Even as she tried her best to shut her eyes, letting go of all the lying and pretending, she still couldn’t fall into the Sandman’s embrace.
So she looked around instead. The sun was straight above, the endless grass fields and plantations stretching out as if painting another world where war wasn’t always waiting on the horizon—a world peaceful and calm, with no end in sight.
If only the Reich were the only power standing… maybe this peace could last. I could find some quiet estate somewhere and live with Lina, Vierna thought, her hands clenching tighter around the idea.
'Hey… do you think Herr Halwen would let us be with Lina?' Moony asked.
Vierna hesitated. Right now, they were keeping their relationship a secret. But if it ever slipped out… would Halwen allow it? Would Arkmarschall Leopold let his “hidden blade” love someone?
I don’t know, Vierna admitted. It means we have to be stronger. We have to make them have to say yes.
Moony went quiet.
That’s why every move we make has to push us closer to our goal, Vierna pressed on. Or else we only could dream of it.
'Okay, Vierna,' Moony replied, though her tone held a faint edge—something she didn’t quite say out loud.
What’s wrong?
‘Nothing…’
You know that we are a team right? If you don’t tell me what’s going on I can’t help you.
'… Back when we poisoned them,' Moony’s voice shook, thinner than usual. 'Even when I keep telling myself it was necessary… there were cracks I couldn’t fix.'
Vierna didn’t answer. Some cracks inside her consciousness couldn’t mean good. And the fact even Moony didn’t know what to do with it haunted her ever more.
'When Lina said she’d accept us, the cracks went away. But… I don’t really know why.'
That’s simple, Moony. Vierna looked at Lina, asleep and glowing faintly in her aura. Her blonde hair shifted in the soft breeze, looking at her really make Vierna ache to see her real face. It means we can’t live without her.
'But… we already knew that, right?'
No. This time it’s real. If Lina’s gone, the cracks will never heal. Our Inner World will just… break apart.
‘What’s that going to do to us?’
That place is where you reside, and from the paintings and everything, I assume it has something to do with our thoughts and memories. Without it, I think it’s possible I’ll end up like those drooling test subjects.
Both of them went silent. The thought hit like a sentence already passed, sealing how much they needed Lina just to keep going.
'Vierna… I don’t wanna turn into a vegetable,' Moony whispered.
Veg— Moony, don’t say that about people like that, Vierna scolded her own spirit. It seems that Moony was a bit creative in naming things. Not a good one though.
But you’re right. We can’t let that happen. Vierna’s tone softened. We just need to train harder. Halwen said Kagemori are dangerous because they fight in pairs—we have to learn that too. Especially if we want to suceed in Ewige Schlange.
'…'
That’s why you need to figure out how to get out of me and fight too.
Moony didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, Vierna’s head felt empty—how it was supposed to feel. Ever since Moony had manifested, whenever she was somewhere quiet, she could always hear something faint inside her head, like water dripping, soft and distant. But now, that sound was gone. Only then did she realize that those faint echoes hadn’t been a side effect of the experiment at all, but something deeper—something connected to Moony.
'Vierna, I have to tell you something. Every time I pull you here, it feels like I’m taking your hand from a certain door. Maybe… if I went through that door, I could get outside.'
Then why don’t you try it?
‘No… I’m scared’.
But if that thing lets you come here directly, then it’s really important.
‘Vierna… I’m really sorry, but you don’t understand the fear. Honestly, I don’t even know how to describe it. The closest I can put it into words is like seeing a needle slowly coming toward your eye—you’d shut them without thinking, right? It’s like that… only worse. It isn’t just instinct; it feels like something clawing at my chest, forcing me to stop. Going through that door is like pressing my face closer and closer to that needle while my body screams to pull away. And when I flinch, the door slips farther out of reach.’
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Then how could you pull my hand through it?
‘I think the door reacts to intent. When I want to pull you here, that fear isn’t there. But when I try to leave, it floods back in. I’m sorry, Vierna. I don’t understand it much either, but that’s what I felt.’
Vierna didn’t reply her spirit for a while. While she understood the fear, she would need every tool at her disposal. Her mana was weak and now she saw a way to compensate.
The faint hum of the inner world pressed at the edges of their thoughts, a stillness heavy enough to feel alive. It was as if the world itself had gone numb. The breeze brushed against her skin, yet she couldn’t feel it. Even the distant chirping of birds sounded muted, like a quiet prayer offered to something that had already stopped listening.
Moony, you know I can’t do this alone, right?
'I know, Vierna… I’m sorry… I’ll try to cast more magic instead.'
Vierna realized something. If Halwen was right and magic was an action carried out by spirits, then what did Moony feel when she cast it? Being able to ask a spirit about that experience was probably something only a Kagemori like her could do. In a way, it could also serve as a bridge to bond with Moony.
Pushing her to go through the door would accomplish nothing especially when she was afraid of it. Moony was her spirit, and in some way, she reflected Vierna’s own nature. So when Moony said she was afraid, Vierna could guess that it wasn’t an ordinary fear—it was something deeper, something primal that clung to the core of her being.
So instead of forcing her, she would bond with Moony instead.
That reminds me, when you cast magic, what do you actually feel?
'It’s exciting, Vierna!' Moony’s voice brightened, a sharp contrast to her sulking tone from before. 'Like when you draw a really good picture, or make the perfect sculpture with your hands. I love doing magic so much! Like our Eidrecht spells. I go kabaaam when I use Push, and bsssst when I use ice. Hehe! Using magic is super fun!'
Vierna should have known. Of course Moony would share her love for magic too. And in a way, the way Moony described it was exactly how she herself felt. She loved the simple spells from training and duels: the way cold seeped from her fingers with ice magic, the rush of wind blowing her hair with Push.
'But… I can’t keep it up for long.' Moony’s voice turned small again, like a child told she could never follow her dream. 'And if you don’t say the incantation… I get even more tired.'
She knew what causes it. Faintborn’s blessing, a mockery of condition, to hear what it caused to Moony tugged a string in her heart.
'It feels like I’m some sickly kid.’ Moony continued. ‘I’m sorry, Vierna. I really am sorry.'
Her tone was the same one she used when she apologized to her mother. Hearing it stung, as if Vierna’s own spirit was apologizing to her.
Hey… it’s okay, Moony. It’s not your fault. We were born with it, and no one can change that.
Vierna still felt Moony’s frustration burning inside her. It had been there all along. But what did frustration do, except grind a spirit to dust?
Moony, we’re improving, I know it. We can chain two Eidrecht spells now, not just the telekinesis drills. We held our own sparring against Lisa and Lina. So cheer up. Sulking won’t do you any good. The only thing we can do is press on and train as hard as we can. Believe in the procedure, believe in the training they made for us. And that includes this mission too.
And believe me, Vierna continued, if I could choose how I was born, if not having the Faintborn’s blessing would mean I never met you, I would choose this life again, without a doubt.
'…Do you mean it?'
I do, Moony. So let’s do our best, okay?
'Hehe… you’re kind, Vierna,' Moony said. Despite not seeing her face now, Vierna could picture Moony’s pale smile. 'I will try to overcome my fear of that door. I just hope I don’t take too long.'
That’s all I asked, thanks.
After the serious conversation, Vierna and Moony talked about a myriad of things: their training, what Moony did when they were not talking, and what to expect in Rolbart. Not long after, Moony said there was something she needed to do and fell silent. Vierna did not really understand what a spirit did besides tending her subconscious, and Moony could not explain. She said she could not put into words exactly what she did.
So Vierna gathered what she understood about Moony so far. It appears, Moony’s knowledge of physical world tied to Vierna’s. If Vierna did not know something, Moony did not either. However, Moony’s knowledge of the spirit world ran a bit deeper than Vierna’s, Her stomach tightened. It felt wrong to know less about herself than a part of her did.
Still unable to sleep, Vierna looked again at the people around her. Lina snored, mouth gaping, asleep like a log. Seeing her like that tickled Vierna’s mischievous side; she wanted to wake Lina just to watch her reaction, but knowing Lina was probably sleep-deprived, she let her be. Vierna pulled a blanket from her storage rune and draped it over Lina.
Since her training began, Vierna had been expanding the rune’s capacity, and now it could hold as much as a normal backpack. She kept many things inside: a waterskin, another blanket, a fresh set of clothes, bullets, and her precious gun from the Arkmarschall himself.
She conjured her gun and inspected it, balancing it in her arms to gauge the weight. She wanted to fire it, to practice her aim, but decided it was not a good idea. Even conjuring the gun drew glances from the militia following them. They did not object—civilians often carried weapons in the Reich—but the soldiers’ grips on their muskets tightened.
The journey continued for a while until they could see trees in the far distance. Vierna’s eyes widened as she fixed on them. Even from where they rode, the wood rose above the hill like a dark sea of trunks. She knew she was still far from the forest, but its sheer size stunned her. It must be Schattwald Forest.
As the group drew closer, the trees still looked wrong. The woods were blackened, as if scorched by some terrible wrath, leaving the ground around them scarred and rotten. The most unsettling thing was the leaves. They were black as charcoal. When the wind brushed them, bits fell like a rain of stygian snow. From where she sat she could make out long, slithering vines, thick as an anaconda, coiled among the trunks. Even with the hill between them and the wood, the forest’s scale showed through.
When they crossed the crest of the hill, a small village came into view, pressed between the road and the dark trees. Rolbart sat close ahead, its houses clustered together and ringed by ordinary woodland—not sparse, yet not thick enough to swallow the light. The trees gave the place a quiet, sheltered air, though the way the road cut straight and clean through them—like the forest itself had been parted—only made the black wood beyond seem more unnatural, a shadow pressing against the edges of the village.
“We are here,” Mirelle said from her seat; she was awake now. “Aline, Crysta, welcome to Rolbart, village of the Haustwitch Barony.”
What would they found in the village?
