Let me tell you the story of a certain girl.
The girl was born in the borderlands of the Asura Kingdom as the only daughter of a poor hunter.
Her father had half long-elf blood running through his veins.
Her mother was a human woman with a slight trace of beast-tribe blood—beast-tribe that had once served as slaves to Asura's nobility.
Both were kind, raising their daughter showered in love.
At first glance, a happy child.
But her hair was green.
That hair ruined her life.
Green hair.
According to one account, the more closely a demon's hair approaches green, the more ferocious they become.
The color of the hair of the Superd tribe—that race which once shook every species to its core with terror—was also green.
And there was a theory that Demon God Laplace, who had led that very Superd tribe, likewise had green hair.
The girl was no demon.
But green hair struck fear into the hearts of those who saw it.
It was a cursed color.
And yet, the girl was still just a girl.
The past was the past.
Prosperous Asura lay far from the Demon Continent, and those holding radical anti-demon sentiments were few.
The girl's green hair had nothing whatsoever to do with demon blood in either parent—it was nothing more than a spontaneous mutation.
At first she drew startled looks and curious stares, but gradually she was accepted.
However, that acceptance extended only to the adults.
Once the girl began venturing outside on her own, she was attacked.
Because she had green hair, she was branded an evil demon and pelted with mud balls, shunned and rejected.
The girl lived her days in constant trembling, sometimes in tears.
She couldn't understand why children her own age treated her so cruelly.
Her sympathetic mother cut her hair short and sewed her a pair of pants that wouldn't restrict her movement, so she could run more easily.
Her father spoke with the other parents, begging them to make sure their children left his girl alone.
But none of it addressed the root of the problem.
Every time the girl went outside, she was targeted.
For the other children, it was a game.
Pick on the one kid whose hair color was different.
Team up and defeat the devil. That was the kind of game it was.
But for the girl, it was no game.
Children bearing malicious intent would close in, hurling mud balls and sometimes stones.
If she ran, they gave chase. When they caught up—
If she fought back, she was punched and kicked, made to suffer.
The adults would reprimand them.
For a time the attacks stopped, but before long they simply resumed where no adult could see.
The girl despaired of the world.
She believed she had no allies other than her parents.
She couldn't change her hair color.
There was nothing she could do.
She could only keep her head down and live as inconspicuously as possible.
And then a certain boy saved her.
He was about the same age as the girl.
When he saw her being pelted with mud balls,
He charged in at full sprint, boldly challenged opponents roughly twice his size, and drove them off.
Not only that—he spoke to the girl in a gentle voice.
He conjured warm water from his hands and cleaned her up.
He fussed over her, taking care of everything.
For the girl, it was an event nothing short of a miracle.
The girl's daily life transformed overnight.
The boy began shielding the girl from malice.
After that, the bullying stopped.
The boy gave the girl power.
He taught her the miracle known as magic.
The boy was the same age as the girl, yet he seemed to know everything.
He taught her everything.
Writing, magic, natural phenomena, mathematics…
To the girl, the boy was like a god.
The girl was always at the boy's side.
She quickly fell deeply in love with him.
Though still young, she had learned the words "marriage" and "bride,"
And the girl secretly resolved that one day she would marry him and become his bride.
After that, various things happened, and things became a little awkward between them.
But she still loved him dearly.
She had always thought he would protect her forever.
And then they were separated.
They were forced apart.
The boy was beaten half to death by his father and sold off to a distant noble.
I have to get him back. I have to help him, the girl thought.
But her father stopped her.
What her father had said at that moment, the girl couldn't quite recall.
Something about the boy having set off on a journey to become stronger.
That she needed to work hard so she wouldn't fall behind him.
It was something along those lines, surely.
What remained etched in her ears was only the very last line.
"Sylphie, are you going to let him protect you forever?"
She remembered that one line clearly.
She remembered thinking, That's not what I want.
She remembered realizing that simply being protected wasn't enough.
That when things like today happened, she couldn't just stand by and watch.
"I understand. I'll become strong enough to save Rudeus…!"
From that day on, the girl changed.
The girl began training herself proactively.
She did the same things the boy had done every day.
She ran to build her stamina and swung a wooden stick to toughen her body.
She used magic day after day, honing her senses to a razor's edge.
Even without the boy, the girl knew what she needed to do.
At the same time, she thought about where the boy had gone.
With her knowledge and the limits of where she could travel, there was no way to learn the boy's whereabouts.
She couldn't even begin to guess.
What would the boy have done in a situation like this?
What would he have said?
"If you don't know, just ask," the boy had told her.
The girl followed his advice and decided to ask.
Someone who knew where the boy was.
The girl went to the village clinic.
It was where the boy's mother worked.
There, she tried to ask the boy's mother where he had gone.
Naturally, the boy's mother smiled mischievously and deflected her.
The girl began helping out at the clinic.
It wasn't a deeply calculated move.
She simply harbored a vague hope that if she grew close, maybe they would tell her.
Her father had also impressed upon her that "despite what happened, you need to stay on good terms with the boy's family," and that was certainly part of it as well.
The boy's mother never let slip a single word about where he was.
The girl tried every trick she could think of to coax it out of her,
But each time the woman would just smile warmly and say, "If you want to see Rudeus, you'll have to work even harder," and brush her off.
This is getting nowhere, the girl thought.
Of course, the girl didn't know the expression "getting nowhere."
In any case, she concluded that continuing like this was pointless.
So she decided to approach the maid at the boy's house.
The boy also had a father, but she found that approach unappealing.
She had witnessed the boy being beaten.
The father wasn't a stranger, nor did she hate him, but the thought that she might get hit too made her hesitate to speak to him.
The maid was loyal.
Loyal to the boy.
"Master Rudeus will surely one day be placed in a position where he is invited to the royal court. If you are to become Master Rudeus's wife, you must learn to conduct yourself in a manner befitting someone who would not look out of place in the public eye."
So the maid told her, and more or less forced upon her a thorough education in etiquette and manners.
That said, when told this would benefit the boy, the girl couldn't very well refuse.
How to walk in the palace, how to put on a dress, how to speak, how to greet people…
She had her doubts about whether any of this was truly necessary.
But the girl was an earnest student with a sharp mind.
However, on the matter of where the boy actually was, the maid absolutely refused to speak.
In this way, she turned ten years old.
The only one who celebrated her tenth birthday was her mother.
Her father had been called to stand guard, as word had come that the monsters in the forest had recently become more active.
As a hunter, he was well acquainted with the forest and was dispatched at every opportunity.
"He didn't have to leave on her very tenth birthday…"
The mother had said this to the father.
But the girl accepted it and let it go.
After all, the same thing had happened on her fifth birthday.
The birthday present from her mother was a white dress.
Her father had saved up money to buy the fabric for this very day, and her mother had sewn it for her.
When she tried it on right away, her mother praised her: "It looks lovely. You're beautiful."
The girl giggled, bashfully smiling, and thought she wished she could show it to the boy, too.
At the same time, she grew anxious—how was the boy doing?
Was he getting by in some unfamiliar place?
Had anyone celebrated his tenth birthday?
She thought about sending him something as well.
But she couldn't think of a single thing he might want.
When she asked her mother, the woman told her, "Anything you give him will be special."
When her father returned the next day, she asked him, and he suggested, "Then why don't you send him our family's lucky charm?"
A pendant carved from wood, something you wore on your person that was said to bring good fortune.
It was something the father always wore as well.
Apparently, it had been given to him by a long-elf woman—the girl's grandmother—when he first set out on his own.
Hearing that, the girl felt that it was the perfect gift.
Every day, the girl carved the wood with all her might.
It was her first time carving, and the girl was by no means skilled at it.
But she tried her hardest, carving every single day.
And at last it was complete.
It was ungainly, but it had taken shape.
That was when the problem arose.
She had made it, yes—but she had no way to deliver it.
While she was fretting, the boy's maid made a suggestion.
"If that's the case, why not let me include it among the items I send?"
That was what they decided.
The girl told the maid over and over, "This is something precious to me, so please make absolutely sure it reaches him."
The maid assured her she understood and would see that it was delivered.
Some time after that,
The Teleportation Incident occurred.
---
The girl was teleported into midair.
"Wha—!?"
She was at an incredible height.
For a split second, she thought she must be dreaming.
The sensation of falling, endlessly.
The suffocating pressure of the wind.
Clouds rushing past her.
And then terror.
Every fiber of her being was screaming that this was no dream.
"Hngh—"
The girl heard a scream lodged deep in her throat.
The scream reinforced the terrifying reality of the situation.
She didn't understand why.
But she was in the sky. She was falling.
She had to do something.
She had to do something.
She would die.
She would die.
She would certainly die.
No matter how young the girl was, she understood that falling from this height meant death.
She unleashed her full magical power.
She could feel the ground rushing closer and closer.
The girl created wind.
A blasting current aimed upward at herself, directly from below.
Her speed may have decreased slightly.
But it quickly returned to what it had been before.
Wind wasn't enough.
What was she supposed to do in a situation like this?
What had the boy said?
Think. Remember.
Hadn't the boy said something?
When you're falling from a great height…
To cushion the impact…
Something soft.
That's it. She had to wrap herself in something soft.
But how soft?
How was she supposed to make it?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!
Half-mad with panic, the girl did everything within her power.
She created water. She created wind. She created earth. She created fire.
Anything to slow her descent, to keep herself from the ground—
She did everything she possibly could.
And yet, she hit the ground.
She crashed.
But miraculously, the girl was alive.
She didn't know how.
She wasn't unscathed.
Her entire body was drenched, covered in bruises, caked in sand, and both legs were broken.
It was a wretched state—but the girl was alive.
She didn't know what had saved her.
But her speed of descent had been reduced enough that she survived a fall from that height with nothing but broken bones.
However, her ordeal was not yet over.
"GRAAAAGH!"
Right before her eyes, barely a step away, stood a monster.
A bipedal boar with four arms.
The girl knew this monster.
Her father had warned her: if you ever see one, never approach. Stay silent and wait for it to pass.
If it notices you, cast magic and flee at full speed.
That was what she had been told about this creature.
Its name was the Terminal Boar.
What the girl did not know was that the Terminal Boar was an exceedingly rare monster.
It commanded E-rank Assault Dogs.
It would occasionally emerge from the forest and attack people.
Within the Asura Kingdom, it was among the most dangerous monsters known.
One of the few C-rank monsters in the kingdom.
Its threat level ranged from C to B, depending on the number of Assault Dogs it led.
A single Terminal Boar alone was still D-rank.
That was what the Terminal Boar was.
"AAAAAAAH!"
Half-crazed, the girl screamed and unleashed magic at the Terminal Boar with reckless abandon.
Intermediate Magic: Frost Impact.
She held nothing back.
From the very first move, she poured in the most powerful spell she could muster.
A single blow.
The Terminal Boar was flash-frozen and shattered into pieces.
"Hah… hah… guh—!"
Gasping for breath, she tried to stand—only to discover that both her legs were broken.
The girl cast healing magic and immediately treated herself.
Having helped out at the clinic, healing magic was one of her specialties.
But she was no stranger to pain.
Tears streaming down her face, she cast her spells.
"…Hah… hah…"
She rose to her feet.
A hammering headache pulsed through her skull.
Her vision blurred, consciousness fading.
If the girl's mental state had been normal, she would have recognized these symptoms for what they were: magical depletion.
Suppressing her fall, then blasting a monster with offensive magic.
She had been firing off her spells at maximum power without a moment's restraint.
As a result, her magical reserves were completely spent.
"Y-you survived…?
W-where did you come from?
What is your name?"
A voice came from behind her.
A throbbing head. Vision swimming in a haze.
Fighting through both, the girl turned around.
There stood another girl.
A girl with golden hair and a face so beautiful it seemed almost translucent.
A girl wearing a pure-white dress adorned with intricate embroidery that must have cost a thousand times more than what the girl had received for her birthday.
Beside her, a boy nursing an injured arm leaned against a wall,
And next to the boy, a man in robes lay bloodied and lifeless.
"Sylphiette…"
The girl whispered the name, and collapsed.
---
This was how Sylphie and Ariel Anemoi Asura, the Second Princess of the Asura Kingdom, first met.