Deculein vanished.
But he left many traces behind.
A fairy-language vocabulary list. Magic theory. A notebook of math homework. And the memories held within my head.
It was a lesson I would never forget.
Yet not a single trace of him remained. Not the hem of his clothes, not a strand of hair, not even a loose thread—everything had faded away as though burned by fire.
No, if it had burned, at least ash would have remained.
He melted.
Like paint dropped into the sea.
“…….”
Left alone, Sylvia placed a finger on her lips.
Tap, tap—she tried touching them.
The sensation was vivid, and the scene replayed itself.
“……Idiot.”
The courage with which she had crashed her lips against his had been arbitrary. Closer to desire, or impulse. Because of that, regret surged up as well.
But it was the only trace left.
Thinking that she had left at least one thing behind did not feel so bad.
Tick—tock—
After looking at the ticking clock, Sylvia rose. She went to the window. She opened it.
“Deculein is dead.”
At the foot of the lighthouse. Words spoken to the scarecrow hiding like a scarecrow among the trees. Then the scarecrow looked up at her, turned around, and went off somewhere.
Sylvia closed the window.
Then she leaned against the wall.
Sliiide…… Her body slipped down as though sliding. Her hips touched the floor. Her two legs sprawled out on their own.
This is unbecoming.
She repeated that to herself and tried to stand, but there was no strength in her body. Her head spun as though she had suffered mana exhaustion. Her temples ached. Her eyelids were heavy.
Sleep slowly came over her.
“…….”
Sylvia quietly closed her eyes. In that darkness, Deculein bloomed.
He had accepted the betrayal of the woman he had loved most with composure. With only the words that it was all right, that he could bear it, he had not run away.
And so he died.
Sylvia touched her lips again. The trace that had seemed as though it would remain for eternity had already evaporated, and a small dampness touched the corner of her mouth.
It was a tear.
A mischievous child that flowed without its owner knowing, wetting her face.
“……Idnik.”
She called Idnik softly.
Now there was something I had to do.
Since the fake had died, it was time to make him again.
……No.
Creeeak—
Idnik, who had been standing outside, opened the door. She approached with a reluctant expression and asked,
“……Kid. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Other people’s wounds. You’re not supposed to eavesdrop on them as you please.”
“You’re one to talk, when you even developed magic for spying on Deculein?”
“……I have the right. He’s the person who killed my mother.”
Sylvia glossed it over that way and held out her hand to Idnik.
“Give it to me. The crystal ball.”
“You mean to make him again right away?”
“……No.”
She shook her head.
“I’m going to break it.”
Sylvia was thinking.
Perhaps Deculein’s words were right.
The death of a fake was still death. A farewell like this was still a farewell.
So…….
“You intend to break the contract?”
“…….”
At Idnik’s words, Sylvia furrowed her brow. Idnik handed over the crystal ball and said,
“The only one who can complete the current you is that professor.”
“……The only one who can break me is also that professor.”
“What’s the difference?”
“…….”
For a moment, Sylvia’s face stiffened. Idnik smiled faintly.
“Sylvia. What you are to complete is the egg that confines you, and what you are to break is also the egg that confines you. Whether you complete it or break it, in the end, you become yourself. The self that you choose.”
Whether she became Sylvia trapped inside a flawless egg of the three primary colors, or Sylvia who broke the shell and emerged.
The result of loss was, in the end, one’s own choice.
* * *
“……I see.”
The guild room. Jukaken had heard what Al Los had to say. He smacked his lips for no reason and nodded.
“So the professor’s lifespan is about two weeks, huh?”
Al Los was silent. She sat quietly in a chair. She looked at the things the previous Deculein had left on the desk.
A bundle of magic theory. Sylvia’s private tutor employment contract. A sketch he had drawn for amusement, using her as a model.
“……Ohoho. What’s wrong? Feeling a bit lonely?”
Watching Al Los, Jukaken asked as though mocking her. Al Los did not spare him even the slightest glance.
“Is the work done?”
“I dug out the framework. The largest circle of that magic circle, I mean. But you see. If Deculein is dead, then…….”
He drew out the end of his sentence meaningfully. Al Los glanced sideways at him.
“Does that mean there’s no Deculein daily pay today?”
As expected, he was a bastard who cared only for cash coins.
Jukaken shrugged, and the strength drained from Al Los’s entire body.
“You’re really fucking something.”
“No~ If we have that, we can decorate this guild room nicely. Then it’ll be a benefit to the next Deculein too, right? In this filthy place—of course, that guy would probably say even a garbage dump is beautiful if he’s with you—but anyway, isn’t it better to decorate it?”
“Don’t you know about inflation? One plank costs three cash coins.”
“So what?”
“…….”
Al Los picked up a cash coin.
This coin was perfect currency. She did not know where it had come from. It was not the Voice’s, nor was it Sylvia’s.
Therefore, this cash coin was not the Voice’s currency; more precisely, the Voice was borrowing this “perfect currency” and using it as legal tender.
Thus, every item purchased with cash coins was real, and even if used within the Voice, one would not lose their memories.
“In any case, we’ve been left behind.”
Al Los put the cash coin into her pocket.
“What are you talking about? The one left behind isn’t us. It’s you.”
“…….”
She looked back at Jukaken. He had bought clean lumber with five cash coins.
“Is there anyone besides you that the professor treated like a person? Well, of course, with Gerek, it’s only right that they don’t treat each other like people.”
Watching him attempt to make a desk from the lumber first, Al Los asked,
“……Jukaken. You fucker.”
“Why are you cursing at me, you crazy bitch?”
“Who do you believe?”
“Who?”
“Between the Altar and the professor.”
Jukaken narrowed his brow. Then he purchased a toolbox with cash coins. It was enough to call it a “purchase” in every sense. After all, he had spent hundreds of them.
Al Los was aghast.
“You fucking bastard. That’s a month’s worth of food—”
“I believe in myself.”
“…….”
“And what do you mean, who do I believe? Is there any point judging a lunatic by his campaign promises? To ordinary people like us, whether it’s the Altar or the professor, they’re all the same kind of lunatic. Well, of course, Deculein is better since he’s at least handsome.”
Ugh……
Al Los sighed and sank into her chair.
Suddenly, the sketch Deculein had left behind caught her eye.
“But then again, the professor sure is addictive. I miss him. I didn’t know when I used to clash with him in the old underworld. Maybe it’s because he’s changed a lot since then? Back then, he really was a complete son of a bitch.”
Al Los.
No, Cynthia.
The drawing of herself.
Beneath it was even the artist’s signature, unlike him.
—To Al Los.
Seek faith for yourself.
(Book of Sefern, Chapter 5, Verse 15)
“He’s quoting a gospel verse.”
When he did not even believe in religion.
“But you know, Jukaken.”
……And yet this sentence clearly provoked contemplation in Al Los.
If she betrayed Deculein and returned to the Altar with his head.
Or if, according to Deculein’s will, she raised a force to oppose the Altar.
What would be the result of those two choices?
“What do you intend to do if the Altar’s god descends?”
“First, I’ll have to find out whether that god is real or fake.”
“If it’s real.”
“I’ll make an excuse.”
“What will you say?”
“That I didn’t know you were a real god. That if I’d known you were a real god, I would have believed too. If he’s a real god, he’ll gladly forgive me. Because he’s real.”
“…….”
What kind of bullshit is that?
Al Los muttered inwardly and tucked the sketch into her chest. Still, it was the first portrait she had ever received in her life, so she did not want to throw it away out of needless pride.
After that, neither of them said anything.
……Saw, saw. The sound of Jukaken cutting lumber with a saw.
……Rustle, rustle. The sand from the ceiling falling as though keeping rhythm.
In the midst of that peace, Al Los quietly let time pass.
There was nothing more for her to do here.
Her role was to deliver the memories of the previous Deculein to the next Deculein.
Snap—!
At last, Jukaken finished cutting the lumber. Al Los, who had been glancing at him, pondered for about five minutes before rising.
Seeing her stride over, Jukaken asked,
“What now?”
“I’ll do it with you. I’m kind of bored.”
“……Suit yourself.”
In truth, rather than being bored, she lacked “tension.”
When Deculein had been here, she had been dizzy, as though dragged around by every word from the mouth that praised her, every gaze that looked at her, every movement of his.
Saw, saw— Saw, saw—
Hammer, hammer— Hammer, hammer—
The sound of lumber being cut and tools striking together resounded throughout the guild room. The beads of sweat shed by the two of them wet the dust on the floor.
……As they waited for someone who would soon return.
* * *
Bang, bang—! Bang, bang—!
The next day. Al Los, who had been sleeping sprawled out any which way, opened her eyes at the pounding sound. She wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth.
—Hey! You bastards! It’s Deculein!
Idnik’s voice. Startled, Al Los quickly pulled on her mask. Likewise, she kicked the sprawled-out Jukaken.
“Ugh! What the hell, you crazy bitch!”
“Open the door. Deculein’s here.”
“……Already? That was fast. Haaam~”
Jukaken trudged over and opened the door.
Creeeeak——
The wooden door opened slowly.
Watching beyond it, Al Los swallowed.
Revealed through the creaking gap in the door was Deculein’s face.
Blue eyes without a single flaw, filled only with certainty in himself. Dignity and elegance that did not falter at any moment.
“…….”
But right now, he seemed not to know that she was Al Los, and for some reason, she bit her lip.
“Deculein. Over there is Jukaken. You know him, right?”
“I do.”
He nodded. Jukaken snickered and waved.
“Nice to see ya~”
“This one is Al Los.”
Idnik pointed at Al Los. Deculein’s brow furrowed slightly.
“She is masked.”
“So she is.”
Step. Deculein took one step closer.
Al Los handed him a bundle of papers. It was hundreds of pages of magic formulae and Sylvia’s private tutor contract.
“Take it. These are…… things left by the previous you. Calling them relics of the deceased seems to go a bit too far, doesn’t it?”
Deculein, who accepted them, seemed lost in thought for a moment, but soon twisted the corner of his mouth. It was his characteristic sneer.
“They are not relics. The previous me and the present me are both still me.”
“……You seem different.”
“However.”
Deculein swept his gaze around. His face distorted with contempt and disbelief.
“Was I living in a garbage heap like this? This space is so filthy that even breathing in it is repulsive.”
At that, Jukaken smiled. Idnik wore a similarly sly expression.
“The previous you lived here just fine. He even slept here. Though not lying down.”
“You speak madness, Jukaken. Are you an imbecile?”
Jukaken chuckled and looked back at Al Los. It meant for her to take off her mask, but Al Los shook her head.
Idnik said,
“At any rate. Read that magic theory. It’s our only hope of escaping this place. Private lessons start tomorrow, every day at three in the afternoon, so don’t forget.”
“…….”
Deculein did not answer.
The sixth professor, the sixth Deculein.
He already had his eyes fixed on the magic theory. He was absorbed, glaring at the lines, circles, and formulae on the paper.
“Then I’m off.”
Idnik was the first to leave.
Thud— As soon as the door closed, sand rustled down from the ceiling.
And then…….
Endless silence.
One minute became ten minutes, ten minutes became an hour, and one hour became three.
Gwaaah…… Gwaaah……
Jukaken’s snoring after falling asleep again.
Amid that monstrous noise, Deculein, who had been reading the theory, suddenly raised his head. He looked straight at Al Los.
“……How curious.”
At his words, her heart was pricked for no reason. Al Los tilted her head.
“What is curious, you mean?”
“In the corner of this theory, the previous me seems to have written a sentence.”
“……A sentence?”
“Yes.”
There was distrust in Deculein’s voice. It was the face of someone suspecting his previous self.
“When inspiration does not readily come…… Al Los. It says to look at your face.”
“……What?”
Al Los was dumbfounded. But before she could open her mouth to say anything, Deculein continued.
“Also, it says to trust you. It was left behind like some sort of will.”
“…….”
For a moment, Al Los’s face stiffened. She clenched her teeth for no reason.
Deculein stared intently at her.
“Good grief.”
At last, Al Los let out a deep sigh and removed her mask. Deculein’s reaction upon seeing that face was simple.
He merely nodded, as though he understood.
* * *
The very next day.
The sixth Deculein visited Sylvia’s house.
Sylvia silently looked up at him. The new Deculein showed her the contract.
“Pleased to meet you. I am your private tutor, Deculein.”
For some reason, that line was funny.
Was it Deculein’s humor?
Probably not.
“Mm. Come in.”
Sylvia said so, but for some reason, her throat tightened.
“I shall.”
It was strange.
The fact that he truly did not remember that she had stolen his lips, that Yu Ara had betrayed him.
But for the moment, it did not matter.
“Have you diligently reviewed in the meantime?”
Deculein spoke as though he were the exact same person as the previous Deculein.
Sylvia was a little confused.
Whether the fifth Deculein and the sixth Deculein were the same person, or different people.
It was difficult to tell, but truly, for the moment, it did not matter.
“Mm. I reviewed diligently. Even though it’s only been two days.”
Sylvia said.
“And you don’t know this, but. If I review diligently.”
One step. She hopped forward.
She stepped into Deculein’s embrace.
Spreading both arms wide, she hugged him. She buried her face in his chest.
“You promised to hug me. You said that was the reward.”
“…….”
Deculein said nothing. He only remained still.
Perhaps he had frozen.
Or perhaps he thought her words were true.
Whatever the case…… Sylvia said,
“You may find it absurd.”
Her voice, wet with moisture, trembled unbecomingly.
But what could he do?
Even if it was a lie, he would not know anyway.
In any case, this memory, too, would soon be forgotten.
“It’s true.”
Repeating it in her heart, Sylvia closed her eyes for a moment in his arms.