Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 6 - Chapter 3.1

Chapter 3

ONE MORE CRAFTER

Anne had heard from Kat that Jonas was rumored to be in Lewiston, but she had never imagined he’d fallen so far. She was shocked to find him in such a state.

Jonas’s shoulders jerked when he heard Anne’s voice from where she was kneeling beside him on the cobblestones.

“Jonas,” called Anne. “Hey, Jonas. Are you sleeping? Wake up.”

Challe stood behind her, looking down at Jonas coldly.

“Leave him,” he said.

“I won’t. Jonas helped me once. It’s the reason he was expelled.”

After she shook his shoulders several times, Jonas finally raised his head.

“…Jonas,” Anne said again, relieved.

But the moment Jonas saw her face, he pushed her away. Then he wrapped his arms around himself and hunched over, as if trying to escape from her.

“What the hell, Anne?! What are you doing here? What do you want?!”

“Jonas, listen to me. Sammy’s actions came to light at the Royal Candy Fair, and your innocence was proven! Marcus told me to apologize to you on his behalf. And he sent a letter to your home in Knoxberry, asking if you would return to the Radcliffe Workshop. You can go back.”

“Is that really true?!” exclaimed Cathy.

When Anne nodded, the little fairy’s eyes lit up.

“Master Jonas! Did you hear that?! She said we can go back!” Cathy clapped both hands together happily, but Jonas didn’t move.

“Jonas?” Anne called out again.

When Jonas failed to respond, Cathy looked up at Anne.

“I don’t want to. I won’t go back,” Jonas said drearily. His voice was hoarse. “What would I get out of returning to the Radcliffe Workshop at this point? Keith is there. They’ll compare me with him again, and I’ll be miserable. I won’t go. There’s absolutely no way I’m going back!”

Jonas’s position at the Radcliffe Workshop was precarious. The maestro, Marcus, preferred Keith over Jonas, his own nephew. It must have been hard for Jonas there. Somehow, he’d always managed to hold firm in spite of that. But now, after the incident with Sammy, all the other candy crafters knew that Marcus didn’t trust him.

Jonas would probably have an awful time in a place like that.

“Well,” said Anne, “then how about going back to Knoxberry and taking over your family’s candy shop?”

“No way! If I run back home after only a year of training at the workshop, my parents will be utterly disappointed. And imagine what everyone in the village will say.”

“So put in the effort and go back to the Radcliffe Workshop…”

“I won’t go back there, and I won’t go back to Knoxberry, either! Just leave me alone already!”

Cathy looked at her pleadingly, but Anne was at a loss for what to say in the face of Jonas’s desperation.

His skills are solid, and yet…

Before, at the castle of the former Duke of Philax, Jonas and Anne had been the only two candy crafters allowed to stay.

In the end, Jonas ran away, but his abilities had been recognized. Even Hugh said as much the first time they met. Jonas was no slouch when it came to making candy.

Suddenly, something occurred to Anne.

“That’s it!”

She sat up straight, smiling broadly. She was very pleased with her idea.

“In that case, come to the Paige Workshop! That’s where I’m working now. We’re having a hard time because we don’t have enough candy crafters. Your skills would be an asset, Jonas.”

At the moment, the Paige Workshop needed every crafter it could get. Given Jonas’s abilities, he would definitely prove useful, and they would be much more likely to finish their work in time for the First Holy Festival.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Jonas finally looked Anne in the face. He sounded angry. “You’re always spouting nonsense!”

“I mean, if you don’t want to go back to the Radcliffe Workshop or Knoxberry, why not come to the Paige Workshop? We need candy crafters.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Anne. I’m sick of sugar candy. I don’t ever want to touch silver sugar again!”

“Wha—? Do you really mean that?”

“I do! I’m not like you. I’m not some simpleton who can’t do anything but make candy! I got good grades in school, and I’m a great swimmer. I can run fast. I’ve always been a good painter, and I’m good at singing, too. I can do anything at all. I don’t need to be hung up on sugar candy.”

Anne frowned. “All right, if you’re so skilled, what are you doing sitting in a dump like this? Shouldn’t you hurry up and find a different job?”

Anne had never been good at anything but making sugar candy.

She hated studying, and she wasn’t exactly clever. She wasn’t especially athletic, either. Furthermore, to her great dismay, she was tone-deaf.

In every town and village she’d visited, there were always two or three amazing kids who could do anything. Anne had always admired people like that. She’d envied them, certain that all sorts of possibilities would open up for her if she could do anything, like they could.

“What a waste it is, for someone who could do anything to be sitting here grumbling.”

“Shut up. I don’t feel like doing anything.”

“Why not?!” she said harshly, losing her patience.

She didn’t understand why someone who was so capable would choose to do nothing. It was lazy not to do what one could, and wasteful not to use one’s talents.

Anne wanted to cry over her own incompetence, and yet there were still things she needed to accomplish in her life.

If only she were skilled at everything, she would probably be making a lot more progress.

“What do you mean, ‘why not’? I just don’t want to!”

“Isn’t that a waste?!”

“A person like you could never understand!”

“That’s enough!”

Before she could think it through, Anne slapped Jonas’s right cheek with her open palm.

Cathy shrieked and tumbled off his lap. Jonas’s eyes bulged, and he pressed a hand to his cheek where Anne had hit him, staring at her.

“What do you mean, ‘a person like me’?!” Anne shouted. “I’m not very smart, I’m a slow runner and a bad singer, and I’m not beautiful, either! Compared with you, Jonas, I’m completely incapable of doing anything!”

Still holding his cheek, Jonas cast his eyes downward.

“You can…make sugar candy…”

“That’s all I can do! But you have a lot more skills than that, right?!”

“But I can’t make sugar candy like you can.”

Why does he keep talking about sugar candy?

Her mind, which had flared up in rage, suddenly cooled.

“By any chance, Jonas…do you want to make candy?”

Jonas shut his eyes tight, as if to reject the idea, and shook his head forcefully. “I told you, didn’t I?! I’m fed up with sugar candy!”

“Then if you can do anything, why did you decide to become a candy crafter? Why did you start making sugar candy? Wasn’t it because you wanted to?”

“You’ve got it all wrong! Ever since I was little, whenever I made a piece of sugar candy, my father and mother were delighted. They would say how I’d make a worthy successor and might even become a bigwig in some faction! They said I was good at it. That made me happy, so I wanted to make more candy. That’s why…!”

“That’s why you grew to love it, right? And why you wanted to keep doing it.”

At those words, Jonas opened his eyes.

“Jonas,” Anne continued. “Pleasing your parents made you happy. It made you want to craft candy. So you grew to love crafting. And from then on, you made candy because you wanted to, right?”

“No! I…!” Jonas started to shout, but then he choked up. “I—”

He hunched over and hugged his knees, hiding his face. Then in a thin, trembling voice, he said, “I…I want to make sugar candy…”

Anne was certain that, at first, Jonas had made candy because he wanted to. But his parents’ expectations, public attention, and other such things had steadily overtaken his desires and crushed Jonas’s feelings.

Cathy stroked Jonas’s hand as if to soothe him as his back heaved up and down.

A cold wind blew through the street, drawing Challe’s gaze to the sky.

“Jonas.” Anne spoke once more. “Let’s go together to the Paige Workshop. If you come with me, it will really help us. I mean it.”

Jonas raised his tear-soaked face, and Anne extended a hand to him.

“Anne. But I—”

“Let’s go.”

“…Anne.”

Jonas hesitantly took her hand. His own was dirty and rough, but Anne squeezed it tightly and pulled him to his feet.

“Let’s go!”

Jonas took one staggering step forward, and Cathy trotted after him, clinging to his leg.

Challe shrugged; Anne knew what he wanted to say. She was sure he couldn’t wait to call her a busybody or a credulous fool.

But even Anne wasn’t that good-natured. When she thought about all the cruel things that Jonas had done to her, it made her angry. But he had rescued her as well. Even if it was only the one time, he had acted to save Anne. And she was incredibly grateful for that.

If Jonas hadn’t helped her back then, Anne wouldn’t have had a future to speak of.

But right now, it wasn’t only her gratitude guiding her decision.

The Paige Workshop was backed into a corner and needed candy crafters. She might have a complicated history with Jonas, but they didn’t have time for that now. They needed him as a candy crafter.

It was a stroke of luck that she and Challe had happened upon Jonas there.

The Paige Workshop had all sorts of problems. They had been struck by one misfortune after another. However, Anne felt like there was still something propping them up. They still had a little bit of luck on their side.

It’s too early to give up just yet.

That was her honest opinion, without bluff or bluster.

“Whaaat? Is that you, Jonas?”

As Anne, Challe, and Jonas approached the wagon, Elliott, who was sitting on the driver’s bench, made a face like they had discovered some rare and exotic animal.

Jonas shrugged and hung his head, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I found a candy crafter,” Anne announced with a smile. “And I can vouch for his skills.”

Elliott’s shocked expression quickly melted into a grin.

“Well done, Anne. Now we might just make it.”

“Jonas! This is no time to rest! Get a move on!”

“But my feet hurt.”

“Your feet hurt? Don’t get cute with me, newbie! When I say ‘move,’ you move!”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Kat was “supervising” Jonas, shouting at him as he turned a millstone despite being completely exhausted.

Jonas had come to help out the Paige Workshop, and at Elliott’s suggestion, Kat had been tasked with guiding his work.

At first, Kat acted like he hated the idea, complaining that it was a huge pain. But once they started working, he began enthusiastically dishing out instructions.

“It’s great that he’s so keen to teach Jonas, but he’s really loud, huh?” Valentine said wearily as he turned his millstone. “In a completely different way from Elliott, he’s just really loud.”

King frowned. “Kat’s always angry. I worry all the time that he’s gonna burst a blood vessel in his head.”

Nadir, who was working alongside Mithril transferring the ground silver sugar into barrels, said, “But in a way, isn’t Mr. Kat kinda cute? Don’t you think so?”

“Listen, kid,” Mithril said. “You sure you know the meaning of that word?”

He seemed a little disturbed by the idea. King and Valentine, who had overheard them, also made strange faces, as though they’d just tasted something gross.

“But look! Mr. Kat’s working so hard,” Nadir insisted. “I think it’s cute.”

“Who said it?! Which one of you added ‘Mr.’ onto my nickname?!”

Sharp-eared Kat looked sternly around the room, and Nadir nonchalantly raised his hand.

“Oh, it was me.”

“You again, Nadir? How many times do I hafta tell you?! Never call me ‘Mr.’!”

“Why not? It’s much cuter to call you Mr. Kat than just plain old Kat.”

“Cute?! No one’s called me cute since I was five years old! Are you making fun of me?!”

“Then it’s been about twenty years, right? Aren’t you glad to hear it?”

Even Kat was at a loss for words. But Nadir wasn’t trying to be mean.

Challe, who had been watching the whole scene from the doorway, looked impressed. “That one’s the strongest out of all of you.”

Anne, who was standing beside him, nodded in agreement. “I think you might be right.”

It had been three days since Anne and Elliott were summoned to the Church of Saint Lewiston Bell.

They had finished drying all the silver sugar and were almost finished grinding all the sugar they had dried. They had about two more barrels’ worth to grind before all their silver sugar would be ready to use.

They had finished three days earlier than they’d originally expected. A sense of cheer had returned to the candy crafters, and Orlando was recovering well. Jonas had to endure Kat’s relentless yelling, but he was proving to be a real asset.

“You’re covered in sweat, Jonas,” Anne said to him.

Jonas snorted in response. “That’s because, unlike you, I don’t have to make up with physical endurance what I lack in intellect.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” Anne responded to his usual nastiness with a dry laugh.

Just then, Mithril turned toward Jonas and, without pausing, jumped up and smacked him sharply on the back of the head.

“There’s no need to be so brutally honest!”

“That wasn’t much of a defense, you know,” said Anne with a stiff smile. “But…oh well… I don’t mind…”

With that, Anne entered the workshop and started checking the amount of silver sugar the crafters had finished milling.

Challe was in the hallway leaning against a window sash, gazing at the scenery outside.

The clouds were low and heavy. It looked like it might snow at any moment. The first snow of the season would probably fall overnight, and in the morning, the garden would be lightly dusted with white. It was already early winter.

Lafalle hasn’t come back.

Challe hadn’t felt the slightest hint of Lafalle’s presence since the other fairy revealed his true identity and fled the castle. Challe was relieved, but at the same time, there was something ominous about the situation.

Lafalle, who had once been too weak to fight, had consumed sugar candy and regained all his strength in one fell swoop. It didn’t seem likely that he would give up on kidnapping a Silver Sugar Master now that he had experienced the power of sugar candy.

And he probably wouldn’t give up on taking Challe as his companion, either.

They were meant to be together. He had said it many times.

Even Challe, when he heard Lafalle’s true name, had felt a deep emotion difficult to put into words. When faced with a being so closely related to himself, Challe felt something deep inside his body react powerfully. It went beyond rational thought.

If he had gotten to me before I met Anne…

If not for Anne’s presence in his life, Challe likely would have left with Lafalle without the slightest hesitation. He would have estranged himself from the human world, and…

…Done what? he wondered.

Hunted down humans without a second thought, probably.

The fact that a fairy like him was here now, living with humans, was all because of Anne. He didn’t hate the humans around him. The fact that he could feel that way about any human showed how greatly he’d changed. Before he met Anne, he had found all humans besides Liz detestable.

Anne stepped out of the workroom and approached Challe with a stone bowl in her hands.

“Hey, Challe, won’t you have some of this silver sugar?! I just got Mithril Lid Pod to taste it, and I think the quality’s gone up! Come on—try it!”

In the stone bowl was some of the silver sugar the crafters had just finished milling. At her urging, Challe took a tiny bit of it onto one of his fingertips. It gently dissolved, as if soaking into his finger.

He sensed a gentle sweetness in his throat.

“It resembles silver sugar you’ve personally refined.”

Anne’s eyes lit up.

“I knew it! By repeating the process of drying and milling the sugar, we got rid of any impurities, and it became even better!”

Challe was amused by how happy it made her. Anne became completely absorbed when it came to silver sugar and candy sculptures, and Challe enjoyed watching her.

After touching the milled silver sugar, Kat nodded.

“The difference should show in the finished sculptures, too. With a texture like this, it’ll have a good luster when it’s kneaded.”

Anne exchanged happy looks with all the other crafters. Even Jonas, as exhausted as he was, smiled in relief.

And that was when it happened.

Suddenly, a chill ran down Challe’s spine.

It’s him!

He turned toward the lesser hall to find Elliott standing there silently. His face was frozen, his skin pale.

“Mr. Collins?” Anne said, noticing him, too. She tilted her head in puzzlement at his strange demeanor.

“…We’re done for,” he said. His voice sounded detached, and his expression never changed. “He’s here.”

Challe’s body was buzzing. His wing snapped taut. And that was when he noticed—twisted around Elliott’s stiff neck were numerous shining silvery-red threads.

“Lafalle is here?” Challe asked.

Elliott nodded slightly, and Anne went white as a sheet.

The other crafters noticed the change in atmosphere and stepped out into the hallway, only to fall dead silent.

“Where is he, Elliott?” asked Challe. “Those things wrapped around your neck… Where is he controlling them from?”

Challe concentrated on his right hand. Beads of light coalesced, condensed, and transformed into a silver sword.

The red threads coiled around Elliott’s neck trailed out of the corridor and toward the lesser hall.

“The garden. He attacked me from behind,” Elliott answered calmly, despite the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Challe glanced out the window. There was a fairy with red hair standing in the center of the garden. He had appeared without anyone noticing him.

He struck an elegant pose, holding a bunch of shining red threads at the ready in his hand. He was smiling. When he noticed Challe’s eyes on him, his smile deepened. The single wing flowing down his back seemed to quiver as it turned a deeper crimson.

“Elliott?!” Kat started to step toward him.

“Wait!” Challe raised his arm to hold Kat back.

Just then, Elliott groaned, and thin lines of blood oozed from shallow cuts in his neck. Kat blanched.

Bewildered, the candy crafters took several steps back. Any clumsy meddling would only make the situation worse.

“Elliott, I’m sure you have a message from him. Tell me,” Challe said.

Elliott grimaced painfully. “I can’t.”

The next moment, Elliott groaned again. The cuts on his neck appeared to grow deeper, and more blood flowed out of them, soaking the collar of his shirt.

The shining red threads wound around his neck must have been carrying the sounds of their conversation. Lafalle could hear everything they said.

“Tell me, Elliott. Don’t worry about what it is. I’ll take care of it. Just trust me. Tell me the message. If something happens to you, their proxy maestro, the crafters’ work will come to a complete halt.”

Elliott closed his eyes as if bracing himself, then finally began to speak.

“Hand over Anne. In exchange, he’ll release me. That’s what he said.”

As she stood there in a daze, Anne’s eyes widened in fear.

But soon, she bit her lip and mumbled, “He wants me.” She took several hesitant steps toward Elliott.

Challe anxiously grabbed her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I have to go. If I don’t, Mr. Collins will be in danger. If what Lafalle wants is a Silver Sugar Master to make him sugar candy, then I’ll be all right. I doubt he’ll kill me. I’m going.”

As if it had been waiting for those words, another red thread came flying out from behind Elliott’s back, aiming for Anne as it sliced through the air with a hiss.

Challe stepped in front of Anne, swung his sword, and knocked down the thread. The tip was severed and flew up toward the ceiling, where it burst into a shower of red sparks.

Just then, Elliott screamed. The shining red threads coiled around his neck had cut even deeper into his flesh.

“Stop it!” Anne shouted and stepped in front of Challe.

As if on cue, the red thread Challe had severed wriggled through the air and wound itself around Anne’s neck.

“Lafalle!” Challe shouted, overwhelmed by anger.

From all around them, red threads swooped in. Lafalle was controlling them like tentacles. He had Anne at his mercy, and his craven tactics left Challe with little room to maneuver.

As if responding to Challe’s angry shout, the shining red threads wrapped around Elliott’s neck slipped loose. Elliott crumpled to his knees on the spot.

“See, I kept my promise, didn’t I?”

Challe thought he could hear Lafalle’s voice. He could almost see the faint grin on the other fairy’s face.

“Challe?!”

Anne shrieked his name as she stumbled forward, pulled along by the silvery-red threads coiled around her neck. She staggered quickly onward, like a dog being dragged along by a leash. No matter how unwilling she was, she had to keep moving.

Challe seethed with even greater rage when he saw her in that humiliating state.