Took longer than expected…
The sky's already darkening. My arms, laden with bags, tell the story of my day. I left early to avoid this, but every stop delayed me, piling on more stuff. A vicious cycle. If I'd known, I'd have brought Linie—though she'd probably just add to the load.
Finally back home. The garden's empty—no sign of Himmel or Linie. The house glows with light. Naturally. Himmel's too old to keep up with her antics this late. I step toward the door, ready to call out, when—
"Look, Lady Aura!"
The door flies open, and Linie bounds out. Perfect timing—probably sensed my magic. What a waste of talent.
"What's with the noise? Did you break Himmel's nose?"
Her excitement's over the top, even for her. Sure, she's always hyper, but this is excessive. Thrilled to be back? Or because Himmel watched her train? Maybe she did break his nose. With Linie, it's plausible. If so, we'll need Heiter. But—
"No way! Look at this! Himmel gave me his sword!"
Her words pale compared to the lie she's holding.
"What…?"
I can't help but blurt it out. If she's lying, she could do better. This is beneath even a child demon. Deception's not her style—or my command. What's gotten into her? I freeze, not from magic but from the sight before me.
Linie, beaming, swings Himmel's sword with glee.
"Did you… really give her that sword?"
Himmel's suddenly beside me, watching Linie with a fond smile. No mind magic here. I force myself to focus and ask, but—
"Not gave—passed it down."
"Same thing."
"It's not a lie! He told me a weird story when he handed it over. A secret one!"
Himmel nitpicks as usual, dodging the point. Linie, sensing my doubt, insists she's truthful, rubbing her head and spilling about some secret. At least she didn't blab the details—progress, maybe. Hard to believe, but Himmel really gave her his sword.
"What's gotten into you? You refused her every time she begged."
I'm stunned. That sword—the Hero's Sword—is special to Himmel. It's a fake, not the true one, but that never mattered to him. He slew the Demon King with it. To me, it's the cursed blade that took my arm.
Linie's wanted it forever. With her mimicry magic, it's no surprise. But Himmel wouldn't budge—not even letting her touch it. For him to be so attached to anything besides that elf, it's rare. Linie sensed it too, avoiding the sword. Yet now he hands it over? What's he thinking?
"I keep saying, I'm too old to swing a sword. So I entrusted it to Linie. I always planned to once she was ready."
He smiles, half-joking, but it's no jest. He can't wield it anymore. Just days ago, he was slaying monsters with it. Is Eisen the same?
Himmel's word choice—entrust—rings familiar. I've heard it before, from him. When? He planned this from the start—fifty years ago? Did he foresee this? No, that's not the point.
"So what now, Himmel?"
Without his sword, what's he going to do? He's a swordsman. No sword, no fighting. No fighting, no hero. He'll just get another, right? Probably already asked Eisen for one. But—
"This'll be my sword now. Suits me better these days. Looks good, right?"
Wrong. Completely unexpected. He holds a staff, not a sword. A totally different thing, yet he shows it off proudly. So unlike him, yet so him.
"…Yeah. It suits you now."
"Thanks."
I look away, barely masking my unease. He takes it happily. What's he thinking? No—what am I worried about?
"Does it suit me too, Lady Aura?"
"Sure. But stop swinging it indoors."
"Ha, that's not what you used to say, Aura."
"Shut up."
Linie's commotion drowns my thoughts. I scold her; Himmel teases back. He's insufferable, remembering every little thing I've forgotten. So irritating.
Ignoring them, I start dinner prep, shaking off something I can't name—
"You never get tired of the same food, huh?"
I blurt it out, watching Himmel eat as usual. It's his first homecoming in years—he'd normally demand this or that. I stocked up, expecting complaints, but he's eating—
"No way. Your Luf omelet's the best."
Just his usual Luf omelet. I thought he'd want Eisen's famous hamburger. But no, this is what he craved. Odd guy. It's always available, but it's less work, so fine.
"I like apple pie better."
"Hard to choose. But eating with you two makes anything taste great."
"So it doesn't matter."
"Hey, read the room."
I ignore his scolding, biting into apple pie. Early on, we ate like this all the time. Maybe it's the submission magic, but we're no better than Himmel, gorging on apples—though not as bad as Linie.
"Linie, put the sword down while eating. It's rude."
Linie's stuffing her face with pie, clutching the sword like a kid with a new toy. Worse, even.
"But I—"
One-handed, her manners are awful—worse than usual. She can barely talk. Lily would lecture her for sure.
"Want me to hold it?"
"No way! It's mine now. You're a liar, Himmel—you might take it back!"
"That's harsh."
"Your fault."
Linie swallows, guarding the sword. She's paranoid Himmel will reclaim it, given how he teases her. Self-inflicted.
"Then I'll hold it. That's an order. I won't take it."
"Ugh…"
I step in, using a demon's command. She reluctantly hands it over. Such a handful.
"She really listens to you, huh?"
"Shut up, Himmel."
"Just eat quietly."
Himmel teases Linie as she sulks. I'm caught in their chaos, eating as usual—
"Finally asleep."
"Good work. That was tough."
"Whose fault is that?"
Down from the bedroom, I sink into a chair, relieved. Linie's asleep—a rare task. She's not that young anymore, but the fake hero in front of me is to blame. His sword got her so excited she couldn't sleep, worse than when Eisen gave her a real one. She's out now, hugging it tight, probably dreaming the same.
"Seeing her so happy made it worth it."
Himmel's satisfied, his eyes genuine.
"Was it really okay? That sword was like your soul."
I can't help asking. Eisen once said a warrior's weapon is their soul, entrusted with their life. I thought it was dramatic—until meeting Zerie.
Passing down magic was her way, her life. I only understood its weight after receiving mine. For demons, magic is pride, our reason for being. For Himmel, it was his sword.
"Soul, huh? Coming from you, that's heavy. Yeah, it was like half of me."
He admits it. My soul-binding magic might add weight to my words.
"But I thought I'd feel more regret, loneliness. Turns out, I'm happy, Aura. Far more than lonely."
Loneliness—fear of loss, a human emotion I've never felt. He feared it too, but joy outweighed it.
"Happy? Why? Someone took your thing."
I don't get it. Why give it away? What's the point? It's just loss with nothing in return.
"Took, huh? Very you. But it's different. Remember the Blue Moonweed talk? It's like that. Not magic, but I entrusted it to Linie."
It clicks. The Blue Moonweed story. It's dying out, and I might be the last to conjure it. I said it's just a matter of time—extinction, like death, is inevitable. But Himmel said to pass it on. To someone, who'd pass it to another. Magic, swords—it's the same.
"Why you?"
"I'm her master. Passing my sword to my disciple is natural."
Master to disciple. That's his way. He planned this, spending nearly his whole human life on it. And he's happy—probably because Linie surpassed him.
"We'll be surpassed by humans. It's inevitable."
Zerie's words echo. She wanted the same—to be outdone. I can't fathom it. She's like them.
Yet, something feels off. A sick unease. Himmel's quirks aren't new, but this won't fade. Something's wrong. My gaze falls to the freesia accessory on my chest. Another gift from Himmel. But it's not like the sword. That was his. Passing it down is entrusting. I know this—he taught me. Back when we first visited Eisen—
"…ra. Aura…?"
Something about a dead person's belongings. A keepsake—
"Aura? You okay?"
"…! Don't startle me!"
"Sorry, you weren't responding. Something wrong?"
"Nothing."
I was lost in thought. His voice broke it, and I can't recall what I was chasing. Just cold sweat. What was I thinking? No—what was I afraid of? Like I'm—
"What's with that getup?"
I notice Himmel's outfit. That flashy blue robe, a staff for going out. What's this? Forgot something?
"You weren't listening, huh? Troublesome."
He sighs, exasperated. I missed everything he said. Realizing this, he repeats—
"How about a night walk, Aura?"
Not a homecoming, but an invitation to a new path—