A series of short stories published in the Tales of Berseria Official World Guidance book. Original story by Masaki Hiramatsu.
Chapter 1 — An Afternoon in Titania
In the farthest reaches of Westgand, far out to sea, Velvet Crowe, the therion who would become known as the Lord of Calamity, and her accomplices had established the grim prison island of Titania as their base of operations. The group had cleared out the venomized daemons who had taken over the base. But still—
The peaceful afternoon was shattered by a girl’s scream. The pirate ship Van Eltia was docked at the island’s port, and on its deck, a girl with green hair was surrounded by a menacing gang of ugly thugs.
“You set the bird after the elephant tuna, didn’t you? You see this hole in the deck where it fell from the sky?”
Benwick, the pirate, looked like steam was about to shoot out his ears.
“An entire bottle of good red grape spirits, gone! Kids shouldn’t be drinking that!”
Dyle, the lizard daemon, was waving the empty bottle in the air.
“If I’ve told you once… when you use a knife, wash it, douse it in hot water, and wipe it down with a cloth or it’ll rust!”
The voice of Kurogane, the headless armor daemon, echoed hollowly from his body.
“Why do you keep doing this to us, Kamoana?!”
They were all blaming the therion Kamoana for their problems, but —
“It’s not my fault! I’m just trying to do something!”
“Trying to what? How was drinking all my spirits going to help?”
“I didn’t drink it!”
“Then where’d it go, huh?”
“Forget your drinks, what about the the deck? You know, of our ship?”
“Forget my drinks? You can’t just buy Irianne red grape spirits at any old market, you know!”
“Whoa, what?”
“How could she do this?”
As their attentions all turned to the missing spirits, Kamoana shouted to the sky. “Help me, Grawky!”
Instantly, the hawk wheeling above the boat transformed into the Griffon therion and dove. Kamoana leapt from the prow and landed on its back, and the two soared back into the sky.
“KAMOANAAAA!”
As the three men raged in vain into the sky, the bird’s master, Prince Percival, looked on with a soft smile.
“‘scuse me, Your Highness, but would you mind calling down your griffon or hawk or whatever it is?”
“He’s not mine,” said the Prince. “He carries Kamoana as he will and returns to me as he will, for he is free.” His soft voice turned to iron when he said the last word. Dyle glared.
“Come down from there, young lady.”
The therion Medissa stepped onto the deck, calling to Kamoana.
“Medissa! I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Would you say that to your mother’s face?”
“Totally! I was just working on something!”
“Then come down and explain to everyone what you wanted. Pretend you’re telling your mother.”
“…okay.”
And as if in answer, the griffon descended and landed gently on the deck, dropping Kamoana at Medissa’s feet.
Medissa looked down at her and nodded. Kamoana turned around and addressed the men. “I was just… trying to cook you something.”
Velvet’s team and the pirates had always treated Kamoana kindly. She knew they were always tired when the Van Eltia returned from its voyages. And one day, she had heard Velvet and Eleanor talking about cooking.
“So you’re saying the elephant tuna…”
“And my secret stash of Irianne…”
“And the knife you up and stole away with…”
“Yeah. I just wanted to help.”
Who couldn’t be touched by that?
“And we appreciate it, really. But you know, Aifread’s crew depends on the Van Eltia. We can’t have it full of holes.”
“He’s right, Kamoana. And you know, I’d feel better myself if I had those spirits back.”
“I’m not forbidding you from using my knives. But remember, no good cook neglects her instruments.”
Medissa, who’d been listening quietly the whole time, finally spoke up. “Now how do you feel, Kamoana?”
“I was trying to help, but I know I was wrong for making everyone feel bad. I’m sorry.”
Moana bowed slightly, and when her head came up, she saw that the men were smiling at her.
“You’re a little rascal, you know that?”
Dyle’s shoulders were slumped. Benwick grinned. “She really Kamoanaed this up, huh?”
Kamoana leapt at Benwick, punching him with all her meager might. “Stop that! My mom said my name has an important meaning!”
“Heh, sorry. What does it mean, then?”
“I… I don’t know!”
The pirates fell over. The boat rocked.
“You can’t forget that, kiddo. Won’t your mom be sad?”
Tears started to well up in Kamoana’s eyes.
“You… you think Mom isn’t coming back because I forgot what my name means?”
Dyle kicked Benwick in the shin. “Now look what you’ve done, idiot.”
“Kamoana… if forgetting would make your mother sad, what do you think would make her happy?”
The men looked at each other, confused. Medissa looked evenly into Kamoana’s eyes.
“Do you think she would be happy if you remembered?”
Medissa sent Kamoana to Grimoirh’s room. Books were in piles all over the room, with Grimoirh and Laphicet at the center, looking for clues to decipher the ancient texts on Innominat, while Eizen and Rokurou poked around the outsides. All of them stopped what they were doing and looked up when Kamoana entered.
“…well, you’re the daughter of a priestess, so we should look in the old language and traditions of Haria. Medissa has the right idea.”
Ms. Grim, the scholar of the ancient tongue, pulled a blue book from a huge pile and passed it to her apprentice. Kamoana leaned over to see, so Laphicet showed her the cover.
“Whoa! It’s the emblem of Amenoch!”
“That’s right. This is the Book of Rain, an text of old legends from the southern archipelago. There might be a clue about your name in here. Do you want to read it with me?”
“Okay!”
Moana couldn’t read the ancient tongue. She started to yawn when Laphicet pointed to a passage. “Hey, this might be it!”
He read, “In ancient Haria, ‘Kamoana’ was what they called the great blue sea blessed by the Empyrean Amenoch.”
“Kamoana!”
“Yeah. The ancient Harians used the word ‘kamoana’ to mean ‘the vast blue ocean.”
“That’s right, the ocean! Mom told me she used to hold me when she walked in the sands and prayed for me to become big and strong like the ocean! That’s why she called me Kamoana… she said…”
The daemon swordsman nodded. “Yeah, your old lady put her wishes for you into your name. Good thing you remembered it, huh, Kamoana?”
“Yeah! The big blue sea! I’m gonna be big and strong!”
The water sparkled outside the window.
“So what’s Rokurou?”
“It means the sixth son born to the family. Simple, right?”
“Way too simple! Your parents must have been slackers, Rokurou!”
“Why you!” Rokurou grabbed Kamoana and she giggled.
“By the way.” Rokurou turned to Eizen. “I hear malakhim have truenames, right? What’s that about?”
“A truename is a name that expresses a malak’s true nature. Once we know who we are, the name just comes to us and represents our identity.”
The part about “expressing your true nature” got Laphicet’s attention. “How do you know when you know who you are?”
“One day,” began Eizen, “when my sister was little, she got in a mood and wouldn’t stop crying, no matter what.
Malakhim aren’t like humans. Baby malakhim don’t get hungry and rarely get sick. And they don’t usually cry just because they feel like it. Eizen didn’t know what to do. He tried lifting her up like he’d seen humans do, playing peek-a-boo, shaking a rattle, even singing to her.
Eizen kept all that to himself.
“Finally, I was ready to give up. I was just about to start crying myself. And then, our door just swung open. A spring wind was blowing in, a warm and gentle wind.”
It was like it was calling him. He took her and walked and walked, not knowing where or how far, until finally, they emerged from a dark forest into a shimmering clearing.
“She stopped crying and smiled the sweetest, most innocent smile, and just like that, all at once, the entire field was covered in bright red flowers.”
Kamoana was smiling too. “Wow!”
Eizen nodded. “The flowers vanished soon after, but I still remember how strong and vivid their color looked, and I thought that when she grew up, she needed to wear one. And then I heard her voice in my mind. ‘I want to grow up fast.’ I thought, what a precocious little squirt. But that’s just what she was.
Hephsin Yulind — “Edna, the early bloomer.” But that name was only for Eizen to know.
“Good story,” interrupted Grimoirh, drily. “But that means you didn’t know your own true name, even though you’re much older than her, right?”
“I’m a late bloomer. I didn’t know my own true name until pretty recently.” Eizen tried to change the subject.
“What does ‘Eizen’ mean?” Kamoana’s eyes shone up at him.
Ufemew Wexub — “Eizen, the explorer.”
“Not telling.” Eizen didn’t usually avoid a topic like that.
“Wait,” said Rokurou, suddenly remembering. “Didn’t Magilou say something like ‘the true name I bestow on thee’ when she made a pact?”
“Forming a pact as a vessel is a bond between two souls. The Exorcist, by bonding with the malak, learns the malak’s true nature and translates it into a name. And the malakhim who are tethered without will don’t actually have true names because there’s nothing to feel, so the Exorcists just go through the motions.”
“Really? That how it was for you, Laphicet?”
“Well… I don’t really remember how it was with Lady Theresa, but when Eleanor made her pact, I felt really warm and nice. When she said my true name, I felt like I had always known it somehow.”
“So you did connect with her. Almost like marriage vows, you might say.”
“M-m-m-marriage? What are you talking about, Rokurou? I don’t think of Eleanor that way at all!” The young malak’s face was crimson.
“Hey, relax. It’s just an analogy. Right, Eizen?”
“Some analogies just don’t work! Right, Eizen?”
Eizen sighed and shook his head.
Kamoana tugged on his hand. “Hey, do I get a true name?”
“No. Humans don’t have true names.”
“Hey, that’s not fair! Malakhim are so lucky.”
“Your name came into your mother’s mind the same way. ‘Kamoana’ is already your true name.”
Moana frowned and fell silent for a while. Eizen looked at her kindly, as if she was his own sister, and finally spoke.
“Don’t think too hard about it. As long as you remember your name ‘Kamoana,’ your mom is always with you.”
“I’ll never forget what ‘Kamoana’ means! It’s the name Mom gave me, so it’s precious to me!”
It’s precious, thought Laphicet. Because your name is the first step to feeling like you’re yourself and alive.
“I’m the same. When Velvet named me ‘Laphicet’… when I went from ‘Tethered Malak Number 2’ to ‘Laphicet’… that’s when I started thinking for myself. That’s when I started living as myself.”
Chapter 2 — Tethered Malakhim
Three years earlier, the land was just beginning to adapt to the Advent and the appearance of malakhim in human civilization.
The great door of the villa in Lohgres that served as Abbey headquarters slammed open.
“Here I am, Artorius.”
With a bestial fury, Legate Shigure Rangetsu swung his blade, as long as he was tall, at the other man. Artorius drew his sword with his left hand and calmly parried the massive sword. Both weapons sparked as the two men locked eyes, and a tremor shook the stained glass windows of the chapel.
“So you are, Shigure.”
Both men lowered and sheathed their swords together as if nothing had happened.
“Your right arm still doesn’t work, huh?”
“As you see.”
Shigure narrowed his eyes and glared past the cape that hung over Artorius’ right hand, at an old exorcist and a masked malak.
“Melchior and Seres. What’s taking you two so long? At this rate, his arm’ll heal itself before that Armatus thing is anywhere close to done.”
The swordsman wanted a bout with Artorius more than anything, but he’d been waiting years since being told that the completed Armatus arte would enable Artorius to use his right arm again. He’d pledged to serve the Abbey to help that succeed in any way he could, to hurry along the day when he would have the best fight of his life.
And yet.
“We have the location of Siegfried. It is the last piece we need.” There was the subtlest hint of anxiety in Melchior’s voice.
“The Brynhilde within me is nearly ripe as well.” Seres voice, on the other hand, betrayed no emotion at all.
“Well then hurry it up already,” Shigure grumbled. Suddenly, he noticed the malak boy behind Series. “Hey, what’s the shrimp for?”
“I think we know him already.” A large white cat emerged from Shigure’s body, landing before the boy. “Yes, he’s Lord Artorius’ child, the one formed at the same time as Seres.”
“Huh. I don’t remember that, but I’ll take your word for it. What’s your name, kiddo?”
The boy didn’t — couldn’t — answer. Artorius spoke instead.
“He has no name.”
“Why?”
“Because true names are only given with a pact.”
So Artorius hadn’t formed a pact with his own son.
“Oh man, so even you wouldn’t use both your wife and your kid to save the world.” Shigure laughed. He didn’t intend to hurt, but he never made any effort at tact. Still, Artorius’ face was stone.
“You could at least give your kid a name, though. Doesn’t have to be a true name, but you have to call him something, one way or another. Hell, Morgrim here took to a true name that means ‘tiger eyebrows’ or somethin’ weird like that. Eventually.”
Morgrim’s tail drooped. “Don’t tease. If you hadn’t said it was a ‘pretty cool name,’ I’d still be sensitive about being called Lyudwin Miqa Sep. I’m quite fond of my eyebrows now, actually.”
“It’s a weirdly cool name. Tigers are the king of beasts, you know.”
“That’s lions.”
“You sure? Tigers are definitely stronger than lions.”
“Enough. We’ve annoyed Lord Artorius.”
Shigure turned to look.
“The exorcist who binds the malak may name it,” Artorius said tonelessly.
“You okay with that, Seres?”
“It is Lord Artorius’ judgment.”
A father and mother who won’t name their child. Oh well. For men of the Rangetsu clan, the name you’re given is meaningless. What matters is the name you decide to take for yourself. Shigure forgot the matter.
Morgrim spoke again. “But I feel a very strong latent potential in this boy. Wouldn’t it make more sense to unbind his will and form a pact?”
“Lord Artorius is aware of the situation, but believes that the risks if we were unable to control it are too great.”
“We will assign him to an exorcist until the Armatus is completed,” said Melchior.
“So you’re putting him up for adoption.”
Seres nodded. “That is what reason dictates.”
“Lord Shigure… what they mean is, the boy is Arthur’s son. He has nothing to do with Lord Artorius.”
Shigure took her meaning and cracked a grin. “You know, Seres, you’ve got a good bad girl face under that mask. Maybe I should say a good bad mom face, huh?”
Shigure could sense Seres’ desperation, so he couldn’t resist a barb at the man who had been Arthur, but it didn’t seem to affect Artorius Collbrande. In that sense, he and the young malak seemed very much alike.
A year after Seres’ tiny act of rebellion, Melchior was addressing a new exorcist recruit at the villa.
“Why have you not completed your contracts with the malakhim you were assigned, Theresa Linares?” His anger was palpable.
“Please, just tell me… why those children?”
Theresa had left two malak “children” in her quarters, one with flat silver hair and one with gold, with one lock that stuck up like an antenna. Silver stood silently in a corner and Gold quietly kept his nose in a book he’d picked up from somewhere. They were like little dolls. She couldn’t see the point in binding them to pacts. Theresa swallowed a frustrated sigh.
“Malakhim come in many shapes and sizes, be they adult, child, or animal, and many attributes as well. I believe I informed you about yours. Do you think I am asking you to play nanny?”
“I understand, but they have very little capability in direct combat. I fear such vulnerabilities will be fatal were I to have to engage a daemon or dragon.”
“And have I sent you to engage a daemon or dragon? The Abbey is no place for glory-hounds.”
“…I’m aware. I just think that if the worst were to come to pass…”
Like my Oscar in peril.
“I should be capable of defense and threat response. As a Zero.”
As the elder sister.
“Defense of who?”
“I…”
“If you’re a Zero, don’t disappoint me by prioritizing the individual over the whole.” Melchior turned back to the ancient tome before him.
“I… apologize.”
Theresa left. She was read like a book, her worst shame exposed.
When she reached her quarters, Gold was missing.
“It’s not like it just walked away on its own! Where could it have gone?”
Silver had nothing to tell her other than “I don’t know, Lady Theresa,” and realizing she was asking questions of her tool only deepened her frustration. She ran out of the room.
The Abbey headquarters was second only to the Imperial Palace in size, and not a place one wanted to get into hide-and-seek. Even searching the inside quickly took nearly an hour, and the courtyard also proved in vain.
For a malak to be wounded under normal circumstances was unheard of, let alone killed. Still, losing one would lose her not only Lord Melchior’s trust, but maybe even her standing as an exorcist. She’d bring disgrace to Oscar, her only family. He may not mind what she did, or even what others thought — but he’d worry about her, and that would be even worse, for he’d certainly suffer more than she would.
I won’t let him suffer. Especially not by my own actions.
Once, when they were children, Oscar had gone missing during a game of hide-and-seek. At the time — he was just four — his favorite hiding spot had been a storage room full of tools. So it was usually easy to find him, but today, he wouldn’t turn up no matter how long she looked.
Finally, as she was crying, thinking he’d been seriously hurt, she heard a cheerful “Sister!” coming up from below, and one of the floorboards moved aside.
A trap door!
She had just curled up at that spot, and happened to find herself looking down into her brother’s beaming, blackened face.
“Your malak was holding tight onto a book.”
She’d gone back to check the library. It was a well-stocked library with a storage room built underneath it. Before, she’d only checked if there was light there, but she was looking for a malak, not an ordinary human. There was no guarantee it needed light to read. This time, she went down into the basement with a light, and sure enough, there was Gold.
“Lady Theresa.”
He was sitting on the floor with a thick encyclopedia of ancient history open in front of him and several random objects scattered around.
“What are you doing?”
“There are many subjects in this book.”
“Excuse me…?”
“Several words and pictures are written in it.”
“That’s right, the names of things. Things have names.”
“Names. That’s right. Several names were written.” He indicated a wood carving of a half-man, half-beast figure. “This is the Sacred Beast of Callegia.”
He continued. “This cat is named Tenebrae. This sword is Chaltier.” Gold was speaking quickly now. He was supposed to have no will of his own, yet here he was, out of the room he was meant to be in, looking up the names of things in a book. She’d never heard of a malak like this before. All she could think to do was stare at Gold in the flickering candlelight. “And this one is made of silver. His name is Gilland, the Knight From Afar.”
Theresa recognized the figure of the knight. Gilland.
“This one is made of gold. It’s very heavy.”
“You mean the Unicorn of Umacy.”
“Yes, Lady Theresa.”
After he had emerged from the space beneath the storage covered in soot, Oscar was clutching toys of the knight and the unicorn in his hands. The two figures suddenly looked like the hair of the two child malakhim.
“Maybe if I think of them as toys for Oscar…”
The Silver Knight and the Golden Unicorn. Not bad as true names, at that.
Gold brought the book and the objects back to the room with him, so Theresa gave him a bag made of Maurits wool. “Make sure you keep them where they belong.”
“Yes, Lady Theresa,” Gold replied with blank eyes.
He doesn’t look happy at all. Oscar looked so happy when I gave him a bag…
“What am I thinking?” she said aloud. Silver turned from the wall towards her and Gold looked up, both expressionless.
Sweat began to form on her forehead. She had been let down by Gold’s lack of response. She had grown attached to tools that would never feel for her. The silver knight and golden unicorn were shameful proof.
“Stand in front of me,” Theresa commanded her malakhim.
“Thou wert given to me in accordance with reason. Now bind thyselves to me through this pact, and become instruments of my divine will, to bring about a world of order and peace.”
First Silver.
“Receive the true name I now bestow upon thee: Vordew Ive.”
Now Gold.
“Receive the true name I now bestow upon thee: Vordew Sni.”
“Yes, Lady Theresa,” replied, in unison, the malakhim who now bore the meaningless names of Number One and Number Two.
The sound of knocking came through the door, and Oscar walked in.
“What’s the matter, Oscar?”
“Sister, I heard you had gone to see Melchior about your malakhim, and I was worried for you.”
She had worried her brother. Made him come to see her. And behind him, the malakhim. She felt ashamed to ever have compared them.
“It’s all right. I’ve formed the pacts.”
“What did you name them?”
“The silver one is Number One, and the gold is Two.”
“Simple and perfectly efficient. As much as I expected of you.”
That’s right.
There’s nothing to a name. She was a Linares, not a Dragonia, but she was still Oscar’s sister. Whatever names she gave to her tools, that’s all they were. Tools to use to propel Oscar in any way possible on his way to the top of the Abbey.
She had not been ordered to play nanny.
Chapter 3: Pretty Hat
20 years ago, the sorceress who travels the eleven seas and scoffs at the might of dragons was just a little witch. Back then, Magilou was still known as Magillanica.
Magillanica could see malakhim and daemons all her life. When other babies her age were taking their first steps, she was climbing up to the roof to read books that gave even grown-ups trouble.
She was a brilliant and sensitive child. Her parents were proud, but superstitious. They feared she was a witch, and they were shunned by others in turn. So one night, they abandoned her.
Magillanica, now without a home, was taken in by a greedy entertainer who discovered she could converse with invisible “guardians” and brought her to a freak show. The owner made some calculations on an abacus and then stroked his moustache —
“Come one, come all, and see a rare wonder of the world! She commands the winds and sees into your heart! Feast your eyes on the little witch Magillanica!”
Magillanica was the star exhibit and had all the attention she could ever want. But it wasn’t a home.
All day long, visitors would look at her with a mix of curiosity and fear, and at the end of it, all she had to rest in was the floor of a dirty corner. Every night, she swallowed her scrap of bread with a sip of milk, and drifted off to the same dream.
“Daddy, I want this doll!”
“Well, it’s yours, then!”
“What happened to your last one? Your father spoils you so.”
What she felt from the parents of the children in the audience.
“That witch freaked me out… let’s come again!”
“Yeah! That was awesome! I’ll come with you!”
What she felt from the friends who promised to come see her together.
“They don’t know how lucky they are… I want a doll… I want… a friend…” she wished, without hope, on the full moon looking down through her window.
As she drifted to sleep, Magillanica was dimly aware of a raspy voice. “Your tears are still wet. You must be lonely like me.” The normin Beinfu was a small creature with a top hat pulled over its face, tiny batlike wings, and a pointed tail. His welling tears looked strange in his round eyes. “I’m lonely too, you know.”
He told his story, sobbing, through the entire night. In short, it went like this:
Bienfu was a catch among Normin, and for his whole life he was never without a pretty girl or several on his arm. He’d always say he could never belong to just one girl, but all the girls in the world. Then his travels happened to take him through the village of Stoneberry, and there he met her. She wasn’t that pretty, but something about her good cheer — not to mention the way her straw hat sat on her head — caught Bienfu’s attention.
So he did what he always did, and she offered him some of her homemade tea rice. As soon as he tasted it, Bienfu fell even further in love. He knew this was the one. The first one who had ever made something so delicious for him. The one he could spend the rest of his life with. First —
“Do you have any more of this?”
She looked at the empty bowl he was holding out, and smiled.
“‘round here, ‘how’d you like some tea rice’ means ‘git out.’”
“…so you didn’t want me to taste your cooking because you were interested…?”
“Didn’t ya hear me? I said git, ya dumb ol’ thing!”
“Thing?! Bieeeeeeeen!”
Bienfu opened eyeholes in his famous top hat and pulled it down over his face. When he opened his eyes again, the world he saw through his tears looked gray and drab.
“…anyway, I still love her. I know that she forced herself to turn me away because she knew that Bienfu couldn’t belong to any one girl. We… we understood each other…”
Still.
“I’m so lonely… who’d ever… who’d ever want to…”
As the sun rose, Bienfu finally wound down and started to fall asleep. Magillanica, meanwhile, was just waking up, and realizing that she was holding what felt like a strange stuffed animal.
“Looks like you were abandoned too, huh?”
The lonely girl thought that the moon must have granted her wishes and given her someone to be with. “What a pretty hat,” she muttered.
She snuggled the doll again and turned to go back to sleep. At the time, she didn’t know that the doll was crying tears of joy — and neither of them knew that a pact had been forged between them.
A long story later, Magillanica was free. What’s more, her condition had been identified as a powerful resonance, and she had become the pupil and heir of the Legate Exorcist Melchior.
Magillanica Lou Meyvin.
After a whole life without a home, Magilanica finally had a full name. A family.
Melchior put her and Bienfu through harsh training to become the next Shepherd’s shadow, but they never broke. Knowing that they finally had a place and a purpose kept the two going. Loneliness had been the greatest despair they’d ever faced, but it was finally over.
For Melchior’s goals, she’d do anything.
“Magillanica, an oath to stop your aging to increase your resonance is borderline taboo! It’s too dangerous!”
“Be silent, Bienfu! The zenith of human fitness occurs in the teens. What could be more reasonable than to preserve my body and amplify my spirit?”
“Don’t forget, you’re a girl as well as an Exorcist. You’ve been talking funny lately, too. You have to take care of your human needs — ”
“I will surpass the master. My individual wants matter not before the good of the whole — that’s more than reason enough to break the taboo! The place of a common spirit such as yourself is simply to grant me power. What say you?”
“Magillanica… understood.”
The cold hand of reason had made her first friend into a tool, but Bienfu soldiered on — the words “pretty hat” driving him forward.
Unfortunately, Magillanica would not be happy for long.
“This is the final trial. Go forth and sever your ties with your past. When you return, the Shepherd will have his shadow.”
At Melchior’s instruction, and for the first time in her life since she had left, Magillanica returned to the village that should have been her home.
After ten long years, her parents welcomed her with tears in their eyes, apologizing over and over. They asked about everything that had happened in the ten years that they had missed, and hearing of her suffering, they wept and swore to make her smile again. Her father gave her ten years’ worth of birthday presents he’d bought and kept, and her mother prepared a huge feast of all her specialties.
Then, at her very happiest, Magillanica found out the truth. That her parents had cruelly reported the little witch of the show, then been killed by daemons. That her hometown had been ravaged by a dragon. That everything, from the beginning, had been an illusion created by Melchior.
Any reason Magillanica had ever believed in was now washed away by her tears.
And Melchior abandoned her.
She had lost her master, her purpose, and her hope for the future. Her heart shattered instantly.
Bienfu took Magillanica, once again without a home, to the land of the Normin, on an island far to the south.
Grimoirh finished listening to Bienfu’s story and looked Magillanica, standing by the window, up and down. “You always were terrible at goodbyes — I should know — but the least you could do is act like you’re sorry.”
“It’s pointless,” Magillanica murmured, not to anyone in particular.
“No it’s not! Miss Grim, please, I’m begging you. Just get her to go back to Lord Melchior.”
“I can’t help her.”
“Just this once!”
“There’s nothing I can do anyway. A bad man would put on a fake smile and string her along until he couldn’t get any more use out of her, but Melchior… he’s pure, isn’t he, young lady?”
Backlit by the harsh southern sun, Magilanica’s silhouette wavered against the window.
“It’s pointless.”
Magillanica didn’t move from the window, and days passed.
“You must be tired from standing. Sit down.”
“It’s pointless.”
Her skin dried out.
“You’re starting to smell. Take a bath, please.”
“It’s pointless.”
Her eyes started to droop.
“Please, just eat something. Anything.”
“It’s poi — ”
“It’s pointless! I know! Lord Melchior’s pointless! The Shepherd’s shadow is pointless! But I don’t want you to die, Magillanica! So please… just please…”
I’m —
“…pointless…”
Magillanica finally collapsed not long after that. Her emaciated body barely made a sound as it hit the floor.
It was the first time Magillanica had slept in a bed in over a month. While Grimoirh cleaned her up, Bienfu tried to feed her, but she wouldn’t open her mouth.
That night was a full moon. Bienfu looked up at it while wiping tears out of his eyes. “Magikazam!”
Grimoirh came out. “You say that sometimes, don’t you? What does it mean?”
“It’s just a pointless charm to dispel a pointless worry,” replied Bienfu. “Magikazam! Now everything feels pointless. Look at me and see.”
“See how? There’s a hat over your face.”
“Most of what you say comes from the eyes. Look closer.”
“It doesn’t look pointless to me. If anything, I’d say you look more determined now.”
“That’s right. Overcoming makes you stronger. I feel full of courage!”
“Come to think of it, you were Normin Breyve, weren’t you?”
“That’s right! I’m off to the forest now!”
Magillanica got out of bed and went back to the window. “He’s late. He said he’d be back soon.”
Grimoirh shut her book. “Yes, the ingredients he wanted to cook with shouldn’t be that hard to find.”
Magilanica was silent.
“He said it was the anniversary of something or other, but at this rate, it’ll be tomorrow by the time he gets back.”
Magilanica was silent.
“I suppose you’d just say it’s pointless, though.”
Magilanica was silent as she opened the door and went outside.
“Bieeeeen! This is so, so bad!”
Bienfu’s voice rustled the trees in the warm grove. Before him loomed a Venom Lizard daemon. Behind him cowered a human in priestess garb.
“I’ll distract the daemon, miss! Run as far as you can!”
“P-praise be to you, o great Amenoch!”
“I’m not Amenoch…”
“Then by what should I call your holiness?”
“Oh, forget it! Just run! Here I go!”
Bienfu tackled the girl away, then turned and charged at the daemon. It roared and lunged back at him. He tried to pull away, but —
“Bieeen!”
Bienfu went flying and crashed noisily through the trees.
“M-Magikazam…”
Bienfu stood and glanced in the direction the priestess had run. She’d gained some distance, but not enough. He yelled at the daemon again, then bolted.
He ran and ran through the forest, the underbrush catching his tail, snagging his wings, and scratching across his back, until finally, he couldn’t hear the priestess anymore.
“Now I just have to hide…”
Suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear the daemon anymore, either. He turned around to look. The daemon had stopped, and it was now turning away.
“What are you looking at?”
There, standing in the full light of the moon, was a witch.
The daemon decided that a weakened little girl was easier prey and lurched at her with a roar.
“Watch out!” Bienfu launched himself at Magillanica with all the speed he could muster. He could get between them, if he could just —
“Bieeen!”
Bienfu tripped over a shrub, went flying, and skidded gracelessly to a halt just before Magillanica. The daemon’s advancing figure was the last thing he was aware of.
This foolish daemon is —
“Pointless.”
Magillanica’s —
“Pointless.”
Master —
“Pointless.”
But not Bienfu.
“Magikazam!”
The arte vaporized the daemon in a flash.
She found Bienfu’s hat on the ground, red mushrooms spilling out of it. Bienfu had brought her her favorite food when they’d first met, and red button mushrooms were key to making it correctly.
Magillanica picked the hat up and stared at it for a while.
“Still such a pretty hat…”
Bienfu stood up woozily. Magilanica put the hat on his head, then picked him up and held him tight.
That was the day Magillanica recovered. She started practicing malak artes, as well as entertainment and comedy.
“The emperor was so surprised, he let out a gasp. ‘Bark me up the wrong tree!’ he said.”
“No, no, no, Bienfu! It’s the cat emperor, so it should be… ‘meow that’s a shocker!’”
“I’m fee-line sorry…”
Grimoirh clapped boredly. “Well done, you two. You pass.”
Their training over, they prepared to go traveling once more.
“Here we go, Magillanica!”
“To whom do you speak, Bienfu?”
“Bien?”
“I answer to that name no more!”
“Then what do I call you?”
“I’m glad you asked! I am the great magician who laughs in the face of any monkey, be it capped with a pretty hat or no! That’s right — Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou! Magilou for short.”
“Magi… lou?”
“Come, Bienfu! And a hug for the road, if you please, my dear Miss Grim.” Magilou spread her arms, then stopped. “Ah, that was not your way, was it?”
Grimoirh sighed. “Fine. Just this once.” She hopped up into Magilou’s arms.
“Thank you, miss.”
“Goodbye, Magillanica… farewell, Magilou.”
“Fare thee well!”
And with a spring in her step and a click in her heel, Magilou went forth.
“Aren’t you coming with us, Miss Grim?”
“It’s not exactly my preference…”
“You’re going to leave me alone with Magilou?”
Grimoirh regarded Bienfu’s worried look. “Just… be nice to the girls outside of Magilou, all right?”
“Outside of her? Why?”
“Trust me. One more thing. When you absolutely don’t know what else to do, just say your true name.”
“What good will that do? Magilou tells everyone it means ‘thing.’”
“Exactly. She says she doesn’t care about anything, but she goes out of her way to hide this one thing. Why do you think that is?”
“Because…”
Because to know it is to know what isn’t pointless to a witch.
“Hee… thank you, Miss Grim! You helped a lot!”
Grimoirh gave Bienfu a push and looked on as he ran ahead to catch up to Magilou. “Of course I did. I’m Normin Theruhpist.”
So it was that Magilou and Bienfu joined Velvet and the crew of the Van Eltia on their voyages to find the therions.
“Ack! Miss Magilou!”
“Fear not. An apology is all I want.”
“Bieeen!”
Their double act was, if anything, getting more and more intense.
“Sometimes I think I should have just gritted my teeth and kept your contract,” sighed Eleanor.
“She’s not always like this,” said Bienfu.
“Really?”
“She doesn’t show it, but deep down, Magilou is just a girl, with a kind smile and pure tears…”
“Bienfu…” The witch had snuck up behind them without a sound.
“M-Miss Magilou!”
“I was the fool to relax your punishment. No good fate awaits the monkey who lets a witch’s secrets go on the wind. I will discipline you with the fury of a dragon.”
The witch’s eyes shone with a terrifying glow. Bienfu thought desperately. Suddenly, Grimoirh’s good advice came back to him. It was now or never!
“Fuschie Cass!”
Magilou’s face was a smile instantly. “My dear, sweet Bienfu. What would you like to eat today? Name anything you desire.”
“Really? Oh, thank you, miss!”
As the witch and the malak walked cheerily to the kitchen together, Eleanor scratched her head. “Well, there’s certainly… something deep between them.”
“Everyone has their own creed,” said Eizen. “By the way, what did you give him as a true name?”
“Izhum Hye Rih Ejuam…”
“Sounds about right.”
The pirates who could understand the ancient tongue all laughed.
Chapter 4: Promise
There lies a princess fair and dear,
who has slept for over a thousand years,
amidst a bramble of thorny spears.
Her streaming hair is emerald green.
Her rose quartz cheeks a blushing sheen.
As twin stars shine out eternal light,
she dreams through her unending night.
He thought of the story often.
Two glasses full of green spirits sat on the table. The cubes of ice floating in them caught the crimson light of the setting sun. This was the Forest of Thorns Spirits from Stoneberry, said to eternally bind the couple who drinks it together. The other glass was supposed to have been for Zaveid, the wind malak, to share with his love, Theodora.
One day five years earlier, a small hut stood on a remote hill. The sun was just passing its peak when a knock rang from the door. The malak Theodora, the house’s owner, opened it to find a pair of wolflike eyes meeting hers.
“Hey.” Zaveid’s black leather clothes were ragged and his face was covered with cuts.
“Zaveid!”
“I came back, Theodora.” Zaveid stepped in, grinning. He shrugged.
“Were you fighting again? You promised me you’d stop!”
“Heh, yeah… well, it looks like the world doesn’t want to let me keep my promise.”
“That’s not funny!” Theodora gasped suddenly. Three children, all around four or five, were behind him. Their eyes were dull.
Zaveid lowered his voice. “Their parents were… whacked by a Dullahan…” He told her about how he’d protected them from the daemon down below the mountain, taking grievous wounds in the process.
“What a world…”
Theodora sat Zaveid down and healed him with her artes, then beckoned the children in.
“What are your names?”
There was a red-haired boy and a black-haired boy, and a girl younger than both of them. Theodora had tried to talk to each of them, but they were silent. They had, after all, seen their parents killed before their eyes.
“They were like this all yesterday, too. They won’t even eat.” Zaveid sighed.
“Are you hungry? What’s your favorite food?” Theodora took their hands in hers. Children had naturally high resonance, so they should be able to see her as well as they could Zaveid. “Quiche? Pudding, maybe?”
As Theodora kept guessing cheerfully, Zaveid quietly took the girl’s hand. It was warm in the hut, but her hand was cold.
It would warm up in time.
“How about… I know, some peach pie?”
The girl’s stomach instantly let out a rumble, as if it was answering for her. She squeezed Zaveid’s hand just a tiny bit tighter.
Theodora brightened. “So there’s still some hope in there yet. Or at least, their bodies haven’t quite given up. I should start preparing… oh, but I can’t taste as well as I used to.”
Zaveid knew why her sense of taste had been getting duller. The thought darkened his face for an instant, but he caught himself and smiled.
“Let me do it.”
Zaveid went shopping in a human city. Malakhim don’t have to eat to live like humans do, but they can still taste, and they can tell what tastes good. It was late in the day, approaching dinnertime, with all the hustle and bustle that implied.
“Show me, wind… bring me the scent of something those kids would like…”
The faintest of breezes brushed across Zaveid’s nose.
“Perfect.”
At the end of the trail, Zaveid found a food stand staffed by a man and a woman. Probably husband and wife.
“Well, they sure don’t look happy for a couple of humans making such an enticing smell.”
“Welcome.”
“If you’ll please wait a bit, food will be out shortly.”
“Oh, you guys can see me? Well, that makes it easier.” The couple looked confused. “I just need a moment of your time.”
Zaveid called up a wind arte, and the entire stand, with the couple still in it, flew to the mountain.
“…I see.” After Theodora had explained the situation, the husband, Ben, had looked at the kids sadly while Theodora apologized frantically.
“Why did you have to bring back a whole shop?”
“Figured it’d be best for them to eat something fresh, right?”
“True,” murmured the wife, Saliph. “Warm food warms the soul.” Nodding, as if to encourage herself, she tightened her apron strings. “Ben.”
“Yeah. Let’s do it, Saliph. Let’s show these kids what good food is all about! Zaveid, Theodora, please get some chairs and sit those kids down in front of our cart!”
Before long, the smell of warm, flavorful oil and spices wafted around the cart.
“Food’s ready!”
“Eat up, kids!”
A feast of mapo curry, pasta margherita, and peach pie was arrayed before the children. Automatically, they reached out. Slowly, bite by bite, the light returned to their eyes.
“You like our special mapo curry, do you? We invented it with our partner in Lohgres.”
“It’s good, but.. it’s too spicy!” The black-haired boy gulped down an entire cup of water.
“Heh heh! You’re such a baby, Arwell! I can’t even feel it!”
“Shut up, Burd! I saw you cover it up with that peach pie!”
“You two are both being big babies!” said the girl Foo. “I’m eating the the curry and the pasta and saving the pie for dessert!”
The older humans and malakhim all laughed. Finally, the children finished. Ben and Saliph smiled down at them.
“Now there’s a family,” Zaveid muttered. Suddenly, Ben and Saliph’s faces grew sad.
“That’s right… almost like… a family…” Saliph’s face was wet with tears now. “I’m sorry… it’s just that… it’s been so long since we’ve had a meal like this…”
“See, our… our kid was… taken by the daemons… and if he’d lived, well…” Ben sniffled.
“So that’s why… you two looked so sad when I saw you…”
“It’s all the daemons’ fault!” Arwell slammed his fist down on his leg. Tears were welling in his eyes.
“Zaveid! I’m gonna get revenge on that daemon!”
“Me too!” Burd chimed in.
“Yeah!” said Foo. Both of them started crying.
“That’s not happening.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m gonna get him first.” Zaveid’s eyes were hard. “The creed I live by is, I give as good as I get.”
Zaveid got back from destroying the Dullahan that night to find the kids fast asleep.
“Thank you, Zaveid,” said Theodora.
“What for? I broke my promise. Again.”
“I’ll forgive you just this once. And Ben and Saliph said they’d come by every so often, so things are looking up.” Theodora’s voice was cheery, but she was getting paler.
“Theodora… are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t taste, you look sickly… it’s the Malevolence, isn’t it?”
Theodora had been taking care of orphaned children since long before she’d met Zaveid. The Malevolence that always issued from humans’ bodies had built up in her. Both she and Zaveid knew how that would end.
“You think maybe you should stop?”
“Would you stop fighting if I said I would?”
“Would you stop hanging around with humans if I did?”
“No. That’s my creed.”
Zaveid left to seek a cure for Theodora’s Malevolence. He’d check in on Theodora and the kids from time to time, but less and less often. Though he never stopped fighting. He never stopped breaking his promise, over and over.
A year passed.
It had been months since Zaveid had returned to Theodora’s hut. This time he was more badly wounded than he’d ever been.
“Did you fight with those humans who command malakhim to use artes — Exorcists, they call themselves?”
“Yeah. There’s a lot more new ones now for some reason. I couldn’t stop myself from giving them a piece of my mind… ow!”
“You never change, do you?”
“Hey, don’t be like that. I brought you something this time.” Zaveid pulled a green bottle marked “Forest of Thorns” out of his bag.
The morning the winds from the mountains stopped, Zaveid and Theodora shared a glass.
“Huh… this place really feels like home. There’s always a warm spring breeze to blow your cares away…”
“Of course there is.” Zaveid raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s the house of Quivdeukse Suijia. Theodora, the Spring Breeze.”
“Theodora…” It was the first time another malak had given their true name to Zaveid. He went bright red.
Theodora leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Promise me you’ll stop picking fights?”
“I promise.”
“How many times have you told me that?”
“This one counts. I know what I’ve done, but my true name is still — ”
Theodora raised her glass and clinked it against Zaveid’s.
The next morning, Theodora was gone.
She hadn’t come back from gathering breakfast ingredients. No trace of her was anywhere in the area. Zaveid left the kids with Ben and Saliph and went searching for her.
He thought she might have gone somewhere she couldn’t hurt humans if her Malevolence got too much and she turned into a dragon. But he turned out to be wrong.
It seemed that she’d been kidnapped by Tintagel, a cult that worshipped dragons as gods. They’d been thought to have disappeared after the Opening. An old lady in a pub in Lohgres had handed him a letter. In it was the location of Tintagel’s hiding place and a scarlet mark in the shape of a butterfly.
He tracked her to the edge of Eastgand.
“I’ve come for you, Theodora.”
The door to the Empyrean temple had been defiled with the seal of the cult. Zaveid kicked it down. A wave of hateful Malevolence gushed through the doorway and burned his skin. The cultists turned around; Theodora was lying on a great altar behind them.
“This cesspit’s where you creeps brought Theodora?” Zaveid began running.
Theodora opened her eyes weakly. “Zaveid…”
“Sorry, Theodora! Looks like I’m breaking my promise!”
The cultists ran to meet the enraged malak. Malevolence gushed from them, and all at once, they screamed and turned into daemons.
“You’re daemons now? That’s what you get for worshipping dragons! Come on, I’ll send you all where you belong!”
Zaveid crossed his arms, and the pendulums shot out of them and through the entire pack — wrapping them up, slicing them, smashing them. Their screams made the desecrated church quake.
This is one fight I can’t lose. Zaveid fought and fought, and Malevolence continued to flood the building. Until —
Zaveid screamed. The daemons were biting into his arms and legs. The Malevolence was slowing him down. “Go! Get out of here, Theodora!” He was shouting with all his might now.
“Zaveid!” It was the last thing Zaveid heard as his consciousness slipped away.
Silence.
Black wings of Malevolence sprouted from Theodora’s back.
“The great Dragon appears!” The cultists turned to her, rapt, and threw themselves on the ground.
The wings became a tornado of darkness.
Theodora screamed and tore apart the cultists, then their corpses, then the church itself, until only Zaveid and the altar were left.
“Theodora…”
She gasped with exhaustion as Zaveid embraced her.
“Zaveid, I… think I… got in a fight…”
Theodora’s voice was strained. She was already starting to turn into a dragon. The fight had pushed her beyond her limit.
“You idiot… you’re the one who’s always telling me not to…”
“I’m… sorry… now go…”
“What are you talking about? I’m not leaving you behind!”
“I don’t… want to do it again… feel what it feels like to… kill someone…”
The Malevolence began to spill out from her body.
“Don’t give up! I’ll find a way to save you!”
“Are you going to… keep that promise… for once…?”
There was the last bit of the spunky Theodora, holding on as her mind was overwhelmed by darkness.
Zaveid took her hand and looked her in the eyes.
“I swear. By the name of Fylk Zahdeya — Zaveid, the Oathkeeper.”
At the confession — the oath — she smiled like a spring breeze, and then there was only the white-horned dragon.
After that, Zaveid went on another journey — to save his love.
And then the black pirate set his sights on Theodora, and Zaveid stood against him.
“I will kill that white-horned dragon.”
Eating the heart of a white-horned dragon was supposed to be able to cure the Reaper’s Curse. And the pirate was living under that curse. Zaveid didn’t know if that was why he was determined to kill Theodora, and not knowing for sure just pissed him off more.
“Don’t call her a dragon, dammit!”
She’s kind like a spring breeze.
Like the true name she shared with me.
“She has a name. Theodora.”
I will keep my promise, and that’s all there is to it.
Chapter 5: The Blue Sky
Three years had passed since the Scarlet Night had lit up the skies over the Advent.
The Empyrean’s Throne near Lohgres would soon be complete. One evening, after the workers had packed up for the day, Artorius and Melchior went to inspect the great chamber.
“So, below this throne lies the largest earthpulse nexus in Midgand.”
“Indeed. I can feel Innominat’s power swelling.”
That satisfied Artorius that construction was going as planned. “What of the acquisition of the therions?”
“For six of them — greed, hubris, lust, obsession, escapism, and selfishness — preparations are complete. But hate and despair…”
“The one in Titania is still not producing pure Malevolence?”
Melchior closed his eyes and adjusted his monocle. “Perhaps we were right to doubt that one therion could produce two Malevolences.”
Seres materialized beside Arthur in a blink. “Velvet’s brother-in-law betrayed her, murdered her brother, cut off her hand, and turned her into a monster. Furthermore, he imprisoned her in a blood-soaked prison with no hope of escape. Even if she did escape, she would have no home or family waiting for her. For her not to have broken even now is nothing short of a miracle. If she receives no help — ”
Artorius gave her a look, but she continued unfazed. “It is well within the realm of possibility that she will experience unquenchable hatred and unfathomable despair.”
“You’re being quite forward, Seres,” interrupted the old Exorcist. The faintest trace of opposition in her nearly emotionless voice had not escaped his notice. “The viewpoint of a malak is irrelevant. Leave us.”
Seres bowed slightly and was about to vanish, but Artorius turned to her.
“Seres, why do you think birds fly?”
Seres removed her mask and looked directly into her master’s eyes.
“Birds must fly, for they possess strong wings.”
“Indeed. The wings of the ideal must beat and ascend into the sky.”
“Yes.”
“Velvet is dead. What’s in Titania is an offering to reason.”
“Yes.”
There is no place for emotion in the ideal world of the man who would be Shepherd.
“Excuse me.”
Seres put her mask back on and left.
Some days later, Seres visited a ruined village in Eastgand — Aball, destroyed in the Advent three years before. The village where she had lived with Artorius and Velvet was crumbling, its roads so overgrown they were no longer visible. Only one thing was the same: the sky was still blue.
But Seres had no trouble finding her way home. She went to visit the graves outside the abandoned house. Next to the grave of the late elder Crowes, there was a smaller stone for Celica, killed by daemons, and her unborn son. It was to that child — his child, his life ended before he took his first breath — that Artorius swore his oath.
“For this little life, the ideal wings will spread and soar through the skies”
The sorrow engraved by Arthur on the stone held Celica’s heart in a vice grip.
A few birds were circling in the blue sky over the ruins. Come to think of it, they were there back then, too, in the blue sky back when Celica had just met Arthur.
They had been on a prickleboar hunt, just passing by the Shrine of Tranquility, when Arthur asked her the question. “Why do you think birds fly?”
Celica giggled. “You think of some strange and difficult questions, don’t you?”
“Strange? Difficult?”
“I’ve never even thought about it. Well, I’ve wished I could fly like a bird. I even tried tying planks to my arms and jumping off the roof.”
“But isn’t that — ”
She nodded. “Oh, it hurt. I twisted my legs and they swelled up like balloons. My dad gave me some talking to after that.”
She smiled gently, remembering, and the wind blew gently through her hair. Then she pursed her lips and whistled, and one of the little birds flew down and landed on her hand.
“Tell me, why do you fly?”
The bird chirped at her. “Oh, it’s a secret?” She giggled again. “Just between you birds, right?”
Arthur looked genuinely taken aback. “Can you… talk to birds?”
Celica laughed. “That’s my secret!” She sent the bird back into the air.
“I wish I could be a bird and join them up there, though. Maybe then I’d know why birds fly.”
As Celica watched the bluebird fly up into the sky, Arthur thought her face was dazzling. He felt like the burden of his inadequacy as an Exorcist was lifting from his heart. “I wish we could, too.”
Celica looked at Arthur, looking up at the sky along with her, and chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”
Arthur stood at the same spot ten years later. “Why do birds fly? This is my answer, Velvet.”
“Ar… thur…”
Seres could only bear witness to the cruelty of her husband and the despair of her sister.
“I ask no forgiveness. The sin is mine to bear.”
The hatred burning in Velvet’s eyes.
“ARTORIUS!”
The screams of her sister, her arm eaten by Innominat.
She’d never forget them, nor the warm days and years before.
A tiny flame was lit in her heart.
Luzrov Hy Miomae.
The Executor of Purity.
She murmured her true name to herself, never to forget.
“Goodbye, Arthur.”
She turned from her grave and set off to Titania. She would save her sister and free her wings from the cage of reason.
I will execute my plan in the name of my ideal pure world.
Velvet woke up to the sound of birds singing.
“Celica…”
Velvet squinted into the afternoon sun streaming in through the window and tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. It felt familiar, but also impossibly sad.
Finally she held her head and shook it as if to throw the negativity out. Then she heard Kamoana squealing from the rooftop.
“Hey, Laphicet, what’s your true name?”
“My… true name?”
“Yeah! You said all you malakhim have one, right? Eizen didn’t tell us his or his sister’s!”
Laphicet stammered. “I guess…” Desperate to avoid answering, he looked around and saw Bienfu snoring away on the floor.
“Hey, Magilou told us Bienfu’s true name.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“Fuschie Cass. It means ‘thing,’ apparently.”
Kamoana laughed. “That’s so funny! I bet he looks super weird under his hat! Let’s take it off and see!” Her fingers were twitching with anticipation.
“Maybe, but we can’t just take it off.”
“But I wanna see!”
“He’s probably self-conscious about whatever it is, with Magilou calling him that all the time. And you’re not supposed to make fun of people, anyway.”
“…fine.” Kamoana pouted. “Then tell me your true name!”
“I, um…”
“Come on! It’s just your name, right?”
Laphicet fidgeted. “I’d like to know too,” said Velvet, coming up the ladder. “It’s not fair if Eleanor is the only one who gets to know.”
“Yeah! You two can’t keep a secret like that!”
“That’s… that’s not how it is!” Laphicet stumbled and fell over into Bienfu, who sprung up.
“Fine! I’ll tell you! The true name Eleanor gave me is…”
Bienfu chimed in. “Yeah, tell them, Laphicet!”
Laphicet stopped. “Wait, why?”
“Because a malak telling their true name to someone of the opposite sex is a declaration of love!”
“WHAT?” Laphicet turned bright red. “Well, I’m not telling anybody now!” He bolted, with Kamoana in hot pursuit.
“That just makes me want to know all the more.” Velvet took off after Laphicet, too. “Tell me, Phi!” An impish grin spread across Bienfu’s face.
A moment’s breeze in the storm.
But the blue sky was always there, everywhere.
Velvet would not learn Laphicet’s true name for a long time.
