Whoooosh.
A fierce wind sent her hair whipping wildly in every direction.
Riersha stared into the dim, foreboding mouth of the cave with unfocused eyes — then spun on her heel without a moment’s hesitation.
Not even a single second of wavering.
“This isn’t the right place, Aska. Achoo!”
Surely not.
It couldn’t be.
Riersha clutched with both hands the cloak that Sona had tearfully fastened around her shoulders before she’d left the manor, and walked away without a single backward glance of longing.
“Hmm?”
But something strange happened.
Her feet refused to move forward.
She slowly looked back over her shoulder. Aska was standing exactly where she’d left him, his expression caught somewhere between helpless and apologetic, gently pinching the very hem of her cloak between two fingers.
“W-why, why, why are you doing that, Aska?”
Riersha’s voice trembled pitifully.
A wave of dread washed over her.
“I understand you’re truly frightened, but…” Aska said quietly. “This is the right place, Miss Riersha.”
Several seconds of silence settled between them.
Riersha gave a firm, decisive shake of her head.
“No it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“No!”
“…Haah. It really, truly is.”
Riersha’s lips quivered as she fought back a surge of emotion, her face crumpling into a miserable pout.
This cave — this exact cave — was the place she had to enter.
“Here. Take this hourglass with you.”
“…What is this?”
“The Forbidden Altar allows anyone to stay for exactly two days — no more. Not even the Emperor is exempt. …When the last of the sand runs through, you’ll be expelled to the outside.”
It was a sacred place where those hailed as the Empire’s greatest heroes lay at rest.
Riersha stared at the hourglass now hanging around her neck and swallowed hard against a dry throat.
I scraped through the written exam by the skin of my teeth, and that felt like a blessing at the time…
Why was life so hard lately?
Clench.
Riersha balled her hands into tight fists.
With every step closer to the cave’s entrance, a strange, eerie wind battered against her ears.
Hoooooo—
“Eek.”
The uncanny sound made every hair on her body stand on end. She stiffened and flinched in place.
Glancing back one more time, she could see Aska still standing at his post, waving.
“H-hiing…”
Sniffling, Riersha remembered to activate the hourglass.
Moments later, the last glimpse of her small retreating figure vanished completely into the cave’s depths…
And the entrance, visible from the outside, sealed itself shut without a trace.
⁂
The Forbidden Altar.
The name alone carried a faintly ominous ring — yet in truth, it was a special site where the Imperial family held its annual memorial rites.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of water falling to the cave floor echoed loudly through the stone.
Riersha had by now adjusted to the cave’s interior and was walking deeper inside with relative composure.
Unlike its grim exterior, the inside of the cave showed clear signs of human tending and care.
Though I suppose it’s a relief that I don’t have to sit for the same bizarre trials my brothers did?
The memory of Risideon surfaced in her mind — him ranting without restraint about how none of the Elders were right in the head.
Maybe it would’ve been better to just get my hands on the Token of Calling instead.
Suffering through some incomprehensible ordeal day and night hardly seemed worth it when she could return home with the Token of Calling and hold her head high.
…But how exactly does one obtain a Token of Calling?
Riersha tilted her head in genuine puzzlement.
Taking the name at face value — wasn’t it a token proving that someone had called for you?
“Who… would be calling for me here?”
She was the only person in this cave…
“…W-who?”
Riersha’s footsteps halted abruptly.
She went pale and began glancing anxiously in every direction.
Only now did the cave’s interior come into sharp focus.
Plaques bearing the names of those celebrated as the Empire’s greatest heroes lined the walls in dense, tidy rows.
A ceremonial altar rose tall from the very center of the chamber…
“Hik!”
And carved into the walls from floor to ceiling — enormous stone statues stood looming in every direction. Known as the subordinates of the goddess Rafella, they were said to be the guardian spirits of the Empire.
The moment Riersha registered the statues, she began stumbling backward with tears threatening to fall.
And then it happened.
From somewhere, a voice drifted through the air — bright with amusement.
Oh my, who is that little one? Terribly adorable little face. Whose child is she? Whatever household has lost their mind enough to send a child this young here.
I can think of roughly one household that fits that description.
Seems we’re on the same page, then? If a child this young is carrying a hourglass on top of everything else… she’s almost certainly from the Arachrene family.
Riersha doubted her own ears.
From somewhere unseen, voices were clearly talking about her — and had been for some time.
Tap, tap, tap.
Crisp, unhurried footsteps were drawing steadily closer.
A jolt of alarm shot through her.
Every muscle in Riersha’s body locked rigid as she drew in a sharp breath.
She couldn’t bring herself to turn toward the source of the sound.
When did I last see a human child? I’ll need a proper look.
Don’t get too close, Gatran. What if you frighten her?
Oh, please. Frighten her with what? She won’t be startled by a face as handsome as mine. And besides — she can’t hear us anyway… What a shame. This Arachrene child won’t be taking Arkas’s Token home either.
The voice — laughing softly, warm with mischief — was now just behind her.
Almost certainly the one called “Gatran.”
Even as fear crept through her like a cold tide, Riersha found herself snagged on something peculiar — a nagging familiarity in those names.
The one called Gatran…
That was the name of the Great Sage who had stood at the first Emperor’s side in the ancient era when the Declair Empire was founded, wasn’t it?
And the “Arkas” that had just come from his lips—
That was the name of the first Duke of the Arachrene family.
Why on earth were those names coming up here?
Riersha was blinking in bewildered confusion when—
Let me have a look.
Gatran came around to face her, bending down to meet her eyes.
He was slender, with a warm, approachable face, and quite tall.
Wow. He looks exactly like the painting.
Without even realizing it, Riersha had forgotten to be afraid. She stared openly at Gatran with wide, fascinated eyes.
He was a little hazy around the edges — but this was unmistakably the Great Sage Gatran.
Blink. Blink.
The two of them stared at each other in silence for a long moment.
What an absolutely precious little young lady.
Gatran had been smiling — light and easy — but something seemed to snag in his awareness. He tilted his head slowly to one side.
Hm… wait just a moment. Something’s not right.
Gatran shifted his body gradually to the left.
Riersha’s gaze followed in the exact same direction.
He tried the right. The same thing happened.
In an instant, Gatran’s mouth dropped open in sheer disbelief.
And then — as if he were the one who had been frightened — he scrambled backward several paces and began to stutter.
Sh-sh-she— this child—!
Riersha raised one hand and gave an awkward little wave.
“Hello.”
⁂
The cave, which had been buzzing with excitement over its rare small visitor, fell utterly, completely silent.
The air was thick with mutual astonishment on all sides.
Riersha looked around, then dipped her head in a polite little bow toward Gatran, who had fully materialized before her.
First things first…
An incredibly ancient grandfather.
He had to be many times older than even Arcmund.
She had no idea how he was still existing in this place as a spirit, but—
When you encountered an elder, the proper thing to do was greet them with respect.
Riersha introduced herself in her clearest, most careful voice.
“I am Riersha Arachrene. …Great Sage… Grandfather Gatran?”
⁂
…Oh, good heavens. She can see me. She can actually see me. Where’s Arkas? Arkas! Arkas!!
After a long, stunned silence, Gatran murmured to himself in a daze — utterly failing to sound composed — and then urgently began calling for Arkas.
Not long after, a deep, thoroughly put-upon voice answered.
A man with long silver hair and ice-blue eyes stepped into view, his cold face set in an expression of pure irritation, arms folded tightly across his chest.
What is all this commotion about. The Arachrene family sent their heir — so what. That happens every year. She’ll spend two days moping around in here and go home crying, same as always.
