My name is
What I am about to do is far from pleasant. However, I must confirm whether
I looked down at Myne, who had fallen into a deep sleep thanks to a potion and a Magical Tool. A hairpin clattered from her limp hand as it slipped free.
I picked it up and examined it. Myne was the only person who tied her hair with nothing more than a whittled wooden stick. I had assumed all Commoners did the same, but lately at
What a strange child.
Her thought patterns were as though she had already received an advanced education, and yet she was sorely lacking in forethought and careful consideration. Melvil Dewey — a name that did not exist anywhere I searched — the Dewey Decimal Classification System, which existed nowhere in this country — and her habit of inventing one thing after another that she wanted.
She had rebuilt the orphanage, given the children jobs, and provided food in return. She loved books so dearly that she had even gone so far as to create a Holy Book suited for children.
By any measure, Myne was no ordinary child. Even among strictly educated noble children, none could have accomplished what she had. These were things a newly baptized child should have been incapable of doing.
She had always been an unusual child, but since she was heading in no harmful direction whatsoever, mere eccentricity alone was not enough to explain why the Lord had lent me this Magical Tool.
But during the recent healing ceremony, Myne had displayed truly unbelievable amounts of Magic Power. Filling such a vast expanse of barren land with Magic Power in the blink of an eye — that was impossible for an ordinary Self-Eating.
Honestly, at this point her Magic Power already surpassed the Lord's. And there was no telling how far it might grow as she developed.
A Commoner girl whose Magic Power was terrifyingly abundant and who could earn enormous sums through inventions — anyone would try to claim her, and she would become nothing more than a spark for conflicts among the nobility. By declaring that I would place her under my protection, I could shield her to some degree within this city. But it was only a matter of time before her existence became known to nobles from other territories.
If it came to that, I was not certain I could protect her fully. And whether she was even worth protecting to that extent was something I could not yet say with certainty.
That was precisely why the Lord had told me to use this Magical Tool this time. I was to search her memories, see the "dream world" she had spoken of, ascertain Myne's value, and make a judgment as to whether she was harmful or harmless.
"I would be satisfied if only I could determine that she is harmless..."
If the subject were a criminal, the task would be simple — I would merely need to verify from their memories whether they had actually committed the crime. But in Myne's case, I had to determine from her memories how much value she possessed and whether she was a being who would cause us harm. The judgment, I suspected, would prove extremely difficult.
"...And above all, she will likely come to resent me."
Using a Magical Tool to peer into someone's memories meant that from this point forward she would be on guard and would never again come close to me willingly. In noble society — where one had to conceal emotions and pay the utmost care in word and deed so as not to give anyone grounds to take offense — there was no one like Myne, whose thoughts were written plainly across her face.
Even at the
It was only now, upon learning I was about to lose that, that I realized I had been surprisingly fond of Myne. I had grown unexpectedly attached to her.
I let out a quiet sigh and picked up the Magical Tool that had been sitting on the desk. I pressed the ring — set with the same red magic stone as Myne's — against my forehead.
Kneeling beside Myne, who lay on a long sofa, I brought the magic stones on our foreheads together with a soft click. I began slowly channeling Magic Power and synchronizing our consciousness.
Normally, there should have been resistance when foreign Magic Power entered someone — that was only natural. But when I flowed Magic Power into Myne, there was no resistance whatsoever. My Magic Power continued streaming into her without the slightest hindrance.
In itself, this was extremely convenient given the purpose of this exercise. But the question of why I wanted to scold her — to tell her to exercise at least a little self-preservation and not to accept others so completely without guard — nagged at me.
Clicking my tongue in frustration, I spoke to Myne.
"Myne, can you hear me?"
"Huh? I can hear the Chief Priest's voice. Where are you?"
Her carefree voice deflated me. Was there nothing? No fear? No reluctance? No apprehension of any kind?
"I am currently synchronizing our consciousness. The amount of Magic Power you possess far exceeded my expectations. I must determine whether you — the person who claims to have been educated in a dream world and to know the dream world — are a harmful figure in this land. I'm sorry, but I will now be looking through your memories."
"Okay, sure, I understand. That's fine with me."
The nonchalant reply nearly made me lose consciousness on the spot. I was the one who had to peer into her memories — I was the one bracing myself — so why did Myne show absolutely no resistance?
"Are you certain you're alright with me looking through your memories? It's unlikely to be a pleasant experience."
"Well, no, it isn't... But it's not something I could explain in a way you'd understand. If you can just see it for yourself, that's the quickest way, isn't it? It's far better than being punished based on false charges, misunderstandings, or baseless accusations."
Myne added that the Chief Priest was capable of this anyway, yet had gone to the trouble of using a Magical Tool to make his judgment. Through our synchronization, I could sense that she genuinely believed this.
Should I call it admirable, or should I scold her for being at least a little suspicious of others...? With Myne, the conclusion was already clear — but perhaps I should save the lecture for later. I wanted to finish this exhausting synchronization as quickly as possible.
"Then, will you take me to the dream world you spoke of before? If you visualize it strongly enough, we should be able to go there."
"Huh? Does that mean I can go wherever I want?"
Why was this happening!? Myne was getting excited at the prospect of having her memories looked through. Her bubbly enthusiasm was transmitting directly to me through our link.
This was bad. Very bad. Could I keep the reins on a Myne who was about to run wild? I needed to steel myself, or she would end up dragging me along.
"You need to show me what I want to see, or it will be a problem. First, I want to see the source of your knowledge."
"Leave it to me! Then let me take you to my beloved Library!"
With Myne's bright voice ringing in my ears, I found myself standing before an enormous building I had never seen. I wanted to know just how tall it was, but since Myne and I shared the same field of vision, I could only see what she saw, and her gaze was not directed upward.
The ground at our feet was beautifully paved with stone, and a gentle breeze caressed the skin. There was no filth and no stench — this was no commoner district. Was this the Noble District?
"Wow, how nostalgic!"
Myne's voice echoed as her gaze shifted and we moved inside the building. The way she called this scenery "nostalgic" and walked inside without a moment's hesitation — her steps light and bouncy — confirmed to me that this was indeed a world she knew.
Without being touched, without Magic Power passing through them, a pair of enormous glass doors — impossibly transparent and of remarkably uniform thickness — opened with a soft whoosh.
"Myne, is there magic here too? Didn't you say there was no entry for magic in the Myne Decimal System?"
"Well... it's not magic, but rather a self-operating door that functions according to a different set of principles. I think it's fine to think of it as something similar."
No magic, yet other principles were alive and at work — a world where something resembling magic existed. Where on earth was this?
"Myne, what country is this? It doesn't seem to be any country I know of?"
"It's called
"...What?"
I could not understand what Myne was saying, but the sincerity behind it — her complete lack of concealment, simply stating a fact — came through clearly. It was precisely because she was so straightforward that my inability to comprehend was a first for me.
"...Buried under books and died?"
I could not fathom the concept of being buried under books and dying. But before me, as if to contradict my inability to imagine it, an astonishing space filled with towering shelves and countless books appeared.
"...What is this place?"
"This is the municipal public library I used to go to."
It was a library packed with books as far as the eye could see. Even the Noble Academy's library did not have this many books. The amount was staggering — one could indeed imagine being buried in it.
"Is this... all books?"
"Yes, it's a library. Ah, but lately they also have things like 'videos,' 'CDs,' and 'DVDs,' so it's not just books. But basically, it's books. Ah, how wonderful. This is it — this is it! This is my paradise!"
I could feel that Myne's heart was truly brimming with nothing but a happiness so profound it could bring tears to her eyes. She had a favorite place, and she moved straight through the aisles between the bookshelves at a brisk walk.
This place called a library was lined with soft carpet from wall to wall, making footfall completely silent. The amount of money invested in this building was dizzying just to contemplate.
I see. If she had grown up with memories of a place like this, if she had yearned for books and a library from the very depths of her heart — then it made at least some sense that she had broken down sobbing upon discovering the Temple's Library. In this world, it seemed, books were objects of deep love.
As Myne advanced, the edge of her vision caught sight of people in colorful but shabby clothes touching books. In my world, it would be unthinkable for such paupers to lay hands on books.
"Myne, are those madmen? Is it really all right for people like that to touch books?"
"Madmen? Which ones?"
Myne's gaze drifted away from the aisle and scanned the surroundings.
"The ones on the left. A grown woman with her knees exposed. She is a pauper who apparently cannot even afford enough fabric, yet she dyes her clothes different colors. Wouldn't it be better to stop dyeing them? This is far too incomprehensible."
"In this place, there's no rule about how long women's skirts should be. They're just wearing whatever clothes they like, so please don't worry about it. Even so, this dream is incredible. I can even feel textures and smells."
Myne seemed to have lost interest in the woman, and her gaze returned to the bookshelves. The books lined up in rows had paper covers like the ones Myne had made, but their beauty and quantity surpassed anything I could have imagined.
Myne's gaze moved slowly from one end of the bookshelves to the other before she pulled out a single book, hugged it, and began inhaling its scent. Because of our synchronization, the smell of paper and ink was forcibly transmitted to my consciousness, and I was involuntarily flooded with satisfaction. I wanted to stop this synchronization.
"Hehehe."
In high spirits, Myne sat down in one of the plush chairs at the end of a bookshelf and began reading. These were not chairs merely consisting of cloth stretched over boards — they were extraordinarily soft and comfortable to sit in. What on earth were these?
Even so, everything within the field of vision was nothing but books, bookshelves, and floor. The open pages were visible, but they were filled with neat rows of characters I could not read. The arrangement seemed too precise for any human hand — could these be the printed books Myne had mentioned? Like the books Myne had made, they were in black and white.
"In your dream world, do books not have pictures?"
"Huh? Ah? What? Oh, right. Chief Priest."
When I spoke, Myne let out a surprised voice. It seemed she had been so absorbed in the book, so engrossed in the world, that she had completely forgotten about our synchronization.
What was I going to do with this fool? Here I was, peering into her memories, and she was enjoying this world to her heart's content without a care.
"Um, pictures?... If you want to see pictures, there are books that collect nothing but those. This is an 'art book,' and this is a 'photo album.'"
Myne pulled out larger books filled with colorful illustrations. The images within were astonishingly vivid, astonishingly detailed. As I stared, transfixed by their magnificence, Myne snapped the book shut.
"Chief Priest, may I go read some more?"
"No, absolutely not. Is this what you called a picture book for children?"
"This is a collection of paintings by famous people — it's not for children. The children's section is this way."
With that, Myne walked deeper into the library. In this library of Myne's, books were not chained down, and people freely took whichever books they pleased — even ones with plain covers like the ones Myne had made. Men, women, elderly, children, those in fine clothing, and paupers in threadbare garments alike.
"This is a picture book — a real Cinderella."
Comparing this to the story and illustrations Myne had shown me before only made things more incomprehensible. The costumes and hairstyles depicted were one thing, but there was no way people existed whose faces were dominated almost entirely by their eyes.
No, wait. Perhaps such people did exist in this world.
"...With pictures added, it's even more absurd than when I only heard your story. But the illustrations here are also quite colorful, aren't they? You should add color to your books too."
"I'd love to. ...But ink is expensive. I'll try my best to make them in whatever way I can. Ah, if only I could buy paints in this dream."
The instant Myne said that, the scenery shifted to a place lined with all manner of peculiar objects. Oddly shaped items covered in colors and text filled shelves as far as the eye could see.
"Oh, I've ended up at the 'art supply shop.' Chief Priest, even if you buy things in a dream, you can't take them back, right?"
"Obviously not, you fool. What is this place?"
"It's an art supply shop that my mother used to visit often. These are paints."
Whether it was books or paints, Myne's world seemed to overflow with an abundance of goods. I could only see what appeared in our shared vision, but even that was enough to fill me with awe at the richness of this culture.
"There are quite a remarkable number of varieties, aren't there?"
"Indeed. Compared to that town, everything is available here. I prefer the 'bookstore' to the 'art supply shop,' though."
The instant Myne said that, the location changed once again. Myne was restless not only in her actions but in her thoughts — or perhaps her thoughts were restless, which made her actions restless too.
"What is this place?"
It was similar to the library in that shelves were packed with books. But unlike the library, loud music blared from all around, and the surroundings were so bright they made one want to squinkle.
"It's a store that sells new books. Hehehe, 'checking new releases'... wha— oooooh! I can only see as far as my memories go!"
She cried out in a confused shriek, and Myne's mood plummeted for no apparent reason. Her emotional swings were so violent that even synchronized with her, I was exhausted. Was this why Myne collapsed so often — because of these wild emotional fluctuations?
"Myne, why is it so bright inside the building?"
"Oh, that's because the 'electric lights' are on."
As she said this, Myne looked up. Where the bookshelves ended, a small, brilliantly white sun hung in the ceiling.
"What principles govern how that works?"
"Well, you flip a 'switch' and it comes on. ...Ah, and just as I can't understand the explanations of magic I receive, I don't think you'd understand without the foundational knowledge, so I'll skip the details."
Even as she spoke, Myne's gaze remained fixed on the bookshelves. Unless she looked around more deliberately, I would see nothing but books. From the things that did appear at the edge of her vision, I could sense the otherness of this world — but Myne showed absolutely no inclination to look in those directions.
"Myne, I would like to see something other than books at this point."
"But I want to see books. I can't have a dream this vivid where I can fully enjoy all five senses on my own."
Dissatisfaction welled up inside Myne. Truly, without end, she thought of nothing but books. I had never imagined that peering into her memories would reveal nothing but books. Unless she consciously showed me other things, it seemed this would end with me having seen nothing but books in this world.
"Myne, do you remember the purpose of looking at this dream?"
"I'd rather forget... Sigh, what do you want to see, Chief Priest?"
Myne let out a most exasperated sigh. When asked what I wanted to see, I inquired about the matter that had been bothering me most on a personal level.
"I'd like to see where you were educated."
"The school."
The scenery changed in an instant.
Inside a modestly sized room, desks were neatly arranged from end to end, and people in identical clothing were writing something. On each small desk lay books filled with incomprehensible characters and symbols, along with thin, beautiful sheets of paper. There were also metallic cases decorated with illustrations I had never seen before, containing numerous colored sticks.
They occasionally looked up, then moved the colored sticks like pens, writing characters. At the front of the room stood a man, writing in large, chalky characters against a stone slate — tap, tap, tap — while giving an explanation. Was he the teacher of this academy?
"So, using this 'law of cosines'..."
"Myne, what is going on here?"
"I'm attending class. This might be from my high school days? It's a math class. Trigonometry... It's nostalgic, but math was never my favorite subject. I would have preferred Japanese literature, if anything."
The scenery in Myne's vision shifted again. In the same room, a slightly older woman was now walking around the room while reading a book.
"In Japan, everyone in the nation studies like this. Starting from around the age of baptism — and even after becoming adults."
As Myne spoke, the scenes before our eyes flickered and changed. Each one showed people studying in similar rooms, but the ages and the teachers standing at the front differed. From children the age of a baptism candidate to fully grown adults — in every scene, everyone was studying. I was struck with genuine astonishment.
"Do they do nothing but study?"
"Well, there are many subjects to study, and besides sitting at a desk like this, there are also practical lessons."
Scenes flashed before us — people in matching uniforms running outdoors, men and women entering water in revealing attire, someone playing an unfamiliar flute and performing a melody I had never heard.
"So you also received an education in music..."
"Yes. What we learn at school is just the easy part. That's why when I play the harp, the compositions aren't mine — they're songs from this world."
I see. That explained why she could play songs on a harp the first time she touched one. Myne's abilities were the product of her knowledge and education in this world. No wonder she was so different from an ordinary Commoner.
"This kind of education is mandated by the state, so in Japan it's taken for granted that every citizen can read and do arithmetic. I want to bring this kind of studying into the orphanage so that everyone can at least read and perform simple calculations."
"But what is the purpose of that?"
I could not see the point in deliberately teaching everyone to read. To my skepticism, Myne replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"If more people can't read, more people won't read books. And if more people don't read books, more people won't write them either, right? In order for me to enjoy books there, I first need to increase the number of people who can read."
In the past, I would have wondered what hidden scheme was at play, what she was planning. But synchronized with Myne as I was now, I could feel from the very bottom of her heart that she was thinking of nothing but books. In a sense, it was reassuring. In another sense, it gave me a headache.
But through Myne's memories, several questions I had harbored were finally answered.
"...I thought you learned letters abnormally quickly. You were well accustomed to studying, weren't you?"
"Accustomed? I suppose so. I have no awareness of it myself, but compared to the people in that town, I would say I'm used to studying. Besides, I wanted so desperately to read books — I couldn't bear it. I wanted to learn the letters that badly."
Myne smiled a bitter smile.
I tried to take in as much of the scenery as possible, scanning from end to end. The sight of people in identical uniforms attending class was orderly. The buildings were large, beautiful, and appeared spotlessly clean.
"Myne, this place is remarkably well-kept and beautiful."
"Yes, it was just recently rebuilt. But the wonderful thing about this school is that its library boasts the largest collection in all the surrounding schools. That's the reason I wanted to attend."
At the same moment, the scene shifted back to a library. This must have been the school library Myne had described with such enthusiasm. There was a faintly dusty smell to it, as though it contained many old books.
Myne inhaled it with undisguised delight, completely enraptured. Would it kill her to stop?
"Myne, enough with the library. Take me outside."
"Outside?"
When Myne tilted her head, the scenery became a tranquil garden. Stone paths, lawns, rows of trees, and carefully tended flower beds. It was a landscape that looked familiar to me.
"Myne, is this the Noble District?"
"Well... not exactly, but it's similar. Compared to that commoner-town environment, Japan is much closer to the Noble District. And it's full of tools that work almost like Magical Tools."
"Oh? What kind of things?"
In a world without magic, I found myself intrigued by objects that functioned like Magical Tools according to different principles.
"Well, for example, vehicles."
Myne looked upward and pointed at something white. I could see it flying through the air with a roar. When Myne looked to the side, a mass of metal was hurtling past at tremendous speed.
"What is that? If it were a magic stone, that would be one thing — but why would metal move like that...? To move something that large at such high speeds would require an enormous amount of Magic Power..."
"As I keep telling you, it's not a Magical Tool powered by magic. It works according to different principles. To me, it's far more puzzling that stones would change shape and move using magic."
When she put it that way, I supposed that to Myne — who had no knowledge of Magical Tools — even the idea of stones changing shape and moving would seem strange. When she had accompanied the Knights' Order, she had been startled by the most trivial things. Perhaps I was now in the same position she had been then.
"What other Magical Tools are there?"
"Hmm, I think most 'electrical appliances' would be found in a home?"
As Myne murmured, I found myself standing inside some building. Thin, lace-like fabric hung over the windows. To be able to use such delicate lace so casually as curtains, the household would have to be quite high-ranking nobility.
Light entered gently through the windows, filling the room with brightness, yet the room also had its own lights turned on. There was a large, leather-upholstered sofa, and on a low shelf in front of it sat a thick, black, rectangular slab.
"Hmm?"
My heartbeat suddenly quickened — thud, thud, thud — growing louder and faster. A cold sensation ran down my spine, and the blood drained from my face. Myne's heart was wrapped in tension, anxiety, and fear. And yet, welling up from the very depths of her heart was an expectant feeling — a jumbled mixture of joy and nostalgia.
All of Myne's emotions flooded into me. I felt dizzy.
"What's wrong, Myne?"
"...This is my home's 'living room.'"
Myne's voice was quiet and hoarse.
The High Priest peeks into Myne's memories — overwhelmed by nothing but books.
As expected, there were some who came to that conclusion.
Next time: Part 2 — The High Priest, tossed about by Reina's memories.