History is just a word that means the accumulation of records. This was a conviction of Dersia's, or something like it. However, she accepted this sentence as a simple fact, not as something akin to a conviction.
If all records that captured the scenery of that era were lost, how could one speak of its existence? Who would remember an age that was never even named? Therefore, history is nothing more than records.
It can be no more, and no less. Up to this point... it was a somewhat agreeable thought, but Dersia went a little further. Isn't that a truly terrible thing?
The existence of a vanished era, the forgetting of a miraculous invention that could change lives—isn’t that the kind of thing that gives you chills and makes it hard to breathe just by imagining it? Someone must take responsibility. And that someone is our race.
We, the long-lived races, are the ones who have been given the role of protecting records! Give up your life and delve into all records. When your twilight years approach, begin to leave behind records of all you have read.
And then die. What life could be happier than this? It did not take long for Dersia, branded a madwoman after seriously preaching this monstrous way of thinking, to be exiled from Paradise.
Usually, an elf exiled from Paradise ends their life by suicide before long, but Dersia simply decided to live among humans and became the master of a magic tower. That was a hundred years ago, but Dersia had never once regretted the choice she made that day.
In fact, no matter how many times she thought it over, she believed it was the right choice.
Behold.
"... I apologize for the late hour."
This vast world was still full of mysteries yet to be known. Something she would never have seen in Paradise. She smiled gently and advised.
"First, you should wipe off that blood."
Honestly, I'd arrived at the library... but I thought no one would be here. It was evening, already starting to get dark; it was too late. I couldn't help it.
The blood flowing from my eyes wouldn't stop, and of course, I didn't have anything like bandages. It was hell itself. Tears of blood flowed again over the dried blood.
The slightest movement made it hard to breathe, the thickness intensifying. If anyone saw me, they'd think a corpse was moving. Also, I'd heard that things like the undead actually existed in this world, so I took paths with no people to avoid suspicion, which took too long.
Fortunately, there were no guards, so I got in by picking the lock, a skill I was now all too familiar with. I'll just wait here for Dersia to come tomorrow. Thinking that was the best plan, I quietly entered the library, and right away, I heard the sound of a page turning.
"...?"
At this late hour? Amidst white hair, a pair of black eyes that had been staring only at a book turned toward me. She was always mysterious to behold.
Putting aside the fact that she was of a different race, it was the very aura she exuded.
"... I apologize for the late hour."
Drip, drip...
Shouldn't I first ask for forgiveness for dirtying the floor? As I gave an awkward greeting, Dersia raised her right hand.
"First, you should wipe off that blood."
In an instant, the sticky, dried blood evaporated.
Thud.
She closed her book with a sound and stared at me without asking any questions. Rather, it felt like she was waiting for my question.
"Uhm, I know it's rude to show up so suddenly and ask this, but..."
As I racked my brain, I felt blood start to flow from my eyes again.
"Did you perhaps know this would happen?"
"Yes."
Dersia admitted it readily.
"Although it is far more severe than I expected."
"Ah, I'm sorry."
I wiped the corners of my eyes and then roughly cleaned my hand on my butler uniform as I asked.
"What's happening to me?"
"You're amazing. You've worked hard."
"... Huh?"
A completely unrelated answer. I tilted my head and looked at Dersia. I didn't understand what she was talking about.
Instead of answering, she started playing with the books like a child. She stood a few up and placed one on top like a roof to make a small house. Just as I was wondering what this was all about, she suddenly said something strange.
"Imagine this. The empty space between these books is a sealed chamber inside a giant box made of steel."
"... Ah, yes."
"Can something be born inside here? Nothing was put in before, and there is no way to interfere from the outside."
"I suppose not."
"Correct. But what if something was?"
Dersia pushed a small candle into the building made of books. That must be me in her analogy.
"It shouldn't exist, but it came to be. Now that only the result exists, what do you think is the most correct course of action for 'this'?"
"Isn't it to escape?"
"Do you think a tiny candle can melt through a wall made of steel? Some impossible things are truly impossible. This is one of them."
"Then I don't know."
"I see. In that case, what do you think is the way to last the longest?"
"... To stay still?"
"As expected, you're very clever."
Dersia blocked the view completely with other books so the candle couldn't be seen.
"You are not a being of that world to begin with. You are a being with a body and mind made of things from this world."
"Survival is impossible, and it is self-evident that sitting still and waiting for death is the way to survive the longest."
"That is why I said you worked hard. Truly, you've worked unbelievably hard—to the point of ending up in this state..."
Dersia looked at the tears of blood that had started flowing again, staining my butler uniform, and smiled as if she was proud. An elf smirking at a 10-year-old child shedding tears of blood. It was a rather surreal sight.
"You must have learned magic. You must have understood the laws of that world, at least a little."
"Not content with being in contact with it all day, you experienced it and came to know it."
"Perhaps you thought, 'This is not some other world, but a place I can understand and accept.' That's what you must have thought."
"You're right about everything. So what?"
My words had thorns, but Dersia didn't mind.
"Don't be ashamed. Those tears of blood are the result of your efforts. By struggling within that Deep Sea, you are slowly pulling forward the destruction that will inevitably come one day."
"Ah, please do not misunderstand. Enduring does not mean you will survive when you reach the end."
"It is merely the difference between dying in agony or dying after living an ordinary life."
"So there's no way to stop it, then."
"Of course there is. Two of them, in fact."
She smiled faintly and held up her fingers.
"As I mentioned last time, based on what you have heard and experienced, and trusting in your cleverness, I will present the most efficient option."
Dersia folded one finger.
Crackle!
A book on the floor twitched and then shriveled up. A purple powder that gave off smoke was left behind. I furrowed my brow, bent down, and touched it.
It had the texture of sand.
"What is this?"
"It is Ranya."
"What is Ranya?"
"Hmm, in human terms... it would be a narcotic."
I immediately brushed off my hands, startled.
"It's not like that, so rest assured. Unlike a narcotic, its toxicity is so potent that your brain will shrivel up and you will die the moment you ingest it."
"Could you please explain exactly what part of that is supposed to be reassuring?"
"There was a time when some human emperors offered everything they had built in search of Ranya."
"For a few seconds before you die after ingesting Ranya, you will experience a pleasure greater than any you have ever tasted."
"Aha. Not bad."
I knew what Dersia was suggesting, and I smiled. It was an extension of what she said last time. I could accept it because I knew she was offering it out of consideration for me.
If you stay still, you die. If you struggle, you die painfully. Faced with the result of death no matter what I do, she was offering to at least take away the pain.
It was the most rational choice.
"But I refuse."
I stomped on the Ranya with my foot, crushing it. Dersia didn't get angry. Instead, she asked with interest.
"Hmm. I'm curious as to why."
"Like I said last time, I can't die feeling this wronged."
My trying to survive isn't for the purpose of survival itself. It's a sentence that's beyond absurd, a contradiction in itself, but it's true. If I die this way and I die that way, I will struggle until the very end.
The struggle itself is my purpose. Of course, saying it like that would be too long, so I shortened it appropriately.
"You only die once in life. If I'm going to do it, I'd like to die painfully."
Dersia's expression slowly turned blank. Did she not like my joke? She looked at me, her lips twitching, then took on a seriously contemplative expression and held her chin.
"... It might not be to that extent, but..."
What is she contemplating? Is she thinking of forcibly killing me for my own good? She might actually do it.
As I was slowly backing away, she folded her other finger.
"There is another way."
"What is it?"
"Convince me."
"?"
While I was wondering what she meant, Dersia puffed out her chest.
"Jern, as I said before, you are a being that is beyond peculiar; you are strange."
"Didn't you say there were a few fallen mages like me?"
She shook her head in denial.
"You are in a different league from them. In the past, there was a bizarre group that went around destroying mages' heart-realms, claiming that falling was the only path to ascension, so there is much information on heart-realm mages. However, not a single one of them was in the heart-realm from birth."
"Is that so?"
"It is. To be honest, I am curious. I want to know more about you, Jern. It's because I'm addicted to the act of recording things in my mind."
Her tone was a bit... off.
"However, I do possess something called a conscience."
"Yes?? Really???"
"... Yes. Analysis, of course, means recording your death. In what manner will a human born from hell suffer and die, what is the driving force that moves him, what can he leave behind. It is a cruel thing. Especially if the subject is a 10-year-old child."
Dersia added the strange words, "... Above all, Ciel is the problem...," and then cleared her throat.
"If you can show me something that makes me cast aside my conscience, I will accept you as my disciple."
"Then what changes?"
"Everything changes. With a 9-Star Great Mage as your master, you'll be able to try things that are incomparable to your current conditions."
"Even if it still ends in death, you will be able to struggle more fiercely than you are now."
Honestly, it was a tempting offer. At least my money problems would be solved. I couldn't keep causing a ruckus at the gambling den every time I was short on cash.
"Show me that you shine. I heard you are at the academy. Any method is fine. The moment rumors of a natural body who has learned a bizarre magic reach the ears of me, a Great Mage..."
Dersia smiled that same unsettling smile as before and said.
"I will come and find you myself."
"... Understood."
There was no other way. We had a staring contest for a moment, then I got annoyed by the blood constantly flowing and rubbed my eyes.
"So, can't you do anything about this? I feel like I'm going to die from blood loss before I can do anything."
"I have prepared for that."
Dersia levitated a small bag and sent it over. I opened it to find it was full of pills as red as blood.
"One every two days should be enough, but when you have to use your magic quite a bit, take one a day. It'll be easier to think of it as a hemostatic and headache medicine... As for the other burdens, you will have to endure them yourself."
"That alone is more than enough. Thank you."
The slight sensation of being underwater and my reduced field of vision, I can handle. But if you had it, you could've given it to me before we talked... I immediately took one out and crunched on it, and like magic, the bleeding stopped.
The effect is fast. ... But what's this? I pointed beside Dersia, who was looking at me like I was a plump pig.
"By the way, is that some kind of performance art?"
The trapped candle had escaped from the steel box. To be precise, it was burning up all the books.
"... It is."
Dersia, acting as if nothing was wrong, coolly flicked her fingers and put out the fire.
"It was meant to tell you to become a flame like that one."
I stared silently at her shameless face. Well, I'm only going to be learning magic from her.
"Haa..."
It was the dead of night by the time I was able to return to the orphanage. So much had happened that I just wanted to get some rest, but I couldn't really lie down.
The Director would be worried, so I was going to find him first and let him know I was safe, but— The Director's office was dark, and no one was there.
"?"
This time I returned to the dormitory, but again, no one was there. Chills ran down my spine. Could it be retaliation?
Did they finally identify me and come looking?
"Tsk...!"
I have to check. Just as I was about to kick the door open and rush out, I met the eyes of someone entering with a lantern.
"... Jern? It looks like you're okay."
It was the Director, drenched in sweat. Was he looking for me? Judging by his still anxious expression, that didn't seem to be it.
"What's going on? No one's here."
"Th-that's right! It's an emergency, Jern!"
The Director grabbed my shoulders, his face horrified.
"Linmel is missing!"
"... What?"
What is this now?