by Funa
“Because the seasons turn so quickly amongst humans, knowledge of these people has been all but lost. Among the longer-lived species, though, like elves and elder dragons, and among spirits and the like, their legend lives on.”
When Dr. Clairia said “flew through the sky,” Reina’s face twitched. Mile, however…
“Y-you mean spirits really exist?! Like f-faeries?” As usual, she had latched onto the least relevant part.
The scholar was, understandably, livid. “That has nothing to do with the conversation!! Anyway, this is a huge discovery, if it’s true! Dragons, what kind of proof did you find?! Where did you find it?! How?!”
Watching Clairia babble and foam at the mouth, the elder dragon Berdetice became troubled.
“I-I don’t know. None of us are scholars by trade. Elder dragonfolk can’t travel all over the place investigating, so we enlist demons and beastfolk to conduct excavations in our stead. Then we go to the site to confirm what they’ve found. We’re nothing more than the liaison. They even got children involved this time… Er, never mind!”
Seeing Shelala glare at him, Berdetice swiftly changed the topic.
“Anyway, we received a missive from the beastfolk they had discovered something, and so we three—myself, my apprentice, Wence, and Shelala, who cajoled the chief and the elders into letting her come along—came to inspect their findings. That’s it. Furthermore, the results of our finding are that the artifact here was a ‘miss’.”
“Dragonfolk”? Mile cocked her head at the unfamiliar phrasing. As she thought about it, though, it began to make since. Humans didn’t think of themselves as some sort of animal when speaking of their own race, so it wasn’t all that strange that dragons referred to themselves as “people” as well.
Before she could spiral into more frivolous pondering, Mile snapped back to reality.
“A miss?” she asked.
“Indeed. It is nothing more than an artifact made sometime after the ‘Lost Epoch,’ by a people who deified said-epoch’s people. There are some fantastic, incomprehensible drawings that were discovered on the walls of what might be a great temple, but they don’t appear to mean anything.
“We have no more use for this place. We will ask the beastfolk to withdraw. Then they will no longer trouble you!”
Berdetice attempted to wrap up the conversation there, but this couldn’t end quite so simply.
“You’re all finished, you say? So you’re just going to go start up somewhere else, then? You’re going to secretly invade some other place and start capturing its people?” demanded Mile.
“…”
“And you have not only beastpeople but also demons in your employ?”
Berdetice, who suddenly realized he had let unnecessary information slip, clammed up.
“And for what purpose exactly are you searching for this ‘lost civilization’? Just what do you intend to do?”
“I don’t know! Even if I did, I couldn’t just tell you all about it!”
That much was probably true. Prisoners of war often said nothing, and what he had told them so far was probably all he deemed safe to tell them in order to avoid a war. Plus, there was the possibility he truly didn’t have all the answers. It wasn’t a stretch to think an underling wouldn’t have been given the full story.
From the elder dragon’s appearance and his manners, one could mistake him for a dragon of importance. Judging by their conversation, though, he was clearly no one special, at least as far as elder dragons went. He was a lowly errand boy, still green behind the ears. The less said about his apprentice, and the dragon heiress who had merely tagged along out of curiosity, the better.
Getting more information out of them was futile. Capturing and turning over elder dragons to the local lord was probably equally futile. Becoming an enemy of a dragon clan was still possible and could prove disastrous.
In all things, knowing when something was on the brink of becoming something else was far more crucial—and far more difficult—than the initial timing of when those things began. Mile understood this from the news, historical reports, and war records she had absorbed during her life on Earth. As they stood now, as mere C-rank hunters, their duty wasn’t to go about capturing elder dragons and starting wars between different races.
Those things were for important folks of the land to decide and for people of equivalent standing—or who had been suitably rewarded—to undertake. At the very least, it wasn’t a task for four rookie hunters who had been paid a few dozen gold pieces.
“Understood. Well, please show us these ruins, and then we’ll depart,” Mile said. “If you really have no more business in this place, then please desert it quickly. If you can, try and get out of here before the king’s soldiers arrive and this turns into a big mess.
“We’ll tell this region’s lord just enough to avoid problems, but that information is going to end up going to the palace. They’ll be keeping this in mind as a reference for future encounters. They’ll probably be on guard, should they come across you. Are you fine with that?”
After pondering for a short while, Berdetice nodded. “Please do so, then.”
Mile looked left and right. Reina, Mavis, Pauline, and Dr. Clairia nodded as well.
Dr. Clairia had come to this conclusion as an investigator of a lord, as a researcher, and as an elf. The decision to agree came naturally.
“Miss Shelala, will you show us the way?”
“Oh, me?”
Shelala seemed shocked to be called upon, but for Mile, she was the obvious choice. Going underground before the eyes of three elder dragons, who might turn on them at any moment was a bad choice—almost as bad as going alone with someone as powerful as Berdetice. If they could bring the weakest dragon along as a hostage—er, an effective guide—then that was the best option.
Still, Mile silently cast a barrier over them. Just in case.
“Now then, shall we?”
With the dragon girl (though you wouldn’t be able to tell just from looks) Shelala as their guide, the group descended into the great hole. After passing through some rubble and unsettled earth that was probably displaced when the hole first opened up, they came to an open space. From there, they entered an area that seemed like a great hall. This was most likely the “temple” Berdetice had mentioned.
Because Shelala was so large, she couldn’t enter the hall itself. If they forced her, the temple would probably collapse upon them all.
To avoid this, Shelala stuck her neck through the opening. Even before they’d come above ground some time ago, it seemed the three dragons had only stuck their heads in to see.
“Now then, Miss Shelala, what I’ve attached to your neck is a very thin but incredibly strong cord. If you move your neck too quickly, then…”
Mile drew a line across her throat.
“Ee-eeeeeeeeeek!” Though Shelala could be thought of as rather bold, once her life was at stake she was a coward.
With that threat in place to ensure the dragon wouldn’t run, Mile and the others entered the hall.
“Light!”
With Mile’s spell, light spread throughout the space.
“Th-this place is…”
As the light grew, the hall came into view. It wasn’t especially spacious. There was no altar nor any religious artifacts to be found. A completely empty space surrounded them.
However, they could soon see why Berdetice had called this place a “temple.”
The walls. All the walls of this dome-like room were covered in murals.
These murals hadn’t been made with brush and paint. They were magnificent tile-work masterpieces, formed from a myriad of colored stones and painstaking thought as to how to bring them together. They were the products of labor that took unthinkable amounts of time and effort.
At closer inspection, they discovered they weren’t tiles, per se, as every stone wasn’t flat. In any case, stones in a great variety of colors joined together to create the images upon the
stone walls.
Given that none of these stones had faded or fallen over who knew how many years, whoever constructed the murals must not have merely affixed them. They had devised some technique to drive the stones into the wall itself. This wasn’t surprising; anyone who would spend this much time on something like this wasn’t likely to cut corners.
Reina, Mavis, Pauline, and Dr. Clairia were all stunned at these impressive works of craftsmanship. Mile, however, standing stock-still with her mouth half-open, wasn’t thinking about the impressive amount of labor involved.
“Wh-what is this…?”
To the other people, this is probably how the scene would have looked: strange vegetation growing in clumps, fish and jellyfish. Was this the bottom of the sea, then?
Humans, elves, dwarves, beastpeople, and demons all existing in harmony—an image of an ideal future. Beside them was a draconic form very much like an elder dragon, as well.
There were various other scenes in the mural. Other life forms and unidentifiable things, all crafted from stones in countless hues.
“A fantasy…” said Mavis.
“This is the first time I’ve seen anything like this…” said Reina.
“It would be nice if the world really could achieve a peace like this…” added Pauline.
The three murmured as they stared at the walls. Dr. Clairia, however, was silent, a troubled look upon her face.
As for Mile…
“Wh-what is going on here?”
The mural was vastly different to Mile’s knowing eyes: rows of crowded skyscrapers, spaceships in ascension. Something like flying cars passing one another in the air. Humans dressed in researchers’ garb. Members of other races, ranging from infancy to childhood.
And, curled up beside them, a small dragon, looking like nothing so much as a pet dog.
Somehow, Mile understood.
These pieces weren’t someone’s wild imagination, cobbled together in some flight of fancy.
These were images someone had known they absolutely had to leave for future generations. They had devoted immense time and effort, perhaps even the rest of their lives, to crafting them in a way that would last.
If you wanted information to survive across centuries, the natural thing to do was draw a picture. That way, your idea would get across perfectly. That is probably why they put so much effort into constructing these murals.
For how many seasons did they hope these images would stand the test of time?
Who did they hope would see them?
That was when Mile remembered.
Back within that void, the so-called “God” had said to her:
“In truth, this world has collapsed a number of times, leaving only a scant number of survivors with meager skills. To offer relief measures, and as to conduct an experiment, we decided to interfere on a scale beyond what we would normally attempt.”
That interference was, of course, Mile’s old friends, the nanomachines.
Just like the professor, Mile stood wordless and still.
***
“Well, that’ll be all for us. Please vacate these premises quickly. If you want to avoid conflict with humans, anyway…”
“Wait!”
As promised, once they finished investigating the ruins, the humans prepared to leave, but Berdetice stopped them.
“It is unfair that we were the only ones who had to give up any information. We will need to report to our superiors, too. I demand you provide us with information as well!”
What a bother, Mile thought, but what the dragon said was fair. They likely would have to make some report, so coming back with nothing wouldn’t cut it. It was hard to be underlings and middlemen.
Besides, the Crimson Vow had only done precisely what any humans would do, so they had nothing to hide. Thinking about it that way, it would be rude to decline.
“What do you wish to know?” asked Mile.
Berdetice hoisted one enormous finger and thrust it Mile’s way. “You! Reveal your true nature!”
“Huh…?”
Everyone stared at Mile. Dr. Clairia seemed particularly invested.
It couldn’t be helped. So Mile decided to answer his question frankly.
“My true nature? Very well, I’ll tell you. My true nature is…”
Reina, Mavis, and Pauline held their breath.
“Once upon a time, I was the only daughter of a viscount. Another time, I was a C-rank hunter. However, my true form is…”
Dr. Clairia gulped.
“Mile, a completely ordinary, commonplace, average girl!”
“THAT’S A LIIIIIIIEEEE!!!!!!”
Everyone present shouted in chorus.
“Cease with your lies! You expect me to believe you are a mere human?!” Berdetice demanded.
“You can doubt me, but my pedigree on both my mother and father’s sides goes back for generations as part of a noble line. And I don’t think there’s been any blood of other races mixed with my ancestry in at least ten generations.”
“Wh-what…?” Berdetice was stunned at the reply. “I-I mean, I don’t smell anything but human on you… Still, you shouldn’t be so…”
In a panic, Mile started sniffing herself. She did smell pretty sweaty, but she couldn’t help that! She couldn’t!!!
“Well then, why are you so strong?! How can you stand up to an elder dragon?!”
Mile whipped a finger out and answered proudly, “Because there are tremors in my soul and a fire in my heart!”
“Hm? A-are you sure you’re really a pure-blooded human? You truly are something else!”
Mile grinned at this dire assertion, and replied, “Ah, yes, well I mean, I was born in a different country, so…”
Reina groaned. “He said you were something else, not from somewhere else!!”
Mile relaxed. Ah, some things would never change.
Leaving the three stunned dragons behind them, the Crimson Vow and Dr. Clairia departed from the site.
Ka-thud, ka-thud.
Something appeared from behind the trees.
“L-Lobreth!!!!” We completely forgot about them…
It was an awfully cruel thing to forget the ones who had saved their hides, if only briefly.
The girl who clung to Lobreth’s neck jumped nimbly down, ran up to the group, opened her mouth, and said, “Arf arf!”
“E-Elsiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee?!?!”
“Oh, my name is Chelsea. I’m Lobreth’s rider. We were dispatched here as your reinforcement!”
“Huuuuuuuuh?!?!”
According to the young girl’s story—which she told gladly as they healed the large wound on Lobreth’s left wing—things hadn’t gone as planned for Old Man Mage (whose name they had already forgotten).
He had said to the lord, “I wish to live in the King’s capital,” but that wouldn’t have profited the lord in the slightest, so the lord had refused.
It made sense. The ones who had been harmed were the soldiers and citizens of that territory. If he let the mage go to the capital, and he managed to wheedle his way into the palace through his old connections or something, the lord and his lands would benefit in no way, shape, or form. All the damages they had received would total out to a net loss.
By comparison, keeping a wyvern that listened to human commands and the mage who had devised those commands with them, and having them work for the good of the territory, was a huge boon.
Besides, all that happened in the territory was within the lord’s jurisdiction. He was under no obligation to turn a known criminal to the palace. Here, his word was law, and he could order whatever punishment he saw fit, including making the old man teach the secrets of controlling the wyvern to others. For free.
At first, when compelled to reveal the secrets behind wyvern training, the mage, who was under house arrest, had just prattled away. But after his continued obstinance, the word “torture” began to be bandied about, and he soon became far more helpful. Which was to say, he had
befriended Lobreth “by chance,” and there was no training method.
The indignant lord confiscated any pay the mage might receive and distributed it to the villagers and soldiers who had been harmed by the wyvern instead.
It came to pass that Lobreth and his singular war potential were drafted into the lord’s military, and soon a rider needed to be selected. Lobreth, however, loathed to let any soldier ride upon his back. Not to mention that if a full-grown man clad in armor with weapons mounted him, the magical energy needed for Lobreth to stay aloft would increase, leading to his range and combat abilities dropping drastically. Thankfully, there wasn’t a soldier around who was raring to ride the wyvern.
Finally, the lord asked the mage’s opinion. From among all the young girls with no family—someone who was light of body, needed no armor, wouldn’t disobey orders, and was expendable—one who had the aptitude was selected.
The young girl now stood before them, a girl who had previously known nothing but poverty and hunger in the slums.
“I never had a name. People just called me things like ‘Dirt’ and ‘Trash’, but Sir Byrnclift gave me a wonderful name: Chelsea! Since then, the two of us and Lobreth have lived a wonderful life together. Sir Byrnclift taught me how to fly. I’m never hungry, and I get a real bed to sleep in. Life with Lobreth and Sir Byrnclift is truly a dream come true.” The girl sounded positively blissful as she told her tale.
What was most surprising was she had an accurate grasp of the mage’s circumstances. Perhaps he had told her himself, perhaps she had heard it elsewhere, or perhaps she had caught snatches of gossip and pieced the story together. At any rate, she had exceptional faculties of reasoning for a ten-year-old girl from the slums.
Even though she knew the mage wasn’t a man of good reputation, her gratitude to him as her benefactor, and the obligation she felt towards him, were great indeed. Even though she knew she was being used as a tool.
“For some reason, though, he always makes me greet and reply to him with ‘Arf arf!’… Why is that? He’s treating me like a dog, even lower than a servant, isn’t he? Even so, Sir Byrnclift has shown me a lot of affection.”