Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.12 - Chapter 1

Memories

Amid the darkness, my rousing sensation was a sweet taste in my mouth. I thought that I would need to ask Gretia to prepare some mouthwash when I suddenly noticed someone call my name from afar. It repeated again and again, eventually becoming recognizable.

“Is that you, Ferdinand...?”

“Gods. Respond quicker next time.”

His rush to complain seemed a little unfair. “I answered the moment your voice reached me. That said... I cannot see you. Are you nearby?” No matter where I turned, I appeared to be alone in the dark. Unease rose up inside of me.

“Be calm,” he said. “I used a magic tool to connect our minds and nothing more.”

“Oh, right. You were going to do that once you finished dyeing my mana. Does that mean we’re done?”

“I channeled mana into you and encountered almost no resistance. The process is not yet complete, but we could say that you are almost entirely dyed with my mana.”

That was good to hear. Being dyed with his mana meant being free from that accursed divine power and, for all intents and purposes, getting my old mana back. I realized that the sweet taste in my mouth must have been a synchronization potion.

“Rozemyne, I shall now share with you my memories about those dearest to you. We can hope only that it spurs you to remember them on your own. They are all commoners, so they cannot simply channel mana into you. Do your best to remember who they were to you, the person you were back then, and why they meant more to you than the library of an actual goddess. You must remember them.”

Ferdinand took a stern tone as though giving me an order, but something about his voice made me think he was pleading with me. He was normally so dry and monotonic that hearing the emotion in his voice made me realize his desperation.

I, too, wanted to regain my lost memories. I swore then and there that I would, no matter the cost, and then remembered that the memory tool synchronized our emotions. The last time we’d used it, I’d relived the past with more clarity than usual, but my memories and emotions had swung Ferdinand all over the place.

“This time, I’m going to experience your memories and emotions, right?” I asked.

“I am loath to do this, but yes.”

Our emotions must already have synchronized; reluctance, hesitation, and resignation crashed down on me like waves. Ferdinand really must have hated the thought of me accessing his memories. It was crude of me, but I was a little bit excited to look past his stony mask.

“Let us begin,” he said.

The black void suddenly transformed into the temple. It was like we had teleported. I could tell from the passing scenery that we were headed to the High Bishop’s chambers. Ferdinand was so much taller than me that it was actually refreshing to see things from his perspective.

“I want to look over there,” I said. Despite my best attempts to turn my head, I was restricted to seeing whatever Ferdinand was looking at.

“No. You are experiencing this memory as I once did.”

Standing in front of the door was a gray priest I didn’t recognize. Arno requested that we be allowed through, and it wasn’t long before we were in the presence of the potbellied former High Bishop. I’d once seen him as a genial old grandpa, but now I could see the nasty glint in his eyes.

“I don’t like Bezewanst, but seeing him like this is pretty nostalgic...” I mused aloud. “Oh, hey! There’s me!”

A younger version of me wearing the uniform of a Gilberta Company apprentice entered the room with a man and woman I didn’t recognize. I was so short, barely even reaching Ferdinand’s hips. He could have covered my face with his sleeves without even needing to raise his arms.

“Holy heck, I was so tiny!” I exclaimed. “Is this really how I used to look to you? Wow! Did you ever worry about accidentally stepping on me?”

“How is that your first question? Good grief... Stop fixating on your height and pay more attention to the pair who entered with you. They are your parents. Your father, Gunther, works as a soldier and guarded you in Hasse. Your mother, Effa, is your personal dyer, whom you granted the title of Renaissance.”

It suddenly occurred to me just how little I remembered about the lower city. I recalled the business deals and contracts I’d made with Benno and Mark but almost nothing about my family or actually living there.

Those are my real parents...?

I doubted Ferdinand was lying to me, but I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t have any memories to make it feel genuine. The pair stood protectively in front of me, facing down Bezewanst as he demanded that they hand me over.

“I refuse,” the man said. “Myne won’t be able to survive here as a servant.”

“That’s right,” the woman added. “Even without the Devouring, Myne is very weak and sickly. She’s the kind of child who collapses twice during a baptism ceremony and ends up bedridden for days with a fever. She wouldn’t last in the temple.”

The blood drained from my face as I braced for the worst. They were only commoners; why had they dared to oppose the High Bishop?

Do they want to be executed?!

I took in a sharp breath. Just as expected, Bezewanst was furious that mere commoners were defying him. He invited several more gray priests into the room and ordered them to capture me, saying that he’d execute anyone who tried to intervene. I suspected that was how I’d ended up in the temple; my supposed parents had done their best but ultimately conceded.

Or so I thought. In response to the High Bishop’s threat, the man declared that he would go to any length to protect me, then started punching and kicking the gray priests away. His sudden outburst shocked me so much that I took a nervous step back.

“It mattered not whether they were the High Bishop or a noble from another duchy—your father took on anyone who might put his precious daughter at risk,” Ferdinand said, his voice reverberating through my head. “Can you imagine my surprise when I first met your family?”

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I was used to Ferdinand keeping his emotions hidden, but here he was wearing them on his sleeve. His voice was tinged with both envy and nostalgia.

“I can,” I eventually said. “I mean, I’m surprised as well. He has no sense of self-preservation, does he?”

“More reason to believe he is your father,” Ferdinand chuckled. “I can see what inspired you to keep fighting for me even when everyone else told you to give up—to charge into Ahrensbach with the knights of Dunkelfelger at your heels.”

I thought seeing a person go ballistic would terrify anyone, but Ferdinand seemed to perceive it as a profound act of compassion. He was shocked to see two people disregard status to protect their daughter but also deeply approved of their actions.

So there are parents out there who would quite literally fight to protect their children...?

A separate scene overtook my vision, allowing me to glimpse another man and woman.

“This must be the Goddess of Time’s guidance...” said the man with a somewhat troubled expression. I thought he resembled an older, kinder-looking Sylvester.

“I suppose Glucklitat has his trials for us all...” added the woman. She had feathery blonde hair and a gentle face.

And these two are...?

I was gazing up at them, which meant I must have been looking through the eyes of a young Ferdinand. It lasted only a moment before we were back in the temple, but I couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened.

“Was that man the previous Aub Ehrenfest?” I asked.

“Focus on what is before you. We are here to recover your memories,” Ferdinand replied, clearly dodging the question. “You were just like Gunther, unable to merely sit by when those you cared about were in danger.”

“I don’t know about that,” I protested. “I think I’ve ‘sat by’ on many an occasion.”

As if on cue, the young me started Crushing the former High Bishop. My eyes kept changing color as if an iridescent film covered them, and a thin yellow mist appeared to radiate from my body. I was outraged and doing everything I could to protect my apparent parents.

“You’re the one who’s being ridiculous. Don’t you dare touch my mom and dad.”

Mom and Dad...

The words echoed in my mind. I used to say them all the time. An intense wave of nostalgia washed over me and made my chest ache, but even then, my memories felt distant.

Even as I watched my supposed parents challenge the High Bishop for my sake and the young me rampage for them, I couldn’t understand my own emotions. Resorting to violence made no sense. It would surely have been better for everyone if they’d just conceded and allowed the temple to take me.

It was much easier to empathize with Ferdinand’s feelings about the whole incident. He was moved to see me fight for my family despite being so tiny but also anxious that I was committing a crime I would never be able to recover from.

“I still can’t remember them...” I said. “I used to have a mom and dad—I understand that much—but the rest is still a mystery to me...” It was so frustrating that I could almost cry. No matter how much I wanted to remember these people, my mind refused to cooperate.

“Perhaps I should show you someone else,” Ferdinand replied.

In an instant, our surroundings transformed into the High Priest’s room. I was used to these chambers, but the furniture was positioned in a way I didn’t recognize. We were seated around a table with Ralph’s parents on our right, Mark and Benno on our left, and a blond boy I didn’t recognize across from us.

“Um, what are we looking at?” I asked.

“Do you remember all those present?”

“Everyone except the boy in front of us.”

“So you recognize Mark and Benno...”

Indeed, I did. I remembered selling them plant paper and asking them to prepare the tools I needed to make more.

“His name is Lutz,” Ferdinand explained. “His parents are sitting to our right.”

“I saw them only as Ralph’s parents. I guess that means Lutz was important to me...”

“Yes. He made paper when you could not, worked at Benno’s store, brought the orphans from the temple to the forest, and spread printing throughout Ehrenfest as a Gutenberg. He was your arms and legs within the printing industry—someone who, in your eyes, was equivalent to family.”

“Equivalent... to family?”

“Watch,” Ferdinand said, indicating Deid, who was clumsily searching for the right words. “You stood up for Lutz when he ran away from home, fed up that his parents were keeping him from following his dreams. Your wish at the time was to resolve his family’s problems. Had that proven futile, it was your backup plan for Benno to adopt him.”

“But why are you here?” I asked. It was bizarre to see Ferdinand involved in the problems of a commoner family.

“You were the orphanage director, but you were still too young to permit Lutz’s adoption. I agreed to provide my name in your stead. It was purely business.”

So he said, but I sensed something deeper. His experience with Myne’s family had made him want to learn more about commoner relationships in general.

As the discussion proceeded, Ferdinand intently watched Karla and Deid. Lutz’s parents spoke crudely and were largely unmannered, but it was clear to everyone just how much they loved their son. Well, to everyone except Lutz. Ferdinand envied the boy for being cherished so dearly but also felt exasperated that anyone could remain so obtuse.

Still, Ferdinand directed the conversation in such a way that Lutz’s parents could properly explain themselves. It was thanks to him that, as the meeting advanced, Lutz went from being tense to completely at ease.

“As I told you the other day, after thinking about Lutz’s abilities and my future plans for opening stores, I conclude that I would like to raise Lutz into my successor,” Benno said.

From there, the conversation turned to the potential adoption. Deid was very openly opposed to the idea.

“You’re good at running a business and I’d bet you’re a skilled merchant,” he said. “You’ve even got the heart to forgive all the trouble Lutz’s given you. But you wouldn’t be a good father.”

Ferdinand was taken aback by the appraisal. He suddenly seemed more on guard against Benno and developed an even greater interest in the familial nature of commoners.

“Please explain why you think he would not be a good father. Does Benno have a bad reputation or something of the sort?”

Deid then turned to Benno. “No matter how good at your job you are, you’re trying to adopt a kid not for his sake, but for your business. Nobody like that would be a good father. Parents can’t think about everything as pluses and minuses. Am I wrong?”

Benno wasn’t the only one who found that shocking—Ferdinand all but gasped in response. In his head, a man repeated two short phrases: “the Goddess of Time’s guidance” and “for the sake of the duchy.” I didn’t recognize the voice, but I could guess from the resignation Ferdinand was feeling that it must have been the previous Aub Ehrenfest.

Is that to say the previous aub wasn’t a good dad to Ferdinand...? I mean, he outright said that he only took Ferdinand out of the Adalgisa villa because it benefited Ehrenfest...

No one noticed Ferdinand pause as he tried to steady his breathing. We were all too focused on Deid and Benno’s exchange and Lutz’s tearful murmurs when he finally accepted just how much his parents cared about him.

“C’mon. We’re going home, you brat.”

Lutz grinned as his father gave him a light chop on the head—and once again, Ferdinand watched on in envy. In his eyes, their relationship was as dazzling as the sun. A commoner boy had enjoyed since birth a certain warmth that Ferdinand would never get to experience.

My heart ached. I’d once said to Ferdinand that the previous aub had taken him in out of necessity and that Sylvester and I needed him in much the same way. In hindsight, that must have been the last thing he had wanted to hear.

His value or whatever doesn’t matter to me. I care about him unconditionally. Does he know that?

Exhausted, Ferdinand watched as his attendants cleaned the room. He then recalled the commoner girl sitting beside him and gazed down at Myne, who was still clutching the sound-blocking magic tool as instructed.

“It appears their family will do just fine,” Ferdinand said to her. “As I recall, resolving the problem and returning Lutz home was your ideal solution.”

“Mm-hmm,” she replied. “It’s perfect.”

And then... Myne started weeping with joy. It was unsightly to laugh and cry so openly. Ferdinand warned her to stop—that she was acting like a slave to her emotions—but she simply replied that she was too delighted.

“Lutz, I’m so glad things worked out...”

Ferdinand gazed down at her. Despite not being directly involved, Myne seemed to feel all the same emotions as Lutz. I could sense how genuinely curious Ferdinand was that she felt so strongly about someone who wasn’t even related to her by blood.

I wonder what I would need to do for—

“Rozemyne! Do you remember Lutz?”

“Guh?!”

My eyes widened, and my mind went blank. I couldn’t even remember what Ferdinand was thinking.

“Sorry, uh... Come again?”

“I asked if you remember Lutz.”

“No, I don’t. But I must have cared about him deeply to have shed tears of pure joy.”

More than that, though, I now understood that Ferdinand was deeply fixated on family and parents. I was less curious about Lutz, whom I couldn’t even remember, and more interested in probing Ferdinand now that our emotions were synchronized. Saying that he was like family to me must have meant more to him than I’d ever realized.

I continued, “Perhaps because I still don’t remember this Lutz person, I’m unable to empathize with the Myne we see here.”

“Do you not remember him at all...?” Ferdinand asked. “Not even now that you have seen his face and heard him speak?”

“Not at all. Before, when I saw those people who were meant to be my parents, it felt like I nearly connected to something. But with Lutz, I don’t feel anything in particular.”

I noticed a surge of shock and concern within Ferdinand. On the one hand, he was irritated that “Lutz matters that much to her?!” On the other, he was still desperately racking his brain for memories that might help me remember.

I probably shouldn’t admit that I was too focused on Ferdinand to think about anyone else. Especially when he’s going to the trouble of showing me memories with Lutz.

“Perhaps we could try memories of your dream world,” Ferdinand said. “You might find those easier to connect with.”

I thought that was unnecessary—my memories as Urano were already intact—but he must have proposed it for a reason. I decided to humor him, wanting to know how the other world might impact his emotional state.

It’s my living room. Aah, this takes me back...

We had gone from the High Priest’s chambers to my house back on Earth—somewhere I would never be able to return to, no matter how much I desired it.

“Since we’re here, how about we seek out some books?” I said. “Let’s check my room.”

“You never took me there, so there are no relevant memories we can visit.”

“Gaaah, what a huge blunder! Fine, the library or bookstores from before will do. Just take me somewhere with books.”

“I refuse.”

I was aching to return to all the books of my Urano days. Ferdinand, meanwhile, was glad that we didn’t have access to my room, as he thought letting me read was a waste of time. His cruelty knew no bounds.

Completely ignoring my invitation to go somewhere with books, Ferdinand approached a shelf decorated with arts and crafts and pointed at one item in particular. “This was the basis of the lace hairpins you wear, was it not? I recall your explanation.”

“It is, but... Wow. I’m surprised you remember it this well, considering that you saw it only once.”

The details of that conversation were a blur to me, but Ferdinand evidently remembered them all. It must have had something to do with the way our brains were wired. I was mulling the thought when Ferdinand tensed up a little. It was strange having such direct access to his emotions; I was so used to having to watch for the slightest twitch of his brow.

“Ferdinand, is something wrong?”

“Do you remember who made the first hairpin you sold to Benno? Do you remember for whom it was made?”

“Huh?”

I dug through my memories while he patiently awaited my answer. I remembered introducing hairpins as a new product when our production of paper started to settle down. The guildmaster had wanted a new hairpin for Freida’s baptism, and the sheer amount of money I’d made had seemed absurd at the time.

But my first hairpin... I’m really not sure why I made it.

“No,” I replied.

“To my knowledge, it was for Tuuli.”

“My hairpin craftswoman?”

“I seldom have opportunities to see her, but I was present when she delivered one of your new hairpins.”

Our surroundings changed again. We were in the orphanage director’s chambers this time, for a reason that I promptly recognized.

“This was when I received Lady Eglantine’s hairpin,” I said.

“Do you recall, then, the reason you are glaring at me with such displeasure?”

“I don’t think I would even if my memories returned.”

As he said, the Rozemyne in his memories looked guarded and especially disgruntled. Ferdinand, in turn, was displeased to see her frowning at him when he was taking time out of his insanely busy schedule to check up on an order for the royal family. He vented those frustrations by reaching out and pinching her cheek until she had tears in her eyes, revealing his immature side.

He really was lashing out!

“That is Tuuli,” Ferdinand said, indicating a girl with braided green hair. I could sense his anxiety about how the other Rozemyne would react to seeing her; she had just woken up from a jureve, and two whole years had passed since their last meeting. Seeing that she was more tense than usual, he kept one hand on his hip so he could pull out a feystone the moment her emotions burst forth and she lost control of her mana.

Rozemyne locked eyes with Tuuli. A slight smile arose on her lips, and the tension seemed to drain from her body. I could see the love and compassion in the young craftswoman’s blue eyes—the same love and compassion I’d seen from my supposed parents.

I remember that warmth...

“I have humbly brought a hairpin for you as well, Lady Rozemyne.”

Tuuli had made a spring hairpin for me during my two-year slumber. Rozemyne smiled as warmly as if she had just seen a book and asked for some assistance with putting it on.

For a moment, Tuuli gazed cautiously at Ferdinand. Then she removed the hairpin Rozemyne was wearing and tenderly replaced it with the new one. Her hands were so kind and gentle as she inserted the ornament into my hair and neatened the last few errant strands.

“Does it suit me?” Rozemyne asked.

“I made it to suit you, Lady Rozemyne. It looks perfect.”

Rozemyne and Tuuli exchanged a look, then smiled. I could tell from their expressions how much they treasured the brief moment they were getting to spend together.

Aah, I don’t want this to end.

A single thought wandered through my mind, though I couldn’t tell whether it belonged to Ferdinand or me—he was as taken with the scene playing out before us as I was. It pulled at his heartstrings to see Rozemyne keep trying to reach out to her loved ones, from whom she was separated, and to see her family do everything they could to close the distance between them. It wasn’t his fault—our hands had unfortunately been tied—but he was overwhelmed with regret for having torn me from them and allowing me to lose two years of my life.

His remorse feels so extreme—like there’s an immense, immovable weight on his conscience.

I’d never expected him to feel so guilty. I wanted to tell him to relax and that he hadn’t done anything wrong... but I paused. As it stood, I didn’t have the whole picture; I could think only of all the times he’d saved me. I wondered if my opinion would change when I regained access to the memories of these people whom he claimed were my family members, so I swallowed my words of consolation and said something else instead.

“Ferdinand, do you remember why I made my first hairpin?”

“Benno told me you made it for the sake of your elder sister, Tuuli. Your entire family created it together to celebrate her baptism ceremony.”

As if on cue, our surroundings changed, and we were taken back to the High Priest’s chamber. Mark and Benno were looking straight at us.

“How is this?” Benno asked, opening a box containing the hairpin I’d worn for my noble baptism. “As requested, we used the finest thread we had access to. Hairpins of this style were first introduced when a child made one for her elder sister’s baptism and then sold the design to my store. We think it would be perfect for celebrating Lady Rozemyne’s baptism ceremony.”

“Oh...?”

Ferdinand, too, considered it an ideal present for me, as I was studying so hard to become a proper noble. He was right, of course, because I remembered crying when I’d received it. I just couldn’t remember why I’d cried.

Benno continued, “Tuuli, who has experience making hairpins for apprentice shrine maidens, worked with her mother to weave the thread, while her father carved the stick out of wood. Lady Rozemyne will surely be overjoyed to receive it.” He gave Ferdinand the same unfaltering smile he wore when he was certain of his victory.

In the blink of an eye, Benno vanished, and we were back in my old living room.

“Do you remember?” Ferdinand asked. “How you made the hairpins, I mean. Given your single-minded obsession with books, I assume you grew tired of creating such ornaments just as quickly as you gave up on embroidery. It always concerns me when you launch into a new endeavor on a whim, so your parents and elder sister must have been anxious when you proposed your hairpins. Or perhaps they gleefully cooperated from the very beginning. They are your family, after all.”

A vague memory arose in the back of my mind. I asked someone for yarn and then saw my hands start crocheting with a precisely carved crochet hook. I sensed people around me, though they appeared only as vague shapes.

“They did. Or at least, I think they did. I can see someone touching the finished petals, though I can’t make out their identity. Someone complimented my work and called it amazing... but who?”

Ferdinand must have found that promising because hope suddenly swelled in his chest. “You must be thinking of your family.” His eyes turned to a basket sitting nearby. “Perhaps you wove together as well.”

My mom from my Urano days had always rushed to start new projects and then lost interest partway through, leaving me to finish them all on my own. These figures from my commoner days, however, must have worked alongside me. I grasped at whatever fragments I could, desperately trying to remember them.

“Ink, hide glue, rinsham, candles, soap—you could never have made all these things on your own. Who nursed you back to health each time you caught a fever? Who supported you when you were too sick to go outside? You must remember the lectures you received from those who were worried about you.”

Several voices echoed through my mind.

“Come on, Myne!”

“Would you please sit still?”

“Myne, what are you doing?!”

“C’mon, let’s go!”

I recognized the voices but couldn’t put names to them. They continued to speak over one another, and the clamor became so intense that my head started to ache.

“They were so mad and so worried... I couldn’t help out at all, since I was so sickly and weak, but... That’s why they were always there for me.” My eyes grew hot, and tears blurred my vision; I could tell these memories were precious to me. “And yet... I can’t remember ever caring for them. Isn’t that heartless? Books are my entire world. The only thing I care about more is, well... you, Ferdinand.”

“Yes, because I am the only one who has channeled mana into you since Mestionora severed your memories. Your love for your family runs deep enough to drown an ocean.”

I could feel a storm of emotions stirring within Ferdinand—elation, resignation, sorrow, and a wish for me to regain my lost memories as soon as I could. His anxiety made me feel anxious too.

Ferdinand continued, “It was only when I synchronized with you and peered into your memories that I encountered the sort of compassion you have for your family. It was unlike anything I felt for Sylvester and our father. If anyone is heartless, I am. Your emotions are too strong and sincere for the term to apply to you.”

We were suddenly transported to my dining table, where my mom was eating in front of me. I could see freshly cooked rice, natto, miso soup, teriyaki yellowtail, meat and potatoes, mixed vegetables, and various pickled goods. It was the same feast Ferdinand saw when he peered into my memories.

“Despite never having eaten these dishes, I am still nostalgic for them...” Ferdinand mused.

“Do they remind you of your own mom’s cooking?”

“No, I mean because I synchronized with you. I am more nostalgic for the meals you devised in Ehrenfest... as I discovered while stuck in Ahrensbach.”

Was that really a compliment? Now that we were linked, I could sense that he was just glad to eat food that definitely hadn’t been poisoned. I’d thought he was a genuine gourmand—a lover of tasty meals—but his true standards were shockingly low.

“Ferdinand, what kind of life must you have lived to consider unpoisoned food a luxury...?”

The meal in front of us changed from Japanese food to something that resembled roast beef. Ferdinand started to choke, desperately fighting back the urge to vomit, and the pain he was experiencing shot through me as well. A woman with blonde hair, cold green eyes, and a cruel smile simply looked on. She brought to mind an older Detlinde.

“Fool...” Ferdinand spat. The woman vanished, and we returned to sitting with my mom. “Choose your words carefully lest you see too much. Memories of that nature will only obstruct you from remembering your family.” I could guess from the hatred swirling within him that the scene I’d just witnessed had once been an everyday occurrence for him.

“I imagine that woman was Veronica,” I said. “You might not agree, but I think that memory was worth seeing, even if only for a moment. That glimpse of your past makes me realize just how fortunate I was.”

“Yes, that is correct,” Ferdinand replied at length. “You truly were cherished and raised with love.”

My mom from my Urano days loved me—I could see it in her eyes. My heart pulsed with joy as I thought about all the care and consideration I’d received growing up.

Because I was seeing this memory through Ferdinand, who had witnessed it while peering into my mind, I sensed the uncertainty that had washed over him upon seeing a mother who openly and unconditionally cared about her child. I, meanwhile, had felt regret, remorse, nostalgia... and love.

Indeed, of all my discordant emotions, love reigned supreme. I thought about my family on Earth, whom I would never see again, and the family I was spending time with, and a single thought appeared in my mind.

I really do love them all.

“Ferdinand... I can’t remember my family from before, but I think my feelings for them are coming back. They really are precious to me. I adore them all so much, but... I just don’t know them.”

We were so close to a breakthrough. I could see their faces, hear their voices, and even repeat their names, but I couldn’t access my lost memories. A thin membrane stopped me from remembering my time spent with those I cared about.

“I didn’t take them for granted, right?” I asked. “Please, tell me I showed everyone how much I cared about them.”

Ferdinand winced in pain, and our environment changed once again.

We’re back in the High Priest’s chambers. Father and Sylvester are here, but... when is this?

As I tried to figure it out, Arno announced the arrival of some visitors. Ferdinand said the usual greeting for guests, at which point Fran led my family into the room. My dad and Tuuli were holding hands, while my mom carried a baby in a sling.

“Myne!”

Tuuli pulled away from Dad and, with a dazzling smile, ran over to Myne, who was wearing the robes of an apprentice blue shrine maiden. She threw her arms around the old me, then pulled away and started checking that I wasn’t hurt. It came so naturally to her that I could guess she had done it all the time.

“Dad was super hurt and came to get us with a scary look on his face. He even said Mom had to bring Kamil to the temple, so I was really scared something had happened to you, Myne. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Tuuli sounded genuinely relieved that her younger sister was okay. Her love for me was resonating with mine for her, and a broad smile spread across my face.

Ferdinand, in contrast, was overcome with grief as he watched us. That he had even found a way to spare Myne’s family was a cause for celebration—few commoners survived opposing a noble—but it meant severing Myne’s connection to her family much earlier than he had anticipated. She could no longer wait until she turned ten and needed to enroll at the Royal Academy. It was a cause of great concern for Ferdinand, who had come to cherish their relationship after hearing so many enviable, heartwarming reports from Damuel and Fran.

Myne’s parents understood the situation and promptly knelt, their expressions racked with anguish. Tuuli was told to kneel as well. She looked around, then quickly did as instructed. Ferdinand could see Myne’s face fall as she realized she wasn’t kneeling with them.

The room was cleared, and silence fell. Sylvester was openly reluctant but wore his best archducal expression as he permitted those kneeling to sit down. Going forward, they would discuss Myne becoming a noble and getting adopted.

“Is this my fault?!” Tuuli cried. “You were attacked because I came to get you, right?!”

Myne shook her head. “The culprit was inside the temple all along, so I would have been attacked even if you hadn’t come to get me. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine for getting you all wrapped up in this.” She paused, then gazed straight into her sister’s eyes and said, “It was scary, wasn’t it?”

Myne did what she could to explain the situation, trying her best to console Tuuli. She stressed that she had to become a noble to spare her family and attendants.

But you are not to blame, Myne. We ended up in this situation because I could not keep my attendants under control.

I could hear what Ferdinand was thinking. He was watching with gritted teeth as Myne tried to comfort Tuuli, who had cast her eyes down and started to sob. If only Arno had properly informed him of Fran’s message or Bezewanst’s arrival, he could have prevented the incident before it spiraled out of control.

This was not what I planned.

Ferdinand wrestled with shame and regret while Myne attempted to reassure each member of her family. He was moved by the strength of their bonds and distraught that he had to be the one to tear them apart.

“I promise. I’ll make your clothes, no matter what.”

“I love you, Tuuli. I’m so proud to have an older sister like you.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” her mom said. “I love you, Myne. My precious Myne.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Myne then took Kamil in her arms. “I don’t think you’ll remember me, but I’ll make lots of picture books for you. Be sure to read them all for me, okay?”

Her last heart-to-heart was with her dad.

“I’m your father, but I wasn’t strong enough...” he said in a low voice. “I couldn’t protect you.”

“No, Dad, you’ve protected me my whole life. If I ever get married, I hope it’ll be to someone strong who can keep me safe just like you have.”

“If whoever you marry can’t protect you, I’ll come beat him up myself.”

“Uh-huh. I know you’ll always be there for me, Dad.”

“I take and take and never give...” I muttered, unable to bear what I was seeing. Even when my family showered me with love, I showed them so little appreciation in return. I would probably have started crying if not for the fact that I was stuck in a memory and physically unable to.

I wanted to regain my lost memories. I needed to. I couldn’t stand the thought of not remembering these people who were clearly so important to me.

“My name’s going to change, and I can’t call you ‘Dad’ anymore, but... I’ll always be your daughter. I’ll protect this city, and you, and everyone. I will.”

Myne’s ring shone. Her emotions stirred, and her mana started to run rampant. Ferdinand clutched his schtappe and rose to his feet, determined to keep her from accidentally harming her family. He warned her to be careful... but she refused.

“My mana is overflowing because of my love for my family. I need to use it for their sake.”

Myne’s ring shone brighter, and she slowly held out her hands.

“O mighty King and Queen of the endless skies. O God of Darkness and Goddess of Light. O mighty Eternal Five who rule the mortal realm. O Goddess of Water Flutrane, O God of Fire Leidenschaft, O Goddess of Wind Schutzaria, O Goddess of Earth Geduldh, O God of Life Ewigeliebe. Hear my prayers and grant us your blessings.”

Each name Myne spoke caused a yellow glow to radiate from her ring. The light of a blessing began to dance through the air, made purely through prayer and without the aid of a magic circle or divine sigils.

This is too great of a burden for her body to bear!

Ferdinand debated whether he should intervene. Meanwhile, Myne continued to petition the gods, letting her mana stream out freely.

“I offer you my heart, my prayers, my gratitude, and ask for your holy protection. Grant those I love the power to strive toward their goals, the power to deflect malice, the power to heal their pain, and the power to endure trials and tribulations.”

The light swirling around the room—a manifestation of Myne’s love for her family—was so stunning that it rendered Ferdinand speechless. I, too, was enraptured.

“Eek!”

“Rozemyne? Are you okay?”

The moment the blessing rained down, my memories returned to me, starting from when I’d first awoken with a fever. The days I’d spent with my loved ones, the time Lutz had asked me whether I really was Myne, the joy of completing our first batch of paper, and the excitement of creating a printing press—only now did it occur to me just how much Mestionora had severed.

As my memories continued to return, I came to realize the truth of my situation: I’d ended up forgetting not just the people I cared about most but also all the times my negative emotions had taken control. I remembered the starving orphans locked away in the orphanage’s basement, being held at knifepoint by Shikza, almost dying to a trombe, and my Pandabus getting bound with light before I was made to drink a strange potion. My thoughts then wandered to Eglantine and Anastasius forcing me to circle the Academy’s shrines, the door that had refused to open and stopped me from obtaining the Grutrissheit, seeing Ferdinand collapse when he was poisoned, the man who had turned into a feystone upon dying...

“Rozemyne! Rozemyne...!”

Ferdinand’s voice echoed in my ears. He already sounded angry and would get even angrier the longer I remained silent... yet I couldn’t bear to respond right away.

Give me a moment. I need my head to stop spinning...

I nervously opened my eyes to look at Ferdinand and saw that his face was mere inches from mine. His eyebrows were drawn in a deep frown, but he relaxed the moment he saw I was okay. He held me close and muttered, “Thank goodness...” under his breath.

Wait, what? Is this really him? It can’t be, right? He must have broken or something.

I remained completely still, clueless as to what was happening.