memory ; a misstep

[toxicate]

from here, my own translation



It was almost noon by the time Rorowa, Radylina and Mordalion entered the southern capital of Poldeem.

The capital was governed by lords from each district, and the barracks of the Second Order of the Royal Paladins, lead by Thegrea, were located here. They had decided to visit the barracks under Mordalion's supervision.

On this clear autumn day, a pleasant breeze was blowing through Poldeem. The city was beautifully maintained, with electric four-wheeled vehicles calmly passing by. Despite that, it wasn't out-of-place for Rorowa and the others to be riding horses alongside them, and one might say that the cityscape was typical for a country where sacred magicks and technology existed in harmony.

As they made their way leisurely to the barracks, an armoured horse with a grey-dappled coat began to approach from in front of the party. The rider was a human male in armour, with black hair in a neat centre part and thin, silver-rimmed glasses.

When the man came close enough to be in clear view, he noticed Mordalion and his expression twisted in clear distaste.

"Ugh."

"Oh, it's you."

Mordalion pulled back on Nigra's reins to stop him. The other man followed suit with the grey-dappled horse, and questioned him with a terse tone.

"What does someone like you want in Poldeem?"

"These guys want to see Thegrea."

The bespectacled man gave Rorowa and the others a haughty stare.

"A bioroid and flame dragon... you're not from around here. What a ridiculous request."

Feeling deeply uncomfortable, Rorowa questioned Mordalion from behind him in a low voice.

"This guy's being, like, super cautious, but you know him...?"

"That's Reinet, vice-commander of the Second Order of the Royal Paladins."

"He's that important-?!"

"Yup. But it's the glasses, right? Makes him look like your average bureaucrat, though I guess he's a bit skilled."

"H-hey, Mr. Mordalion...!"

Rorowa flustered, since Mordalion hadn't bothered to lower his volume at all. He could be heard clearly.

Reinet raised his voice while placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. "'Mordalion of the Silence', like hell! Today's the day I'll sew your mouth shut!"

"...but his short temper is his own problem." Seemingly unaffected by the threat, Mordalion let out a melancholy sigh. "Well, as you can see, the Royal Paladins and Shadow Paladins traditionally aren't on the best terms."

"Uh, no, I don't think it's as much the Shadow Paladins as it is Mr. Mordalion himself...?"

Rorowa raised an unexpected point. Or, Mordalion blinked once in surprise, at least.

"So it's my fault?"

"I think so."

Mordalion seemed to consider this, then turned to Reinet, tilting his head.

"Sowwy?"

It was an extremely cute gesture.

"Tch. Well, I suppose if you're actually remorseful..." Reinet began to nod with a grimace, but his chin was only halfway down when he came to his senses. He yelled as if trying to repel Mordalion entirely. "Y-you! Only the young and beautiful can use that trick, you'd do well to remember!"

Mordalion the elf was of a long-lived species.

"...is that right. Then, I've got another 50... no, 60 years..."

Ignoring Mordalion's overserious estimations, Reinet switched targets to Rorowa.

"You seem to be more sane than this guy, at least."

"Pro... bably...?"

He was thrown offguard by the fact that Mordalion's insentivity had suddenly become useful, even moreso when Reinet glanced toward the direction of the barracks.

"You said you wished to meet Master Thegrea. I regret to inform you, however, that the Lady is unavailable as she is preparing for a wedding taking place this evening."

"Ah, I see."

Thegrea was a woman of that age, after all, so of course there'd be a time she would be preparing for a wedding--

His thoughts caught up a moment later.

"A wedding?!"

Rorowa and Mordalion's perfectly harmonised screeches of surprise echoed into the autumn sky.


-------------------------


The shop was deliberately situated on the outskirts of the city, where there were fewer people, so the tops of coniferous trees swaying in the wind were visible through the window.

But at that moment, as the sunlight hit her cheek, Thegrea spotted an unknown black object streaking past.

"---"

She still had a serene smile on her face as she reached for the dressmaker's shears on the workbench beside her.

"Do you mind if I borrow your scissors?"

"? By all means."

Thegrea picked up the shears, tested the weight of the cold black iron in her hand, and threw them with a snap of her wrist.

The scissors traced a straight black trajectory right through a gap in the curtains out into the beyond. What they struck was the crown of one of the conifers.

"Wh-what's happening?!"

By the time Solau cried out, Thegrea had already jumped up onto the windowsill and was headed outside in her dress.

As she shoved her hand into the branches, she found a monitoring raven with its wing pierced through by the scissors, flapping and struggling to free itself.

Thegrea, who moments ago had been so excited about her new dress, took on the expression of a knight commander and yanked the scissors free, choosing first to cut with words.

"Peeping is in bad taste."

There was a heavy pause, then Mordalion stepped out from behind the tree. His hands were raised to his face contemplatively.

"That's my bad. I offer apologies."

"No thank you. You can repay with your life."

"...can I put it on my tab?"

"Unfortunately, good women don't wait for men."

Thegrea responded in turn, but this wasn't the same friendly ribbing that Reinet had contributed.

Deep within those blue eyes, the dark magenta of blooming hatred flickered like an unquenchable flame -- as if the blaze of a fierce battle was about to break out.

"--p-please wait a moment!"

A green silhouette broke the tension as it jumped out from behind Mordalion. As soon as she recognised it, Thegrea's murderous intent rapidly vanished.

"Oh, Mr. Rorowa!"

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop Mr. Mordalion..."

Rorowa bit his lip, feeling helpless.

It had been Mordalion that suggested they snoop on Thegrea. With a deeply serious expression, he had explained that he couldn't possibly believe that Thegrea was to be wed, and he would not rest until he unveiled the truth.

Radylina had shown absolutely zero interest and had continued on to the barracks along with Momokke, leaving Rorowa to stop Mordalion.

Which had ended in failure.

Thegrea, keeping the scissors aimed at Mordalion's throat, smiled pleasantly at Rorowa.

"I appreciate that you tried. How are you? After what happened in Thuri, I was worried about you."

"Um, fine, I think."

"That's good. What are you doing here?"

"Well..."


-------------------------



As they walked with Thegrea back to the barracks, Rorowa relayed to her the tale of his cursed wound. After hearing the whole story, Thegrea seemed lost in thought, eyes hooded by her lashes.

"The hint to healing it is in my sword...?"

"Yes. Any information would be useful. Do you know anything?"

Thegrea had changed out of the green gown to lighter, simpler white clothing, though it was still a neat one-piece dress that now had her sword hanging loosely against it. The people of Poldeem seemed to recognise this as an everyday occurrence, and while some citizens greeted her kindly, none looked at her strangely.

Thegrea touched the hilt of the huge blade.

"This was given to me by the Order when I became Leader. Blaster weapons, granted only to the Leaders and Deputies, should always remain under the Order's control." She explained, pausing before prefacing the rest with "Here is what I have been told.

It is said that this sword took its current form about fourteen years ago. I had heard that Girard, the Deputy Leader at the time, obtained a powerful magical stone which enhanced the sword's power. This was before I joined the Order, so perhaps someone who was actually in the Order at the time should know more about it."

Sarcastically concluding, Thegrea threw a look over her shoulder.

Mordalion was struggling along, burdened by large sacks of wheat and sugar.

This was his punishment for spying.

"My poor, delicate arms, so unlike yours..."

It was almost impressive that he could still run his mouth even now.

"Mr. Mordalion, you should be thankful you're still breathing," Rorowa chided gently.

Mordalion exhaled raggedly, voice sounding choked.

"Haa, haa... It's not like I know anything about that time either... Obscudeid was the Deputy at the time, so only he went on the joint mission, while I was just a platoon leader..."

"You're useless."

Thegrea cut him off mercilessly.

"What was the mission?" Rorowa asked, and Thegrea's eyes narrowed as she dug through her memory.

"Fourteen years ago... a particularly vicious demon beast had apparently appeared. Those two were tasked with hunting and suppressing it."

"I see. But Mr. Obscud... um, Obscudeid was a Shadow Paladin, right? Why was he hunting demon beasts?"

"Obscudeid was an unusual power type amongst the Fourth Order. That's probably why."

"Oh, I see."

The Obscudeid that Rorowa remembered was certainly a man of peak strength.

"Do you know about the demon beast they defeated, Mr. Mordalion?"

"The reports from that time have vanished... no, that's not exactly true," Mordalion corrected himself and tried again. "...most of the materials associated with former Leader Obscudeid have vanished. The only one that remains is the photo on the wanted list."

"Is that so..."

As if to comfort the despondent Rorowa, Thegrea made a suggestion with a bright tone to her voice.

"Then, how about going to the place that demon beast was defeated? I can accompany you tomorrow."

"Would that be okay?"

They were clutching at straws. After coming all this way, he wanted to find some kind of clue, no matter how trivial it might be.

However after a moment, Rorowa let out a "huh?" in confusion. "But, Ms. Thegrea, isn't the wedding today?"

He would be uncomfortable asking her to go out that far the day after her wedding.

"That's right, it's this evening. That's why I'm preparing the cake now. We're bringing the flour and sugar with us."

"You're making the cake yourself?"

"They've always said they wanted to have one of my cakes at their wedding."

"The other party did?"

"Yes, since I've been close friends with the bride, Lady Lilycra, for quite some time."

Rorowa calmly raised his right palm in the air.

"...um, hold on one moment, please."

"Oh?"

Thegrea's eyes slowly widened as she realised Rorowa and Mordalion's misunderstanding, and after a moment she began to laugh.

"It's not my wedding, dear. I was invited to the ceremony of Lady Lilycra, daughter of the Lord of Poldeem."

"I see. I was mistaken." Rorowa's earlobes glowed crimson with embarrassment.

"Lady Lilycra likes the cakes I make. I've long promised to be the one who made her wedding cake. So now, let's hurry along."

After walking a while longer, the barracks of the Second Order of the Royal Paladins came into view.


-------------------------


“--Rorowa!”

Radylina and Momokke appeared at the end of the corridor and ran up to them. Their clothes and skin were covered in sand, an implication they had been doing more than just waiting in the barracks.

Although Rorowa explained the misunderstanding regarding Thegrea's wedding, her response was a disinterested, "Oh, huh."

"So, you're heading out to that place from the past tomorrow. We've got some time. Thegrea, is there anything we can help you with?"

"Well..."

Thegrea mused, looking at the analog clock hanging on the stall wall. It was roughly 1pm.

"In that case, may I ask you to help me make the cake?"

"Of course."

"If there's anything I can do, I'd like to help."

"Thankyou, both of you."

The mood became more peaceful. Mordalion cut in with a bright tone to his voice.

"I'll help too."

"No thanks."

Rorowa, Radylina, and Thegrea said in sync.