“Huh...”
You know, I had been wondering where the other soldiers stayed who had been riding in the LAV. I guess it was these training grounds.
I decided to go have a look.
The training grounds turned out to look like a gigantic schoolyard. In one corner, I could see the dormitories and what looked like a storehouse, but other than that it was just a big, flat space. It definitely seemed like the sort of place soldiers would use to train. Incidentally, it looked like the JSDF was holed up in tents around the storehouse and the dorms. The words “Japan Self-Defense Force” printed across the dark-green tents were unmistakably out of place in this fantasy world.
But whatever.
“Are those—” My eyes went wide as I observed what I thought—what I was pretty sure—were soldiers training. Ten humans. Ten elves. Ten lizardmen. “—children?!”
“Well, yes,” Brooke said, with a tone of What is this guy so surprised about?
“But... But...”
Under the laws of Japan, I was still a minor myself, and the soldiers (?) on that field definitely included some kids who looked like they were in their mid-teens, or maybe even younger. About half of them were practicing with wooden swords, but the other half were making complicated gestures. Then they thrust out their right hands, and—
“Yikes!”
Popopopop! There was a series of small explosions, and a row of sparks showered the ground in front of them. Just for a second, I thought I’d seen balls of light come out of their outstretched palms.
“Is that...”
“Magic practice,” Minori-san confirmed. “Although they aren’t strong enough to really hurt anyone yet.”
“...Are they practicing Fireball?”
“Probably.”
No way. Before this display of genuine offensive magic I could only stand open-mouthed.
I was pretty sure I had heard that lizardmen lacked magical power, so it was impossible for them to really use magic, and indeed, it was all humans and elves standing there making sparks.
Even so, though...
“This is a training ground, after all,” Minori-san said with a bit of a frown. It was weird. She didn’t seem very happy about what she was seeing. “They’re mostly focused on those kids, who are going to be soldiers. Like we said, around here, the quickest way for a demi-human to find gainful employment is to join the army.”
According to Minori-san, demi-humans normally didn’t even have what we would think of as citizenship. But they could gain it if they joined the military and spent a certain amount of time as a soldier. Whether they stayed in the military after that or went and got a civilian job, service in the armed forces was the quickest way for demi-humans to make their way in the human world.
“I m’self was in the military once,” Brooke said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Of course. Otherwise, I surely wouldn’t have been allowed to work in a noble’s house.”
As a manservant, Brooke had to do a lot of physical labor; it was actually probably a pretty good job for a lizardman. A stint in the military would, I guessed, acted as proof that he was a halfway decent person and improved his chances of getting hired. Although Brooke had a magic ring just like the rest of us, it apparently wasn’t given to him because he worked with me, but rather had been granted when he joined the army.
“I presume Myusel was also in the armed forces at some point,” he said.
“No. Seriously?” I asked.
I didn’t doubt him; I just couldn’t imagine the willowy, vulnerable Myusel in the army. I guess there are a lot of different kinds of jobs in the military, so she wouldn’t necessarily have been on the front lines or anything.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Minori-san said, “but I wouldn’t press anyone about it if I were you. There are class divisions in our own world, too, and societies that accept them. Think about India, where there’s still effectively a caste system, even if it’s been officially outlawed.”
“...Yeah,” I said. “And I hear you can get citizenship through military service in the US, too.”
The point was, in a multiracial—practically multi-species—environment like this one, it wasn’t easy to just demand peace or equality. This went beyond skin color; lizardmen, for example, were clearly a different form of life. It was sort of like saying cats or dogs should be treated equally.
But still...
I heard some kind of bell ring.
“Oh,” Brooke said. “They’re on break.”
Apparently so: the kids scattered in small groups around the training grounds. A group of three elvish children headed straight for us.
“What’re you doing?” they asked, their eyes shining with curiosity. This sort of thing made it obvious that they really were still children—they couldn’t restrain their interest in something new.
“You seem different from the ‘sehlf dee-fens fource’ people. What are you here for?”
“Hmm...” I pondered how to explain, then beckoned Brooke over. I pulled out one of the manga I’d brought from the carrier on his back and showed it to the elf kids.
“I want to tell everyone about these things.”
“What’s that?”
The cover of this particular manga boasted a young man holding a sword. Maybe everyone here was already used to simplified or symbolic language because of all the signs around town; the people in the Eldant Empire didn’t seem to show any aversion to manga images like this. If anything, they really seemed to like them.
One of the kids took the manga from me and began turning the pages with obvious eagerness. But then...
“Hey, what’s it say?” he asked, upset.
He could get a sort of general sense that something interesting was going on, but being unable to read the thing sucked the fun out of it. We were definitely going to need to get our hands on a translator as quickly as possible.
Wait a second. Remember Myusel. Even if we translated these books, these kids probably couldn’t read their own language.
What was the educational system like here, anyway?
“What do you guys normally do for fun?” I asked.
“Fun? We don’t get to have any,” the elf children responded, puffing out their cheeks. “When there’s no training, we have to help cut the grass on the training field. Plus, there’s livestock to look after and fields to plant.” The boys were speaking quickly. They seemed to think I was making fun of them.
“H-Hold on. You mean...”
They didn’t have any time set aside just to play? Back in Japan, young children had all sorts of free time, and plenty of ways to enjoy it. Some kids might be inspired by the patrol cars on children’s TV programming to become detectives; others might find they enjoy collecting bugs so much that they decide to become a scholar.
But kids in this world didn’t have that kind of time. Adults around here just quietly did their jobs, and they would naturally expect kids to help. There was no way and no time to disseminate media. And anyway, they would subconsciously believe, based on experience, that that was simply the way the world was. It was practically brainwashing.
I pictured Myusel, studying hiragana late at night. How surprised she had been when I offered to help her learn to read and write, even though there was no practical benefit to me.
It struck me once again how much I—and all Japanese kids—had been brought up under a thick protective blanket. It wasn’t just a question of an educational system. It was a fundamental difference in national systems, in economic power, in the very construction of society. My happiness was a miraculous gift provided by the fortuitous alignment of a very, very specific set of circumstances.
Otaku are all about Japanese pop culture. Maybe that’s just a way of saying otaku couldn’t exist except in Japan or somewhere like it.
“You don’t read books or anything?”
“How could we? They’re super expensive, and only nobles and scholars can read and write
, anyway,” the kids answered, pursing their lips.
“Nobody teaches you? I mean, how to read and write?”
“What noble would teach a commoner how to do that?” the elves answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“...Hm.”
The most interesting manga. The most heart-pounding novels. The most exciting anime and games. These kids didn’t know about any of it; they didn’t even have the ability to understand it.
I just—
I patted one of the elf kids on the head. He gave me a mystified look. Suddenly, I found a wish forming in my heart. A wish to give kids like this something they could enjoy, even if only for a short while. To give them entertainment.
I was in a fantasy world, for crying out loud. At the very least, we could all enjoy ourselves by pretending to go on a little adventure.
We took a quick tour of town and got back to the mansion around three in the afternoon. That was the number on my watch, anyway; obviously, it wasn’t specifically a way of telling time used in this world. Matoba-san had told me that the length of a day and even a week here were about the same as in our world, so there was no need for me to reset my watch.
There was, of course, a reason we’d come back so early. There was a guest we had to entertain, one who visited nearly every day.
“Hmm!” Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Petralka of the Holy Eldant Empire, peered at a manga from where she was perched on my knees, which were now where she always sat. “To think that a bard would confront a crimson dragon, a designated dangerous species! Surely he stands no chance, armed only with his bow and his songs. What could he be thinking? Shinichi, will you not read the next page posthaste?!”
Petralka was in high spirits. Ever since her visit a few days ago, she had shown up every day at about this time and ordered me to read comic books to her. The way her voice rose as she demanded that I continue showed how earnestly the young ruler was enjoying the manga.
But what was the story here? Was it really all right for the ruler of the whole empire to take daily jaunts out of the castle like this? Yes, Zahar and several bodyguards waited just outside the room, but she still seemed just a little too cavalier. Even if, as I guessed, that knight Garius and Prime Minister Zahar were taking care of the real administrative work.
So here I was, all but wrapping my arms around a beautiful young woman sitting on my lap—if anyone had seen it, they might have wondered what I’d done to deserve such a reward. Yet from my perspective, it was surprisingly problematic.
Think of it this way: if I let even a remotely dirty thought enter my head, and if that should cause any biological change in me, Petralka would know immediately, and would probably have me beheaded for lèse-majesté.
It’s possible I might get away with a very profuse apology. Either way, these were not favorable working conditions. However light a girl might be, having her sitting on your lap for an hour or more will make your legs go numb. Reading all the dialogue and sound effects made my throat dry, so my voice started to crack. I really hoped she would let me go soon.
Just about at the time when, on a normal day, I figured we would soon be taking a break—
“Your Majesty. Master.” A knock and Myusel’s voice came from the other side of the door. “If you’ll pardon me.”
The door opened, and Myusel entered the office wheeling a silver cart. A sweet scent reached my nose. I looked at the cart and saw a silver platter piled with pastries that looked an awful lot like cream puffs. My eyes went wide; Myusel, with a shy smile, said, “Here’s tea, and cream runto to go with it.”
I found myself looking intently at her. “I didn’t ask for tea.”
“No, sir,” she said. “But I thought both of you might be getting tired about now...”
That was a maid for you! Very considerate. She’d brought us some sweets to revive our flagging energy.
“Thanks, that’s a help,” I said. “How about we take a little break, then?”
“What are you talking about?!” Petralka demanded angrily. “We’re just getting to a good part!”
“My throat’s bone-dry, I can hardly read. Come on, let’s have tea.” I smiled and adopted a tone like I was talking to a small child. But that had the opposite of the effect I wanted.
In retrospect, I realized how much it bothered Petralka that she looked so young, and how much she hated to be treated like a child. I knew she was sixteen, but not only did she not look like it, her constant, self-centered demands made her seem younger than she was and led me to speak the way I had.
Her displeasure was obvious. Slowly, the child empress got off my lap. I felt a momentary relief—until she spun and glared at Myusel. Then she began to upbraid her: “Who do you think you are, anyway! Base woman, always... always interfering!”
Perhaps she had been, in her own way, quietly putting up with Myusel’s behavior until now. Finally, all her annoyance came pouring out.
“Like just now! It’s as though you knew we were at a good part of the story!”
“I— I—!” Myusel had turned completely white under this withering assault. And no wonder. Childish or no, she was dealing with the empress of the entire nation here. “I just thought the master might be tired...”
That made perfect sense, but to the enraged absolute monarch, her words were like throwing gas on a fire.
“Do you dare speak back to us?!” Petralka’s voice was shaking; her face was as red as if she had been insulted. “You— You vile half-breed!”
“I’m v-very sorry...!” Myusel said, throwing herself prostrate on the ground.
Petralka almost made it sound like being a half-elf was a crime, and Myusel didn’t seem to know how to defend herself. She could only beg for forgiveness. I just stood there, agog at the textbook example of discrimination playing out before my eyes.
I have to do something. I don’t know what, but I have to stop this.
Despite the thought running through my head, anything I could say only seemed likely to fan the flames of Petralka’s rage. So I stood there, working my mouth open and closed.
Then, someone jumped straight into the middle of this hideous battle.
An exasperated voice came from the direction of the still-open door. “What’s all this commotion?”
“Oh...!”
I stiffened involuntarily. It was the silver-haired hunk, the knight Garius. He didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in me, partly because I had flat-out contradicted him the very first time we’d met, and partly because of Minori-san’s fujoshi fantasies about us. There was also his serious, unbending demeanor, the fact that he was both a scholar and a warrior, and just his overall air of total competence—it was all a bit much for me to handle.
“I heard you were here, Your Majesty, and when I come to check on you, what do I find?” He was looking into the office with a frown.
Garius’s appearance practically screamed goody two-shoes royal knight!!, so maybe he would take Petralka to task for abusing Myusel. I mean, knights were supposed to defend the defenseless, right?
“Petralka... Ahem, Your Majesty.”
“Hm?”
He glanced at Petralka, as well as the long-suffering Myusel, who was still on the ground, and heaved a sigh. Then he began walking toward the ruler...
“Er... Garius...-san...?”
...and then right past her. He calmly sat down on the sofa on the far side of the desk from me. He made no sign of trying to intervene with Petralka—in fact, it was almost as if he didn’t see either her or Myusel.
“Aren’t you going to stop her?”
“Once Her Majesty’s ire is aroused, it doesn’t easily subside,” he said bluntly. “Just bear with her until she tires herself out.”
He sounded like an older brother who had resigned himself to his little sister’s temper tantrums. Actually, come to think of it, I guess the two of them were technically related.
“No, wait, hang on, we have to stop this!”
&nbs
p; “Stop it? Why?” Garius asked, genuinely mystified. “If she’s too loud for you, just plug your ears.”
Is this guy for real?
“That’s not the problem! Myusel is—”
“Hm?” Garius blinked and took another look at Petralka and Myusel, as if noticing the maid’s existence for the first time. “Myusel? Is she that half-elf servant? What about her?”
“The empress is shouting her lungs out at her, even though she didn’t do anything wrong.”
“If the servant has done something to displease Her Majesty, what else would you expect?” He really didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at. “It’s not likely she’ll be killed, anyway. The occasional beating is an occupational hazard. Anyway, as a half-elf, she wouldn’t normally have been able to become a servant in a noble household. All the more reason she can consider this part of the job. I’m sure she knew this might happen. And if she didn’t, it only shows she’s not qualified to be a maid.”
“What the—?!” I stared at him, all but lost for words.
Right in front of my eyes, Myusel was being attacked for something she bore no responsibility for—a mere accident of birth—and there was nothing she could say to defend herself; she could only huddle in fear.
“If you want to hit me, try this.”
Those were the words with which Brooke had handed me a stick. I remembered how Myusel had been more worried about my injured hand than about Brooke, who had been beaten through no fault of his own.
Apparently, it was only natural. Here in the Eldant Empire, it was considered normal.
“Hrrgh...”
I felt an uncharacteristic anger simmering deep in my guts.
“Whatever happened to the knightly virtues?” I growled.
“Knightly virtues?” Garius raised a bemused eyebrow.
Even this simple gesture managed to ooze refinement. Outwardly, he really was the picture of the perfect knight. But everything he said was full of casual discrimination and bias. And I couldn’t stand it anymore.
The Power of Moe Page 12
