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Interlude, A Tale (7)
Roselin had chosen her own mystique.
Not one she was born with, but one she chose for herself.
No human had ever acquired a mystique after birth. Rare cases existed of someone awakening late to a mystique they'd been born with by chance, but a human born without one had never gone on to gain one.
And yet, Roselin had done exactly that.
By her own will, she had chosen her mystique.
It was proof that half of her was a witch, and proof that she had finally accepted the half she had spent her whole life denying.
"Impossible." Merlin's eyes went wide.
Of anyone in the world, Merlin had hated mystiques the most, and precisely because of that hatred, had studied them the most deeply. She knew exactly how absurd this moment was.
"Choosing a mystique? A human? Even if half of her is a witch, how is that even..."
What rattled Merlin was that Roselin was still human. Despite having awakened a mystique, her soul still held its human shape.
The outer layer of her soul was human.The inner was witch.
Human and witch at once, witch and human at once. A contradiction made flesh. Why the two had not blended together but instead stood apart as outer and inner, Merlin couldn't begin to understand.
'Because that's the only way to protect her.'
Najin understood.
'From the witches' Taboo.'
The rule and Taboo set by the Witch of Camlann. Any being who broke it became the enemy of every witch, to be dragged to the Black Spire. Refuse the punishment, and something far worse waited.
And Roselin Ascalo, by her very existence, defied the Taboo. A being where witch and human had mingled. Living proof that a witch and a human had loved each other.
'She's exactly the kind of being that would send witches foaming at the mouth.'
"That's... true."
'So that's why she was hidden.'
Just as a father holds a child close to shield her from harm, the witch in Roselin had been buried beneath the human. Albert's soul was the shield.
Remarkable, Najin thought.
Parents would do anything for their children. No matter how tangled, how hard, how brutal the path, they found a way to see it through. What the world called paternal and maternal love.
'Though I wouldn't know what that feels like.'
"......"
Born alone, never knowing his parents' faces, Najin felt a quiet bitterness settle in his chest.
"Roselin."
She looked up from the masterpiece she'd been staring at. Her eyes held bewilderment, and the beginning of tears.
"Your mother is being held in a place called the Black Spire."
"Where's that?"
"A tower built on a remote island in the middle of a great lake, deep in the Outland. A kind of prison for witches who have broken the Taboo."
That was where her mother had been kept. Imprisoned there for six hundred years.
"I brought a letter from your mother. And I made her a promise, to deliver it to you and then tell you all of this."
Roselin wiped the corner of her eye with her sleeve and nodded. Najin relayed everything he had heard from Rena, the red-eyed witch.
「If you ever grow strong enough to set foot in the Outland, my child,」
「come find me someday.」
「Whether it takes ten years, a hundred, or longer still, that's all right. I'll be waiting for as long as it takes.」
When Rena heard that Roselin had been born safely into the world, that she had inherited her father's talent in full, she let herself dream of what if. If her daughter grew strong enough to step into the Outland, to cross the great lake and challenge the tower itself, then maybe, just maybe, they could meet again.
"With those words, your mother fell into a deep sleep. Dreaming of the day she would see you again."
"......"
"It's also her way of healing. For six hundred years she endured a curse that ate away at her body, but she no longer has to."
Being freed from the tower meant renouncing witchhood, and that renunciation normally meant death. But there was a way it didn't have to go that far. Najin knew how this story could end without tragedy.
Just as Anton and Lapis had done, if Roselin were to support Rena, her mother could survive. He had told both of them as much.
"Your mother said she doesn't want to burden her child with this. That simply seeing your face would be enough. So the rest is your choice."
A guide only points the way.
"What will you do?"
"You're calling that a question?"
Roselin's mouth curled into a smirk.
"Don't you know what I'm like? I'm greedy. I have to sweep up everything, this and that both, and I'm not happy unless I've kept every last piece."
She smiled. A mercenary's smile. Roselin's smile.
"The resonance from that tower, way out in the Outland, reached me. And since it reached me..."
She rapped her knuckles against the masterpiece in her hand, the Echoing Swords.
"I have to send it back."
The mystique Roselin had chosen was Resonance.
The Witch of Resonance, Roselin, tightened her grip on the Echoing Swords.
"To my mother."
Roselin Ascalo was a genius.
These days that reputation had faded somewhat, eclipsed by the natural disaster that was Najin, but before he appeared, Roselin had been regarded in Cambria as something of a symbol of success.
She had founded her own mercenary company at a young age and reached the stage of Sprouting while still considered young among martial practitioners. Not just a talent limited to Cambria, either. Across the entire continent, those who had reached that stage at her age could be counted on one hand.
「......」
But that was as far as she went.
Roselin couldn't find a reason to push further. She'd risen to Sword Seeker, passed through Sprouting, with Blossoming practically within reach, and still she hadn't moved.
She couldn't find a reason to train any harder. The life she had was satisfying enough.
Running the mercenary company, drinking with her crew. Creating a space where she could laugh and talk without a care. That was her dream, and reaching Sword Master wasn't necessary to see it through.
Sword Seeker. That was enough, and the moment she reached it, she lost her drive. She settled, and she was happy. Even a genius stops growing once they settle. And so her growth had stagnated.
"The Black Spire has the Trial of Reminiscence."
Now, in this moment.
"It's a trial you have to overcome alone, without anyone's help. According to someone who accompanied me there, you'd need to be at least a Transcendent to endure it without breaking."
"...Then what about you? You went, didn't you?"
"I'm an exception. My circumstances are a bit unusual."
"Fair enough. And?"
"Meaning, if you want to challenge the Black Spire, you need to reach the level of Transcendence."
Roselin had a goal now.
"Once you meet the minimum condition, go here. There's someone who's promised to help you."
"An ally?"
"Anton Quixano and Lapis."
"...The man who fell in love with a witch?"
"Yes, he was my traveling companion."
A reason to keep moving forward. A reason to look toward higher ground.
"Alright."
Roselin stood, the letter from her mother pressed close to her chest and the masterpiece Echoing Swords at her hip, the inheritance of a father she'd never truly known.
The long night had finally ended, and the sun was rising.
Sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, painting the room gold. Roselin yanked them open. She pushed the window wide, let the stale air out and the warm morning light in, and stretched.
A goal. She had a goal.
A parent is the first guide a child ever meets, the first to show what it means to grow up, what kind of person to become. It had taken forty years for Roselin and six hundred for her parents, but Rena and Albert had finally shown her the path.
She smiled as she gazed toward it. It was a path worth walking. Picturing her mother waiting at the end of it, Roselin Ascalo closed her eyes.
"Najin."
Perched on the windowsill, she put a cigarette between her lips. Flick. She lit it and spoke.
"Want to make a bet with me?"
"What kind of bet?"
"You said you're close to Blossoming too, right?"
"I have a rough sense of it."
"Same here."
Same starting line, she muttered.
Then she breathed out a long stream of smoke and tilted the corner of her mouth up.
"How about a bet on which of us reaches Sword Master first?"
Najin's eyes went wide.
"With me?"
"What? Think you're out of my league?"
She laughed and tapped the ash off her cigarette.
"Sure, you're growing at an absurd pace, I won't deny that. Eighteen years old, at an age where even reaching Sword Expert would shake the whole Empire, yet you're already a Sword Seeker on top of that, with five stars to your name."
"But." Roselin shrugged. "I'm just as special as you are, aren't I?"
Rena, the Witch of Sole Supremacy. One of the five greatest witches in existence, the Witch of Camlann included. And Albert, hero of the Allied Nations, who had survived a thousand duels against her. Half of each of them had dissolved into Roselin's soul. It was said children never inherited a parent's talent in full, but in Roselin's case, she had. She had simply been looking away from it until now.
"Watch."
Roselin lifted the Echoing Swords and flicked the flat of the blade lightly with one finger.
Twang.
A light hum. But it echoed and echoed, filling every corner of the room. Then, with a high ringing cry, the Sword Aura riding the blade bloomed like a flower.
Blossoming.
She had shot up a stage in the span of a breath. Najin stared wide-eyed, then burst out laughing.
"Didn't you say we were on the same starting line?"
"Up until a moment ago, sure. Not anymore."
Roselin shrugged.
"I'm one step ahead. Kid."
To reach the Ascension of the soul, Transcendence, what mattered most was believing in yourself. And Roselin Ascalo had spent her entire life denying half of herself.
No longer.
The witch's soul that made up half of her was not the mark of a curse. Not proof of dark magic, not something filthy or repulsive, not something horrible. It was her mother's gift, and proof of love.
What had always been a wound. The distrust and self-hatred for half of what she was were gone. If someone mocked that half now, it wouldn't reach her. Because whatever anyone else said, she knew better.
"Huh." Najin let out a short laugh, something between amusement and disbelief.
Someone called a genius even while denying half of herself. A being close to a miracle, born between Transcendents. That such a person was stepping up as his rival, Najin genuinely enjoyed.
Until now, no one had even tried to keep up with him. Nobody had thought to try.
And now, for the first time, someone had stepped up. He laughed, out loud, and rose from his seat.
"I should have told you to keep it formal."
"Uh, oh..."
Roselin broke into a cold sweat. Did I overstep? Should I have bowed and thanked him first?
"I'm joking. Fine. Let's have that bet."
Najin tucked the postman's hat and bag into his coat, then snapped away the transformation magic that had been draped over it.
Whoosh.
The only coat on the continent he was permitted to wear. The Free Knight's uniform settled around his shoulders as he raised his hand.
"Free Knight, Najin."
The raised hand came to rest on the pauldron shaped like a horned helmet on his shoulder.
"I accept that bet."
Hand resting on the pauldron that stood for his teacher, Najin smiled with easy confidence.
"If you're thinking of beating me, that won't be nearly enough."
"I'm at a higher stage than you."
"I've beaten Transcendents. Could you win a duel against me right now?"
Roselin shook her head.
Ten fights, ten losses. The man in front of her was a Sword Seeker, but he had the strength of a Transcendent.
Still, Roselin said.
"The higher the goal, the better. Don't you think?"
"That I agree with."
The bet was sealed.
The next time he crossed paths with her, Najin was certain it would be in the Outland.
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