The Safest Blue

"No. Worse than you were at the very start."

Absurd. Then he had been worse than an ordinary person, hadn't he? And at that level he had walked into a forest seething with monsters.

"His defensive magic... you would have been better off blocking with a sheet of paper. As for the offensive kind, Hisnil, fresh out of sleep, could have slapped him with an open palm and done more damage. On an ordinary day I would have taken him for a joke, kicked him in the backside, and thrown him out. But it was wartime, and the price was horrific. Everyone died except me. I nearly died myself... and that was when you appeared. I made a mistake. I also had luck."

"...A safe place."

Artila said.

"A safe place?"

"Yes. A safe place. I think I was looking for somewhere safe, back then. Wherever you were, that was the safest place of all. It was luck for me too. If you hadn't been there, everything in front of me would have gone black."

"The man I was then couldn't have lifted a single finger for you."

"The monsters were already dead, so I was safe, and I had the cure, so you were safe, and you, brought back that way, kept me safe in turn. So in the end, wasn't I safe after all?"

"Then..."

Ilesin tilted his head and tapped his chin lightly, twice.

"If there's something you want to ask, ask it now."

"What does safe look like?"

"Usually it looks white. When it's truly safe, it looks blue. You were an enormous blue. Like a blue bird opening its wings. Even now, everything around you looks blue. Just being beside you is enough to be safe."

Artila narrowed her eyes and looked past his shoulder.

"That blue light is truly beautiful. Beautiful enough that it's a pity you can't see it."

"And if there is no safe place, what do you see?"

"Then I see nothing at all. A feeling of pitch darkness? And that's when I know. Ah, shit. I'm fucked."

Ilesin set a fist against his lips and pressed down hard, swallowing a laugh.

"Ilesin?"

"Nazares always speaks so nicely. Hisnil can be thoroughly unpleasant without ever leaving proper speech. And Zeldia—once she actually swears, it isn't even on that level. Where in the world did you learn it?"

"That... well. I must have been a rough sort of person to begin with."

"I doubt it."

"And how would you even— wait. Wait."

Artila stopped short and jerked her head up.

"What's wrong?"

"It isn't safe anymore."

"...It isn't safe?"

She spoke quickly.

"It wasn't, until a moment ago. From now on, it's dangerous. They're fast. Truly fast. They're coming at a tremendous speed."

"How much time is left?"

"Barely a few minutes!"

Ilesin turned and shouted.

"Everyone, ready! Monsters!"

They scrambled up in a flurry, but they were trained, and order returned almost at once.

"Everyone up! Hurry!"

Artila flung off the blanket and robe and ran. Bok startled and fell back. She seized a burning log, and out of the dark a huge black mass burst into view. She swung the flaming wood into it.

WHAM—

With a tremendous crash the monster was flung far and went tumbling.

Bok gasped in admiration.

"Magic already?"

"No—this is just the strength of my arm!"

"...!"

A monster sprang from the other side. Artila brought the log down hard on its crown, then spun the wood back into her grip, and Bok stared at her with worship in his eyes.

"Magnificent! You really are strong!"

"This one is magic!"

First, the formula for a shield. Artila thrust out her hand. Next, the formula for movement. The ground scraped away all at once—stones leapt, grass tore free—as if some vast plate were raking the earth, and something struck that shield again and again. Thud. Thud— At once she calculated the formula she needed next. Explosion.

The wall blazed a furious red, and flame shot upward. Beneath that red fire, the monsters were laid bare.

"Artila!"

Ilesin came at a gallop, caught her up in a single motion, and flung her into the carriage. She went sprawling, then rolled upright at once. He sounded impressed.

"Fast."

Artila seized the cord that bound the cargo. Ilesin pressed in close alongside the carriage and shouted.

"Move out!"

The driver cracked his whip. The carriage lurched into a run, and the whole party clung to its flanks and raced with it. Artila rose and looked out. The monsters, still burning, were giving chase, and a swift one drew level with them. Ilesin drew his sword and took its head. The head soared high, then rolled across the ground, and the huge body collapsed in a sprawl. Artila shouted.

"Everyone, get ready!"

"Ready for what!"

Bok called.

"Ready in your hearts!"

"What?"

Artila reached toward the ground.

The formula for acceleration.

Horse and carriage were seized as if by a riptide, their speed becoming tremendous. From every side came screams, and wails crying out for parents and siblings.

"I'm dizzy."

"Hrrk—!"

"Urp—!"

They were suffering, each according to constitution and stamina. Even Ilesin had his lower lip caught between his teeth, enduring the dizziness and the urge to retch.

"Annihilation, of a different sort."

He said it, drained. The knights were rolling about on the ground, and the horses had collapsed where they stood, blowing hard.

"...Faster than Hisnil..."

He barely managed the words.

"In speed, at least."

"..."

"That'll do."

Artila was miserably sorry, but she had never learned a spell that could restore them. Letting them come through it on their own was the best she could do.

"It's all right, it's all right. We're near the destination anyway. A day early, at that."

"In this state, they won't be able to do a thing all day."

"Then we rest. From here on it's within the circuit of Findrak's patrols, so there's nothing to worry about. And if there are monsters even inside a patrol zone, they'd be monstrous enough to finish Findrak's patrols as well—in which case we may as well give up and be eaten quietly..."

Ilesin leaned back against the carriage wall. Artila drew out a cloak and moved to cover him. He tipped his head away.

"What is it."

"You looked cold."

"I'm pale from dizziness, not from cold. I'm fine."

"Cover up anyway."

She draped the cloak over him, then slipped in beneath it herself. Startled to find them sharing it, Ilesin jerked back and struck the carriage wall.

"Are you all right?"

"I—I'm fine."

"Come here. I can't cover everyone in this carriage. I have to choose exactly one person, so I chose you."

"There are plenty of men weaker than me."

"Shall I cover someone else, then?"

"Don't."

Ilesin ducked his head and came in under the cloak. It was larger than expected—closer to a blanket than a cloak—and his face vanished until only his chin showed. He let out a long breath.

"It reminds me of my first days as a mercenary."

"Did everyone do this for you then?"

"Hardly. They invented every excuse there was to starve me, beat me... lock me up. Weapons, blankets—I had to buy them all with my own money, and the moment I did, someone stole them."

"...Why think of that, of all things?"

"I found myself wondering what you were doing then."

"Minding the pigs, I imagine."

Ilesin let out a short laugh.

"Why go looking for hardship like that? If it had been me, I would have stayed beside my uncle, flattered him diligently, and waited for him to leave it to me."

"I wasn't my uncle's child. I was his nephew, and a heretic besides, so if I meant to inherit the Pobern estate he'd been granted by the Emperor, I needed qualifications. War, or something else—I had to show results. Otherwise he would have had to send bribes around to the neighboring grand dukes and kings for their approval, and my uncle had neither the connections nor the money."

"So you became a Maze Conqueror in order to inherit a castle?"

"I thought it would be enough simply to come back alive. But I kept fighting, and before I knew it I had beaten even the last demon."

It was a little like setting out on a walk and finding you had reached the end of the world.

"And why win the swordsmanship tournament? With a reputation like that, you could have done nothing at all and still become master of the castle."

"Right. It was something I didn't need to do. I did it anyway."

Ilesin shook his head. The cloak over his hair swayed.

"Stupidly."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know. I'm disgusted with myself, that's all. I did something I didn't have to do, and everything snarled because of it. If that bastard had won in a tournament I wasn't in, nothing would have happened... It would have gone the way he wanted."

Artila looked up. Ilesin was glaring into empty air. She had never seen his eyes like this.

"Yes. Exactly the way he wanted."

His voice was low, but it sounded something like a beast growling. He was truly angry.

"That man... all he did was lose."

She said it quietly. Ilesin turned his head, and the cloak swallowed the top of it until only his chin remained.

"All he did was lose, and all you did was win. He lost because he wasn't good enough. Why should that be your fault for winning?"

"If it were you... what would you have done?"

"If I had lost... I would have kicked whatever was in reach until the top of my foot swelled for days and I went around limping. But that man keeps dragging a defeated past into the present. Not someone who lost once—someone who keeps becoming a person who loses."

"..."

"I don't want to live like that. Let me lose once, and be done. Besides, even second place pays plenty, doesn't it? I'd drink my fill on the prize and forget the whole thing. Give it a few days and I'd be bragging instead. I took second, you know—and who was my opponent but Ilesin of Findrak! Ha—ha ha!"

Ilesin laughed, shoulders shaking. When the laughter had gone on for a while, he said,

"When something comes that you can't stop... what is a person supposed to do?"

"Endure. That's all there is. Hoping this brutal stretch of time will pass. Beyond that, I don't know."

The world around them began to go quiet. Those who had been crying out in pain had fainted, or fallen asleep.

"I went and grumbled. Ungracefully."

"It's all right. I'll be the safe place for your heart. You can't say things like that to anyone else, anyway."

"..."

"Not to Hisnil, not to Nazares, not to the other knights... To them, you have to be someone who is right, no matter what. I'm not one of them. So talk."

Ilesin's shoulders sank, and the cloak sank with them.

"You'll grow tired of listening."

"I'll listen for a while and then think about something else. I'll think about the pigs. Oh—I named them Dunya, Panya, Munya, Kanya, and Seonya."

"And what will you do when the time comes to eat them?"

"I'll eat them perfectly well. Ah, so this is Panya's hind leg... delicious. You really were a good pig, right to the very end."