“I didn’t think anyone was living here.”
“I didn’t expect anyone to come by.”
She had shown me to an elegant bedroom. As far as furnishings went, there was only a desk and a bed, but the room was quite spacious. I guessed that the entire house I had stayed at in the previous village could fit inside this room. What is this? What’s going on? Has she been sleeping here? It’s so luxurious.
“Where did you come from?” She pulled out a chair (a very expensive-looking chair, glittering in pointless gilded splendor) and sat down, then looked at me gently.
“I came from a country far, far away,” I said, “I am a traveler.”
“May I ask your name?”
“Elaina.”
“Is that so? I am Mirarose. Nice to meet you.” She smiled.
She had hair as red as blood, and as unkempt as if she’d been zapped with electricity. She wore a tattered dress, too. I was anxious that she might be prone to violence, but she seemed much nicer than I had expected.
“Why are you here, Mirarose?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Huh? What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I don’t know why I’m here.” Mirarose’s expression twisted. “When I awoke, I was in this ruined place.”
“That’s…”
It must be amnesia. But how? The country hadn’t met its demise yesterday or today. Even by a conservative estimate, it had already been in shambles for at least a month.
I asked her the first thing that came to mind. “Why haven’t you left? You could probably live a better life if you moved somewhere else instead of staying here. If you need money, I’m sure you can find some.”
If necessity arises, you can always steal valuables from the castle, too.
“……”
She seemed to mull it over for a little while, and then stood up. She pulled a single piece of paper out of a desk drawer and beckoned me over. “Here’s the reason why I can’t leave.”
She showed me the paper. It was covered from top to bottom in messy, meandering handwriting.
It seemed to be a letter. At her urging, I read it.
You, reading this letter, are the queen Mirarose. You know nothing, but I am certain of this.
Why are you here? Why is everything you see outside the window ruined? Why don’t you have any memories?
You must be bewildered, faced with all these unknowns, but I want you to be at ease. I will endeavor to explain a bit.
If you are expecting this letter to unravel the great tangle of mysteries you face, you will be disappointed. But at least you can avoid ending your life early with a bad decision. In other words, if you don’t wish to die, read on.
By the way, is it currently daytime there, or is it evening?
I’ll write with the assumption that it’s night. If it happens to be daytime, well, you can just tuck away into a corner of your mind the knowledge that what I am about to tell you will be important later.
I want you to look out the window. You will see a monster on a rampage, I’m sure. That monster is the devil that destroyed this land and the source of your amnesia. It has no name. If we were to borrow from the name of this place and give it a provisional name, we could call it the Javalier.
It rises at sunset and destroys everything it can until sunrise. If you leave the castle to find food, I recommend going during the day. You are safe inside there, as it is the only place the Javalier will not enter.
The goal of the Javalier is to kill everyone in this land. Every night it comes here and goes on a rampage, searching for the last remaining person.
That person, of course, is you.
It hunts for the last queen of an empty country. I’m begging you, please do not leave this place. If you do, the Javalier will follow you wherever you go. This is my one request to you.
I want you to kill the Javalier using your magical powers. You are trapped here until you do, so I don’t think you have much choice in the matter. As a witch, you have your magic, so you should be able to take down the Javalier easily. Please kill that monster for our sakes.
For your own, so that you may live.
And for everyone who died in sorrow.
Night fell.
The letter was right; the Javalier was indeed a monster. Its body was huge, about the same height as the decaying buildings, and it was covered in scales as black as midnight.
It had been named the Javalier, but it looked exactly like a dragon if you removed the wings. I can’t say for sure, but maybe that resemblance was why it had the terrifying power to breathe fire. It crushed buildings with its big, brawny arms and razed houses to the ground, searching for the last remaining person: Mirarose. It was in an absolute fit of rage.
“Wait, Mirarose, you’re a witch?”
“Wait, Elaina, you’re a witch?”
“Come on, you can tell I’m a witch by looking at me.” I was so obviously dressed in a witchy fashion. Can’t you see the brooch?
“Just joking.” Mirarose let out a light chuckle as we watched the monster raging outside.
I followed her gaze. “The person who wrote that letter made a really unreasonable demand, don’t you think?”
“They sure did. To fight and win against a monster like that…it’s a fool’s errand.”
“…Come to think of it”—there was something bothering me—“why did they say that only the palace is safe?”
“I have no idea.”
Oh yeah, that’s right.
“Isn’t that letter a little odd? All it really told you was that a monster comes here at night and that you have to kill it, right?”
Although all the little details of Mirarose’s current situation were recorded in the letter, the most crucial information was missing.
Why did the Javalier appear, and why was it tearing the place apart? Why was this girl the only person left alive? What was the relationship between the Javalier and her amnesia?
Mysteries, mysteries, and more mysteries. The letter was cleverly cut short, as if to intentionally avoid telling Mirarose the whole story.
Why on earth would someone do that?
“There is a lot I don’t know, but I am Mirarose, the queen—and my country was destroyed by a monster. If those are the facts, then I have an obligation to defeat it… Don’t you think?”
“Have you fought that thing?” I pointed to the monster outside the window, and she shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“You would never, ever fight a thing like that if you could avoid it, huh?”
“Totally.”
“How many days has it been since you first saw the monster, Mirarose?”
“Only seven. Not that much time has passed since I woke up. The place was already destroyed then.”
She looked up at the sky. A round moon was glowing pale in the jet-black sky, which shimmered with starlight. I wonder how she’s feeling right now.
I didn’t know. Nor could I know.
“……”
After a brief silence, Mirarose opened her mouth to speak. “Tomorrow night, I’m going to fight that monster.”
“Do you have any hope of winning?”
I didn’t know whether I would be capable of challenging the Javalier and emerging victorious, myself. It was probably so strong that you could kill it twice and it would still come back to win the fight in the end.
“Of course I do. In the week since I awoke, I’ve been recalling how to use my magic bit by bit. I think I must have had considerable mastery of it before I lost my memory.” She put her hand on her hip.
“Well, do your best. I’ll be cheering you on…from a safe distance.”
“Oh, you won’t help me?”
“What good would that do me?”
“…At least you’re honest. I can’t really fault you for that.”
“Well, thanks for that.”
After that, we allowed ourselves to indulge in a friendly chat while watching th
e massive Javalier continue its rampage. It was a little ridiculous.
For a place to sleep, Mirarose allowed me to use one of the former servants’ beds. I was grateful. It was soft and fluffy.
Early the following morning, I awoke to a tremendous noise. Enemy attack! Enemy attack! my mind shrieked. My heart pounded as if I had just finished running at a full sprint. I jumped up with an ominous feeling in my gut and headed for the first floor, where the noise had originated, gripping my wand.
“Oh, good morning.” As I stormed around the first floor with my hackles up, Mirarose greeted me with a cheerful smile. She wore a different dress today, but it was just as tattered as the one yesterday.
Does she only have tattered dresses? Poor thing.
Wait, that’s beside the point right now.
“What was that sound just now? An enemy attack?”
“Enemy…?” She tilted her head in confusion. “I was just cooking. Was I really that loud?”
“…? C-cooking?”
I don’t suppose there’s any chance that what you call cooking is as violent an affair as I’m imagining?
“Yes, it’ll be done soon.” She nodded and turned to walk away. I followed behind her, and we came to the kitchen.
“Wait in the dining room next door. I’ll bring the food in.”
“…Um, can I help you?”
“It’s fine.”
“…Um, thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“……”
I withdrew, tail between my legs—not that I really had a choice. And so I headed for the dining room and had a seat in one of the chairs at the table. Then it occurred to me. That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have left.
An incredible din was coming from the kitchen next door, like some kind of high-speed construction. Cracking. Slurping. Chewing. Grinding. Crunching. I’m begging you, spare my daughter’s life— Gyaaah! Scrubbing. Slapping.
Something like that.
Those were clearly not the sounds of cooking.
To make matters worse, I had heard someone scream. Thanks to Mirarose’s fierce cooking (or whatever it was she was actually doing), I had completely lost my appetite.
She brought the food out of the kitchen with a look of satisfaction. I don’t have to tell you that I was white as sheet myself.
“Oh my, are you all right? You don’t look so well.”
“…What on earth were you doing in there?”
“I told you, cooking. Here you go.” She placed a plate in front of me. Resting on top of the white plate were two slices of toasted bread. One of the pieces of golden-brown toast was spread with thick red jam. The other piece had a fried egg on top of it.
…Cooking? What on earth were those sounds…?
“Let’s eat.”
Seated across from me, she pressed both hands together, then crunched into her jam toast.
“…Thanks for the food.” I pressed my hands together, too, imitating her.
The more I thought about it, the more I was starting to wonder if I was just losing my mind, so I decided not to sweat the details. Worrying about it was probably a waste of time.
Unlike Mirarose, I started with the fried-egg toast. The flavors of the faintly sweet, delicate wheat and the perfectly fried egg spread through my mouth. It was a common, unsophisticated meal, and that meant it had been a long time since I had eaten anything like this. I smiled despite myself.
To put it simply, it was absolutely delicious.
“I thought we might discuss tonight, while we have the time,” Mirarose said.
“Tonight?”
“Yes. I want you to help me with the preparations for my plan.”
After nibbling my toast all around the egg yolk, I answered, “You gave me a place to sleep and fed me breakfast; you don’t need to ask me to help you.”
“Oh, then you’ll take down the Javalier?”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Why do you have to fight it in the first place? I don’t see a problem with just leaving it alone.
Mirarose’s expression was gentle, probably because she had already predicted that I would be firm in my refusal. “It was just a joke, so you can set your mind at ease. I must deal with the affairs of my own nation. I’m certain that is what the letter writer would have wished for as well.”
“……”
I’m not so sure.
I was silent. Not because I was trying desperately to chew without letting the egg yolk spill out of my mouth. No, really.
“I’m not surprised you feel the way you do, Elaina. It’s obvious the letter is not entirely truthful. It would be foolish to believe everything it has to say when it leaves out all the important details.”
I was shocked. It was as if she had read my mind.
My words stuck in my throat. Ignoring me, she continued, “However, without any of that information, all I can really do now is fight. Even so…somehow I just can’t convince myself that the letter is lying. The writer really hated the Javalier and wanted it dead, and that’s why they wrote me that letter. I can just tell.”
I pounded on my chest in distress, and Mirarose quietly passed me a cup with water in it. Ah, how kind.
“…Phew! Thank you.” After I took a breath, I said, “No matter what you decide, I’m just a humble traveler, so this isn’t really any of my business. However, if you’ll allow me to say one thing, if I were in your shoes, I would completely ignore everything that letter has to say.”
“Why?” Mirarose smiled. It was not a sneer or an attempt to disguise some other unpleasant emotion; she was simply enjoying our conversation.
What an incredible person. Really.
“Because it’s suspicious. That’s reason enough. You’ve lost your memory, you don’t know right from left, and yet you’re swallowing everything in the letter whole. Of course, it’s easy for me to say that. I’m not in your position.”
“Well, what would you do if you were me, Elaina?”
“Run. Run away at full tilt and seek asylum in another country,” I asserted.
“But the letter said that if I left, the Javalier would come after me.”
“That makes it even more suspicious. All it does is tear apart the town; it doesn’t have a shred of intelligence. Could it really track you down? Plus, it doesn’t make any sense that it can’t come into the castle, and the author didn’t even sign their name… It’s a truly puzzling letter.”
“So you don’t believe it.”
“I don’t. Mirarose, have you made up your mind to fight that monster all the same?”
“Of course.” She nodded.
In that case, I knew what I had to do.
I took a bite of my jam-covered toast. The odd-tasting jam stuck to the inside of my mouth.
The preparations proceeded without delay. However, I did them all myself.
“……”
…I’m exhausted.
Mirarose was elegantly sipping tea and watching me work. “How is it?” she asked in a carefree tone. “Does it seem like you’ll finish?”
I turned around, still waving my wand around like mad, and said, “…H-how long do I have to do this until it’s finished anyway?”
Peering down into the hole, she answered cheerfully, “Let’s see. It looks like you’re about halfway through the digging.”
“…I’m gonna die.” I’m sure it’s just my imagination, but there seems to be an imbalance between the amount of manual labor I’m doing and what I’m getting in return.
If you’re wondering what she was making me do, I was digging a hole. “I want you to go to the broadest street in town and use magic to dig a hole large enough for the Javalier to completely fit inside.” That was her “preparations.”
According to her, the Javalier had no wings, so if it fell into a pit, it should take some time for it to climb back to ground level.
“If we cast magic spells at it nonstop while it’s down there, we should be able to bur
y the Javalier, right?”
That was her plan.
At first glance, one might think this was a reckless plan, but right now, this primitive pitfall trap was our best bet against the mysterious monster. Just one attack should be enough to blast the Javalier apart, so if Mirarose could simply block any sort of counterattack, we could expect the plan to be quite effective.
If the preparations didn’t kill me first.
“H-hup…urgggh…”
We had gathered up every single scoop and shovel, and even bucket, in the area, and I was doing my best to operate them all at once using magic. I think I deserved a pat on the back for that. I wanted to be praised for my efforts and hard labor.
Well, I was the Ashen Witch, and I had earned my title with real ability. Of course, I could have done this more efficiently—excavating directly into the ground, for example. However, that would have exhausted an extraordinary amount of magical power. I weighed the alternatives of my own physical labor versus exhausting my magic and chose plain hard work.
And this was the result.
“…Guhaaa…”
And yes, I did regret it.
This is so hard I might actually die.
Eventually, Mirarose started helping, and we made good progress. Even so, it took a good while, and the pit was completed around nightfall. The two of us stood there happily in front of our beautiful hole. After laboring together, I felt a somewhat strange friendship blooming between us. Maybe it was my imagination.
“…It won’t be long,” Mirarose said. She looked somewhat stiff from nervousness.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m f-f-f-fine. Yes, I’m all right.”
Somehow, I’m not convinced. “You’re shaking a lot, though.”
“I’m t-t-t-trembling with excitement. C-can’t you tell?”
“……”
Are you really going to be able to fight like this?
I racked my brain thinking about how to calm her nerves and hit upon the brilliant idea of changing the subject. I’m a genius.
“Come to think of it, I forgot to ask you something.”
“Oh? What could that be?”
“Why do you wear tattered dresses, Mirarose? Do you not have any nice clothing?” I said.
Wandering Witch: The Journey of Elaina, Vol. 1 Page 16
