I had resolved to use magic by my own will. Having made this pledge before Baron, I began new training, and several days passed. That day I was working at Valentine's shop, polishing porcelain that had arrived from across the sea from eastern lands with a dry cloth.

  "Sith, are you all right? Haven't you been sleeping?" Valentine asked, looking concerned.

  "Yes, I'm fine," I replied.

  It was, of course, mere bravado. I had told Baron that I would protect everyone, but inside I was filled with anxiety. Like a cup filled to the brim, I felt I might overflow at any moment. I sighed, looking at the plate I was holding. It had vivid red flowers painted on it that seemed to burn with intensity. The delicate red pattern reminded me of Alicia's hair. I wanted to talk with Alicia.

  "Sith, that plate is the only one of its kind! Do you understand? You absolutely must not break it! Are you even listening to me?" Valentine's voice seemed to reach me from a great distance, as though I were underwater. What would Alicia say about my actions? She would surely explain everything to me. What was right, what I should do.

  The shop bell rang, and I smelled the scent of winter air. When I looked toward the entrance, the winter sunlight streamed in, momentarily blinding me.

  "Pardon me. Is Sith here?" Even amid the cluttered shop, I could instantly recognise that fiery red hair. It was Alicia.

  I wanted to rush over to her immediately, but noticing something different about her manner, I held back. Though appearing simple at first glance, her attire was crafted from the finest, smoothest fabric—a deep emerald green gown that caught the light with every movement and rustled pleasingly, like expensive paper being unfolded. Her hair was styled in an intricate arrangement I'd never seen before, with white pearl pins adorning the outside of the braids. It was completely different from the simple plaits I usually wore.

  "Sith! I've been looking for you," she said, her eyes shining. I asked Valentine for permission to have a brief conversation with her. (Valentine nodded, seeming oddly relieved.)

  "Alicia, what's happening?" I asked, noticing the ink stains on my fingers and hiding them in my apron.

  "Listen, Sith! Something wonderful has happened. The Blackwell family has invited me to their gathering tomorrow night!"

  "The Blackwell family?"

  "They arrived from the capital last month," Alicia explained as if it were common knowledge. "Mr Blackwell is one of the directors of a corporation. That is related to the East India Company. You know that grand house on the hill overlooking Ravensbrook harbour? The one with the glass conservatory? They purchased it last month. They're hosting a social gathering there for families from the neighbourhood."

  "Is that so...?"

  Companies, directors, houses on hills—these words floated in my mind like foreign objects, carrying little meaning in my world.

  "They've invited musicians from the capital to play music for listening and dancing. I wonder if it will be instrumental or madrigals? I'm so looking forward to it. And that's not all—there will be discussions about art and politics. Father says that connections made in such places could open doors for our future."

  "That's... wonderful!"

  "But what I'm truly interested in isn't that," Alicia continued, lowering her voice. "Mrs Blackwell is said to have the finest private library outside of a university. Books on every conceivable subject, collected from all over the world!"

  Every conceivable subject. I thought of that sarcastic, pedantic "him." "Every subject? I wonder... might there be books that talk by themselves?"

  Alicia looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "I'm sure there are! Books so engrossing that before you realise it, you're reading aloud!" She cleared her throat softly and continued. "That's why I came to find you straight away. Sith, come with me."

  As Alicia took my hand, I caught the faint scent of something like spring flowers. A perfume I'd never smelled before.

  "M-me? Why?" It was a sudden proposition. I tried to make sense of what she was saying, my mind racing. Me, standing alongside Alicia in society. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't picture such a thing. I'd never danced before, and had barely discussed politics or art.

  "Attend that party? But... how?"

  "The invitation mentions an accompanying guest. We could visit the library together, and even speak with Mrs Blackwell about her research."

  Alicia expounded on the legitimacy of the invitation and the wonders of social gatherings, but her words merely flowed past my ears. My gaze fell to our joined hands—a portrait of our differences. Her slender fingertips, unblemished and delicate, nails gleaming like polished shells. Beside them, my own—stained black with ink, crisscrossed with tiny scratches from daily labor.

  With each new aspect of her that I discovered, she seemed to grow more distant. I had wanted to see her, hadn't I? Alicia was more beautiful and elegant than ever, but this was a version of her I didn't know. A dark tension I'd never felt before began to fill my heart.

  "I have nothing to wear," I finally managed to say.

  "Of course I've thought of that. I have several gowns that would be perfect for you. We're almost the same size. I think the green silk with silver trim would suit you beautifully! The same deep green as your eyes."

  Of course I've thought of that? What do you truly understand about me?

  Perfect gowns? But they aren't mine.

  "Charity is a virtue." Yes, that's what Mrs Pemberley had said when we first met.

  "Alicia, I wouldn't know how to behave. I'd only embarrass you."

  "Don't be absurd! Listen, people are born..."

  "You and I are different!"

  My voice came out louder than I'd intended, surprising even myself. Different. That wasn't what I wanted to say. My heart was pounding fiercely. The pneuma flowing through my body was disturbed, causing pain somewhere in my body with each heartbeat. Yes, I had trained, hadn't I? If I sensed pneuma, I should be able to better understand others' feelings and my own. I needed to calm down. Breathe in slowly. Breathe out. My heart was still racing, but after three slow, deep breaths, I began to feel somewhat calmer. I regulated my breathing and looked at Alicia's face. When our eyes met, her expression cycled through several changes. First came surprise. Then a wavering appeared in her eyes. But that disappeared in an instant, leaving only her doll-like beauty.

  I realised I had hurt her. What had come over me? I'd never felt this way before. The more I'd come to know her, the happier I'd been. Now, with each word I heard, I felt more alone.

  We stared at each other in silence.

  "The Blackwell family has influence with the town council," Alicia was the first to speak. "Father told me. That witch hunter they say has come to Ravensbrook. Only they could drive such a person away." Her tone was earnest. Hearing about the town council, I felt yet another gap between us.

  "Alicia, I'll deal with the witch hunter myself."

  The words escaped my lips before my thoughts had formed them, hanging in the air between us like a challenge.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  The afternoon bells rang from the town hall. The shop suddenly grew busier. It was the busy hour.

  "I need to get back to work. I have to sort through deliveries from the harbour and put them on display. If I don't hurry, Valentine will be cross."

  Disappointment crossed Alicia's face. "I've disturbed you, Sith. But please, do think about it once more. This isn't just any party. Please."

  With those parting words, Alicia gracefully threaded her way through the crowd and left the shop. I just stood there, watching her go.

  I mustn't. I need to get back to work.

  Returning to my post, I resumed taking dishes wrapped in paper from wooden crates and carefully wiping them with cloth, just as before.

  "You were unusually excited," Valentine said, coming to stand beside me with the inventory ledger in his arms.

  "I'm sorry, Valentine. I'll calm down right away."

  "I don't know what it was about, but it seemed important? Were you able to talk properly?"

  My head was filled with irrelevant excuses.

  "I don't know. Maybe I didn't talk very well." When I said this, Valentine grinned and placed his hand on my head.

  "That's fine. It's enough that you realised that. Friends are precious things, aren't they? Listen, Sith. When I was about your age, I lost my father. All he left behind were debts. Then someone invited me to join a ship's crew..."

  Friends. Did Alicia think of me that way too? Perhaps there were many invisible walls between us that I wasn't aware of.

  "...On that island, we encountered a one-eyed monster. The beast captured us and demanded our names one by one. When my turn came, I looked it straight in its single eye and declared, 'My name is Nobody'..."

  As Valentine continued his story, I put away the polished dishes behind him. Me, me, me. I'm only thinking about myself.

  "That won't do," I scolded myself. I had learned from my grandmother's study box. "Pneuma" is the power of connection. A power to connect with people, nature, and invisible beings.

  "What? My story wasn't good? But I was just getting to the best part..." Valentine muttered to himself as I pondered what I should do next.

  ***

  That night, I finished my now-regular training with Baron a bit earlier than usual. Since the afternoon, my body had felt terribly sluggish, and I was desperately sleepy. The pneuma within me was flowing erratically, causing pain somewhere in my body with each heartbeat.

  I changed into my shift and fell into bed as if being pulled down. I felt myself slipping into a dream immediately. I had a premonition. Not my usual dream. I might be seeing "that dream" again, the one I hadn't had for a while. In the dream, I am a man named Bradley, who has come to a mountain village with his wife, Francesca.

  I should tell you now—after the events of this night, Bradley never appeared in my dreams again. This would be the last time I witnessed his story, and it would end in horror.

  ***

  "You seem to be following my instructions," the old woman said with a disgruntled expression, touching Francesca's belly with her gnarled fingers.

  "Yes, Lora. Ginger root, cinnamon bark, cloves steeped in warmed wine, every morning and night. And honey dissolved in—"

  "No need to repeat everything!"

  Lora cut off Francesca's answer. Lora then directed her to lie down on the bed and began massaging her back and legs.

  Lora's room had the shutters drawn and was dark. However, the hearth had been burning since daytime, making it very warm.

  "You're tilling the soil, for the seed to take root," Lora mumbled, stroking her dishevelled hair. I—Bradley—sitting in on the consultation, fidgeted uncomfortably at her metaphor, stroking his chin or rearranging his fingers.

  As usual, I was experiencing this scene through Bradley's eyes and ears. But this time was different. Lora's unfriendly breathing, the crackling of logs in the fireplace, Bradley's discomfort—I felt it all as if it were happening to me. More deeply than ever before, I was connected to Bradley.

  "You too! Why are you sitting there looking uninvolved!"

  Lora snapped at Bradley. She grabbed a vegetable that looked like a long-limbed doll and thrust it toward him.

  "Is this the famous mandrake?" Bradley asked with a strained smile.

  "Are you suggesting I've lost my mind? I'm afraid not—this is Korean ginseng! Stop with your pointless jokes and do your part!"

  Lora efficiently measured out various barks and nuts, skilfully grinding and brewing them with a knife and mortar. She persistently gave Bradley detailed instructions about extraction temperatures and consumption frequency.

  After the consultation ended, the two paid their fee and went outside. Before them stretched wheat fields, but the sky was overcast.

  "It's been a month already, but will this really help us have a child?"

  Bradley asked wearily as he avoided a goose trying to peck at his boots.

  "I can't be sure yet. But I do feel my body getting a bit better," Francesca answered, pressing acupressure points on her hand.

  "Are you really all right with that old woman? To be honest, if I hadn't known she was related to the Domigan family, I wouldn't have trusted her at all."

  "Really? I quite like old Lora. She's certainly different from doctor in Nancy, but she's not such a bad person."

  "If you say so, that's fine."

  "Bradley, I'm sorry for causing you trouble. Having to rely on your family connections for my sake."

  "No, that's not it, Francesca. That's not what I meant to say. It's just... well, I'm not sure if I can grow to like this village."

  "It's only been a month. I'm sure you'll get used to it." Francesca placed her hand on Bradley's shoulder and smiled at him.

  "Yes, Francesca. You're right. I'm sorry. I should be the one apologising. ...The old woman does have a point."

  "There you go, apologising again. That habit of yours, always apologising. I told you to stop, didn't I? We're in this together, Bradley!"

  "You're right, sorry. Oh, I did it again. But if we're talking about habits, you also..." Bradley made more excuses, and Francesca smiled mischievously. I could feel his mood gradually softening. As the day waned, shadows from the thin wheat stretched across the horizon.

  Bradley's vision blurred, and the scenery gradually changed.

  For a moment, I wasn't sure if I was in the village with Bradley or breathing peacefully in my bed at home in Ravensbrook. If I did nothing, this dream might end soon. But if I wished it, I might be able to sense what lay beyond this dream.

  I thought about this dream I'd been having for several months. This dream I'd started having after meeting Alicia. Could it have meaning? Was it a catalyst for drawing out my power, or a portent of things to come?

  I decided to trust my instincts.

  In this hazy world, I desperately searched for something that might connect this world and myself. It felt like being deep underwater, searching for the surface.

  Unable to tell up from down, I felt something formless touch my hand. I grasped it eagerly.

  At that moment, my vision became clear again.