic.
Snap—!
However, before long, another pencil broke. It was because my control of strength had become imperfect.
Al Los asked,
“Is that proof you are dying?”
I nodded silently.
The more I exist as I am now, and the more I use mana, the more I break down. Even if no one kills me, I will likely last only a week at most.
“I see.”
Al Los nodded to herself, then fell silent for a while. Looking at me, and at the magic circle I was recording.
“……Professor.”
After a long while, she murmured quietly.
“You are an eccentric even hard to find in the Ashes.”
“Shut your mouth. Even if it is you, you cannot compare me to trash vermin like those of the Ashes.”
“…….”
Good grief.
Al Los shook her head as if dumbfounded.
* * *
I visited Sylvia every day at a set time.
“Today, after I inspect your magic circuits, we will have a lesson in fairy language.”
“…….”
Sylvia only nodded without a word. Since it was an insolent attitude, I flicked her on the forehead.
“…….”
Caught by surprise, Sylvia stared blankly up at me. As if she was thinking through what had just been done to her.
“……Ow.”
Belatedly, she let out a cry and rubbed her forehead.
“I dislike corporal punishment, but from now on, if you do not answer, you get one. Sit.”
I placed the materials I had prepared on her desk. Perhaps feeling wronged after being hit, Sylvia approached and sat down with a sullen, swollen face.
Then she grumbled,
“My skull almost broke.”
“It seems I failed to control my strength.”
“I’m not lying. My head hurts. You were trying to kill me.”
I looked at Sylvia’s forehead and flinched in surprise. It had truly swollen badly, like some sort of unicorn’s horn.
It must indeed have been a problem of strength control.
“……Then be sure to listen to me properly. First, this part of your circuit is wrong.”
I pointed to one circuit in the formula Sylvia had written. It was a core circuit twisted like a knot, composed of thirteen straight lines forming one section.
“It’s different.”
Sylvia objected.
“No. It is wrong.”
“There’s no wrong answer in magic.”
“It is wrong.”
“You’re keeping me in check. To win the wager.”
At Sylvia’s words, I pretended to prepare another forehead flick. Sylvia’s body trembled, and she sprang to her feet, pressing herself against the wall of the room.
“I do not engage in shameless acts such as keeping someone in check. Remember this. In the world of magic, there may be no correct answers, but there are wrong answers. ‘Inefficiency’ is wrong.”
“…….”
Sylvia glared at my poised fingers and clamped her mouth shut.
It must have hurt terribly.
“Answer.”
“……I understand.”
Only then did I lower my hand, and Sylvia returned to sit beside me.
* * *
The next day, I visited Sylvia again. Sylvia’s attire was different from the day before.
Yesterday, she had been wearing the plain, single-colored noble attire common among young noble ladies, but today, it was a dress with one more line of lace.
“Today, after I instruct you on your magic circuits, we will do fairy language composition. You reviewed, I assume.”
“……I did.”
Even if only because she feared punishment, she answered promptly every time. Her informal speech bothered me, but it would be right to correct each thing one by one.
“Sit.”
“Okay.”
She came over and sat, showing me the magic circuits she had revised.
I examined them thoroughly. Part by part, checking whether there was anything inefficient or lacking.
“……Good.”
I nodded. It was indeed an answer sheet that clearly revealed Sylvia’s magical talent.
“…….”
Sylvia said nothing, but she clenched the fist she had hidden under the desk. Finding the sight needlessly cute, I twisted one corner of my mouth.
In that instant, Sylvia’s eyes widened.
“Ah, you smiled.”
“……Do not let your guard down.”
I quickly hardened my expression.
“A lecture on circuit efficiency is easy to begin with. Anyone can understand it. The problem is optimally matching the ‘compatibility’ between circuits. Magical accidents usually occur when one tries to forcibly connect circuits that are incompatible…….”
I continued the lesson, but for some reason Sylvia’s expression was round and soft. She looked rather satisfied.
…….
The next day, and the day after that, and the day after the day after that, and the day after the day after the day after that.
At the same time every day, I visited Sylvia.
At the same time every day, Sylvia’s attire as she faced me changed day by day.
On the first day, it had been plain clothing, but as each day passed, one line of pattern or one accessory was added to her outfit, until now she wore a fashion that would suit a social gathering of girls her age—neither excessive, but lively and beautiful.
Of course, her magical ability also developed rapidly. Sylvia absorbed what I taught like a sponge and applied it quickly.
She was indeed worthy of the talent of an archmage.
However, as expected, not everything was perfect.
“Fairy language must be difficult. Fifty points, I see.”
“…….”
Sylvia gloomily lowered her head. Though she had passed the short magic test well, she had suffered a crushing defeat in the fairy language dictation.
“It’s hard.”
“There is no need to be impatient. In any case, your time is more plentiful than mine.”
“…….”
At that, Sylvia became expressionless again and looked up at me. As if there was something she wanted to ask.
“Do you have a question?”
At my words, she nodded.
As I organized the class materials, I answered,
“Ask.”
“It’s not related to the lesson.”
“That is fine.”
“Aren’t you afraid.”
There was no rise or fall in her sentence, making it difficult to tell whether it was a question or a soliloquy, but I was used to that much by now.
I asked in return,
“What are you asking whether I fear?”
“Dying.”
Dying.
As she said, there was little of my life left now. I was an existence drawn to begin with, so when my lifespan ended, I would be sublimated into paint.
That, to me, was death.
“……If I die.”
I looked back at Sylvia. Sylvia faced me with her characteristic expressionless eyes.
“And the next me dies. And the next me after that dies. And then the one after that dies as well, in the end, the ‘purpose’ is one, so there is no need to be afraid.”
There is no need to be afraid.
Yes, only no “need” to be afraid.
Deep within my heart, perhaps I was afraid of death.
“However, Sylvia.”
“Yes.”
She answered calmly.
This child did not know one very important fact.
That was why I was worried about Sylvia.
“I will ask you.”
Sylvia blinked and tilted her head. Her appearance was clearly different from when we had first met.
“There is no need for me to fear my own death.”
I asked her,
“But are you all right?”
“…….”
Sylvia’s face stiffened slightly.
In truth, this too was one of the many purposes of the lessons.
“If I die, then I die, but the next me you revive afterward.”
I set down my pencil.
“Will forget all of these memories.”
Tick—tock— Tick—tock—
Time flowed.
Of the two hours promised for today, the remaining fifty-three seconds passed.
“Of course, the next me will continue this teaching.”
Within that ticking echo, Sylvia looked at me. She looked into my eyes.
I asked,
“Sylvia…… will you truly be all right with that farewell?”