84 – shadow(7)

Tricia tossed and turned under the covers a few times and chatted with me before eventually falling asleep.

I wrote a letter to Silverin.

Only the sound of Tricia’s breathing and the friction of the nib fills my room.

The sound of her whispering breathing gives me a strange sense of peace.

After I finished writing the letter, I looked back on the bed for a while.

I was embarrassed when he insisted on going to the mansion with me, but looking at it now, I think I did a good job bringing him.

Perhaps thanks to the stability of her mind, her concerns about not being able to send the letter to Sylverine might have subsided.

If you change your position, you can easily guess.

If Sylverin doesn’t reply to my letter for a while, I should be worried, but on the other hand, I’ll just pass it on with a ‘maybe’ mindset. Silverin probably thinks similarly.

You can tell just by looking at the correspondence box assigned to the fireplace. Silverine is not the kind of person who will explode in anger or lie sick if a letter doesn’t arrive. that kind of thing… doesn’t fit her

I went to the bed and sat down on the edge. And I blankly admired the sleeping Trisha.

The pure white hair is still not used to it.

Then, unknowingly, I tried to stroke that hair, but I hesitated.

I smiled bitterly when I realized that I still had the hand habit from the past.

When I was stroking my silver hair, my fingernails and palms were covered with black oil stains that could not be removed no matter how much I washed them. My hands are very clean now.

So many things have changed. My appearance and my memories.

I often forget that Liza is in Eternia. This… that would be a good thing for me

Lisa must also be making new memories of her own. I too am on my way, albeit belatedly. I once wanted Liza to think of me and miss me, but now I don’t want to.

I don’t want to go back to the past anymore. It’s because the new things I met after breaking up with Liza are now precious to me.

I was thinking of going to the art department and leaving behind memories of Sylveryn, Trisha, and new people through paintings one by one.

If the memories are painted over with a brush, and the paintings are piled up one by one, the venom, anger, and pain of the past that still remain faint will no longer be visible.

Then one day Liza’s role in my life will be over for good.

***

It drizzled for a while in the morning. By the time we left, the rain had stopped, but the morning fog had not cleared yet.

Trisha and I boarded the wagon heading to Eternia.

She was combing her hair, watching the dawn in the slowly clearing fog.

What is unusual is that all of the disguise artifacts were removed from the wagon.

Trisha hums a song and brushes her pure white hair like that while peeking at my face.

Then, when our eyes met, I looked out the window again.

“Why are you doing that?”

“what?”

“Why did you return to your original form in the carriage?”

If you wear an artifact, it will change again, so is there any reason to brush it?

“… It’s my heart.”

“… .”

Then, Tricia throws a word in a cold voice.

“Why do you like this look too?”

I rolled my eyes for a moment and searched for memories.

“I?”

When I ask back, as if I had said that, she stops brushing and remains silent.

“… huh.”

what did i say Trisha suddenly shows a slightly pouty attitude.

After a long silence, when the carriage reached the front gate of Eternia, Trisha put the artifact back on.

“I want to get off here.”

“Go downstairs. You will have to walk for a while.”

“no. I will get off.”

“… .”

When Trisha insisted, I eventually stopped the wagon.

When she got off the carriage, she looked at me with a pouty face and said,

“Come pick me up at 6:00 PM.”

“… You want to go to the mansion again?”

“of course.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you at the front door then.”

Trisha suddenly shouts in a voice full of annoyance.

“no. Come pick me up from the theater department!!”

Then the carriage door closes with a bang. She huffed and puffed away from the wagon, as if in a fit of rage.

“… .”

I suddenly had a throbbing headache and put my hand on my forehead.

Why are you doing this all of a sudden? What else are you sad about? Everything was fine until I left the mansion in the morning. I don’t know why the emotional ups and downs are so severe.

The nature is like a tropical climate. The sun is shining, but in the blink of an eye, a shower pours down.

I put off Tricia’s work for the evening and started the carriage again.

The immediate thing to do was to meet with the advisor of the art department.

***

After holding on to the seniors and asking them, I found out who the advisor in the art department was.

The person I was going to visit was a professor of herbal medicine at the alchemy department called ‘Georgia Pelene’. She was an advisor to the art department.

She warmly welcomed me when I came from the wind in the morning while trimming flowers in the greenhouse of the Ministry of Pensions, where the walls and ceiling were all made of glass.

On the outside, she had the impression of being in her mid-late thirties.

“Welcome, welcome. Sit down.”

Professor Georgia sat me down in front of a small table in the conservatory and brought herbal tea and handed it to me.

She sat cross-legged across from me.

“drink.”

“… thank you.”

She stared at my face for a while, like a circus animal.

“Me, professor?”

“ah! Um, so, you want to join the art club?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

She twitched her eyebrows and nodded.

“great. by the way… . Write.”

Giorgia hesitated for a moment, as if something was wrong.

“Where have you seen us?”

“No, I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you, but… .”

“Um, is that so? Obviously last year… . Oh, were you a freshman? Oh, look at my mind.”

“… .”

“Sorry sorry, I’ve been busy with work lately, so I’m out of my mind. Well, so, um… Are you interested in painting?”

“Yes.”

“great. There’s just something you need to know. We are not a place where we train to draw portraits of narcissistic aristocrats instead. It’s not a place where you hone your skills to imitate things as they are.”

“All right.”

Georgina spoke incessantly.

“And um… From the outside, it seems that theater or dancing would suit you better, but you would fit well here too. Because it is a place to explore beauty. There are quite a lot of pretty seniors, so you can look forward to it.”

“… Are you a pretty senior?”

“Why are you interested? Noble ladies and beautiful young ladies prefer art or social balls. Are you polite and classy? It’s no different here. A lot of women, very. Be aware of that.”

“… How many men are there?”

“Well, maybe 20%. There are many male applicants, but most of them are impure guys who aim for women… Such guys are blocked in advance through interviews. It blurs the atmosphere and kids don’t like it either. You know what?”

“Don’t you think I came for an impure purpose?”

“If you deal with dozens or hundreds of people, you can see everything even if you share a few words. Now you’ve mastered mind-reading. There are kids who come here to look good to me for my herbalism class, and there are perverts who come here just to explore physical beauty. All those kids are sent back. Well… You don’t seem to have any ill intentions. clean.”

I think I advertised a lot of pretty girls a while ago, but did I think it was safe?

The professor sipped his tea and added:

“And if I just send you back, the kids will definitely be scolding me.”

“… Why?”

She waved her hand as if she had accidentally said something.

“not. Pretend you didn’t hear the last word.”

“… .”

“No, more than that, I wonder why I didn’t go to the theater or dance club. Something must have happened there.”

There was an offer, but that was it.

“Nope. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but nothing happened.”

“Are you looking for other club activities? It’s not that I don’t want to accept you, it’s just that I think it’s an impulsive choice. If you have other suggestions, don’t cut them too quickly and show your sincerity in moderation. After that, you look hateful to your seniors.”

“I have no intention of changing my decision.”

She tilted her head as if something was troubling her.

“Anyway, yes. Well, that’s great. Did you say combat department?”

“Yes.”

She nodded her head with a satisfied expression.

“Good. very good To be honest, all the boys in our art department are full of food. Is there something I say to the male members every day? All of you ‘girls with beads’. It doesn’t have a refreshing taste. There should be a man who handles thick lines like a sword dance.”

“I don’t have that level of skill… I think your expectations were too high.”

The professor shook his head and said with a slightly obsessed look.

“It’s okay if you can’t draw. It also has its own charm. In art, there is no magic or magic tools, only paint and brush, but we can see the human soul in it. That is the greatness of art.”

“… .”

It is a difficult philosophy. Will I be able to adapt well here?

***

Even though it was a place where the institutions that enacted doctrines and laws and explored divinity were concentrated, it was not a place that was completely rejected from secular reason.

Money flows in the saints, and fame and power are concentrated. This is because, for humans, faith is ultimately used as a tool to turn around and fulfill one’s desires.

Merchants, magicians, knights, and followers who flocked to the Holy City to realize their worldly desires, the most attention was paid to Silverine.

Because she was a person without flaws from the worldly point of view.

Along with their transcendent magical abilities and great achievements, it was their beauty that stimulated their curiosity the most. In order to confirm the authenticity of the rumors that are ‘bewitching just by looking at it’, the area where she is staying is always visited by people.

However, despite numerous pleas, no one met her in person. It was because Silverin had cut off all visitors and was hiding in her room.

All curtains were drawn in her room to block the outside view, and only a single candle lit the light in that large room.

The letters piled up in front of the door were all left unattended after only checking the sender.

Silverine is immune to colds and fevers, but her condition is like that of a typical fever patient.

I had no appetite, so I hadn’t eaten anything since the day before. The green grapes, veal rib eye steak, and 27-year-old Lutton wine that the duke of Gainax enjoys drinking on the table were all left untouched by the servant in the morning.

I didn’t even have the will. She lay on the bed and didn’t even fall asleep, quietly killing time.

All I do is fidget with the bottle of cubes all day long.

In her head, thoughts about her disciple continued endlessly.

My heart is beating like this, but why doesn’t the letter from the disciple come? Around the evening of the previous night, his heart was beating like it was going to burst. Am I hanging out with a girl my age? Or was it training? Do you have time to practice but no time to write a letter to me?

I don’t even get angry anymore Sadness piled up and spread to bitterness. When I thought of the disciple, my heart ached as if I had been crushed by the wheels of a wagon. The stuffy mind didn’t get better even if I took a deep breath.

“This bad disciple is contributing to making me sick… .”

I just wanted the news to reach me because it was good to say anything.

Damian did nothing wrong.

If there is any fault, he reproached himself for his poor education.

She bit her lip and slammed the pillow violently with her hand holding the bottle.

“I need to educate… . more… more… .”

Silverin was feeling it. The relationship with the disciple is overly inclined to one side.

So I had to re-educate.

So that the disciple longs for and longs for the body odor and body temperature of the master, until he cannot hold anything in his hands.

So that… … Because the horizontal axes of the relationship coincide.

***

Professor Georgia finished the formalities for Damian’s entrance and sent him back. I felt uncomfortable the whole time because I felt like there was something left unresolved after I left him.

what did i miss It’s definitely a first meeting, but why is the face of a boy named Damian familiar?

After trimming the plants in the greenhouse, Georgia jumped up and headed somewhere.

If something straddled memory, it was one that was most likely.

She went to the art department storage room, opened the lock, and went inside.

Inside, paintings left behind by students who passed through the art department were densely displayed.

With her hands behind her back, she skimmed through the pictures on display. Some had been left for a long time and the paint had cracked and dusted them, and some had been left near a window and had been exposed to the sun and discolored.

She quickly looked through hundreds of paintings, including portraits, landscapes, still lifes, and abstracts, but suddenly stopped for a moment when she saw something in the corner.

Seeing the black tent over the easel, he approached it.

The tent is stiff and soft, as if it had just been washed. It was well maintained with no common stains or even a speck of dust.

She took off the tent to see the picture hidden inside.

“…”

An image that seems to have flashed by a long time ago.

Georgia’s intuition was exactly right. She didn’t see Damian, she saw the painting.

Two paintings were placed there. One was a portrait of a boy named Damian whom I had met that morning.

Next to it was a landscape painting painted in warm colors like an illustration in a children’s book.

In the background, a brown-haired boy and a gray-haired girl are facing each other, both drowned in a fountain.

The gray-haired girl was smiling broadly as she touched the boy’s cheek.

It was a beautiful and nostalgic painting that would be fascinated even by those who are not familiar with art.

However, Giorgia could not remember who drew it.

It’s clear that he had a relationship with a boy named Damian, but the gray-haired girl, as you can guess, hadn’t been to the art department in recent years.

There is no signature left in the painting to guess the artist. While looking to see if there was anything left, I narrowed my eyes when I noticed a tag attached to a painting of a fountain.

Giorgia checked the meaningful title and fell into a strange thought for a moment.

What was written on the tag.

It was [the reason for living].